Page 16 of Screw Christmas
She considered my question as we were whisked up the ten floors to her floor. “Hard to say. Depends on how single he is. He likes to control people. He wants to be the only man every woman thinks about, past girlfriends especially. He was dating someone, but hard to say what his relationship status is now.”
“Sounds like a narcissist.” That was putting it nicely. I was thinking prick would be more appropriate.
“That’s one way to say it. I prefer asshole. But either works, I suppose.”
“So what happened between you two anyhow?”
Unlocking the door, she opened it up and stepped inside before me, no doubt buying time while she tried to decide if she wanted to go down memory lane with me right now. “He cheated on me.”
I couldn’t imagine anyone cheating on Maya. She was amazing. The more I got to know her the more I was in awe of her. There was still the feelings of friendship I’d retained from all those years ago, but there was something more now, a desire to know her intimately, in every single way.
“I couldn’t imagine anyone being worth the risk of losing you.”
Turning, she looked up at me, still standing in the doorway. She gave me a look, her brow lifted, fists on her hip, appearing to try to decide if I was messing with her or if I truly meant it.
“How could you even know that? You don’t even know me anymore.”
“I knew who you were before, and you’ve only seemed to get better over the years. I couldn’t imagine a man that snagged you ever wanting anyone else.”
A pretty, rosy blush colored her cheeks as she lowered my gaze to the floor between our feet. “Well, thank you.” The modesty was so damned endearing it made me ache for her in every way.
“I mean it.” Stepping up to her, I hooked my index finger under her chin and tilted my head up to look at me. “You’re an amazing woman, Maya.” Lowering my head, I ghosted my lips across hers, feeling my dick begin to rapidly thicken inside my jeans. Stepping all the way into the apartment, I kicked the door shut behind us.
The taste of her lips on mine felt divine. There was a hint of the white wine from dinner that still lingered on her soft as silk lips. She moaned softly—music to my ears, as she pressed herself against me, running her hands up the front of my jacket, unbuttoning it.
~*~ TT ~*~
Maya
His chest muscles flexed as my fingertips traced their hard lines, my lips parting to deepen the kiss. The heat between my legs that I’d been feeling earlier reignited, our little mishap at the park nothing more than a distant memory.
If I didn’t stop this, I had a feeling I knew where it would lead, but God help me the last thing I wanted to do was stop the feelings building up within me. As the heat between my legs increased, moistening my panties, I found I didn’t care. It was Christmas day, and I’d been devoid of tenderness and human affection for way too long.
While our tongues danced an exquisite routine that was leaving me light-headed, Dylan undid my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. The garment fell down my arms to pile at my feet. The franticness I was feeling to remove the barriers of fabric between us increased. Kicking my jacket to the side, I pushed his off and it soon joined mine.
He walked me backwards until I was pinned between his strong, muscular body and the kitchen island. Grabbing me at the waist, he lifted me up and onto the countertop so we were at eye level. His gray eyes were stormy as they stared into mine. The feelings I’d felt so many years ago for him came crashing back to me, leaving me breathless. I’d been in love with him back them, I’d loved him more than my teenaged heart could ever imagine possible and here I was being pulled violently back to feeling those same emotions.
But this time was different—this time he wanted me back. My fingers began to undo the buttons on his gray button-down shirt. Once the last was taken care of, I pushed it off his shoulders, clutching at the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it up and over his head, tossing it to the floor.
“You’re more defined than I remember,” I whispered, my eyes drinking in every hard line of muscle in his chest and torso. Even without flexing his abs, I could see the faint lines of definition. “You must live in the gym to look this good.”
He chuckled, brushing a lock of hair back and out of my face. “Nah, just years of hard labor.”
“Whatever it is, it works for you.”
His hand slipped down my face and to my neck, circling it. “You’re so damned beautiful, Maya. Everything about you. Breathtaking.”
I smiled. “You haven’t even seen me naked yet.” I was both teasing and challenging him to explore further. I’d spent two decades perfecting my body, both for vanity and because my career dictated it. Criminals didn’t give a shit if you were a chick or not when it came to fighting for their freedom. I had to be strong mentally and physically. Some men found my body too thick and muscular for their liking, preferring a dainty, softer woman.
His gaze dipped to my cleavage, straining against the low dip of my V-neck cotton shirt. “Is that an invitation or challenge?” Stepping into me, he nibbled at my jawline.
Pulses of need rushed down my spine, intensifying the throbbing between my legs. The anticipation gripped me, making me frantic to have a more intimate closeness with him, a closeness I’d been longing for and craving for over half my lifetime.
A long sigh escaped my lips as I tilted my head back allowing him access to the sensitive flesh of my neck. His teeth and tongue seemed to hit all the right spots. His lips worked their way down my neck as his hand slipped under my shirt, palming my right breast, teasing my nipple.
Lifting his head, he released my breast and pulled my shirt up and over my head, tossing it onto the counter next to me. My breasts filled out the black lace cup fully, straining against the spandex material.
“You’ve always had the most incredible tits.” He looked down at them appreciatively while running his index finger along the top of my breast, just above the bra line. God this man was the king of torture.
