Page 16

Chapter fifteen

Anna

I s it crazy to Google how long it takes to drive from Chris’s place to mine? Seventeen minutes. That’s how long I have until Chris shows up. I know calling someone in the middle of the night has booty call connotations, but what does inviting someone over mid- evening mean? Especially when you’ve agreed to take things slow. I resist running around my studio to tidy and prepare. One, I’m too lazy, and two, I’m too sore. This is the kind of muscle ache that makes getting on and off the toilet feel strenuous. My bed is neatly made, and my teeth vigorously brushed so I sit on the tightly tucked covers, counting down the minutes.

I yelp at the shrill ring of the door buzzer even though I’m expecting it. I’m wound up tighter than a drum. We’ll have a good time tonight, whatever happens. When he lets himself in, I’m not prepared for how delicious he looks. I’ve seen him in filthy construction man clothes, athletic clothes, hell, even shirtless through my phone. But this laid-back fresh out of the shower Saturday evening Chris is something else. He catches me staring and grins, the left side of his mouth rising as he enters, turning to lock the door behind him. His ass in grey sweats is a sight to behold, the fabric stretching against him as he bends to remove his shoes.

“How are you this evening?” He shakes the bottle of painkillers at me and now I know what a cat feels like when someone shakes their treat container.

“Not too...bad.” I wince as I rise to greet him.

He holds up a hand to stop me, “Stay where you are, I’ll get some water so you can take these. Where do you keep your glasses?”

Having a guy in my place in the evening is weird enough on its own. Sitting on my bed while he dotes on me is like an out-of-body experience.

“It’s either cabinet A or cabinet B,” I say, mocking my miniature kitchen .

He sucks air between his teeth, “50/50 chance. I’m gonna go with A.” He opens the white lacquered cabinet. “Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner!”

I slow clap as he fills the glass. “Very impressive. You got lucky.”

He raises an eyebrow and laughs, and I forget how to breathe for a second.

“Only joking around, Annie,” he says, sitting down next to me and opening his palm to reveal two round pills.

I swallow them gratefully.

“I should probably restock my medicine cabinet if you’re going to continue taking me on adventures.”

“I’d also recommend a cream for bug bites.”

“Oh, joy. Can’t wait.”

“I’ll have you whipped into shape in no time.” His eyes widen at his own comment. “Not that there’s anything wrong with your shape.”

I smirk at his correction. Maybe I’m not the only nervous one.

“Are you okay with watching a movie here?” I pat the bed next to me.

The spot that’s always empty.

Tapping his lips with one finger, he scans my cream comforter and fringed pillow.

“Slide off, it’s not quite right. ”

With only a moderate amount of pain, I scoot myself off the bed, wondering how long it will take for that medicine to kick in. I watch as Chris absolutely destroys my neatly made bed.

My mouth hangs open as he basically rips the duvet off and shakes it out like he’s tossing the place.

“I just made that!”

“Well, I’m unmaking it. Who wants to watch a movie lying on top of the covers?”

Chris karate chops my pillows and, I admit, the whole thing does look more inviting. Should have saved myself the time of making it.

“Now go change.”

“Change?”

“Yeah, into something more comfortable.”

Like lingerie? Isn’t that what women in movies say when they sneak away to put on something fancy to woo their male visitors?

“I don’t really have anything like that,” I say as Chris flops back onto the bed, making himself at home.

He tips his head. “Anything like?” Recognition dawns on his face. “Comfortable like sweatpants…leggings…”

Heat floods my face.

The tips of his ears are red. “Did you think I wanted you to—”

“Nope!” I cut him off. “All good, brB!” I say as I disappear into my bathroom.

“brB?” I mouth at the mirror, wondering if it’s possible to drown yourself in a sink.

I swear I hear muffled laughter through the door. My fingers hesitate over the clasp of my bra for only a moment before I slide it off. He did say comfortable. Once I’m in my most oversized sweats, I take a fortifying breath and return to my bed. Chris is on the far side, leaving lots of space for me.

Maybe I should buy some lingerie? How am I supposed to turn Chris on in these frumpy sweats?

He slides the remote control that lays at the end of the bed towards us with his sock foot, picking it up and pointing it at the television, which remains black despite mashing the buttons.

“There’s a trick to it. You have to get the angle right to make it work.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Chris!” I shove him with my shoulder, and he barely moves an inch.

“You set that one up for me!”

The screen comes to life and a slideshow of photos from my phone appears. Ashlyn and I smiling in her backyard in our bathing suits, laid out on towels with oversized sunglasses.

“You guys are super close, eh?”

“We’re almost the same age. And after my mom met my stepdad, I was over there a lot.”

Chris is attentive, a hand on my knee as he listens.

I sigh, figuring we’re really getting into it now. “He’s religious. My mom was always trying to find herself. One day she went to this new church. Really flashy with loud music and huge crowds. That’s where she met Thad. I don’t even like to call him my stepdad, we’re not close.”

He rubs a hand over his face. “That’s why your relationship is tough with your mom?”

