Page 13 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

Just as the kiss starts to deepen, I pull myself away. And it’s not because I want it to stop.

It’s because I want even more.

Five years ago, I declared that I was done with men, dating, and anything along that avenue. I was going to be a business woman, a daughter, a sister, and a mother. Therefore, I couldn’t fit in another thing.

Figuratively and literally.

Until now, I’ve never wavered in that decision. I’ve never thought that there was something missing.

But as Logan holds me, our bodies swaying together with the music, his heartbeat thumping against my chest as his strong hand holds me against him, and liquid courage in the form of gin martinis rushes through me, I realize I want this. And him. Frankly, I probably want this too much from a man I just met and am never going to see again.

I’m never going to see again…

“Logan?”

“Yes, Love?”

“Is that room ready?”

4

logan

I’ve always pridedmyself on being a gentleman.

I open doors and help women into seats. I carry their bags and hold their hands as they step out of cars.

I wasn’t gentlemanly earlier tonight when I made a bet with Maeve about who would get a room first. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I got mine when we arrived and already had the keycard in my wallet.

Now all I can think about is getting her into that room and tasting her lips again.

Except now I must wait for a bloody lift that I apparently have to share with six other people.

“Patience,” she whispers, sensing my eagerness.

“Not one of my virtues.”

“You’ll be fine,” she says. “It’s just a few floors.”

“Try twenty-three,” I groan as I pull us to the back, placing her in front of me as the other people get situated. Everyone else calls out their floor numbers, but I keep quiet. I don’t need to bring attention that we’re going to the penthouse level. I don’t want any attention on us at all. Not for what just came through my mind.

“Stand still,” I order through a whisper, my lips against her ear. Her body goes still at my command, which makes my cock harder than it already is.

Oh…does Maeve like being told what to do? That makes sense. Because Maeve is the kind of woman who wants control. Needs it. Dare I saycravesit. Has she ever let go? Does she want to? Judging by how her body is reacting to my simple order, I think she does.

And luckily for her, I’m just the man who can give that to her.

Not because I’m some sort of dominant in the bedroom, but I can take the lead. I can be whatever she wants me to be, because all I want is to see her come apart at my touch. I want to hear her scream my name. Knowing that I made a woman find that release? There’s no better high. So however I need to be, and whatever I need to do, to get them there—sign me up.

But I have a feeling Maeve isn’t going to be as easy as asking if she wants top or bottom. I’m going to go on a limb and guess that she’s always been in charge, but until right now, she didn’t know she wanted to just let go. To feel pleasure so deeply that her brain shuts off. To take every decision out of her hands so she can truly experience what it’s like to be cared for.

And because I have only this one night, I’m going to make damn sure that’s what I do.

Doing my best not to make a sound, I kneel down behind her, pretending that I’m tying my shoe. When I’m sure no one is looking, I slowly start moving my hand up her leg.

“Oh!” she yelps, causing a few people to turn and look. They apparently don’t notice me on the ground, or where my hand is, because they just go back to staring ahead after Maeve mouths an apology.

I look to catch her biting her lip as she subtly widens her stance as my hand travels up her leg. I swallow a groan as I keepgoing, her pose now perfect as I slide my hand over the wet lace at her pussy.

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