Crossing the Line (22 page)

She massaged the spot he pinched. It really didn’t hurt. It was more the principle of the matter. “What were you going to say then?”

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “My wife—Melissa—is the only woman I’ve ever dated.”

Megan’s eyes went wide with shock. “Really? As in, ever?”

Paul nodded.

“Wow.” She thought about it a moment. “What about sex? Was there anyone else besides—”

“No.”

“Not even . . . after?”

He shook his head.

The primary emotion Megan was feeling was disbelief. Not that she didn’t think Paul was telling the truth, more that she couldn’t imagine someone as passionate as him going without sex for so long. Finding out his wife had been his only lover stunned her. Wow. Five years. Megan couldn’t imagine.

“So does that mean you don’t want to? Have sex, I mean. Is that why you never . . .” Megan held her breath waiting for his answer.

He was quiet for what felt like a really long time. “I tried once. About six months after my wife died.”

This was good, wasn’t it? I mean, it meant he wasn’t saving himself for marriage or anything. “And what happened?”

Paul shook his head. “It’s a long story, but needless to say I didn’t try again.”

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t want to, right?”

“I didn’t for a long time.”

Megan searched his face, hoping she wasn’t misinterpreting what he was saying. She didn’t think she was. 

Standing, she reached for his hand. He hesitated for only a moment before linking his fingers through hers and following her up the stairs. 

Chapter 17

Paul had a pretty good idea where they were heading, and yet he couldn’t figure out if he was excited about finally making his fantasies a reality, or scared out of his mind. The closer they came to her bedroom, the less distinguishable the two emotions became. It was as if the fear and the anticipation had combined. 

With their hands still linked, Megan dragged him across the threshold of her bedroom, and over to the nightstand. She opened the drawer and extracted a condom. Tossing it on the bed, she turned to face him. 

He swallowed, and tried not to let her see how nervous he was. 

She stepped closer, releasing his hand, and placed both of hers, palms down, on his chest. “You can say no.”

The thing was he didn’t want to say no. He’d been dreaming about Megan for the last three months. 

Knowing he needed to show her that he was in this all the way—that he wanted this—he took hold of her hips, and drew her toward him. She sucked in a breath as their lower bodies connected. He was painfully hard, and more than ready. “I don’t want to say no.”

Megan smiled, and ran her hands up his chest and neck until her arms rested on his shoulders. Her breasts flattened against his chest, and Paul closed his eyes. He felt her breath on his face, and turned his head to meet her lips. 

“Relax,” she whispered.

Their mouths met in a tender caress. It wasn’t desperate need, but a slow burn. There was an energy inside him that was increasing in intensity. 

She slid her tongue along the seam of his lips, and he opened his mouth, allowing her to slip her tongue inside. He dug his fingers into the flesh of her ass, increasing the friction against his groin. His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the sensation. It was at that point instinct started to take over, and he began moving them closer to the bed.

When the back of her legs hit the mattress, Megan broke the kiss, and sat down on the edge of the bed. She immediately went to work on removing his jeans. “Take off your shirt.”

Without stopping to think, Paul pulled the T-shirt over his head, and threw it somewhere a few feet away. By that point, Megan had unfastened his jeans and worked them halfway down his thighs. 

She glanced up at him, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Tighty-whities, huh?”

“They’re practical.”

Without taking her gaze from his, she ran a finger over his erection. He thought he was going to lose it. No one had touched him like that in five years. Paul felt as if he were dangling from a cliff, hanging on for dear life. 

Then she went and did something he hadn’t expected. Although, knowing Megan, he should have. She took hold of both sides of his underwear, and yanked them down to join his jeans. He stood there, fully erect, with his pants bunched down around his knees.

Paul was about to kick them off and out of the way, along with his shoes, when Megan sucked his length into her warm mouth. He released a strangled moan, and tangled his fingers loosely in her hair. It had been years. He’d forgotten how good it felt to have a woman’s mouth on him.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed what she was doing with her lips and tongue. All too soon he felt his orgasm building. He didn’t want her to stop, but if she continued, they’d never make it to the main event.

With great reluctance, Paul pushed her back. The cool air was a stark contrast to her warmth. She smiled up at him, licking her lips.

Paul kicked off his shoes and then finished removing his jeans. Leaning forward, he lowered himself onto the bed—his hands spread wide, bracing himself. She leaned back on the mattress as he towered over her. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

She lifted her arms over her head and stretched, arching her back. “So why don’t you do something about it?”

Reaching for the bottom of her shirt, Paul worked it up past her breasts, and she helped him ease it over her head. She wore a pale pink bra with little blue flowers. It was cute and innocent. A direct contrast to the hard nipples he could see outlined beneath the thin fabric. 

Paul remembered what Megan’s breasts felt and tasted like against his tongue. Pushing the material of her bra out of the way, he quickly latched on to her nipple, and drew it into his mouth. She held his head in place, pushing her chest up, encouraging him to take what he wanted. 

And take he did. No matter how much he licked and sucked, he couldn’t get enough. If not for the growing need he had to be inside her, he could have spent hours—days—lavishing attention on her breasts.

Megan rotated her hips, and Paul could no longer ignore the pulsing in his groin. Reaching down between them, he unbuttoned her jeans, and then unzipped them. She helped him push the denim over her hips and down her legs, letting them fall to the floor beside the bed along with her shoes. The only things that remained between them were her bra and panties, and even those seemed too much. Megan seemed to agree, and between the two of them, the offending items were gone in a matter of seconds.

