She allowed herself only a moment to relish in the aftermath and the satisfied smirk on his face, before sliding down his body and taking his straining shaft into her mouth. She tasted herself there and it was one of the most intimate realizations in the world to know it would be like this with him all the time now. Nothing between them, but their desire and passion for one another.
“Jesus Christ,” he growled, his hands twisting in her hair, pulling, demanding.
God, she loved this man. Loved his cock, too, so much so that she couldn’t resist stretching her mouth wide and taking him all the way to the back of her throat. She loved that he filled her with plenty to spare and when she pulled away, sucking against every retreating inch, she felt him pulse and swell even larger between her lips.
The tension in his body told her he was almost there as her tongue laved at the smooth spot beneath the thick, velvety head, making him surge upward, deeper into her mouth. She wanted him to come on her tongue again. Wanted to know that she drove him so freaking mad he couldn’t control himself.
And he gave her just that a mere two thrusts later.
“Christ, woman,” he groaned, grabbing her beneath her arms and hauling her up his body. She broke out into giggles when he squeezed her ass and let out a residual shudder. “Why are you so damn insistent on sending me to an early grave?”
“Oh, please.” She pushed up and straddled him, her fingers trailing down his chest, as she did. “You love it and you know it.”
“Damn right, I do.” He jackknifed up, the muscles in his stomach flexing. The rough slide of his hands up her back and onto her shoulders elicited goose bumps over her skin and her heart sighed a little at the happy, contented gleam in his eyes. “Thank you for that. And for last night.”
“My pleasure. Literally.” She grinned and so did he. “It’s going to be a long weekend, so hopefully it’ll tide you over.” The soft slide of his hair through her fingers had her dreading the next couple days and not being able to touch him.
“Let’s see how things go. We might be able to work something out.”
“Another sleepover?”
“Possibly.”
“Have I ever told you how fabulous your ideas are?”
“A time or two.”
“Mmm.” She leaned in to kiss his forehead and then his temple. “I’m going to cross my fingers that things go well, because I really, really liked sleeping with you.”
“You’ve been sleeping with me, babe.”
She shoved at his chest. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” He grinned and pressed his lips to the center of her chest. “I make a mean omelet, you know?”
“You’re inviting me to stick around a little longer? This is getting kinda serious, hot shot,” she said, playfully garnering her courage and testing him a bit. She’d come to some pretty hefty conclusions in the last twenty-four hours and they’d be easier to accept if she knew she wasn’t standing alone in the middle of the field, all in, while he stood on the edge, reluctant or, God forbid, not interested at all in what she had in mind.
He inhaled and nodded slowly. “Yeah. It is.”
“You okay with that?”
“There’s no one else I’d rather make an omelet for.”
She quirked a crooked smile. It wasn’t a declaration of undying love, but she’d take it. “In that case, let’s hop in the shower before you get your chef on.”
***
Fletcher had been his closest friend for almost a quarter century. In those terms, hell, in any terms, it was a long-ass time. And that was going to make coming clean about his relationship with Carissa that much harder.
He didn’t have a plan in place for the inevitable discussion, but he knew it needed to happen sooner than later, given the uncertainty of the vandalism and whether or not there’d be another incident. The security system at the flip had been installed and Carissa was going over how to work it with the service tech this afternoon. He would have preferred to show her himself, but with the Fourth of July weekend underway, they had to lay low and put some space between them. But as soon as he’d laid it all out there with Fletcher, he didn’t plan on letting her leave his sight. It was the best way he knew to keep her safe.
He pulled into the lot behind River Bend High School and parked between Tony’s truck and Fletcher’s car. Both men, as well as Dan, were already on the football field, tossing the ball around.
“What the hell, dude? You yank one off before you left, or what?” Tony jogged over and jabbed him in the shoulder when he stepped onto the grass and began to stretch out, pulling each of his cleats up behind him, one at a time.
“You know I don’t have to do that,” he muttered as he pulled his foot toward his hip, which wasn’t as easy to do as it had been even a couple years ago.
Tony chuckled and passed him the ball for a couple tosses before Dan and Fletcher made their way over to get the game started.
“You’re late,” Fletcher complained. “Busy starting another fire?”
“Fucker.” Josh drilled the ball into the man’s chest, making him wince.
His brother and Tony laughed, but Fletcher didn’t crack a smile. “You’re gonna regret that, you little punk.”
“Who you calling little?” Arms stretched wide, Josh came at his friend, playfully bumping his chest with his own and getting the smack talk underway. Fletcher might’ve had a couple inches on him, but he had the upper hand in mass and strength and his friend knew it. “You’ll be running from my tackles in no time, princess.”
“Bring it, bitch,” the other man said, giving him an impressive shove backward that made even Tony and Dan hiss in surprise.
He arched an eyebrow. “Feeling tough today, are we? We’ll see about that.”
An hour later, Josh was the one eating his words.
“What would your Marine buddies think of you now, punk?”
Laid out on the twenty-yard line, he groaned at the stabbing pain in his rib cage and squinted up against the afternoon sunshine. The only thing he could make out clearly was the smirk of the sledge hammer that loomed above him. “Why couldn’t you tackle like that in high school?”
