Chronicles of a Serial Dater - Book 7: A New Adult Romantic Comedy (10 page)

I grunted as I shifted from his lap, clutching my calf. “I’m sorry,” I said through gritted teeth. “Cramp.”

Way to ruin the moment,
I chastised myself.

Clint shifted to his knees and took my ankle in one hand, pulling my leg straight. I fell onto my back and pressed my lips together to keep from crying out.

“It’ll be over in a minute,” he said as he gently massaged the cramp out.

With an arm over my eyes, I laughed. “Just want a girl wants to hear.”

When the cramp subsided a few moments later, I realized what sort of position we were in. The pain a distant memory with the promise of so much pleasure, I beckoned to him.

“I have to make sure you don’t cramp anywhere else,” he said seriously.

He lifted both my feet in the air. With deft fingers, he unhooked the strap on my shoes and pulled them off, gently kissing each ankle. He let the left one fall to the side while he worked the muscles in my right as if giving a sports massage.

“And here? Does this feel good?” he asked as he kneaded up my thigh.

“Uh huh.”

“Good. And this?”

A curl touched my lip when I noticed he was as excited about this massage as I was, his jeans bulging.

“Perfect.”

The skirt slid to my waist, exposing my underwear. I loved the way his expression shifted as his fingers drew closer. I arched a tiny bit, encouraging, urging. I wanted to see his face when he touched the damp fabric between my legs.

Starting at my hip, his index finger ran along beneath the elastic. This time he didn’t stop as he delved between my legs. His lips parted slightly as he traced my wet crease, slipping inside a fraction before traveling back up.

I threw my arms over my head and lifted my hips to him. “That felt nice, too,” I purred. Just a little seductress coming out…

Clint placed my foot on the floor, freeing both hands to explore. He raised the fabric on either side, fingers working in unison around my swollen clit. I closed my eyes and moaned, arching into the touch.

With a deep, rumbling groan, he knelt between my thighs. He placed his mouth over my mound and breathed in deeply, the cold air making me gasp. A rush of hot breath quickly replaced the cold, sending shivers across my skin.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

He pulled my panties to the side and teased my swollen lips with little licks and kisses. Any moment I was sure he was going to pull me to the brink with his tongue, but he continued with the sweet torture until I couldn’t take it anymore.

I grabbed his hair and moaned, “If you aren’t inside me in ten seconds, I’m going to scream.”

He chuckled against my thigh but didn’t hesitate. Hooking his thumbs around my waistband, he yanked my panties free, leaving the skirt pooled around my waist.

Clint stood, unbuckled his jeans, and stepped free. I unashamedly roamed his body with my eyes. Hard muscles, perfectly toned for strength and speed. A few patches of dark hair on his chest and stomach only added to his rugged, manly frame. And when my eyes fell between his legs, I sputtered and coughed.

“Okay, I’m definitely going to scream when you’re inside me,” I blinked.

As he settled onto his knees and pulled me to the edge of the seat, he looked ravenous. He hooked a hand around the back of my neck as he teased my wet entrance with the tip of his cock. Our eyes locked. My breathing quickened. With an agonizingly slow pace, he carefully worked his hips until he was buried deep inside me.

I’m not one for overly romantic exclamations, but the moment we connected like that… I don’t know. I felt complete. It was like I’d been waiting my whole life to feel that filled and joined.

With his broad hands splayed across my narrow hips, Clint slowly worked up a gentle pace. Every few strokes, his thumb grazed my aching clit. Then every stroke. And with a steady pace, it took no time before I was writhing under his expert touch.

My hair stuck to my skin with sweat and sounds I’d never made before were flowing from my lips, but I didn’t care. This was the most amazing sex I’d ever had and I was about to explode.

Without breaking the rhythm, he held my clit between both thumbs and gently coaxed the most incredible orgasm from my body. My fingernails dug into the leather seat above my head as I arched in complete bliss. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me, flushing my skin, pulling him deeper.

When I started to relax, he scooped me from behind, half holding me in his arms as he thrust into me. I clung to his neck, nipples brushing his chest with every bounce. With a hand to the back of my head, he buried his face in my hair and groaned, muscles tensing. My ears were still ringing, but I think he may have whispered my name.

When his breathing returned to normal, we shifted onto the seat together, laying on our sides. Clint draped his arm over my waist and softly kissed my shoulder and neck.

“That did go a little faster than I’d hoped,” he whispered.

“It was my fault. I was pretty… demanding,” I chuckled.

I rolled over and snuggled into his arms, feeling safe and deliriously happy.

“You had this planned from the beginning,” I mumbled as I ran my fingers through his chest hair.

He laughed, the sound vibrating in my ear. “Actually, I’d planned to tease you for the whole flight and hopefully make it to the hotel before we jumped into bed. But all in all, it was pretty perfect.”

“If it makes you feel any better, we still haven’t technically made it into bed,” I said as I peered up at him.

