10. Blakely

CHAPTER 10

BLAKELY

Early morning light trickles in through my blinds, and I stretch awake, shaking off some of the deepest sleep I've had in months. My limbs feel uncharacteristically loose, and there's a pleasant soreness between my thighs that I can't quite place?—

I bolt upright in my bed, holding my comforter around my naked body.

Memories from last night crash over me, little waves of shock rippling beneath my skin at every steamy scene that replays in my mind.

Lawson being too adorable with the ice cream and Bridgerton marathon, us falling asleep together, and then me waking up with him in my bed and a desire that overtook every other rationality in my mind.

I clench my eyes shut, shaking my head at my boldness. I don't regret it, but good lord, I’d practically jumped the man. Of course, he didn't seem opposed to the situation. In fact, he rose to the challenge and sent me soaring over edges I've never even approached before.

Just the thought of his touch, his kiss, his body plunging into mine sent sizzling shivers right down my spine.

All those warm, melty feelings are instantly iced out the second the present catches up to me.

My bed is empty . There's nothing but silence coming from my bathroom.

Lawson left.

I don't know when. He could’ve left thirty minutes after we finished for all I know. That's how quickly I fell asleep after the triple-orgasm fest he delivered.

My shoulders sink, my heart dropping into my stomach.

I said no strings .

We both agreed to that.

So why am I upset that he isn’t lying next to me right now? Is it because it makes me feel like I used him? Or like I’m an afterthought?

I mean, it’s not like I wanted him to kiss me good morning and tell me how beautiful I was or anything, but sticking around for a proper goodbye didn't seem like too much to ask.

But what did I really know? I've never had a one-night stand before, especially not with somebody I consider a friend , let alone someone I work with.

My head falls into my hands, and I shake it. What was I thinking?

You were thinking that the chemistry between you and Lawson was too much to take, and you wanted to satisfy that ache that’s throbbed since the first time he kissed you.

I blow out a breath, hopping out of bed and quickly running through my morning routine, throwing on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt before heading toward my kitchen and much needed coffee?—

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and bacon hits me the minute I step outside of my room, and I pause barefoot in the hallway.

Clinking pans sound from my kitchen, and I timidly walk that direction.

My lips part, a half gasp, half laugh escaping past them at the sight of Lawson flipping pancakes at my small stove. His back is toward me, and he's wearing nothing but my frilly pink apron, giving me the perfect view of his naked ass.

He glances over his shoulder, his grin widening as he glances at my shocked expression. “Hope you don't mind I borrowed the apron,” he says, before turning back to the stove. He flips a pancake onto a plate that’s already piled high with them, and then flicks off the burner.

“You look better in it than I do,” I say, still slightly bamboozled at the scene before me.

“I'm not so sure about that,” he says as he fills two plates with pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. He scoops them up and takes them over to my small table just outside of the kitchen, setting them next to two mugs of already steaming coffee. “Maybe you can try it on for me later and we can compare?” he asks as he pulls out my chair and nods to it.

I'm at a loss for words, so I do as he suggests, and sit.

“You go ahead and dig in,” he says. “I'll be right back.’

He reaches behind him and unties the apron, making sure he’s facing me as he replaces it on the little hook I have at the entryway of my kitchen.

I pause with my mug almost to my lips, completely forgetting that I was about to take a drink of the much-needed life-elixir with Lawson full-frontal this early in the morning. God, he's gorgeous in this light. I hadn't got a good look last night in the darkness, but I’d felt him, and the sight matches exactly how he made me feel.

Tons of smooth skin stretches over even more corded muscle, and there’s ink decorating the left side of his chest, whorls of black that sharpens at certain edges and smooths off at others. A pair of V-lines trail perfectly down to his sizable length, and my mouth goes dry at the memory of just what that amazing body wrenched out of me last night.

“Hey,” he says, snapping playfully and pointing to his face. “My eyes are up here.” He laughs, and I join in before he spins around and heads back toward my bedroom.

I finally take a sip of coffee, sighing as the hot liquid slides down my throat. The first couple sips help clear the last sleepy dregs from my mind, and I pick up my fork and take a bite of the pancake as instructed. I moan around the sweet flavor, closing my eyes for a moment as I take another bite.

“Oh, so you make sexy sounds when you eat too,” he says, returning to the table now wearing only the sweatpants he wore last night, and takes the seat next to me. “Good to know.”

“You stayed,” I finally say after taking a few more bites, unable to fully find the words I need to explain how I feel right now.