He ran his hands down the length of her body, taking in its perfection. Her curves were subtle, but they were there. Paul wondered how they’d change after she had a child of her own, and then swiftly stifled the thought. That wasn’t what this was about. They hadn’t—

Megan touched the side of his face. “Hey. Where did you go?” 

Shaking his head, Paul kissed her. “Nowhere. It’s just been a long time for me.”

“Ah, yes. Well, we can take care of that easy enough.”

A second later, Paul was lying on his back, and Megan was climbing on top of him. He recognized the move she’d used as one commonly taught in self-defense classes. This was the first time he’d had it executed on him outside of the gym. 

“Where did you learn that?” he asked.

She straddled his waist, trapping his erection beneath her. “Becca. She was big on making sure I could take care of myself.”

“I’d say she did a good job, then. That was an expert m—” The word died in his throat as Megan started rocking against him. He dug his fingers into her hips and guided her movements.

“Did you want to talk, or did you want to do something way more fun?” Her voice held a playful tone, but he heard the desire there.

Grabbing the back of her head, he pulled her face down to his. This kiss was all tongues and teeth as they moved against one another. He could feel her heat against him, and he needed to be inside her.

Reaching for the condom he knew was beside them on the bed, he snatched it up and tore open the packaging. Megan sat up, and took it from his hands, scooting back a little so that she could roll it down his length. Once it was in place, she lifted herself up onto her knees, and held him in position while she lowered herself down. 

Paul held his breath as her heat enveloped him. It had been so long that he’d almost forgotten how it felt to be inside a woman, to have her surround him completely. It was indescribable.

Megan released a soft moan as he filled her, and he could see the pleasure on her face. It was an amazing sight, and he wanted to see more—he wanted to give her more. Repositioning them slightly, Paul began moving. In response, Megan leaned back, bracing her hands on his thighs, and met each thrust of his hips with one of her own. It felt good. Right. 

Unfortunately, Paul hadn’t been intimate with a woman for five years, and all too soon he felt his orgasm approaching. The only way to stop it would have been to halt all movement, but that wasn’t something he was willing to do. “Megan?”

She met his gaze—her eyes glazed over with her own arousal.

“I’m . . .”

Before he could get another word out, she reached between them, and began pleasuring herself. 

Paul groaned, and gritted his teeth. Watching her was making it that much harder to hold on, but he couldn’t look away. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. 

With each brush of her fingers, she brought him closer and closer to the edge. He was sweating, not only with the exertion of sex, but also from trying to hold his climax at bay. 

The moment he felt her spasm around him, Paul let himself go, and with only a few more thrusts, he found his own release. It left him sweaty, and spent, and feeling better than he had in years.

Megan collapsed on top of him, her breathing heavy against his neck. He wrapped his arms around her back, and buried his nose in her hair. She still smelled like lilac and cherries.

All Megan’s limbs felt as if they’d come loose at the joints. She’d missed sex, but even she could admit this was different. It hadn’t only been about having fun—which, of course, it was—but it was more than that. This was Paul. And being able to show him how she felt without having to hold back was beyond amazing. 

He shifted a little as he separated himself from her. Megan felt the loss, and wanted him back. In that vein, she started kissing his neck and shoulders, anywhere in easy reach. Lazily, she threaded her fingers through his hair, and massaged his scalp with her nails.

Paul chuckled. “Easy. I’m an old man, remember? I need some time to recover.”

She smiled against his neck, and then propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. “So what you’re saying is that you’re going to need a few minutes before we go at it again?”

He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek, before rubbing his thumb along the curve of her lips. “I’m afraid it will take more than a few minutes.”

Paul pulled her down for a kiss. It was fairly chaste considering they were lying naked together on her bed. Still, it had her pulse racing in no time. 

Before she could get carried away, Paul ended it. “I need to go clean up.”

The cold air hit her as soon as he left the bed. She watched as he strolled into her bathroom and disappeared from sight. Glancing down at their clothes on the floor, Megan wondered if she should get dressed. Normally, that’s what happened after sex—well, unless she passed out drunk beforehand. That wasn’t the case here. Plus, she really didn’t want to get dressed. What she wanted to do was crawl into bed with Paul and stay there for the foreseeable future. 

When Paul reentered the room, she was sitting up on the bed with her legs crossed Indian-style. He sat down beside her, and the awkwardness returned. She knew she needed to do something to fix it, but she wasn’t sure how. They were in uncharted territory—for both of them.

She laid her palm face up on the bed between them. Paul hesitated for a moment, and then placed his hand on top of hers. He laced their fingers together, and gave them a squeeze. 

They sat there not talking for several minutes until she shivered. He noticed. “Are you cold?”

Megan shrugged. “A little.”

Paul stood, releasing her hand. She was regretting her confession until she realized what he was doing. He walked around to the opposite side of the bed and pulled the covers back. “Get in. I don’t want you to catch cold.”

She pushed herself up on her knees, and reached for the sheet and blanket. “Only if you join me.”

He smiled. “That’s the idea.”

Megan scurried beneath the cool blankets, and her stomach did a little somersault when Paul slid into bed beside her. As soon as he was in, she snuggled against him. He held her close, and it felt natural. It was where she was meant to be. 

They lay there for a long time, him tracing patterns on her back, while she played with the hair on his chest. Most of the guys she’d been with had little to no hair on their torsos. Paul’s was covered with brown curls. Megan liked it. It seemed to fit him somehow. 

“What are you thinking so hard about?” he asked.