Midnight Sommelier - Anne Malcom Page 0,49

growl.

He came apart in front of my eyes.

And I loved it.

We’d been quiet for a long time.

Mostly because I’d lost the ability to speak.

I’d been screwed senseless.

And I’d like to think that Zeke had been screwed senseless too, because I’d played an active part in the evening. I was so tired I was sure that having sex more than once a night was just some kind of myth created by rom coms, something to make women feel unsatisfied and men feel inferior.

Beyond that, I didn’t think I wanted to have sex multiple times a night. It sounded exhausting on both me and my vagina. If a man knew how to do something right, what was the point of doing it more than once?

Sure, I’d had fantasies about wild, endless nights of sex and orgasms, but I’d considered myself smart enough to know they were just fantasized, brought on by some kind of hormone imbalance.

And here I was, lying in an unfamiliar bed, tangled in sheets that smelled like sex and Zeke, my body throbbing, my soul spent.

Zeke was behind me, naked. His arm was on my stomach, pulling me against his warm body.

He wasn’t asleep though. His breathing was too even, grip too tight.

“We need to lay out some ground rules,” I said as soon as I was able. My voice was rough and full of evidence of all the muffled screaming I’d been doing.

At some point, Zeke had assured me Luna’s bed was on the other side of the house and the walls were thick, but I wasn’t about to take that chance. I wasn’t exactly a screamer at the best of times. That was something else I’d pegged as a myth perpetuated by pornos.

Yet another myth the man behind me had busted.

The hand at my stomach flexed ever so slightly and he moved me so I was now flat on my back while he hovered above me.

There was one bedside lamp on in the room, enough to give me the dim outline of his face, show the intensity of his gaze. “Ground rules?” he repeated.

I clenched my teeth. Took a breath. “About this. About us. I’m assuming you don’t want this to be a one-night thing.”

His brows furrowed. “No, I’m far from fucking done with you.”

Cue the stomach dip that had aching thighs clenching together with need. “Okay,” I said after a beat. “Well, I don’t want this to be a one-night thing either.” The admission was painful, but I had to breathe through it. Move past it. “I’m also not ready for anything more than this. Than sex. I’m barely ready for that.” I hadn’t meant to say that last part. Hadn’t meant the emotion, hurt, and vulnerability to leak in.

Throughout the post-coital silence we’d been enduring, I’d been making plans, thinking out what could happen from here. And the only way this could work was to ensure it was just sex. That I didn’t share parts of myself with Zeke, didn’t look for him to do the same. That I kept my emotional distance above all else.

Less than a minute into the conversation and I was letting myself sound like some sad pathetic widow.

I was aiming for a strong, independent broken woman only capable of giving her body and nothing else.

“No one can know,” I continued. “Not the kids, not anyone. It’s just ... us. Just midnight.”

He was quiet for a long time. Brushed my hair from my face. “As long as I get you in the darkness.” His hand moved from my belly, then all the way down.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

“I’ll take you, I’ll muffle your screams with my mouth, ruin your body. Then I’ll send you home before the sun rises.”

And he did that.

Tonight.

And the next.

And the next.

Two Weeks Later

“Where are you going?”

“Shit!” I hissed, jumping with the voice I didn’t expect and definitely not at the proximity I expected.

“Jesus, babe, it’s just me,” Zeke said, frowning, his hands going to my hips to steady me.

My body reacted to the touch … to the ‘babe’... to him.

I should’ve been used to this by now. To him. I was with him almost every night. Naked. I’d crawled out of his bed in the early hours of this morning. Yet my thighs clenched and my chest tightened at the sight of him, at him touching me.

In broad daylight.

With nosy neighbors around.

I couldn’t have them seeing this. Talking. Judging.

But I didn’t move.

“Why are you so jumpy?” he asked.

“I’m not jumpy,” I snapped