The Perfect Fit (Riley O'Brien & Co. #2.5) (12 page)

To Margo’s surprise, he had answered her question. He’d said his relationship with his ex-wife was “complicated.” Margo knew what that really meant—his feelings for Andrea were complicated.

He’d said that he and Andrea had a lot of history—sixteen years, to be specific. And then he’d pointed out that he and his ex-wife had started dating when Margo was seven years old. She had no idea why that thought had crossed his mind.

It wasn’t just the constant phone calls that made Margo wonder if Zeke was still in love with his ex-wife, although she had noticed that he no longer talked to Andrea in front of her. Now, he excused himself and retreated to his bedroom. He clearly wanted his conversations to be private.

A couple of days ago, Margo had come home from work to find him sitting at the dining room table with the box of pictures from the storage closet on the barstool next to him. He had been looking through the photos, an expression on his face that Margo could only describe as wistful.

When he had noticed Margo, he’d immediately tossed the pictures back into the box and closed the cardboard flaps. Pretending not to know what was inside the box, she had asked him what he was doing. He hadn’t answered; he’d just picked up the box and carried it to his bedroom.

That incident had made Margo question her intelligence. A smart woman would start looking for another place to live.

Even if Zeke wasn’t in love with Andrea, that didn’t mean he would fall in love with Margo and want to share his life with her. Could she change his mind?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to try. She didn’t want to have to convince him to be with her. She wanted him to come to her with an open heart, wanting to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him.

As she sat in the dark, listening to his breathing, she wondered how much longer she would be able to share an apartment with Zeke. Only a masochist would continue to live with him, unwilling to give up on the dream of them being together.

She scooted down in the bed until her head rested on the pillow. Turning onto her side, she gazed at Zeke’s shadowed profile.

Last week, he’d flown to Las Vegas for a supply chain and logistics conference. It had been the first time he’d gone out of town since she’d moved in, and she had been alarmed by how lonely she’d felt.

When he had called unexpectedly, just to say hi, she had been so excited that she’d blurted out, “I miss you so much!” After a long, awkward pause, he’d said, “I need to run, Go-go. I’ll text you later.”

Lying beside him, she was more afraid than she had ever been. She was afraid she wouldn’t be happy with anyone but Zeke. And she was afraid he would never feel the same way about her.

Lightly, she placed her hand on his chest. His skin was hot, and the springy hair on his chest tickled her fingers. She could feel the thump of his heart under her palm, strong and steady, just like him.

He had said he wasn’t the right man for her. But that was only true if she wasn’t the right woman for him.

She thought they were the perfect fit.

Roby had slept with him again last night. Through the covers, Zeke could feel the dog’s warmth against his side. Fortunately, he had woken up before the Doberman. Otherwise, his face would be covered in dog slobber.

The scent of cherries and vanilla lingered in the air, and Zeke inhaled greedily. He loved the smell of Margo’s shampoo. It literally made his mouth water.

She makes your mouth water,
a voice inside him whispered.

He silently acknowledged that the voice was right. The proof was in his boxer briefs. The thought of Margo made his morning wood more like morning iron.

As he took another breath of deliciously fragrant air, he wondered why he smelled Margo instead of Roby. That was weird. Had she used her shampoo to bathe her dog?

Opening his eyes, he turned his head toward the wall of windows. Grayish-white light brightened the room, enough for him to see that Roby wasn’t in bed with him … Margo was.

He blinked slowly, sure he was imagining her. But she was still there when he opened his eyes. She was sound asleep, lying on her side on top of the covers. Her face was only inches away from his, her skin luminous in the morning light.

Why is she here, in bed with me?

Carefully, he rolled onto his right side, trying not to wake her. Her peachy-pink lips parted slightly, and he barely suppressed the urge to lean forward and taste them.

Her eyelids fluttered before lifting slowly. He stared into her sleepy eyes, a gorgeous color that reminded him of the Blue Star hyacinths his mother had planted in her garden.

Margo’s eyes widened. “Oh, no,” she breathed.

