Some Sort of Crazy (Natalie and Miles) (Happy Crazy Love #2)

by Melanie Harlow

  Fucking hell.

  I braced myself with both arms on the granite island in the kitchen, grimacing as I willed my dick to give up the dream and retreat. You can stop being hard now. It’s not happening tonight. I know that’s a shock, but just relax already. I’ll pay attention to you later.

  After a few deep breaths and some concentrated thoughts on unsexy things like my great aunt Mildred, the smell of pigeon shit, and doing my taxes, my heart rate slowed and my cock seemed to get the message.

  I made a fresh pot of coffee, dumping what was left over from this afternoon. The words hadn’t been flowing too well today, and I’d hoped a caffeine infusion would help. But mostly I’d spent the day brooding over Natalie, annoyed that I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But there was nothing I could do about it. She was a relationship person; I was not.

  The End.

  But fucking Dan! What had he done to her tonight to make her show up here like this? It was torture! I’d fucked girls with boyfriends in the past, I’d fucked friends in the past, and I certainly had no hang-ups about no-strings-attached sex, but something inside me would not go there with her. She was different.

  She was also drunk.

  She had to be, throwing herself at me that way, saying those things. That wasn’t like her at all. Blindfold her? Tie her up? Jesus, I loved the thought that there might be a kinky side of Natalie to explore, but the circumstances here were too fraught with the wrong kind of tension. Until I was confident that she wasn’t coming after me just to spite her boyfriend, I wasn’t going to risk ruining our friendship over one night of hot sex. It was bad enough I said those things to her…although I’d meant them.

  Fuck yes, I’d meant them. I wanted nothing more than to tease her, play with her, make her vulnerable for all the right reasons. I wanted to see her naked and needy beneath me, her skin slick with sweat, her legs open for me. I’d make her come with my tongue first, use my fingers inside her, and when she was drenched and panting and whispering my name, I’d slide into her, slowly at first, make her feel every inch of my hard—

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. Again?

  Adjusting myself so my erection wasn’t pinned painfully inside my jeans, I briefly considered going upstairs to jerk off before the coffee was done. It would only take a minute. But then I heard a few muffled sobs coming from the living room, and my chest caved a little. She needed me more than my dick did. Sorry, buddy. Usually I put you first, but not tonight.

  I found some Motrin in a kitchen cabinet, poured a glass of water and then some coffee, and I put everything on a tray I saw lying on the counter. Feeling pleased with myself, I carried the tray into the living room, set it on the coffee table, and switched on a lamp.

  She was curled in a ball on the couch, her shoes on the floor, one bare foot covering the other one. Her dress had ridden up, and I willed myself not to peek at her crotch.

  OK, I peeked. She was wearing black lace panties. Fuck.

  But her face was buried in her hands, and her whole body shook with sad, pitiful sobs.

  “Hey. Come on. It’s not that bad.” I sat down next to her and put a hand on her back.

  “Yes, it is,” she wept.

  “Talk to me. What happened tonight?” I patted her as she kept crying, feeling a little awkward. Usually when a woman cries, I find any possible escape hatch, but I wanted to comfort Natalie, who had never been a crier, even as a kid. The only other time I’d ever seen her cry, in fact, was the night we said goodbye up here. Another near miss for us. Were we always destined to have this bad timing?

  I reached for her arm and pulled her up to a sitting position, then gathered her close so her cheek rested on my chest. Immediately she brought her knees up toward her chin, tucking her little feet between my legs. Her arms were folded into her chest, and I wrapped my arms around her whole body, legs and all. The tears stopped, and her breathing slowed. I lowered my face to her hair and inhaled.

  God, she smells delicious.

  I tried not to think about tomorrow, when she’d go back to that fucker, and he’d be the one who got to hold her.

  Eventually she pulled away from me, putting her feet on the floor. “I have to blow my nose. I’ll be right back,” she said, hiding her face from me as she hurried from the room.

