by Emily Forbes
He wondered if that was even possible for him. Could he be that man? What would Kitty think? Could he risk finding out? Should he take a chance?
But before he had time to answer his own question, Kitty had moved away from him.
‘Ouch! The baby just kicked my bladder,’ she said as she pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed. Cool morning air rushed under the sheets. Kitty had taken her warmth, and his chance, with her, leaving him with a missed opportunity and an ache in his groin.
She disappeared into the bathroom without a backward glance and he wondered if the baby was really causing problems or if Kitty had just needed an excuse to get out of bed.
* * *
Kitty wished she’d been brave enough to take a chance. To roll over when she’d wanted to, before the baby’s mistimed kick had connected with her bladder and given her no choice but to get out of bed.
Perhaps it was just as well, she thought as she closed the bathroom door. She didn’t think she could stand being rejected again. She felt as though she’d only just recovered her equilibrium after their almost-kiss.
She needed time to cool down, to collect her thoughts. She turned on the taps in the shower and stepped under the spray. She imagined she could still feel the imprint of Joe’s arm around her, of his hand resting on her belly, before the water washed it away.
She ran her soapy hands over her breasts, imagining how it would feel to have Joe touch her. To have Joe’s fingers on her breast, his tongue on her nipple...
God, she was aroused. Her hormones were driving her crazy.
She breathed out, battling to get herself under control. Her imagination wasn’t helping.
Perhaps she’d have to rethink her offer to stay and help him. She’d been mad to think she could handle it. But there was no getting out of it this morning. She’d have to manage for at least one day. She needed to get herself together and work out how to control her impulses before they got her into trouble.
She rested her hands on the cool tiles on the wall and let the water run down between her shoulder blades while she forced her mind to go blank.
She stepped out of the shower, dried herself and pulled her T-shirt back over her head. She had nothing else to put on and didn’t think it was wise to come out of the bathroom wrapped only in a towel. She stepped into her underwear. Her clothing wasn’t much of a defence against her rampaging desire, but it was all she had.
Joe hadn’t moved. He was still lying in bed when she returned from the bathroom. His chest was bare, tanned and smooth. Her pulse quickened and heat flushed her cheeks.
Her gaze flicked down before she could stop herself, following the line of his sternum, down the centre of his abdominals before it stopped at the bed sheet that was pulled up to his hips. She still didn’t know if he was naked under the sheet. Surely he couldn’t be. He wouldn’t have come to bed wearing nothing. More’s the pity.
But wondering about Joe’s state of undress was not the way to get herself under control. She needed something to keep her mind occupied.
‘Do you want to shower?’ she asked quickly. ‘I’ll waterproof your arm for you if you like.’
‘Sounds good,’ he said as he rolled out of bed. His abdominal muscles rippled as he lifted his head, and Kitty held her breath as the sheet fell away and he swung his legs out of bed to stand up.
Kitty’s eyes dropped lower. She couldn’t help herself.
He was wearing boxer shorts.
Her disappointment was abated a little by the impressive bulge in his shorts.
She swallowed uncertainly and took a step back. Not that she was standing too close, but it was instinctive to try to put some space between them. Some physical distance. His semi-nakedness was making her nervous. She wasn’t sure exactly how she was going to keep her hormones in check and fight the attraction if they were going to be in such close proximity for the next few weeks.
She got busy fetching a plastic bag and tape to protect the splint on his arm from the shower spray. She really should be protecting herself. She couldn’t afford to cross the line. Joe’s friendship was far too important.
She sat next to him on the bed. So much for keeping her distance—she could feel the heat radiating off him, and she could smell the sleepiness of his body. It was a warm, familiar scent.
His bare knees brushed against hers as she turned to him and pulled the plastic bag over his splint. They’d sat like this plenty of times before, but never in a bedroom. It had never felt this intimate before. She covered his arm carefully, her fingers light on his skin as if she was afraid to touch him, afraid of what that might lead to, and secured it with the tape.
‘Can you manage everything else?’ she asked, hoping he would say no but half-wishing he’d say yes. Wishing he’d make the first move, take the first step and take the decision away from her. If he made a move she knew she wouldn’t resist. She wouldn’t have the willpower.
‘I can.’ He was watching her carefully, his blue eyes dark, making her breath catch in her throat. Was that sleep or desire turning his eyes indigo?
She knew she should get dressed while Joe was in the shower but she couldn’t seem to make her legs move. They were heavy and uncooperative, so she stayed sitting on the bed.
‘Kitty? Can you give me a hand?’ She heard the shower stop running and heard him call to her.
She went into the bathroom.
Joe had managed to remove the plastic bag that had protected the splint from his arm and was now, very definitely, completely naked. Kitty could feel her blood pounding in her veins. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to find, but she hadn’t prepared herself for this. She felt like she knew him so well yet she’d never seen him completely naked before.
Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately—she wasn’t certain yet—he had his back to her. His shoulders were broad and tanned and she could see the outline of his trapezius muscles above his shoulder blades and the ridge of muscle running down either side of his spine. She wanted desperately to run her fingers along his spine, to trace the length of his body, but she had to be content to savour him with her eyes instead. Her gaze trailed down to the cleft between his buttocks. His backside was firm, muscular, nicely rounded. Two perfect globes, slightly paler than the rest of his skin but not much. His buttocks looked smooth and cool, like marble, and her fingers itched to run over his skin, to feel it under her palm.
He was holding a towel in his left hand, obviously unable to wrap it around himself with only one hand. She reached for the towel, resisting the urge to reach for him, and took it from his fingers. From behind she reached around him, wrapping the towel around his waist and tucking one end into the other over his left hip. It seemed such a pity to cover up the view. But then he turned around. Now she was face to face with his naked chest. This she’d seen before, many times, but somehow today it seemed far more intimidating.
She’d rested her head against that same chest on plenty of occasions. She couldn’t count the number of times he’d hugged her, but she couldn’t recall him ever hugging her shirtless. She didn’t think she’d ever been this close to his bare chest before and she was copping an eyeful—a very attractive eyeful. His chest was still damp and little droplets of moisture glistened on his skin and caught in the fine hair that ran down between the ridge of his abdominals.
The air around them felt positively charged, making it difficult to breathe. Maybe it was just the steaminess of the bathroom. The hot, humid air was heavy and it was an effort to breathe it in. She was feeling a little light-headed. She needed to get him dry and dressed and get out of there.
She stepped back and her eyes dropped lower, down to where the trail of hair disappeared beneath the towel. Her eyes caught on the waterproof dressing above his right hip. The dressing that covered the knife wound. The wound he’d got protecting her. She wondered if he thought it was worth it.
She lifted her eyes and met his gaze. His blue eyes were dark, his gaze unwavering.
‘Would what?’ she asked.
‘I would do it again. To protect you.’ His voice was deep, quiet, intense and honest, and his words sent a shiver of anticipation and excitement through her.
She dropped her gaze again, needing to break the spell, and reached out and traced the edges of the dressing with her fingers. His skin was warm. That surprised her. She’d expected it to be cool by now. The warmth of his skin made her fingers feel icy in contrast, and she could see little goose-bumps rising on his stomach, heard him catch his breath.
‘Sorry, are my hands cold?’
‘No.’ His voice was husky now and his eyes an even more intense blue.
Her hand stilled as she looked up at him. Everything about him looked hard and intense—his body, his gaze, his intentions, his need, his desire—and Kitty’s heart pounded in her chest. Her breath caught again in her throat.
She didn’t know what she should do. Should she reach for him? Tell him how she was feeling? She was so unsure, and her uncertainty made her take a step back just as he stepped forward.
He reached for her. She felt his fingers under her chin and now it was her skin that tingled and broke out in tiny goose-bumps.
He whispered her name as he tipped her head up and Kitty closed her eyes, waiting for the kiss she knew was coming this time.
His lips met hers, warm and soft, but his intentions were clear, spelt out in his touch as he pressed his lips against hers. Kitty opened her mouth, desperate to taste him, to feel him, to experience him. She breathed out a sigh as he wrapped his left arm around her, holding her to him. Her hands wound around the back of his neck. His hair was damp—she probably needed to get him dry, but she had other things on her mind.
She could feel his erection, separated from her only by the towel and her underwear. He was hard and long and now all she could think about was how he would feel inside her. She could feel the dampness between her thighs as she imagined him thrusting into her. Uniting them in a way they’d never shared before. Her knees wobbled and she clung to him. In another moment there would be no turning back.
That was good—she didn’t want to turn back—but he was injured and she didn’t want to be the one responsible for pulling his stitches out, opening his wounds.
‘Careful,’ she whispered. ‘You’re injured, remember?’
His left hand moved further down her back, cupping her bottom, pulling her hips in hard against him. ‘I’m fine,’ he replied.
She ran one hand down his chest. She had to agree, he felt pretty fine. His chest was dry now—the water had soaked into her T-shirt, making it cling to her skin. Now that her clothes were damp and she wasn’t pressed against his chest, soaking up his warmth, she felt cool. Her nipples jutted against the shirt and as she saw Joe run his gaze over her breasts she felt her nipples tighten in response.
She watched his chest rise as he inhaled. He moved his left arm, bringing his hand to her chest and running his thumb over one nipple, caressing it through the fabric.
Kitty thought she might melt on the spot as a burst of heat raced through her, flaring from her breasts to her groin.
‘Oh, God, Joe,’ she said as she clung to him, and she could hear the desire and need in her voice.
‘Are you sure about this?’
‘I’ve never been surer about anything,’ she said, as she took his hand and led him out of the bathroom.
He caught her at the edge of the bed and turned her to face him. He pulled the towel from his hips and stood in front of her gloriously, superbly naked. Kitty feasted her eyes on him. She took in his broad shoulders, the dark circles of his nipples, the line of dark hair running down from his navel, leading her eyes down to where his erection jutted proudly out from his hips.
He ran his hand around the back of her neck, spanning her spine with his fingers, holding her still as he kissed her neck. Kitty tipped her head back, exposing the soft, tender, sensitive skin of her throat.
