Adventures in Online Dating Page 10

  That shattered the slow and easy pace he’d set. Without releasing her nipple, he reached around, slid the zipper of her skirt down, and shoved the material toward the floor. Only when it was off did he step back and take her in again.

  Alexa wanted him closer. If the hungry look changed now that her stretch marks and cellulite were all visible, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again.

  “You have to be the single most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.” It was still there. Not only that, but he rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth like it was watering. Before she could get a word out, he picked her up. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, his erection pressing even closer to its intended destination.

  When he lowered her onto his bed, he bent with her, maintaining that contact as he trailed kisses from her breasts, down her abdomen, to the edge of her lace panties. His tongue played along the waistband until she squirmed, and then he hooked his fingers inside the lace and tugged it down. She lifted her hips to help him, but when she tried to lower them, his hands cradled her ass, holding her up.

  “Did you forget? I promised you two orgasms before I got mine.” The kisses began anew, tracing a path slowly along her hipbone and inching lower and lower before his lips pressed against her swollen, sensitive clit. Just that pressure might have done her in after this long, but then he began laving her with his tongue.

  Kissing.

  Licking.

  Sucking.

  Until her eyes rolled back and she fisted his sheets.

  She writhed under him, her body riding the edge of an orgasm she couldn’t quite seem to crest. For a second, it seemed like Marshall was going to give up, so she released her death grip on the sheets and held his head in place, urging him on with tiny thrusts of her hips.

  Then his hands left her ass, and she locked her muscles into position. God, she needed more. She needed…

  Two of his fingers slid inside her, thrusting with her. Hooked slightly to graze her G-spot on every withdrawal.

  Oh God. So close.

  “More. I need more.”

  Three fingers.

  “Faster.”

  Three fingers moving so fast she could barely focus. The moment he sucked on her clit once more, she tumbled over the edge of orgasm. Her hips pumping as her insides closed around his fingers, holding them tightly.

  Even once her muscles relaxed, he stayed right there, licking and kissing as she eased down from the orgasm. Only when her hips met the mattress did he withdraw his fingers. One last lingering press of lips to her clit, and then he crawled onto the bed next to her, pulling her tightly against him.

  As if with a mind of their own, her hands found the open fly of his jeans and slid inside, gripping his swollen, throbbing erection until he moaned. “Don’t mess with that too much unless you’re ready for round two already.”

  At his words, her muscles clenched again, as if now that her vagina had a taste of what it felt like to be filled, it couldn’t get enough. “Ready doesn’t begin to explain how much I want you inside me.”

  He planted a tender kiss on the top of her head before rolling away and opening a drawer in his nightstand. After a few seconds of digging, he stood and held a condom in one hand as he pushed down his pants with the other. “Life’s short. I don’t believe in making people wait.”

  Free of the confines of his jeans, his erection jutted proudly from his body. Long, hard, thick. Her mouth watered just looking at it, and her insides spasmed around nothing. “Believe me, I appreciate that attitude.”

  As soon as he had the condom on, he crawled onto the bed between her legs. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

  She gripped his biceps as he thrust into her, filling her, stretching her little-used muscles, and she cried out his name. The way he gazed down at her made her wish she hadn’t held out so long. It also told her one very important thing for certain—in that moment, she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alexa woke in a haze of aching muscles and fuzzy brain to find herself naked and alone. She rolled over, groaning at the way her back popped and her thighs quivered. She flopped onto her stomach, grabbing the extra pillow to cover her head as horns began honking outside.

  What the hell were people making such a racket for?

  Then she inhaled a deep breath and woke fully.

  This wasn’t her pillow.

  It smelled like…

  She bolted upright in the bed. Not her bed. Not her room.

  She was still at Marshall’s.

  It didn’t matter that the kids weren’t home. It didn’t matter that she could have hopped a flight and spent the night in Jamaica or something. She did not spend the night with men after a first date.

  She didn’t have sex with them on the first date, either.

  Hell, had that even been a date?

  It was only supposed to be twenty minutes. Convince her that she didn’t, in fact, want to go home alone to her big, empty house. That had been the deal. Sure, if she fought through the morning-after haze, she vaguely recalled being the one who put another twenty on the table, but how the hell had that turned into an overnight? She needed to leave. Now.

  Scrambling out of the sheets, she only managed to tangle herself in them further. Her body thumped to the floor as she struggled to roll over.

  “You okay in there?”

  She popped her head up as footsteps drew near. “Fine!”

  “Okay. I’m making breakfast. It’ll be ready in like five minutes.” His footsteps padded away now, light. Barefoot. Possibly as naked as she was.

  Oh no. No, no, no, no. Not doing the naked game again.

  Finally free of the evil sheet, Alexa hunted down her clothes. Her skirt, blouse, and bra were easy enough to find, but her panties proved elusive. They weren’t with the other things, and she couldn’t remember which direction Marshall might have thrown them last night.

  With the decision to forget about her damn lace panties firmly in mind, she shimmied into her skirt, adjusted her bra, and buttoned her blouse. A glance in the mirror showed hair tangled into a mess that would take more conditioner than she guessed Marshall had in the apartment. With a little work, she managed to tame it into something resembling a messy bun. To her it was still just a mess, but maybe it would allow her to get home without too many strange looks.