  I heard the bathroom door open and close, and she was gone for several minutes. For a moment, I worried she was sick from the alcohol, but she reappeared in the living room looking puffy-faced and pink-eyed, but otherwise OK.

  I picked up the Motrin from the tray and held them out to her. “Here. Take these.”

  “Thanks.” She dropped onto the couch and took the pills from me, then popped them in her mouth. After drinking the entire glass of water, she picked up the coffee cup and sipped.

  “Better?”

  “Yeah. The world is just a little topsy turvy right now. I’m a bit dizzy.”

  “Been there. Want to get some air?”

  She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Yes.”

  We went out on the wraparound porch, and I pulled the front door shut behind us, making sure it was unlocked. To our right was a swing, which was probably not what she needed right now, and to our left were a few wooden chairs.

  “Want to sit?” I gestured to the chairs, and she nodded. I sat next to her but didn’t say anything right away. I wondered what she wanted to hear—should I ask what happened? Should I just wait for her to spill? Should I apologize for turning her down? She understood why I had to, didn’t she?

  Finally she spoke. “I’m sorry. This was such a bad idea.”

  “It’s OK.”

  “No, it’s not. I put you in a really bad position.”

  I paused. “Actually you had me in some really nice positions.”

  She slapped my wrist lightly, but she smiled a familiar smile, and I felt infinitely better. “You know what I mean.”

  I nodded. “I do. And I will probably regret my decision for the rest of my life, especially if you get back together with the Douchebag tomorrow. I’m running out of chances with you.”

  She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, tonight. And then…” I looked out across the orchard toward her parents’ house. “That night before I left for school. I wanted to—whatever, but I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you were with Dan, and even if we had—” I struggled to find words.

  “Whatevered,” she supplied.

  “Right. Even if we had whatevered, I felt like you’d have regretted it and our friendship would have suffered. And our friendship was important to me. So I forced myself to leave you alone.” I laughed a little at the way things had come full circle. “It’s funny, I remember coming back home and sitting right here on this porch, wondering if I was an idiot or a gentleman.”

  She took a sip of coffee, holding the cup in both hands. “And tonight?”

  I smiled wryly. “Exactly the same.”

  “Well, I think you’re a gentleman.”

  “Aha. See?” I pointed at her. “You agree that it would have been a mistake. You’d have been sorry tomorrow. I was right.”

  “I’m not saying that,” she said defensively. “I’m just telling you that you’re a gentleman, not an idiot. I’m the idiot, coming here and throwing myself at you.” Her cheeks flushed scarlet, and she rolled her eyes. “God.”

  “Natalie.” I put my hand on her arm. “Many women have trouble controlling their sexual urges around me. You need not be ashamed.”

  She groaned. “Promise you’re not going to make fun of me for this the rest of our lives.”

  “No way. I’m not that big a gentleman.”

  Her face went pale. “But you can’t tell anyone about this.”

  “Sure I can. But I won’t. In return, you tell me what the fuck happened tonight that made you lose your marbles.”

  She sighed and looked across the fields toward her childhood home. “Dan wants time apart. Either that or we broke u
p. I’m not sure.”

  “What? Why?”

  “He said he wants a break. He said it would be good for us to see who we are when we’re not a couple.” She sipped her coffee. “He said we should be free to see other people and do what we want for a while before we get married.”

  I blinked. That was so fucked up. He had her, and he wanted other girls?

  “I lied to you yesterday when I said things were great sexually between us. They’re not.” She stared into her coffee. “He doesn’t seem to want me like that anymore, yet he says he still loves me. He…he cheated on me last night. And I think he’s done it before.”

  Furious, I clenched my fists in my lap. “God, I’d like to punch that asshole right now. If he wanted other girls all this time, he should have said something and you guys should’ve broken up a long time ago. That’s the thing about having a girlfriend—you don’t get to fuck other girls. He doesn’t get to have it both ways.” Maybe my anger was hypocritical, since I’d been with girls who had boyfriends before, but goddammit, this was twice now I’d refrained from touching Natalie the way I wanted to, the way every bone in my body was aching to. OK, so I wasn’t exactly doing it for him, but he was a tangential reason why I wasn’t fucking her right this minute, and I was livid about it.