Fletcher barked with laughter and offered a hand. “Oh, I could. But the scouts were more interested in my running game than my defense. You know that.”
Smug asshole. Begrudged, but in no position to deny the help, Josh accepted the gesture and stretched, cracking his back, as he stood. “Goddamn, I don’t remember that hurting so much.”
“You’re just getting old, dude. Remind me to take it easy on you next time.” Fletcher clapped him on the back and they both started toward the sidelines where Dan and Tony gulped down bottles of water, calling the game. Thank Christ. He’d suffered all the beating he cared for today. Didn’t stop him from prodding an elbow into his friend’s ribs for the smartass comment.
Fletcher gave him a lighthearted shoulder check. “Crazy, isn’t it? How time has flown? Remember how we used to hit the lake on the Fourth, thinking we were the shit? Pulling along coolers filled with beer we weren’t old enough to drink and skipping across the water on jet-skis like we owned the place? Trying to score with anything in a bikini?”
Hard to forget those free-spirited years. Even harder to forget how close he and Fletcher had been. How years, pride, and a woman began to change that once invincible friendship. Only Fletcher was completely naïve to it all and Josh knew the fault was all his own. Soon, he told himself, he’ll know soon enough.
“And now we just chill on the boat, hollering at the punks who make waves in the no-wake zone,” he muttered. He wasn’t proud of the fact that he’d been lying to his best friend, but he wasn’t looking forward to owning up to the truth either. At one time, he’d thought his decision to keep his history with Carissa quiet had been to protect Carissa and also Fletcher. But over the past few days it became clear that he’d done it to protect what was the most amazing connection he’d ever had with another human being. He r
eally didn’t want to share that with anyone but her.
“We should take the jets out this weekend,” Fletcher spoke up. “For old time’s sake. Break out the swagger.”
Josh snorted. “What would Heather think of that?”
“Who cares? I’m not seeing her anymore.”
“What? You’re telling me you worked that hard for a few weeks of tail?”
His friend lifted an idle shoulder. “She’s a nice girl, but I’m not looking to go down that road. At least not with her.”
“That road being?” Josh stopped several yards short of his brother and Tony and turned toward Fletcher, his curiosity piqued.
“You know what road. Me and Heather long term? No way.”
“Why not?”
“She’s a friggin’ bartender,” Fletcher muttered, giving the ball a toss into the air.
“So?” He spread his hands wide. “What does that have to do with anything? You like her, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but, come on, man, she’s not Carissa. Not by a long shot.”
Josh’s arms fell to his sides like they weighed a thousand pounds. He cocked his head to the side and pinned his friend with a disbelieving glare. “What?”
“You heard me.” Fletcher lifted his chin a little too confidently for Josh’s liking. “Seeing her so much lately? It’s got me thinking I should have tried a little harder with her.”
Josh clenched his hands into hard fists, trying desperately to keep his temper in check. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I think I might test the waters again. See if she’s feeling it, too. I know she turned me down the other day, but that’s just because she doesn’t realize it would be different this time.”
There shouldn’t have been a last time—there definitely wouldn’t be a this time. Still… “How would it be different?” he asked, damn near choking on his own tongue just forming the words and momentarily playing along.
His friend hesitated. “We were more…friends with benefits before. Neither of us wanted anything serious. This time, I think I could offer her something more genuine. You know, with feelings and shit.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” It was all he could do not to throw a punch. Friends with benefits? All that time it hadn’t been real? And now, now, Fletcher wanted the real deal? With the woman he wanted something real with too? Un-friggin’-believable.
“Nope.” Fletcher laughed, clearly pleased with his decision. “Come on, bro. You’ve gotta admit we’re a good match.”
“The fuck you are.”
Fletcher’s brows hit his hairline and Josh had to force himself to take a step backward, needing space between them.
“What the hell is your problem?” Fletcher demanded. “What do you have against me and Carissa?”
“Two seconds ago, you were talking about being twenty again. Now you’re saying you want her back. Sounds to me like you don’t know what the hell you want.”
“Maybe I don’t.” Fletcher lifted a shoulder and tucked the ball into his side. “But I do know there’s something special about Carissa. And the sex was pretty damn—”
“Don’t friggin’ say it,” Josh snarled. He opened his mouth again, ready to unload and mark his territory when it hit him—he was ready to kick Fletcher’s ass for entertaining the possibility of doing with Carissa something very similar to what he was doing himself. Messing around with her, using her to get off whenever he wanted, but offering her nothing close to what she deserved. Yeah, he wanted to give her something more, but that wasn’t really possible, was it? It would never work out, no matter how good it felt, because there was too much history, too much baggage between them. And he’d known it all along. Yet he kept sleeping with her. Kept leading them both on.
Fuck! How had he missed that? How had he been so stupid?
They would never be able to have anything more than what they had now, which, much as he hated to acknowledge it, wasn’t anything better than what Fletcher wanted to give her.
The back of his tongue began to itch and his stomach began to churn.
