The Perfect Fit (Riley O'Brien & Co. #2.5) (13 page)

“Have you been with anyone since you lost your leg?”

He shook his head, and a small, pleased smile curved her mouth. Dropping her hands from the headboard, she scooted down his body until his hard-on was snug against her ass and her knees hugged his hips. With just a little nudge, he would be pressed up against her asshole.

Jesus.

He’d never been one of those guys who got turned on by backdoor sex, but the thought of taking Margo’s ass made his balls draw up tight. Maybe he was one of those guys after all.

She rose up on her knees, positioning herself over his erection. “Zeke.”

Reluctantly, he dragged his gaze from where their bodies touched. “What?”

“Do you want me?”

“Yes,” he answered hoarsely.

She wiggled a little. The tip of his hard-on nudged her slick opening, and her juice trickled over him. She lowered herself in a slow, torturous slide, her internal muscles tightly clasping his dick. Widening her legs, she took him deeper … deeper … ah, deeper.

Jesus.

With his balls flush against her, she braced her hand in the middle of his chest and began to ride him slowly. He wanted to be patient, to let her set the pace. But she was tight and hot, and he couldn’t stop himself from clenching his hands on her hips and taking over.

He worked her over his dick, lifting her up and thrusting deep when he brought her down. He knew he was taking her too hard and too fast, and he told himself to slow down, to be gentle with her. But his control was unraveling, like a spool of thread.

It wasn’t because he hadn’t had sex in nearly three years. It wasn’t because this was a new position for him.

It was because of Margo.
She
made him lose control.

He lifted her again, and when he drove deep this time, his control snapped. With a roar, he came, harder than he ever had. As he flooded her with his seed, he heard her cry out. Her pussy clenched around his dick, the powerful spasms wringing him dry.

She fell forward, tucking her face into the side of his neck. She was shaking, and he ran his hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her.

His vision was blurry, and when he blinked, he realized tears were leaking from his eyes. He had no idea why he was crying; he’d never cried after sex before.

But this wasn’t just sex. It was a hell of a lot more.

“I’m sorry.” His voice sounded like he’d swallowed gravel. “I know I was too rough. Did I hurt you?”

Turning her head, she kissed his jaw. “No.”

She lifted her hips, and he pulled out as carefully as he could. She climbed off him and rolled onto her back.

He glanced down at his dick, which was still semi-erect. It glistened with their combined fluids, visible proof of how irresponsible they’d been.

“We didn’t use a condom.”

“I know,” she replied. “But we’re both clean, and I’m on birth control pills, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Her calm response told him that she’d known there was no risk. He was the one who had been careless.

Suddenly, she jumped off the bed and pointed to the clock that sat on his nightstand. “Is that right?”

“Of course.”

He wouldn’t have a clock in his room set to the wrong time. That would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?

Her eyes widened in obvious dismay. Then she darted for the door and flung it open.

“Stop right there,” he barked, sitting up in bed.

She froze, standing in his open doorway, stark naked. “What?”

“We have to talk about this.”

“Not now, Zeke. I’m late for work.”

And then she disappeared in a flash of smooth, white skin and tousled, reddish-gold hair. He flopped back on the mattress, wondering if he’d just been a hit-it-and-run victim.

When it came to wine, Margo had low standards. She drank it to relax, not as a sign of her socio-economic status.

As she took a sip of the pinot noir she’d bought at Trader Joe’s, she prayed the vintage would loosen the tension that knotted her entire body. She wasn’t looking forward to talking with Zeke about what had happened in his bed this morning.

She had used work as an excuse to hightail it out of his room. She could have missed the meeting and talked with him. But she hadn’t been ready to hear him say that they’d made a mistake.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, she took another sip of wine. It tasted pretty good, but then again, she couldn’t tell the difference between a five-dollar bottle and a fifty-dollar bottle.

For once, she had beaten Zeke home from work. Her days were usually crazy, full of sick animals and worried owners. But today had been surprisingly low-key and peaceful, and she’d been able to leave an hour earlier than usual.

Zeke had sent her a text, warning her that he would be late because he was dealing with a supply chain emergency. That was the only communication they’d had all day … except for the nonverbal communication in his bed.

