I lean down and take his mouth with mine. Firm. In control.
I made the step. It’s up to me to push forward.
He grows beneath my legs. I feel him. But he surrenders to me.
I release the rest of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off over his shoulders. His hands move over my back, fingers drawing circles up and down my spine.
I rock gently, needing to be closer to him, wanting to feel him. What’s it going to be like within minutes when he’s inside me? I haven’t had a man inside me for a long time, and I haven’t wanted one until Ben.
I never expected this when I invited him over tonight.
I thought we’d maybe have a conversation, agree to be business partners. Repair some of the relationship, but put the rest on the back burner.
But when he got here, and I looked at him, standing in my apartment, the last thing I wanted to do was let him go. The last thing I wanted to do was not have him again. Not investigate what could be.
I knew letting him walk out of here would be the end. I’d never make the move again, not once the line was drawn. I was drawing it, now I’ve got my eraser in hand to rub it out. It’s dust.
“You’re full of surprises tonight,” he says. “But I like it.”
His eyes widen, pupils dilating.
I swallow, then kiss him again.
There’s nothing else to do.
“Shall we take this to the bedroom?” I ask him.
He laughs softly under his breath. “Are we at that stage already?”
“Yes,” I say. This isn’t what I had planned, but it’s what I need. Selfishly, or otherwise. Tonight, I want Ben to have all of me.
I shuffle from his lap, rising, unsteady on my feet. He moves with me, then slides his shirt off his arms. It falls onto the sofa, discarded, exposing his muscular chest and abs that no middle-aged dad is allowed to have. His finger slides under my chin, raising my eyes back to his. He smiles. I blush at being caught looking so easily.
Then, I take his hand and lead him through to my bedroom.
It’s perfectly tidy as usual, bed made, pillows plumped to perfection. Nothing lying about. No shoes, no clothes, nothing. As we reach the door, I push it open.
“Are you sure?” he says. “This is fast.”
“I haven’t been more sure of anything in a long time.”
As we go to cross the door frame, his hands slip beneath my ass, lifting me onto his waist. I scream, taken off guard, but my arms find his neck with ease. He walks toward the bed, kissing me softly on my cheek, on my nose as we do so, then lays me down.
I lie on my bed, sunken into the Egyptian cotton, staring up at a man. The first time in a long time.
My knees drop open. He moves between my legs, lowering himself down on top, hands either side of my head.
“You’re stunning,” he says. “I don’t think you realize how captivating you are.”
He bends to kiss my forehead as his phone begins to ring in his back pocket. His eyes pop wide, one hand searching for the device, the other keeping balance. He pulls it out, stares at the screen, and grimaces.
“Liam,” he mutters. “Give me a minute.”
He doesn’t move, just answers the call above me. “What is it?”
There are garbled words on the other end of the line.
I grin up at him; he tries not to laugh. His knee pushes forward slightly, grazing between my legs. My blood heats, back arching. His smile widens. He knows just what he’s doing, and he’s enjoying it.