Lawson swallows the massive bite he just took, looking at me curiously. “You asked me to,” he says, a little panic streaking through his hazel eyes. His fork and knife lower to the plate before him. “Shit, you assured me you were awake, Blakely. Were you not? Because?—”

“I was awake,” I hurry to cut him off, wanting to soothe the panic rippling over his features.

“Fuck,” he says blowing out a breath. “Don't do that to me. I almost lost my appetite and that would’ve been tragic after the spread I just made.” He takes another giant bite, somehow managing to get a piece of everything on his fork and shoving it into that wicked mouth of his.

“Sorry,” I say after taking another bite. “I just…when I woke up this morning and you weren't there...” I let my voice trail off, shaking my head at myself and trying to hide behind another few bites. It’s such a ridiculous notion, especially when he'd been in here making this sweet breakfast for me.

“Oh shit,” he says, nodding. “I see where your mind went. My bad. I know I have a reputation for playing the field,” he continues. “But I'm not an asshole. Everyone who I’ve been with before always knows what's going to happen before it happens. So, if we agree to one night and then me leaving, that's what happens. But you asked me to stay, so I did. Plus, you're not exactly like anyone else, are you?”

“No,” I say. “I suppose not.”

Silence descends around us as we continue to eat our breakfast. Lawson continues to flash me questioning looks with a little bit of hope on his face.

“No one has ever done anything like this for me before,” I admit, after another sip of coffee. “This is awesome. Thank you.”

His grin is breathtaking and makes my heart flutter in my chest at the pride that clearly shuffles through him at my compliment. “I'm flattered,” he says. “But it's also kind of a shame that nobody's ever made you pancakes before. It's not like it's hard.”

I shrug and continue eating.

“So, what are your plans for today?” he asks, his plate cleaned as he leans back in the chair with his coffee mug in his hand.

“It's Sunday,” I say. “My day off. I normally catch up on laundry and shows. Thrilling, I know. You?”

His full lips shape that wolfish grin that’s become associated with the thrill of anticipation every time he flashes it at me. “Today is my day off too,” he says. “And I have big plans.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” I ask before popping another bite into my mouth.

“First, I'm going to feed you. That task is already halfway done,” he says, eying my nearly finished plate. “Second, I'm going to clean up the mess I just made in your kitchen?—”

“You don't have to do that,” I cut him off, but he raises a hand and continues like I didn't say anything.

“And third,” he says. “I'm going to fuck you on this table.” He says the words so matter-of-factly that I'm not sure I hear him correctly.

I swallow my bite a little too hard and take a large sip of coffee, my eyes widening as they meet his.

“How does that sound to you?” he asks, nothing but confidence and sex and lust radiating from those eyes.

“Um,” I say, my heart racing.

It sounds amazing to me, but isn’t this more intimate than either one of us signed up for? I mean, he made me breakfast for fuck’s sake, but then he also said he wanted to fuck me on this table which didn't really sound like boyfriend material, did it?

Not that I would really know because the only boyfriend I ever had turned out to be a toxic selfish prick. But Lawson knows where I stand, and I know where he stands, so what’s the harm in it?

I take my last few bites, quickly standing up to grab both of our empty plates and taking them to the kitchen. “I'm done,” I finally say, hoping he interprets that as answer enough.

I'm pretty sure he does because he's behind me in an instant, gently pushing me out of the way so he can get to the sink where all the dishes are piled.

“You go sit,” he says. “I need you all settled and recharged before I get my hands on you.”

A giggle rips from my lips, and I'm unable to stop it, a blush raking down my cheeks and my neck, making my skin feel warm and too tight at the same time.

I do as I'm told because I honestly don't know how to respond to such intense confidence. He says the words like he knows I’ll never say no. And somehow, there’s still a level of control on my end of it with me fully understanding that if I did say no he’d never press the issue.

Somehow, that endears him to me in a way that no amount of endless orgasms can.

Not to mention the man is cleaning up after cooking breakfast for me. I always heard everybody talk about how it's the small things that matter and that if he wanted to he would , but I never thought in a million years that Lawson Wolfe would be one of those types of men.

He’s certainly full of surprises, and I find myself eager to uncover every single one he has.

My knee bounces in anticipation as I wait, and I swear the man cleans the kitchen slowly on purpose to wind me up even more.

No amount of scrolling on my phone or checking in with the girls on the group text helps distract me from the very real fact that he said he was going to have his way with me once he was done. Putting a time frame on it only heightened every sense I had, all of my nerve endings sparking to life anytime he glances my way.

