Nothing more.
“Thanks for having me,” she added.
“I loved having you,” Mike said.
Her mind jumped back to her vivid waking wet dream. Him on his knees, his mouth on her, the way he made her come. A small strangled sound slipped free of her and Aubrey shoved a fist to her lips. Too late.
“What was that?” he asked. She could hear that he was smiling. How odd was that?
“Nothing.”
“Sounded like something. Won’t you confess to me, Aubrey? Tell me all your secrets?” He gave a soft chuckle. “I feel like I’ve bared my soul to you. Filleted myself, even.”
“Nothing to bear or fillet,” she lied. “I’m a very boring person.”
His foot came up to bump the underside of her chair. It was as if he’d goosed her. She let out a startled little gasp that made him laugh even harder. “You’re far from boring. Very far from it.”
When she’d finally said good night for real and stood from her chair, her knees were a bit shaky, her stomach quaky and the pulse that beat between her thighs was all she could focus on. Ever the gentleman, he got up to walk her out.
Just as she headed for the gate, his hand reached out in the dark to snag her wrist again. Her pulse jumped like she’d been struck by lightning. Fuck, it felt as if she had been. He pulled her in and stared down at her. His eyes were silver in the moonlight.
He’d make a killer werewolf on a cover. The thought flitted through her mind wildly like a panicky bat in the night sky.
“Thanks for making me a hero,” he said.
“Hero?” Aubrey echoed. Confused.
“Yeah. The pool.”
“Oh the poo—” That was as far as she got before his lips touched hers very briefly. Barely a kiss. But enough of a kiss to stop her heart. She was a dead woman. Dying. She had no more pulse, she…
“It was nice to tell them that news, Aubrey.” He kissed her forehead once and then took a step back from her. “And really nice getting to know you more tonight.”
“You too,” she squeaked.
Then she dragged herself home, Bruce on her heels. Inside the house she knew for a fact she’d have Mike Sykes-soaked dreams. She looked down at Bruce as she climbed into bed. He didn’t wait for an invitation but jumped up to snuggle next to her.
“Why’d he have to go and kiss me, Bruce?” she asked, sighing.
Bruce didn’t have an answer. But he did have his own set of big, wet, sloppy kisses for her. Aubrey finally fell asleep with the fat harvest moon painting white-and-silver discs of light on her bedspread.
Chapter Six
Flip-flop. Flip-flop. Aubrey growled, trying to put the image of David into the cover the way she wanted. She needed to make sure he was prominent but not too big, so she could up the point size of the title and author name.
She stood, cracked her spine and then touched her toes. Time for a coffee. Time for two coffees.
“Maybe a run…” Her eyes darted to the bed where she saw her sheets, mussed and tossed. She’d had dream after dream about that kiss.
The first had been the kiss. Then she’d woken up. The second had been the kiss progressing to touching. Then she’d woken up. The third was the kiss progressing to toe-curling sex. She’d finally woken for the morning with a flutter in her chest and a dry mouth.
Run. Definitely.
Bruce caught on and tried his best to trip and kill her while she changed into running clothes. “I’m not taking you,” she told him.
He paused as if he understood.
“You can’t keep up after the first block. You’re too short. I’ll come back and walk you.”
He dropped to his side like she’d shot him.
Aubrey snorted. “Well, you’ll live, big guy. I promise. But I will come back and walk you. That’s also a promise.”
She pulled on her shoes, laced them tight and eyed the computer screen. Flipped the image a hair and then, “Voila! That’s perfect. Just needed a break from it is all.”
The sight of her bed brought a fresh rush of heat to her face. She hurriedly pulled the blankets up to cover the sheets and sighed. “Right. Run. Shake it off, Singleton. Shake it off.”
So she ran.
It was on Grove Street she saw a runner headed her way. Aubrey didn’t really consider herself a runner. She was more of a person who kept trying on running to see if it fit. Some days it fit her like a glove. Some days she felt like an elephant crashing to earth with every clumsy stride she made.
As the other runner approached, she straightened her form. She often ran better when other people ran by. Just because she didn’t want to look like a slouching loser. Aubrey snorted at herself. “You’re such a faker.”
She straightened her back, shortened her stride a bit, put her head up. Her ponytail was tucked through the back of her baseball cap and she could feel it swishing against her back with every stride. She considered, again, cutting it all off. Instead of focusing on that, she focused on a spot in the middle distance and said softly to herself, “Down.”
It was a mantra she’d read about in a running magazine and she’d be damned if it didn’t work to keep her focused and extend her running time before she had to take an occasional walk break.
“Aubrey!”
The voice pulled her out of her reverie. The other runner. But she squinted against the sun and realized it wasn’t just another runner. It was Mike.
He looked sweaty and fit and just bouncing along like his feet were made of fucking rubber instead of actual human flesh and bone.
“Hey! Mike!” She was actually happy to see him. Parts of her were very happy. It was actually distracting, the steady thrumming pulse between her pumping legs. A snippet of her dream floated through her head. Him—he of the nice thick forearms—holding her arms over her head, moving over her. Thrusting into her.
She gasped.
