“Ohhh, Blake.” She clutched at his back, rocking her hips against him. Her nipples had turned into two tight points beneath her dress. He pushed the slippery fabric all the way up over her bra. He tugged the black satin cup down, covering that nipple with his mouth. She shivered.

  “I wanna bury myself in you so bad,” he whispered. “I don’t think I’ve thought of anything else.”

  “Except the club,” she cracked.

  He snorted, burying his face in her shoulder. “Except that.”

  “Blake.” She propped herself up on her elbows again, forcing him to meet her gaze. “We both have a lot we don’t want to think about for a little bit. So I want you to fuck me so hard that we forget.”

  Her words were a challenge he was more than eager to meet. He claimed her mouth with his own, coaxing hot, passionate kisses. But her words began a slow swirl in the back of his mind. A lot we don’t want to think about.

  What was she trying to avoid thinking about?

  Now wasn’t the time to play therapist. She’d said it herself. She wanted him to fuck the thoughts away. And that, he could do. Even though it felt like she was slipping away from him—no matter how little sense that made—he could at least ease her mind for a little while.

  There was plenty of time left to dig in and find out what was bothering her…after their orgasms.

  Blake sat back on his heels and pushed his underwear down so that his cock sprang free. He tore open the condom packet with his teeth. Michelle fidgeted between his legs, dragging her nails up and down the tops of his thighs as he rolled the condom down over his cock.

  Everything inside him pulsed with urgency, with impatience. But not just because he was about to get laid. Because he wanted more of Michelle. Wanted so much more that it almost didn’t make sense.

  He shucked his underwear and then eased himself between her legs, pushing aside the damp scrap of her panties. Her pussy was swollen, glistening. He had half a mind to take a detour and get lost in there with his lips and tongue, but no. He’d made a promise to her. Besides, his throbbing cock demanded attention. They could start with a bang, and spend the rest of the evening catching up.

  Michelle sucked in a sharp breath as his cockhead nudged for entrance, already digging her nails into his biceps. His head spun with every new millimeter of space he claimed inside her. It had been less than a week since they’d last had sex, but it had felt like years.

  Because the truth was, he needed this way more often.

  Even if the club was eating up all his attention, Michelle and Mollie were constantly on his mind. Not his baseball teams; not his record label. Not even his friends. It was only Michelle and Mollie occupying the real estate of his attention span whenever he let his mind wander.

  This revelation sizzled through him as he pushed himself inside of her. God, was he falling for Michelle? Her soft moan sent sparks skating under his skin. The pretty planes of her face held him captive as he sank deeper inside of her. Her pussy stretched like hot silk around him, cementing the realization.

  Oh, yeah. He was falling for her.

  And hard.

  Blake buried his face in the hollow of her neck, drinking in the sweet scent of her. Her breathy gasp seared through him as he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt. He’d always assumed that sex lost its luster when you stayed with one person—but he’d had sex with her more times than he had with any other one woman, and it just got better every time. That was saying something. In fact, it said everything.

  Blake nibbled at her earlobe, loving the way she whimpered beneath him. His cock throbbed inside her. He’d promised to fuck away all their thoughts, but right now, he just wanted to relish this.

  “Do you have any idea how fucking hard you make me?” he whispered hotly into her ear.

  “I have some idea,” she said. She hooked her ankles behind his back, flexing her hips against him. “Maybe I can make it even harder.”

  He groaned, finding more depth within her as she rocked her hips against him. “Yep. Congratulations. You just did. Solid steel now.”

  Blake bit back another groan as he worked himself in and out of her, increasing his pace. Michelle bit at her lip and tossed her head back, arching herself against him as he drilled into her, over and over again. Sweat prickled at his temples. This was fervent. Intense. The best kind of perfect.

  “Oooooh,” Michelle moaned, her breasts jiggling in time as he fucked her. He angled his head to admire the way she parted her lips. The way she squeezed her eyes shut. The way she’d fisted a hand into her comforter.