“There can't be anything else to clean,” I finally say after I can't take it any longer. All the memories from last night are still fresh in my mind, my body responding to just the thought of the things we did.

A soft chuckle rumbles from his chest as he dries his hands on a dish towel before putting it back on my oven handle.

He walks out of the kitchen, but takes up a good lean against the entryway, his eyes slowly trailing over my body, which I suddenly am painfully aware probably looks like a hot mess.

I threw my hair in a bun, and the sweats and T-shirt combo I'd grabbed from my room were definitely not the outfit I would’ve chosen if I knew I'd find him in my kitchen. Still, he’s looking at me like I’m the dessert he needs after that big meal.

“A little eager are we, damsel?” he teases.

I open and close my mouth a few times, searching for the perfect quip that will put his painfully large ego in its place.

But I don't find one because he's not wrong.

“Can you blame me?” I ask, and his eyebrows raise as if that wasn't the answer he expected. “I've never experienced what I did last night at your hands. Naturally, I want another taste. Is that wrong?” I ask, my tone edging on the side of serious instead of playful.

Lawson shakes his head. “The only thing wrong about it is that you weren't properly taken care of before. Thank fuck you met me in the bar that night.”

I laugh softly, looking up at him as he makes his way over and stops before me where I sit in the chair. “Thank goodness you’re so gracious with your time and experience to enlighten me,” I say as sarcastically as I can. “Hero indeed.”

He smirks, bending down to where his mouth hovers just a breath above mine, making my pulse spike. “You're welcome,” he says. “Now, another demonstration of my graciousness, my darling,” he says in his most perfect imitation of the gentlemen we watched all night before on Bridgerton, and goddamn it makes me liquid.

Molten.

And before I can even dare to say something else, his mouth slants over mine, erasing all logical thought from my mind, and replacing it with nothing but pure primal sensation.

My hands fly to his bare chest, and I stand, needing to feel more of him against me.

His lips are hungry, his tongue parting mine and rubbing into my mouth, making me gasp as tendrils of heat spiral toward my core.

Damn, the guy is a good kisser. I didn't know kisses like this existed. The perfect combination of perceptive and consuming.

His powerful hands roam over my body, teasing my breasts over my shirt before working his way down to my hips, gripping them gently before he hooks his fingers into the band of my sweatpants.

He pulls away, just enough to gauge my reaction, and I shimmy my hips, helping him work them down my legs before stepping out of them and leaving myself bare before him.

“Fuck, damsel,” he growls at the sight. “No panties? You were ready for me, weren't you?”

I kiss him hard and quickly, nipping at his bottom lip before pulling back. “I didn't even know you were here,” I fire back.

He kisses me back with equal intensity before pulling away. “Doesn’t make a difference, now does it?”

I shake my head, then gather my shirt and pull it over my head, tossing it on the floor in a bold move that surprises even me. There’s nothing but bright light in this room. There’s nowhere for me to hide, no blankets to shimmy under. I’m completely naked before someone as perfectly gorgeous as Lawson Wolfe, and somehow, I feel like a goddess. It’s probably because of the way he’s looking at me…like he’s never wanted anyone more.

“Fuck,” he says, his eyes trailing the length of my body. “You’re so damn gorgeous.”

I draw closer to him, my peaked nipples just grazing his bare chest, and electricity shoots across my skin at the contact. He captures my mouth again, and my arms fly up around his neck, one hand tangling in his silky dark hair.

He tears away for a moment, reaching into his sweatpants pocket and retrieving something before he drops his pants, his cock springing free in all its glory.

My eyes snag on the foil packet in his hand, watching as he tears that open. “You grabbed one when you put on clothes? So cocky,” I tease.

He smirks down at me, rolling the condom over his hard dick. “It's always good to be prepared,” he says, his voice gravelly with desire.

His mouth is on mine again before I can respond, his hands on my hips as he perches me on to the table, and steps between my thighs.

The position is very much like that time in Clay's office, but this time, there’s nothing separating us.

A throb takes up residence between my thighs, and I arch against his body, breathless and achy, and when he draws back, I whimper.

“Almost,” he assures me before he drops to his knees, and I go entirely still. The position brings him eye level right where I'm aching for him, and a bolt of self-consciousness races through me. He must see it, because he gently smooths his hands over my thighs, and asks, “Is this all right?”

I'm trembling now, his warm breath washing over my center in the biggest tease I've ever felt.

“Yeah,” I say, but my voice cracks. “I've just never... I've never...”

