She let out a little cry and her head flung back. Her neck was exposed and her eyes were closed.
“Look at me, Mara.” Who knew why it was so important, but it was. She needed to know who she was with. That was it. The connection.
Her pace increased, she grew wetter, easing the blow to my ego.
“I can’t—” she panted. “This is—” Her lids shut and her fingernails dug in as her climax hit.
Her mouth dropped open and I waited for her to yell Sam but it never came. She hollered her orgasm and I gritted my teeth against mine.
The episode affected me. First, the unusual way she’d acted tonight, then the frantic ride. I wrapped her up in an embrace and spun her to the floor with me on top.
Her eyes flew open with a gasp, but I’d already claimed her mouth.
Murmuring against her lips, I said, “Now it’s my turn.”
I pumped and she responded, sluggishly at first, probably due to her recent orgasm and the change of position.
I broke away from our kiss to hitch her legs up. She’d used me and I’d told her to, but my male side needed to dominate.
Her hands dropped back behind her head. That shirt. I growled and yanked it up to expose her breasts. The bra was in the way, but not for long. Freeing her breasts, I gave in and lapped at one nipple, then the other.
Mara moaned and writhed under me. I couldn’t hold back a smug smile. She was unable to control herself and I made sure of it.
Her walls started to quake around me and I finally broke down the dam holding back my orgasm. Slamming once, twice more, my balls tightened and I thrust one last time before bowing back.
“Mara!” My buttocks tightened and I shook my release into her.
Like before, her orgasm was on the quiet side. She didn’t yell my name like she normally did, and if I were honest, it was a relief not to hear the wrong name while the girl I fucked came all over me.
Her lids were half open and she lazily watched me, but there was a hint of caution in the depths of her gaze. She was usually so open with her feelings, I hated closed-off Mara.
I released her legs and they collapsed to the floor.
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong yet?”
She tilted her head and the halo of pink-dyed hair shifted, too. “What makes you think there’s something wrong?”
Her tone also asked, why do you care? And I didn’t. I cursed to myself. Then why did I keep asking?
She was spread out under me, not completely naked, but all her beautiful anatomy was revealed.
I kissed each breast and she tensed like she was going to get up, but I continued kissing my way down.
Again, she didn’t say anything but widened her legs to allow me room to bury my face in her well-sexed flesh. Another orgasm might get her talking.
Chapter 13
Mara
I stared at the ceiling, having woken up first. Sam had stayed over.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Wes. Would I ever get used to it? Wes Robson was in my bed. One thing was for sure. I could fantasize laughing in his receptionist’s face. He could’ve been in all the meetings in the world, but I’d still been able to talk to him after all. With no clothes on.
I turned to the slumbering man.
Wesley Robson. In my bed.
Was this like sleeping with the enemy?
I’d known who he was last night and I’d gone along with it. I felt dirty and guilty, and guilty for not feeling dirty because I didn’t. Sex with Wes was too wonderful to feel ashamed for seeking my release with him.
With my history, I should be in the tub, scrubbing his taste out of my mouth. But he wasn’t Dr. Johannsen, either. My esteemed professor had been attractive enough, but not the male specimen Wes was. Nor as good in bed.
Not that I’d wanted to be in bed with my professor, but the man had been smart and I’d been gullible and desperate.
I think I can see a way to help you improve your grade.
Stupid.
And this wasn’t?
I peered at Wes again. No, because I knew what I was doing this time. My eyes were wide open.
He adjusted his position and reached for me. There went my damn heart. He wasn’t able to fake fooling me in his sleep.
His dark hair was mussed and not just from being in bed. When I’d first seen him, I’d compared him to a superhero. How disappointing.
Joe mentioned people like Wes didn’t always have healthy relationships.
I frowned and skimmed my fingers across his cheek. Was I really going to analyze him, after all his deception? Yeah, I was. He’d said his dad had passed away and I of all people had heard from the real Sam all of his regrets about how he had treated Wes. Then there was Wes’s mom. Geez, she’d sounded unreal. Like a cartoon stereotype of the wicked ex-wife. And she’d raised Wes.
I turned fully on my side to face him. What if I didn’t play him in return, but tried to show him the other side of life? Real relationships that weren’t driven by greed? My relationship with my mom was real. My friendship with Sam had been legit, and nothing more than platonic. Ephraim and Joe had families to go home to, but Sam hadn’t had anyone. Feeling like he’d lost Wes, he had thrown his love into the comic book shop. To keep those memories alive.
Wes’s eyelids fluttered before those startling blues met mine. His lips tilted in a sleepy smile as he rolled onto his back to stretch.
“I usually visit my mom on Sundays.”
He smirked
