Cut to the Chase (19 page)

M
ia's nightmare had come true. The one where the boy meets the girl, likes the girl, is attracted to the girl, just to discover that she isn't what he had expected, or had hoped for. Paul had been respectful, showing genuine concern, but not even the stone-faced lawyer could mask his disappointment when she confirmed that she was a virgin.

But it wasn't that flicker of surprise he had allowed to escape at her admission that bothered Mia the most. What absolutely killed her was how he behaved afterward over dinner. Absent were the typical heated stares, the sexual tension and angst-filled moments. He had never tried to touch her or brush against her as they washed dishes together. Instead, Paul had been a perfect gentleman and when the clock struck ten, he had kissed her on the forehead and practically dismissed her to bed…alone.

Midnight was slowly approaching and she was no closer to sleep then when she first threw herself and her pride under the covers to hide in shame. She tossed and turned, wondering how the hell she was going to move on from this. Surely the embarrassment would fade over time, especially if he was out of her life.

Mia tore back the covers and walked herself over to the adjoining bathroom. Feeling restless, she washed her face and brushed her teeth for the second time since she had retired for the evening and returned to bed. Go to sleep, Mia. Just close your eyes and don't think about, or visualize, the man sleeping down the hall.

But as she attempted to obey her own directive, Mia heard that tortured scream flooding the apartment. She ran out into the hallway and followed the sound of his voice, his raw pain. As quickly as the yelling began, it ceased, and she wondered if she should go into his bedroom to check on him. She hesitated, turned the doorknob, stopped for a moment, turned it again, and then whispered to herself, “Screw it.”

Mia entered the room to discover his bed empty and the balcony door open. White curtains whipped about, exposing only slivers of the man on the balcony. His back was to her and if she was very quiet, she could turn around and escape unnoticed. But something stopped her from making that wise decision and instead, she just stood there, as if she were glued to the wood planks beneath her bare feet. She wanted a better look, needed to see his face for just a moment, to ensure that he was okay and no longer under his nightmare's unruly grasp. Miraculously, her feet broke free of their frozen state and she took a few steps forward.

With his hands on the railing, Paul was gazing at the sky, the look in his eyes suggesting that he was a million miles away. Just a little closer, she told herself. Mia took a few more steps, close enough to feel the tip of the cotton curtains glide across her legs. The gentle caress distracted her momentarily and when she looked up, Paul was staring at her with such intensity she felt her breath escape her.

“I'm sorry I woke you,” he said. His eyes roamed to every part of her body and she suddenly felt exposed and very wanted.

“I…I wanted to make sure you were…okay,” she said, stumbling for words.

“I'll be fine,” he said turning around and making his way back to the railing.

No. He wasn't going to do that again. Just dismiss her…assume that she could just turn her emotions on and off like he apparently could do and do well. What did she have to lose? Nothing. Her pride had already taken a catastrophic hit and she had no secrets left to hide. “I'm asking you, now,” she said.

He stopped midstride, but didn't turn around. That got his attention.

“But I don't want you to tell me how you feel.” Mia felt her confidence build and she took yet another step forward and said, “I want you to show me.”

Paul turned and closed the gap between them. His hands grabbed the sides of her face and he sealed his mouth over her waiting lips. He groaned as his hot, demanding tongue mingled with hers. Mia wrapped her arms around his neck and ground her body against his. His erection was easily discernable through her mesh shorts, and she moaned in anticipation.

“God, I want you,” he said. Paul lifted her t-shirt, actually his t-shirt, over her head, exposing her full breasts. “You're so beautiful,” he said staring at her hungrily.

“Tonight, I'm yours,” she said.

He picked her up and carried her to the bed. He undressed completely and then rid her body of those very unattractive shorts. Paul tucked her beneath his rock-hard body and propped himself on his elbows. He took her face in his hands and said, “We will never be just one night, Mia.”

Mia looked into his eyes and knew he wasn't kidding. The lust wasn't talking, it was him. And he wanted her tonight, maybe even every night. He kissed her slowly at first and then it grew heavy and passionate. She felt his hand slide to her breast and then to her left nipple. He flicked the tight peak between his fingers as he continued kissing her. She arched her back and felt his arousal positioned at her entrance. Mia wanted, needed, the friction against her aching clit.