He lifted the hem of her T-shirt, keeping her close, before trying to tug the shirt up and off, but it was an impossible task with only one hand. Kitty crossed her arms and whipped the shirt over her head.
‘You are beautiful,’ he murmured before he bent his head and took one breast in his mouth. Kitty thought she might explode as he sucked her nipple. He ran his hand over her swollen belly and down between her thighs, seeking her warmth, sliding into her wetness.
Joe went to sit down on the edge of the bed and Kitty moved with him, stepping out of her underwear as she did. She stood with her legs apart, straddling his knees, desperate to maintain contact, and granted him access to her innermost secrets.
Her legs buckled as his mouth suckled at her breast again while he reached between her legs, his thumb moving in a tight circle. She rested her hands on his shoulders, supporting her weight. Her legs certainly weren’t capable of holding her up as he worked his magic with his fingers. If he could reduce her to a quivering mess with his left hand, what would he be able to do once his right hand was fully functioning again?
She closed her eyes as stars burst behind her eyelids and sparks shot through her groin. She was panting now, unable to take deep breaths as her body was focussed on other sensations. She was close to a climax, she could feel it building, taking control, but she didn’t want it like this.
She opened her eyes. ‘Wait.’
‘What’s wrong?’ His hand stilled and she could see in his eyes that he was expecting her to call it quits. There was no way she was doing that—she didn’t think she could stop now even if she wanted to.
‘Nothing,’ she said, ‘but I want to feel you inside me.’
He smiled, relief and desire reflected in his eyes now. ‘You’ll have to go on top.’
She had no problem with that. In reply she pushed him gently backwards until he was lying on the bed.
‘There are condoms in the drawer,’ he told her.
She was about to remind him that she was pregnant and that she didn’t need protection but then she thought about all the other reasons to practise safe sex. She supposed she should be grateful that he was being responsible, but she didn’t want to think about why he had condoms in his bedside drawer. She didn’t want to think about all the other women he might have slept with in this bed. It was her turn now and she didn’t want to waste a second thinking about anything other than Joe and the pleasure they were about to share.
She reached into the drawer and removed one little packet. She knelt over him and wrapped her hand firmly around his shaft. She slid her hand up and down his length and felt him throb beneath her fingers, felt him tremor under her touch. She watched as he closed his eyes and relaxed on the bed, breathing in and out, slow and deep.
‘Kitty, please,’ he begged, his voice ragged and breathless.
Her hand slowed but she maintained contact as she tore open the packet with her teeth and sheathed his erection. It was, she imagined, another impossible task to accomplish one-handed. His eyes were open now and he watched her as she lifted herself onto her knees and slowly lowered herself down onto him. She took her time, savouring the moment when they were finally, blissfully joined together.
She placed her hands on either side of his head, supporting her weight as she bent over him. He lifted his head and took her breast into his mouth as she rode him. Their hips moved in perfect harmony, his thrusts keeping time to her rhythm, as if they’d done this dance a hundred times before. His fingers were between her legs, circling the swollen nub that nestled there. Kitty arched her back and spread her legs wider, taking him deeper, wanting all of him, every last piece as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her.
‘Now, Joe, now!’
She felt him join her in pleasure and then release, their years of friendship
shifting and changing and culminating into something far more powerful, far more thrilling than anything she had experienced before.
She lay beside him, utterly spent, resting her head on his chest, and listened to his breathing as she lay cocooned in his arms. She felt completely relaxed and content, and the feeling surprised her. She had thought there might be some awkwardness but instead she felt like she belonged there. It was a strange but wonderful sensation.
CHAPTER SEVEN
KITTY EMBRACED JESS as she opened the door. She felt thin, but Kitty didn’t think anything of it. Jess had always been slim, especially since the chemo, and now her slightness felt even more apparent when contrasted with Kitty’s changing shape as she went further into her third trimester of the pregnancy.
‘How are you feeling?’ Jess asked.
‘Exhausted,’ Kitty replied as she followed Jess into the house.
‘You should have called. You could have come over later.’
She realised Jess thought her tiredness was due to the concussion. Should she tell her it was because she’d spent the better part of the last two hours in bed with Joe, exercising muscles she almost hadn’t remembered having?
‘No, no, it’s fine. I wanted to see you.’
She stuck her head into the baby’s nursery, eager to see what Jess had been up to for the past few days. She hadn’t thought to look at it yesterday when her head had still been woozy from the concussion and she was surprised to find it almost finished. The bottom half of the walls had been papered in a gorgeous pale green-and-white-striped wallpaper that Kitty hadn’t seen before, and mobiles hung from the ceiling above the newly assembled change table and cot. Tucked into one corner in front of a small bookcase and reading lamp was an inviting armchair upholstered in a pale apple green.
‘Wow, you’ve been busy.’
‘I had some time on my hands,’ Jess said. ‘I’m keen to get it finished. It was strange being in the house without you. And without the baby. Working on the nursery made me feel connected to you both, although I can’t take credit for much more than the design choices and dressing the cot. I’m keen to meet my baby and I sort of feel that if I get the nursery ready, maybe it will hurry things up. At least I feel ready.’