“Yes, you can tell Emma we’re officially sort-of seeing each other.”
“Officially, sort-of,” Chase repeated to Emma. I heard her ask, “What does that mean?”
“She wants to know—”
“Yeah, I can hear her,” I cut him off, annoyed more with myself than the two of them. Emma seemed like a sweetheart. Up until now, the two of us had hit it off well, spending some time together when Chase had been in the Olympics, when they’d come to visit last Fourth of July and, of course, their wedding. She’d probably think I was a lowlife if she knew it all.
“I don’t know what to say.” I paced around my living room, pent-up energy coursing through my body. “It’s complicated.”
“Because of her? Or—”
“No, dude, it’s me. I’m probably fucking everything up.”
“Tell him to just tell her how he feels,” Emma said to Chase. They should just put me on speaker phone.
“Yeah.” Palm on the back of my neck, I looked out at the ocean. The waves were choppy today, crashing into each other in a white and gray mess.
“Worked for me,” Chase added.
Leave it to the happily married couple to make it all sound so easy. “OK, thanks guys. I’ve got to go.”
“We scared him off,” Chase said to Emma.
“Tell him we’re rooting for him!” she replied.
“Next time just put me on speaker phone,” I suggested, mildly annoyed but also smiling. I was happy for Chase that he’d found someone he obviously clicked with so hard. And they’d had their own complications along the way but they’d worked it out. So, maybe I’d try their advice.
I headed over to the studio, sending Sophie a quick “on my way” text before I hopped in my truck. She was making good progress on the space, far faster than I’d ever imagined. I had to hand it to her, she was a determined little thing when she set her mind to something. She hadn’t been shy, either, about pestering the historical society and keeping it up every day to make sure they saw her side of things. She didn’t have a general contractor managing the renovation project, either. When I’d suggested she look into hiring one, she’d seemed offended.
“And miss all the fun?” She’d given me a crazy smile. I liked her even more for wanting to roll up her sleeves and get into it. She was kind and nice but could be tough as hell when she needed to be. She was the kind of person you wanted in your corner. Man, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, could I?
I parked a block away from her studio and walked there, coaching myself in my head. I should talk to her and tell her how I felt. That sounded simple. And I should go easy on her. She had to be sore from last night. Maybe today, just some kissing and cuddling. Maybe I could go down on her. Just the thought of that and I already had a raging erection.
But if things escalated—and they shouldn’t I reminded myself—but if they did I needed to put on a goddamn condom. I knew I was clean and she probably was, too, but the last thing we needed was a pregnancy thrown into the mix. We were already complicated enough as it was. Although suddenly the image of Sophie pregnant with my baby and smiling at me nearly stopped me in my tracks. My heart hurt. What the hell was happening?
I walked in and it took me all of sixty seconds to have her pressed up against the wall, kissing her like I’d been dying to do it for years instead of having seen her less than 12 hours ago. In my defense, she instigated it, throwing her arms around me and pressing that supple, flexible body of hers all up on me. I was like a panther with fresh meat. I’m not even sure we managed to say hello before we started stripping each other down, Sophie just as eager as me.
We did manage to make it into the back room where the flooring was all ripped up. Over in the one corner, I did the honor of tearing off her panties and pushed her against the wall.
“Wet already.” I brought my fingers between her legs, sliding them up to touch my version of heaven. Slick and hot, she just about melted at my touch.
“You get me so wet,” she murmured, kissing my neck, sucking me there, even getting a little teeth into the game.
“Are you sore from last night?” I’d torn into her, back and front. She looked ready to go, pink and flushed and so damn wet, but I wanted to be sure.
“Yes.” She brought her hand down to my cock, circling the tip with her thumb, taking some precum and rubbing it along my crown. I groaned as she grasped it, stroking and caressing until I grew even larger in her grasp. “But I want more.”
In an instant, I grabbed her hands and pinned them hard over her head, holding her at her wrists. “You want to get fucked?” I asked, cupping her ass with my free hand, positioning myself between her legs.
“Yes,” she moaned.
