Page 44 of Catching Mr. Right

“Yeah.”

She shakes her head and plasters a fake smile on her face. “Never mind.”

As if I’m not going to spend the rest of the evening hoping she’ll come back around and tell me whatever she has on her mind. No point dwelling though. I clap my hands together as I head to the fridge. “Okay, I’m going to make you the best lamb sandwich you’ve ever had. And then we can do whatever you want. There’s a TV in the room I’m staying in so we can watch a movie or just talk. Anything you want.”

“That sounds good.” She steals a scrap of meat from the container as soon as I take the lid off. “Maybe, could I stay the night? Sleep over?”

My pulse speeds up. My cock pounds and gets so fucking hard. “In the spare room?”

“In your bed with you,” she says, lacing her fingers with mine. “I just need to be with you.”

Trapping her fingers, I sweep her between my torso and the counter. My other hand cups her jaw as I kiss her. With a whimper, she sinks against my chest, her hand grasping a fist full of my shirt. This relationship of ours doesn’t feel fake, and I don’t want it to be. I let go of her hand, and she curls her arm around my neck as I smooth my palms down her hips and pick her up. “Tell me to put you down. Tell me you want your sandwich and bad TV and to top and tail. Tell me that I’m being too serious and too literal and that you didn’t mean it those other times we talked about—”

“Cas.” She slaps her hand across my mouth. “I want to be with you. Now. However you’ll have me.”

“Fuck, Mandy.” I turn and march from the kitchen still carrying her, still eating up her mouth and stroking one hand through her hair. My long strides take up the space between us and some privacy, where I’ll be able to tear off her ridiculously sexy tutu. Where I’ll be able to strip her naked and touch and taste every inch of her. I’ll have her in whatever way she wants to give herself to me.

Without breaking our kiss, we enter my room and I close the door while setting her on her feet. My heart beats so damn hard. My muscles tremble. I never expected to end up in this situation after what happened with Juliette. Not with anyone. Vowed I wouldn’t.

Fuck, she’s worth it though. Every damn flutter of nerves. Every shaky breath. Every terrifying moment. My need to be with Mandy is so much stronger than my memories. Not that they’ll ever fade away completely, but she makes me want to take a chance on living. And on sex. This night won’t end like that one did.

Her hands tug at my T-shirt, yanking it up over my abs to my shoulders, until I grab it from her and pull it over my head to toss in the corner. I toe off my boots as I stalk her toward the bed. She’s all smiles and glittering green eyes, hard breaths and tight nipples. I grasp her wings. Bright, colorful tulle that feels so fragile in my hands and leaves a smattering of that silver glitter on my skin.

She yelps as she stops backing up so it doesn’t tear. “Let me.”

I nod as I let go of them, and she slips the elastic that holds the wings in place off her shoulders and sets them on top of the dresser before she squares up to me. Brave girl. Irrepressible. Christ, I want her.

I sink to my knees and take her tutu with me to the floor. All that damn filmy fabric is surprisingly rough against my fingertips. Dropping it on the carpet, I wind my hand around her thigh and bring her to stand in front of me.

Mouth pursed, she touches my hair, my face, my jaw. “What are you doing down there?”

“You know what I’m doing.” My voice comes out all guttural and raw. My fingers find the inside of her thigh and slide higher. The white material between them is wet and partly see-through. She’s wearing black panties under her body suit. Lace. Damn.

“Why are you taking so long?” She wiggles and wriggles and that white body suit is off her arms and being peeled from her torso and over her hips. I pull it down her legs, and she steps out of it without kicking off her pink wedges. Grabbing my hand, she puts it on the front of her panties and grinds against the heel of my palm. “I’m already wet and ready for you.”

“Fuck, girl. Can’t you let me lead for once without asking questions?” I’m not going to rush this with her. She’s seen the size of me, knows my history. And maybe what happened in the past isn’t pertinent here, tonight, but I’m not going to blow this night with her because she always needs to have her own way.

“I’m nervous.” She blushes. “Is that normal?”

“For you?” I smirk as I pull her panties down her legs.

She slaps at my shoulder, clings to me. “You have to tell me if I suck at it.”

“We’ll practice. As many times as you want.”

“Should we see how this time goes?” She’s watching me intently, her green eyes dark and incredibly wide. The same way she looked at me while I held her against the tree out in the forest before I put my mouth to her pussy for the first time.

“I have to make this good for you.” As good as it can be. Surging up, I take her hand, kiss the palm and lower it to my belt. “You tell me what you want.”

A giant grin breaks across her face as she leads me by my belt to the bed. Crawling onto it backward without breaking eye contact, she kneels in front of me and nips at my jaw.

“Careful.” I thumb one diamond sharp point through the lace cup of her bra. “Or I’ll change my mind.”

“About sleeping with me?” she asks, yanking until the buckle comes undone.

“Fuck no. About how we get to the point where you’re wrapped up in my arms, your head on my chest, probably snoring or dribbling. You’re a dribbler, aren’t you?”

“I am not. I’m delightful.” She pops the button on my fly, works the zip down. The metallic click of the tines coming undone fills the room.

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