She gives me a shy smile and lifts an eyebrow. “Are you going to force me to make the first move?”
I glance down at her plump lips that are stained red from the gelato. “My dessert was lemon-flavored. Think cranberry and lemon go well together?”
She licks her lips. “I guess we’ll find out. Maybe we’ll discover our new favorite flavor.”
With those words, she tilts her head up. I meet her halfway.
The moment our lips touch, she sighs.
I want to tell her this kiss feels like all the planets in the universe just aligned. That what we have is undeniable.
I lick the sweetness off her bottom lip, and she opens for me. Reaching up, I tangle my hand in her thick hair and pull her closer. When her chest presses against mine, it takes everything in me not to lift her to straddle me.
“You taste delicious,” she whispers as she wiggles in my lap.
My straining erection digs into the zipper of my jeans, and I place my hands on her hips to still her. “Careful. You’re sitting on the baby-maker.”
She giggles, and I hug her to my chest.
I wish we could stay here along this stretch of road, overlooking the valley where the cicadas chirp. Away from school and football and crazy exes. Where it’s just me and Maggie, and we can drown out the noise by taking a drive.
It’s quiet here, and I can think. Everything is telling me I have to make this work with Maggie. We have to learn to draw down our defenses and trust each other.
Or we won’t make it.
Going slow might kill me, but if it gives me a chance to build something real with her, I’m game.
When we get home, I walk her upstairs, press her to her bedroom door, and kiss her until she’s panting. “Remember,” I tell her between licks to her pouty lips, “you have to ask for more.”
I can tell she wants to ask me for it now, but I’m not looking to break down barriers she’s not ready to remove of her own volition. We’ll get there. Eventually.
Even if it kills me.
The moment I’m in my bedroom with the door closed, I pop open my jeans, sending my erection bouncing against my stomach. I’m already sticky from pre-cum, which I slick over my length.
Leaning against my bedroom door, I close my eyes and roughly jerk myself off to my favorite fantasy—that one magical evening Maggie and I had together at the wedding before all hell broke loose. I’ve thought about that night more times than I can count. I sometimes wonder if she ever touches herself to those thoughts as well.
I see it like a slow-motion film flickering in the darkness.
The way Maggie rolled on the condom and sank over me, sending me into a frenzy. How her beautiful tits bounced in my face as she squeezed my cock in her tight, wet heaven.
And when I reached between us to roll her clit, she sat back, spread her legs, and let me watch my cock thrust in and out of her.
That’s all it takes for me to come all over my stomach.
Panting, I lean against the door and hope the beautiful woman across the hall is thinking about me too right now.
* * *
When Maggie gets home from work the next day, I sit her down on the couch. “Hear me out.”
Her eyes widen. “Now you’re scaring me.”
I lean over and kiss her until the furrow between her brows disappears. “My parents want me to come home this weekend to celebrate Kayla’s birthday, do a Fourth of July picnic, and eat vast quantities of baked goods.” Here comes the scary part. “Would you like to join me?”
She blinks slowly. “You want me to go home with you?”
“Yes. As… my girlfriend. I figure if we ease the parentals into this thing slowly, they won’t be as shocked when we tell them you’re pregnant. What do you say?”
