I closed the front door.
“Just make yourself at home,” I said, hearing him chuckle from the entryway. Along the way, I picked up my shoes and coat. I hadn’t even bothered to put them away when I’d come in. I’d literally gone straight for the bottle but tucked them both in my closest when I made my way in.
Holy fuck.
I stared at the image in my vanity, hair mussed and lipstick smeared. I decided to rub the matte tone off, which took nothing short of a power sander considering it was virtually smear proof.
We’d been kissing rather hard.
Oh God, was this actually happening?
It was, and I was about to let this guy dick me down until I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. I wanted him to. God, did I want him. I wrestled in my closest for something easier to get out of when I heard him chuckle again from somewhere in the condo.
“Uh, Bri?” he questioned, another deep laugh. “You don’t have any furniture.”
Shit.
I faced palmed myself, all my living room furniture still waiting on delivery. I’d bought it all from the furniture store, but it wasn’t supposed to be delivered until next week. I basically only had what I’d come down from Jersey with, my car, my bedroom furniture, and a fraction of my personal items. I’d wanted to start over here, start fresh. I angled my head. “Sorry. I ordered it, but it hasn’t come in yet.”
Silence from the living room, another laugh. “Well, do you, uh… at least have a bed?”
I did have one of those, and when I reappeared, I noticed he’d dimmed the lights, the electric fireplace on. He’d obviously managed that and made do with my lack of furniture by lounging his big body on the floor. He’d been staring toward the hearth, his coat and dark shoes off. He had the shoes arranged neatly at the edge of the coat, which he spread out like a picnic blanket beneath him, his suit jacket off and folded beside that. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up and tie loose, he angled up on his knees to adjust the flame. Looking like a complete erotic vision.
Looking completely beautiful.
His hair waved in a tousle of angry curls over his eyes, the state he’d been in when he rushed to my door and made himself known to me again. When he’d taken what he wanted, when he’d given himself to me but only after I pushed him. Something told me this Ramses was a very good boy, and I never thought I’d be the one to turn him savage, raw, as that was completely not me.
“Brielle…”
His eyes on my teddy, a raven black as it fluttered over what I considered imperfections. My hips wide and tummy soft. I worked out, but there we just some things the Stairmaster, constant sit ups, and daily runs couldn’t hide. There were things that held history, thighs that subtly weaved with not one, but several tiger stripes. I had stretch marks, most women did, and I was front of Ramses, literal perfection and probably would be well into his days. Guys, in general, were just built differently, age or not.
He angled up, as if in awe of me by the way he stared, but something told me, since I flashed him tits beneath this teddy, his focused attention had something to do with that. I pebbled tight, diamond hard especially in front of his more than observant gaze. His mouth parted. “Damn.”
Good damn or bad damn? I’d ask him if I was bold enough, and really, did people do lingerie if they were causally sleeping together? The last time I’d dated and flirted, I was pretty sure Twitter didn’t even exist.
I scratched bare toes behind my ankle, a nervous tick and something I couldn’t hide. I shrugged. “Too much?”
Please don’t say too much. Please don’t make me feel embarrassed or judged. I already feel completely inferior in front of you.
It took a second for his response, and all the while I felt the pull of a slow retreat back to my bedroom. But then he shook his head, so slow.
“No,” he said, no before waving his hand. “Come here. Come to me.”
Come to him.
Okay.
I couldn’t help but smile, some of that shyness fading away, he brought me down to my knees with him, and on just his hip, he still outdid me in height by like a foot. He was a really big boy, a big man.
He cradled my face as I came down, pushing my hair away. He eased me down to my back, a full hand between my breasts.
I sucked in a breath as he eased the teddy off one of my tits, warming my breast beneath a fisted hand. So Ramses was a breast man, noted.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he growled, my throat jumping. My thighs held a tremble but mostly due to surprise as his hand disappeared between them. I didn’t consider myself particularly body conscious, but this was new, and he was, well, a stranger.
A stranger with beautiful eyes and a hungry mouth, his tongue gliding down my thigh as his finger hooked the lingerie over my sex. He teased me beneath the sheer lace, his eyes peeking up and his grin wicked. He blew hot breath over my pussy lips, his digit playing at the seam. “How do you taste, Brielle?”
He continued to play and tease, and I was up on the balls of my feet. I wanted to grab him. I wanted him to do something but all he did was allow his knuckle to graze my flesh. Eventually, he worked his way through, knuckling my clit with soft pressure but not long before he tugged away.