A Fairbanks Affair (An Odds-Are-Good Standalone Romance, #3)

by Katy Regnery

  He’s referring to a garage door that can open to let in the cold air and offer an unrestricted view of the mountains behind his house. “Whatever you prefer.”

  While he opens the door, I take off my shirt and sweat shirt, so I’m only wearing my pajama shorts and a bra. When I look up, Trevor’s staring at me, looking as dumbfounded as his brother earlier. His eyes drop to my breasts, and without thinking twice, I reach behind my back, unlatch my bra, and let it skim down my arms.

  His lips part. His eyes widen. His nostrils flare.

  “Do you—um—have a bathing suit or—”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you want me to, um...hmm...um...” He gulps, standing a few feet away from me, this strong, savvy, experienced businessman reduced to a sputtering caveman because my breasts are naked.

  How empowering, I think, grinning to myself and maybe arching my back a little so that my breasts stick out more.

  “I could use some help getting my shorts off,” I tell him, trying out a lower and softer voice than usual.

  He blinks at me, licking his lips. “Um. Yeah. So...we’re skinny-dipping? That’s cool. That’s a...good idea.”

  “Boot first,” I say, as he stands before me.

  He kneels down, takes it gently between his hands, and pulls it off, leaning it against the chair. When he looks up at me, his eyes are so full of adoration, it would humble me if I wasn’t feeling so full of myself.

  I stand up, bearing my weight on my good foot and letting the broken one dangle. Never breaking contact with his eyes, I slip my fingers into the waistband of my shorts.

  “You do it.” I order him. “Pull them down.”

  He takes over for my fingers, and slowly, so slowly, he slides my shorts and panties down my thighs and knees, letting them fall to my ankle in a whisper. When I’m naked before him, he stares up at me, his green eyes dark and liquid, so full of emotion, it makes my heart clench, then soar.

  “I’m falling in love with you,” he tells me.

  “I am too,” I say. “Falling in love with you.”

  Then he stands up, swoops me into his arms, and deposits me gently into the hot tub.

  Chapter 12

  Faye

  Once I’m settled in the hot water, sitting on a bench built into the side of the tub, Trevor steps away, turning his back to me.

  “Trevor.”

  He looks over his shoulder at me as he’s about to take off his long-sleeved T-shirt. “Huh?”

  “Turn around.”

  His lips tilt up and eyes widen. “You want to watch?”

  I nod. “It’s only fair.”

  “Sweetheart,” he says, turning around completely. “I live to be fair.”

  I raise my arms like Hugh Hefner, spreading them out along the rim of the tub, my nipples peeking above the surface of the moving water.

  “Proceed, sir.”

  Slowly, moving his hips a little and—if I’m not mistaken—flexing his chest, he lifts his T-shirt over his head and throws it on the ground. I sigh softly, looking at the muscles on his chest that have been lifting me and carrying me for almost a week now. I’ve felt them behind me as we sleep, and even slept with my hands flattened against his chest, but I’ve never seen him on display like this before now.

  “Well,” I murmur. “That’s...lovely.”

  He raises his eyebrows at me and grins. “Ready for more?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I have to warn you, I’m going commando today.”

  I feel my face screw up in confusion. “You’re a commando? Like...in the military?”

  He chuckles softly. “It means I’m not wearing underwear.”

  “What?” I know my eyes are bugging out of my head. “None?”

  “Not a thread.”

  “Isn’t that...uncomfortable?”

  “Not when I’m wearing sweats around the house.”

  “Well, then,” I say, ignoring my blush and gesturing with my hand, like a queen to a courtier, “get on with it.”

  He laughs again, slipping his fingers into the waistband of his gray sweat pants and tugging them over his hips. To maneuver them over his erect penis, he has to pull them out and over, then lets them drop to the floor.

  And there he is: Trevor Starling, my boyfriend, my man, the first and only love of my life, standing like Adonis, gloriously naked before me.

  “Any other instructions?” he asks.

  “Mm-hm,” I hum. “Come here. I’m lonely.”

