The Tenant

When he still didn't speak, I turned back to check the coffeemaker. Another minute later, I was reaching to press the button to brew when his right hand covered mine. I froze, unable to turn around—to pull my hand away—although that was what I thought my first instinct would be. Should be.

Several seconds passed with his chest pressed lightly against my back, his arm next to mine. All I could see was his large, masculine hand covering my delicate, feminine one on top of the machine. There was hardly any pressure from his palm on the back of my hand, yet the lingering presence warmed my skin. His breaths seemed even, out of sync with my racing heartbeat.

"I-I'm sorry about last night." My voice croaked as the words spilled out. I couldn't remember ever being so flustered. Not even the first time I'd had sex with a guy. Maybe because I knew that this wasn't an ordinary situation. We lived together. I—

Slowly, his fingers curled around mine, releasing whatever spell had prevented me from facing him. A sharp gasp was all I could express when I did meet his eyes. The brilliant green of his irises was barely visible with his pupils almost fully dilated. Above them, his eyebrows were furrowed.

"Lachlan?"

I think I said his name aloud, but he didn't answer. I watched his teeth play with his lower lip, which I never knew could be so arousing. I raised my gaze again, but his eyes were now downcast. Staring at what? My mouth? My slightly-heaving breasts because my breathing had grown more rapid?

I felt his other palm on my cheek just before his lips touched mine. My hand twisted in his and gripped his fingers, my cry unable to leave my throat before it morphed into a moan while he drew out the kiss. My eyelids fluttered closed when his hand slid around behind my neck and pulled me up against him.

Somewhere in the depths of my brain, I registered that the counter was digging into my lower back. That he'd released my right hand. Both of his hands were cupping my face and his lips were sweeping back and forth in gentle strokes against mine. When my jaw dropped slightly with a sigh, Lachlan captured my lower lip between his teeth before his tongue brushed soothingly along it.

He was starting to pull away when my brain finally caught up with my body. I grasped his forearms, our eyes finally meeting again. He blinked, and then I blinked. We shared a shaky exhale between us. I licked my lips and tilted my chin up in invitation, leaning into his unyielding chest.

Lachlan's arms snaked around me this time, holding me to him as his mouth descended. No longer were his kisses playful. They were desperate. Hungry.

I matched his fervor and sunk into his embrace. Suddenly, he hoisted me up. I yelped when I landed on the countertop. He stepped between my knees, nuzzling my neck, and I threaded my fingers into his hair. His hands stroked my back through my T-shirt then eased around to take a handful of my breasts in each palm. I whimpered. Sparks ignited deep in my belly while his thumbs brushed across my nipples through the thin layers of my shirt and bra.

My knees spread wider, and he stepped closer. I wrapped my arms around his neck, shivering at the sensation of his tongue stroking along the tender spot just behind my ear. He yanked my shirt up and over my head, a surge of excitement washing over me. Every nerve ending vibrating.

I flung my head back, ignoring the slight pain when it banged against a cabinet door. I was too concerned with his hands caressing and massaging my breasts through the satiny material that encased them. His mouth that was devouring my collar bone and the shallow indentation above my sternum.

His muffled groans grew louder, his lips descending to the swells of my breasts. His hands lifted my swollen flesh like an offering.

I could only roll my head back and forth against the wood panel behind me, clawing at his shoulders. Gasping when he tugged down the material of my bra and cool air met my nipples, which tightened painfully before warm breath caressed them. Then they were covered in damp heat. His tongue teased. His teeth nipped.

He continued the torture for a long while, his hands smoothing up and down my sides while he suckled first one breast and then the other. My bra slackened for a moment before falling away. His hands covered my back, clutching my shoulders before sliding further down. I arched up into him and squealed when he gripped my ass through my jeans.

I was wondering if we just might fuck right there on the kitchen counter when Lachlan released me. He gathered me up princess-style and carried me, half-dressed, through the living room.

"I haven't had a shower." I don't know why that fact popped into my head at just at that moment.

"Don't care," he grunted, twisting his body so we could both fit down the hallway.

"We didn't have to leave—"

"You're going to be comfortable, Jemma."

