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DidI intentionally pull out the nice guy card minutes ago? Yes. Yes, I did. Did I do it to throw Ben off his game? Damn right, I did. I’d be a fool not to.
Ben is a great guy. Down to earth, kind, endearing. The type of guy you want to introduce to your family. The guy that buys flowers just because and showers you with affection and tenderness without an agenda. Ben is that wholesome guy next door women would be honored to have by their side.
With one smile from Ben at any given time, Kirsten visibly softens. Not because she is in love with him. Not because she wants to be more than friends with Ben.
Quite the opposite, actually.
Those doses of tenderheartedness come from a place of deep affection. Unfortunately for Ben, those drip-fed bits will never be anything stronger. In her own way, Kirsten loves Ben. But she isn’tin lovewith Ben.
And as I ascend the stairs to the loft behind Kirsten, I school my expression and peer down at him in the living room. Say more with a single glance than any string of words.
Kirsten is mine.
Ben inches forward, his eyes shifting from mine to Kirsten’s profile. With each step up she takes, his shoulders cave more inward. When she reaches the landing and doesn’t acknowledge his eyes on her, he deflates completely.
Could I toss a victorious smile in his face? Absolutely.
Will I be that asshole right now? No, I won’t.
Is every molecule in my body thrumming with triumph? Hell yes.
Turning my attention back to Kirsten, I take a wiggly Trixie from her. “I’ll hold this little lady while you change.” I press my lips to Kirsten’s temple, then step back and hold Trixie high. “You gonna steal my snuggle spotlight tonight, little Trixie?”
Her dark eyes close as her sweet purr vibrates my hands.
In a graphic tee that hits the tops of her thighs, Kirsten pulls back the covers and slips between the sheets, shivering. “Shit, it’s cold.”
I set Trixie on the bed and she trots up to the pillows. After a few gentle nudges of Kirsten’s head, Trixie crawls onto Kirsten’s pillow and curls up by her fanned out hair.
Stripping down to my underwear, I duck under the covers and hiss as the frigid sheets swathe my skin. Darkness blankets us as the light on the first floor shuts off. I roll onto my side, band an arm around Kirsten’s middle, and drag her across the bed until no space exists between us.
Chin tucked in the crook of her neck, I inhale her sweet floral scent. Skim the tip of my nose up the column of her throat. Kiss the soft spot below her ear and smile when her pulse soars beneath my lips. Tighten my arm around her and hum as every inch of her molds itself to me.
“Mm. Night, sunshine.” I press a kiss to the angle of her jaw.
Laying her arm over mine, she sighs. “Night, Trav.”
Skin hot and damp, I groan and shove the blanket down my body. Goose bumps flare to life as the chilly air hits my bare chest. After several steady breaths, my body temperature starts to regulate. I reach for the sheet at my hip but pause when Kirsten rolls her hips slightly.
Breath caught in my throat, my eyes blink open. Unflinching, unspeaking, I wait to see if my semiconscious mind plays another trick or if Kirsten rolls her hips again. A slow-burning fire expands in my lungs as I lay motionless, my solid frame pressed firmly against her supple curves. Beside me, her muted inhales and exhales give nothing away. Her back to my front, her steady heartbeat declares I must have been dreaming.
Exhaling, I grip the sheet. And just as quickly, I pause again. Because this time, when Kirsten rubs herself over my length, there is no denying it is intentional.
I drop the sheet, grip her hip, and rock my hips into her. Her raspy hum of appreciation echoes in the confines of the steepled loft, spurring me further.
I trail kisses along the length of her shoulder, the curve of her neck, and up to the spot beneath her ear that makes her back arch. Breath hot on her ear, I grind my hardening cock between her cheeks. “Something you want, baby?”
“Mm-hmm.” Her hips gyrate in slow, measured circles as she reaches back and clutches my thigh.
Fingers bruising her hip, I nip her ear with my teeth. My hand drifts over the curves of her body, tugging her shirt up, up, up. On the next breath, she sits up, rips it over her head, and tosses it aside.
And then she twists, shoves me flat on my back, and straddles my hips. Palms on my chest, blonde waves curtaining her face, she grinds over my length. I latch on to her hips, curl my fingers into the thin band of elastic, and drag down in silent request.
Forearms framing my face, essentially on all fours, she sways forward and gives me room to slide her panties down while simultaneously smothering me with her breasts. I moan into her cleavage and she giggles. And after some momentary finagling, she hovers bare and radiant and horny as fuck above me.
With a lick of my lips, I stare up at this goddess,mygoddess.Mine. “So fucking perfect.”
Eyes on mine, she teases the head of my cock through my underwear. “Need you,” she confesses in a whisper.
