Page 76 of The Plus One Professional

Her hands gripped my upper arms as I continued to pull back and then sink inside of her, over and over again. Slowly, inch by inch, I took my time making love to her. As much passion as I felt, I refused to let it rush me. Tonight wasn’t about the finish line. Tonight was about prolonging every second, every millisecond we had together.

Every atom in my body was singing with awareness as I thrust in and out. Her hips moved with me in perfect timing. When we were together, it was like we were tuned into a unique frequency.

Beads of sweat formed on the back of my neck as we made love. Ecstasy came in waves, crashing onto the shore and then getting drug back out to sea by the tide. Each time, I thought it was going to be the one that took me out, but each time, the intensity ebbed and then flowed back.

Our eyes remained locked, and I watched as her mouth opened in a silent cry as her orgasm overtook her. I tried to hold out and keep up the rhythm to draw out her release, but once her walls began to spasm around me, I lost it.

My entire body seized with pleasure as I drove into her one final time. The muscles in my thighs, back, and arms tensed in that last surge. She clung to me as her body squeezed every last drop of my seed from me.

Once we were both recovered, I got up and went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When I returned to the bed, I laid down on my back and pulled her next to me. She curled against my side and rested her head on my chest.

We lay in silence, and I listened closely to her breathing patterns, hoping she wouldn’t fall asleep. I didn’t want this night to be over so soon. I had a lot more plans for her.

Her head lifted, and she rested her chin on my chest. “Thank you.”

“For what?” If she was thanking me for the two orgasms, then it was premature because I wasn’t done with her.

“For this weekend… for everything.”

I brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “I should be the one thanking you. This was…” I didn’t quite know how to put into words what the past forty-eight hours had meant to me.

As I tried to articulate what I was feeling, a sad smile lifted on her lips.

“What?” I asked as I raked my fingers through the silky strands of her hair. “What’s wrong?”

“I just, I sort of feel like Cinderella at the ball, and tomorrow, when we go back to the city, the clock strikes midnight, and this is all over.”

I wanted to argue with her. I wanted to tell her that she was wrong and that this wasn’t over; it would never be over. But if the past five years had taught me anything, it was that what I wanted—what anyone wanted—didn’t matter.

Sara hadn’t wanted her husband to get sick and die. She hadn’t wanted to get sick and have her life changed forever. People didn’t always get what they wanted or what they deserved.

In my heart, I knew that Bailey was right. Tomorrow, when we returned to the city, the magic would be gone. Reality was the antidote for the spell that we’d been under.

Even after I got my contractor’s license and was able to stop moonlighting as a plus one, my living situation wasn’t going to change overnight. She already had an issue with my age. Me sleeping on a couch wasn’t going to help with that.

And the biggest of all the obstacles was still there—my familial commitments. Even when I was able to move us to a bigger place, nothing was going to change my responsibility to Sara and the kids. There was no way I’d ever ask anyone who was coming into my life to take that on.

If tonight was all we had, then I was going to make it the best night I could. A night that would carry us through the rest of our lives. A night we’d remember forever.

31

BAILEY

A sliverof sunlight broke through the slit in the heavy curtains and shone across Cole’s stubbled chin. The day was dawning. Far too soon, this carriage was going to turn back into a pumpkin.

I’d spent the night watching Cole as he slept. Not in a creepy way. It was more of an Aerosmith scenario. I just didn’t want to miss a thing. I didn’t want to waste even a second of the time that I had with him. It was too precious.

Not to mention, he was not bad to look at. He truly was a perfect specimen of a man. His features were masculine but also so pretty. His square jaw, peppered with a five o’clock shadow, was the perfect balance to his long, dark lashes. His high cheekbones complemented his strong forehead and straight brows. That didn’t even cover his other attributes: his ocean blue eyes, chiseled frame, deep voice, woodsy scent, soft touch, andlarge…hands.

I wasn’t exactly sure what the science was behind what made people attractive, but I knew that there was some. And whatever it was, Cole Crawford had it in spades.

The longer I stared at him, the more turned on I got. Not that I’d been aware of it in real time. It must have happened gradually. I only realized just how worked up I was a second before I felt my nose twitch.

My hand flew to my mouth, and I did my best to suppress the sneeze that exploded behind my palm. I thought I’d gotten away with it until I saw Cole’s long, thick lashes flutter open. Feeling like I’d just gotten caught with my hand in the cookie jar, I quickly turned my head and shut my eyes. As soon as I did, I regretted my decision. I’d had the nerve to say that Cole was too young for me, yet there I was, pretending to sleep.

Either I wasn’t particularly convincing, or Cole didn’t care if I was still asleep because I felt his arm wrap around me and grab my ass, pulling me closer to him.

“Good morning,” he rasped as he buried his face in my neck. The hand that had started on my butt was now moving up my back beneath my shirt. “Why do you have clothes on?”

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