Crossing the Line (29 page)

They drove by the club and found a place to park a few blocks away. Paul walked around the car and helped her out of the vehicle.

He must have realized something was still bothering her. “Hey, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” She gave him the best smile she could manage.

Paul wasn’t buying it. “You’re still upset by what Cindy said.”

She nodded.

He crushed her against his chest and brushed the side of his cheek against hers. It was completely smooth—smoother than she’d ever felt it. And he smelled divine. She’d have to ask him sometime what cologne he was wearing so she could stock up.

His voice vibrated against her ear. “Don’t be. What she thinks doesn’t matter. This is about us.”

Megan held on tight, not wanting to let him go. “You don’t care that she doesn’t approve?”

Paul shrugged. “She didn’t approve of me at one point, so no.”

She leaned back and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Cindy didn’t approve of you?”

“Neither did George. Although, I don’t think it was me, specifically. I think it was more they didn’t like the fact that their sixteen-year-old daughter was dating. Since having Chloe, I’m beginning to understand. I’m fairly certain I’m not going to enjoy her teenage years.” 

Paul grimaced, and Megan laughed.

They began walking hand in hand toward the entrance to the club. 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. Somehow, I imagine you being a cop will make any of Chloe’s suitors think twice about doing anything stupid.” 

He kissed the top of her head as they approached the door. “I hope you’re right.”

Megan had done a lot of research to find a club she thought they would both enjoy. This one was a little more subdued than some she’d found, but she didn’t think Paul would be able to relax and have a good time at one of the more trendy locations. 

As they made their way inside, she recognized various parts of the club from the online pictures. The walls were painted a dark blue, but there were lighter accents throughout. To their right was a long bar that stretched almost the entire length of the wall. On the left there were tables and booths—most of which were occupied. The center of the room was dedicated to a large dance floor with a stage at the back. An all-male band was currently playing an upbeat dance track she recognized from about five years ago.

“Come on, let’s see what kind of dance moves you have.”

She dragged him by the hand through several groups of people until they were near the center of the dance floor. Ignoring convention, Megan rested her arms on Paul’s shoulders, and began swaying her hips to the beat.

Following her lead, Paul placed his hands on her hips, and matched her movements. 

By the end of the song, Megan was no longer worrying about Cindy. “You’re not bad.”

He laughed. “I never said I was bad, only that it had been a while.”

The next song was a little slower, so Megan took the opportunity to press their bodies together. It was still a dance beat, but it almost reminded her of the steady rhythm of lovemaking. She took advantage and ground her pelvis into his. 

Paul looked around frantically, but when he realized that no one was paying the least bit of attention to them, he dug his fingers into her ass and mimicked the motion. They danced like this for several songs, adjusting the timing of their movements to the beat. It was one of the sexiest things she’d ever done. 

By the time the band finished their set, Megan was about to crawl out of her skin for want of him. The more they danced, the less it became about dancing and more about touching and rubbing against one another. All that was left was to shed their clothes and they would have been going at it like two rabbits in the middle of the dance floor.

Paul guided her over toward the bar. “I need something to drink.”

Megan couldn’t agree more. She was parched. Problem was she didn’t think anything at the bar was going to quench her thirst—not entirely, anyway.

Since he was driving, Paul ordered himself a coke. Megan got a margarita. They took their drinks across the room and found a table. 

The club was noisy, but not so much that you couldn’t hear the person next to you. It was another reason she’d chosen this particular club. It seemed classier than some of the others. That, and it wasn’t marketed to college students. Most of the people present were in their twenties and early thirties, but the club didn’t give off that sorority/fraternity vibe.

“Are you having a good time?” Megan asked.

He took a drink of his coke and leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

She ran a hand along his thigh, and this time he didn’t stop her. “Well, I didn’t want to assume . . .”

Paul shocked her when he grabbed hold of her wrist and placed her hand over his crotch. He was hard and pulsing against her palm. 

