Listen to Me (Fusion 1)

“So goddamn amazing,” he growls and pushes twice more before stopping, balls deep, and comes hard, groaning in my ear.

We are an exhausted, panting, sweaty mess as he rolls away, but he keeps me with him, still inside me, pulling me on top of him.

“I’m too heavy to stay on top of you, and I want to stay inside you,” he says and hugs me tight. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I frown up at him.

“I’m inside you. And I’m grateful.”

I smile and kiss his chin, then push up against his chest so I can kiss his lips thoroughly. I can’t help but circle my hips at the same time, and smile widely as I feel him begin to stiffen inside me again.

“Round two,” I mutter and slide back and forth. He grips my hips tightly in his hands, most likely leaving little fingertip-size bruises, and that makes me almost giddy.

I can’t wait to see them later.

“You have a naughty smile on that gorgeous face,” he says, then moans when I reach down and circle my clit as I ride him.

“I’m a naughty girl,” I reply before biting my lip.

“So noted.”

Chapter Eight

Jake

I reach for her, but where she should be tucked up against me is cold. She’s been out of bed for a while, thwarting my intentions to fuck her into the mattress this morning.

Which is fine. I’ll just find her and carry her back here. I lie still and listen, hoping to hear her in the shower. Some playtime in the water could also be fun, but the condo is quiet.

And then it occurs to me: I smell food.

She’s making breakfast.

I’m going to marry her. Today.

I slide from the bed and pull on my boxer briefs, then pad out of the bedroom to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

And then I come to a complete stop, staring in wonder at the gorgeous woman in the kitchen. Her back is to me. She’s piled her hair on top of her head, with messy, loose tendrils falling out of it. She’s in my T-shirt from last night, which hangs only low enough to cover the majority of her ass, but the very bottom of it where her ass and thighs meet, and her black panties, show, making my morning semi an official hard-on.

She’s swaying her hips side to side as she mixes something in a bowl. A waffle iron is set up next to her, heating.

And she’s humming.

Completely off-key.

God, she’s adorable.

She turns toward the sink that sits in the island separating us, her lip sunk between her perfect teeth, then yelps when she sees me standing here.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” I say quietly, all of my emotions suddenly a jumbled mess. Her face is clean of any makeup, that blond hair a halo around her face. My T-shirt looks amazing on her.

And she’s cooking for me. I don’t remember a woman I’ve been intimate with ever cooking for me. Certainly not breakfast, because I’m sure to rush out as soon as I can. But seeing this woman, cooking for me, makes my heart ache in the sweetest way.

God, I’ve become such a softie. Max would have a field day if he heard my thoughts.

“It’s okay, I was deep in thought.” She sighs, washes her hands, and offers me a sweet smile. “I hope you’re hungry ’cause I’m making waffles.”

“I’m starving.” For you. I want her under me, over me, any way I can get her right now, as long as I’m inside her.

But I sit on a stool at the breakfast bar and watch her bustle about the kitchen.

“Bacon too?” I ask in surprise as she lays strips of the meat on a cookie sheet.

“Of course. Isn’t it illegal to have breakfast without bacon?”

“Watch out, you’ll make me feel special.”

She snorts and shakes her head, returning to her bowl of waffle mix.

“What time do you have to work today?” I ask.

“I’ve been trying to take Sundays off. I have an idea!” She spins, her blue eyes round with excitement. “Let’s stay in bed all day and trade sexual favors for trips to the fridge.”

My lips tilt up into a smile. “That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in years. But, I can’t. I have to work today.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders sag as her lower lip sticks out in a cute pout, then she turns to pour mix into the waffle iron.

“I’d like to bring you with me.”

“What?” She leans her hips against the counter and crosses her arms. “Where? To work?”

I nod.

“I’ll just be in the way.”

“No you won’t.”

“What will you be doing?” She tilts her head to the side, and I want to bury my face in her neck and kiss her there.

“Max and I have some work to finish up today,” I reply, purposefully evading. I don’t want to tell her who will be in the studio with us today. She might get nervous and decide she doesn’t want to go.

And for reasons I’m not entirely sure of right now, I don’t just want her there today. I need her.

“I want to show you my studio.”

A naughty, slow grin spreads over her face. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

I smirk and let my eyes noticeably travel up and down her body, fucking her with my eyes. When my gaze finds hers again, she’s breathing harder, and her right hand is white-knuckled on the granite. Her eyes are a little glassy.

I want her. The several bouts of lovemaking through the night did nothing to assuage that.

But I also want to show her my life. Because I have a feeling she’s about to become a very big part of it, and as new and confusing as that is, it also feels really good.