The Wrong Man (Alpha Men 3)

“That was nice,” she murmured happily, and he found himself glaring at the wall. Nice? Seriously?

He nudged her up and she lifted her butt lazily while he tugged off the condom and clumsily knotted it, setting it aside for later. She sat back down on his lap, her wet nakedness smooshing against his wet nakedness. She didn’t seem to mind.

“What did you do with the other one?” she asked drowsily, and he shifted to look down into her very contented face.

“What do you mean?”

“The condom. That night in the barn?” His brow furrowed.

“You’re seriously asking me about that right now?”

“Yes. It bugged me for a while after that. I kept picturing one of the poor farmworkers picking it up. Or my father.” She shuddered delicately at that thought.

“I didn’t leave it in the barn. That’s disgusting.” He was offended that she’d even think that about him.

“Well, then, what did you do with it?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Put it in my pocket and discarded it when I got to a bathroom.”

“Oh. Good.” She wriggled a bit to get more comfortable, and of course it had a predictable effect on his body. She pushed herself up and peered at him through her messy hair. She moved against him, this time with more purpose, and he sucked his breath in through his teeth at the delightful friction.

“More?” she asked hopefully, and he grinned.

“Sunshine, we’re just getting started.”

Hours and hours and so many orgasms later, Lia sat up in bed with a contented sigh and stared down at the man who had satisfied her so completely tonight. He was wiped out, fast asleep, spread-eagled on his back with his arms thrown out on either side of him. He had dragged her close just before falling asleep, tucking her against his side, but she had wriggled away almost immediately, because it felt dangerously close to cuddling and cuddling was a huge no-no.

Because Sam didn’t have the use of his right arm and because he wasn’t as physically adept as usual, Lia had been on top every time. Sam had been very vocal in both his appreciation of her and his demands. Still, she knew he wanted to do more and that his current weakness frustrated him. But despite that, it had still been streets ahead of anything she’d experienced with Clayton. Lia sighed again and shifted her legs over the edge of the bed and pushed herself up.

“Where are you going?” The gravelly voice sent shivers up her spine, and she fought the urge to climb back onto the bed with him.

“Home. It’s late. Or early,” she rectified with a giggle. “Take your pick.”

“You should stay,” he growled, and she laughed outright at that.

“I don’t think so. But thanks for the offer.” She leaned over and planted a kiss on his lips. Just because she could. And because he looked rumpled and sleepy and gorgeous. His left hand lifted to the back of her head and kept her there while he deepened the kiss. She made a small sound of surrender, and her hands went to his chest and then smoothed up over his shoulders and his throat until she was cupping his jaw.

She took another taste, her tongue lazily sweeping over his lush lower lip before, with a reluctant sigh, she lifted her head. His eyes caught and held hers.

“You okay?”

“More than okay,” she said with a smile. “This was a good idea. I feel fantastic. Thank you.”

He chuckled.

“Always so polite, sunshine. I’ve never been thanked for sex before.”

“I was thanking you for the orgasms,” she corrected primly, feeling brazen, and was pleased when his laugh deepened.

“Never been thanked for an orgasm, either.”

“Well, I’m happy to rectify that oversight,” she said with a blush. “I should go.”

She gathered her clothes and, despite already being stark naked, took them to the en suite and dressed there. His laughter followed her into the bathroom.

When she emerged from the bathroom, it was to find him clad in a pair of briefs and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You sure I can’t convince you to stay?”

“We’re flinging, remember? Staying over doesn’t fall within the fling guidelines.”

“You have guidelines? How do you have guidelines? Where would you even find them?”

“On the internet.” He gaped at her.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“You found actual guidelines?” He couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that idea.

“A few. I chose different ones from different lists and tailored a set of rules to suit our situation. Is that weird?”

“A little.” He nodded and then smiled. “But I suppose it’s also practical. Maybe you should share this list with me? I should know the rules so that I don’t overstep.”

“Of course you won’t overstep. I think men kind of live by these rules when they’re involved with someone unimportant.”

“You’re not unimportant,” he snapped, actually sounding offended. “I’ve never called you unimportant.”