Page 32 of Mom-Com
Right on cue, he pulled the strap of my dress off my shoulder and tugged the material down, exposing the left side of my bra. I cursed my inability to plan ahead and wear my sexy bra. The one that was all lace and itchy skin irritation, yet perfectly ready for dates that never actually saw it. The standard tan satin one that had seen better days would have to do. Didn’t seem to slow Jameson down. He didn’t give it more than a passing glance before that too was tugged down. His head dipped and he latched onto my nipple, the tugging continuing, all the way to where he ground against my panties.
Pinned between him and the wall, all I could do was hold on to his shoulders and enjoy the ride. His hips kept rocking into my core, his cock finding the perfect spot. His tongue kept flicking my nipple, and if he just kept going for a minute or two longer, I’d orgasm with a man for the first time in years.
I closed my eyes and went to the forest, where my prince was about to drop his pants and impale me. Goddamn, that was hot. Quick breaths puffed out my mouth. I was so close.
“Mmm...Phillip.”
Everything stopped.
“No, no. Keep going. Please.” This wasn’t how the dream went. I should be hearing a belt buckle hit the floor any second now.
Instead, I opened my eyes to Jameson staring at me wide-eyed. His hair was in a sexy disarray, probably from my fingers, though I didn’t recall grabbing him. A muscle ticked in his jaw and I stared at it, stunned and confused. Where was I? More importantly, where was my orgasm?
“It’s Jameson.” He spoke loudly, his voice harder than what had stopped rocking against me just a few seconds too early.
My lungs constricted like I’d run a 5k, or even just a mile, who was I kidding? I shook my head. “I know you’re Jameson. Why’d you stop?”
He pulled back and I locked my legs tighter around his waist. He gave me a look, one I’d seen him give Stein a thousand times. But I wasn’t a naughty eight-year-old. I was a thirty-two-year-old single mom who wanted her orgasm, goddammit. He pulled back again, a little harder this time. I gritted my teeth and held on, determination my middle name. My back slid down the wall the more he stepped back.
And then I was sliding too fast, the back of my head the only thing still in contact with the wall. Jameson’s worried face was above me, trying to keep me from falling, but he could barely move, what with my legs around his waist. My neck screamed at me and I finally stopped my descent only to be bent backward with Jameson above me, one hand under my back and one hand against the wall to hold us both up.
“Fuck, Lily-Marie. Let go.” He barked the order that time and shit if I knew what was wrong with me, but I couldn’t help the shiver that traced up my spine. Where did Jameson go and who was the commanding Don Juan in his place?
“Okay, but I go in protest.” Yes, that’s right. I was a girl who liked to have the last word. But I obeyed, unlocking my ankles and sliding my legs down to the ground.
He pulled us both up and I circled my head, trying to relieve my aching neck.
His gaze was fierce, perfectly complementing the ripped torso that was pumping air in and out of its lungs in greedy gulps. His dress pants stretched tight over the bulge in his pants that remained. So that wasn’t the problem. He clearly wanted me.
“Why?” I whispered out loud.
He swiped a hand through his hair and looked away for a moment. His gaze lowered to my chest and I was suddenly aware that my breast was still out, valiantly trying to point at him, but mostly pointing at the ground, which seemed wildly inappropriate at the moment. I remembered quickly I was a mom of two children and things didn’t look the way they had when I was twenty. Hadn’t seemed to matter in the heat of things, but now in the cold light of day, I didn’t really feel all that confident. Reaching up, I tucked her back in and straightened my dress with all the bravado I could muster.
When I was done, he looked me in the eye and answered me. “I wasn’t going to give you an orgasm while you called me by another man’s name. Was that your ex? Phillip?”
I was stunned. Phillip? When had I said that name? I sure as shit hadn’t been thinking of my ex, that was for damn sure. My cheeks flamed when I realized I’d been caught between reality and my dream. For a moment there I must have said Phillip’s name. Prince Phillip. FromSleeping Beauty.
I dropped my head to hide my smile, confident Jameson would not appreciate my mirth right now. When I had my facial muscles under control, I looked back up.
“No. That’s not my ex’s name, nor any man I’ve ever been with. I promise.” I swallowed, hoping he’d believe me. Without me having to explain my sex dream.
He held my gaze for a moment and then scooped his shirt off the ground. He didn’t look at me again while he put it on. “Okay.”
A weight landed on my chest and I couldn’t let him leave like this. I was orgasmless, but I wasn’t heartless. I stepped toward him and put my hand on his arm.
“Wait, Jameson. It’s not what you think. Can I be honest with you?” My heart beat wildly, realization dawning that I was getting ready to spill a long-held secret. No one else knew the extent of my obsession with movie princesses except Gabby, and even she didn’t know about my sexy dream. My obsession seemed juvenile and ridiculous, but I couldn’t let him walk away upset with me. Or think that make-out session wasn’t as monumental to me as it really was.
He huffed out a breath. “I always want you to be honest with me.” His gaze lifted from my hand on his arm to my eyes. A small win, but I’d take it, letting it bolster my confidence enough to spill my guts.
“Well, you may regret saying that when you hear this.” I chuckled nervously. He didn’t lose the frown, but he did nod slightly, so I took that as another good sign. “So, I have this obsession. I love Disney princess movies.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I froze. Was he actually inside my dream? I’d only been joking—sort of—when I’d questioned if he’d been part of my dream. Was that even possible? Who was I kidding? That was not at all in the realm of believability. Right?
“Wait. How do you know?”
“Clark told me.” His classic frown was back and I resisted the urge to reach out and smooth his eyebrows. Relief flooded me and I chastised myself for being ridiculous and thinking he’d actually been a part of my dream. That was impossible, Lil, get a grip.