  He laughs again, and I this time, I laugh with him because playing the coquette for the first time in my life is stupid amounts of fun.

  I watch as he climbs into the tub with me, sitting across from me on the bench.

  “Why so far away?” I pout.

  “Who are you?” he asks.

  “Faye Findley.”

  “Actually,” he says, “tonight, I think you’re Faith Crawford.”

  “Fine,” I tell him, reaching out my arms. “I’m Faith Crawford too.”

  He takes my hands and lets me pull him across the tub, squatting in front of me so that his shoulders are above water, but the rest of him is below.

  “I’d hold you on my lap, but I’m hard as a rock, sweetheart.”

  It takes me a second to understand he’s talking about his erection, but once I do, I reach out for it under the water. “Yes. You are.”

  “Ahhhh.” His eyes close, and his hands land on the rim of the tub behind me, bracketing me between his outstretched arms.

  I don’t know a lot about giving a man pleasure, but I know that when he rubs my clitoris, it feels amazing, so using that same logic, I rub him up and down, varying the speed and pressure of my grip until he’s panting faster and faster.

  “Faye, I’m going to...I’m going to...” He releases a strangled cry, and his body tenses like crazy for a second before he relaxes, his head rolling back as he takes a deep breath and sighs with satisfaction.

  The motion of the hot tub sweeps away any evidence of his climax, as he sits down next to me, giving me a dazed, contented grin. “That’s been building up for a while.”

  “Oh! Oh no! I’m sorry.”

  It should have occurred to me that he was suffering. He did, after all, place the ad to meet a woman for sex.

  “Faye,” he says, reaching for my face and making me look at him. “I’d wait a million years for you. Don’t be sorry.”

  “But the ad...you wanted...”

  “That ad,” he scoffs. “I had no idea what I really wanted. I was lonely, and I thought having sex would help, but I was a fool.”

  “Having sex won’t help?”

  He smiles at me, caressing my cheek with the back of his hand before leaning forward to kiss me tenderly. “Having sex will be amazing. With you. When you’re ready.”

  And at that moment? That crazy sexy moment?

  I yawn.

  I freaking yawn.

  “I’m...oh no. I’m not tired.”

  He smiles at me. “Yes, sweetheart, you are. You’re exhausted. How about I carry you up to bed, and we resume this another time?”

  “No,” I insist. “I’m good. I’m—”

  And fuck me, but I yawn! Again.

  “Time for bed,” says Trevor, standing up and stepping out of the tub. There’s a neat stack of towels sitting on a teak stool, and he takes one, wrapping it around his waist. “Can you stand up?”

  Reluctantly, and feeling a little disappointed in my lack of physical stamina, I stand on my good leg and let Trevor lift me out of the tub. He places my naked body on the chair where I got undressed and turns around to grab another towel.

  “Up again,” he commands gently. “Arms up.”

  He wraps me up like a burrito, then dips his head to kiss me. “I swear to God, Faye, I don’t mind the wait.”

  “But I do,” I tell him, openly pouting. “I want you, T. I’m ready.”

  “You’re exhausted,” he whispers, still holding my face between his hands. He nuzzles m
y nose with his. “We have plenty of time.”

  I let him sweep me into his arms, and by the time we reach his bedroom, I’m nodding off. He places me on my side of the bed, covering me with his soft flannel sheets and warm duvet.

  “Go to sleep. I’ll bring up your boot in a bit and get it back on your foot.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur, nestling into the pillow, “my love.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says, kissing my forehead as I quickly fall asleep.

  ***

  When I wake up the next morning, the first thing I realize is that I’m naked under the covers.

  The towel from last night came undone and is now flattened beneath me.

  I also realize, from the heat radiating into my hip, that Trevor is naked too, but his towel is bunched between our legs. I shove at it with my good foot until it’s not between us anymore, then peek at my boyfriend, who’s lying on his back and still fast asleep.

  Sliding my phone from the bedside table, I check for messages and find one from Harry.

