Meeting Mr Anderson (The Men Series Book 1)

“You keep surprising me, Holly,” Jay says as he studies my face.

“A good surprise?” I feel more sober and self-conscious about the fact that I’m naked with his body in mine. What if he thinks I act like that with everyone I’ve just met?

I move my leg back so we separate. Jay takes the condom off, ties a knot in it, and drops it on the floor next to the bed before turning back to face me. He wraps a warm arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest.

“An exceptional surprise,” he says, his eyes twinkling. “Like eating your favorite cereal and hunting for the toy in the box, only to discover you’ve got the entire frigging set in there!” he says before breaking into a smile and looking like a schoolboy who’s met his superhero. “It’s always the quiet ones,” he says in mock disbelief, watching for my reaction.

I can’t help but giggle and his eyes crinkle at the sides as he smiles at me, seeming pleased that he’s made me laugh.

“Seriously though, Holly”—he runs a finger up and down the curve of my hip—“please tell me if I’m overstepping the mark here, but you don’t seem to realize how great you are.”

I look at him, his face full of sincerity and concern. I want to open up to him. My gut tells me I can trust him, and anyway, I may never see him again.

“My ex,” I begin, moving back from Jay and looking down at the bed. “He, um, he told me I was…” I stop talking, my hand fiddling with the edge of the pillow.

“He told you what?” Jay’s gentle voice coaxes.

“He told me I was boring in bed, you know, frigid,” I say as I feel heat rise in my cheeks.

“He what?” Jay whips straight up into a sitting position.

“That’s not all.” I take a deep breath to steady my nerves over what I’m about to say. Even though it’s been nine months, talking about it still brings back all the feelings of shame I felt when it first happened. “He filmed us together and showed it around to some of his friends.” I swallow back tears, my cheeks burning at the humiliation and complete betrayal of trust. I vomited in shock when I first found out. Jay’s eyes are on fire, his expression murderous. A vein in his neck pulses and his hands are in tight fists by his sides. I shouldn’t have told him; he looks so angry.

“It was a long time ago,” I say, sitting up and reaching for his hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” Jay says, taking my hand in his. His anger is obvious, but I can tell he’s trying to rein it in. “The thought of some asshole doing that to you. Doing that to anyone. God, I want to snap his neck!” He spits.  He looks at me, his beautiful eyes holding mine. “He doesn’t know a thing, Holly. He didn’t deserve you.” He takes a couple of deep breaths and his shoulders loosen ever so slightly. He reaches out and takes my other hand. “Come with me.”

Jay leads me into the bathroom and turns on the shower. Steam fills the room. He pulls me in under the warm water with him, and as it runs over our bodies, he takes my face in his hands, staring into my eyes.

“Only listen to me from now on, Holly. My voice,” he says as he presses my body back against the cool tile wall. He lowers his lips to my ear and his warm breath sends goosebumps up my arms.

I’m transfixed as his deep voice whispers into my ear. “You are incredible.” He kisses behind my ear as he places one hand between my legs, parting them gently. His hand strokes, slowly caressing me. My legs feel like jelly, weak from the incredible orgasm I just had. He has to use his other arm around my waist to hold me up and support me. I wrap my arms around his neck and run my hands through his hair.

“You are so sexy,” he whispers, continuing to stroke me, his lips grazing against my collarbone as he sucks, nibbles, and kisses up and down my neck. “You amaze me,” he says as his arm tightens around my waist and he pulls me even closer. His other hand keeps moving between my legs, his strokes slow and purposeful, his fingers skilled. I moan out loud, his name escaping my lips as my arousal grows. He slides two thick fingers through my wet lips and deep inside me. My body clenches around them, sucking him in.

“Holly, beautiful Holly,” he murmurs into my ear and I shudder at the intense pleasure as his thumb finds my clitoris and circles it. He’s gentle at first, taking his time, building up the pressure and speed. I tilt my head back against the hard tiles as my orgasm builds. It’s going to take every last ounce of energy my body has. The pressure builds, my entire body tensing, before I shatter in his arms and come. This time with his words and touches of adoration filling my senses.

We stay like this for a long time. His strong arms supporting me, my head resting against his chest. He holds me, letting the water just wash down over us. What he’s just given to me is incredible. I glimpsed who he is, how big his heart is. He’s a beautiful person to want to heal the pain from my past in such a tender way. How can this be a one-night stand? It may be my first, but this can’t be normal? Don’t his actions prove it’s more to him?

