Hadley
“Have you thought about, if you’re going to be working out of town more often, maybe getting a car? You can borrow mine whenever you want, it’s no problem, I was just thinking of maybe trading mine in for something smaller.”
Justin’s voice floated into the bathroom and I smiled at my reflection in the mirror.
No one told me it would feel this good. To have someone concerned about me. To have a man worried about me. Thinking about me. Considering me and making accommodations for me. And in reality, I thought someone trying to fit me into their life would feel heavier than this. I was expecting the weight to push me down. I never imagined it could lift me up.
I understood, even if it was a little late, why I pushed him away in the beginning. I must have known on some level that anything with Justin couldn’t possibly be casual.
I left my meeting that day with Aiden Daniels on a high and I did what I always did when I was in an extremely good mood: I went shopping. Retail therapy was real and even though shopping always lifted my mood when I was down, it could also sustain a high. Shopping was my most favorite thing. And lucky for Justin, that afternoon when I found myself with a couple hours free and a car I was able to hit my most favorite store.
Amante was a small, intimate, high-end lingerie boutique. When I wanted something classy and wanted to feel sexy, even if only for myself, that was where I went. And don’t get me wrong, no woman buys lingerie without thinking how a man would see her in it, but I’d never had a particular man in mind. Just men in general. But that afternoon I’d gone to Amante with Justin in mind.
I was hoping to surprise him, as well as inspire him.
I flipped the bathroom light off, took a deep breath to calm myself, and made my way into his bedroom.
He was standing next to his bed, close to a club chair he kept in the corner of his room to catch clothes. At least, that was what I assumed it was for since I never saw him sitting on it, but his clothes always ended up there at night. I’d held my tongue telling him that club chairs were really more for sitting rooms, meant to be placed next to a fireplace. I thought of suggesting an ottoman or even a winged chair—typically found more in bedrooms—but I was waiting until our relationship was fully cemented to give him decorating advice.
“You could drive my SUV, but I think it’s a little big for you. But, I don’t know, maybe you need something big to haul furniture. But we could go look at some smaller electric cars.” He pulled on the end of his belt, freeing it from the clasp, and I watched as his biceps rippled with the action.
Somehow, Justin found time to work out. I wasn’t sure if he’d been to the gym since we’d gotten back from Vegas, but I knew from months of trying to stay away from him that he definitely spent time at a gym. Men didn’t have arms and abs like his without earning them.
He unzipped his suit pants and lifted one leg out, then the other, and tossed them on that damned chair, belt and all. He stood there in just his boxer briefs and reached for the comforter, pulling it back. Just when he looked as though he was about to climb into bed, he glanced over at where I stood leaning against the threshold to the bedroom.
“Jesus, Hadley,” he said in a strained voice, his eyes moving up and down my body rapidly.
“You like?” I asked coyly, looking down at myself. The cups of my bra were made of a very open lace pattern and I knew they hid nothing. Same with the tiny scrap of lace that made up the matching panties. Something about black lace lingerie felt serious. This was not fun, sexy underwear. No, this was serious. I didn’t want Justin, my husband, to look at me and think I looked good. I wanted him to put his hands on me, to feel me, to feel good with me, make me feel good too.
In all honesty, there wasn’t much to the lingerie, which was probably why it was so expensive. Good lingerie—the kind you only got to wear for a few minutes before it was removed—was always worth the money you paid for it, even if you were eating ramen for a month to cover the cost.
“I like very much,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Come here.”
I don’t know why I hesitated. What did I expect when I bought the lingerie and then put it on? I expected to be ravished. We would need to be closer for that to occur. But walking toward him was difficult. It felt as though every step was permanent. The closer I got to him, the more I wanted him, and I didn’t think the need for him would ever dissipate. So, going to him in that moment was sealing my fate.
But I did it.
I walked to him.
And I watched as his eyes took in every single part of me, his gaze only meeting mine when I was standing just inches away.
He sat slowly on the bed, his hands coming to my waist and pulling me closer. He trailed his thumbs up my sides softly and every part of me shuddered at his touch. His mouth touched my belly just above my navel. The contact of his mouth against my skin caused my knees to wobble and my hands went to his shoulders just to hold myself up.
His left hand slid up my torso, sliding slowly over the lace of my bra, as his right hand moved down and caught my leg behind my knee, pulling it up on the bed.
I straddled him, eyes closed, simply reveling every part of his body touching mine. His mouth moving up to my breast, his hand gripping my ass, the way his cock was straining against me—it was all overwhelming.
Suddenly he was moving and I was on my back, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, urging him closer. My panties were gone, then my bra, and then his briefs.
Then it was just him and me.
And nothing else.
“Tell me what you need,” he whispered between raining kisses down my neck and along my collarbone.
I didn’t have the words for him. What I needed was too big, too much, too great to ask for. So instead, I simply answered, “Just you.”