She jerked backward, and he clamped his forearm over her waist to keep her from escaping. He splayed his hand over her lower back, letting his fingers graze the waistband of her panties.

“What are you doing in my bed, Go-go?”

“Umm…” She licked her lips. “Umm…”

He waited for a few seconds before saying, “Umm is not an answer.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep here. I planned to go back to my room.”

He rubbed his fingertips over the lace of her panties. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Just as she opened her mouth to provide an answer, he realized the covers were bunched between them. His entire body was exposed … including his stump. Horrified, he grabbed for the sheet, desperate to cover his lower body.

“Zeke, stop,” she ordered softly, wrapping her hand over his. “You don’t have to hide from me. I know about your leg. I’ve known about it for months.”

Stunned, he brought his gaze to hers. “You have?”

She nodded. “A few weeks after I moved in, Roby woke me up in the middle of the night. I thought someone had broken in, but it was because you were having a nightmare. He wouldn’t leave you. He kept scratching at the door, so finally, I let him in. That’s when I saw your leg.”

He couldn’t believe what she was telling him. Questions ping-ponged inside his head.

Lightly caressing his fingers with hers, she said, “Whenever you have a nightmare, he wakes me up, and I let him into your room so he can sleep with you. Last night, he couldn’t calm you down, so I stayed with you instead.”

She had known about his leg all this time? She knew about his nightmares? Roby couldn’t open doors on his own?

“If you knew about my leg, why didn’t you say something about it?”

“Why didn’t you?” she countered.

“Because I want you to treat me like a normal guy. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“You are a normal guy.”

Oh, shit.
He hadn’t meant to say those things out loud.

“And I don’t feel sorry for you.” Under her breath, she mumbled, “Right now, I feel sorry for myself.”

Baffled by her comment, he asked, “Why do you feel sorry for yourself?”

She huffed in obvious frustration. “Because I’m in your bed, Zeke, and you haven’t even noticed that I’m almost naked.”

Glancing down, he eyed her breasts. Her tight black camisole barely contained the plump mounds.

“I noticed,” he assured her.

She slid her hand between their bodies. “I noticed something, too,” she murmured, brushing her knuckles against his cotton-covered erection.

Jesus.

All the blood rushed from his head and pooled in his groin. A half-naked woman was in bed with him—a woman he wanted desperately. Before he’d met her, he hadn’t known what it was like to feel this way.

She knew about his leg. She knew about his nightmares. And she still wanted to have sex with him.

He wasn’t going to waste any more time talking. He could think of a lot of other things he’d rather do with his mouth.

He rolled onto his back, hooked an arm around her hips, and pulled her on top of him. Her full breasts flattened against his chest, and his hard-on nestled into the notch of her thighs.

Reaching up, he tugged the elastic band from her ponytail. Shiny, fragrant strands created a curtain around their faces. He threaded his fingers through her hair and brought her mouth to his. She sighed when their lips touched, a tiny exhale that sounded like pleasure and relief combined.

He’d been fantasizing about her mouth for weeks now. The taste of it. The feel of it. The wet heat of it as she sucked on his tongue and his dick.

And now, he devoured it, biting and licking her lips until she pulled her head back, gasping for air. He gave her a moment before diving back in.

Her lips fell open, and he dipped his tongue inside, moaning as he got a taste of her … sweet and earthy, like maple syrup. He licked and savored, touching his tongue to hers, sliding it against hers, sucking hers into his mouth.

Releasing her lips, he trailed his mouth across her jaw toward her neck. She tilted her head back, giving him access to the sensitive skin. With his tongue, he found the frantic flutter of her pulse. It seemed to match his own.

“Sit up,” he ordered hoarsely.

She immediately did as he asked, placing her palms on his shoulders and using them for leverage. Finding the hem of her top, he said, “This needs to go.”

She raised her arms. He ripped the camisole over her head, revealing her breasts.

Jesus.

He’d seen them before, touched them, too. But his memory wasn’t anywhere close to the reality—firm, perky mounds tipped with dainty apricot-colored nipples.

He wanted those nipples in his mouth. He wanted to feel them against his tongue.