Realization clicks in his eyes, the little flash of anger bursting there before he smooths it away. He dips his head down, keeping his eyes on me as he slowly licks through my center, and up to my clit.

I gasp, my hips arching off the table and into the brazen sensation.

“You've never had someone lick you before?” he asks, so close to my heat that the vibrations from his words make me shudder.

I shake my head, unable to find my voice, and his grin deepens as he holds my stare and licks me again.

My head tilts back, the sensations storming through me like a bolt of white-hot lightning.

Lawson no longer hesitates, his strong hands spreading me ever so slightly as his tongue plunges into my center just like his cock did last night. I gasp, my pulse skittering beneath my skin as he licks and laps at me, working me up in the most incredibly slow and strong build that I've ever felt before.

I whimper as he plunges his tongue inside me before dragging it up and circling it around my swollen clit. It's pulsing, aching, begging for attention and friction and pressure. But Lawson holds me on that sharp, sweet edge that’s radiating and keening inside my entire body.

“You taste like fucking heaven,” he says, against my flesh. “I've wanted to get my mouth on your sweet pussy since the night I tasted you on my fingers.”

His words are like lava streaking through my veins, and I'm going molten for this man. “Lawson,” I beg. “Please.”

“You want to come on my tongue, baby?”

I bite my bottom lip and nod, my hips arching off the table as I seek out more of that perfect mouth of his.

His hands slip from my thighs, sliding behind my ass and pressing me closer to his mouth as he proceeds to unleash himself on me. He licks and laps at me before making his way to my aching clit and sucking on it hard, flattening his tongue over it as I rock against the much-needed pressure?—

“Lawson!” His name is a plea as my orgasm rips through me, causing my entire body to tremble and sending delightful sparks of blissful energy cascading everywhere.

I've barely caught my breath before Lawson is standing, situating his hard, condom-covered cock and rubbing it through my oversensitive flesh. I jolt at the touch, shivering as he inches inside me slowly.

“You want more?” he asks, stilling himself only an inch inside me, and somehow that sense of control he gives me makes me even more wet for him.

“More,” is the only answer I can articulate, but I wiggle my hips, taking in more of him to show him exactly what I want.

A low growl rumbles from his chest, and in a flash those hands on my ass haul me against him as he thrusts inside me, bottoming out in the most delicious way.

My arms fly around his neck, holding onto him as he pulls all the way out and slams home again, the motion rattling the table I'm perched atop. But I don't care. I don't care if we break the damn thing, I just want him to keep going.

And he does, his mouth capturing mine as he pulls out and slams home over and over again, our breaths matched and ragged as we claw at each other, this pace set fast and hard and perfect.

“Blakely,” he groans against my mouth as my nails dig into his back, my hips arching off the table to meet him thrust for thrust. He grips my ass harder, pounding into me, the position we're in allowing him to hit my oversensitive clit at the same time he bottoms out over and over again. My pleasure spirals inside me, building and building beneath my skin like a storm ready to explode.

“Omigod,” I moan, feeling my entire being tighten around him. “Lawson, omigod ,” I say again, unable to find any more words as my mind is splintering into white-hot pieces of starlight as he thrusts into me quicker, harder.

My thighs clench around him, and I feel his muscles bunch beneath his skin as he pistons his hips, the speed and position send me cascading over the edge again.

I moan, my pussy pulsing through my orgasm, clenching around him and drawing his own release right after mine. He groans, his forehead dropping to my shoulder as his hips jerk while he comes.

I lean my head against his, trying to catch my breath and slow my heart rate. My entire body feels loose and unhinged, like Lawson just pulled the one thread that was holding me together and sent me unraveling.

Lawson pulls back enough to meet my eyes, smiling at me before he kisses me quickly and gently pulls out. He doesn't get far before he scoops me into his arms, carrying me to my bedroom and laying me gently on the bed before he goes into my bathroom to clean up. He returns and hesitates at the edge of my bed.

“Should we nap or marathon the show some more?”

My heart does the strangest little thing at the sincerity of the question, and I tell it to be cautious. Lawson and I may be compatible in the bedroom, and we may even be inching toward being really good friends, but the last thing either one of us wants is to get attached.

But despite repeating this silently, I find myself smiling at him, helpless against his charm. “I'm up for another marathon,” I say. He nods, hopping over to the opposite side of the bed and snuggling under the covers next to me.

He grabs the remote and turns on my TV as if it's the most natural thing in the world for us to do. And I find myself wondering how the hell I settled for something so little, when Lawson isn’t even officially attached to me and is already giving me more than I could ever ask for.