  “He’s not asking for both ways.” Natalie bristled a little. “That’s why he asked for the break.”

  “You’re defending him now?” It came out louder than I’d intended, but I couldn’t help it. I could write a fucking encyclopedia about all the ways he didn’t deserve her.

  “No! I mean, not really.” She sighed, her eyes closing. “I’m just trying to decide if there’s anything left there to salvage, I guess. But I don’t even know what I want anymore. I’m so confused. And so tired. And I have to get up so early tomorrow.”

  My anger dissipated. Be a friend, not an asshole. This isn’t about you or your dick. “Come on. I can take you home.” I stood up and she grabbed my hand.

  “No.” She looked up at me, her cheeks going a little pink. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Can I stay with you?”

  I blinked. Wow. God really wanted to test me tonight. “Uh. Sure.”

  “I’ll just open a little later tomorrow.”

  “I can take you early. I don’t mind.” See, God? I’m such a good person right now. I’m not even going to get myself off while she’s in the house, even though I really, really need to.

  She cocked a brow. “Like four AM early? I have to go home first for work clothes.”

  I shrugged. “Sure. Or you can take my car. Whatever you want.” I gave her hand a quick squeeze and dropped it. “There are no sheets on the beds in any guest rooms. Let me make one up for you real quick.”

  “Can’t I stay in your room?”

  Really, God? “You want to stay in my room?”

  “Yeah. Don’t you have two beds?”

  I shook my head. “My mother replaced them with a queen.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes fell for a second, but then she lifted her shoulders. “Well, I don’t care if you don’t.”

  You don’t care that you’ll be sleeping in the same bed as my erection all night long? Great. It’s a plan. “Um, OK.”

  Upstairs, I gave her a clean t-shirt and she went into the bathroom to change. In my room, I undressed down to my boxers, which was how I usually slept, but decided to throw on some pajama pants. The more barriers between her body and mine, the better. But then she came into the room, looking adorably sexy and clean-faced in my shirt, and I didn’t even try not to stare at her nipples, which poked through the thin white cotton. My cock jumped, and I rushed across the hall into the bathroom, where I vigorously brushed my teeth and thought about Aunt Mildred until blood stopped rushing between my legs.

  The light was off in my room when I returned, and I could barely make out her shape under the blanket. Leaving my glasses on the bedside table, I slid between the sheets, careful to stay on my side. When was the last time a woman slept in my bed without orgasms being involved? I couldn’t think of one time, actually. I didn’t even know what to do with myself.

  I lay there for a while on my back, hands beneath my head, breathing slowly and deeply, trying to stay calm. But I could smell her perfume, and it was making me hard again. Fuck! Was she asleep already? Could I rub one out without her knowing? I braved a look at her, and my eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to see that she was facing away from me, curled up on her side. Long, agonizing, minutes ticked by, during which I imagined rubbing my cock along the crack of her ass, which was sticking out in my direction. Taunting me.

  “I lied to you last night.” Her voice was so soft, I thought I might have imagined it. Or dreamed it.

  “Huh?” Stop thinking about her ass.

  She rolled to her other side and faced me, tucking her hands beneath her cheek. “I lied last night. I told you I didn’t remember what you said to me the night we said goodbye. The night before you left for school.”

  I blinked in surprise. “Oh.”

  “Did you really mean the things you said?”

  “Of course I meant them. I stand by every word I’ve ever said to you.” And my cock is standing straight up right now. So if you could please stop being beautiful and sexy and vulnerable, I’d appreciate it. Thanks.

  She took a shuddery breath. “And yet…tonight, you wouldn’t—”

  “Tonight was not about us, Natalie.”

  “But…what if it was?” She paused. “What if it could be?”

  Fuck, was she serious? Because I wanted that. I wanted a night that was just about us, wanted to show her what it was like to be with someone who appreciated her. Just one night, even if it was all we ever had. But I couldn’t be the one to initiate it, not without knowing it was really OK.