Now.

She must have been a mind reader, because she leaned forward, letting her breasts swing over his mouth. He caught one of her nipples between his lips and sucked it deep. While he laved the hard nub with his tongue, he massaged her other breast with his hand, shaping and molding it to fit his palm.

The contrasting textures intrigued him: the silky plumpness of her breasts and the pebbled velvet of her nipples. He swirled his tongue around the peak before giving it a hard nip.

She gasped. “Zeke, oh, my God. Do that again.”

He obliged her before shifting his mouth to her other breast and giving it the same attention. As the rich, sweet taste of her skin filled his mouth, he wondered what she would taste like between her legs.

Jesus.

He wanted to shove his face between Margo’s legs. Would she let him?

Skimming his hands over her rib cage, he traced the line of her spine until he reached the waistband of her panties. He slid both hands under the lace and cupped her ass cheeks in his palms.

As he kneaded her ass, she nuzzled her face into his chest. She found his nipple and flicked it with her tongue. When her teeth grazed it, a spark zipped down his nerve endings, making his dick even harder.

She rocked her hips a little, grinding on him, and for a moment, he was afraid he was going to shoot off in his underwear like a teenage boy. Gripping her waist, he lifted her off him, reducing the delicious pressure on his dick.

“Zeke, no,” she protested. “I don’t want to stop.”

Before he could tell her that he had no intention of stopping—that he just needed a little time to regain some self-control—she wriggled out of her panties and climbed back on top of him.

She sat up with her knees bracketing his torso. Like a heat-guided missile, his eyes found the apex of her thighs.

Jesus.

The hair covering her pussy was a little darker than the strawberry-blond strands on her head. He wanted to nuzzle his face into that tiny tuft and let her smell fill his nose before spreading the lips of her pussy and licking her plump pink flesh.

And the only way he was going to get what he wanted was to ask for it.

“Margo…” He paused, surprised by how raspy his voice sounded. He cleared his throat roughly. “I want to…”

He hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it.
Perform cunnilingus?
That sounded like a surgical procedure.
Go downtown?
She might give him bus fare.

Fuck it.

He wasn’t going to ask. He was just going to do it, and if she didn’t like it, he would stop.

Clasping her waist with both hands, he slid down the bed a few inches. Then he lifted her up and placed her pussy right on his face.

Margo’s squeal of surprise barely registered because his senses were on overload. He was lost in her.

Her private curls tickled his mouth, and her smell intoxicated him. She was so wet her juice had glazed his lips. He licked at it, and the taste of her almost made him lose it. No wonder guys talked about pussy as if it were a gourmet meal.

Gently, he eased his tongue between the folds of her sex, stroking the delicate tissue. He delved deeper, finding the opening to her body. He lapped up her juice before pushing his tongue inside her.

Above him, Margo moaned softly. Suddenly, a stab of apprehension dampened his excitement.

He had never done this before. He was just going on instinct and what he’d heard over the years.

What if he wasn’t good at it? What if he disappointed her?

Margo’s voice floated from above. “Again, Zeke. Do it again.”

Wanting to please her, he darted his tongue inside her again. Then he swept it upward until he reached her clitoris. It was smooth and hard, like a pearl, and he rolled his tongue over it.

She cried out in unmistakable pleasure, so he did it again and again until the little nub throbbed against his tongue. Switching things up, he licked circles around her clit, occasionally swiping his tongue over it.

He could tell she liked that because she began to move against his mouth, little moans drifting from her with every rock of her pelvis. Digging his fingers into the cheeks of her ass, he pulled tighter against his face and sucked on her clit.

She froze with her thighs trembling around his head. She screamed his name, her voice echoing in the room as her juice flooded his mouth. He couldn’t be one hundred percent certain, but he was pretty sure he’d just made her come.

She lifted herself off his face. He glanced up, past the vibrant curls on her pussy and the sinuous curve of breasts. Her hands were clenched on the headboard, and she was looking down at him.

This woman turned him on like no one else. His ears roared with the sound of his blood rushing through his veins, and his dick throbbed with every beat of his heart.