I loved my life.
Every aspect of it was what I wanted.
Yet, there I was, wanting to know every last thing about this girl who’d just kneed me in the balls.
I reached across the sofa and started to lightly skim her thigh. My mind was running wild with all the emotions she was stirring inside of me. Sentiments I wasn’t used to and had no idea how to deal with. Sage was fucking me up. The worst part, I didn’t care that my face wasn’t currently buried in between her legs, making her scream my name.
I liked having her here. In my home. With me.
What the fuck?
The balcony door was open, and a light breeze was blowing the curtains, giving a romantic allure all around us. I couldn’t help myself, not with her. I gripped onto her wrist, catching her off guard, and tugged her toward me.
She gasped, and her hand immediately pressed against my muscular chest, causing heat to soar through my body, starting from my head down to my toes.
Her scent.
Her hair.
Her soft skin.
It all did something to me in a way I'd never experienced before. My mouth collided with hers, slowly at first.
Her lips were as smooth as I remembered.
She tasted exactly how I recalled.
Trouble.
My lips parted, beckoning her to do the same. She followed my lead, softly caressing the tip of my tongue with hers. Our mouths moved against one another as if they were destined to meet and come together again.
A chance.
A circumstance.
Kismet.
I slowly kissed her, trying to simmer down the unexpected movements of our emotional connection. Resting my forehead on hers, I stared openly into her confused gaze.
Over the years, I’d learned a lot about women. Their mannerisms, their expressions, the way I made them feel. Sage felt everything I was, and it frightened her in the same way it did me.
“Tell me you felt that…” I rasped, needing to hear her say it.
“Yes,” she breathed out, mimicking my tone.
This was too fast.
Too soon.
So I did the only thing I could think of—I lied, “As much as I would love to hit a home run with you tonight, I don’t think my balls are up to bat.”
I wanted to talk to her, listen to her voice, get to know her.
Basically…
I. Was. Fucked.
—Sage—
My cheeks flushed, and my belly fluttered. If there was one thing I'd learned about Ashton from the very beginning, it was he spoke his mind anytime he opened his mouth. He never held back, and in the little time we knew each other, it was one of the things I liked the most about him. He seemed as genuine as they could come, and I hadn’t met a lot of honest people in my life. Especially when it came to dating random men who were always trying to prove something or another.
It was refreshing.
He was my breath of fresh air.
Which was yet another reason I needed to stay away from him.
I could really fall for this man.
I was a mom, to twins. He had no idea what he was in for with me, and I didn’t want to tell him. This was supposed to be a fling—nothing more, nothing less.
I smiled. “I thought all guys could—”
“Do me a favor, Sage. Don’t think about other guys when you’re with me.”
I rolled my eyes, but I still found myself smiling. His eyes bore into mine and once again rendered me speechless. He stared at me with that same swagger and confidence he’d exuded all night. Which was another thing I liked about him, the way he looked at me.
There was something about him, since the first time I laid my eyes on him, that I couldn’t tear my gaze away from. This magnetic pull I was instantly drawn to.
It came from something deeper.
More meaningful.
A connection I couldn’t explain, growing stronger with each minute that passed between us. I knew he felt it; he was the type of guy who would notice everything. Neither one of us said a word for a couple of seconds, but it didn’t matter. Our eyes spoke volumes, causing the nervous feeling in my core to subside.
“Tell me about yourself, Sage.”
My heart dropped. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“You say that like you mean it.”
“I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”
I ignored his response, asking, “What do you want to know?”
“I mean, you don’t have to tell me your blood type, but I do want to know if you’re a psycho and I need to be worried that I let you into my house. You can never be too careful. My mom tells me so.”
“Your mom, huh?”
He cheekily grinned, arching an eyebrow. “I’m a proud certified mama’s boy.”
The fact that he admitted that to me was enough for me to orgasm without him even touching me. I was the mother of a little boy; I was a woman raising a man, and if my son ever said that about me, I’d know I did something right.