“He said he believed me. He said that he was sorry that I felt that way. Or maybe it was his wife that was doing the apologizing, I don’t remember. I don’t really care, either, because you know what? It’s not up to them to decide. Even if what they think they’re doing is in the best interest for their son, I’m not getting involved with someone unless I’m sure that they’re the person I want to be with, one hundred percent.
“And there’s another thing,” I said. “Something else that I think you should know.”
“What is it?”
“I know who leaked the information about Martin.”
He looked surprised. “You do?”
“Yeah.”
“Who?”
“Jonathan.”
“Jonathan? You mean the Jonathan that works here?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he told me.”
“Oh.”
The expression on Ian’s face was hard to read. He very much looked like he didn’t want to believe me, but he also knew that I wouldn’t make this up.
“He told you that?”
“He did. I was really surprised, too.”
“But I don’t understand . . . why would he . . .” Ian shook his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Well, it kind of does, but I don’t want to talk about that right now. All I want to do is enjoy the fact that I am here with you, because you’ve really been all that I’ve been able to think about. I don’t want to think about anything else. Can we do that? Can we just enjoy being together with each other?”
“Of course we can,” I said.
“I don’t want to talk about Jonathan; I don’t want to talk about Billy.” He brushed a strand of my hair back from my face. “I just want to see you.”
He leaned down and kissed me, wrapping me up in his arms as he did so. I let my eyes fall shut and my body melt into his, the warmth of him enveloping me in a tingling pleasure that swirled over my whole body. I ran my hands through his hair, down the back of his skull, his neck, felt the thick, ropy muscles there, his smooth, broad shoulders. He started to kiss my neck, biting at me lightly. He pulled my shirt off, then my bra, and his hands went to my breasts. He moved his head lower and began to kiss one of them as he squeezed the other one, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. When he straightened, I slid my hand between his legs, felt his cock pushing at his pants. I undid the button, pulled down the fly, and slid them over his hips. I rubbed my palm over and around the head of his cock, and he groaned softly into my hair.
W
e made our way slowly over to the bed, and we stretched out, lying down on our sides so we were facing each other. I kept my hand on his cock, slowly moving it up and down the shaft, and he slid his hand through my pubic hair, down into my pussy. I was already plenty wet, and he slipped a finger inside of me, then pulled it back out and ran it lightly over my clit in a clockwise motion. I pressed against him, rocking my hips back and forth. What I really wanted, though, was to feel him inside of me, his weight pressing down on top of me. As though he knew exactly what I was thinking, he stopped, retrieved his pants, pulled his wallet out, and then a condom. The sensation ebbed only a little while he was doing that; in fact, it might have made it even more intense when he came back over and rolled me onto my back. I let my legs fall apart, and he positioned himself between them, lowering down onto his forearms slowly, leaning his head down to kiss me. He kept his mouth against mine as he pushed himself into me, letting out a low groan as I took him all the way in.
And then he stopped for a moment, and we just lay there like that, connected, his weight on top of me, my legs wrapped around him, and it felt like we had merged together, we were connected, this was exactly how things were supposed to be. He started to move his hips and I moved with him, scooping my tailbone every time he thrust forward, so he was hitting the exact right spot that made my whole body feel like it was going to dissolve in pleasure. I let my eyes close and lost myself in the feeling, not bothering to hold back as the sensations tingled and grew and it felt so good it was like we were both completely engulfed by it.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ian
Things were good—no, great—other than the little problem of Jonathan. I’d gotten a little sidetracked after Daisy first told me what happened, not just with Seamus, but also with Jonathan, and I hadn’t given it much thought. It wasn’t something I could just ignore, but I decided to wait to talk to him about it until Lynn had gone home for the day.
He was at his desk, looking something up on the computer. The door was open, but I knocked anyway.
He looked up. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Not much. There’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“Okay,” he said. “Shoot.”