  “Natalie,” I started, but she interrupted me.

  “I’m lying here thinking, a week ago my life seemed so complete, everything in order. My relationship. My business. My house. I had everything I wanted.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I feel like I’ve been missing something. Like maybe I was wrong about what I wanted. I feel…lost.” She looked at me with her huge, round blue eyes, making my whole body heat up.

  “You’re not lost.” Rolling onto my side, I met her forehead with mine. “You’re right here with me.”

  And I kissed her. Just like that, I kissed her.

  I’d kind of intended it to be a quick, friendly, reassuring sort of kiss, but then I couldn’t stop.

  I kissed her again. And again. I couldn’t help it.

  She put a hand on the back of my neck, threading her fingers through my hair. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Miles.” Her words came breathlessly, as if they were taking her by surprise. “That’s why I came here tonight. I know you think it was about Dan and not you, but ever since you called me yesterday morning, I can’t get you out of my head. And the things you’re doing there…” She breathed deeply, inhaling and exhaling as her eyes traveled down my chest to where the blanket covered me to the hips and back up again. “The things you said to me on the couch…I want that. I want you.”

  Oh, yeah. This is happening. Tonight.

  I gave her a wicked grin. “Good. Because guess what?”

  “What?”

  I scooped her up and rolled over, pinning her beneath me. “The gentleman is on a break.”

  He kissed me deep and hard, his mouth slanting over mine, his tongue sliding between my lips. I welcomed it, sliding my fingers into his hair, tasting him for the first time. It’s Miles! I’m kissing Miles! In his bed! I had first-time butterflies in my belly and felt the tingle all the way to my toes. It had been so long since I’d even kissed another guy—everything felt new and different, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I reveled in the weight of his body over mine, his hips between my thighs, his hard length trapped between us. I ran my hands down his bare back, tilted my hips to meet his, my entire body hot and alive, radiating with desire.

/>   This, I thought as we frantically tore off each other’s clothes. This is fire.

  Miles knelt between my thighs, and my heart clamored in my chest. His body was beautiful. Ever since I’d walked in on him shirtless in his pajama pants, my nipples had been hard and my panties damp. I’d had to look away, scared my arousal was too obvious and he’d go sleep on the couch or something. Now I stared unabashedly at his muscular chest and stomach, the ink covering his arm, the V lines low on his torso that pointed directly to his thick, hard cock. Having only seen one dick in my entire life—and frankly, it was nowhere near as impressive as this one—I felt like I’d just unwrapped a shiny new toy, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it. I sat up and reached for him, but immediately he pushed my hands away and tipped me backward again, bracing himself above me.

  “Want something?” The sly grin was back.

  “Yes,” I panted.

  “What do you want?”

  He wanted to hear it again? Perfect, because I’d say it all night long. “I want you to fuck me. Hard.”

  “Hmmmm.” Sitting back on his heels, he put his palms on my quivering stomach and slid them up to my breasts, squeezing gently. Then he began circling his thumbs around my nipples, making them tingle and ache without even touching them, a sublime little torture. “I love hearing you say that, and you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, finally brushing the backs of his fingertips over the taut peaks. Then he pinched them¸ hard, and I cried out—in pain and relief. “But you were a bad girl today, weren’t you? Coming over here in your black lace panties telling me to fuck you.” He pinched me again. “Pretending all this time to be the innocent girl next door, teasing me with what I could never have, when you really just wanted to get fucked.”

  I started to protest, to tell him I hadn’t been pretending, that I really was sort of innocent where sex was concerned, but he immediately clamped a hand over my mouth, hard.

  “No excuses, Naughtalie Nixon. You misbehaved, and now I have to punish you.” Suddenly he flipped me over onto my belly and hitched up my hips so I was on my knees. When I tried to get up, he grabbed a handful of my hair and held my head down, pushing my cheek into the mattress. “Don’t. Move. Or you won’t get what you want.”