He was no better than the man whose ass he wanted to go completely postal on right now. It didn’t matter that he cared about Carissa, because regardless of how he felt, no one would ever be able to see past what they’d done or how he’d treated her. And Carissa might think she was okay with it now, but someday she’d realize she deserved better. That she deserved a man who gave her everything she was worthy of from the beginning. And when she realized he wasn’t that guy, it’d be over.
“What were you gonna say, Hudson?” Fletcher asked, an arrogant lilt to his voice.
His temper a hairsbreadth away from bursting, Josh pulled in a deep, controlled breath. “Friends with benefits? She deserves a hell of a lot better than that.”
“We both knew the score. And I never once disrespected her.”
Josh stuck his tongue in his cheek. “But do you love her?”
“I care about her,” Fletcher countered and Josh shook his head, his frustration building.
“Not good enough,” he snarled. “That girl has been through hell and back since her mom died. She deserves a million times better than your selfish half-measures.”
Fletcher grunted. "When did you become such a goddamn expert on what she needs, huh? You're her contractor, bro, not her shrink.”
“I was her friend before I was her contractor,” Josh growled. “And whether you like it or not, I care about her too. You and I may go back to kindergarten, but I’ll be damned if I'm gonna stand around and watch you use her because she meets your social criteria or because she's the perfect trophy for your friggin’ collection.”
“Obviously you didn’t hear what I said. I know she deserves better and, this time, she’ll have it.”
Josh pulsed his jaw. After last night, he was fairly sure he didn’t have to worry about Carissa even considering round two with Fletcher, but he was done stepping back so his friend could share in her limelight. He took a step forward until he and Fletcher were almost chest to chest. With a sniff, he looked his oldest friend in the eye and spoke as clearly and as unmistakably as he could. “Leave her alone.”
Fletcher narrowed his eyes. “You threatening me?” He gave a wry grunt. “In fact, you sure there isn’t something else you wanna say, Hudson? I mean, this is the second time this week you’ve stuck your nose in my business with Carissa. Makes a guy wonder…”
Josh swallowed hard. What would be the point in telling the truth now? It didn’t matter anymore. And, if things between him and Carissa were destined to end, he at least wanted to keep the memories he had of her sacred.
With that, he shook his head and retreated. “She deserves the best, man. You know it just as well as I do. Don’t cheat her out of the opportunity to find someone who can give her that.”
He turned and began to walk away, completely numb and in shock of how his world had turned completely upside down since this morning.
The slap of the football between his kidneys stopped him short, but he barely acknowledged the sting.
“Any ideas who that someone might be?” Fletcher asked arrogantly. “Because right fucking now would be the time to tell me, you know what I’m saying?”
Back still to his friend, Josh closed his eyes and cursed his stupidity. “Nope,” he said honestly. “Not a clue.” And he didn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maddie was right—she did look different.
Carissa blinked at the reflection in her rearview mirror and bit her lips together to keep her perpetual smile at bay. It had been there since she’d left Josh’s this morning, so much so that her cheeks hurt.
Pulling in a deep breath and carefully blowing it out again, she willed herself to keep collected. Tonight was going to be a true test of strength and, unless she wanted things with Josh to end—which she absolutely did not—she needed to keep it together.
She also needed to come up with a plan. A tactful way to approach a much needed di
scussion with him. Because something had changed with them. A big something. They weren’t just sleeping together anymore and she was pretty sure last night, and then this morning, had solidified that for him as well. The question was…what the heck were they going to do about it?
She climbed out of her car, locked it, and smoothed her hands down the front and back of her dress as she made her way across the beaten down field turned parking lot. The place was packed and, stopping here and there to make idle chit chat with a handful of her Cameron High coworkers, she finally made her way into crush of street dance goers just as the country and classic rock cover band began to play on the makeshift stage. And, of course, it wouldn’t be a party in downtown River Bend without a Sweet Home Alabama kick-off.
Smiling to herself, she scanned the crowd until she spotted Maddie perched on a stack of hay bales, swaying to the music. Her friend had a bottle of beer in each hand and her rhythm left something to be desired.
“I’d offer you one, but I’ve already licked them both,” Maddie said by way of greeting when Carissa approached. Clearly, the bride- to-be was already halfway to a good time.
“You’re such a cheap date,” Carissa laughed.
“I know. You should give it a try. Dan’s in line for a refill. I bet he’ll let you cut in if you promise him a dance.”
A drink sounded amazing and since she was hoping for another sleepover with Josh tonight, she could probably forego her usual limit without having to worry about the driving too far. “I think I’ll do that. Save me a seat on that hay bale.”
Maddie winked and Carissa went in search of Dan. She found him ten people back in line from the bar, tapping an empty bottle against his leg as music blasted from a speaker mounted on top of McCauley’s temporary bar space.
“Look at you, all itchin’ to shake it,” she teased, coming up along Dan’s side. “You gonna make a spectacle of yourself tonight, Mr. D.A.?”
Dan grunted. “Maddie’s well on her way to that honor.”
Carissa laughed. “I noticed. Mind if I sneak into line?”
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