I shift back and forth on my feet, uncomfortable under her gaze. “What?”
The corners of her lips tip up, and she shakes her head. “Nothing. I just…well, thank you.”
“I don’t need to be thanked for telling the truth.”
And I don’t. What her ex did…that’s wrong.
I saw how hard my father worked to keep our little family going. If her ex-husband was as flaky then as he is now, I know she was working as hard to keep her family together.
She deserved better than what he gave her.
Her lips part, like she’s going to say something else, then thinks better of it.
We’re quiet as we finish our lunch, no sound other than our spoons scraping against the bowls.
When we’re done, I collect the dirty dishes, rinse them, and drop them into the dishwasher.
“So,” Maya says from her perch on the counter, “other than making a bomb-ass grilled cheese, any other talents I should know about?”
“I can vibrate my eyes.”
“Shut up. No you can’t.”
“Can too. See?” I make my eyes shake back and forth, something I learned I could do at an early age and used to impress girls…until I realized I wasn’t special and shitloads of people could do it.
She squints, stretching forward to see. “I don’t see anything.”
I cross the short space between us, and she leans forward again.
“See?” I do it again and she gasps, slapping at me playfully. “Told you.”
“That’s a neat little party trick. How’d you learn that?”
I shrug. “No idea, but ten-year-old me used to do it all the time to impress the ladies. Did it work?”
“It’s not bad.” She giggles, and her fingers flex against me.
I realize then her hand is still on my chest. I glance down to where she’s touching me, and her fingers work against my muscle again, pinching at my shirt.
She does it again, and I gulp.
I should walk away. Put as much distance between us as possible.
But I don’t.
Her mouth opens with a breathy gasp as I put my hand on her calf. Slowly, I trail my fingers up her leg. She doesn’t take her eyes off my touch, and I don’t take mine off hers. Not even when I skim my hand over her knee and up her thigh.
It’s fucking ridiculous. It’s a simple touch.
But it feels like so much more, especially when her fingers curl into my shirt and she drags me closer until I’m right between her legs.
She pinches her eyes shut tight, then exhales heavily, and I don’t dare move, too afraid I’m going to spook her.
When she finally opens her eyes, she’s staring right at me…and she’s begging me to do the one thing I’ve been wanting to do for over a week straight now.
Kiss her.
I’m not dumb enough to let the opportunity pass me by.
I crash my lips to hers, and she melts into me, sighing like she’s been waiting for this moment for a lifetime.
I close the last of the distance between us, curling one hand around her waist and sliding the other into her messy bun, dragging her to the edge of the counter. My cock brushes against her pussy and I swallow her moan.
Her hands fist my shirt, holding on to me like I’m holding on to her—desperately.
Our mouths move together in a slow kiss as we find a rhythm with our hips, rubbing against one another like horny teens.
I brush the pad of my finger against her skin where her shirt has ridden up. She’s soft and warm and feels so damn good. I inch my way up under her shirt, skidding my fingers over her, loving the way her skin rises against my touch. I’m pleased to find she never put a bra on as I cup her tit, brushing my thumb across her nipple. She shudders at the touch and groans into my mouth again.
I do it again.
And again.
She’s so responsive, and I want nothing more than to rip this fucking sweater from her body and bury my face between her tits.
A wet spot forms on my sweats. I don’t know if it’s from my leaking dick or her soaking through her leggings, and fuck if that thought doesn’t take me closer to the edge.
If we don’t stop soon, I’m going to embarrass myself.
Not wanting to stop touching her, I pull my lips from hers and nip my way over her jaw as she gulps in air. Her fingers are still wrapped