Tinsley
I’M GOING ALL
in. Tonight, Maguire is taking me out to the lake. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous as hell, which is why Shannon is currently helping to calm me down. Last week, I sat down with Detective Sanchez. He mentioned how they had a promising lead and he would let me know as soon as they confirmed anything. Being able to relax about that has allowed me to breathe and let loose a bit.
To add to the nervousness, this morning, I got a delivery of cookies and flowers. In the note, Maguire wrote not to stress and that he couldn’t wait to see me tonight. A sweet gesture, which only made me ten times more anxious.
This is why Shannon is here—to keep me sane.
“Have you waxed?” she asks as she pops a cracker with cheese in her mouth, crunching loudly.
My hands go up to my eyebrows, and I think they’re in decent shape. When I hear her laughing, I look and she’s looking straight at my crotch.
“That’s not necessary for a first date, whore,” I tell her, not even believing the words that come out of my mouth. I haven’t dated since college, and back then, I had plenty of hookups but very few real dates. With Liam, we went gradually from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend. I knew well in advance that we were getting to that point in our relationship and made sure I groomed for him. “Do I need to?”
“If you’re asking, then yes, yes, you do,” she says smiling wide.
“But we won’t—” I start to say, but she cuts me off.
“Go in there and don’t come back out until you have a hardwood floor and not a shag carpet.” Shannon points at the bathroom, and I stomp through the hallway, feeling like I’ve been sentenced to clean my room. Except it’s my vagina.
After thoroughly making myself presentable and three cuts later, I’m out the door and in the car with Maguire. He has a sleek, black Mercedes that owns the road. Looking over, his dress shirt fits snugly over his muscles on his arms as he drives us out of the city and to the back roads. His cologne lightly fills the air, and it’s such a heavenly, manly scent that I’m silently thanking Shannon for being so harsh on me.
“You’re quiet. How’s your day been?” he asks as he turns down another road. I have no idea where we are, but he seems so self-assured that I don’t question it. I look over and contemplate how honest I want to be with him. “We’re only five minutes away or so.”
I question myself over how relaxed we are together, like we’ve been friends forever. I want to spill everything to him, to give myself over to him like an open book and let him read and devour me.
“It’s been stressful. I signed the papers to give Seasons 23 to a friend today, and I feel like I just gave one of my babies away.”
“Seasons 23?” he asks curiously. I thought I had told him about my bars, but I guess maybe not the names of them.
“Oh, sorry. One of the bars I own. I don’t have the time or strength to keep it, so I let it go before business started to hurt. After that, Shannon and I went out for a drink, and now, I’m here with you. So all in all, it’s slowly becoming a better day. It’s a milestone, really.” I smile, thinking about how now I won’t have to feel guilt over never going to Seasons. It wasn’t fair to anyone for me to keep it. Noah got an insanely lucrative offer to buy it from me, so it was a win-win.
“Maybe we can continue the celebration into tonight, then.” He smiles at me as he places his hand on my thigh, and I want to melt. His hand squeezing lightly but not trailing up at all makes me ache for him to touch me in other places.
“Have you been out here before?” Looking around, I can see the lake up on the right. The clouds are sparse tonight, so we can hopefully get a good view of the stars. Smiling, I push down any feeling of guilt and let myself enjoy the night and the man sitting next to me.
“I haven’t, but I’ve heard about the beautiful views. Want to go out for a walk?” he asks after putting the car in park and unbuckling his seat belt. It’s quiet out and no one is around. Looking up, I nod but pull his shirt, causing him to lean in. He’s within inches of me, and he’s assaulting every one of my senses right now. A sweep of daring attraction grabs me, and I feel like I can take control of what I want. “Will you kiss me?” I breathe out as I feel his breath mix with mine. Maguire stares into my eyes for a moment before letting out a deep guttural groan. He kisses me slowly at first, getting a feel for me but gradually increases and gives me everything he has.
It’s one of those kisses that makes everything else float away and nothing else matters at this moment but him and me.
Hands are in my hair, pulling me closer as his tongue sweeps between my lips, taking what he wants. My body goes slack against the seat, and he leans further in, his hand sliding between my thighs, rubbing over my warmth.
