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When a base runner is on second or third base, they are in scoring position.
SYDNEY
Don’t worry, I didn’t leave you hanging. We’re just about to the good stuff. So pay the fuck attention.
Inside the house, we waste no time getting to the bedroom upstairs. He trips twice in an attempt to carry me, and eventually, we end up in my bedroom. Where Collin and I slept. The thought isn’t lost on me, but I care about none of that as I try to wiggle my way out of my mom jeans.
I attempt to get them off when I smack my foot into the bedframe. “Son of a baseball!”
He laughs, helping me to the bed. “Need help?”
“If you don’t want me to knock myself out before we get to the good stuff, then yeah, help a girl out.”
With a gentle push, he lays me flat on the mattress and hastily removes his shirt. I’m not disappointed by what’s revealed. I mean, come on. Athletic twenty-two-year-old without a shirt on? It’s breathtaking to see such honed and perfect muscles. Again, I should have considered baseball players sooner.
Leaning forward, he plants both hands on the mattress when he notices my hesitation before I do. He moves between my legs hanging off the edge of the bed and toward him. A tenderness runs between us, and his movements slow. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t want to tell him that he might struggle to get these jeans off, and we should probably just cut them off, because that’s not what’s wrong here. He can read me better than I can. The truth is, the second I’m on that bed, and I look up at the ceiling, I’m reminded that I once shared this bedroom with another man, who wasn’t the one hovering over me.
He swallows and nods, but utters no words for a beat. “We don’t have to.”
I can’t keep my hands off him and start pawing at his chest, desperate to touch him. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”
He’s just as focused, refusing to take his hands off me. “Then what is it?”
“I’m usually not the kind of girl that does things like this.”
His mouth finds mine again, and for the first time, our no-no parts make friends. It’s amazing. I grind into him, wrapping my legs around his waist, desperate for more. His head falls forward, the muscles in his chest tightening as he flexes his hips forward. “You mean the kind that fucks a guy she met at a bar?”
“Yeah.” I wince. It sounds bad when he says it like that, doesn’t it? “But technically, I met you at coffee.”
“True.” A breath expands his chest, his muscles flexing with the movement. “But I don’t think that. I wouldn’t.”
Sitting up on my elbows, I crane my neck forward and take a deep breath. “You’re saying that so we’ll have sex, aren’t you?” I seek out his lips, wanting more of those kisses he gave me in the car.
“Well… yeah.” Raising one leg up on the bed, he circles his other arm around my waist, then he’s giving me his weight, desperately rocking into me. Oh,yes. That’s perfect. Fuck. If there’s one thing these tight-ass jeans are good for, it’s dry humping. I can even feel the ridges in his cock!
Be jealous. Beveryjealous!
“At least you’re honest. Most guys wouldn’t be so honest.”
His kiss breaks, and his eyes dip to my chest and then my lips. “I’m joking. I don’t think that.” His brow knits together again. “Your husband died, and he was cheating on you.”
“Yeah. That.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers, his mouth dipping to my collarbone. His kiss paints seductively across my chest. “You can have fun yourself. He’s not holding you back anymore. Now it’s my turn to make you forget he even existed at all.”
His words are exactly what I need to hear and sparks a fiery desire I can’t put out. I push back and remove my shirt. The pants will be a different story.
With the same intensity he had in the bar, his eyes roam over my body, and suddenly, I’m self-conscious. I’m naked—almost—vulnerable, and his eyes are blazing with desire, confirming there’s no need for insecurities here. He wouldn’t have come here if he didn’t want this.
“You are fucking beautiful,” he tells me, lifting up to work on his belt buckle. There’s a clanking of his belt and the sound of his zipper lowering.
Yes!Now we’re getting to the good stuff. I motion to my own jeans, struggling. “I’m gonna need help with these jeans.”
Before he takes his off, he smiles and reaches for my hips. “It’d be my pleasure.” His fingers glide over the band to the edges and then curl around it, dipping inside and gathering my panties with it. Okay, so no wasting any time.
Shit, did I shave down there?