Closing her eyes, she massaged her forehead with her fingertips. She didn’t have a lot of sexual experience—she’d only been with three guys, including Zeke—but this morning had rocked her world off its axis.

He had sent her spinning with two luscious orgasms. It made sense that he was good in bed; he was a classic overachiever.

Her feelings for him had intensified her physical response … that, and the knowledge that she was the only one he’d been with since he had lost his leg. She hoped that meant something—that this morning had been more than just sex for him.

She absently lifted the wineglass to her mouth. To her surprise, it was empty. She debated whether to have a second glass.

Oh, what the hell. Why not?

As she poured another serving of pinot noir, she asked herself what she wanted from Zeke … assuming he didn’t come home from work and insist that they forget this morning ever happened.

She knew what she didn’t want: a roommate-with-benefits arrangement. But what if that was all he was willing to offer her? She could never be satisfied with that, not when she wanted an exclusive relationship that would eventually lead to marriage and children.

A buzzing sound echoed in the apartment. After placing her wineglass on the counter, she headed toward the intercom near the front door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but sometimes delivery people left packages with other residents when they couldn’t reach the recipient.

Pressing the intercom button, she said, “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” a woman’s voice answered. “I’m here to see Zeke May.”

Huh?

The woman spoke again. “Are you Zeke’s roommate? I’m Andrea May.”

For a moment, Margo was frozen in disbelief. Zeke’s ex-wife was in San Francisco?

“Can you let me in?” Andrea requested.

Like an automaton, Margo pressed the button to allow Andrea inside. Then she leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths. This was the last thing she had expected to deal with tonight.

Just then, a knock sounded on the apartment door. She took one more deep breath and exhaled before opening the door.

“Hello,” Andrea said, extending her hand. “You must be Margo. I’m Andrea May.”

Margo took the other woman’s hand, noting the perfect French manicure on her nails. “Yes, I’m Margo.”

The photos of Andrea didn’t do her justice. Zeke’s ex-wife was even more beautiful in person.

Margo would have killed to have the other woman’s long, feathery eyelashes. They had to be fake, right? And her long, wavy hair had to be extensions. No one’s hair could be that thick without the help of a salon.

Andrea knew how to dress to accentuate her tall, willowy figure. She wore a pair of cream-colored trousers that made her legs look a mile long, a silky black shirt with a draped neckline, and red patent leather stilettos.

Next to Andrea, Margo felt like a troll. She was at least six inches shorter than the other woman.

Margo had planned to shower and change before Zeke got home. She was still wearing her maroon scrubs from work, her makeup had worn off, and her hair was twisted into a messy bun on top of her head.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Andrea said before releasing Margo’s hand.

The taller woman moved forward, as if she had every right to be there, forcing Margo to scoot to the side of the entryway. And that was when she noticed the black suitcase Andrea pulled behind her.

Slowly, Margo closed the door and followed Andrea into the living room. Zeke had neglected to mention that his ex-wife was coming for a visit.

Where had he planned for her to sleep? Somehow she doubted Andrea would be bedding down on the sofa.

“This is a nice apartment,” Andrea noted. “It’s bigger than I thought it would be.” She glanced down, her scarlet lips pursed in visible distaste. “I always hated this rug.”

Pushing down the telescoping handle of her suitcase, Andrea asked, “Where’s Zeke? He’s usually home by now, isn’t he?”

“He had to work late. He didn’t mention that you were coming.”

Andrea sat down on the sofa and crossed her long legs. “We’ve talked for months about me visiting, and I decided to surprise him.”

“Oh,” Margo replied lamely, wondering if Andrea’s presence would be a good surprise or a bad surprise.

“I thought it would be a good idea to come out since I’ll probably end up relocating here. Zeke loves his job at Riley O’Brien & Co., and I don’t think he’ll be willing to move back to Maryland.”

What?

“It’s probably better that we start over in a new city, anyway,” Andrea continued.

Margo stared at Andrea, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Start over? Are you and Zeke getting back together?”