  Now she just had to get away from Marshall. But when she opened the bedroom door, she was hit with a wall of delicious scents. The sizzle of bacon set her mouth to watering, and was that maple syrup? And cinnamon? The debate between bolting out the door and staying for breakfast ended when Marshall stepped into view and handed her a mug of coffee.

  “Morning, gorgeous.” He kissed her gently on the cheek before returning to the kitchen.

  A single sip proved the coffee was just the way she liked it. Extra cream. Extra sugar. Decadent. Ignoring the teenager’s dream living room, she eased onto a barstool and took in the kitchen. It fell somewhere between the madness behind her and the bedroom. Clearly, Marshall had invested in good cookware and appliances, but the room was decorated with kitschy collectibles from movies. An Avengers pennant hung over the stove, a shelf was dedicated entirely to Star Wars Funko Pops, and there appeared to be some sort of war raging via means of refrigerator magnets. He’d said he liked being a mass of contradictions—the kitchen and dining area of his apartment only confirmed that.

  “So, what are we having for breakfast?” Because at this point, her mouth was watering so much that leaving simply wasn’t an option. What harm would twenty more minutes to fill her belly cause?

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I have scrambled eggs with cheddar, bacon, and cinnamon pancakes. Hopefully, one of those appeals to you.” He hefted three plates and tipped his head toward the dining table with a cookie jar that looked like that thing from Doctor Who. What was it called? TARDIS? Yes, the TARDIS. She couldn’t remem
ber what Brendan said it stood for, but when she was helping him with a paper for English, he’d insisted it was an acronym and therefore all capitalized.

  She sat down in front of a breakfast spread fit for a queen, and Marshall took the chair opposite her.

  After how long she’d been married, breakfast should have been easy. But Chris had rarely eaten first thing in the morning, and she’d never spent the night with any of the guys she’d gone out with since the split. What were they supposed to talk about?

  “This all looks great.”

  Really, Alex? That’s the best you’ve got?

  “Thanks.” Marshall dug in, scooping a big spoon of eggs onto his plate, adding bacon on top, and then putting a short stack of pancakes to the side. When she didn’t move, he tipped his head toward the food. “Just take what you want, or if you’d rather have something else…”

  “No. It’s fine. I’m just trying to decide where to start.” She spooned some eggs onto her plate, just to give her something to do with her hands, and if she was lucky, keep him from asking any more questions she didn’t know how to answer.

  Why was he so relaxed this morning? Did women usually stay over? He’d implied last night that he hadn’t had sex in months, but before that, was this his norm? Sex, breakfast, and then go their separate ways?

  That was when the truth hit her. She didn’t want to go separate ways, not really. Last night had been amazing on multiple levels. The conversation. The kissing. The sex.

  My God, the sex.

  Just thinking about it had her getting wet again.

  She shoved some eggs into her mouth as a distraction. It was a good choice considering they were amazing.

  Hell, he was amazing if she were totally honest. The guy made a killer cup of coffee. He made her laugh. He could dance. He could cook. He’d been solid on paper, but now he’d proven his appeal went beyond that. Way beyond. A total contradiction to her initial assessment of him.

  But she was being selfish. This wasn’t about her. She’d started looking for someone because of the kids. If only Marshall were mature enough to be what the boys needed, too, then he would be perfect.

  She stopped chewing mid-bite.

  Did she really have to find everything she was looking for in one man? Couldn’t she and Marshall have their fun while she found a mentor or big brother of sorts for the boys? Or did they even need one? As worried as she’d been upon discovering the porn on Brendan’s computer, he was shaping up to be exactly the kind of good man she wanted to raise. The possibility that she had really only been looking for a man for herself was a new one, but faced with the reality of having to walk out the apartment door and leave all this behind, she accepted that it could work.

  She just had to keep things with Marshall separate from the rest of her life. Because there was a world of difference between not bringing in a man’s presence and bringing in a man who often acted like a teenager…and was unlikely to stick around in the long run. Meanwhile, she could enjoy his company.

  Screw living twenty minutes at a time. This was the ideal solution to a problem she’d made overly complicated.

  “Want more?” When she didn’t respond right off, Marshall tipped his head toward the plate she’d cleared of eggs.

  “Yes,” she announced with a contented smile. “I want more of everything.”

  …

  Alexa had spent the night again Saturday, but when Marshall had to head to the Bean Counter Sunday morning, she’d gone home to do some work before her ex brought the kids back. She’d left him with no promises beyond that she’d see him Monday.

  Marshall spent the next twenty-four hours wondering if that meant she’d see him when she picked up a coffee to start her speed dates, or that she’d see him when she came in for the rush, or something else. He tried not to care, but damn it, he really didn’t want to watch her dating other men.

  When she came in at one for her usual jumbo coffee and muffin, his heart sank into his gut.

  It was just a weekend fling, dude. Enjoy it for what it was. You don’t have time to date anyway.

