Do You Take This Man (36)
I slid his zipper down and reached into his pants, palming him skin to skin, loving the heat of him. “I’m not wearing any.”
“You came prepared.” His breath hitched as I stroked him, and he nudged me backward until my back hit the edge of a small table. “Did you plan this?”
“I plan everything. Do you want to talk or make the most of the next eleven minutes?”
He had me perched on the edge of the table in seconds, and I pushed my underwear down as he pulled a condom from his wallet. I had to give him credit for bending to my time limit. I wasn’t even sure why I’d pulled that number out. I had work to do, lots of it, but I’d never put a time limit on sex. I watched Lear roll the condom down his length, squeezing it in his broad fist and letting his pants fall down his thighs. The rush was kind of hot. “Nine minutes and thirty seconds,” he said, moving between my thighs. I thought he’d push in—I wanted him to, to take me to the edge, hard and fast, but he teased me instead, moving his length up and down my sensitive flesh. “There’s so many other places I want to touch you,” he said into my neck, still teasing me. “I want more time in the future, time to find out how you like it.”
I stifled a whimper at the way his words skated over my skin. I would not whimper with him. Instead, I grazed my fingers over his shoulder. “Let’s see how you do with fifteen minutes and then I’ll decide if I’m open to negotiation.”
“Eight minutes more,” he said, ignoring my reaching for him.
“Stop making me wait.” I inched forward, trying to guide him to where I wanted.
“RJ.” He ghosted a hand over my breast, palm barely grazing the nipple though the thin fabric of my shirt. “You have a lot of rules.”
“And?” I wanted more of his hand there, even though it would wrinkle the top.
Finally, blessedly, he slid into me, filling me, slow at first, pushing in and then pulling back out, but picking up speed, developing a hurried rhythm. “I have a rule, too.”
My breath came in hitches as he pumped into me, finding the right angle, and I leaned back on the desk until he hit me just where I needed. “What’s your rule?”
He settled his fingers over mine and guided my hand to his shoulder, the weight of his hand an odd mix of comfort and anticipation. “You finish first. Six minutes left, RJ.”
I rolled my head back, and he nudged my fingers away and began making slow circles over my swollen, pulsing bundle of nerves. My body heated and my thighs shook. I wanted to pull his hair, to climb on top of him, to kiss his soft lips again, but I couldn’t do anything but roll my hips and force my noises to mute. Lear knew how to touch me, and me finishing first would not be a problem.
An orgasm coiled like a spring in my belly and I rolled against him harder. I expected a smirk, but his gaze was intent on me as the table made sharp noises against the wall behind it. He continued the steady, sliding pressure against me and I broke, thighs shaking and my groan strangled as I came, the rush of pleasure like blinding light and then being wrapped in a sweet-smelling blanket.
Lear’s expression changed, and he gripped my waist, thrusting into me harder before letting out his own groan, the sound muted against my neck and his eyes squeezed shut.
We stayed there, both catching our breaths, the closet silent around us.
He pulled out of me, taking care of the condom and swiping a box of tissues from the shelf. He looked at his wrist. “Four minutes left . . . can I bank those for next time?”
I grinned and pulled my panties up. “Depends . . . what would you do with them?”
He handed me my skirt and our fingers lingered, the contact somehow more intimate and personal than what we’d just done. “Could I get that shirt and bra off you in four minutes?”
We both readjusted and, out of habit, I looked him over, making sure he didn’t appear rumpled. “You could try.”
Lear stepped toward me and tipped my chin up. His gaze was more intense than I expected. “I would.” His hand at my neck was possessive, firm without being rough, and it felt like he wanted to kiss me.
I didn’t like that I wanted to kiss him, too, so I placed my palm on his chest. “We’ll see what happens next time, then.” I took a step back and smoothed down my skirt, my center still heated from his attention. I opened the door and stepped out into the still-empty hall. When I didn’t hear his footsteps, I looked over my shoulder to find him leaning on the door frame. “I’m going to get back to work,” I said.
“Don’t mind me. I’m just watching you go.”
I laughed and returned to my phone and laptop, fairly certain he couldn’t see how wobbly my legs felt. “Enjoy the view.”
Chapter 20
Lear
ONE OF THE grooms’ father slapped a wide palm on my shoulder and I winced. “Not gonna lie. I didn’t know what to think of a man doing all this over-the-top, fancy wedding planning stuff, but you’re a good guy,” he said, his voice loud in a uniquely dad sort of way. “I think you’re taking good care of our boys. It’s gonna be a real nice day.” He motioned to his son and soon-to-be son-in-law and his eyes sparkled a little, blinking back tears. He was a contractor and kind of reminded me of my dad, who would have looked at this expensive wedding to a business mogul’s kid and shaken his head in disbelief. Hal didn’t seem to need anything, but his hand landed on my shoulder again. “We just love ’em both so much. You got kids?”