He loosens his grip on my waist, steadying me on my feet before letting go. My skin burns at the loss of his touch. He reaches over to a recessed shelf built into the tile wall and picks up a white shower puff and bottle, then squeezes some shower gel onto it. Then he places the puff against my skin, tenderly rubbing it across my body. He washes my neck, breasts, stomach, hips, and then my back, before bending down to his knees and washing up and down each leg. When he stands, he places the puff against my pussy, still throbbing from his earlier touch. His eyes hold mine as he washes me there.

“My turn,” I say quietly.

Jay hands me the puff and watches as I put more gel onto it. I swirl it across his chest, admiring his toned muscles and strong, broad shoulders. He really is an intense example of the male sex. I wash across his washboard abs, admiring the perfect V shape his muscles make down from his hips, so masculine and virile, I can’t help smiling. I gently wash between his legs and his cock twitches at my touch.

“Turn around, pretty boy.” I smirk at him.

He pretends to look outraged and splashes some water toward my face. “Don’t get cheeky now, my juicy little berry.”

“Berry! Who are you calling a berry?” I squeal as I splash him back.

He tries to hide his smirk before speaking. “Holly, I know you have such a juicy, tasty little berry.” He pretends to sound seductive. “So I shall call you my juicy little berry,” he says firmly as he turns around.

What the? I try not to laugh as I don’t want him to think he’s funny, even though he can probably tell I’m trying to hold back a giggle. His juicy berry? As if.

I wash his legs and then his bum. It’s the first time I’ve really seen it. It’s toned and muscular, smooth, and perfect. I fight back the urge to bend down and bite it, instead choosing to run my hands over it while it’s slick with soap. This night has turned out so unexpectedly. Twenty-four hours ago, I was running to catch what I thought was just going to be another regular flight and now I’m here, in Jay Anderson’s shower, washing his incredible ass. I bite my lip to stop myself from breaking into a goofy grin, afraid that if I let it appear it will never leave my face. As I wash Jay’s back with the puff, I notice he has a small tattoo on his right shoulder, the initials ‘RC’, in a beautiful, black, spiraled script.

“Who’s RC?”

The muscles in his back immediately tighten. He doesn’t answer straightaway.

“RC was my best friend,” he says, his voice not much more than a whisper. “Rob died when we were twenty-one.”

I freeze for a moment. The only sound is the shower water falling around us.

I slowly start washing his back again. “I’m so sorry… Do you want to talk about it?”

He lets out a big sigh, his shoulders slumping, like he has the weight of the world on them. “Not right now, Holly, not tonight. Thank you, though.”

“Okay,” I say, wrapping my arms around his back and holding on to his chest. I press my lips tenderly against his back and kiss it.

After the shower, I’m standing at the sink to take my makeup off with a hot washcloth and some soap. Jay is watching me, fascinated.

“What?” I eye him in the mirror.

“I’m just waiting to see if I still recognize you,” he jokes.

I turn and throw the washcloth at him, aiming for his chest, but he lifts a hand and catches it with ease as he grins at me.

He comes up and wraps his arms around me from behind, moving my hair away from one shoulder so he can press a kiss to it. “You look beautiful. Your hair’s like a ray of sunshine around you.”

“I didn’t know you were a poet.” I grin.

I look at our reflection in the mirror. Him, tall, strong, and muscular, with his sandy hair all tousled, and his intense blue eyes. Me, smaller, my long gold-blond hair kissed by the sun, making my green eyes look brighter and alert.

Could this work? I feel so connected to him somehow. Being with him, I forget how different our lives are. But then, this must happen all the time for him. Bringing a girl home. Only…I cast my mind back to the tender orgasm he gave me in the shower. The way he whispered all those words to me while he worshipped my body. I’m sure there was more to it, something deeper.

“Come on, Berry.” He smiles. “You look shattered.”

“That’s because some sex god took me back to his house to have his way with me for hours,” I shoot back, raising an eyebrow at him.

“A sex god, hmm? The way I remember it, a sweet girl named Holly came home to see the view from my window, and a dirty-talking sex kitten emerged and had her way with me.” His voice sounds innocent. “I was powerless to her charms, didn’t stand a chance,” he teases.

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes at him, grinning like an idiot inside.

We go back into his bedroom and get into the bed together. I sink into the plush bedding that has Jay’s scent on it.  He lies on his back and pulls me up against his side so my head rests on his chest. I say nothing. I just listen to the sound of his breath going in and out of his body as I fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.