“Not yet, Mia. You're not ready,” he said.

Paul bowed his head and took a nipple in his mouth. He continued to knead her other nipple with his experienced fingers and she panted with desire. Paul released her breast and slipped even lower, right beneath her belly button.

Oh God, was he going to…

“Oh Paul!” she screamed at the first touch of his tongue against her slick folds. She knew she was dripping wet, her body ready and needy. He stroked her clit in a rhythm that was not meant to tease, but bring her absolute pleasure. She gripped the sheets beneath her and begged him for more. Mia felt a fingertip enter and she clenched her body.

“You're so tight, so beautiful,” he said. He gently pressed the tip of his finger forward. Her climax was already mounting when she felt him add another finger. Her orgasm took hold as she thrashed beneath him and screamed his name.

“Please, I need you now,” she said, as her orgasm subsided only slightly.

Groaning, he crawled toward her, positioning his cock at her entrance. He kissed her softly and then slowly she felt him enter. He was gentle, pushing in just one inch at a time. The burning sensation lasted for but a moment before transforming to a feeling of fullness.

“You feel so good, Mia,” he said, his voice strained. Mia imagined that he was most likely holding back, in fear of hurting her. “Are you all right? Can you take more?”

More? How much more was there?

“Yes,” she said, breathless. She wanted all of him.

He thrust deeper, and that feeling of fullness turned into indescribable pleasure. Mia spread her legs farther apart in order to accommodate him and she finally felt him exhale. Paul began to glide in and out of her in slow, deep strokes.

“My God, Mia, you were made for me,” he said. The declaration made her want to weep.

Mia could tell he was still being cautious and if he was going to truly let go, she was going to have to give him an explicit signal. “I can take more…give me more.”

Complying, he wrapped her left leg around his shoulder and slammed into her. The forceful thrust touched every inch of her and she whimpered at the mind-blowing sensation.

“Mia!” he screamed, plunging into her one last time. She shook as her tight channel clenched around him, making him spill every drop deep inside her. The thought of him filling her with his heat made her feel claimed…and every bit his.

She pulled him close and held him to her breasts until his heartbeat returned to normal. There was so much she wanted to say. Feelings she wanted to share, but couldn't, not yet anyway. Instead, they lay in silence, which only made their already-intimate moment intensify, suggesting that their union was much more than a physical one.

P
aul eventually pulled out of her and lay at her side. She let out a small whimper, as the void his action caused left her needy and immediately craving to regain that intimacy the next chance she got.

Mia saw him glance down at himself and then look at her with such fear she believed him to be in serious pain. “How bad did I hurt you, Mia?” he asked, his voice on the verge of panic.

Mia didn't have a chance to respond because he tore back the white sheet, exposing what had invoked the troublesome expression on his face. Bright red blood marked the once-pristine sheets and she cringed at the sight. “I ruined your sheets. I'm sorry, Paul.”

Paul looked like he was going to blow a gasket. “I'm not concerned about my sheets, Mia. What I care about is you and the obvious fact that I caused you pain…that I wasn't gentle enough.”

He couldn't have been more wrong. Not that she had anything to compare to, but she couldn't imagine a more gentle or generous lover than Paul. “You didn't hurt me. I might be a little sore, but that's to be expected, right?” she asked, reaching for him. Although Paul allowed her to caress his cheek, she could tell he wasn't completely satisfied with her response.

“I had every intention of taking things slow, especially after you told me you've never been with anyone before.” He covered her hand with his. “But I lose myself when I'm with you, so much so that I didn't even think about using protection. I have never been with a woman without using a condom…until you.”

There was no way she was going to lay blame. She hadn't cared in the moment and she didn't care now. “Paul, I trust you. I know you would never have put me at risk.” Mia kissed him, hoping to smooth out a few of those worry lines that sprung up on his forehead. “I want to believe that I would have prevented us from going further than a kiss, if I knew that I wasn't on the pill. But in that moment, feeling you slide into me with nothing between us, I highly doubt I would have been able to stop.”