I was going to note that I had been quite fine with the butcher block, but he chose that moment to toss me onto the foot of his bed. I gasped and bounced, staring up at him while he tugged his dress shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned it while sunlight from the hallway highlighted his silhouette. I admired that he always dressed smartly, no matter where he was going. But seeing him without a shirt? My tongue darted out to wet my lips. I whimpered, thinking about his lips on mine. I wanted to touch him again, especially without any barriers.

He chuckled then shed his shirt. He was unbuckling his pants when reason smacked me upside the head and took my focus off the view of his defined abs.

"Uh, Lachlan, I don't have any condoms."

"Taken care of."

I blinked at him and swallowed hard. So there had been other women. That thought was about to blossom into at least ten more but was stunted when he spoke.

"Before your mind starts heading in the wrong direction, I got a box this morning on the way home. Since living here, I haven't needed them. Until now."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

He was down to a pair of nicely-fitted black briefs. He leaned forward, smiling at me. "I was taking a chance you were giving me the green light last night after all this time of playing cat and mouse. But I prefer my partner be sober when I ravage her."

My throat was suddenly tight, and it hurt to swallow. My hips acted on their own and lifted when he unzipped my jeans. When his mouth covered my nipple again, my back arched and jaw dropped. His fingers wrapped around my waist, stroking at my lower back before slipping inside my waistband and easing my jeans down. A moment later, I was watching him remove first my panties then his briefs.

At the sight of his semi-erect cock, I gulped. I was not innocent by a long shot. But it had been a few years since I'd had sex. Worry clouded my mind that he may expect more from me due to my age. Anxiety always made it harder for me to orgasm. To hell with him, what if I couldn't perform?

The feeling of him tugging on my legs—dragging me closer to the edge of the bed—brought my thoughts back to the here and now. Then he spread my thighs and stepped between them again. Skin touching skin, I could feel the heat emanating from his body.

The moment his fingers grazed over my pussy, I cried out and clutched at my breasts. He began stroking me. My body shook, arousal and heat spreading all over. Tears pricked my eyes when he eased one and then two fingers inside of me, my breath hitching at each movement he made.

Oh. My. God. I'd forgotten how unbelievably divine it felt to be touched this way by a man!

Any doubts I'd had—about me, about him, about us together—were wiped out when he rubbed his fingertips over my G-spot in a circular motion, his thumb strumming my clit. I managed a garbled version of his name and clenched my eyes shut. Bright lights flashed behind my eyelids while my upper body seemed to levitate above the mattress.

He disappeared for several seconds. I was still coming down from that long-overdue, mind-blowing release when his hands gripped my hips and his cock pressed at my entrance. After a slight resistance, his girth slowly stretched and filled me. When he was fully inside, he gave a final nudge, and we both moaned in unison.

My mind turned to putty. The only thing I was aware of was the feeling of him moving within me. My legs were too weak to wrap around him, so I left them hanging limply off the end of the bed. My hands and arms fluttered at my sides.

Occasionally, he leaned forward and used his mouth to play with my nipples or plant wet kisses across my lips, muffling my noises. But mostly, he stood at the foot of the bed and fucked me, his hands flanking my hips, using the mattress as leverage.

Tripping on another orgasm, my eyes squeezed shut, I heard Lachlan grunt louder. His fingers gripped my hips almost painfully, his thrusts coming faster. Then he bellowed my name and went still, though I could hear his heavy breathing. My whole body shuddered when he pulled out. The next thing I knew, I was being gathered in his arms and moved to the center of the bed.

"That was amazing," he whispered in my ear, his warm body pressed against my back.

"Agreed." I licked my lips and swallowed several times. "Thank you."

"Mmm. You're very welcome." Lachlan kissed my neck.

In my head, I was laughing. Oh, Mom...how right you were. The quiet ones.

###

At winter break, Lachlan went home to visit his family. We'd had sex several times since that first morning in late November, but we always parted afterwards to our respective beds or to go back to our individual schedules. I did learn that the kitchen counter was not very comfortable—unless I was leaning forward against it. And he had a penchant for caressing my ass. A lot.