“Fuck, Tinsley,” he growls before moving to kiss down my neck, nipping and sucking his way down my chest. My nipples harden at the thought of being sucked. “You have no idea what you’re doing, allowing me this. I’m going to be greedy if you don’t stop me. If you tell me to stop, I will, okay?” he rushes out, his breathing deep and erratic.
All I can do is nod, hoping he never stops touching me. I thought we’d have a nice evening lying out by the lake, but damn if this isn’t better. He’s rough yet tender with me, and I can sense him holding back. “I’ll tell you to stop if I need to.” I pull the lever on the side of the seat and recline us back, allowing him to cover me with his weight. He’s all muscle as he holds himself up, being careful not to put too much pressure on me.
“I want to cherish you and take my time. It’s what you deserve, but after having a taste, I’m addicted. You’re my drug, Tinsley,” he offers as he pulls up my shirt and trails his tongue from right above my jeans, ever so slowly up to my breasts. I lean back, aching for this man. A man who isn’t Liam. But at this very moment, I’m living for myself, and Maguire’s what I want.
Thankful he picked a secluded area of the lake, I lift my right leg, careful not to knee him as I do so, and prop my foot up on the dashboard, giving him better access. His erection presses against my core deliciously, and I can’t help but grind against him, eliciting sparks I haven’t felt in months.
This is so wrong. So terribly wrong
, I think to myself. I hate myself for enjoying his touch. Wondering how much better it’ll be without the restrictions of clothes or a confined space, I picture him thrusting into me, making sure I’m taken care of before ever giving himself the satisfaction. With that thought, though, I know if I don’t pull us out of this orgasmic haze, we’ll be crossing into new territory, and it terrifies me.
“Maguire,” I murmur as he quickly undoes my pants, slides his hand beneath my soaked panties, and uses two fingers to stroke my clit. I whimper as I feel myself climbing higher, so close to relief. He nods but continues the sweet assault, and I’m at a loss of why I needed him to stop. Within a minute of saying his name to stop, I’m moaning as he pushes me over the edge, riding his hand as the orgasm slowly dissipates.
Both of us are breathing heavy, his sweaty face lying on my shoulder, and I feel like the biggest bitch and tease of all. I let myself come and am about to tell him to tuck it in and suffer from a horrible case of blue balls.
I’m going back and forth, trying to decide what’s right at this very moment, but in another type of relief, Maguire knows for both of us. Silently, he presses a kiss to my lingering lips and climbs back into the driver’s seat, leaving me flushed, relaxed, and lying down while he’s propped up.
Awkward doesn’t begin to describe the dynamic right now.
I want to thank him but know it’s the not what he’s looking for. I’m at a loss for words and can’t stop staring at his beautifully chiseled profile, his chest still rising in deep, controlled breaths. I see his eyes close for a moment before opening and turning my way.
“You’re going to ruin me,” he says, and I want to defend myself until he continues. “Something about you drives me crazy in the best possible way. I know I’m supposed to be nonchalant about new women, but fuck if I’m not invested. I meant it when I said you should be cherished. A random car fuck isn’t what I want to give you, nor what I planned by bringing you out here.”
This man knows how to play with my heartstrings. For once, I’m not worrying about how I’ll be judged or if it’s too soon. I know, deep down, that this might be good for me. The fluttering in my stomach I get when I hear him say my name, the smile that covers my face at the mere thought of him—he’s what I want.
“I feel like in a normal situation, I’d ask for you to take me back to your place. In my heart, though, I can’t do that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fuck another man in that home,” I tell him because it’s the truth. I’m trying to be strong here but being in Liam’s home with Maguire, intimately, feels like the worst kind of betrayal.
“Okay—”
“Let me finish. Can you please take me to my place? It’s not the best because I was hoping to find a house within the next few months and only needed something temporary. My bed is orgasmic,” I finish.
Looking at me curiously with a hint of a smile, he asks, “Is this your way of telling me you’d like to finish what we have started back at your place?” His smile widens.
“Mhmm.” I nod sheepishly.
“Were you worried I’d decline your offer?” His eyebrow goes up in question.
