Man Crush Monday Read online

  Adorable. The word sends a shiver of happiness down my spine.

  “So, you live here alone?” he asks.

  I nod absentmindedly. “Yep, just me. I used to flatshare with Heather, but she went and got engaged and abandoned me about two years ago. I didn’t want to share with a stranger but couldn’t afford our two-bed place on my own, so I moved in here.”

  This place is a one-bedroom and barely big enough for me to swing a cat around in, let alone share with someone else.

  I motion to the sofa and pick up the TV remote, turning it on and opening Netflix. “You sit down. I’ll go see if I have anything in for us to drink.” I hand him the remote. “You can choose something to watch.”

  “Ah, let’s see what I can learn about you from your watch list.”

  He smiles, and I leave him flicking through while I head to the kitchen, thankful that I went shopping over the weekend and have loads of Dr Pepper and wine in the fridge. When I turn back, he’s musing over some movies that I bookmarked.

  “I don’t have much choice, I’m afraid.” I hold up the drink options, and he points to a can of Dr Pepper. I inwardly smile. “Good choice.”

  I slide the wine back into the fridge and head back, slipping into the seat next to him, conscious of how close we are and how he has little silver cufflinks personalised with his initials in his sleeves.

  “So, what did you learn about me?” I joke, watching as he slides through categories.

  He raises one eyebrow. “That you like true-crime documentaries and old-school slasher horror flicks as well as the occasional tearjerker. Not a bad choice in movies. I can work with it.”

  I smile as he gets to my Top Picks for Amy section. “I think Netflix knows me better than, like, ninety-nine percent of people,” I joke, seeing all the recommendations.

  He purses his lips. “So, what do you want to watch? I honestly don’t mind. There are a few things on your watch list I haven’t seen.”

  I shrug. “I don’t mind. Just maybe not a series. I don’t think we’re ready for that kind of commitment.”

  He chuckles, and we settle on some action film that neither of us has seen. It surprises me that he didn’t choose some sci-fi or fantasy-type film. Maybe he thinks I don’t like nerdy stuff and is trying to keep me sweet by hiding that side of himself for a while.

  The opening sequence has not long finished when the doorbell rings, and Jared pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll get it.”

  “Great. I’ll get some plates.” I smile and watch his back as he walks to the door and collects the food while I choose a couple of plates from the cupboard, taking my time, trying to find two that match.

  He’s already eating a slice of pizza as he walks back to the sofa. An appreciative groan leaves his mouth that makes my stomach clench.

  “Oh my God, carbs,” he says.

  And I fall in love with him a little bit more.

  We eat, and I pretend to watch the movie, but I can’t concentrate. Even though it’s got Ben Affleck and Charlie Hunnam combined, it still isn’t enough to take my attention from Jared. He’s too close. This is like all my secret fantasies coming true. I can’t contain my grin.

  Halfway through the film, his hand closes over mine, pulling it into his lap, and he proceeds to rub small, gentle circles over my knuckles. I swallow. It’s so erotic, but I don’t know why. I feel my nipples pucker, and my sex clenches with a longing, burning need. I squirm in my seat, trying to relieve the ache but it’s no use.

  When he turns and catches my eye, the air in the room seems to shoot up a couple of degrees. My breath catches as his eyes flick to my lips, and I can’t contain myself any longer. I lean in as he does, and our lips meet.

  The kiss is sweet, just soft and tentative at first, but as his teeth nip at my bottom lip, I melt against him, and his hand tangles into the back of my hair, just like I wanted. My skin prickles with goosebumps as I press against him, our tongues sliding against each other. My arms wind around his neck as he pulls me closer.

  The kiss gets hotter and hotter, and I feel the moment he loses his restraint. The kiss turns primal, almost animalistic, as his hands grip my hips and pull me onto his lap, so I’m straddling him. The new position takes my body to a whole other level of excited as I feel the hardness of his erection between my thighs.

  I pull back and press my forehead to his. I’m so turned on that it’s uncomfortable. His eyes are almost black with desire. His scent attacks me, making my mouth water. All I can think about is him and the need to be closer, to get hot, sweaty, and naked with him.

