Lacey groaned again.
I was torn between wanting to make her feel good and not wanting to push her too far, too fast. A quick fuck on her couch probably wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she invited me over tonight. And something about her made me want to take my time, savor her in a way I’d never done with a woman before.
I bent forward to kiss her again, long and slow, while massaging her gorgeous breasts. I couldn’t keep my hands off them. Such a beautiful set of tits deserved to be worshiped, touched, kissed, licked, bitten. The desire to mark her skin flared inside me, and I only barely beat it back.
Lacey rocked her pelvis up to grind against me, and a tortured growl clawed up my throat.
“Careful, sweetheart,” I warned.
I was on my best behavior at the moment, but if she kept rubbing her warm pussy up against me, I wouldn’t be for long. The thought of stripping her shorts away and pounding into her tight, hot cunt almost edged out every ounce of my good sense.
Somehow, some way, I reined myself in, letting her set the pace. We remained clothed, kissing and groping and grinding until I thought my cock was going to burst. But our leisurely make-out session was strangely satisfying on its own. More than enough—at least, for now.
How could such a tame act be so much fun? Maybe I’d been missing out on a good thing for all these years. Or maybe kissing only felt this good with Lacey.
Something to ponder for another time.
We cuddled and kissed in front of a movie she picked, some feel-good comedy that left me free to focus on her warm softness against my side until the oven timer rang. Then we served ourselves the delicious-smelling feast. At the first tender bite, Lacey’s coo of pleasure made me lean across the table and kiss her yet again.
Despite all the scars we’d bared—or maybe because of them—tonight had been nothing short of perfect. But my past had taught me not to trust so easily. As happy as I felt right then, I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that things were too good to be true.
Chapter Seven
Lacey
When my boss insisted on happy hour, I couldn’t exactly refuse. I’d wanted to go home, get out of my slobber-soaked jeans and T-shirt, and take a hot bath, but I figured one drink couldn’t hurt.
Jamie was a recent divorcée, and while she was friendly and outgoing, she was also a bit like a cougar on the prowl. A rabid cougar.
Soon we were sitting at West’s bar, the same place I’d met Nolan the week before, drinking jumbo-sized margaritas. It was ladies’ night, which meant two cocktails for the price of one.
Crap . . . so much for just grabbing one quick drink. I could only hope my boss wouldn’t drown her romantic sorrows too hard.
Jamie set her frosty glass down on the table, looking forlorn. “The next man I’ll even consider dating will need to have a steady job and no mommy issues.”
I made a sympathetic noise that she could interpret however she wanted. Her standards weren’t exactly high, but hey, who was I to judge?
“And maybe not so selfish in bed,” she added, lifting her glass in a toast. “What about you?” She hiccupped. “Special man in your life?”
I shook my head. “No, not really.” I found myself feeling protective of Nolan, and I didn’t want to share the intimate details of our . . . whatever it was.
I winced at the memory of how emotional I’d gotten the other night. I couldn’t believe I’d broken down like that. Sobbed on his shoulder over a dog I’d known for all of three weeks. But Nolan had been so sweet and tender about the whole thing. Holding me as I cried, telling me his own story about the friend he’d lost. I was quickly starting to feel more for him than I ever dreamed possible.
Nolan’s love life was a hot mess, but he was also handsome and strong and honorable. I couldn’t walk away now, not even if I wanted to.
Soon one drink with Jamie turned into two, then three. When a round of shots was set before us, compliments of a couple of guys at the bar, Jamie squealed and handed one to me. As I sucked on the little lime wedge, I realized my head was starting to spin. There was no way I’d be driving home tonight. When I passed by the bar on my way to the restroom, I stopped at the counter, leaning over to ask the bartender if he would call cabs for my friend and me. He nodded and picked up his phone.
A few minutes later, the bartender wandered over and introduced himself as the owner, West. He was a tall, muscled linebacker of a man. Handsome, but a little scary.
When he announced that our cabs were here, Jamie stood and grabbed her purse, and I followed suit, thanking him. Outside, she climbed inside the yellow minivan and waved, saying she’d see me at work. As the van drove away, I realized that West must have assumed we’d share the cab. Meaning that I’d just missed my ride.
“Damn it.” I looked around the all-but-deserted parking lot, wondering what I was going to do now. Surely there was more than one cab in this entire town.
Then I froze. There, at the back corner of the lot, was a white sedan with its interior dome light on. I couldn’t be sure it was the same car from last week, but cold dread still crept through me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck and making me step back.
No way was I waiting out here. I’d just have to go back inside and ask West for another cab.
“Come on. I’m driving you home.”
The familiar voice surprised me, and I spun around to see Nolan approaching through an opening between the parked cars. Relief flooded through me, weakening my knees.