  His abs burned as he pushed himself in and out of her, everything in his body going buzzy and bright as he worked himself toward orgasm. It was hard to keep his grip, to rein in the pending explosion, while he thrust into the juicy, velvety core of her, determined to bring her there first.

  Her mouth parted again, a long, low moan ripping out of her. Something he’d never heard from her. Both animalistic and feminine, it gave his own climax an extra push.

  Her pussy quaked around him, her body spasming as her orgasm washed through her. And then it was his turn for the pleasure to take over. A loud groan escaped him, but he only thrust into her harder, powering through the blinding flashes of his climax.

  “Ohhhh, Michelle!” He pushed himself into her one last time, and then his limbs gave out. He eased himself on top of her, his dick pulsing with its final dregs of pleasure inside of her. Her chest heaved like she’d just finished another race, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping her afloat.

  “Baaabe,” he moaned, scooping his arms around her. “Oh, fuck.” The waves of his orgasm hadn’t stopped. Everything in his body vibrated warm and languid. He pressed kisses to her shoulder, along her collarbone. She sighed heavily, a small smile on her face.

  “Wow,” she croaked.

  “Mm-hmm.” He took a soft bite of the flesh of her upper arm and she giggled. “Did I fuck the thoughts away or what?”

  Her smile spanned ear to ear. “Oh, yeah. That was perfect.”

  Blake rolled off of her, every inch of his body vibrating with satisfaction. Damn, he’d never felt this good afterwards. He eased off the bed and onto wobbly legs, carefully removing the condom before tossing it in her attached bathroom’s wastebasket.

  When he walked back toward the bed, she had her head propped up on her palm. Watching him with something unreadable in her expression.

  “What’s that look on your face?” he asked, easing back onto the bed. He spooned her from behind, pulling her into his arms. The heat of her body formed a perfect seal against his.

  “I don’t have any look,” she said.

  “No, you look like you want more.” He kissed the back of her neck, enjoying the goose bumps that formed there. “You need to give me time to rest.”

  She snickered. “I don’t know if I could go again.”

  “We don’t have to now,” he said. “There’s always the morning. Right before I cook you breakfast, for example.”

  She sighed, her head drooping. “Shit, Blake.”

  “What?”

  “I…I don’t think you should spend the night.”

  A sick knot formed in his gut. He brushed his lips against the top of her shoulder cautiously. He wanted to spend the night. It was upsetting that she wasn’t on the same page. “Why not?”

  “My parents are going to be coming back in the morning with Mollie,” she said. “I think it’s best you’re not here.”

  “I can leave early,” he said.

  “They’ll be back very early,” she countered. “And knowing us…we’ll stay up all night…oversleep and miss our alarms…”

  That wouldn’t happen. Not with him. He hadn’t overslept an alarm in five years. With his stress levels, he was lucky to get any sleep at all.

  But whatever. She didn’t want him to spend the night, and he wasn’t going to beg.

  “What do you guys have planned for tomorrow?” Blake asked, trying to sound casual and unconcerned even as that weird knot kept getting tighter in his gut.

  “We’ll be bumming around the city, mostly. Once they get here, we’ll probably have a quick breakfast and then head out for the zoo…then stop and get lunch.” She gave the name of the restaurant, mentioning that she’d researched it before this visit, knowing her dad would want to eat somewhere with a great chocolate cake. This restaurant supposedly served the best in the Bay Area. “And after that, who knows?”

  Blake mulled over his own schedule for the following day. He had plenty on his plate, but he figured he could eke out a quick lunch to meet her parents. After all, that’s what they needed to do next, right? Wasn’t meeting the parents an important step? A proper lunch with Mollie, Michelle, and Michelle’s parents sounded like a good opportunity.

  “I could meet you guys for lunch,” he said, squeezing his arms around her.

  She tutted. “Oh, Blake—”

  “I want to meet your parents.”

