Page 39 of Trust Me
“Nothing now. I’ll have to get up in four hours to check her temperature again.”
“You’re exhausted. Let’s go lie down.” He grabs me by the hands and starts pulling me toward my room at the end of the short hall. I’m wearing a comfy pair of yoga pants and a well-worn concert T-shirt. He slides my pants down, lifting my legs one at a time to have me step out,and removes my T-shirt and bra. He leaves my underwear on, which isn’t even a cute pair since I hadn’t had the time to change yet before Maddox arrived.
Maddox basically just saw me in my mom panties.
He slips off his own jeans, socks, and T-shirt, but takes his T-shirt and throws it over my head. I slide into his still warm T-shirt, which smells deliciously like him, all masculine soap and deodorant.
He takes me by the hands again and leads me toward my bed. “Come on, let’s go to sleep.” As we slip into bed and snuggle up close, my head resting on his chest, leg thrown over his leg, I can’t help but think about how comfortable this whole evening was. How content I am in this moment. “Good night, babe.”
“Night, Maddox.”
*****
My alarm goes off at one thirty in the morning so I can take Brooklyn’s temperature again. I disentangle myself from Maddox’s warm, sleeping body, head into the bathroom to grab the thermometer, and go to Brooklyn’s room to take her temp. One hundred two point seven. I headback into the bathroom to grab the Motrin. Once I’m able to rouse her enough from sleep to take the medicine, I head back into my room, resetting the alarm for five thirty.
“What’s her temp?” Maddox whispers without even opening his eyes.
“One hundred two point seven. I dosed her and she’s already back asleep.” I snuggle back up against his hardness. He’s so toned and muscular with broad shoulders and strong arms, chiseled face, and strong jaw, it’s like snuggling with a Greek god. I could get used to sleeping like this. I’ve never slept with anyone like this before. I never got to experience this when I was dating Drake. He hated to be touched while he slept.
“Good. Come here, you,” he says as he rolls over, cradling my body underneath his. He bends down and gives me a tender kiss. My body responds to his touch immediately. It doesn’t take long before our kisses turn needy, passionate. His hands roam under his T-shirt that I’m wearing to my bare skin underneath.
I run my hands up and down his back, feeling the muscles tighten with my touch. He places his knees between my legs, spreading them apart wider to accommodate his large body. When he presses his body down on top of mine, I feel how ready he is for me, and I moan at the contact. His lips are back on mine, hard andwith a fury, an urgency. I can tell he’s close to losing control.
His hurried hands remove the shirt I’m wearing and slide down my panties. Then he shucks his own boxer briefs. He reaches for his jeans on the floor and pulls a condom out of his pocket and starts to rip open the package, but I have other plans. “Let me,” I say, holding out my hand for the condom. His wild eyes lock back on mine as he hands me the little foil package. “Lie down on your back.”
He does as he’s told, and I rip open the package with my teeth. His shaft jerks as he watches my movements, his eyes going from dark brown to black with lust. I reach down and grab a hold of him and slowly, oh so slowly, begin to roll the condom on. “Shit, that feels so much better when you do it,” he says, his voice breathy and barely a whisper.
I resume my position, straddling his waist, and slowly sink down on top of him. He’s so big and hard and stretches me, filling me completely. Our moans are mixed together, and I can’t tell what sounds come from him and which come from me. I lean forward and take his lips in mine, my hair hanging down against his face, his chest. His hands that grip my hips border on the line of painand pleasure. I know I’m going to have marks tomorrow, but at this moment, I couldn’t care less. I devour his lips, raking my teeth over his lower lip, down his chin. I feel him shudder from the contact and it seems to ignite him even further.
I sit up as he starts to pump up into me; I’m riding him with abandon. As I feel the familiar tightening in my lower stomach, I throw my head back and bite my lip hard to keep from crying out too loudly. I practically see stars as the orgasm rips through my entire body. His hands tighten on my hips further and he thrusts up into me a few more times before finding his own release.
I lie down on his chest, Maddox still buried deep inside me. Our sweaty, heaving chests are pressed tightly together, our breath mixing together in a wild pant.
“That was fucking amazing,” he says.
“Uh huh.” I’m still working on getting my heart rate back down to a semi-normal pace, so I close my eyes and just listen to the sound of his erratic heartbeat against my head.
The next thing I know, my alarm is going off again. I start to stir but realize I’m being held firmly against something very warm and very hard. It’s Maddox. I’m sleeping on his chest, my legs still straddling him, his arms firmly aroundme. He’s also still inside me. I start to wiggle to try to slip out of his embrace without waking him, but it’s useless. He has a firm hold on me.
“Just a few more minutes,” he whispers as I start to feel him stir to life inside of me.
“I can’t. I have to check Brooklyn’s temperature.” My response gets an immediate reaction from him. He lets go with his arms and pulls out of my body.
“I’ll throw this out and help you,” he says, palming the condom in his hand.
“No, go back to sleep. It’s early.”
“I want to help.” He reaches for his boxers that were discarded on the floor and slips them on before walking over to the door. He slowly opens it up, peeking out into the hallway as if to make sure no one is watching him exit the room. He heads over to the bathroom and shuts the door. I finish throwing back on Maddox’s T-shirt and my panties and head toward the bathroom. Maddox is opening the door as I approach, and he hands me the thermometer.
Once inside of Brooklyn’s room, I take her temperature quickly with the ear thermometer. One hundred and one. “Well, at least it’s not going up right now,” I say as I feel my daughter’sforehead. She’s sweaty and her cheeks are rosy, which I take as a good sign that she’s trying to sweat it out. I go ahead and wake her up enough to give her another dose of Tylenol. When she opens her eyes, she spots Maddox standing in the doorway and smiles. I freeze.
“Maddox is here,” she mumbles with that sweet little smile on her face, oblivious to the fact that he’s standing there in his underwear.
“Yep, I just wanted to make sure you were starting to feel better,” he responds.
“Will you snuggle wiff me?” she asks in all her three-year-old innocence.
Oh, this is bad. Will she remember that he was here and tell someone? Will she ask me tons of questions I’m not prepared to answer?
