Mr. Nice Guy by Belinda Williams

Chapter Nineteen

Tom immediately wishedhe could take his words back.

What was wrong with him? He’d had next to no sleep, that’s what. He’d spent the majority of the night painfully aware of Chelsea beside him in the bed. After tossing and turning for most of the night, he’d managed to drift off sometime just before dawn.

When he’d woken, the bed had been empty. For a moment, he thought it had all been a dream. And then she’d come out of the bathroom, fresh-faced and beaming at him, and he’d experienced that familiar kick to the gut that proved to him what he already knew.

He wanted Chelsea.

And now he’d gone and ruined everything by telling her so.

‘Naughty,’ she whispered, her blue eyes bright and almost shy.

Tom swallowed. ‘What?’

She attempted a smile. ‘You’re going to make me say it again?’

Hell, no. He just couldn’t believe her response. Tom had spent so long being nice to her, the naughty part of him was buried deep.

Kiss her, you fool.

So he kissed her.

Sweetly, deliberately, and determined to draw out the maximum amount of pleasure for her. Lips brushing lips while his fingertips caressed her face. Then he gently risked deepening the kiss, because how could he not?

When she sighed and stepped in close, winding her arms around his neck, he suddenly didn’t feel like being quite so sweet anymore.

His hands slid along her sides to her hips and he tugged her against him, pressing the evidence of his need against her.

She stiffened, but didn’t move away.

‘This is what you do to me, Chels. You drive me mad.’ He whispered it because he was too scared to say it louder than that.

Her eyes, now impossibly wide, studied him with interest. ‘Show me.’

His breath hitched and he pressed his forehead to hers, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

It was too much like a dream. But if this wasn’t real, then maybe he could do exactly what he’d dreamed of for so long.

He drew her in for another kiss, his hands wandering and doing not-so-nice things like kneading her backside and brushing her breast with the back of his hand through her T-shirt.

She moaned softly, and Tom took it as an invitation to explore further. His hands dived underneath her top, stroking the bare skin of her back. Then he swiftly undid her bra and pushed her top over her head. She was panting by the time he extracted the bra from her arms.

‘You’re beautiful, Chels. Inside and out.’

Then he lowered his mouth to her breast, and she arched back, shuddering as his tongue did some of the wonderfully naughty things he’d dreamed of. Chelsea gripped his shoulders, holding on tight.

When his lips had worked their way down to the area around her belly button, his mind had formed a plan. A naughty plan.

He lowered himself to the edge of the bed and hooked his thumbs through the belt hooks on her jeans, tugging her towards him. When she stopped directly in front of him, he gave her a crooked smile. His face was at the same level as her stomach.

‘Chelsea?’

‘Yes?’ She looked down at him, sounding breathless.

‘Do you want things to go further?’

She nodded, apparently finding it difficult to speak.

‘I’m not going to make love to you,’ he told her, and she blinked. ‘You heard me. I’m still a nice guy when it comes down to it, and we’ve only been pretend dating for a week. But we can do other things, because I’m not as nice as you think I am. How does that sound?’

She bit her lip, which was rosy and swollen from their kisses. ‘It sounds perfect.’

Tom felt himself grow harder and the not-so-nice part of him ached to be inside her, but he fought it.

‘Good. Now let’s get you naked.’

Tom ran a thumb across the waistband of her jeans, then slowly undid the zip, dragging out the moment. It was like he was unwrapping a gift he’d been waiting for all year, and he wanted to savour the expectation.

Chelsea was less patient. She shoved her jeans down her legs and kicked them off, closely followed by her panties so she was standing completely naked in front of him.

Holy shit.

It was going to take every ounce of self-control he had not to throw her onto the bed and bury himself deep inside her. To distract himself, he put his hands on her hips and guided her closer. Then his mouth found her sweet spot and he got to work.

* * *

Chelsea was prettysure she was going to die before they made it home.

Either that or she wouldn’t be able to walk again.

Tom’s kisses had been sweet and surprisingly sensual. Although she was discovering that his tongue was anything but sweet. It was downright dirty and keen to please, which was an amazing combination.

Now that he was concentrating his efforts between her legs, it was all she could do to stay upright. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, but he didn’t seem bothered or even to notice.

He was too busy with his tongue.