  A strange silence settled between them. It felt like Michelle had gone rigid in his arms. He loosened his grip on her, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at her. When she rolled onto her back, she didn’t meet his gaze immediately.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, running her fingers back and forth over the tuft of dark hair on his chest. “I know you’ve got so much going on.”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “No, no, don’t worry about it for this visit. Next time.” She offered a small smile, but it didn’t look genuine. “Promise.”

  He nodded, something uncomfortable and unknown swirling inside him as a small, internal voice whispered to him that he’d been rejected. Turned down. Cast aside. He’d always avoided relationships just so he’d never have to feel this way.

  But he didn’t want to think about that right now. Even though he’d much rather spend the next few hours here at Michelle’s side, it was clear that she was ready for the night to end.

  Blake came to his feet, hunting down his discarded clothes. He stepped into his underwear, and then snatched up his pants from their crumpled spot on the ground.

  Michelle watched him with her hands tucked under her cheek. “Are you leaving already?”

  He drew his brows together. “I thought you just told me to get out.”

  “No. I said you shouldn’t spend the night, not that you had to leave now.”

  Confusion swirled inside him. He tossed his arms out to his sides. “Well, shit. I don’t know how to read between the lines then. I thought I was doing what you wanted.”

  Michelle pushed to sitting, an unknown emotion creasing her face. He couldn’t read her, probably due to his amazing lack of relationship knowledge.

  And maybe he should have just stuck to that path. It was easier to just run away when things got tough. He could handle challenges in any arena except emotions. And hell, who could blame him? He’d never seen a good example of what sticking around could achieve. His own parents had broken up when he was four. They’d both re-married multiple times. Nothing lasted for long, that much was certain.

  Maybe he’d already run his course with Michelle.

  “Blake.” Her voice was soft now, and sad. “It’s not that I don’t want you here. We just have to play it carefully. I have a daughter.”

  “I don’t know why you act like I don’t know that.”

  Her lips thinned. “It’s part of how I consider the choices I make. I don’t want to thrust you into her life, or into my parent’s life. We should ease in slowly. That’s all.”

  Some of the tension dissipated inside him as he grabbed for his shirt. He was quiet as he buttoned it, her words echoing through him.

  “Will you snuggle just a little bit longer?” she asked.

  He smirked, turning toward her. Mischief had replaced her shrouded expression from before. And damn…it was hard to say no when she was naked and asking him to stay.

  “Of course,” he said, heading back for the bed.

  Because the truth was, he wanted to be here.

  He just hoped she craved it as much as he did.

  14

  “Mollie! Over here!”

  Michelle squinted against the sun as she watched her daughter skip away down the sidewalk to investigate some spring flowers growing in a large barrel. She grinned as Mollie held up a finger and then dipped down to get a big whiff of the blossoms. Her daughter let out an exaggerated, “Ahhh.”

  “Come on, peanut,” Michelle’s father called out. “We don’t want to be late for lunch.”

  Mollie’s face lit up, and she raced back down the sidewalk toward Michelle and her parents. The four of them had enjoyed a fun touristy day in San Francisco, which was as much for her parents as it was for Michelle and Mollie. Yet as they prepared to head into the restaurant for lunch, she couldn’t help but think of Blake’s disappointment the night before.

  Maybe she should have invited him to lunch after all. She’d been second-guessing herself ever since. Half of her wanted to sing it from the rooftops that she and Blake were an item.

  The other half of her? Scared shitless that she was about to choose wrong yet again.

  Except you’ve already chosen.

  It was true, no matter how much indecision plagued her. She’d chosen Blake. She’d opened up to him. She’d welcomed him into her home, into her bed, into the heart of her daughter.

  Now, God help her, she didn’t want to be wrong, except it seemed that all she could see were all the potential ways in which he’d leave the two of them flat on their faces.

