I was hot and flushed, and my skin felt stretched. He kept moving, the slow glide in and out of my body. “Xander,” I said on a whispered plea. I needed more. I could feel my body ramping up to another explosive orgasm. I wasn’t going to be ashamed of my body’s response to him.
“Fuck me, another one?” he growled.
I reached for his biceps that were straining under the weight of him supporting his body over me. I squeezed, digging my nails into his flesh once again. “Yes,” I cried out as the orgasm broke over me once again.
He roared, his body going stiff as he exploded inside me with such force it triggered another orgasm, piggybacking on the first. I felt as if I would black out in that moment. It was too much pleasure. Too much ecstasy. Everything went dark and then exploded into light.
He fell on top of me, kissing my neck and cheek before kissing my forehead. “Holy shit,” he breathed.
A weird laugh crossed my lips. “Yeah, holy shit.”
He moved his chest off mine a bit and looked at me. “That was unexpected. Good, but please don’t think I lured you out here for that.”
I smiled. “How do you know I didn’t do the luring?”
He grinned. “I suppose I don’t.”
He rolled off me and got to his feet in all his naked splendor. I had a very good view of the man’s body and I wasn’t about to look away—until I realized he was looking at me with one leg still resting on top of the back of the couch. I felt myself turning bright red as I quickly closed my legs and sat up.
We both quickly dressed. The awkwardness between us was thick and uncomfortable. I didn’t like to feel that way and felt it was better to address a situation head on. “I don’t want to complicate this,” I said once I had my clothes on.
He shrugged, pulling on his T-shirt. “I don’t see it as complicated.”
“I mean, this,” I said, gesturing between us. “It was nice, but I am not sure I’m in a place in my life to be involved.”
“Neither am I. We’re friends.”
“Friends with benefits?” I asked.
He smiled and stepped toward me. His hands rested loosely on my hips. “Only if that’s what you want. I don’t do serious. I’d like to hang out with you again, but we don’t need to make it a thing.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “That works for me.”
He dropped a kiss on my forehead. “I should probably get back up there and start us on our way back.”
I smiled and nodded. “I’ll clean up down here.”
He walked away, and for some really stupid reason, I felt sad. I couldn’t explain it. I was the one who said no strings attached. I think a part of me was hoping he would insist on us being something more. I wanted him to say I’d like to see you again or something like that. He didn’t. That was a good thing because I really was not looking for a boyfriend.
We were pals, buddies, friends. That was it. Nothing more. We had sex. Amazing sex. That was it. People did this all the time. I wasn’t one of those people. At least, I didn’t used to be. I was now. I had stepped into the world of sex with no strings attached. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
Chapter 13
Xander
I walked into the restaurant where I was supposed to meet Charlie. He was taking a long lunch and had the time to actually leave the plant where he worked—managed, really. He was good with his hands and had a hard time keeping to the managing. He liked the doing.
He put up his hand. “Xander,” he called.
I made my way to the table and took my seat. “Did you order yet?”
“Two BLTs.”
“One is for me, right?” I joked.
“Maybe.”
“Asshole.”
He chuckled. “How have you been? I haven’t talked to you in a week.”
“I was out of town for a few days and then I was working on that other job for a client,” I told him.
“Your pet project?”
I smiled. “Yes. It’s nice to do a little something different.”
“Whatever happened with the party planner?”
I took a drink from the glass of water. My first option was to play dumb. “What do you mean?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You know exactly what I mean. You being dodgy tells me something did happen. You said you were going to take her out on the boat.”
“I did. We had an enjoyable evening.”
The waitress brought two plates of food and set them down in front of us. After making sure we had everything we needed, she hurried away to help another group of men.
“Okay, now that there are no ears to hear, tell me the truth. You can speak above a PG rating. I think I can handle the dirty details.”
I took a bite from the fry. “I am not giving you any dirty details.”
“What happened?”
“We had a good time.”
I felt like a shithead for talking about it. Then again, I knew she had probably told her friend Nelle all about the encounter. Women did that. Guys did it and it was called locker-room talk.
“You hooked up?” he asked with a grin.
I sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to give it up. “We did.”
“On the boat?”
“Yes, on the fucking boat,” I growled. “Where else?”
He held up a hand. “Where on the boat? On the couches on the deck?”
I frowned. “No, why does it matter?”
He grimaced. “On the couch in the living room?”
I didn’t necessarily consider it a living room, but I knew what he was referring to. “I’m really not sure why it matters. Do not expect me to give you details. I’m not going to give you a blow by blow.”
“Now I have to clean the boat,” he said with disgust.
“What are you talking about?”
“You sullied the boat. I sit on that couch. Hell, I lay on the damn thing. I need to know where the bleach goes.”
I chuckled, taking another bite. “You should probably just get a hose. It would be more efficient.”
He groaned. “Oh my god. Gross.”
“You’ll survive.”
He took a bite of his sandwich. He looked thoughtful as he chewed. “You don’t expect me to sleep with you every time you take me out on the boat, do you? I think you are a cool guy and all, and you are mildly attractive, but you are just not my type.”
I ignored him and ate my sandwich. He didn’t let up. He outlined all the acts he was willing to consider and those he was adamant against. If he made a move on me, I would knock his ass out. Both of us knew that.
“Are you done yet?” I asked him when he paused for a bit.
“I just want it made clear. I like your boat, but I could buy my own boat.”
“You could build your own damn boat,” I told him.
He nodded. “I could, but that’s not the same. It wouldn’t have all those nice finishes. Any boat I would build would be utilitarian and not comfortable.”
Before I could offer to go boat shopping with him, his phone rang. Because of his job, he needed to answer his calls. “This is Charlie,” he answered.