Chelsea’s head lolled backwards so she was staring absently at the ceiling. Was it wrong that she was this relaxed standing butt-naked in front of him while he made love to her with his mouth?

This was Tom. Housemate Tom.

‘Oh, Tom,’ she moaned, as his tongue did something particularly magical to her.

Whoever this Tom was, she wanted him. If he hadn’t explicitly told her that they weren’t going to make love, she would have collapsed onto the bed already and spread her legs for him. The fact she couldn’t have him right now drove her even more wild. It had her grinding against his mouth and bucking against him.

But it wasn’t enough.

‘Tom,’ she moaned again, but this time her voice held a note of displeasure.

Tom eased back and looked at her.

‘It’s not enough,’ she told him. ‘I want you.’

There was that grin again. That naughty grin, and it only served to intensify her need for him.

‘Can’t have me,’ he said simply. ‘I told you. I’m not that kind of guy. This is all about you today.’

Chelsea let out something between a sigh and a sob, wanting to stamp her foot in frustration like one of her preschoolers. ‘What if I told you I want you to fuck me, Tom? Right now. Right here. What would you say to that?’

Tom’s green eyes darkened to that mossy green she was starting to like so much. ‘I’d say that’s a pretty tempting idea, but you’ll have to put that idea out of your mind for now.’

‘Why?’ she whined.

His eyes grew darker still. ‘So I can do this.’

He tugged her back towards him and this time when his mouth found her, he slipped a finger between her legs, too.

She inhaled a sharp breath, not because it had hurt, but because it had felt so good. Damn it. If he wasn’t going to make love to her, this was the next best thing.

She grabbed his wrist and slowly pushed him deeper, sighing in satisfaction.

‘More, please,’ she whispered.

She thought she saw Tom smile, but his tongue was busy again, and now so was his hand. As his tongue circled her, his hand set a steady pace that had Chelsea rocking her hips restlessly. Her legs began to feel weak, and she braced herself against him using his shoulders to hold her up.

Soon she barely registered that she was standing. She was just a mass of quivering nerve endings, tingling and firing over and over again at his mercy.

When she whimpered, Tom increased his pace and Chelsea arched backwards. It was so intense it was almost unbearable.

‘Give me . . . time to . . . breathe. It’s too much, Tom. Much too much.’

‘No.’

His firm answer sent a thrill through her, but it was still too much.

‘But I can’t—’

‘You can, Chelsea. I’m not stopping.’

She released a keening sound, like an animal might, and squirmed on top of him. She felt helpless, but it was the best sort of helpless.

The pressure built until her entire body was alight. Fingers. Toes. Legs. Arms. And burning the brightest was the aching need deep in her belly. When she squirmed yet again and tried to pull away, Tom held her fast and slipped a second finger inside her, maintaining his pace.

It didn’t take long for the heat to completely engulf her, and she rocked, bucked, shuddered, and then collapsed forwards onto him. Tom caught her and cradled her fall, pulling her naked body against his fully clothed one so that she was lying on top of him on the bed.

She was unable to move, so she laid there tingling and shellshocked at how she’d just come apart so wonderfully and completely in front of him.

‘Alright?’ Tom whispered.

‘Mmpf,’ she replied into his shoulder.

His chest rose up and down with his laughter. ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

She shifted her head to rest her cheek against him so that she could speak properly. ‘What about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘Um, don’t you want to . . . relieve yourself?’

He stroked her hair. ‘Maybe later.’

She frowned. ‘I don’t believe you.’ She discovered that she still had the use of her left hand and used it to locate Tom’s groin area. ‘You’re as hard as a rock.’

‘Careful, Chels,’ he said between gritted teeth. ‘You’re playing with fire.’

She shifted back to look at him, and there was that thrill again. ‘But don’t you want—’

He caught her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. ‘I got what I wanted. Now why don’t you fix yourself up? There’s still time to grab breakfast before we check out.’

She gaped at him. Shit. She’d totally forgotten that they had to be out of here in . . . She glanced at the bedside clock, then scrambled to get up.

‘Crap! We don’t have long.’

‘Blame me. It’s all my fault.’ His grin was completely self-satisfied.

She shot him an incredulous look. Blame Tom? After that mind-blowing experience? He must be kidding.

Then a naughty but nice thought occurred to her. ‘I can punish you later.’

With that, she gave him a wink, and raced to the bathroom to tidy up.