He worked me right back up to the edge, doing it over and over until I was begging him to make me come. Only when I was almost in tears, my body throbbing with a need like nothing I'd felt before, did he stand.
He gripped my hips and pulled me to the edge of the table, thrusting in deep with one stroke. We were eye to eye, and the intimacy of it cut right through to my core. His blue eyes seared me, lighting up places I hadn’t even realized were cold and dark.
“Leslie…” My name was a raspy growl and then he was kissing me and I never wanted him to stop.
Not ever.
* * *
Was it possible to want somebody too much?
I doubted it had even been thirty minutes since we’d disappeared into the bedroom, and we’d had sex twice. And I still wanted more of him.
As we slid out of the bedroom, I gave into the urge and moved up behind him, sliding my arms around his waist. He tensed for a moment, then stopped. Pressing my face against his back, I breathed in the scent of him and let myself wish, let myself wonder.
His hands covered mine and we stood like that for a few moments.
I don’t remember which one of us pulled away first, but when we walked into the kitchen, we did it without speaking and sat back down in the seats where we’d been earlier.
Our coffee had gone cold. I picked up mine and drank it anyway.
After a moment, Paxton did the same and we just sat there, staring at each other.
Eventually, he got up and moved over to the refrigerator and opened it. “I’m going to make some breakfast. Would you like some?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
He nodded, not looking at me.
I almost laughed. I’d come out here earlier and told him that everything was fine, we were both adults and could handle the fact that we’d gone and had sex.
Then we’d gone and done it again, and now we were walking on eggshells.
Or were we?
It…something felt different.
I couldn’t even explain what it was, but something was just…different
Determined to think about something else – anything else – I got up and carried my coffee cup over to the sink, washing it out, and putting it in the dish rack where the glass he’d been using for whiskey the night before still sat.
“How long have you been clean?”
From the corner of my eye, I could see the way his hands stilled. Turning my head, I looked at him. He cocked his eyebrow.
“Little details,” I said. “Sooner or later, we’ll have to talk about that in detail.”
A humorless smile curled his lips. “Great pillow talk, Leslie.”
“It’s not like we’re lovers.” It was just as much to remind myself as anything.
A muscle in his jaw pulsed, but he shrugged casually. “True. Just a couple of acquaintances. We had a couple of good hard fucks, right?”
“They were very good.” My heart stuttered and blood rushed to heat my cheeks, but I didn’t look away from him. “That doesn’t mean I don’t have questions I need to ask as your lawyer. I figured I might as well get some of them out of the way.”
“Sure. Why not?”
He was quiet for a moment, and I watched as he got an omelet started. “It took two tries before I kicked everything, but I was clean before Carter was born. I…well, I grew up seeing my parents abuse drugs, each other…me.”
He shrugged, the motion lacking his normal, smooth grace. That told me more than his words how much he hated talking about it.
“I told myself that if I ever had kids, that wouldn’t be me. Of course, I also told myself I wouldn’t get hooked on shit like they did, and what did I do? But at least I was able to quit.”
He was smiling to himself now, and the love in that smile told me exactly who he was thinking of.
“You had a good reason to quit.”
He looked up at me. “Yeah. The best. But I had to do it for me, first. I promised myself I’d do better than my parents, and I am. Of course, some wild animals eat their young, and they would make better parents than my folks did.” He flipped the omelet, silent for a few moments before continuing. “Once I was able to stop, though, for good, the world was more real. Things were clearer, music was better, and I found myself wondering why I’d ever gone down that rabbit hole to begin with.”
“Did you ever figure that out?”
“It was easier.” He shrugged. “No one thing set me off. I’d have some weed here, some coke there. Then I was using more and more, and before I knew it, I was addicted. Then Brinke and I got together and we were both using and…”
He blew out a breath and turned away, grabbed a couple of plates from a glass-fronted cabinet.
Once we were sitting down, he looked at me. “Next question?”