“You okay?” He crossed the street easily. One of those runners who looked like they defied gravity.
“I…I’m fine. I just pulled something.”
My groin…or my brain.
“Let’s finish up together.”
“I just started,” Aubrey confessed.
“Then I’ll come with you. If that’s okay.”
“Didn’t you just run?” Just the running in place was getting to her. She felt her heart give that little fish-flop thing it did sometimes. She had decided to do this to get away from thoughts of Mike. Now he was going to come with her?
She stifled a groan.
“I did. But I could go for a bit longer.”
This time she did groan.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Aubrey moved forward as tan, glistening Mike kept pace with her. His legs were as nice as his arms. “I’m fine. Just out of shape.”
He grinned, staring straight ahead. Aubrey was glad he wasn’t looking at her because the grin did strange things to her. Made the sensation in her pussy seem to hum through her entire body. Despite the warm autumn sun, her nipples peaked hard inside her sports bra.
In her head the mantra don’t look at my nipples, don’t look at my nipples, don’t look…was on a constant loop.
“You look pretty in shape to me, Aubrey.”
“Ugh. You won’t say that in another block or so.”
“No?” He seemed to be gaining energy instead of losing it and Aubrey hated him just a little for it.
But then she thought of the stamina he must have and had to cut off another surprised squeak. She could feel it wanting to bust free of her.
“Nope. When I’m hanging off you and begging you to kill me, you’ll see me for what I really am. A part-time wannabe runner at best.”
He laughed and she pointed right to Ruby Avenue. “Up there,” she gasped.
It was a hill and why she’d chosen it she had no idea. But it started to seem like a good idea when he took the lead, running just ahead of her. His legs were as nice as his arms, and his ass, in those worn gray athletic
shorts, was pretty much biteable. She did her best not to picture it naked and walking across her bedroom toward the bathroom and failed. It would probably be slightly sweaty in their postcoital glow. Possibly even sporting her teeth prints.
That made her giggle and the giggle made him pause.
He glanced over his shoulder, cocked an eyebrow. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, only slowing a bit.
“Nothing. Trust me.” He kept staring. She added, “You don’t want to know.”
“Oh but I do. Is it dirty?”
“Yep.” His grin grew and she realized she’d just blurted out the truth. “I mean…oh fuck,” she sighed.
“Will you tell me?” He put some more speed in his stride and she had to do the same to keep up.
“Maybe one day.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her again. “Is it about me?”
Again Aubrey found herself confessing. Kind of. “Maybe.”
“Oh I think it is,” he said as she somehow managed to pull up alongside him. The hill was behind them now and Aubrey knew she’d feel a momentary—fleeting—amount of relief. Her speed would pick up. At least until she realized that she was running.
That always slowed her down.
“And what makes you think that?” She tried to look fetching but figured she probably just looked apoplectic.
“I know a leering look of lust when I see one.”
She snorted and nearly choked from the effort of running. “Oh my God! Full of yourself much?”
They rounded Deerhorn Avenue and Aubrey turned left toward home. She could feel her pulse pounding heavily in her temples. She should never have thought to mix running and attraction. Not her smartest move.
“Not really. I haven’t had sex in eight months. I think a man full of himself would probably be having a lot more.”
She almost tripped, swayed on her feet and reached out blindly for support. He clasped her hand and steadied her.
“Did I surprise you?”
“Yeah. A bit. But…why would you tell me that?” she asked. “Most men I know would die first before copping to that.”
“Why’s that? It just means I made a choice.”
They were standing in the street, staring at each other. Aubrey wasn’t entirely sure when that had happened. She also became extremely aware that his hand was still on her elbow.
“Well, you’re not alone. I made a choice too. And ya know…why not tell a person I just met, right?”
“I told you because I’m flirting with you,” Mike said.
That shut her up. Few things did. Bradlee would be overjoyed.
“Is that wise?”
“Flirting with you or copping to it? Or both?”
“I just mean…we live next door to each other. What if it were to be a colossal disaster?”
“That would only happen if you were flirting with me too, Aubrey. Were you?” The pressure of his hand on her elbow increased just enough to quicken her heart.
“No! I mean, not really…” He stared at her with those pale-blue eyes. “Okay, maybe some. Just a bit.”
Hi gaze grew more heated and she felt it in her belly. Remembered the dream of him making her come. The image made her blush—she could feel it.
He touched her cheek. “I’m glad. Even if it was just a bit.”
She swallowed hard. “Maybe a little more than just a bit.”
He leaned in and her body seemed to tingle with electricity. “Even better.”
She was hot and sweaty and probably gross to look at, and yet all she wanted in the world was for him to kiss her. It was enough to make her feel a little lightheaded.
“I’d kiss you,” he said, plucking the thought from her mind. “But you look terrified.”
“I do?”
“You do. Is it because we’re neighbors and we get along and you want to take naked pictures of me?”
She stood straight, giving an offended little cry. “Not naked!”
“Just trying to see if you’re paying attention.”
“Just…enticing pictures. You know exactly what I mean.”
He grinned. His hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her inexorably forward. He seemed to have his own gravitational pull. She wondered if she could use that as an excuse to herself when she messed everything up by taking him to bed.
