Page 31 of Mom-Com
Then her hands were moving again and I brought her lips back to mine. A sharp tug split us apart a moment later as the top button of my shirt flew to the side. She’d ripped my shirt. I looked at her in shock, loving her aggression, yes, but also a little nervous. She giggled, her lips red and swollen. From me.
“I can fix that, I swear,” she gasped, then went back to tugging on my shirt, two more buttons pinging off to hit the floor.
Her intent was clear. She wanted to destroy my shirt.
She wanted me naked.
13
Lily-Marie
Oh, he was good.
The song? The dancing? The kiss?
It was like Jameson was inside my mind, experiencing the same dream that still played through my head even days later. How else could he have come over playing the same damn song from the same movie I’d been stuck in? Only the supercharged sexy version. Like he was enchanted too and couldn’t wait another minute to make it real.
I’d been horrified and embarrassed to wake up and realize I’d had a sex dream about my neighbor. A really good one too. One doesn’t just wake up from a dream in the middle of a real-life orgasm unless it had been one hell of a dream.
Jameson was my Prince Charming?
No way. He barely got his nose out of his textbooks long enough to observe the outside world. There was no way he knew how to sweep a woman off her feet. Well, that’s what I thought until he’d shown up at my door with a proverbial boombox and played my favorite song, looking better than any scientist should with his dark frown and dress shirt open to show off just the barest hint of strong chest, a sprinkling of hair I wanted to see again. This time without my children to witness the striptease.
The beat of the song, the way he just pulled me in and took control lit a fire in my belly I’d observed in the movies but had never personally experienced. I’d been intrigued when he acted jealous at the restaurant the other night. Quite playful actually, seeing how I could push his buttons and get him to intervene. But this? This display was something else entirely.
He fisted my hair and tilted my head back, my lips served on a platter for him to take as he wished. And take he did. There was no tentative nibbling or testing, just a thorough devouring that heated my blood and warmed not just my cheeks. Little shocks of electricity shot through my body, making my muscles spasm. He held me so close I didn’t fear falling, even after that dip that nearly took me to the ground.
This was like no kiss I’d ever been a part of. The crazy part was that it was better than the kiss in my dream. He was here, right below my fingertips, the press of his body begging me to join in.
My hands slid down his back, enjoying the girth of his shoulders and the line of muscles that ran down his spine to his trim waist. Then I found even greener pastures: the tight butt I’d seen in those tight bicycle shorts. Before I could think it through, I grabbed as much as I could and squeezed. He was shocked, slipping his mouth from mine with a quick intake of breath, and quite frankly, so was I. I don’t recall ever groping a man’s ass before, but hey, I’d never laid my eyes, or hands, on Jameson’s. I wasn’t sorry. In fact, I was planning to do it again.
But that break from his lips gave my eyes a chance to take in that triangle of skin above his shirt. My hands were redirected.
Before I could think better of it, the first button popped off his shirt, flying who the hell knew where. I learned exactly what force was necessary to rip a man’s shirt from his body. I tucked that information into the back of my brain, secretly thrilled with myself. Jameson also seemed thrilled if the hard line digging into my stomach was any indication. His eyes looked a little skittish, but with each button that tore off, the line grew and hardened, quite like Pinocchio’s nose. Part of me wanted to keep going just to see when this little growth spurt would stop. But alas, Jameson was out of buttons.
The Promised Land was before me and I didn’t hesitate to jump right in. Fisting the material in my hands, I pulled his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, frustrated by the cuffs that kept his shirt from revealing his entire upper body to me. The song ended, but we didn’t care, too into each other to bother with a soundtrack.
He let me go, unbuttoning the cuffs and tossing the shirt aside, but still he towered over me, his stare pinning me in place. He didn’t need to stare me down. I wasn’t going anywhere. I had muscles to feel and veins to trace. There could be a five-alarm fire in my kitchen with those hot firemen coming to save me and I still wouldn’t have stepped away from Jameson’s hot body.
“You have a lot of sewing to do,” Jameson muttered under his breath.
My hands slid their way up his flat stomach, doing another quick count of each ab muscle, then across his chest and up to his shoulders.
“Don’t care. Kiss me.”
His hands came back around to my backside and he lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing. His lips crashed back onto mine and I was transported to another place, where Prince Charming took his princess and made her his. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on tight.
When my back hit a hard surface, I fluttered my eyes open, confused, wondering if I was back in my dream and flat against a tree. My living room came into view, my body pressed between Jameson’s and the wall, the one I’d painted just last year a lovely light gray.
“Drywall is so much better than bark,” I whispered against his lips.
He kissed his way down my neck. Between kisses and nips he asked, “What are you talking about?”
My entire head was about to lift off my neck from the pleasure coursing through my body. With nowhere to retreat, his cock was straining against his pants and putting pressure between my open legs, right where I desperately wanted him. A gasp escaped my mouth at the realization this was my exact dream, coming to life in suburbia.
His hips shifted and I struggled to breathe. His mouth was back, nibbling on my lip. His hands cupped my breasts, the tips of which brushed against his chest, adding to the fire that built inside of me. He was everywhere, yet I craved more.
“More, more...” I chanted in my head. I knew where this went. My dream outlined what came next.
