Loose Ends

by Kristen Ashley

  Dio.

  Fabulous.

  “Watch,” he ordered on a grunt.

  It hit her she could see it all, and just how magnificent they were, right before the tingles shot up the insides of her thighs.

  “Bello,” she breathed.

  “Beautiful, do not come,” he ground out.

  Too late.

  Her head arched back at an impossible angle so she had to come up to her hands in the bed and arch her back.

  Suddenly she was fully up, just on her knees, Hap’s arms around her, driving her down as he pounded up.

  And she kept coming.

  “You want me at your clit?” His words were coarse in her ear.

  Gorgeous.

  “N-no,” she pushed out, trembling and still climaxing.

  “Shit, you’re cute,” he grunted, taking her, fucking her, then gliding a hand over her shoulder, up the side of her neck, into the back of her hair.

  He grasped it, shoved her forward at an arch away from his body, but still upright, holding her steady with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, his other one wrapped around her chest, fingers cupping her breast, and he grunted his climax while he pounded her through it.

  And as he did, another wave hit her, leaving her pulsing around his driving cock and whispering out faint whimpers.

  After a while, Hap bent forward, letting her rest her upper body to the bed, then he straightened and started stroking inside her gently as he ran his fingers over her bottom.

  “Jesus, this ass,” he murmured.

  She smiled into the bed.

  He caught at both of her hips, slid in and stayed put.

  “You okay?”

  She whipped her head around, cheek to the bed, but eyes aimed to him.

  “I’m cute?”

  “You aren’t right now,” he returned. “You’re hot as fuck right now. Sadly, I can’t do anything about that since you’ve very recently drained me dry.”

  She smiled at him.

  “And she gets even hotter,” he muttered, pulling out, using his hands at her hips to turn her to her back and then he landed on top of her.

  The minute he caught her gaze, she announced, “We’ve been fucking for hours, Hap.”

  His lips twitched. “Yeah, babe. I know. I was there.”

  “As an Italian woman, there is no escape, it’s coded in my DNA. I must get fed. But even more, I must feed you.”

  He did not look happy about the idea of leaving her bed.

  And that made her happy.

  “I’ll make an antipasto tray, bring it up,” she offered quietly.

  “Luce, we got a problem.”

  Oh no.

  No, no, no.

  No problems.

  The world did not exist. It was this bed and only her kitchen as she had to go to it to get food.

  And then it would again only be this bed.

  They could let the world in again.

  Just . . . later.

  To communicate this, Luci grabbed his head on either side and stated, “I don’t want to hear of any problems.”

  “This was my last condom.”

  “Dio mio, we have a problem,” she mumbled.

  Hap burst out laughing.

  Luci stilled and watched.

  Hap was handsome. That muscle-packed body (even better without clothes, she knew that, she’d seen him in swim trunks, however she’d never seen his cock, and that was delightful). His merry brown eyes. His military-cut brown hair, short on the sides, longer on the top.

  But laughing . . .

  No, when Luci made him laugh.

  He was beautiful.

  Those eyes, merry and twinkling down at her when he quit laughing, their lashes blunt and profuse, were his best feature. And that said a great deal since all the rest were fabulous.

  “How about this?” he started. “I hit the store, you make up some food. I can grab anything you need while I’m out. We’ll reconnect here, eat, fuck, and then sleep until next week because I’m not twenty-two anymore, and you’re killin’ me.”

  “This is a plan,” she agreed.

  “You got beer?” he asked.

  She was instantly insulted and didn’t hide it.

  He started chuckling. “Stupid question, you’re Luce.”

  “I am,” she retorted haughtily.

  He bent and touched his mouth to hers before he drew away and said softly, “Get rid of this condom, get dressed, go out, back soon’s I can.”

  “Deal,” she whispered.

  His gaze changed and when his mouth came back to hers, it was not a touch.

  The other time had not been a fluke, the experience magnified by a haze of alcohol.

  It was fact.

  Hap was a great kisser.

  He ended the kiss (sadly), rolled off but flipped her disheveled comforter over her and snatched up his jeans from the floor before he took his third walk to her bathroom.

  She rolled to her side to watch him go and curled into herself instead of stretching like a cat.

  Yes, he was attracted to her.

  Yes, he wanted her.

  Yes, he wanted this, fucking and bantering and eating, and fucking more.

  And sleeping.

  Sleeping until next week.

  She pulled the comforter over her mouth so he wouldn’t see her pleased smile if he walked back in.

  She’d been able to extinguish it by the time Hap returned wearing nothing but jeans, his muscles bulging and shifting as he walked.

  And watching him, Luci remembered when she first saw him that she thought he was too muscular. Too developed. Too big in that way.

  She had been very wrong.

  He found his T-shirt and tugged it on in that masculine way very masculine men had that was akin to wrangling the shirt to cover their bodies, uncaring how they stretched it and tugged it while they did so.

  Luci enjoyed that show as well.

  Shirt on, Hap sat on the bed to pull on his running shoes.

  “You need anything else?” he asked.

