Well Matched (Well Met #3)(36)

“CrossFit, babe.” His voice shook a little and he stole another quick kiss. “It works everything.”

“Everything, huh?” I cast around for some kind of innuendo, but with him hard against me like this, the time for innuendo had passed. Innuendo was meant to lead to something, and we were already there.

“Good thing too. Five years of solo orgasms . . . I feel like I have some work to do here.” He sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, and now I straddled his lap. His lap was a great place to be, and I squirmed, getting a little more comfortable, making my blood a little hotter. His too, from the way he hissed in a breath as I moved against him. He leaned in to kiss me again, his mouth devouring, claiming, and his hands went to the front of my shirt, unbuttoning with nimble fingers. No piece of battery-operated silicone could compare to the backs of his fingers skimming the sensitive skin between my breasts. He pushed my blouse off my shoulders, and I tugged at his shirt until he helped me pull it over his head.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me.” My turn to let my hands wander, over those broad shoulders, down the curve of his biceps, and up again. “I’ve got a pretty nice collection in that drawer. Different textures, sizes. Some are waterproof . . .” I cupped his jaw in both hands, stealing another kiss, then trailed my fingers down the line of his sternum, all that solid muscle under warm skin. I lost the thread of what I was saying, because damn, there wasn’t anything in my bedside drawer that could replicate the feel of his skin under my fingertips. I let my mouth follow my hands, relishing the gasp he made when I licked my way back up his chest to his throat. “Some are rechargeable.” I leaned in to whisper in his ear, indulging in a nibble on his earlobe as I did so. “And one has attachments.”

He choked out a laugh, fisting his hands in my hair, holding me to him as I took my time with his throat. “Listen, there’s nothing wrong with, um, attachments or whatever. But there’s something to be said for the real thing.” He popped the button on my jeans, and I sucked in a breath as one hand slipped in, down. I wanted to reach for him, unbuckle his belt, but all I could do was cling to him and tremble as he stroked me with a featherlight touch. “See?” His voice was a low rumble in my ear, his teeth closing gently on my earlobe. I rocked up, my fingernails digging into his shoulders, giving him more and better access. He knew what he was doing; it only took a few strokes for an orgasm to flash through me, quick and sudden and intense as summer lightning. I wasn’t prepared, so all I could do was cling to him and shudder, any sound I might have made canceled out by the breath I sucked in.

“Jesus.” I fought to regain both my breath and control of my body as he eased his hand out of my jeans. “I guess it has been a while. I don’t usually—”

“That was nothing.” He reached around, unsnapping my bra with practiced fingers. “Letting off steam. You needed it. Five years. What the fuck.” He shook his head. “What the hell is wrong with the men in our town.”

“I’m a single mom,” I reminded him. “Men aren’t exactly . . . lining up . . .” I forgot how to speak as my bra fluttered to the floor and he took my breasts in his hands. My nipples tightened fast, almost painfully, against the pads of his thumbs as he stroked in slow, maddening circles. Oh, the hell with it. Who needed talking right now? The quick orgasm had cleared my mind, so while his large hands moved to map the curve of my waist and the swell of my hip, I got to work on his belt, getting that buckle the hell out of my way so I could unbutton his jeans. Then the worst thought swept through me, chilling everything.

“Wait.” I put my hands over his where they now lay on my hips, anchoring me to him. “Protection. I don’t have . . . I’m not on . . .” I hadn’t needed to think about birth control in years; I was out of practice here. Regret dashed cold water over the fire he’d stoked in me, which was a shame, because damn, was he good at this.

“It’s okay.” His mouth was busy on my neck as he spoke, not missing a beat. “I’ve got some. In my bag. In the bathroom.”

“But that’s so far away.” I couldn’t believe how annoyed I sounded despite the relief that coursed through me. But now that this was really happening, getting condoms out of the bathroom meant there’d be a minute or so that his hands wouldn’t be on me, and that was, frankly, bullshit.

“Don’t worry.” He lay back in the bed, taking me with him, his arms closing around me like I was all he wanted in the world. “I’m not gonna need ’em for a while.” He pulled the tie out of my already loosened hair and spread it over my shoulders so the ends of it brushed across his skin.

“But you already made me . . . I mean, I already . . .” I used to be better at talking than this. But it didn’t seem important as he rolled me under him, his hands and mouth everywhere.

“I told you, that was nothing. We’re just getting started here.” He lifted his head to catch my eyes, and his crooked, slightly cocky smile reminded me that I was in bed with Kilty. The endless innuendo machine that I spent most of my time rolling my eyes at. Years of snark had led us here and now I was under him with my jeans open. With his jeans open. Holy shit, how did we get here?

But all I could do now was smile up at him. “Promise?” I wasn’t sure what I was asking for. For this to be the beginning of what could be the best night of my life, or for this to be the start of something more?