Page 17 of Impossible Bachelor (Bachelor Tower 2)
She kisses her way down my bare chest to my stomach, and I stop her there. I want her mouth on my cock more than I want to breathe, but that’s not how I want to come for the first time with her. I halt her and make a side grab for a condom in my pants. It’s a pause neither of us welcomes, but part of not being a dick is respecting the big picture—and her.
College should also teach a course on that—maybe they do. Fuck, I can’t think straight anymore. I slide the condom on and dig a hand into her hair. One more roll and her knees are around my waist and the tip of my cock slides across her slit.
Her eyes are closed again, so I wait. I tease her with just my tip and whisper, “Kylie, look at me.”
She does, and I thrust into her. She gasps and opens her legs wider for me. I kiss her deeply, then thrust myself, balls deep into the glorious wet glove of hers. Again and again. Deeper and deeper. Fuck, she clenches around me with a strength I knew she’d have.
Her hands are magic. They’re everywhere I want them to be with a skill that, although it doesn’t surprise me, pleases me. I don’t want a virgin—I want an equal, and I’ve found one.
I pound into her, wilder and wilder until I hear her breath catch and she starts to warn me not to stop again. Don’t worry, baby, there’s no chance of that now. I hang on until she begins to whimper and shudder beneath me, then I release my load with one final thrust.
Holy fuck.
I ease onto my side and remove my condom, tossing it on the ground behind me. She collapses against me, and I hug her to my chest. Her lips brush across my neck. “Wow.”
“You can say that again.”
We have a moment or two of absolute afterglow bliss then she sits straight up. “Are we alone?” She reaches for her sweater as she asks.
“I’m seventy-five percent certain we are,” I joke.
She pulls the sweater on and reaches for her pants. “Oh, my God, what were we thinking?”
“I can only speak for myself.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her and am rewarded with a glare. I laugh. Pretend anger all you want, honey. I reluctantly reach for my jeans.
She throws my shirt at me. “This isn’t funny.”
“It’s also not a tragedy. Worst case: we just gave someone a lesson on how to do it right.” I put my shirt on.
One of my shoes flies by my head. I laugh again. “Unless you think you weren’t up to par and then we could do it again.”
She waves my other shoe at me. “You’re so lucky I don’t actually want to hurt you.”
I take the shoe from her hands. “Lucky, that is exactly how I’m feeling right now.” I pull her into my arms and kiss her until the fight leaves her and she winds her arms around my neck.
When I raise my head, she asks, “Do you know what doesn’t help a CFO? Pictures of her naked getting busy with a boy toy.”
My chest puffs. “Boy toy? I’m flattered. What can I call you?”
She opens her mouth to tell me, but I kiss her before she has a chance. It’s probably better if I don’t let her say something she’ll want to apologize for later.
When I lift my head, we’re both breathing raggedly again. Time for the cabin.
We finish getting dressed. I toss my condom in the trash. See, gentleman through and through.
Back at her side I can’t contain my grin. She’s trying to appear composed and in control, so I don’t mention the grass in her hair or the freshly fucked glow on her face. “The cabin is right down this path.” I hold out my hand to her.
She takes it.
There’s no need to rush. She’s mine. Now I want her to see that we can enjoy each other, and it doesn’t have to be awkward.
“Is that water down there?” she points to a clearing and cranes her neck to see better.
“It’s a little pond.”
I guide her down the path that leads to the water. The cabin can wait. The moon lights the way, but the little solar lights the staff put in don’t hurt either. I tell myself they did it before they left.
“The moonlight on the water is incredible. You don’t see this in the city.” When we’re close enough to fall in she stops.
I bend down and pick up a stone. A flat round rock with smooth edges. It’s sheer muscle memory that pulls my arm back just right and releases it with a flick of my wrist. The rock skips across the smooth surface of the water.
“Was that three times?” Kylie asks as she bends to find her own stone. “I used to be able to—” She stops and frowns.
“What is it?” I turn her toward me.
“Nothing.”
I tip her face up so she’s forced to meet my gaze. “I like you, Kylie. Not just because of what we shared back there. It’s your choice to believe that or not. There’s nothing you can tell me that will change that.”