  “Is Mr. Blake coming?” Mollie asked as she bounded up to take her mother’s hand. Luckily, Michelle’s parents were already halfway inside the restaurant’s vestibule, admiring the western-themed decor.

  “No, honey, he’s not coming with us today,” Michelle said, trying to infuse her voice with a finality that Mollie would understand as case closed.

  “When is Mr. Blake coming over again?”

  This time, Mollie asked it loud enough that Michelle’s mother turned toward them. “What was that?”

  “Oh, Mollie’s just talking about one of my friends,” Michelle said.

  “Mr. Blake just had a birthday.”

  Michelle grimaced. “That’s enough, honey.” She really didn’t want to get into this now. She didn’t want her parents to get excited about the idea of her maybe finding love just to be disappointed when—if, if—things didn’t end well.

  And while she did plan to let them know about Blake—or any future man, for that matter—she wanted to do it once she herself was 1000% sure. When no doubts or equivocation remained.

  She just wasn’t quite there with Blake.

  Her parents were distracted by the bubbly host, who asked how many there’d be and whether they wanted to sit with the cowboys or the outlaws.

  “Cowboys!” Mollie shouted.

  “Peanut, I thought you would have picked the outlaws,” Michelle’s dad teased.

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing what the outlaws are up to these days,” Michelle’s mom mused, a wry grin on her face as the four of them followed the host past the high-backed booths and servers outfitted with big cowboy hats. Michelle grinned as she noticed their server pads tucked into aprons beside fake guns, like holsters that held all their necessary implements.

  “This place is really cool!” Mollie gushed as she slid into the booth the host led them to. And for Michelle, seeing her daughter’s happiness was all that mattered. She just needed to know that her daughter enjoyed it. That she felt good in life. That Michelle hadn’t irreparably damaged her by choosing a man that she’d ultimately had to force out of her life.

  “This is way better than anything we’ve got back home,” Michelle’s mom remarked. Michelle couldn’t keep the grin from spreading. Part of her was hopeful that her parents might consider relocating.

  “I wish grandma and grandpa would move here,” Mollie said, echoing Michelle’s thoughts.

  “Me too,” Michelle added.

  Her parents exchanged a secret smile. The type that couples could have only after thirty years side-by-side. Michelle still wanted that—even though she sometimes doubted she might truly find a love that lasted that long.

  “Then they could meet Mr. Blake too,” Mollie went on, rolling a red crayon the host had left for her back and forth over the table.

  Michelle’s mom’s brow shot up. “Now who is this Mr. Blake?”

  “Just a colleague. And, well, a friend,” Michelle said, something wrenching in her chest. She felt somehow guilty for the misdirection—but now wasn’t the time to drop the dating bomb to both her parents and Mollie. “I met him through work. Actually, he owns the team I work for.”

  “Huh,” her dad said.

  They looked placated, so Michelle busied herself in scouring the menu for her lunch. Mollie picked her tried-and-true grilled cheese, and Michelle opted for a buffalo chicken salad and a bowl of soup. The four of them had a good time chatting and enjoying the occasional cowboy dances that took place in the aisles at random times, always punctuated with a guttural “Yee-haw!”

  By the time their plates were cleared, Michelle was ready to get back to walking around the city, seeing sights with the family. But the server returned with an enormous platter—with three decadent slices of chocolate cake on top.

  “Wooooow,” Mollie said.

  “Dad, did you get this?” Michelle asked, sending him a knowing look. He was the biggest freak for chocolate cake of all of them.

  His brows drew together. “No, I didn’t.” He tipped his head up to look at the server. “There must be a mistake—we didn’t order this.”

  “No worries. It’s on the house. Paid for by a Mr. Blake Harrison.” The server smiled at the four of them. “He said to enjoy.”

  Once the server walked away, Michelle’s mom’s brows were so high they’d practically lodged into her hairline.

  “Just a colleague, she tells us.” Her mom stabbed a forkful of cake. “Hm. I’d be curious to see what a real boyfriend might look like with this one.”