Imagine With Me: A With Me In Seattle Novel Page 6

  “Really?”

  My eyes fly to his. “Yes. Really. Seriously okay with it. If you are.”

  He watches me carefully, as if he’s looking to make sure I’m not lying, so I raise my chin and arch a brow.

  “Unless you’re having second thoughts?”

  That gets him moving. He crowds me, unfastens my bra with masterful fingers, and lets it fall to the floor while his mouth slants over mine, kissing and biting as if he’s a starved man. I unfasten his pants, and they slouch around his hips. My hands glide down his back to the top of his exposed ass, and I push under the denim to work his jeans off until they pool at his feet.

  Without another thought, I cup his impressive manhood in my palm and enjoy the warm, smooth skin. The weight of him. And then, for a brief moment, I panic.

  He’s a big man, in both stature and penis size. This massive thing is never going to fit.

  But before I can give voice to my concerns, Shawn lifts me and carries me down the hallway to his bedroom. The sidelight is already on next to the bed when he sets me on the mattress and climbs over me, kissing his way up my torso as he goes.

  When he plucks at my nipples with his lips, I think I might die of pleasure.

  My hands dive into his hair as he kisses along my collarbone and up my neck to my jawline.

  “You’re so good with your mouth,” I whisper.

  His hand finds mine, and as he links our fingers, he backs away so he can stare down at me with those intense green eyes.

  “Sometimes, I like things a little rough. A lot intense,” he says.

  “Do I need a safe word?”

  He doesn’t laugh, or even smile for that matter. “It’s a good idea.”

  Well, now I’m beyond curious. And turned on. “How about stop?”

  “Anytime you say ‘stop,’ I’ll check in with you. Every time. But you need another word that tells me if you think you’re in trouble.”

  “I’m not into breath play, or being choked.”

  “Me either.” He nuzzles my cheek and then places a kiss there. “I’m into pleasure, Lex. Lots of it. But I need a word from you to let me know if I’ve gone too far.”

  “Watermelon.”

  He raises a brow and then smiles. “Any reason for that choice?”

  “I hate it.”

  “That works.” He kisses my nose. “I’m going to do things to you that you’ve never dreamed of. And when I’m done, you’ll be begging for more.”

  “Or passed out in bliss,” I reply and drag my hand down his side to his ass. “You’re in excellent shape for a writer.”

  He kisses the ball of my shoulder. “What are writers supposed to look like?”

  “I don’t know. And I know it’s a horrible statement. I’m just saying, based on your muscle mass, I’d expect you to tell me you carry trees for a living or something.”

  That makes him laugh-snort. “Trees?”

  “Heavy things.” I can’t stop my hands from roaming. His skin, his body is every girl’s fantasy.

  “You look like you run marathons,” he says.

  “Not anymore.”

  His head comes up and he stares down at me. “You ran marathons?”

  “Like ten years ago, yeah. Before the writing became all-consuming. I miss it sometimes. Okay, let’s not talk about this.”

  “In about three minutes, you’re not going to be able to talk at all.”

  “My lips are numb. I’m not sure how I’m speaking now,” I admit.

  Shawn slides my pants down my legs, and then it’s do not pass go because his fingers land right on my pussy. “How about these lips? Are they numb?”

  “Nope,” I reply, nearly jackknifing off the bed. “Total sensation there.”

  “Excellent.” He pushes my legs up and spreads them wide, and then his mouth covers me, licking and sucking, making the biggest mess between my legs I’ve ever experienced. And he’s totally right.

  I can’t speak.

  I can only writhe and pant and pull on his thick, dark hair. I don’t know whether I should beg him to stop or plead with him to continue forever. With his lips fastened around my lips, he presses his thumb against my clit, and I shatter.

  As I fall back to Earth, Shawn licks up my pubis and tickles my navel, then plucks at my nipples with his teeth as he pins my arms above my head with one hand.

  I frown. “I like touching you.”

