My hand found her breast, and I traced the curve and squeezed. The other hand rested on her hip, riding along as her body rolled in waves. Her fingers clenched against my chest, and her brows came together, the softness in her face shifting as she came closer. I knew her body so well that I could almost count down the seconds. A shallow breath she took — three — a small moan passed her lips — two — her nails dug into my skin — one. She came with a cry, grinding against me, pulsing around me.
After a moment, she slowed, lifting a hand to move her hair from her face, smiling at me lazily as she leaned back. She reached behind her, resting her hands on my thighs as she rolled her body, lifting her hips every time she rocked back. I watched our bodies meet and separate, my hands on her hips as I flexed into her, pulling her down faster with each motion until I couldn’t hold on. Her name was on my lips, my heart stopping for a long moment when I came, my body thrumming inside of her.
When I finally opened my eyes, she was smiling at me, lip between her teeth as she shifted to lie on top of me. Her lips found mine, soft and sweet, and my fingers tangled in her hair, not wanting to separate.
But she broke away, smiling down at me as her hand found my jaw. “Do you bring all the girls in here to impress them with your collection?”
“No one else has been in here besides you and my maid,” I answered quietly.
She watched me for a moment. “Why me?”
I smiled and touched her cheek. “Because we were playing a game, and I trust you.”
Some emotion passed across her face in a flash, too fast for me to catch it before she kissed me again. But the kiss was different, laced with longing, burning hot.
When she backed away, she seemed fine, just smiled at me once more and said, “I’m still hungry.”
And I let it go, because that was what she wanted. “Well, put that apron back on and let’s get you fed.”
She climbed off of me and grabbed the apron from the ground. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
She headed to my room, and I cleaned up in the hall bathroom with every thought on her. And then, I made my way back to the kitchen to finish dinner, feeling lost and found, together and broken, all at the same time.
I had the bread and bacon on the flat top and was busy slicing tomatoes, grateful for the mundane distraction, feeling a little more together by the time that Maggie returned looking fresh as a magnolia blossom. She snickered, her eyes on my ass.
“I kinda forgot you were wearing that.”
I smiled as I set the bread on plates and smeared garlic aioli mayo on them, then laid the chicken breasts on the top.
She took a seat and sipped her wine. “Oooh, fancy sandwiches.”
I topped them with tomatoes, spring mix, and bacon. “I can’t help it. I’m just a fancy guy.” I made my way over to the bar and set her plate in front of her. “Bon appétite, Madame.”
“Merci beaucoup, monsieur.”
I took a seat next to her, my ass sticking to the leather.
She picked up her sandwich and adjusted her grip. “So what are you up to tonight?” She took a bite.
“Actually, West and Patrick are coming over in about an hour.”
Her eyes widened, and she froze mid-chew.
“You have an hour. Don’t worry.”
She made a face and started chewing again.
“I’ll call Bobby to take you home.
“I don’t need—”
I shook my head and picked up my own sandwich. “I’m not letting you walk through the park in the dark.”
“I can take a cab.”
“Maggie. Just let me call Bobby.”
She sighed. “Fine. What are you guys doing tonight?”
“Playing video games. You?” I took a bite.
“Well, I don’t have work tomorrow, so I’m not sure.”
I wiped my lips with my napkin and laid it back in my lap. “What’s left on your sightseeing list?”
“Chelsea Piers, Brooklyn Bridge, Coney Island, off the top of my head.”
I smiled and shifted the sandwich. “Let’s go to Coney Island tomorrow.” I took another bite.
She raised an eyebrow. “Who invited you?”
I shrugged and swallowed. “You shouldn’t go by yourself. Plus, when it gets dark, that place looks like where survivors of the zombie apocalypse go for group meetings.”
She laughed.
“Seriously. I once saw a guy beating a bench with a cane, laughing like a maniac.”
Her smile fell. “Maybe I don’t want to go after all.”
“It’s fine during the day, and with muscle.”
Maggie eyed me. “You’re telling me that you and I going to Coney Island wouldn’t be a date? How do you figure?”
“I won’t buy you a single thing, not even a hot dog or a soda. I won’t even try to win you a giant pink gorilla. I could, just to be clear. But I won’t. I’ll be good. But the second we’re back here tomorrow night, I make no promises.”
She laughed. “Sounds fun, but it’s a bad idea.” She seemed stalwart, but I pressed her anyway. I wanted to spend the day with her. I wanted to know if it would be everything I thought it would be.
“Give me one good reason why we can’t go to Coney Island.”
“Because …” Her face scrunched up. “Well, I don’t know. It just feels like a date.”
“I already covered that one. What else?” I took another bite, playing it off, watching her.
She was still trying to think of something, and I knew I had her. I went in for the kill.
I swallowed and set down my sandwich. “You want to go to Coney Island. We’re both free tomorrow. There will be no making of moves, buying of cotton candy, or any otherwise sinister, predatory shenanigans. Come on, Mags.”
Boom.
She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “All right. It’s not a date, though.”
A smile stretched across my lips. “Of course it’s not.”
SORE LOSER
Maggie
HALF AN HOUR LATER, I skipped out of Cooper’s apartment feeling high. Constant surprises, that’s what being with him boiled down to. Just when I thought I had him pegged, he’d hit me with something that would send the dial spinning again. But as Bobby drove me home, I came down, and the second guessing began. I’d agreed to another not-date, this time at an amusement park.
I had almost zero willpower when it came to Cooper.
Coney Island on a spring afternoon with Cooper Moore. I sighed, feeling like an indecisive fool, needing to talk to somebody, but Lily was at the theater. I couldn’t call Brooke — it was too late on a Thursday when I know she had to wake up early. That only left Rose. I’d just have to play it off, be as vague as possible. No details, no names. Relief settled in at the thought of talking through it. She’d help me decide.
Bobby dropped me off around the corner from Habits, and I thanked him before climbing out, feeling like I should have tipped him or something, even though I knew he’d never take it. A driver. So freaking weird.
The night was cool and a little breezy as I walked the stretch to Habits and pulled open the door. Rose’s face swung toward the door, and she smiled when she saw me. Her black hair was in a high ponytail, her long neck exposed, cleavage bangin’ without looking overdone or showy.