He kissed my forehead. “We do have all weekend…”

“And a few more hours here.” A bubble of excitement made my core clench, so I deflected with a joke. “I promise you, though. If Anette shows up or is involved in anything…”

“I hear you. Loud and clear,” he smiled, pulling a blanket over my shoulders.

Even though the whole weekend had been one amazing moment followed by another, I kept circling back to one question. I tried to get myself to forget it. I told myself it didn’t matter, but as we sat quietly at the little breakfast table in our hotel room, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“I have to ask something,” I ventured before taking a sip of coffee.

Clint looked up from his newspaper and saw the serious look on my face. “Okay,” he said as he folded the paper and set it to the side.

“Why so many dates? You knew I was pretty much a sure thing,” I laughed, holding my cheek in my hand.

“No woman is a sure thing.”

“You know what I mean.” I rested my elbows on the table and fixed my expression. “You could’ve said two words to me and had me in bed. Hell, you probably could’ve sealed the deal that night we first had dinner.”

He laughed a little self-consciously. “I had no interest in sealing any deal. You’re a smart woman.”

“Even smart women get horny,” I chided.

Clint leaned back in his chair and considered me. “You want to know what all those other guys did wrong?”

I glanced at my imaginary watch and frowned. “I didn’t realize we had an extra week.” When he didn’t laugh, I conceded. “What? What did they do wrong?”

“They didn’t seduce your mind. Any boy can get a girl into bed, but you aren’t a girl. You’re a woman, and a very intelligent woman at that.” He leaned forward, steepling his fingers as he spoke. “I wanted you mind, body, and soul.”

I felt a blush rise in my cheeks when I realized he’d done just that. I didn’t know what to say. It was the first time someone had ever attempted to get into my mind as well as my pants. I reached across the table for his hand.

“Before you go thinking I’m some kind of player, you have to realize I did it for selfish reasons too. I haven’t connected with someone in a very long time. When we met, I thought maybe…” He trailed off. He wasn’t growing emotional but I could tell he didn’t really know how to finish.

“It’s okay. I know exactly what you mean.”

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you as well,” he said. I thought I might’ve detected a touch of anxiety there too.

“Go for it,” I said casually, inside freaking out.

“Do you want to date? Like, see each other? I mean, exclusively.”

I froze. I hadn’t been expecting anything like this. “Really?”

“I know it’s difficult with our work schedules and all, but I’d like to think the last couple weeks have been good. Plus, it’s not like I’ll be traveling forever. I’d like it if…”

I could tell he was starting to devolve into nervous rambling, a state I was intimately familiar with.

“Of course I want to go out with you!” I jumped from my chair and rushed to his side of the table, flinging myself down on his lap. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

He pushed the hair from my face and kissed me tenderly. This close, I could see the flecks of gold buried in his green eyes. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Clint English feels fear?” I gasped behind my hand.

He took my palm and kissed it. “When it comes to the thought of losing you, yes.” I was at a complete loss for words, which he seemed to anticipate. “Want to take a shower?”

“Sure, sounds great.”

“I knew you’d say that,” he replied, cocky grin back in place.

I stood from his lap, kissed him again, and watched as he approached far door. “You know, you aren’t perfect at everything,” I said.

“Is that a fact?”

“Your poetry kinda sucks,” Clint stuck his head out from the bathroom and waggled his eyebrows, so I added, “Demure doesn’t rhyme with adventure.”

“It does when I say it. Beside, it got you here, didn’t it?” He blew a raspberry and disappeared.

I giggled and pulled out my phone when I heard the water switch on in the bathroom. “You coming?” he called out.

“One second.”

I held my thumb on the Tinder app until the icon jiggled in place. A bright red X appeared at the top corner. Without an ounce of hesitation, I hit delete. My time as a serial dater had come to an end. Even if it was temporary, even if Clint and I split up a month from now, my time in the crazy world of online dating had taught me a lot about myself. At the end of the day, isn’t that all we can really hope for?

Three months later, December

“No, that’s all wrong,” I insisted as we walked down the sidewalk. I was careful to watch my step after an early winter storm had blanketed the city with snow.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is,” Clint replied firmly. He walked at my side, hands stuffed into his jacket.

“Well, I refuse to accept it and frankly, I’m not very keen on being involved now.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, forcing someone behind us to correct course at the last second to avoid hitting him.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he huffed.

I resisted the urge to smile. I slammed my arms across my chest and gave him a brusque nod. “Yes. I am.”

Clint groaned and rolled his chin to his chest in defeat before falling back into step. “There
has
to be a compromise.”

I flung my hands out dramatically. “I don’t see how!”

“Well, and I’m just thinking off the cuff here… maybe we could make you something different?”

I replied with mock exasperation. “I don’t understand why you insist on having turkey on Christmas in the first place. Turkey is for Thanksgiving. We just had it. I think I might even still have some in my fridge.”