"You like me touching you?" Her smile wobbled, making me want to hold her close.
Damn it, this is why I didn't do vulnerable. I did fast and furious sex. Something I needed to focus on before I let a woman I barely knew creep under my guard; more than she already had. In one fucking night.
"Yeah, you can touch all you want. Later." I lowered myself onto her, liking the skin-to-skin contact as my cock nudged her pussy. "For now, this is where I want to be."
I slid into her. Tight heat gripped me. Squeezed me. Engulfed me.
Perfection.
Then I started moving, in and out, hard and fast. I needed this. Needed to be in a beautiful woman who wanted me as badly as I wanted her. Needed to banish the loneliness. Needed to forget. Everything.
"Oh my God, Kye, you feel so good …" She wrapped her legs around my waist and I drove into her harder. "Oh yeah, just like that …"
I wanted to kiss her, craved it like a thirsty man in the dessert, but I wanted to watch her come more, so I slipped a hand between our bodies and fingered her clit.
Her gaze locked on mine, wide and wondrous, as I changed the angle slightly and pounded deeper.
"Kye, please…" she begged, her arse lifting off the sofa as the pressure built and instinct took over.
I slammed into her and she met me thrust for thrust, the strength of my orgasm almost making me black out as she screamed my name.
As we both came back down to earth, I searched for the right words, any words, to convey how monumentally phenomenal that was.
Until I realized something. I never dwelled on the right thing to say after sex with other girls. My post-coital conversation consisted of a thanks and a see you later. Which never eventuated.
I didn't do involvement and I never emotionally connected with anyone.
So why the fuck did having sex with Mia make me feel like I'd just done both?
Chapter 7
MIA
Speechless, I stared at Kye's chest.
Because maybe if I kept looking at it long enough, the right words would form in my head and I might have a remote chance in hell of articulating something, anything, other than WTF?
If what I'd just done with Kye was sex, those other few times? A lackluster preview before the main performance.
What he'd done with his mouth … and the rest …
Heat scorched my cheeks. Yeah, like a blush meant anything now. The guy was still inside me, for goodness sake.
"Be back in a sec."
But not for long, as he slid out and headed for the bathroom. Leaving me with a sensational view of the best ass I'd ever seen and a distinct case of 'what the hell do I do now?'
I heard the shower running and contemplated following him in there for one insane second before dismissing it as PTSD: Post Terrific Sex Ditziness.
First things first, I couldn't be sprawled naked on his sofa when he returned so I sat up, grabbed my dress and shrugged into it.
I was fumbling with the zip when he strolled into the lounge, a towel knotted at his hip.
"The shower's all yours if you want it," he said, gesturing at the bathroom. "I'll make us something to eat."
It all sounded so normal, so nice, if not for the fact he could barely look me in the eye.
I could take the easy option and scuttle for the bathroom, drown out my thoughts beneath the showerhead, then pretend like we hadn't had mind-blowing sex.
But what I was feeling? A confusing jumble of awe, affection and serious lust—the latter most of all—meant I needed to confront Kye before things got really awkward. Besides, I was hoping for an encore later.
"Kye?"
He paused at the door to his bedroom and glanced over his shoulder, his expression shuttered. "Yeah?"
"That was amazing."
The tension compressing his lips eased and they curved into a semi smile that made me feel warm and gooey inside. "So I lived up to your Hemsworth fantasies?"
"The only person I was thinking about that whole time was you." And I meant it. By the shock widening his eyes, maybe articulating it wasn't such a good idea, but I'd never been a game player.
I didn't flirt or simper or pretend. When I liked a guy I told him. Which probably accounted for my pathetic track record with men.
"Same here, babe."
Our gazes locked across the room, sparking the air between us with something indefinable, before he turned away and strode into the bedroom.
Thankfully, he didn't close the door and I watched him drop the towel and pull on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Damn, if Kye looked hot in clothes, he was stunning naked. The muscle definition, the hardness, the tan … that didn't extend to certain parts I'd been privy to see.
I'd had sex with a tennis jock I barely knew.
Freaking hell.
I pressed my palms to my hot cheeks. Yeah, like that would cool them down. Maybe a shower wasn't a bad idea. A cold one.