“In a sense. He changed her. Or she let him change her? I’m not sure.”

He continues. “And the religious stepdad is why you haven’t…”

“I mean, not because I think there’s anything wrong with sex. Not anymore, anyway. When I left home, I did have to see a counsellor and wade through a lot of bad memories. Then time got away from me, and I’ve probably been too picky.”

He huffs a laugh. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s only I wish I’d have been more discerning over the years.”

“You regret being with some people? ”

He shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter now. But yeah. I could have chosen better.”

What went wrong with those women? Will he regret whatever happens with me?

The flash of the television catches my eye and I gasp, lunging for the remote in his hand but it’s too late. He looks to the screen where his naked torso, the photo he sent me last night, is on display.

My face burns as he bursts into laughter. The rich rumble of it vibrates against me.

“I’ll delete it. I’m sorry. The photos automatically go up there,” I explain.

“Make it your lock screen for all I care.” He grins, perfectly confident in the body he obviously works hard to hone.

“C’mere.” He throws a heavy arm around my shoulder, and we rearrange ourselves against the wall, a plethora of pillows behind our backs.

I groan when I shift my legs.

“That hike did a number on you, eh?”

“Embarrassingly, yes.”

“C’mon, give me a leg.”

I look up at him. “What?”

“It’s the least I can do. I’ll rub your sore muscles. ”

He takes my left leg over his lap before I can argue about it and sinks strong thumbs into my very tender quad. I almost go through the roof at the mix of pleasure and pain. Warmth gathers between my legs as he kneads the tension away.

“Too much?” he asks.

I’m not about to explain that his hands digging into my sore muscles is the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced so I simply shake my head. He takes his time, working his way up inch by inch over my tender muscles. Dark hairs press up against his sharp jaw. They’ll be shadowy stubble by morning. When he licks his full lower lip my heart hammers at the idea of kissing him in my bed.

Like he read my mind, he asks, “Can we make out now, Annie?”

“Uh huh,” I whisper.

He stops his massage, leaving those hot, capable hands so high on my upper thighs that my pussy throbs. Chris is practically panting, his short, hot breaths tickle my skin as he leans closer. So this is what it takes to get the man's heart rate up. Starting at my temples, his long fingers rake through my hair before cupping the back of my head. When he grazes his lips back and forth against mine like he’s savouring the texture, I sigh and open for him. One smooth stroke of his tongue over mine and I melt, leaning to get closer. Chris controls the angle, tipping me ever so slightly to deepen the kiss. This is incredible. I’ve never been kissed like this. He’s been holding back.

While my mouth works to learn from his, my hands have a mind of their own. I’m desperate to touch some of that smooth, tanned skin I saw in his photo. I reach between us, my palms splaying across his broad chest. Beneath the thin fabric of his white t-shirt, the rough texture of his chest hair and the heat of him sink into my skin. His groan is one of torturous pleasure. What would it be like to rest my cheek against that chest? His abs are as hard as they looked when I stroke down them. I grasp the hem of his shirt, lifting it enough that I can now feel an inch of his bare skin. He sucks air between his teeth and rests his forehead on mine like he’s getting a hold of himself.

“I’m trying to go slow for you.”

“I appreciate that,” I say carefully. “But…maybe we could speed it up a teensy , tiny bit.”

I push his shirt up higher as I say it. His skin is positively radiating heat.

“Oh, Anna. You’re killing me.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Screw it.”

He rises onto his knees and pulls the shirt off over his head in that easy arms arms-crossed way men do. My lips are already tingling from his kisses and now my jaw is slack. I can’t pull my eyes away from his abs and the way they seem to keep going, even beyond the low-slung waistband of his sweats. The dangling drawstring of his untied pants is like an invitation to a party I don’t feel cool enough to attend. When he chuckles, it draws my attention back to his face, his tongue stuck in one cheek while he smirks.

“You look good, and you know it . ”

“What did I say? Lock screen.”

“I prefer the real live version.” I rise to my knees to meet him and steel myself for what I’m about to do next.

His playful expression fades, brown eyes widening as I grasp the hem of my own shirt. The tender look in his eyes quells my nerves. Now I’m simply excited to see what his reaction to my half-naked body will be. I peel the shirt off, tossing it behind me, leaving me bared to him.

“Annie.” Chris’s voice is husky.

His strong hands grasp his thighs, knuckles white. My nipples tighten as he looks between my breasts. A strand of hair falls from my ponytail, brushing my collarbone. He moves seamlessly, gently touching the spot where the hair fell and replacing it with kisses that dip lower and lower onto the swells of my breasts. Soon, I’m reclined between a mound of pillows and a man. It might be the best place I’ve ever been. I can feel his unmistakable erection against my hip and without thinking I roll my pelvis against him, eliciting a low moan from deep in his chest. He captures my nipple between his lips, sucking hard. Jolts of pleasure zip down between my legs as he continues to suck and kiss and lick me.

“Chris, please.”

What am I even asking for?