  “And you will again.” He reaches for a condom, tears it open with his teeth, and manages to sheath himself one-handed. He nudges his way between my legs and then pauses.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Well, you’re massive, so that’s inevitable.”

  His lips twitch. “That was excellent for my ego.”

  “It’s the truth. But I’m so hot and bothered right now, I don’t think it’s going to hurt at all.”

  His face softens. “Just tell me. No safe word, just tell me if it isn’t good. Okay?”

  “Deal.”

  He pushes in, and where I thought he’d meet resistance, that I’d have to breathe to work through the initial sting of pain, there’s only pleasure. I’m so wet, he slips in easily, and then he smiles down at me.

  “Okay?”

  “Holy hell, Shawn, more than okay.”

  “That’s what I want to hear.” He moves his hips in a slow circle and then speeds up. The head of his cock drags against my sensitive walls, and I feel the pressure building inside me all over again.

  He finally releases my hands so he can brace himself against the wall above my head, and I immediately grip his ass, urging him to go faster, a little harder.

  “Here, love.” He reverses our position, and I eagerly ride him, then reach back to cup his balls as I clench my inner walls and watch in fascination as he succumbs to his own climax.

  We’re panting—heaving really—watching each other as we gather our wits and come down from the high of the best orgasm in the history of the world.

  “I think I’m sober now,” I say with a breathy laugh before collapsing on Shawn’s chest. “Sober and sated.”

  Chapter 6

  ~Lexi~

  I turn onto my side and stretch like a lazy cat, enjoying the way the crisp, cool sheets feel against my naked skin. My muscles are sore. Deliciously so. Shawn gave me a workout last night that I won’t soon forget. And while he didn’t do anything that was even close to needing a safe word, he was intense in his lovemaking. I’m excited to explore this with him. Is it unprofessional and inappropriate? Yeah, it is. We’re colleagues, and he’s roughly seven years younger than me. I mean, I’m not old enough to be his mother, but I am about the same age as his eldest brother.

  I suppose that as long as it doesn’t bother him, it shouldn’t bother me. But I might ask him about it later, just to be sure.

  Although, given how he behaved throughout the night, I’d guess our age gap isn’t a concern for him. Not in the least.

  I open my eyes, expecting to see Shawn lying next to me, but the bed is empty. I take a deep breath, and the smell of bacon and coffee invades my senses.

  Shawn can cook. I should start running again just to burn off the extra calories I’ve been consuming thanks to the man’s culinary skills.

  I rub my eyes as I climb out of bed and pad into Shawn’s closet to help myself to one of his shirts. My stuff is all in the guest room upstairs, and I’m not going to wear the grease-smelling shirt I wore at the pub last night.

  I slip into a black T-shirt that hangs down to mid-thigh on me, slip a condom into the breast pocket just in case, and walk out to the kitchen.

  Shawn is wearing a white tee and gym shorts. His hair is a mess from my fingers, and he has a day’s worth of scruff of his face. He works efficiently, dropping batter onto a skillet.

  “You’re making me pancakes?”

  His head comes up, and a grin spreads over his handsome-as-sin face as he takes me in from head to toe.


  “I thought you’d be hungry,” he says.

  “You thought right.”

  I could sit on one of the stools at the island, but instead, I walk around and hug him from behind, pressing my cheek to the center of his back.

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” I reply before letting go and walking over to the coffee machine to brew myself a cup. He’s quiet while he flips pancakes, and I pour cream into my coffee. When I turn around, I find him staring at me. “What?”

  “You look good in my kitchen.”

  I grin as I boost myself onto a stool and watch him as he puts the finished pancakes into the warm oven, then pours more batter onto the skillet.

  “How do you feel this morning?” he asks.

  “Fine. Not hungover like I thought I would be.”

  He nods. “That’s good.”

  I narrow my eyes, watching him. Finally, he sighs and looks me square in the eyes.

  “Why is this awkward?”

  “I don’t feel awkward.” I tilt my head. “Do you regret last night?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Is it weird because of my age?”

