up in my shirt, holding me tight like she’s afraid to let go as she slowly rubs against me.
“Nolan…” She whispers my name as a plea, and right now I’ll give in to anything she asks me. “I need…”
She doesn’t have to say anything.
I know what she needs.
Because I fucking need it too.
Without thinking too hard about it, I break our contact long enough to pull her shirt over her head. Her hands are on me again the moment it’s gone.
I stare down at her as she peers up at me with lustful eyes, her tits hanging out in all their glory.
And they are glorious, too, the pink of her nipples matching her lips like I thought they would.
She’s gorgeous, even when she blushes under my watchful gaze.
I hold her stare as I trace a single finger over the hardened buds, and I’m rewarded with another shudder.
“Beautiful,” I mutter before I give in and close my mouth around her.
She groans and clutches the back of my head, holding me to her, and I nearly come right then.
I switch to her other breast, nipping and lapping at the sensitive peaks. I don’t know how long I spend going back and forth—I could do it all fucking day—but I don’t miss the way her breathing stutters and she’s writhing against the counter, searching for more contact.
I’m more than willing to oblige.
I trail kisses back to her lips, covering her whimpers with my mouth, and finger the waist of her leggings.
When she realizes what I’m wanting, she tips her hips toward me, more than eager for my touch.
I slip my fingers into the band and—
Ring! Ring! Ring!
Maya freezes.
And reality crashes back down around us.
With reluctance, I drag my mouth away from hers, the cold slamming into me as I step away from her warmth. My hands itch to hold her again, so I put as much space between us as possible, resting against the counter opposite her, working to catch my breath.
She sits wide-eyed, lips swollen from my kisses and topless. Her chest is rising and falling in quick succession, her face flushed from the orgasm she was on the verge of.
Her phone rings again, and she springs into action, racing across the apartment to answer it.
“Hello?” she says. “Oh, shit. Yes, okay. I’m on my way.”
There’s shuffling in the other room, and when she comes back out, she’s wearing jeans and a new shirt.
“Sam forgot his project that’s due next period…” she explains, heading for the door and pulling on her shoes. She slings her purse over her shoulder. When her hand falls to the doorknob, she pauses and glances at me. “Nolan, I…” She licks her lips. “I—”
“Go,” I tell her. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Her teeth find her bottom lip again in the move that drives me wild, and she nods once.
Then, she’s gone.
And I’m left wondering what the fuck we just did.
Something is happening, and I’m not sure how to handle it.
I like having Sam around.
I’ve never been one for kids in the past, but having him here hasn’t been as horrible as I thought it would be. Like Maya said, he spends most of the time in his bedroom playing video games. If he’s not in there talking to his friends—surprisingly, he doesn’t yell or get upset like I’ve seen kids do in those viral videos—he’s watching something on Netflix in the living room.
He’s a good kid. Funny. A little gullible, but it’s part of his charm.
We’ve had fun together this past week, and I’m surprised to find I’m a little sad he’s leaving for his dad’s right now.
Patrick is standing in the entryway, hands tucked into the pockets of his peacoat.
I’m leaning against the kitchen counter, watching him.
Maya’s not here. She called me earlier to tell me Patrick wanted to make up for last weekend and pick Sam up a little early. She warned me she might not be home in time to see her son off.
She sounded both happy and sad about it.
I wanted to ask her what was up with that, but I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. Especially not after what happened the other day when I plowed right through them.
I still can’t get the way she writhed on the countertop beneath me out of my head, her orgasm within reach as I lapped at her perfect fucking tits, the same counter my hands are resting on…
“This is a nice building,” he says to me, pulling me from the memory that lives at