The worry lines were less pronounced, but still evident, as if he was still uneasy. “Paul, everything is all right. I've been on the pill since I was fifteen for medical reasons,” she said.

“You still have no idea what you do to me. Do you?” he asked, his voice serious and dark.

Mia didn't know what to say or what could make him look at her with such heat. Luckily, he wasn't fishing for an answer, because he continued and said, “Rational thought goes out the window when I'm with you and all I can think of is making you mine.”

His admission was primal and domineering…and she loved him for it. She was just about to spill her soul, when he scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom.

“I don't like to see you uncomfortable or sore. Let me take care of you,” he said. His face softened and she could tell he wanted to table the conversation. If letting him run a bath for her while he doused her back with white puffy suds made his anxiety dissipate, then she was more than willing to participate. Telling him that she was falling in love with him, that she had been
his
, at least in her mind, since the day they met, would just have to wait.

S
cott was way out of his element.

Everything his date did, the way she ate, the way she curled her mousy brown hair around her finger, the way she…existed irritated him. But no matter how much he detested her company, Scott knew Plain Jane the librarian served an important purpose.

Scott made certain to sustain visibility at all times. He had made reservations for two at La Mer, one of the best French restaurants in the city, and insisted they sit in one of the two tables by the expansive front window. Scott laughed at her absurd stories, reached for and squeezed her hand when she grew shy, and drew her chair closer to him as the night dragged on. The only highlight was the food. Presented in small, elegant portions, it was difficult to overindulge and feel like a complete glutton. A crisp white tablecloth and clean silverware also kept him satisfied.

Just a few more dates and he could put himself out of such misery. Maybe tomorrow night he would take her to a movie, where talking would be severely limited, followed by a drink at a noisy club. On the third and final date, the night he absolutely dreaded, Scott would propose to stay in, preferably at her place, and take in a movie. He would have to kiss her, maybe even snuggle a bit, to make her go to bat for him if the time came. If she was ever confronted and asked just what kind of guy Scott Morris was, she would have no choice but to paint the nauseating picture of what a respectful gentleman he was, how he had held her hand while they strolled to dinner, or enveloped her in his arms when she jumped at the horror movie they rented, how he had taken things slow, never pressuring her for more than a closed-mouth kiss.

Scott and Plain Jane finished dinner and moved on to dessert and coffee. As she savored each bite of the crème brûlée, Scott took the opportunity to glance out the window. And that was when Scott saw him and confirmed that his faculties were still firmly intact. He wasn't being paranoid. The same man who had bristled past him in the library was sitting across the street at some outdoor café sipping from a white mug.

Scott immediately put his attention back on Plain Jane and smiled. She had remnants of the sweet treat on her upper lip and he inwardly shuddered with disgust. But instead of throwing her a napkin and insisting that she clean her filthy mouth, he reached up and wiped the custard away with the pad of his thumb. Plain Jane blushed, which made her appear blotchy. Scott forced a smile, praying that the person across the street had just witnessed that stomach-churning display of affection.

P
aul awoke the next morning in the same position that he had fallen asleep in, with Mia tucked into his arms, the alluring scent of her hair drawing him in. She stirred slightly, which only made his hard-on ache with desire. Naked, soft curves nestled even closer and he fought the urge not to take her again right there.

But he knew that her body needed time to recuperate. He hated the fact that he had caused her pain, but it also made him feel manly in a prehistoric way, and honored that she had chosen him to be the first man she had given herself to.

Exploring her body, finding more ways to give her pleasure, would have to wait, but hopefully not for too long. Now that he had been given a taste of what each night could bring, there was no way he could be without her. Since making love was out of the question this morning, he decided to shower and then cook her a hearty breakfast before work. Carefully, he untangled their legs and shuffled out of bed. She rolled onto her back, which only made his cock throb. Her beautiful breasts lay exposed and unbound just above the white sheet. With her dark hair splayed haphazardly across the pillow, Mia looked like a very sated woman.

Thankful that he had woken up extra-early today, Paul took the time to enjoy a long, hot shower. He stood beneath the pulsating shower head and closed his eyes and thought about the woman who was sound asleep in the very next room. There had been women, many unfortunately, whom he had shared his bed with over the years. But he had never made love to a woman until last night. She was his match in every way…his love.