  He blinks at me and then smirks. “No. Not even a little.”

  Well, at least there’s that.

  “Then I’m not sure what the issue is. Amazing, consensual sex is nothing to feel awkward about.”

  His shoulders relax, and I immediately jump off the stool and circle the island to stand next to him.

  “Wait. Did you think you took advantage of me because of the whiskey?”

  He shrugs a shoulder. “I know you had your wits about you. You weren’t that drunk, but I wanted to make sure that you’re still okay with everything that happened.”

  I find myself softening toward him more every day. Shawn is a thoughtful man.

  I boost myself up onto the countertop and fist his shirt, pulling him between my legs. My hands glide up his chest and over his shoulders, and then my fingers dive into his hair as his head lowers to mine.

  “Coworkers with benefits is the best idea you’ve had since I met you,” I say against his lips.

  His arms encircle me as his mouth plunders mine. Without breaking the kiss, he reaches over and unplugs the skillet, making me grin.

  “I didn’t give you permission to wear this,” he says.

  “Oh, sorry.” I slip the shirt over my head and set it on the counter next to me. “I’ll be sure to ask next time.”

  But he’s no longer listening to me. His green eyes are the deep color of grass on a rainy day as his gaze roams my chest, and then moves farther down. His hand glides up my thigh, and then two fingers are suddenly and expertly inside me. I gasp and hold onto his shoulders as he moves his hand.

  “Ah, shit.”

  “Watching you get worked up is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice is Irish when he’s turned on, and it only turns me on more. “That’s it, love. I fucking love it when you flush like that. Just for me.”

  He kisses my neck, drags his tongue up to my ear, and I’m helpless to do anything but ride his hand.

  I fumble with the shirt next to me, and when I find the condom, I hold it up to him.

  “Fuck me, Shawn.”

  He growls, deep in his throat. “Good girl.”

  He can’t tear it open fast enough, and when he’s finally sheathed, he pulls me to the edge of the countertop and easily slides inside me, making us both moan in delight.

  “Like a damn fist,” he mutters.

  I can’t respond. I can only hold on as he fucks me—on his countertop. And when we’re finally sated and catching our breath, he takes my face in his hands and looks me deeply in the eyes.

  “For as long as you’re here, you’re mine. Understand?”

  “Yeah. Back at you.”

  He grins and kisses me deeply, then tugs the shirt back over my head.

  “If you stay naked, I’ll keep fucking you, and we’ll never eat.”

  Mom: Hello dear. I haven’t heard from you in a couple of weeks, so I thought I would check in.

  I read the text and roll my eyes. I love my mom. We get along great, and since my dad died about five years ago, we’ve grown even closer. She’s awesome.

  But she’s also fabulous at guilt trips. The phone works both ways. If she wants to talk, all she has to do is call.

  Rather than text her back, I dial her number and press the phone to my ear as I watch Shawn changing the oil in his car.

  I didn’t know men still did that. Apparently, he does.

  “Hello, Lexi.”

  “Hi, Mom. You know, if you want to talk, you can always call me. I’ll answer and everything.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I’m interrupting your work.”

  So, I send texts filled with parent guilt. Got it.

  “How are you, Mom? What’s new?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. Your aunt Darla and I went to the farmer’s market this morning, and I found some fresh strawberries, so I’m going to make some jam. I’ll be sure to save you a jar.”

  “Yum, sounds awesome, thanks.” I sip my lemonade and watch as Shawn lifts something that must be heavy. I can’t tell what it is, but the muscles under his shirt bunch deliciously with the effort.

  Goodness, he’s a sight to behold.

  “How are things in Seattle?”

  I have to look away from the gun show happening just outside the window so I can concentrate on the conversation at hand.

  “I’m actually staying just outside the city on an island with Shawn O’Callaghan, the screenwriter I’m working with.”

  “Oh, I thought you were staying in the city.”