  “No, I went shopping this morning, so I’m fine.”

  He turned his head her way, still yanking on a shoe.

  Yes.

  So handsome.

  Dio, those eyes.

  “You got ice cream?”

  Hmm.

  “No,” she answered.

  “Then we are far from fine,” he muttered, finished with his shoes, bent deep and kissed her again. He pulled an inch away and carried on muttering. “I’ll stock you up. Do it quick. Be back soon.”

  “Okay, caro.”

  He gave her a wink.

  She memorized it.

  Then he pushed up off the bed but rounded it and nabbed his wallet then his baseball cap, shoving the former into his pocket and pulling the latter on as he sauntered out.

  She loved the cap.

  But she watched his ass as he walked away.

  He had an amazing ass. She’d always thought that.

  When she lost sight of him, Luci rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling before she rolled to her other side and bent her head back so she could stare through the reflection of the room in the windows to the dark and shadowy sea.

  She had no idea what was going on.

  She was not going to question it.

  Hap said they’d figure it out.

  And she believed him.

  But she knew he would not take it there, take it there again, and then again, then leave to get more prophylactics and “stock her up,” intending to come back and make love to her again and sleep together if he didn’t intend to be with her to figure it out.

  Make love.

  Hap didn’t do that, as such.

  He still did.

  It was unfair but natural to compare. She had not had anyone since Travis. And after she’d had Travis, the ones before no longer mattered.

  So she let herself do that. Compare.

  This once.

  Travis made love to her. He never
treated her like an untouchable goddess, but she was his wife, his woman. He was the kind of man who was gentle with women, all of them, including her.

  Things between them sexually could get intense. Travis could definitely be creative. He had a high libido, as did she, and their sex life had been healthy and tremendously satisfying the length of their relationship.

  But he had never dug his fingers in her ass while he took her pussy like he owned it, all the while ordering her to watch.

  Eyes still on the sea, Luci finally stretched like a cat, feeling her lips curl up in a smile even she knew was sultry.

  She should have known Hap would be like that. He took rough around the edges to extremes. She should have known he’d even fuck rough, dragging her around, lifting her through the air, positioning her where he wanted her, fucking her hard, knowing she could not only take it but want it, then giving her more.

  The bigger surprise was how very much she enjoyed it. She didn’t have to worry about pleasing him, if what she was doing was exciting him.

  She didn’t have to with Travis either. From the beginning, they’d been in sync, falling into each other and pleasuring each other’s bodies like they were born to do it.

  With Hap, he was in control. He dominated the bed. Even when she took his cock with her mouth, he shoved his hand into her hair like he was guiding her play.

  And when he was done having his cock sucked, he just was and made that so.

  She still knew she did it for him. The looks on his face she’d catch. The growls. When his touch would turn reverent, or possessive.

  She smiled again, stretched this time to get any kinks out, then rolled out of the bed. She pulled on her panties, untied the tails of her top and shrugged it on, buttoning only the two buttons at her breasts.

  She then walked downstairs.

  As she made it to her kitchen, Luci thought about Sam (who would be angry about Hap and Luci) and Kia (who would not).

  “They are not here. They do not get a say. Either way. This is me, my life, Hap, his life, and that is all,” she declared as she opened her refrigerator.

  And with that she put them out of her mind.

  She was pulling out meats and cheeses she got at the deli that morning when she had the insane urge to call Pearl and let her know what had just happened.

  She’d be gleeful and gleeful was much better than worried about her friend states away.

  Hap would have to go back to Bragg and his work tomorrow (hopefully tomorrow night).

  They would have talked by then (probably), started to figure it out.

  Made a plan.

  And made more plans (she hoped) to be together.

  So, she could call Pearl with a much fuller report on Monday.

  She had Andrea Bocelli playing low, the windows folded partially back so she could hear the sea, and she had made up a tray of olives, bocconcini, soppressata, prosciutto, chunks of provolone and pepperoncini when Hap returned.

  He had to hit the doorbell. Her door automatically locked unless she hit the button to keep the latch open.

  She went there, making her way thinking she needed to give him a key. She opened the door and froze when she saw he had six plastic bags of groceries dangling from his fingers, three on each side.

  “I should have given you my market bags,” she declared.

  “Babe, step aside,” he ordered.

  She did.

  He shouldered in and only then did she notice how full the bags were.

  Had he been gone that long to do that much shopping?

  “I told you I stocked up, caro,” she called after him, closing the door and hearing the latch click.

  “Apparently, I get hungry after a fuck-a-thon,” he replied, lifting the bags and dumping them with loud thuds on her island.

  Luci had a feeling he already knew this, but he was too much of a gentleman (of his sort) to share that.

  She smiled at his quip as she walked his way but tipped her head to the side when she saw him looking around like she’d moved the furniture in his absence and this confused him.

  His gaze finally came to her.

  “Luce, it goes without saying, I’m a sure thing.”

  She stopped walking to him and stood still, threw her head back and burst out laughing, feeling the absolute fullness of it.

  When her laughter was dying, she recommenced her trek to the island where Hap was still pulling out food but doing it now with his lips curved into a smile.