“Really? You know what I was thinking? That I could skip it six times. Like that matters. Like beating you at rock skipping matters. That’s who I am, though. Sure you want to know the real me?”
“You’re competitive. News flash, everyone knows that. Yet here I am. Give it your best shot. I’m not afraid to lose to you—because we’re on the same side. If we do this right, anyway.” I take a step back so I can get a good view.
She looks around and chooses a stone. She does pretty well the first shot, it skips three times just like mine, but she’s not satisfied. She chooses another. “I used to try to get Penny to do this with me all the time, and she said I was so competitive I sucked the fun right out of it.”
I pick my next stone with more care and flick it. Five skips. “When I run I don’t pace myself against a walker. I like the energy of someone who just might be faster than I am.”
“Because you want the rush when you beat them.”
“Because even if I don’t, I’ve challenged myself beyond where I was before. It’s the same way in my job. I choose projects that matter to me, ones that teach me something or force me to recognize how much I have left to learn.”
“I like that.” She skips another stone and this time it matches my number. “What this really needs is a wager,” I tell her casually as I toss another one in, this time not even attempting to skip it across the surface.
“Does it?” She skips the next stone and this time it goes six full hops and nearly crosses the entire pond. Now she’s happy. “What do you have in mind?”
“Winner plans the next date.”
Her mouth rounds. “Next?”
“Or the next fuck. I’m open to either.” I toss another stone without even trying.
“How do you plan a fuck?”
“Someone always determines the when and where. If not, it just happens, for example, in the woods where anyone could see.”
“Funny.” She tosses another perfect six. “Sounds like you’re setting yourself up for another win-win scenario.”
I choose my next stone. “Scaredy cat.”
“What did you say?”
In a low tone, I say, “Bock, bock, bock.”
“You’re an ass.” She presses her lips together and my cock springs back to life.
I think it was six skips. Who knows? All it took was the word ass for my eyes to be drawn to hers as she bent down for her throw. Down boy, how am I going to win if I drain my ability to concentrate?
“Shit,” she said. “Four.”
I rub a hand over my chin. “I choose planning the next fuck as the prize.”
I bend over to toss a rock.
She whispers, “Don’t mess up, because I’d love to taste that cock of yours tonight.”
The rock hits the water with a plunk. I swing around and pull her to me. “Cheater.”
> Her eyes round in feigned innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”
A laugh rumbles out of me. She joins in.
I lift her in my arms and carry her up the path.
“Hey, I won,” she protests, but she’s still laughing.
“Then start planning.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Kylie
I’m not the kind of woman men carry around, but I’m also not the type who makes people laugh, yet Ben acts like I’m hilarious. I should demand he put me down. The entire date has been over the top.
If this was how my mother felt with my father—no wonder she let him drag her down as far as he did. Like a drug, feeling young and sexy is addictive. Who doesn’t want—what had Ben promised he’d do to me—to be swept off their feet?
That doesn’t mean I can’t be smart about this. I’m here. The sex is great. Ben is fun. None of that is inherently dangerous as long as I keep it contained. One night. Or a short series of nights. I’ve been blunt with him about how I date. I’ll tell him again if he needs to hear it.
Just not now.
This is the sex I’ve denied myself—wild, free, fun. I can go back to sane and safe tomorrow morning.
Ben has to lower me to my feet to unlock the door of the cabin. It’s quaint, the roof a steep pitch, making it look like a triangle. He opens the door, flips a light on, and it’s as unique on the inside. Exposed beams and wide cedar planks running the length of the room make it feel rustic even though it’s immaculate with modern furnishings.
“This place is booked a year in advance but luckily he had a cancelation.” There are candles dotted along the large stone hearth. He put a lot of thought into this. I don’t believe for a second it happened by chance.
“Did some poor couple get kicked out of here tonight?”
“If they did”—he smirks and reaches for matches to light the fireplace—“they were wildly overcompensated for the inconvenience.”
An hour earlier I would have pounced on him on the rug before the fire, but the desire I feel now is a slower burn. I am competitive, I guess. I want to rock his world the way he did mine. I wander to the bathroom door and snap my fingers. A large old-style claw tub. Perfect.
