“But?” I leaned in closer, my head tilting up to stare into his serious eyes.
“But fuck it.” He followed up his declaration with a kiss. It was the permission we both needed. We rushed into action. Me unbuttoning his dress shirt. Chris reaching for the zipper of my skirt and tugging the shirt out of my skirt.
He murmured something hot and sexy in my ear, something foreign that caused a flood to rush between my legs. “Say that again,” I commanded.
“Tu es mon fantasme devenu réalité,” he whispered, tugging off my shirt.
“What?” I asked, breathing heavily and seriously turned on. “What does that mean?”
“You’re my fantasy come true.”
I unclasped my bra, grabbed his hand, and led him to his bedroom.
I was feeling bold, being someone’s fantasy and all. I needed this—to feel desired and special and attractive. And from the hot and heavy look on Chris’s face, he’d meant every word. I walked to his bed, turned to face him, and then slowly sat down. I crawled backward, still facing him. “Touch yourself. Show me how much you want me.”
He smiled, but that hot look was still in his eyes. Reaching down, he unabashedly stroked himself.
Panting, I opened my legs wide, slid my finger down to the vee between my thighs, and touched myself.
He continued to pump himself. I threw my head back, unable to handle the intensity of the moment.
“Eyes, mon chéri,” his deep voice commanded, pulling me back to his sexy gaze. “Don’t come.”
I nodded my acquiescence, well past the ability to form words.
He stalked to the nightstand. A crinkle of foil sounded and then he slid the condom along his length.
Dipping a knee onto the bed, he gripped my hips and drew me closer. “I want to taste you, touch you. But I cannot. Too close,” he grunted, a pained expression on his face.
When he slid deep inside me, I gasped. He was big, so big he filled me up.
And he filled something else up that I had no intention of thinking about at the moment.
“Je suis chez moi,” he said, thrusting deeper and staring into my eyes.
“Translation?”
“Tell you later.” He stroked me again. I shuddered at the pleasure and gripped my legs around his waist.
“Chris!” I yelled as he continued to pound me with such precision, such beauty, a tear rolled down my cheek.
But Chris was wrong.
This wasn’t quick. It was long, artful, and painstakingly thorough. He touched my body, my soul. This was something I’d never experienced.
When I squeezed my eyes shut, he commanded me in that deep and patient voice of his. “Look at me. Don’t cut me off,” he said right before he took us over the edge.
Still inside me, Chris caressed my cheek with his calloused thumb and kissed me deeply.
He rolled off and walked to the connecting bathroom. Like magnets, my eyes were drawn to his muscular ass. I sighed wistfully when he shut the bathroom door. I rolled over to the other side of bed, aka the wet spot.
Nibbling my lips, I thought through my plan.
Should I leave? No, maybe I should wait, thank him for a good time? Dang it! What did single, unattached people do after just having sex? I was half a decade out of the game.
Just wait for him. We’re still working together, I think. Oh shoot! What if he doesn’t want to work together? Or what if—
My mini freak-out was cut short. Chris returned with a serious look on his face. His brows creased. Apparently, I pissed him off. Maybe I should’ve left.
“Why are you way over there?” He lifted the covers, got in bed, and then jerked me to his chest.
“Oh, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if you wanted me to leave or—”
“We’ll have some major problems if you attempt to sashay your sexy ass out of my house.”
“Oh, well, that’s good then.”
“And a new rule. When we’re in bed, you’re by my side.”
I smiled at Chris’s bossiness. That’s a rule I could get behind. I sighed, relieved. “I like that rule. Keith never, well, he didn’t like to hold me afterward. He said I was too hot.”
“Another new rule.” His voice dropped to frigid temperatures. “Don’t mention Keith’s bitch ass while in bed with me. Out there in public and for business, sure. But that’s it. He isn’t like me, and I’m damn sure not like him.”
I squeezed his bicep and snuggled against his chest. “I’m sorry, that was dumb of me. I won’t mention him, in um, bed again.”
“Good.”
“So, there will be an again?” I tried but failed to contain the hopeful tone in my voice.
“Damn right,” he rumbled. “Give me ten, twenty minutes, we’ll do another round.”
“Twenty minutes?” I lifted my head. “That doesn’t happen in real life.” I snorted. Only in books. The romance books I used to love reading until Keith shattered my heart.
“I already confessed you were my fantasy come true. You think I’m waiting hours to get my fill again?”
“We shall see,” I teased and patted his chest. “We shall see.”
It’s important to note that I did see. All. Night. Long.
SEPTEMBER
CHAPTER 13
O Sister, Where Art Thou?—Raina
“You sure you don’t want to stay with me?” My mother’s big brown eyes peered at me from across the breakfast table.
I shook my head, scooping up my corn flakes and feeling like a big fat loser. Single, in my thirties, living with my mama.
“I’m sure, Ma. Kara already has a room ready for me. It’d be rude not to move in.” And I’ll lose my damn mind if I have to tell you for the umpteenth time that I’m fine.
“All right then. I just want to make sure this is what you really want. I just want you to be happy. You seemed really happy with Cam—”
“Ma,” I groaned and dropped the spoon in my nearly empty bowl. “I don’t want to talk about it. Why do you keep bringing him up?”
“Why don’t you want to talk about him?” She dug in.
Ma had never had a real backbone, so it surprised the hell out of me that she decided to have some steel in her spine now.
“Because we’re over. Because he wanted things from me that I couldn’t give him. People break up all the time, every day, in fact. And when people end relationships, it’s viewed rude as he—I mean, as heck to bring it up.”
“Sorry. I live alone, so I must’ve lost my manners over the years,” Ma said in the most unapologetic voice I’d ever heard in my life.
I stood and emptied the milk from my bowl into the sink. “I’m going to my room to write. Please don’t—”
“Interrupt you,” she interrupted me. “I know.”
I left the kitchen and returned to my box-size room. Ma had downsized, but I was damn lucky to have a room, even kid-sized, to crash in. I needed to save all my coins for my career change. Being a writer ain’t easy.
I sat in front of my desk, shook my head from side to side, and did a few exercises I knew some actors did before a scene. Doing this relaxed my mind and my fingers, and I was able to zone out and hit my daily word count.