We never talked about what we were doing. It was more of an unspoken friends-with-benefits kind of thing. I tried not to think of any other girls he could sleep with while in his hometown. I may have been the only one he'd shagged here, but I knew I definitely wasn't his first. The first night alone in the house, I fell asleep wondering what it would have been like if I had been...and how I compared to that lucky girl?

At Christmas, I flew to my eldest brother's house and spent the day deflecting everyone's inquiries on my single, male roommate because Trish couldn't keep her mouth shut after one of my sisters-in-law asked about this year's boarders. All I could think about as I lay on the cot that night in my niece's bedroom was how much I wanted to be snuggled under the covers with Lachlan's warm body. To feel his fingers painting my skin while I drifted off.

I finally fell asleep thinking about our last time together a week ago.

I'd walked into the kitchen with my empty bowl and my coffee mug. Lachlan was coming in from outside after shoveling the front sidewalk, which I'd told him he did not have to do. He was panting, and his cheeks were red. The moment he saw me, his clothes started coming off. Mine quickly followed, leaving a trail behind us. We made it to the living room couch before we were naked, gasping each other's names with our limbs entangled around each other, his cold and mine warm. We spent the rest of the day having sex until he had to catch his plane. We had never actually fallen asleep together, though.

When I returned home from the holiday, the following week was full of preparations for the New Year's Eve party I'd been hired to help put on at the university for the faculty and graduate students. Fortunately, that left little time during the day to think about Lachlan. But then there was the night. That's when I dreamt of his naked body. The feel of his skin. Of him on me. Inside me.

Was I getting in over my head? Obviously, he was an adult who could make his own decisions, but still... He was my tenant. Wasn't that wrong? Surely, this was just a fling. Neither of us were wanting a relationship. Right? He'd never said he did. A year from now, after two more semesters, he'd be done with his degree and would move on with his life. Possibly go back the UK like his brother. What if he didn't, though? What if he stuck around? Maybe I should broach the subject so we were both clear on where we stood. No sense allowing miscommunication to ruin a good thing.

On New Year's Eve, I saw a cab turn into the drive. From my upstairs office at the top of the landing, I heard the backdoor open and close. There were footsteps along with the sounds of a rolling suitcase on the hardwood between the kitchen tile and the living room rug then back to hardwood in the hall, but Lachlan didn't call out. And he didn't come up to see me.

Maybe he'd gotten me out of his system during his break.

Just the possibility of that resulted in a deep pang in my chest, and I told myself not to dwell on it. Twenty minutes later, I hung up from my last phone call regarding the party arrangements and closed my laptop. When I walked into my room to take a shower, Lachlan was on my bed. Naked.

I groaned even though a smirk spread across my face. "Good thing I didn't know you were waiting. It would have made it hard to finish my work."

"Oh, you want to talk about hard?" he grinned at me, his hand stroking his cock. "Come here."

My hands shook while I removed my clothes. He had rolled the covers down on the bed so they made a mountain near the foot. Two pillows were piled at the edge. I didn't have to ask what they were for.

I leaned down and met his mouth with mine. We lingered for a minute, our hands wandering. Then I pulled back and climbed onto the bed on all fours. Positioning the pile of covers beneath my stomach, I settled in with my head and arms on the pillows, my ass raised up and my knees spread wide beneath me.

All the tension that had been building inside me since his departure dissipated the moment Lachlan's cock slid into my pussy from behind. His hands massaged at my shoulders then moved down to my hips and lower back. Then they settled on my ass, caressing, squeezing, and spreading my cheeks while he slowly built me up.

The room filled with the guttural sounds of pleasure and the distinct smell of sweat and sex. I came three times. It was invigorating. He pulled off the condom to release onto my backside when he was done. Then he helped me up, and we took a shower together before I had to get dressed and leave for the party.

I cursed myself the moment I was in my car and remembered I had wanted to talk with him about this thing we had going on...before we had sex again.

###

Late that night, I felt both pleased with how the event had turned out, yet frustrated about what I had witnessed. I toed off my heels and stripped off my dress and underwear, leaving them all in a puddle on the floor next to my bed. Seeing the covers still in the same position from this afternoon—though slightly wrinkled—I wanted to cry myself to sleep. My pussy betrayed me, however, and throbbed at the recollection of how good it had felt to kneel on my bed the way I had. To have Lachlan screwing me.