  HARRIET: We drank 2 much wassail. Barb insisted we stay overnight. Baz & I are in T’s old room. I’m on the top bunk & he’s on the bottom. It was such a fun party! I’m going to stay for brunch tomorrow, so I’ll see you sometime in the afternoon. Love u!

  I put my phone back on the table and maneuver myself onto the office chair that Trevor kindly left beside the bed. After I take a moment to pee, wash my face, and brush my teeth, I roll back to bed, stark naked, to find Trevor’s eyes open. He’s on his side, leaning up on one elbow, wearing nothing but a grin.

  “Good morning,” he says.

  For no good reason—or maybe, it occurs to me, with a suddenly and growing anticipation, for a very good reason—I feel a little shy. “Hi.”

  Trevor pats my empty spot on the bed. “Come back.”

  “We’re naked.”

  He nods. “Yes, we are.”

  “This is it, isn’t it?” I say. “We’re going to...”

  “If you want to,” he says, his beautiful eyes soft and sexy.

  “I do,” I say. But I don’t move. “Is it okay that I’m a little scared?”

  “Faye, if you’re not ready—”

  “I am ready,” I tell him, backing the chair up to the bed, pushing off from the ground with my good foot, and transferring my body onto the mattress. I look at him over my bare shoulder. “I’m ready...and I want you...in every way...but I can still be a little scared, Trevor.”

  He leans up, reaching under my arms to pull me back, closer to him. I twist at the waist and lie down on my back, turning my head to look at him. He reaches for my face with his hand, cupping my cheek, and I roll to my side, facing him.

  “You don’t need to be scared.”

  But even with several inches of space between us, I can feel the tip of his erect penis pressing into my stomach. It’s long, hard and hot against my skin, and it makes me tingle with want, even as I hold my breath, wondering how my much smaller body will accommodate the girth and length of his.

  “It might hurt,” I whisper.

  He tries not to smile.

  “For a moment, and then never again,” he says.

  “Promise?”

  “I promise, sweetheart.”

  I want this. I want him. So much.

  I take a deep breath and nod. “Kiss me.”

  Laying his hand on my waist, he pulls me closer, so that the front of my body is flush with the front of his. My breasts are crushed against his pecs, and the points of my nipples are tickled by the hair on his chest. The base of his erection presses hot and insistent against the folds that cover my pulsating clit, while his length strains against the soft skin of my belly.

  “Okay?” he asks, looking into my eyes, his smile reassuring.

  “Mm-hm,” I hum, nodding at him. I’m nervous. I’m also trusting him with every fiber of my being. “Okay.”

  Once he’s given me a second or two to get used to our naked bodies touching so intimately, he leans forward and touches his lips to mine. Gently. Tentatively. But it’s all I need to feel back in control of what’s happening between us, because I know this. Kissing him is familiar to me now. I reach for him, rolling onto my back and encouraging him to come with me. He slides his tongue between my lips, careful not to hit my boot with his legs as he settles on top of me. Stealing my breath as he deepens our kiss, I can feel my body tuning up, like an orchestra about to play a concerto.

  He kisses my neck, taking my earlobe between his teeth and biting it gently as I squeal with delight, then demand his lips back again. All the while, his erection presses against me, hot and hard, before slipping into the slick channel that hides my clit. When the ridges of muscle massage my rigid bud of nerves, I moan into Trevor’s mouth.

  “Oh, my God...”

  He leans up to look into my eyes, which are half-masted with pleasure.

  “Good?” he asks me, his voice raspy with emotion.

  “So good,” I tell him, pulling him back down to kiss me while his hips continue to surge forward, rubbing against me until I’m whimpering and moaning, my breath coming in shallow pants as he moves faster and faster, bracing his body by planting his hands on either side of my head, his pelvis surging forward then pulling back, my clit on the verge of explosion.

  “Trevor...Trev ...T...” I pant, feeling myself coming apart, about to come.

  “I want to be inside of you,” he says, his voice straining and rough.

  “Yes,” I say. “I want that...too...”

  He pauses. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m...on the pill,” I tell him.

  “I know,” he tells me, because Mr. Fairbanks insisted.

