Meant To Be Yours. Susan Mallery

with each circle, she brushed against the base of his erection, she felt how hard he was, how ready.

      “Tell me it’s not going to take long,” he breathed.

      “It’s not.”

      She was so close already. Her orgasm was just there, on the fringes. Still holding his gaze, she moved up and down faster and faster. She could feel her breasts bouncing, her face flushing, her release getting closer. Need built and built until she was overwhelmed and had no choice but to give in to her orgasm. She cried out, her body contracting around him, forcing him over the edge. His hands tightened on her hips, holding her still as he pushed in even farther, pressing against the very heart of her and groaning as he came.

      Renee stayed where she was for a few seconds. Reality returned and she had to face the fact that she was naked, straddling a man she barely knew and his penis was still inside of her.

      Just as her afterglow was about to crash and burn in a sea of humiliation, Jasper smiled at her. It was a very self-satisfied male smile that spoke of his own pleasure at everything that had happened.

      “You’re not all that,” she said, shifting off him and standing. Her legs were a little shaky and she’d been stretched every which way, but she had to admit, she felt good. Better than good.

      “I’m all that and so are you.”

      He got up, as well. They cleaned up and went looking for their clothes. Once they were dressed, Renee braced herself for the speedy departure. It was what guys did, or so she’d been told. This was her first one-night stand. No regrets, she told herself. She wasn’t looking for anything but easy sex. She was a disaster at romantic relationships and knew the smartest decision was to avoid them completely. Jasper had given her everything she’d wanted.

      “Got any beer?” he asked when he’d tugged on his T-shirt.

      “I do.”

      She moved toward the kitchen. As she passed him, he reached out and lightly stroked her arm. They paused to stare at each other. One corner of his mouth turned up in a boyish half smile that left her feeling oddly...floaty.

      She grabbed a bottle for each of them and they went into the living room. So he was going to stay for a bit. That was unexpected, but nice. Really nice.

      He settled on the sofa. She hesitated a second before sitting in the chair opposite. While snuggling next to him sounded appealing and something she could get into, she didn’t actually know him that well. The truth of the statement nearly made her laugh.

       Sex?

       Why, yes, thank you. Now what was your name again?

      “Something funny?” he asked.

      “Um, no. Just thinking about stuff.”

      He studied her for a second. “You know I’m not the marrying kind, right?”

      She’d nearly taken a sip of her beer. Grateful she hadn’t, so she wouldn’t choke to death, she set the bottle on the coffee table between them and stared at him. So much for feeling floaty.

      “What are you talking about? The marrying kind? Why would you say that? Why would you think it? Who do you think I am? I don’t want to marry you. It was just sex. It was good sex but it wasn’t in the—” she held up both hands and made air quotes “‘now we have to get married’ category.”

      She didn’t know if she should stand up for emphasis or just glare convincingly.

      Jasper grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just, you plan weddings for a living.”

      “That is my job, not who I am. You write about people getting murdered. I don’t assume you’re planning to murder me. Not the marrying kind. No wondering you’re not in a relationship.”

      “Hey, don’t judge.”

      “That line deserves judgment.”

      “Can I have a do-over?”

      “Sexually or conversationally?”

      An eyebrow rose, as his expression shifted to slightly predatory. “Give me a few minutes and you can have both.”

      “You wish.” Although in truth, she thought it was a good idea, too.

      “I kind of do.”

      They smiled at each other. There was a moment of silence, but this time it was comfortable.

      “How’d you end up here?” she asked. “You don’t strike me as a Happily Inc kind of guy.”

      “My car broke down. I was living in LA and I had just driven to New York to visit my publisher and agent.”

      “You drove from LA to New York and back? Why didn’t you fly?”

      “I didn’t fly well back then. I still don’t like it, but I can do it.”

      Why wouldn’t he fly well? Oh, right, she thought. While she didn’t know the details, she’d heard rumors about his time in the military and how he’d escaped without physical injury but still had suffered from significant PTSD.

      “So you were stuck in town while they fixed your car?” she asked.

      “I was. It was an old clunker and it took a while to get the parts shipped in. I stayed at one of the hotels.”

      She picked up her beer and grinned. “Oh, please, please tell me you stayed at the Sweet Dreams Inn.”

      “Why would you care about that?”

      “I want to picture you hanging out in one of the themed rooms. The princess room or the Heidi room or the woodland creature room.”

      “There’s a woodland creature room? Why?”

      “It’s fun. I’d love it.”

      He shuddered. “That must be a girl thing. For what it’s worth, I was in the pirate room.”

      “I know that one. It’s nice.”

      When she’d first taken the job in Happily Inc, she’d made it a point to visit all the local businesses that supported the wedding industry. She wanted to be able to offer recommendations because she knew what she was talking about. To that end, she’d toured all the rooms at the Sweet Dreams Inn, so she knew the pirate room was actually fairly masculine, with a huge sailing ship doubling as a bed.

      “But still—no little woodland creatures to keep you company?” she asked, her tone wistful.

      “I’m afraid not. Argh.”

      She laughed. “Okay, I’ll accept the pirate room. So you were stuck in town and decided to stay?”

      “I didn’t have a plan. I drove around to kill time. The people were friendly enough. I was here over a Monday night, so the clerk at the front desk suggested I head to The Boardroom for game night.”

      “And you were hooked?”

      “I was intrigued.” He shifted so he rested his bare feet on the coffee table. “I contacted a local real estate agent about places on the market. I knew I wouldn’t want to live in town, so I wasn’t expecting much. My house is the first place we saw. I looked at a half dozen more, realized I’d already found what I wanted and made an offer.”

      “And here you are.”

      His gaze locked with hers. “Here we both are.”

      She felt the tension rising between them. It was nice. Sexy and insistent. Inside, heat began to build.

      “So I’m not looking for a relationship,” she said. “I haven’t ever had good luck in the romance department.” Which was putting it mildly, she thought. Her love life had been a disaster, and while she wanted to say it was her mother’s fault, in truth there were other reasons.

      “Giving up on