Megan swallowed and met his heated gaze. “I’ll be back.”

Removing her hand from his lap, she stood, and made a beeline for the bathroom. Once inside, Megan splashed some water on her neck so as not to ruin her makeup. She needed to cool down. The whole point of tonight was for them to get out and have some fun. In public. To see if they could be a couple outside the confines of Paul’s house.

She took a deep breath and waltzed back out into the main room of the club. Halfway back to their table, Megan caught sight of Paul. He looked somewhat lost sitting there all alone. She knew exactly how to remedy that. 

“You ready to take another go at the dance floor?”

“Don’t you want to finish your drink first?” he asked.

Megan picked up her margarita, took a long sip, and then reached for his hand. “I can multitask.”

The floor was more crowded this time, so Megan and Paul stuck to the outside of the designated dance floor. They swayed their hips to the music, commenting every now and then on the song or the original artist. She was having fun, and he was, too.

After a second full set from the band, Megan was ready to call it a night. They’d been teasing each other for almost two hours. All she wanted was to find a flat surface, lift up her skirt, and have him buried deep inside her. Paul was a cop, though, so she knew better than to suggest they find a dark corner to slake their lust. 

It took almost forty minutes for them to get home. By then, Megan was rubbing her legs together in an attempt to stave off the need to jump him. As it was, as soon as he’d parked the car in the driveway, Megan popped the button on her seat belt, and crawled across the console into Paul’s lap. 

Her ass hit the steering wheel, beeping the horn. She shifted a little, and then she heard Paul release his own seat belt and felt him slide the seat back as far as it would go. 

“I want you,” she murmured against his lips.

His response was a strangled moan.

Paul snaked his hands beneath her skirt, pushing it up around her waist. With the newfound freedom of movement, Megan parted her legs, and straddled him. He took hold of her hips and rotated his pelvis, giving her the friction she desired. 

“W-we should go inside.” His voice was strained as Megan continued to move against him. Her dress was up around her waist, and one of her breasts was exposed. They were making out like teenagers.

But they weren’t teenagers, and what Megan wanted to do to him was anything but childish. 

After a long kiss, Megan reluctantly removed herself from Paul’s lap. His hair was sticking up in spots, and half his shirt was unbuttoned. She also thought she saw a wet spot on his slacks. 

He moved first. “Come on. Let’s get inside before I forget all common sense and take you here, despite the consequences.”

Megan would have laughed, but she felt the same way. She needed him, and she was past caring about their surroundings.

They made it as far as the kitchen. He shut the door, flipped the lock, and then reached for her. 

Clothes disappeared quickly after that. They were inside their home with no one else around. All that mattered was her and Paul. 

He laid her flat out on the kitchen table and spread her legs. She was naked and more than ready for him. Paul had the patience of a saint, though. No matter how much she tried to hurry him along, he was determined to pleasure her first. 

Megan threaded her fingers through his hair as he knelt between her legs. She closed her eyes and let the feelings overwhelm her.
I love you.

Her world shattered, and her heart beat with every bit of love she felt for him. As he moved up her body, covering her, Megan wanted more than anything to tell him how she felt. But she wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet.

So instead of declaring her love for him, Megan let her body do the talking. She plunged her tongue inside his mouth, tasting herself on him. Paul hummed in response, meeting every thrust of her tongue with one of his own. 

“Upstairs,” he said in between kisses. “No condoms . . . down here.”

The last thing on Megan’s mind was condoms. She wanted him, and she wanted him now. “I’m on birth control. And I’m . . . I’m clean.”

He stopped, and she groaned.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Megan ran her fingers along his face and met his gaze. “I’m sure.”

Paul appeared to debate with himself for half a second. Then he reached between them and positioned himself at her entrance. She pushed her hips forward, encouraging him. 

As he slid inside her for the first time without protection, Megan had to bite her lip not to scream out. It was the best feeling. 

“You okay?” Beads of sweat dotted Paul’s forehead. 

