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Mae’s got curves for miles, and the soft fabric hugs her skin in all the right places. Lines of black boning accentuate ample hips I want to squeeze, and wrap around a plump, juicy ass I want to bite.
“You’re stunning.” I don’t even hide the heat in my voice. I know Mae isn’t ready for what I want to offer her, but that won’t stop me from letting her know I’m available whenever she is. She wants to keep us platonic because of Isabel, and I understand her reasoning. But she also doesn’t realize how good we could be together. We’re a synchronized team taking care of Isabel. I’m so invested in their lives it’s sometimes hard to remember this is only a job. My life is entwined with theirs, and I’m better because of it. Mae won’t admit it, but she is too.
Her loneliness is palpable, but she isn’t selfish. She only sees this situation as black and white—pursuing me would take away from her child. Maybe it’s because of how I grew up, but watching Mae sacrifice everything for her daughter is why I fall harder every single day.
A shy smile forms on her beautiful face. “Thanks.”
Mae tugs the bottom of the short hemline, which is made of lace overlay, giving her an exaggerated hourglass figure that Jessica Rabbit would be jealous of.
As I stare at the black lace, my pants tighten when I wonder if she’s wearing matching underwear. Or any underwear at all.
“Are you sure you’re okay staying the night? I know you have a thing on Sundays, so…” She looks away.
“Of course I am. That bed is way more comfortable than the hard lumpy futon I usually sleep on.”
I’m living in a bachelor pad with a futon that acts as a couch and a bed. My apartment isn’t an apartment, per se, more like basement storage under a Chinese food restaurant. It’s not as if I couldn’t afford something better. I could if circumstances were different. But they aren’t, and it is what it is—a futon-couch bed.
Big green eyes flash to me, taking me in. “You sleep on a futon?”
I nod. “I might not have much, but what I do have is mine. Paid for with my own money.” My teeth clamp over my lips. Nothing like telling the woman I have feelings for that I have nothing to offer her, except for my cooking skills … and my monster dick. She seemed fond of that.
Concern etches her features. “Remi, are you struggling?”
“No, you pay me well, Queeny. I’m a guy that doesn’t need many material things.” I wink, reverting back to flirting.
It’s not a lie, but I don’t want to be another person she feels obligated to support. She’s spread far enough and not in the way I want her to be.
An image of her lying on the bed, legs splayed open for me, flashes in the forefront of my mind. My mouth dries as I look for a place to hide my pelvis behind.
Then she does something that really tests my willpower. She puckers her pretty lips and coats them with a ruby red lip gloss, looking like the most forbidden fruit and the biggest sin a man could ever commit.
“You know you can stay here any time.”
I swallow because I don’t want her to know how badly I want to take her up on that. It’s a terrible idea, of course. Being here twenty-four-seven will make it that much harder to respect her friend-zone boundary. But I also hate leaving them at night. Do they miss me as much as I miss them?
“Thank you for the offer. I might just take you up on it.” My lips quirk up at her blush.
“Okay, don’t hesitate to call me if you need me to come home. I won’t be out late, but you don’t have to wait up for me.” She’s a walking wet dream as she sashays toward me, lifting onto the tips of her toes and giving me a cheek kiss. It’s innocent, and yet a bolt of desire zaps through me, making my dick twitch.
When she goes to pull away, I clasp an arm around her back. I’m at a loss for words. All I know is that I’m not ready to let her go yet.
The need to leave my mark on her—so that every fucker who comes within a mile radius of her knows she’s mine—shocks me. The world around us disappears, and the urge to kiss her thoroughly fires through my cerebral cortex. I’ve never been a possessive guy, but I’m different with Mae. Everything with her is a new experience. Sometimes it’s invigorating, but most times it’s torture. Like right now.
I want to do nothing more than peel this dress off her body and show her how good I can be to her. That she’s never met a man like me before. Show her all the tricks my celestial cock can do.
“What are you doing?” Queeny’s words are breathy, and she’s trembling. In her head, she’s running for her life, but her body is calling for me to come closer.
I tuck a lock of red hair behind her ear and trace my thumb down her soft cheek. “Lookin’ at you.”
Her breasts are firm against the side of my chest. I’m not going to lie—I’m a boob guy, and Queeny’s got a perfect set. Buxom and bouncing, they greet me every morning, and yet I’ve never given them a proper hello. So many times, I’ve fucked my fist imagining I’m fucking them.
I almost grind against her so she can feel how much she affects me. When she doesn’t pull back, I get bolder, watching her face for any sign of reluctance. Her chest heaves with a breath, like an invitation. However, that’s not what’s driving me mad at the moment.
As if they have a mind of their own, my fingertips brush down her neck and feather over her clavicle. I’ve never before looked at a woman with such rapt attention to notice an ordinary thing like that on her body.
But every part of Mae is sexy. Her elbows and knees. Ears and chin. Her snorts and sneezes. Fucking everything. She’s smart as hell too. The complete package.
Screw what Kiara wants or what Cody thinks. This is my life, and I stopped letting other people make decisions for me long ago.
