Tap (Men of Lovibond 1)

She lifts her head to look at me. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m being stupid and thinking about things I can’t control.”

“Tell me.”

I shake my head. I don’t want anything to stand in the way of me being inside her. “It’s nothing,” I whisper as I move to settle my body between her legs so we’re face to face.

She grabs me behind my neck and brings my mouth down to hers. Her kiss is soft. Slow. Sweet.

Our mouths are still touching when she speaks, so I feel the movement of her lips against mine. “Make love to me this time.”

My cock is right there. One thrust and I could be inside her. It sucks so fucking bad I have to stop to get protection.

“Let me grab a condom first.” Fucking mood killer.

I dress out in latex and nestle myself between her legs again. She brings them up and parts them wide for me to get closer. I’m hard and she’s drenched. Perfect combination.

She lifts her hips, coaxing my tip inside. She rocks her hips harder and it’s all the invitation I need to slide my remaining length into her. Oh, fuck! This is deep and she feels so good.

I keep things slow. I want this to go on forever and ever.

My hands find hers and bring them above her head where our fingers weave together tightly. She opens her eyes and they watch mine as I move above her. It feels like our souls are meeting and . . . something is happening. I can’t give it a name. But I like it.

Sex up until now has been all about release, sexual gratification. Have I looked into a woman’s eyes and seen this level of focus before? Desire? Make love to me this time. Can I do that? Don’t you have to be in love to make love? But she feels so fucking good. In and out, hot meets hot, my balls slap against her despite going slower, and it is all I can do to stop from exploding straight away. The noises she makes, the soft pants, the way her eyelids flutter closed as if the effort required to hold them open is too hard. And, that makes me feel good. She feels good. So good I never want it to end.

I groan as I squeeze her hands and thrust one last time, coming into the condom inside her. Her legs wrap around my waist with ankles crossed behind my back. That’s it. Bring me closer until there isn’t a bit of space between us.

Fuck, I wish I were coming inside her without this tight ass balloon wrapped around my dick.

I pull out and roll to my side so I can get the damn thing off and drop it in the trashcan. “Sorry. I know those things are mood killers.”

“It is what it is. Can’t be helped.”

I scoot close and lie on my back, pulling Wren against my chest. I rub my hand up and down her arm and discover she’s cold. “Here, baby. Get under the covers with me.”

I kiss the top of her head, hold her tightly, and think. That wasn’t simply sex. We connected.

I’m not equipped to deal with this; it’s not something I’m accustomed to doing. I have no idea what to say or do now.

I only know holding her feels right.

My mouth is motionless but my mind is not. It’s racing with a million thoughts as I try to make sense of what just occurred. And try to predict what will happen Monday morning when I leave her.

We lie in each other’s arms, saying nothing. And that’s how we fall asleep.

* * *

It’s our last day together, at least on this visit. I say that in my head like there’ll be more in the future. But what if there isn’t? What if this is it for us?

Please don’t let this be the end. As the thought goes through my head, I’m not sure who I’m asking. God? Me? Her?

I want to talk about this, tell Wren how I feel, and I’m not waiting until the morning I leave. I snuggle up to her naked body and wrap my arms around her from behind. “Are you awake?”

She stretches, arches her back, and moans. Damn, that’s sexy. “I am now.”

My dick twitches alive but I try to convince him to settle. This isn’t about that. “Sorry. It’s almost time to get up and I wanted to talk first.”

“O . . . kay.” She sounds hesitant.

“I go home in the morning and I don’t want to have this conversation as I’m on the way out the door.”

“What conversation would that be?”

This is it. I’m going in headfirst. “The one where we decide what this is and where it’s going.”

“Oh. That’s a scary discussion.”

No shit. “It is but I still want to have it.

“I assume you’re bringing it up because you’ve been thinking about it.”

Seems like it’s the only thing bouncing around in my fucking head. “Haven’t you?”

“Of course.”

I brought this up. I can’t do that and then ask her to be the one to show her cards first. “I don’t want this to be over.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.” I could totally blow everything with Wren by saying this but I’m going to anyway. “August was hell because you weren’t part of it. I don’t want to go through September without you in it.”

“You want me for September?”

Maybe I didn’t phrase that as well as I could. “How ’bout we start with September? See if it could be the beginning of something really good for us.”

“First, tell me about the women in your life. The ones you fuck.” I guess I should have known she’d ask.

“You’re the only woman I’m fucking.”

She looks over her shoulder at me. “Would that be the case when you leave me here and go back to Birmingham?”

I’ve slept around because it’s what I’ve wanted, not because I have a problem being monogamous. “If you wanted to be the only one, then you would be. But I would expect the same loyalty. No more dating restaurant dude. Or anyone else.”

“Of course.”

We need a plan if we’re going to make this work. “How often would we see each other?”

“Six hours is a long trip. Could we pull it off every other weekend, alternating so we each drive it once a month?”

Every other weekend doesn’t seem often enough. “Maybe sometimes we meet halfway so we don’t have to wait so long.”

“That’s a good idea. A three-hour drive is far more manageable.”

It’s breaking bro code but I can’t go into a relationship with Wren and not tell her about the texting thing. It could be disastrous for us if she found out I was the one texting her as Stout for a whole month.

I came to love texting with Wren even if the words going to her weren’t perceived as those of Lucas Broussard. I could almost hear her voice and laughter in every message she sent. But I hated the lying part. Each text, or lie, became harder to send as the days passed.

“I have something to tell you. I’m not sure how you’ll take it but I want to go into this with complete honesty.”

She rolls over so she’s facing me. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“It’s not horrible. Or at least I hope you don’t think so.”

“I’ll be the judge.”

“Stout got into a tiny bit of trouble with the law. A DUI.”

She puts her hand to the bridge of her nose and pinches. “Oh, lawdy.”

“He worried it might reflect poorly on Lovibond if he were prosecuted. Per his attorney’s advice, he voluntarily entered an intense substance abuse clinic for a month to sway the judge to drop the charges. It was total overkill but he did it for Lovibond.”

“And you didn’t want the guilt of keeping that secret from me?”

I wish that were all it was. “There’s more. He didn’t want you to know so I agreed to take his phone for that month and correspond with you, as him, since he wasn’t allowed to bring it into the facility.”

“When was this?”

The shit is about to get deep. “I had been doing it for two weeks when you came to Birmingham during the beer festival.”

“Well, you sucked at your job. Bad.”

“I know. I was busy with preparations for the festival so I couldn’t respond to all your texts. The truth is you annoyed the hell out of me those first couple of weeks. But then you came to Birmingham and I was fucking taken with you.” I wasn’t lying when I said she had bewitched me. She had.

“Those two weeks after I left, the time when you say you were bewitched by me, you texted me as him but never yourself?”

I wanted to so badly. “I had a warning from Stout to stay away from you. I tried like hell, but fuck me, I couldn’t do it anymore. So I came for you. I had to find out if there is something between us. And I believe there is. I think we could be really good together.”

She rolls away from me. “I need a minute to digest this.”

“Listen to me, Wren. I didn’t know you when I agreed to do it. You were a faceless name. I was already committed to deceiving you when we met.”