  I gulp. Are we really about to do this on a second date? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I shouldn’t.

  He leans in again, his mouth pressing urgently against mine; his tongue massaging mine sets my stomach fluttering with something akin to desperation, and I just about lose my damn mind.

  Yes, we’re most certainly doing this.

  six

  I gasp as Jared gently tugs on my hair, tipping my head back so he can kiss my throat. A needy whimper slips from my mouth. I’m so overexcited that I’m like a rocket, waiting to go off. I’ve dreamed of this moment for months, and now that it’s happening, it’s better than anything I could have envisioned.

  When I feel his fingers toying with the bottom of my jumper, I pull back and raise my arms as he pulls it over my head, tossing it to the floor. His hands tickle down my back as his head dips forward, kissing around my collarbone as he palms my thighs.

  “God, you’re perfect,” he breathes, his eyes sweeping over me.

  I secretly congratulate myself for choosing my sexiest, skimpiest underwear.

  I kiss him again as my fingers work deftly, unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it from the waistband of his trousers. My greedy hands find hot skin and skim over tight muscles. When the kiss breaks, I look down, and my eyes widen.

  “Holy shit. I didn’t think people looked like this outside of movies and Love Island,” I blurt.

  Jared laughs and shakes his head. “I hate that show.”

  “What? You hate Love Island?” I fake gasp my outrage as he nods, his amused eyes meeting mine. “Maybe we’re not compatible after all,” I joke.

  He chuckles. His fingers digging into my skin make my mouth dry with desire.

  I gulp, my eyes drinking him in. His body is amazing—toned, tanned, perfect. He’s not too muscly, more lean, like a swimmer’s body. He has a six-pack, but it’s sexily subtle. There’s a small smattering of hair below his navel and that delicious V that I honestly have never seen in real life.

  He. Is. Beautiful.

  “You work out a lot, I’m guessing.” My voice is a husky, lusty mess.

  I trace my nose up the side of his, breathing him in.

  The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smile that almost seems shy. “I run a bit, yeah.”

  I reach out and touch the little freckle under his left eye before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on it. “My idea of cardio is running out of fucks to give.”

  He laughs, and I kiss him, fisting my hand in the back of his hair, pressing my chest against his, skin on skin. It’s delightful.

  His hands stroke up my thighs, over my hips, and up the side of my ribs, his thumbs skimming the material at the bottom of my bra. It makes me shiver with pleasure and arch against him.

  He groans into my mouth, and his arms tighten on me, turning and manoeuvring us so we’re lying on the sofa. The weight of his body on mine is so delicious that it almost makes me giddy with desire. My nails dig into his shoulders as he kisses me again, his hand cupping my jaw as his tongue brushes expertly against mine, drawing out my excitement.

  When he reaches out and tugs down the cup of my bra, bringing his face down and closing his mouth over my nipple, my whole body tightens in pleasure, and I moan his name.

  My skirt is already bunched up around my hips, so when he grinds against me, I gasp and wrap one of my legs around him, pulling him closer. The friction is killing
me. I need more. Much, much more.

  The kiss deepens, and his hands explore my body as mine do his. My skin is alive with sensation, my core aching. His fingers brush over my underwear, and a bolt of pleasure pulses over me. My body spasms, and my hips press up, pushing harder against his hand. He raises one eyebrow, and I’m too far gone to feel ashamed of my loud moan that I accidentally let escape. I’m too overexcited; this is too much. I’m on the edge already, and we’ve barely even started.

  As he pushes my underwear to the side and his fingers touch me for the first time, I pant and tug on his belt, fumbling but eventually getting it unbuckled, and then I push my hand down the front of his trousers. He groans against my neck as my hand closes around his length, stroking; my arousal is spiked higher at the feel of him in my hand. Steel under silk.

  My body is on high alert, screaming for release as he pushes two fingers inside me, his thumb still rubbing my clit. I gasp, biting my lip as the pleasure builds to impossible heights. I’m on a cliff’s edge, dangerously close to tipping over already.

  “Oh shit, Jared. I’m gonna come any second,” I moan.