She raised up to lick his lips with the tip of her tongue. “I’m more than okay. You?”

He closed his eyes and started to move. “You feel amazing. I want . . .”

Megan was trying not to get lost in how good everything felt. “You want what?”

“I don’t want to stop. Ever.” 

Paul picked up his pace, and she knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. They’d been teasing each other all night. It was one of the things she loved about dancing. When done right, it was the perfect aphrodisiac. 

Suddenly, he was pulling out of her, and she felt bereft. “What—”

Without saying anything, Paul led her up the stairs. She had no idea what was going on. Maybe he’d changed his mind about the condom, although she really hoped that wasn’t the case. Megan had gotten a taste of what making love to him was like without anything between them, and she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to go back. 

He surprised her when he bypassed her room and continued on to his. 

She looked at him with a startled expression. “Paul, we don’t—”

“Shh,” he said as he pulled her flush against him once more. 

Paul kissed her thoroughly until she was barely able to remember her own name, let alone whatever it was she was going to say.

He guided her over to the bed and eased her down onto the mattress. As he hovered over her, Megan saw something change in him. For the first time, she believed that Paul might actually be able to love her.

Chapter 23

Megan lay sprawled out on her back, trying to catch her breath. She’d had great sex before, but the last few hours had completely blown her previous experiences out of the water. And that didn’t even count the added sensation of him not wearing a condom.

Once Paul brought them to his bedroom, it was as if he’d wiped the slate clean, and they’d started from scratch. She couldn’t remember how many times she’d climaxed. Six times? Maybe it was seven. The amount really didn’t matter. What did matter was how attentive he’d been. By the time he found his own release, her entire body was vibrating with pleasure, and it felt as if all her bones had been liquefied. Maybe it was because he was older, but it seemed he knew exactly where to touch her to make her body sing. 

She felt the mattress move beside her, and then the next thing Megan knew Paul’s arm wrapped around her stomach. He pulled her flush against his chest, and she rolled over so that he could spoon her from behind. Megan knew things would be different with Paul—she loved him. What she hadn’t expected was how overwhelming it would feel. If something happened and she lost him, she didn’t know what she would do.

The deep rise and fall of Paul’s chest told her he’d fallen sleep. It took much longer for sleep to claim Megan. Before, she hadn’t fully understood what he must have gone through when he lost his wife, but she did now. She wondered how he’d survived it.

But she knew the answer to that, too. Chloe. She had been his reason for living—what kept him going for so long. 

Megan’s heart broke for all the pain he must have endured. More than anything, she wanted Paul to be happy, and she wanted to be part of that happiness. 

Eventually sleep claimed her, and she woke up to something tickling her cheek. Blinking open her eyes, Megan turned to see Paul propped up behind her, smiling. He had a tiny feather—most likely gleaned from one of the pillows—pinched between two fingers.

He leaned down to give her a brief kiss. “I was wondering if you were going to sleep the day away.”

She craned her neck to the side and stretched. Her muscles ached in a very good way. “What time is it?”

“After ten.”

That surprised her. “Aren’t you going in to work today?”

Paul shrugged. “I need to go in at some point for a few hours. It can wait, though.”

He kissed her again, but this time there was nothing quick about it. When he tried to deepen the kiss, however, she turned her head. “I should go brush my teeth.”

“I don’t care about that,” he grunted into her neck.

She laughed. “Yes, well, I do.”

He sighed and released her. “Fine. Go brush your teeth and get dressed. I’m taking you out for breakfast. Or I guess it might be lunch by the time we get there.”

Megan punched him lightly on the arm before hopping out of bed. “I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes.”

The sound of his laughter echoed down the hall after her as she dashed into her room to get ready. She gathered her hair up into a ponytail and took one of the quickest showers of her life. Throwing on some underwear, a pair of jeans, and a fitted T-shirt, Megan added a pair of flats and she was set. She arrived downstairs with a minute to spare.