Swiftly, I brought my tip to her entrance, so slick and hot, and thrust up inside. I didn’t go slowly. I pushed into her and she gasped, biting her lip. I was sure she was sore, but she’d said she wanted more and that was what I was going to give her. Urgent and intense, I started fucking her, sliding in and out, nothing but the sounds of our bodies, the smell of our fucking.
Out of the corner of my eye I realized a mirror captured us. I went hard on her like an animal, shoving her up against the wall as she moaned. Her breasts jiggled with every thrust, her nipples pebbled into hard pink tips.
“You want more?” I growled, tilting her ass so I could fuck her harder, faster.
“Oh! Uh!” She couldn’t form words anymore as I slammed into her, our bodies slick and wild, slapping together.
“Watch us cum,” I ordered her, turning her head to the side to look into the mirror. She locked onto the image of us fucking and her gaze darkened, turned on by watching me use her, watching our lust consume us.
I brought my thumb to her clit and stroked in rhythm with my thrusts, taking her higher, higher until we both climaxed. Nothing felt so good as cumming deep inside Sophie, the feel of her pussy contracting around my cock, her cries of release mingling with my low groan. We fit together, she and I, in a tight lock, like we were made for each other.
I rested my head against her forehead, letting her arms come down, rubbing her wrists where I’d held her so tight.
“I hope that didn’t hurt,” I murmured as my heart rate started to come down.
“It did and I liked it.” She gave my neck a kiss. I groaned, pulling out of her, making sure she was settled all right on her feet.
“You’re going to kill me, Sophie.”
“Or the other way around.” She smiled up at me as she said it, but her insight jabbed at my conscience. I turned from her so she wouldn’t see my guilty reaction.
I pulled my clothes back on and started getting busy setting up my tools. Everything that needed to come up in the flooring had been removed. I’d put in new insulation last week. Now it was time to gingerly re-position each floorboard. I could only lightly sand the planks. Reshaping or fitting was a big no-no, so like a puzzle each piece needed to go back where it had lain before. This was the kind of work that made renovations such a headache. But within another week it would be done. I could wipe it down with some mineral spirits, get the baseboards back on and she’d be good to go.
Then I remembered. “I didn’t use a condom.” The words came out wooden, filled with regret.
“We should have talked about that first.” She put her hand on my arm. “I have an IUD and I’m clean, so on my end…”
“Me, too,” I assured her, feeling relief surge through me. “But I’m sorry we didn’t talk first. I always make sure—”
She winced and stopped me. “I don’t want to hear about how you are with other women.”
“Sorry.” I hadn’t thought that would make her jealous. Maybe she was feeling some of the crazy emotions I was?
We spent the rest of the day together, listening to music while we worked. She was sanding a door that needed to be repainted. She did the work slowly but carefully, paying loving attention to the detail in the wood. I made a lot of progress on the floorboards. We talked and
laughed the whole time, enjoying the sound of the rain against the window panes that Sunday afternoon.
“I’m thinking pizza,” she suggested around five o’clock. “That sound good?”
“Perfect.” That really described the whole day, the sex, the ease of companionship, everything about Sophie. We tipped the poor drowned pizza delivery boy extra for his troubles, and headed up to her little apartment. Each time I saw, it she’d made it more homey. She had a rug in the main room now and a small sofa.
“Look at you!” I complimented her, patting the furniture. “Getting all set up.”
“I know! I’m so excited.”
“Did you ever get settled into a place when you lived in New York? Or did you move around a bunch?”
We sat down with pizza and beers and she told me about her years in the city, living on the Upper East Side but really living at the dance company in midtown. It sounded like she’d had a bunch of roommates, plus one live-in boyfriend whose head I’d like to rip off with my bare hands. But I didn’t say it. I took it out on my pizza instead, viciously tearing into a slice.
“You don’t know how lucky you are!” she exulted, savoring a chewy, salty bite. “I could never eat this kind of thing! My teachers would all have a fit if they could see me now.” She seemed delighted at the idea.
“What would they think?” I couldn’t imagine anyone finding fault in Sophie’s appearance.