  His hand doesn’t stop, but he pulls his head back, his eyes meeting mine. “I wanted to be inside you when I made you come for the first time.”

  His voice is almost a plea, and my hand tightens on his length, squeezing.

  “Then, you either need to stop doing that,” I pant, reaching between our bodies and pressing my hand over his, stilling him, “or get inside me real quick.”

  There’s a moment of indecision on his face, but then his hand is withdrawn, and I let out a strangled whimper as he pushes himself up to his knees. He rummages in his pocket, pulling out his wallet and finding a foil packet.

  While I catch my breath, I push up onto my elbows, watching the visible panel of muscles on his stomach move and contract. It’s mesmerising, and my hand unconsciously reaches out, pushing his shirt off his shoulders a little more, tracing the lines on his stomach, my fingers dipping into his navel as I let out a content sigh. As I appreciate his body, his eyes linger on mine. I don’t even feel self-conscious that I’m exposed to him like this; the look on his face is enough to give me confidence.

  As he pushes his trousers and boxers down over his hips, releasing his erection, my breath catches, and desire pools between my legs.

  Wow.

  I watch, transfixed, while he rolls the condom down over his length, his fist gently stroking himself, the cufflinks on his sleeves glinting in the flickering light of the movie that plays unseen in the background. Jared’s eyes are dark and hooded and firmly latched on me.

  I smile eagerly and sink my teeth into my bottom lip as he leans over me again, one of his hands gripping my thigh, guiding my leg over his hip. I hold my breath, waiting for the delicious feel of him entering me, but instead, he just kisses me again, his mouth worshipping mine, whipping me into a frenzy before I feel him pull his hips back and line himself up at my entrance.

  His eyes meet mine in silent question, but I don’t answer; I can’t. Words are long gone; all that’s left is a carnal mass of desire and need. So, instead, I dig my nails into his back and raise my hips off the sofa, taking him inside me just a little. It’s clearly enough to make him lose his mind, too, and his mouth crashes back against mine as he thrusts in one long movement. I moan against his lips as he fills me, burying himself to the hilt. It’s intense and incredible and more than I ever dared to hope it would be.

  “Oh shit,” he groans, looking at me through heavily lidded eyes.

  He kisses me once, twice, and then it begins. The most beautiful, erotic, and incredible sex I’ve ever had. It’s sexy and sensual. Our clothes rustling with each movement are evidence that our desire couldn’t wait another second. Our breaths tangle as the pleasure builds with each powerful stroke of his hips, and his lips, tongue, and teeth lavish attention on me.

  The passion I feel for him is overwhelming. Flurries of sensations hit me over and over until my mind is a whirling mess of euphoria and rapture. When he reaches a hand between our bodies and circles it on the sensitive bundle of nerves, my orgasm hits me full force, an intense wave of pleasure and ecstasy. My body shatters, fracturing off into a million pieces. My hips buck up against his, and my teeth clamp down onto his shoulder as I moan his name. My internal muscles ripple around his cock, and that seems to send him over the edge, too, because he thrusts just a couple more times before he lets out a low groan and presses his face into the side of my neck. His whole body goes rigid before he sinks down on top of me.

  We lie there like that for a couple of minutes, wrapped in each other as we catch our breaths. I can’t temper my exhilaration. I’m still floating on a cloud of bliss.

  Finally, he pulls back a little and smiles down at me. “That was my first legit Netflix and chill experience,” he jokes, his fingers gently stroking the hair at my temple.

  I laugh. “Mine too.”

  His sweaty body is slick against mine, and my hand unconsciously curls around his belt, holding him against me as he goes to pull away.

  “No, don’t get off yet,” I whine, greedy for more of his touch. I don’t want this connection to end yet—or ever. I want to live on this sofa with him, Netflix-and-chilling our life away.

  He leans down and kisses me one more time before pushing himself up to his knees, my death grip on him having little to no effect. My body instantly misses the luxurious weight of him on top of me, and I frown and let out a sound like an angry cat.

  “I have to go flush this,” he explains, chuckling as he reaches down and tugs off the condom in one easy motion.