  “Well, I was, but we weren’t getting much done because of distractions and noise. This is much more comfortable.”

  I don’t mention that we’re still not getting much done because he’s a stubborn ass and we can’t seem to agree on anything when it comes to the project.

  “So, you found a nice hotel, then?”

  “No, I’m actually staying at his house. He lives on the island.”

  She’s quiet, and I can hear the disapproving side-eye.

  “I’m staying in his guest room, Mom.”

  I mean, as of last night, I’m staying in his bed, but my things are still in his guest room, so it’s not a complete lie.

  “And his family owns a really fun Irish pub here on the island. I’ve been helping out in the kitchen.”

  “You’re working in a bar?”

  She sounds scandalized. It’s awesome.

  “I guess so. But I’m just helping out. Shawn took me with him the first night we were here, and I really enjoyed it, so I’ve been tagging along. They’re nice people, Mom. You’d like them.”

  “You sound different,” she says.

  “In what way?”

  “Honestly, you sound happy. Maybe even more confident. My daughter doesn’t enjoy leaving her house for much, let alone working in a bar.”

  I shrug a shoulder, even though she can’t see me.

  “I’m having fun. And I’m happy.”

  “Well, that’s all that matters, then. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, honey. I’m going over to check on your condo in just a little while. I’ll let you know if anything is wrong, but I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “I appreciate you checking on it for me. I’m sure it’s fine, too, but you never know.”

  “It’s good to hear your voice, Lexi. Let’s not wait so long to chat next time.”

  “Just call me, Mom. Honest.”

  She laughs in my ear, and it makes me miss her. “I will. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  I hang up and tuck the phone into my pocket. We’re about to go to the pub for the evening. I never would have thought that I’d look forward to helping out at O’Callaghan’s the way I do. Shawn’s siblings are awesome, and the music is fun.

  Maybe my evenings there are what’s bringing me out of my shell a bi
t. I’ll have to think about it more later.

  “I just have to take a quick shower, and then I’ll be ready to go,” Shawn says as he walks into the house, wiping his hands on a rag. He stops when he sees me. “You’re wearing that?”

  I glance down at my jeans and Henley top. “What’s wrong with it? Is this shirt stained already? I just bought it before I came to Seattle.”

  “It’s tight,” he says. “It fits you like a glove.”

  I blink at him, and then realization hits. I look too good in it. “Yep, definitely wearing it.”

  He sighs. “Good to know so I can mentally prepare to break a bunch of necks tonight.”

  I laugh and shoo him with my hands. “Go get your shower so we’re not late.”

  “Bossy woman.” But he’s smiling as he hurries into his bedroom.

  “Why are you back here alone?” Maggie asks as she bustles into the kitchen.

  “Because Shawn is manning the bar while Keegan talks to the police,” I reply. “I guess he had to call the cops on some guys fighting?”

  “Oh, right. Is he still outside?” She frowns and blows a stray lock of red hair off her face. “Okay, I need two cheeseburgers and fries, and an order of nachos.”

  “Got it.”

  “Lex, do you want a job?” I turn in surprise and find Maggie’s expression is perfectly serious. “You’re really good at this.”

  I smile. Inside, I’m beaming with pride. “Thanks, but I’m only here for a few weeks to write this movie, and then I’ll be headed back to Minneapolis.”

  “Bummer,” Maggie replies just as Shawn returns to the kitchen.

  “What’s a bummer?” he asks.

  “That Lexi doesn’t want a full-time job here,” she replies before lifting a tray full of loaded plates onto her shoulder and leaving the kitchen again.

  “She offered me a job,” I say with a proud smile. “I guess I’m doing okay.”

  “Honestly, you’re doing better than that, and I’m not just saying that because I want to get into your pants.”

  I roll my eyes and turn back to the griddle to turn the hamburger patties. “Thanks.”

  Maggie returns, but her good mood has disappeared, replaced by a scowl as she slams her tray on the table. “Slimy bastard. Who does he think he is coming in here looking like that?”