  My clit still hums and vibrates, but it’s greedy too—I want satisfaction. I want to feel him—all of him—inside of me. And I want us to orgasm together.

  “I’m ready,” I tell him. “I want this, I want you.”

  He reaches down, positioning the tip of his erection at the opening of my sex.

  “Don’t tense,” he says, leaning down to kiss me tenderly. “It’ll be better if you don’t.”

  I take a deep breath, hyperaware of my body as he slowly moves forward. It’s so strange and surreal, after so long, to be having sex for the first time in my life, but at the same time, I absorb every movement, every panted breath, every hesitation and advance. We are in this together, and I have never felt more cherished in my entire life.

  He winces, and I realize that he’s likely come upon my virgin barrier.

  “It’ll only hurt for a second,” he says.

  I nod. “Then never again.”

  “Then never, ever again,” he promises, leaning down to kiss me, distracting me as he thrusts forward, making me totally and completely his.

  Do I feel a pinch as he pushes through? I do.

  Does it pass quickly? Thank the gods of sex, it does.

  For a few seconds, he is completely still, and how he manages that after not having had sex in months, I don’t know. But he leans up from our kiss and looks down at my face, holding himself frozen.

  “Are you,” he pants, a sheen of sweat beading on his forehead, “okay?”

  “Yeah,” I murmur, my voice breathless but also a little excited. I did it. We did it! The deed is done! The weight of my virginity rolls off my shoulders, and I wiggle my hips a little, wanting to learn more, try everything I’ve only read or dreamt about. “I am.”

  At some point, I had fisted the sheet by my hips in a tight grip, but now I unfurl my fingers, skimming them over the smooth, warm planes of his back, loving the feeling of his body on top of mine, embedded within mine.

  “Sure?” he asks, grinning at me with wonder.

  “Yeah. It doesn’t hurt,” I say. “It’s...good.” I giggle softly. “I want more, T.”

  He leans down to brush his lips against my cheek, his nose nuzzling mine, as he pulls his hips back, then lets them surge forward again.

  This time, I feel the full measure of h
is length, the way his sex fill me, and how my inner walls grasp onto him. I flex my muscles, and he groans.

  “You like that?” I ask, reveling in this new information.

  “I...like that...sweetheart,” he half-murmurs, half-grunts, his eyes closed. I do it again—tighten, then release—watching him grimace with pleasure, before opening his eyes. “Faye...it’s been a long time...for me.”

  His voice is strangled, and I realize that while I’m experimenting with him, he’s just holding on.

  “Let go, my love,” I tell him, reaching up to place my hands on his cheeks and drawing his lips down to mine. “Make love to me.”

  Kissing me with abandon, he thrusts into me in a more steady rhythm, slowly at first, then faster and faster, and I thank God for the preparation of kissing and touching before penetration, because I am wet and slick, taking his surges forward with pleasure, not pain.

  He reaches for my good leg, pulling it up so that I am opened wider to him, and with his other hand he holds my head, still kissing me, his tongue swirling around mine before he pants into my neck, his breath coming in short bursts as his thrusts become rhythmic and fast. His hips buck forward again and again, and I am lost in a vortex of his movements. I exist for his pleasure...and for mine, which builds and builds within me.

  Releasing my thigh, he wedges his hand between our bodies, his finger sliding with precision to land on my glistening clit, which he circles and strokes. I thrash my head back into the pillow, arching my back, my hips bucking off the bed as I orgasm.

  Not a moment later, his forehead falls against my neck as he cries out my name, his body freezing, then trembling and shaking over mine. I feel his release deep within me, the hot spurts of his seed inside of me, and I welcome them, holding him close as he pants by my ear, and shudders with aftershocks.

  Sighing deeply, he rocks gently into me. Slowly. Softly. Tenderly.

  When I feel wetness on my cheeks, I realize with some surprise that I’m crying, and when I take a deep breath, it’s ragged and uneven. I don’t know what’s brought on tears, but I can only imagine it’s because in my entire adult life, I’ve never felt as precious to another human being as I do to Trevor right this minute, and it’s...overwhelming. In a good way. But still.