  She studied the food coming out (chips, more chips, jars of dip, tubs of dip, a bag of peanut butter M&Ms, a bag of caramel M&Ms, a bag of peanut M&Ms, ice cream (rocky road), and then more chips).

  Hap interrupted her perusal of the rather alarming junk food pile with, “Opera sucks.”

  She looked to him.

  “Bocelli has the voice of an angelo,” she retorted.

  “Opera sucks,” Hap repeated.

  She grinned at him and called out, “Alexa, play Lada Gaga.”

  “Okay,” Alexa’s metallic voice said.

  “Jesus, fuck, no,” Hap stated as Lady Gaga started. “You got Alexa?”

  “I have three Alexas.”

  He studied her then called, “Alexa, play Buckcherry.”

  “Okay,” Alexa singsonged, and “Gluttony” came on.

  “Hap, that’s not relaxing,” she complained.

  He grinned wolfishly at her. “Baby, if you need more relaxation after coming for me for a full five minutes that last go, I’ll fuel up and do it the right way.”

  She gave him a look that was mock annoyed before calling, “Alexa, play Tom Petty.”

  “Okay.”

  And “Saving Grace” came on.

  “She can compromise,” Hap muttered.

  “Hap, luce mio, do you eat like this always?” Luci asked.

  “Yup,” Hap answered, loading up his arms with bags of chips before turning to her large cupboard where he knew she kept her chips, among other things.

  There wouldn’t be enough room in there. She had chips (not that many, but she had them). She also cooked, so she had a stocked larder.

  She didn’t tell him that.

  Instead she asked, “How do you have that body and eat like this?”

  “I have this body so I can eat like this,” Hap explained, shoving chip bags in, forcing the space to accommodate his needs.

  “You’re going to crush the chips,” she warned.

  He turned from the cupboard, stating, “Best part. Tipping the bag to your mouth and eating all the crushed bits.”

  She’d never done that because she’d never blithely crushed chips.

  But it was hard to argue. Chips were delicious, full ones, broken ones, so it probably went without saying bits tasted just as good.

  She grabbed the ice cream and headed to the freezer.

  “Babe,” he called.

  God, she loved that word aimed at her coming from his mouth after she’d spent a lot of time with him when they were both naked.

  He’d always called her babe.

  He called all women “babe.”

  Now, it was different.

  “Yes?” she replied, straightening and kicking the freezer drawer closed with her foot.

  She stopped dead when she caught the serious look on his face.

  “We’ll eat. We’ll fuck. We’ll sleep. But tomorrow, honey, we’ll be talking.”

  “Of course,” she whispered, studying his face hard, trying to figure out how he had been all happy-go-lucky Hap and now he was so very serious. “It wasn’t a mistake,” she blurted.

  “No. It was not.”

  He said that firmly, enunciating each word clearly.

  She felt her shoulders relax.

  “What we did months ago wasn’t a mistake. I thought it was then, I was wrong. But I’ll never think this is a mistake. Not ever, baby,” he said and then finished confusingly, “And I hope you never think it is either.”

  “I won’t, Hap,” she whispered. �
�Not ever. Not ever. Of course I won’t.” She shook her head. “Not ever.”

  He didn’t say anything, but the muscle jumping up his cheek did.

  Dio.

  What was this?

  “I’m glad, Luce,” he finally spoke. “But we gotta get shit straight.”

  Luci lifted her chin. “I like shit straight.”

  He kept looking at her like he was trying to read her when she wasn’t hiding anything so she just held his gaze.

  Then he shook his head once, his lips twitched and he opened a bag of sour cream and chive chips and dumped half its contents on top of her perfectly constructed antipasto platter.

  She did not say a word.

  She didn’t care.

  She liked sour cream and chive chips.

  She was hungry.

  So she got Hap a beer, pulled out a bottle of wine, handed it to him and then went to open the beer.

  She did the difficult work of popping the cap and then Hap was taken care of.

  He did the work of pulling the cork and pouring the wine into a glass she slid in front of him and Luci was taken care of.

  Hap took his beer and the tray out to the deck.

  Luci took her wine and grabbed a throw blanket and followed him.

  They sat on her double-wide lounge, under the blanket, murmuring to each other about nothing, just catching up on what had happened in the time they’d lost, all while they munched.

  They decimated the tray. Hap had to get up to refill her wine once through it, and after it, he fucked her on her lounger under the throw, again while he was still almost fully clothed, but he demanded Luci be naked under him.

  It was delectable.

  He carried her to bed.

  He then left her there as he went down to close the windows.

  He was gone awhile so she suspected he tidied a bit too (Hap did that, especially putting food away, she’d noticed he was a stickler about food, though they’d left none of that, he still was known to at least help carry dishes into the kitchen).

  She was near sleep, and fighting it, when he crawled into bed beside her.

  Oh, but that simple act felt good.

  When he settled at her side on his back, she wrapped him up tight.

  And that felt better.

  He sighed.

  “Today, I am happy,” she whispered into his skin.