Andrea nodded. “We made a mistake when we got divorced.
I
made a mistake. Zeke didn’t want the divorce. I did.” She smiled wryly. “What’s that saying… ‘You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone’… That was me. I didn’t realize how lucky I was to have Zeke.”

Margo couldn’t help but think that Andrea was a
very
stupid woman. If he were Margo’s husband, she would never let him go.

Andrea eyed Margo thoughtfully. “You probably aren’t old enough to have the kind of regrets that I do.”

You’re wrong about that. I have a lot of regrets … like letting you into the building.

Andrea smiled wistfully. “Zeke and I always planned to have kids. It’s not too late for us. We still have time.”

The thought of Andrea having Zeke’s babies made Margo physically ill. She wanted to be the mother of his children.

Andrea had already had her chance with Zeke, and she’d blown it. It was Margo’s turn now.

For a brief moment, Margo thought about telling Andrea exactly where she had been this morning and what she’d been doing. But she swallowed the words.

She loved Zeke with her whole heart. He had suffered too much, and she wanted him to be happy, even if that meant he was happy with someone else.

“Did Zeke say when he’d be home?” Andrea asked.

“No, but I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” Margo snapped her fingers to get Roby’s attention. “I’m going to take my dog for a walk so you and Zeke can talk privately.”

Andrea smiled. “I’m hoping we’ll do more than talk.”

She looked away from Andrea’s smug face. She couldn’t bear the thought of Zeke and his ex-wife together … couldn’t bear the thought of him kissing and touching Andrea less than twelve hours after he’d been buried inside Margo.

Desperate to escape, Margo hurriedly clipped the leash to Roby’s collar and pulled on a lightweight sweater. “Please tell Zeke that I’ll be back in a couple of hours … around eight o’clock.”

She grabbed her keys from the metal hook next to the door and rushed out of the apartment. It wasn’t until she was halfway down the block that she realized she’d left her phone and wallet at home.

She had no money for dinner or even a cup of coffee. But that was okay because she wasn’t hungry. The conversation with Andrea had obliterated her appetite.

Margo wandered through Pacific Heights with no destination in mind. Summer in the Bay Area wasn’t like summer in other places. It wasn’t warm and sunny; it was chilly and cloudy. This evening was no different, and it fit her mood perfectly.

Zeke had screwed Margo even though he was working things out with his ex-wife.
What a jerk!

As she walked, she silently berated herself for falling in love with him. Not only was he a jerk, he was emotionally unavailable.

Any man who talked to his ex-wife every day clearly hadn’t moved on. Any man who wanted his ex-wife to visit wasn’t ready for a relationship with someone else.

And any woman who ignored those red flags deserved to be miserable.

With no way to keep track of time, Margo relied on the sun to let her know when it was time to head home. When the sky darkened to twilight, she reluctantly led Roby back to the Victorian.

There was no way she was going to stay here with Zeke and his ex-wife, not even for one night. As soon as she found her phone, Margo planned to call Jenny and ask if she could stay with her. And if she couldn’t reach her friend, she’d book a cheap hotel room and stay there until Andrea left.

As Margo stood on the sidewalk in front of the house, she recalled the day she’d met Zeke. She never could have predicted that she would fall in love with her roommate, who also happened to be a big jerk.

After letting herself into the apartment, she released Roby from his leash and hung up her sweater. The Doberman immediately dashed off, probably heading for his food bowl.

She stood in the small foyer for a moment, listening for voices. When she heard nothing, she exhaled a relieved breath. Zeke and Andrea had either retreated to his bedroom or gone out, and she was glad she wouldn’t have to see them together.

The living area was empty and dark, but the dining room wasn’t. Zeke was there, sitting on a barstool. He wore a plain black T-shirt that revealed his muscular biceps and sinewy forearms and a pair of faded jeans. A bottle of beer was on the table in front of him.

She moved deeper into the room, and he shifted on the barstool, turning his body toward her. His expression was impassive, and she couldn’t read his mood.

Reaching the table, she curled her hands over the back of the barstool adjacent to where Zeke sat. She needed something to hold on to because her knees were shaking with a combination of anger and anxiety.