“Radio silence, what was that about? I thought we were good and then I thought I’d done something to fuck up, and I couldn’t work out what it was.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. But this is—”
She was going to say they were wrong. “This is whatever we want it to be.” She nodded. He blew out a breath. “Your call, Mena.”
“I am out of my mind. You don’t need pants either,” she said, and she was on him before he had time to be impressed, stepping into him, hands to his chest, lips to his collarbone.
He got a handful of that dress and lifted it up her body and then over her head, taking her sunglasses with it, then there was skin and more of that sexy lingerie, only this time, no hosiery and more Mena between the bottom edge of a bra that lifted her breasts high, and the silky stuff of her undies.
He tossed the dress and her glasses on a side table. They hadn’t made it out of his entrance way. “Any rules I need to know about here?”
She unbuttoned his lucky jeans, toyed with the zipper and he lost the capacity to hear over the thudding of his heart. All his sensory powers went to his dick, which was rigid to the touch of her palm through the denim, hard enough to split the zip.
She was going to get that tour in a minute, a lightning fast one to the nearest flat surface, because he needed to feel the weight of Mena’s body over his to wipe out the fear that he’d lost a very good thing before he had a chance to make it his, like a long time ago.
“Later, we’re going to talk about the weather and ice-cream flavors and who you like to listen to, what you like to watch.”
Bad move that, she took her hand away from the scene of the crime and cupped his cheek. “Later, we can do whatever you like.”
He drew a few musical notes over the tops of her breasts with his fingertip. “I missed you.” He was ridiculously pleased she was here. Felt it all the way to his toes.
“It’s only been a day.”
It might’ve been years; his radar was all squiffy around Mena, like a whale driven to beach itself. He was heartbeats off lying on the floor at her feet. She didn’t sound surprised. She sounded smug, like she’d guessed it. He drew the band out of her hair and took a handful of it. “Didn’t know there was an acceptable time limit for missing someone.”
She pulled on his neck, so they were mouth to mouth. “You are impossibly sweet.”
“That’s a fucking lie.” He used the other hand to grab her lovely arse. “I want to do rude things to you.”
“I want you to do rude things to me. I want to do them right back.”
Rules established. That’s what they were doing here then. He backed her into the next room towards the big sectional sofa and then changed his mind and took her hand and led her upstairs to his bedroom. Mindless lust was fun, and he’d had a lot of that in his life and intended to again, but there was something new and thrilling about being with Mena that made him want the luxury of comfort too.
No sharp edges or rough fabrics, no awkward angles or bruising contact, nothing too cold or hot or sticky, or inclined to make you move away from each other too soon. No distractions, just Mena and the things he could do to make her feel good.
For right now at least. Because he did intend to take her draped over the hard, cold lid of his piano, and mess around with her wet and steamy in the hot tub.
They made it to the bed in a stumbling arrangement of entwined limbs, kisses and laughter. And then it got serious. That zipper came down. Mena’s bra came off to show her glittering nipples. She did very nice things with her hand on his cock and she looked gorgeous doing them. When he couldn’t take her teasing anymore, he flipped her to her back and got those silky knickers off her. They were damp. Fucking excellent. He tucked them in his back pocket. They were his now. She had no further need for them.
He got her to moan and gasp with his fingers. He made her come with tongue and his lips and then finally his jeans and his briefs came off and the paradise of Mena’s vagina opened to him, hot and soft and slick and close.
She was all the fires of the revolution and all the bumblebees in the hive and he played her body into a thrashing frenzy of pleasure edging on the threshold of pain, and when she fell apart beneath him, he dissolved in her, made of little but sinew and sweat.
The rest of him, those remaining brain cells still flickering, were flashing out distress signals while his heart thudded with hope. This was a big deal.
All the confusion and doubt of the last twenty-four hours lifted away, and in its place, settled a certainty that felt strong. He’d learn Mena. He’d figure out how to make her happy, naked and clothed, and keep doing that for as long as she’d tolerate him.
This could be his life.
Later.
Now he cuddled her while their breathing settled, and their bones reformed, and he watched for the glow of all of this to show in her face.
He traced a finger down