  As he stands, he shoots me a smug smile that tells me he knows exactly how much I enjoyed myself. I sit up, now a little self-conscious of how exposed I am and push my skirt down my jelly-like thighs. When I reach for my discarded jumper, he bends and picks it up, passing it to me with a wink that sets my tummy fluttering all over again.

  “Thanks. The bathroom is that one.” I point to the door and right myself on the sofa, tugging my jumper over my head.

  After a couple of minutes, he flushes the chain and comes out of the bathroom. He’s fastened a couple of his shirt buttons, but it still hangs open enough to tease me with his tanned, toned skin and the V that leads down into his trousers, like an arrow pointing down to the good stuff. His eyes meet mine, and his head cocks to the side as he leans against the wall, watching me.

  “So, I’ve got a breakfast meeting at six thirty tomorrow. I should probably get to bed,” he says, reaching up and brushing a hand through his already-messy hair.

  My mouth falls open, and my stomach drops as I realise what he means. He’s leaving. He used me for sex. And now, he’s leaving, and I’ll likely never see him again.

  The disappointment and sadness feel like a punch to the boob.

  I school my features and force a smile when I see his eyes narrow and his eyebrows pull together in a little frown.

  I stand and dismissively wave my hand, as if my heart isn’t breaking inside. “Right. Yeah, of course.” I can feel my eyes prickle with devastated tears, so I look away from him and grab the TV remote, turning off the end of the movie. “I’ll just put these in the kitchen, and then I’ll show you out.” I pick up the used plates and empty pizza box and walk to the kitchen as quickly as I can, my eyes firmly on the carpet.

  I hear him step up behind me as I push the empty box onto the counter and put the plates in the sink. I take a deep breath, trying to contain my emotions. I can’t show him I’m hurting over this. I’ve been through this before—used and then discarded—but never by someone I cared about like this.

  Embarrassed heat burns my cheeks and neck. Why did I do that? Dammit, why didn’t I listen to Heather’s fishing metaphors?

  “Look, I never do that. I’m not a sex-on-the-second-date kind of girl.” I scowl down at the counter, turning angry now, not at him—he’s a guy, and that’s what guys do—but at myself.

  “I get that v
ibe from you, yeah.”

  I gulp and nod, but words don’t come, so I push away from the counter and am about to walk past him when his arm stretches out, blocking the exit, forcing me to stop.

  “Amy, I think you’re misunderstanding what I said. When I said I should go to bed, I was hoping you’d ask me to stay the night. I didn’t mean I wanted to leave.”

  My mouth pops open in shock, and I finally look up at his face to see his gorgeous brown eyes latched on to mine. He steps closer to me, his arm still trapping me against the counter.

  “You … you want to stay the night?” My words trip over each other on the way out.

  He steps even closer, his scent filling my nose as his eyes smoulder sexily down at me, one corner of his mouth twitching with a smile. “Yes, I want to stay the night. Because that, what just happened”—he nods over his shoulder towards the sofa—“wasn’t even nearly all the things I want to do to you tonight.” His voice is so husky and seductive that it sends a shiver down my spine. His body presses against mine as he reaches up and twirls a lock of my hair around one finger. “I want you naked. I want to feel you come on my tongue while your thighs shake around my head. I want to watch you lose control.”

  “Holy hell, Jared,” I whisper. “Dirty talk? I like it.” I’m panting now, my nipples pebbling against the lace of my bra.

  He leans forward, his nose brushing down the side of mine before he plants a little kiss on the edge of my jaw. “Can I stay?” he whispers.

  “Please. God, yes. Stay.”

  He chuckles, his hot breath tickling down my neck. My stomach clenches as my hands fist his shirt, pulling him closer to me. His mouth finds mine, and my insides explode with delight as I grin against his lips.

  I step back, taking his hand and guiding him through my flat, turning off lights on the way. He checks the front door is locked as we pass it, and I smile at the thoughtfulness of him.

  When we get to my bedroom, he stops in the doorway, watching as I head to the bed and fumble for the switch on the lamp, flicking it on to bathe us in a gentle yellow hue.