Page 9 of Man of the Month Club: January
While my body bucks and squeezes around his thick length, he moans and loses control along with me. I cry out and pulse around him, delirious with pleasure as astounding, blissful waves of satisfaction rip through my body.
We gaze into each other’s eyes as we climax as one and shudder, allowing the zinging aftershock tingles to ripple throughout our systems, leaving us warm and satiated.
When he sighs and presses sweet kisses into my neck, I breathe in his delectable, masculine scent. I wish this splendid connection between us could last forever, but, unfortunately, I know it can’t.
8
Jett
The magnificent woman of my dreams is still naked and locked in my embrace, but I can feel her pulling away––not physically, but emotionally. I sense that she’s searching her mind for reasons why things can’t work out between us, while I’m contemplating my need to make our relationship work at any cost.
When she tries to move, I tighten my arms around her and say, “Don’t even think about leaving.”
She stiffens, making me wonder if I’m being too much of a brute, until her body softens and she begins to relax. Even though I know it’s a temporary reprieve from her concerns about us, I opt to take the win. After pulling the blanket up over us, I take a deep breath of her floral scent, rest a possessive hand on the curve of her hip, and let my eyes drift closed.
Normally, sleep eludes me, but with Maggie in my arms, all feels right with my world. I wake up feeling more refreshed than I have in years, but I don’t dare move for fear of disturbing the lovely woman nestled next to me.
She lets out tiny, adorable puffs of air in her slumber. I’m certain I could listen to her light snoring for the rest of my life without ever tiring of it.
Daylight is just beginning to stretch across the water. I know she won’t want to risk being seen out here, but I’m afraid to wake her. If she decides this will be the end of our time together, I don’t know how I’ll handle it. I won’t force her into anything, but the last thing I want is to let her go… ever.
Inevitably, she begins to stir. I’m delighted when the broad smile curves her lips just before she opens her eyes, until she stiffens in my embrace and snaps her eyes over to glare into mine.
“It’s almost daylight,” she screeches.
“I was getting ready to wake you, but it feels so good to have you naked in my arms, I couldn’t quite bring myself to rouse you,” I tell her honestly.
My soothing words do nothing to calm her escalating panic. She yanks the blanket up higher on her right side as she says, “I need to get out of here before anyone sees me.”
“I’ll take you to your car on my way to work,” I assure her as I reluctantly release my grip on her and move to sit up.
When I stand, she quickly adjusts the blanket to cover the parts of herself that are exposed from my departure. The dawn light is dim, but I feel her gaze on my backside. I turn to face her, completely unashamed of my nakedness. Her gaze travels automatically to my morning wood, which is straining out in her direction.
After she manages to force herself to look back up at my eyes, I give her a knowing smile before saying, “Unless you’d rather go for round two before we leave?”
“No,” she shakes her head to back up the devastating word.
“Later then?” I try.
She continues shaking her head as she says, “Turn around so I can get my clothes on.”
Even though turning away from her radiating beauty is the last thing I want to do, I comply with her request before we both begin dressing. Once we’re back in last night’s clothes, I say, “I’d offer to help you clean up in the double-headed shower inside, but my belongings aren’t arriving until later today, so it would just be a rinse-off, with no soap or shampoo.”
“I just want to go home,” she murmurs as she moves past me to climb back onto the dock.
I can feel her slipping away from me, but I don’t know how to put a stop to it. I sense that the harder I try to hold onto her, the more she’ll pull back. But I can’t just let this end. She’s too vital to my existence.
Frantic for any plausible reason to see her again as soon as possible, I pull my cell phone out of the pocket of my pants and glare at the screen. Using my best acting skills, I say, “Dammit.”
I’d known the simple word would draw out her empathetic instincts, so I have to force myself not to grin when it works perfectly and she turns back to ask in a concerned tone, “What’s wrong?”
“I have a scheduling conflict that I didn’t realize until just now when the reminder popped up on my calendar. The movers are supposed to be here today with all of my belongings, but I have showings scheduled with a very important client, who is only in Indy for the day.”
Both statements are technically true, but I have given the movers explicit instructions. My boxes and furniture are all clearly marked, so it’s not necessary for anyone to be here to instruct them. But it is the best excuse I can come up with on such short notice, so I’m going with it.
My gut instinct believes that Maggie would say no if I asked her on a second date, but her soft heart won’t be able to resist a plea for help.
Proving that my hunch is spot-on, Maggie offers, “I could meet the movers for you, if you like.”