Thinking of Mia always caused his body to respond in ways that were completely out of his control. He ached to be with her, as his painful erection indicated. Paul heard the bathroom door open and in walked his very naked girl. She was staring at his cock with the same hunger he had detected the night she had walked in on him in her own bathroom. That night he had never felt such lust in his life, and it had taken everything he had not to swing the shower door open, drag her into the glass-enclosed space and take her against the cool tile. But now he was grateful that he had not acted on his animal instincts. She deserved to have a memorable first time, where he could take it slow, kiss every inch of her and pleasure her over and over again.

Mia smiled and joined him in the shower. She closed the glass door behind her and with her back to him, and he tucked her into his arms. She sighed as the warm droplets saturated her perfect skin. “Good morning,” she purred.

“Did I wake you?” he asked.

“No, I'm just an early riser.” She turned and brushed his lips with hers. Her fingertips scurried across his chest, making every drop of blood in his body rush to his twitching cock. “Do you remember when I walked in on you while you were showering at my house?” she asked, her voice throaty and sexy as hell.

Did he remember? God, if she knew just how close he had been that night to claiming her as his. “Yes, not something I'll ever forget,” he said.

“There was something I wanted…to do,” she said, her fingers travelling southbound.

She stood on her tippy-toes and kissed him softly at first. But as her fingers reached the space just above the head of his cock, the kiss became more demanding, and she opened her mouth to welcome his tongue. The woman knew how to kiss, nipping at his bottom lip to keep him wanting so much more. Suddenly, she broke away and stepped back. The fire in her eyes was unlike anything he had ever seen. “I wanted to taste you,” she said, sinking to her knees.

“Mia, you don't have to…Ah God,” he moaned as she took his cock in her hands.

She stared up at him and said, “I want you to tell me.” Her soft pink tongue slipped past her teeth and stroked the underside of his cock, causing his body to quake. “And show me what you like.” She lapped at the glistening head. Another jolt. “Because I've never done this before.”

Was she kidding? The way she was hitting every sensitive spot, licking the pre-cum away from the head as it generously flowed forth, she could have fooled him. He loved knowing that this too was a first for her, that she wanted to give him pleasure with her wet, silky mouth.

“Just like that, Mia,” he said. He reached in front of him and with one hand on the shower tile, he steadied himself before his legs could buckle.

She cupped one hand around his balls and then stroked his shaft into her hot mouth. Not wanting to choke her, he refrained from doing what his body craved—which was to slam into her mouth and come down her throat—and rocked into her slowly. But just like last night, she must have caught on that he was holding back, trying to take it easy on her, because she reached around, grabbed his ass, and took him hard and deep.

While she was staring up at him, her mouth full of his cock, he growled and with his other hand, he reached for the back of her head. She moaned while she sucked and lapped at him, bringing him into her heat. “Mia,” he groaned, as he pummeled her mouth.

He spread his legs wider and took in the erotic scene with awe. She was on her knees, with her hair dripping wet, and his cock was gliding in and out of her. He felt his orgasm mount. “Christ, Mia…I'm going to come, baby,” he yelled. He tried to withdraw and spill his seed somewhere other than in her mouth, in order not to overwhelm her the very first time, but it only made her hands lock onto his ass and he came so hard, with such force, that he feared she wouldn't be able to take it all.

Her eyes widened and then he saw her swallow. With every drop expelled, he stood her up and brushed her swollen lips with his thumb. “This mouth,” he said. With hooded eyelids and a sheepish smile, she looked satisfied.

But not as satisfied as she could be. He reached down and gently stroked her slick folds with two fingers. “I know you're sore,” he said. She moaned. “I'll take care of you. I'll always take care of you.” He got down on his knees and replaced his fingers with his tongue and lapped at her clit. Careful not to pierce her tender entrance, he gave all his attention to the taut nub between her thighs.

She grabbed his head, pressed her clit against his ravenous tongue and rocked harder. “Oh, God…Paul!” she screamed.

“Let me have you,” he said, spreading her folds even farther apart. He licked her vigorously and she exploded around him with his name on her sweet and most generous lips.