Thinking about it, I shake my head. I mainly needed to tell him I wasn’t going back to his home.
“Good. We’ll come back to the lake another night. I’m not sure if this is a proper date, now that we’ve turned it into something … more, but since you’ve mentioned this orgasmic bed of yours, I can’t complain.” He chuckles and puts the car in reverse, taking us back to the city.
The unspoken electricity between us during the drive back is enough to make me wet. I can’t help myself and take a good look at the bulge in his pants. Every few minutes, he shifts in his seat and it takes everything in me not to unbutton his pants right there and stroke him from base to tip, licking and sucking until he explodes for me.
In reality, I sit quietly, biting my lip as he drives a little more aggressively than before, a sense of urgency radiating from him.
The drive back is quiet, but it couldn’t have been louder. The tension continues to rise as we sit next to each other. We’re close enough to touch, but it’s almost as if it’s forbidden and we’re waiting until we’re in the safety of my bedroom to allow ourselves any more pleasure.
Delayed gratification can suck it.
I’m lost in thought, watching the streets pass me by, when I hear him clear his throat. Looking over, I see he’s pulled over in the darkened area of the street.
“Why are we stopped here?” I ask, looking around to figure out my surroundings. It looks vaguely familiar, but I hadn’t been paying attention to his turns.
“You never told me where you live. We’re on the outskirts of the city right now, but I wasn’t sure where to go next.” He smiles sweetly, his hand still on the wheel while the other rests loosely on the gearshift.
“Right.” Clearing my head, I can’t believe I spaced out without telling him where to go. “Head down Jefferson Ave. until you hit Gentry. I’m the apartment building on the left.” I turn in my seat so I’m facing him better and try to be more engaging.
The only problem is I can’t stop thinking about who I’m about to jump into bed with. Sure, I feel comfortable around him and have known him for years, but deep down, I don’t know much.
Did it matter? Women did it all the time—hook up with random guys they met online or at a bar. They didn’t know jack shit about who they were intimate with. I had been one of those girls back in my younger years, but now, it feels different.
“Are you close to your parents?”
“No.”
His answer throws me a little. It’s so absolute. So final. “Not at all?”
His grip on the wheel tightens. “My mom died when I was a baby. I grew up with my grandparents. My dad came around every once in a while, but mostly, he was out of the picture.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him and debate internally whether I should confide in him about my parents. In the end, I remain quiet and feel like an ass for not confiding in him about losing my family.
“It’s okay,” he answers, and we’re both silent.
“What’s your deepest, darkest secret?” I ask Maguire to change the subject. I figure we have about seven minutes before we’re at my place. Seven minutes for me to ask questions and get to know him well enough to invite him into my home and my bed.
He glances over slightly before asking, “What? Why?” His voice wavers in just the slightest, and it’s barely noticeable.
“Trying to get to know you better. What? Is it bad? Tell me!” I turn more at an angle so my knee is touching the console, excited yet nervous to get some dirt on him.
“It’s not bad.” He pauses for a moment. “Deepest and darkest, huh? I feel like I’m walking into a trap. If I tell you, then you have to promise it won’t change the way you see me. I couldn’t handle telling you and then you looking at me all weird.”
Now, I was scared, curious, and dying to know. I threw out my pinky finger and waited for him to intertwine his finger with mine, showing him how serious I was.
“I like to watch porn,” he says simply.
“And? So does everyone else. I know I do.”
“Fisting.”
“Huh?” Now, I’m confused.
“Fisting,” he repeats himself.
“Just because you say it twice doesn’t mean I’ll understand it the second time. Elaborate, please.”
“I like to watch guys fist the woman they’re with. You know, where they stick their whole hand up their pussy.” He shrugs and looks over while I’m picturing what he just said in my head. My face has to look all screwed up at the thought because I’m in pain just thinking about it.
He chuckles under his breath and turns his head so he’s focusing on the road. Meanwhile, I’m still picturing a huge, hairy, callous man hand up my small hole. He’d rip me apart! The thought sends shivers down my spine, and now, I’m petrified that I’m too vanilla for the man next to me, and he’s expecting to do that—to me.