I turned to cross the bridge over to the North Side as dusk fell, coloring the sky purple and dark blue. “That’s different. You two didn’t know. I’m not a decent person, but I’m trying. Lane is making a life, and I want to also. I just don’t know what that life looks like.”

“And us?”

“I don’t know what that looks like either, but with me, you’ll be safe.”

My mind churned. Physically, she’d be safe; I’d protect her against anything or anyone. As for her heart, I wasn’t so sure about how safe that was. But I liked how I was feeling too much to consider the other options.

Parked inside my garage, we got out of the truck and she followed me into my home. All of a sudden, I wondered if she’d stay the night. I desperately wanted her to sleep next to me, to wake up next to her and slip deep inside her as morning broke the sky. I clenched my palm at my side, punishing myself for turning into such a pussy-whipped, lovesick idiot.

At the top of the stairs, I placed my hand on her lower back and guided her toward the kitchen. “Want a drink?”

“Just some water. So, what should we make?”

“We could grill. I have chicken and vegetables. And angel food cake with berries for dessert.”

Her eyes lit up like the dashboard of my Hummer. “Dessert?”

“I promised.”

“Good thing I ran a few extra flights today.”

I meant to get the chicken out of the fridge but cornered her against the counter, my hand roaming down her thigh. “I’m going to have to go out of business because that whole running stairs is apparently way better than working out in a gym.”

She laughed.

“I’m not kidding, those stairs are going to put me out of business.”

My nose grazed the tip of hers as my hand continued its descent down her thigh before climbing back up again. Her quad muscle flexed under my fingers, and a moan escaped my mouth. We stayed like that a beat or two, our breaths in sync, and my hand fell once again—this time not stopping until behind her knee. I lifted her right leg and pulled it around my waist, leaning her ass into the granite counter, and pressed my cock into her heat. Need seeped through her jeans, permeating the kitchen with lust.

I moved my lips to hers and kissed her.

Aly

My tailbone rested on the counter as Jake held me in place, his erection making itself well known against my seated thigh. I tried to lift my pelvis for more pressure, hunting down the release I experienced the other night, but he wouldn’t allow it. Jake’s hand remained firm on my hip, keeping me exactly where he wanted me until he released my lips and was on the move.

On his way down there, down below.

Oh. My. God.

“It’s Jake. Maybe even Jason if you’re good.”

“I said that out loud?”

“Yeah.”

His mouth grazed my belly button as he spoke. His left hand had my shirt lifted slightly and he was causing a forest of goose pimples to grow all over my stomach. He licked his way down to the top of my jeans, and with one flick of his fingers, they were unbuttoned. Sadly, he pulled his tongue away from my skin, but only for the ten seconds it took him to pull off my boots and tug down my jeans. I lifted my hips and shimmied my butt off the counter to help.

This, he allowed. Then he pried my thighs as wide as they would go and brought his face where only one man had ever done so before. At first, it was a light caress, a tender teasing with his tongue. A touch here, a swipe there, looking for the spot, but there wasn’t a particular spot that was more sensitive than any other. I was a goner the second the tip of his tongue grazed the edge of my vagina. Or was it my pussy? How was I supposed to refer to myself down there when Jake was clearly getting down and dirty and making me wild?

Jake tilted me back on the counter and dove in harder. He attacked my core with a skillful vengeance, a sense of purpose I’d never experienced from a man. The back of my head rested on the cabinet, my eyes squeezed shut as I took in every nip, lick, and taste. My pelvis reached and my hips strained for every movement. My lower body certainly didn’t want to miss out on anything related to Jake’s tongue.

“Stop squirming,” he demanded.

“Jake?”

He kept his hands where they were, but looked up at me. My green eyes and his blue ones were like two differently charged magnets. “I don’t have much experience with this,” I admitted.

“Even better. Ready for me to rock your world?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He dipped back in, his tongue sliding down my fold and up the other. Finally, he made his way to slip his tongue deep inside me and sucked me to the brink of orgasm. His thumb drummed my clit—that damn clit, I barely knew it existed a month ago.

My pussy pulsed with need as I felt his tongue driving in and out of me, my clit swollen, my libido awakened and doing a happy dance. Tiny moans and whimpers and pleas and begs for more continued to spill from me.

I was on the precipice, on the verge of something even more unknown than the night before, when Jake pulled away his tongue and blew a warm breath on my clit before stroking it with his even warmer tongue. My orgasm ripped through me, my muscles tensing, blood surging through my veins, and my head swam with visions of Jake’s tongue tasting me.

Sweat lined the back of my neck underneath my hair, my hands shook from the climax channeling through every one of my limbs, and Jake didn’t let up. He lapped up every last shiver as his tongue eased up on its pace, slowing and cooling me.

“Wish I could eat you every night for dinner.” He winked as he stood up, adjusting his pants.

In response, I opened my eyes and reached for the top of his jeans.

“Huh-uh, ladies only tonight. Now we eat. Get dressed.”

“No, that’s not fair.”

“Remember? I’m in control. I’m in charge, and I say it’s dinnertime. Tonight’s all about you, Aly-cat.”

On shaky legs, I stood and reluctantly slipped back into my pants so we could make chicken and grilled vegetables together. We saved the angel food cake for later, but we never ate it.

I got a chance to return Jake the favor from earlier, and it was much sweeter.

Tuesday I woke up in Jake’s bed. Alone. Next to me on the pillow was a note. It was a ripped page from a 2010 calendar, and Jake’s very messy handwriting was scrawled across the lines in red marker.

Hey, Aly-cat! Good morning. I left to work out. Took Mav to the gym with me. Don’t be mad. Make yourself at home. I left my iPad on the counter with the bus schedule pulled up. I know how you insist on taking it. I’ll swing by YOUR place and drop Mav later.

—JW

THANKS for a great night.

What the heck did that mean? Thanks for a great night? He took my dog to work? Our dog? I ran my hand over my face, rubbing my eyes, certainly smearing yesterday’s mascara everywhere. What time was it?

I rolled over in bed and found the clock. It wasn’t even six thirty in the morning. What time did this guy work out? Luscious memories of his body hovering over me, his biceps flexing, sweat running down his chest as he made love to—or slept with—me ran through my mind. Okay, so I had a one-night stand, or maybe a few-nights stand. Was there such a thing?

Get over yourself, Aly. People do it all the time. It’s the twenty-first century, and women can have sex whenever and with whoever they want.

I tossed my legs out of bed and stumbled on sore limbs to the bathroom. There was a folded towel on the counter, and I took that as an invitation to shower. Afterward, I put back my jeans back on from the day before—without underwear—and smoothed the creases out of my white blouse.