His mouth crashes down on mine, and I declare temporary insanity.
His scent. His taste. His touch.
I desperately want to push him away, but I can’t. The one thing I never thought I’d have again . . . I allow my body to take over, and I fucking maul him. My nails dig into his shoulder and the back of his neck as I cling to his rigid muscles, my tongue demanding entrance into his mouth.
God, I need more. More. More.
I don’t even know how it happened, but his hands grip my waist, bringing me down on his lap as my knees dig into the leather on either side of his hips. I grind hard against one heavy thigh, not caring that my dress is riding up.
Moses shifts his grip, spearing a hand into my hair and pinning me against him.
Fuck. It feels too good. Too right. Too perfect.
“Inside,” he says into my mouth as he shifts me to drive his hips up and the hard ridge of his cock against my clit. “Inside. Now.”
His voice brings me to my senses.
What the fuck am I doing? Letting a man waltz into my life and tell me what to do after he bailed for fifteen years, whatever the reason? No. Not tonight I’m not.
I try to move away, but Moses keeps my forehead pressed against his.
“For fifteen goddamned years I’ve wanted to be able to fuck and not think of you. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”
More than I’ll ever admit to him.
I freeze in his arms. “Let me go. Now.”
Shockingly, he does, and I scramble to the other side. “I’m not doing this again. I can’t do this.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Moses stares at me with disbelief on his face.
“I’m not fucking you until you understand you get no say-so about what I do or who I touch. You don’t get to walk into town and pretend like you own me. I’ve busted my ass and done things I never want to think about ever again, all to get me where I am. Free. I’m not handing that over to anyone. Not even you.”
He nearly growls as he rubs his palms over his clean-shaven face. “Stubborn fucking woman. You know this is what you want. You can’t lie to me, Magnolia.”
“How the hell do you know what I want, Moses? Because I don’t even know what the fuck I want anymore.” My heart is hammering behind this dark purple dress, hard enough to bust it at the seams.
His lips close, and the anger that was rolling off him dies instantly. His chest rises and falls with a few deep, steadying breaths.
“You need time to get used to the idea. I can respect that. But you can’t ask me to leave you unprotected. That’s not something I’m capable of anymore. You want to stay here tonight, then I’ll take a guest room.” He relents, and something like surrender flashes in his color-shifting eyes.
Even though I would have sworn it was impossible, a chuckle spills from my lips. “Sure thing, big man. You want the guest room? You’ve got the guest room.”
Twenty-Six
Moses
Magnolia opens her door and climbs out of the Rolls onto the sidewalk. I have only a few seconds to get back my hard-won self-possession.
I’ve spent years mastering my emotions so no one else could control me. But Magnolia seems to defy all the rules I’ve put in place to keep myself levelheaded. Not surprising, I suppose, considering Magnolia doesn’t follow anyone’s rules but her own. Something I fucking love about her, even if it’s driving me crazy right now.
I get out of the car and hustle to the gate just before it closes, leaving me and Jules outside. I stop with one hand holding it open and turn back to him.
“I’ll call you.”
He gives me a thumbs-up, and I head inside.
A thin layer of construction dust coats every surface, but it also shows me exactly where Magnolia went. Upstairs.
When I was here last night, I noticed there was no furniture on the first level, but I didn’t think anything of it because I was too busy worrying about Magnolia and the blood from the door handle of her condo. It didn’t even occur to me to ask if she had a damn bed in the place. Obviously, I should have, because when I step into the master bedroom, I see a deflated air mattress rolled out on the floor.
No wonder she gave in so easily when I said I’d take the guest room. If the master doesn’t have a bed, the guest room won’t either. That joke’s on me.
She turns around in the white-on-white-on-white room so we’re face to beautifully smug face. “You still wanna stay?”
The triumphant smile on her lips should piss me off, but it does the opposite. I want to peel that dress off her, lay her down on that cheap-ass air mattress, and make short work of popping the damn thing. If she thinks this will scare me off, she has another think coming.
“No way in hell I’m leaving now that I’m inside with your permission.”
She glances down at the air mattress. “I’ve only got one, and I’m not sharing. You can take a floor. Doesn’t even have to be the guest room. Any floor you want is fine by me, so long as it’s not in this room.”
The corners of my mouth tug at my lips, and I try to hold back my smile. It’s a losing battle.
“Mighty generous offer, mama. I’ll take it.”
She pretends she’s tired, stretches and yawns, tapping her fingers against her sexy open mouth. “I’m going to shower. Do whatever you want.” She marches toward the doorway I’m blocking.
I move to the side, giving her just enough space to squeeze by me, but I put my arm out to halt her. “You trying to wash the taste and feel of me away?”
Magnolia tilts her head to the side. “I don’t need a shower to put you out of my mind. I’m a professional at that now.”
“Then what?”
She slowly bats her long black lashes and stares me dead in the eye. “I’m going to make myself come so hard that I’ll sleep like a baby tonight, with or without you in my house.”
My dick fights against my suit pants. “No need for you to do that yourself, mama. I’m ready, willing, able, and right fucking here.”
She pouts at me like I’m a poor gutter puppy. “Not interested, Moby. Now, get out of my doorway.”
My smile can’t be held back now. “You’re a real piece of work. One hell of a woman, Magnolia.”
She rolls her eyes and turns her rosy cheek to break our eye contact. “Whatever.”
She tramps into the bathroom as I stand there, watching her as she closes the door. Surprisingly, she pauses when there’s an inch remaining and calls out, “You want to make yourself useful, blow up the air mattress. Blowing shit ain’t my thing.”
The bathroom door closes, and a burst of laughter leaves my lungs.
I told her the truth. She’s one hell of a woman.
My woman.
I just have to remind her, and then make sure she never forgets again.
Twenty-Seven
Magnolia
I don’t know where Moses sleeps in my house, but he doesn’t push to sleep on the mattress he inflated. True to my word, I went to bed sated and slept like the dead. I refuse to admit my sleep was undisturbed because I knew he was watching over me.