“Medium.”

“Hmm?”

“I changed my mind. I don’t want slow. I want medium.”

“Those are shirt sizes, Anna. Tell me what the hell you want.”

His breathing is laboured as he moves away from my chest and renders me speechless with a filthy kiss.

“We’re not having sex,” he says, taking a short break from devouring my mouth.

“Not yet ,” I clarify.

“Is that so?”

“Mmm hmm. It’s inevitable. I want you to be my first.”

“Christ, Anna.”

Chris falls onto his side, dragging a hand down the dip of my waist to play with the top of my sweats.

“Can I take these off?”

My stomach squeezes at the idea of being totally naked with a man. I’m at ease in my own bed, though, in the nest of blankets and pillows with the heat of Chris’s torso sinking into my skin.

“Yes, I want you to.”

His eyes darken, jaw clenching as he sits up and kneels on either side of my legs to work the loose pants down my hips. When the fabric is low enough and he sees that I’m not wearing panties he groans, adjusting himself. The bulge is huge. Lowering himself onto his stomach between my parted legs, his eyes are fixed between my thighs. The urge to close them out of shyness is strong, but with him in the way I couldn’t if I wanted to.

With something close to reverence, he glides his fingers with whisper-light touches over my bare lips.

“You are so damn soft,” he murmurs.

The skin on his palms and fingers may be rough with hard-earned callouses but he’s touching me so gently. Despite the feathery touches, there’s an ache forming deep inside me, and I know I’m noticeably wet. With the slightest increase in pressure, he parts me.

“And so damn pretty.”

My cheeks prickle with heat as I draw a shaky breath.

I’m so wet that he barely touches my entrance but comes away with slick fingers that he glides over my clit with that same maddening, mind-blowing delicate touch. Everything feels tight from my abs to my aching, empty pussy. Over and over, he strokes my clit, his face so close that hot breath tickles my inner thighs.

“I want more,” I cry, too turned on to care that I’m begging.

I could cry when he stops and climbs up the bed to lay on my left side.

“Chris,” I practically pout.

I reach down, easily finding the bulge in his sweats. Wrapping my fingers around him the best I can, I squeeze. He’s so damn hard.

He thrusts against my touch with a deep moan that makes me squirm closer to him.

Almost as quickly he backs his hips up, out of my reach.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, worried I gripped him too tight.

“No. Hell, no. I want you so bad it hurts. Literally. But tonight, I’m going to make you come and that’s it. There’s no hurry with me.”

He emphasizes the last word and I know he’s trying to convey that he isn’t like Darren.

I nod up at him, knowing he’s right. We don’t need to do everything all in one evening.

There’s no hurry.

I shiver as he trails his fingers down my left breast and stomach until his teasing over the skin of my mound .

“Has anyone ever put their fingers inside of you?”

I shake my head, cheeks burning as I lift my hips to encourage him to touch me harder. These gentle touches are becoming more than I can bear. I ache as his finger circles my opening.

“Part your legs.”

I do as he says, the cool air of the room accentuating how wet I am. With torturous speed, the pressure of his finger increases until he’s filling me. I whimper, his hands so much bigger and rougher and hotter than my own, easily reaching parts of me I’ve never managed. Rolling onto my left side, I bury my face in his bare chest as he pulls out his finger before sliding it back inside. I breath in the spicy scent of his soap.

“Chris, you feel so good.”

He picks up the pace, keeping his finger deep inside me while pressing against my g-spot.

“Ohmigod, ohmigod,” I pant, kissing his chest that’s burning hot beneath my lips.

“You got something to give me, honey?” he asks, and I feel myself contract.

His thumb makes lazy circles over my clit while that one finger does actual wonders inside me, hitting spots I never do. I’m getting so tight.

“There you go. Give me that orgasm, Anna.”

I want to give it to him. Give him everything I have. He’s perfect at this. Perfect for me.

“I’m coming, Chris.” His name is a sigh on my lips as I fall over the edge, pulsing against the work of his hand.

The tension I’ve been holding about this moment melts away.

“That was perfect. You did that perfectly for me.”

A fresh blush heats my cheeks while he brings me down from the orgasm of my life with lighter and lighter motions until he finally withdraws his hand. I’m vaguely aware of him climbing up the bed, the mattress sinking where his hands and knees land, before sliding next to me and pulling the duvet over us both. When he drags me close, my back against his chest, his arousal through his sweats is unmistakable. I wiggle back against him to get comfortable, but also because the hard length of him is addictive.

“Stop that, you.” Strong arms band around me, preventing me from continuing.

Between the orgasm and the thrum of Chris’s heart against my upper back my eyelids feel leaden in no time.

My dreams that night must be spicy, because I wake up hot and bothered with the vague recollection of early morning kisses and the jingle of keys. Noticing that my keys aren’t where I left them, I reach out to retrieve the note beneath them .

Good morning. Last night was amazing. Remember, no hurry. I took your apartment key off your keyring to lock up and put it through the salon mail slot.

Talk later,

Chris.