  Only with things at the café headed in the right financial direction finally, he would have time to date. Maybe he hadn’t made his intentions clear. Hell, had he even suggested that he had intentions? Or just that he was open to sex?

  Instead of the first of a parade of men, at one fifteen, Peyton strode up to the counter and pointed toward Alexa. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

  Marshall couldn’t suppress the relief that colored his words. “So you’re her date today?”

  Peyton cocked her head to the side and stared at him. “Holy fuck. You’re what she’s having. Hot damn. But since I don’t tread on my girl’s territory, I’ll just take the coffee and muffin.”

  He hadn’t intended on being that easy to read, but there was no sense in denying it. If Alexa had indeed cancelled her speed dating plans in favor of girl time, odds were she would spill to Peyton anyway. When she paid, Marshall said, “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring it out.”

  Okay. This was all good. Business finally making some money. No more men traipsing in here every day. And he had spent the weekend with the hottest woman he’d ever met. Things were definitely looking up in his life.

  He poured Peyton’s coffee—she liked it black with sugar packets on the side—and grabbed her muffin. But on the way to their table, he almost tripped and dumped the entire tray.

  “So,” Peyton said, leaning closer to Alexa as if sharing secrets even though her voice carried straight to the front of the café, “is it serious?”

  “Good God, no!” Alexa laughed. “I mean, he’s more than I thought, but at his core, he’s still the same guy. Judging by his apartment, he has more in common with Brendan than he does me. But I enjoyed the weekend. I enjoyed him. We’ll keep things casual and fun, and I’ll find someone else to fill the void of Christian. Or not. I think we’ll be okay either way.”

  What.

  The.

  Fuck?

  Marshall backed up until he was close to the register and shouted toward Claudette’s station, “Delivering an order. Watch the register.”

  He knew damn well the barista would be poking her head around the corner, staring after him because he never announced things like that. Thirty seconds away from the counter wasn’t worthy of a “watch the register,” but he needed to announce his approach to Peyton and Alexa.

  “Here you go.” He slid the tray onto the table. “Can I get you two anything else?”

  “No.” Alexa smiled at him—toothy and real. Like she hadn’t just told her best friend he didn’t mean a damn thing to her beyond sex. And as much as he might have thought he’d be okay with that, he’d realized yesterday that he wanted more. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have had a spike of jealousy at the thought of her dating today. “We’re good. Thanks.”

  “Still clocking in for rush today? Or do I lose because I’m sure you’ll see Peyton again?”

  “Bet?” Peyton arched a brow at Alexa.

  She ignored her friend. “Of course, I’ll still be here to help out. I actually enjoy the hour I spend working here, so while I’m ditching the hours of dating, I’m keeping that. I also wanted to talk to you about those improvements, if there’s time.”

  The extra work she didn’t want to be paid for. Right. “Sure. Let me know when you two are done, and I’ll plan my break around that.”

  He hadn’t meant to sound officious, but that’s what he heard in his voice. Judging by the sudden appearance of the deep frown lines between Alexa’s brows, he was certain she’d noted, too. Well, boo fucking hoo.

  With her pronouncement, he wasn’t sure how to act around her. Was he her boyfriend? Her boss? Her lover? Her partner? Her friend? He wasn’t going to switch hats whenever the mood struck her, so she was going to have to figure out where the hell they stood.

  For the next hour, he stewed. What the hell did he want out of all of this? Did he have a right to be pissed at her for
seeming to know the answer to that when he didn’t? Was that even remotely fair?

  Peyton left shortly after two, giving them just enough time to run through her suggestions before the teenagers started showing.

  “Did you even hear a word I just said?” she asked as she tied on her apron.

  Truthfully, no, he hadn’t. He’d been too busy looking for some sign of where they were headed, some hint that what she’d told Peyton hadn’t been her whole truth. Because the one thing he knew for sure was he could have had just sex with a lot of women. Why did it feel like that suddenly wasn’t enough when it came to Alexa? “Yeah. A little distracted, though. Can you email me some notes?”

  She turned, and the frown lines were there again, deeper this time. “I did that before you sat down. I told you I did.”

  Shit. “Sorry. Distracted.”

  “Marshall…”

  As she stood, clearly waiting for a response, the bell over the door chimed. “Teen time. Talk later.”

  He was gone before she said whatever it was she’d been thinking. He had roughly an hour to read her behavior and figure out if things between them had really changed—for better or worse. And also to figure out his own head.

  After all, he was the one who did casual sex. She didn’t. If anything, she was the one stepping out of her comfort zone. Maybe it was because she thought that was what he wanted from her, which only doubled down on his needing to figure his own shit out.

  During the rush, everything seemed to go back to normal. He took orders, Alexa poured, Claudette did her thing, Alexa delivered. And like always, there were those innocent touches that seemed steeped in meaning.

  At one point, he had to grab some extra sugar packs from the shelf over the coffee station. He reached over Alexa, her back to his front, and the instant he came in contact with her ass, he started going hard. To make matters worse, she seemed to notice and pushed back against him ever so fucking gently that it made his head spin. By the time the teen crew had departed, all he could think about was sex, which wasn’t helping his decision-making skills at all.