I frowned. Screwing me in more ways than one, apparently. I couldn't erase seeing him with that redhead, his arm around her. Okay, it was resting on top of the bar and she had cozied up beside him in the space he'd provided, but he hadn't moved away from her. And I hadn't missed how she laughed at whatever he said in the little group of six clustered there, barely eating the appetizers she'd taken that I'd so painstakingly arranged with the caterer. How he smiled openly at her.

When he passed by me an hour later, sans arm-candy, Lachlan had been his normal, brooding self. But he gave me a wink. I'd wanted to throw my champagne in his face. And I ensured I was nowhere near him or that hussy when the clock struck midnight. As the guests dissipated, I busied myself with cleanup until the dean pulled me aside to praise my services...and told me to skedaddle.

Alone in my bedroom, I left the bedside lamp on and crawled back into the same position I'd been in earlier, sighing at the softness of the comforter pressing against my naked breasts, belly, and the tops of my thighs. The cool air of the room felt good on the heated skin between my legs. In this position, my feet rested one on top of the other behind me, my ass raised by the bulge of bed linens underneath. It was surprisingly comfortable.

With deep inhales and exhales, I tried to relax. In with validation, out with the jealousy. Over and over. Telling myself that Lachlan wasn't mine. We'd staked no claim on each other. Who was I to get upset that he was with another woman? He was my tenant that I'd had sex with. That was all. We'd had our fun. Maybe it was time to be over.

No matter how long I knelt there, I couldn't fall asleep. I kept thinking of things from the party...not just my lover. Different comments from the guests. Ways to improve for next time. I considered getting up to make notes, but I knew once I started, I'd be up for hours. I would regret it tomorrow if I didn't get some rest.

Then I thought of one sure-fire way to speed that process along.

I groaned slightly while I adjusted and sighed when my fingers brushed over my pussy in slow circles. Then I increased the pressure against my clit. Despite my new-found contempt for him, my mind thought of Lachlan touching me. But in this position and in my tired and agitated state, it was difficult to reach as far back as I needed to and concentrate, to ease the growing ache. I let out a soft grunt of distaste.

I'd heard nothing to indicate I was no longer alone. Still, I could feel the tiny hairs standing up on my arms and legs. I'd felt it many times over the months. I was being watched.

My hair fell across my eyes when I slowly turned my head. I stuck out my lower lip and tried to blow at the tendrils, but that accomplished nothing. My right arm trapped beneath my body, I managed to grasp my hair with my left hand and pull it aside.

Lachlan was leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed with a short glass of amber liquid in one hand. His dress shirt was untucked and hung open, his sleeves rolled up. The light from the hallway was on and gave a soft, glowing backdrop to his silhouette.

Feeling exposed, I sat up on my knees and pulled a pillow in front of my body. He slowly sipped his drink, his eyes appearing to be trained on me.

Derision laced my voice when I quipped, "Did you have a good time at the party?"

His gaze met mine from across the span of less than ten feet. He just took another sip.

I wished I could read what was going on behind those green eyes. They were always dark and dramatic. I'd looked at them quite often during our conversations since I'd always been taught to make eye contact when talking to someone. But I'd never had the opportunity to just stare into their depths. When we had sex and I was facing him, he was bringing me such pleasure, I often had my eyes closed. I suddenly wanted to get lost in his...to discover what made this brooding man so withdrawn and mysterious. Why he'd not told me about his other girl. Or were there girls?

Although I despised the habit, I found myself imagining the glass was a cigarette dangling between his fingers that he kept lifting to his lips to take a long drag from before he slowly blew out the smoke. Against my better judgment, it excited me to think of him watching me finger myself...making me wait for him to finish smoking before I could come. Or how he'd stare down at me smoking while I knelt at his feet, his cock in my mouth and his free hand on my head, guiding me to do what he wanted while he puffed away. Both of which we had experienced multiple times, sans cigarettes.

The longer he stared at me, the more my imagination ran wild...the more my pussy clenched in desire.

I was still ruminating these fantasies when I realized Lachlan was closing the distance between us. Suddenly, I found that I couldn't move.