Mike’s mouth pressed to hers and lightning skittered under her skin. Her nipples spiked so hard she gasped a little. His tongue stroked over hers and her mind supplied the ever-popular image of him dragging it along her nether lips. Finding her clit with it. Licking her there. She moaned and he made a rough noise down in his throat. The kiss deepened and he held her tight with that hand to the back of her head. Mike put his other hand against her throat and seemed to trap her between his two palms. He sucked her tongue for an instant and she mimicked him.
Then the world brightened and seemed to sway because he pulled back and looked at her. “You’re right,” he said, stepping back.
“I…what?”
“Probably a bad idea.”
“I…of course. Yes.” Aubrey couldn’t remember ever feeling more confused.
“We’d never be a good match,” he said, nodding brusquely. Then he smacked her on the ass and made her hiss. “Race you home,” he said and took off.
Fuck. Fuckety, fuck, fuck! What the hell had that been?
Chapter Seven
She let the hot water beat down over her head. If only it could wash her recurring memories away with the sweat. But it was impossible to block the memory of his lips touching hers from her mind. Even more impossible to foil the tangible memory of him cupping the back of her head and even worse, him covering her throat with the other hand.
“Damn, damn, damn!” Aubrey growled. Now she had to get clean, change her clothes and have him over to model for her. Model!
Shirtless!
The water grew even hotter, which meant that in a minute or two it would turn ice-cold. Aubrey gave herself a final pep talk. She could do this. This was business. No need to panic. She took pictures of studly guys all the time.
Problem was, none of those summer studly guys had kissed her. Barring one peck on the cheek, and even a nun could handle a peck on the cheek!
She toweled off and then wrapped her hair in the soft blue towel. Aubrey slathered moisturizer on and rummaged in the laundry basket for fresh jeans. Lucky day, lucky day! Her favorites were clean. Old Levi’s that were so soft it was like walking around in pajama bottoms. They were her armor on difficult days with difficult shoots or difficult people. They’d be perfect.
A glance at the clock told her she had twenty minutes before Mike stopped by so they could figure out the pictures she wanted to take. She figured maybe him in the garden. He looked like a nature guy. Maybe down in her basement studio that was still woefully under construction. Will had helped her get started on it but then they’d fizzled out and she’d been content to work in her room on the desk upstairs.
“Because you didn’t want to deal with it and you’re lazy,” she muttered, stepping into the jeans sans panties. For no other reason than she didn’t feel like digging in the basket for them. “Talk about lazy,” she snorted.
Aubrey found a purple tie-dyed, long-sleeved thermal top and a bra. At least she could put on a bra, right? Maybe she should just greet him at the door nude. That would work wonders.
“Jesus. You’re like a teenager,” she scolded herself. Only Bruce hopped up from his bed because he thought she was addressing him. “Now that he’s declared he doesn’t want you, you’re hell-bent to get him to want you.”
The phone rang and she saw her sister’s number. Bradlee was the last person she wanted to talk to. Simply because her sister knew her like no one else. One listen to her voice and…
“Hello?”
“Oh God, did you do him yet?”
“Bradlee! And no. I was in the shower.”
“I just want to know.”
“No ki
dding.” Aubrey bent her head forward and shook it. That would be the extent of her doing her hair. She hadn’t owned a hairdryer since she was eighteen. A decade without one had proven just fine by her.
“He’s doable.”
“No kidding,” she groaned.
“Uh-oh, what does that mean?”
“Nothing.” Moving through the room, Aubrey kicked a pile of dirty stuff ahead of her and scooped it into the hamper before walking into her closet to find shoes. Not that she truly needed shoes. He was coming to her.
“Did you almost do it?”
“No!” Aubrey roared. She snagged the mukluks Laura had given her for Christmas. There. She’d be super-calm and nonchalant. Nothing says I’m-so-not-trying-to-impress-you more than slippers, worn jeans and wet hair.
“Then why are you so angry if not from coitus interruptus?”
“Because—” Aubrey cut herself off and chewed her lip. She flopped down on the bed and pulled on the slippers. She debated makeup. Decided not to. It would make her feel like flirting again.
“Come on. You’ll feel better if you tell me. You know you will.”
“Don’t you have my niece to attend to?”
“Playdate.”
“Housework to do?”
“Did it early.”
“Papers to grade since you’re substituting for the math teacher?”
“Already done!”
“So what? This is you calling because you’re…bored?”
“Why can’t it be because I care about my sister?”
Aubrey flopped back on the bed. “Brad…come on, girl.”
“Fine, I’m dying to know. He’s hot, he likes you. You’re hot, you like him. Together you’d be super-hot and my husband is away and has been forever and I need to vicariously have hot monkey sex through you.”
“Eww.”
Bradlee groaned. “Aubrey.”
“There will be no hot monkey sex for any of us,” Aubrey said, trying to sound very no-big-dealish.
“Oh noooo,” Bradlee cried. Aubrey heard the poof and then squeak of Bradlee’s favorite easy chair. She could picture her sister draping her long legs over the arm and settling back to commiserate. “Why?”
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