by Marie Force
“Why’d you stop, then?”
“Because I want to build the anticipation so when we finally get to the main event, there’s no chance anything can go wrong. We went from being the best of friends to jumping into bed together, and it didn’t work. We need a little transition time.”
“Is that what tonight was? Transition time?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“Will you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
“Will you clue me in on the plan so I know what to expect and what not to expect?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“So what happens next?”
“Now, I take you home and we make plans for tomorrow night.”
She rolls her lip between her teeth. “Do I have to go home?”
“You want to stay?”
Nodding, she says, “As long as you don’t mind getting up early to meet the five a.m. flower delivery at the shop.”
I groan dramatically, which makes her laugh. “I guess I can do that if it means I get to sleep with you.” Grasping her hand, I get up from the sofa and tug her along with me as I lock up, shut the lights off and go into my bedroom. Alarm bells sound in my brain. Sleeping together tonight was most definitely not part of the plan, but I lack the fortitude to say no to her when she asks me for something. If I were thinking straight, I’d realize I ought to be far more worried about that than anything else.
“This is really nice,” she says, taking in the dark wood furniture, fireplace, sitting area and artwork in my bedroom. “Are those Honey’s?” she asks of the framed photographs.
“Of course. You’ve seen this room before.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I can’t believe that with all the cookouts and pool parties we’ve had here.”
“I’ve never been in here.” With a teasing smile, she adds, “I hear there’s often a line out the door to gain access.”
“All lies.”
“Not sure I believe that. I hear they come from all over for a roll in the hay with the Sex God.”
Chapter Five
I freeze in the midst of removing my shirt. “What?” My voice is hardly more than a whisper. How does she know that?
She sits on the bed and leans back on her elbows, a move that immediately reawakens my poor tortured cock. “Come on, Garrett. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
I sit next to her, keeping my back to her. “I know what you’re talking about. What I want to know is how you know.”
“People talk.”
“People. What people?”
“People in this small town in which we live and work.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. And here I thought my tourist trade was such a well-kept secret. I turn to face her. “I want you to understand something. This, with us, is nothing like that. That was just how I killed time while I waited for you to feel better again.”
“By having one-night stands with tourists?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just sex with them. It’s so much more than that with you.”
“You really waited for me?”
“Hell, yes, I waited. I always wanted you. I wanted to kill someone when you married that douche Wayne.” God, what am I doing telling her this stuff? Words like these can’t be taken back, not that I’d ever take them back, but I had plans that did not include getting this serious with her.
She sits up straight, her expression startled. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“I thought he was what you wanted, so I kept my mouth shut.” Remember how I said I blame myself for her ending up with Wayne? There you have it.
Groaning, she falls back onto the bed, hands over her face. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.”
I stretch out next to her and tug on one of her hands. “What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you thought about me that way?”
“When was I supposed to do that when you were spending all your time with him?”
She removes her hands from her face and looks at me with big eyes swimming with tears. “I would’ve dropped him like a bad habit if I’d had the slightest inkling that you were interested in me that way.”
It’s my turn to groan as I bury my face in my hands, frustration pumping through me. “I can’t believe this. And here we thought we were such great friends.”
Lauren pulls a strand of my hair playfully. “We are great friends.”
I turn my face to the side so I can see her. “If that’s so, how have we never talked about any of this before?”
“We were trying to preserve that great friendship. We’ve both been around the block enough to know that any time you go here with a good friend, it’s a huge risk.”
“I hate to think that I could’ve changed what happened with Wayne by saying something sooner.”
“That is in no way your fault. I was young and stupid and lonely. This town… It can be a tough place to live sometimes. We’re so isolated, and the local talent can be somewhat lacking. Present company excluded, of course.”
“Of course,” I say, smiling as I take hold of her hand and link our fingers. “We wasted so much time.” Inside, I’m panicking over the serious turn this conversation has taken. We’re supposed to be about one week of hot sex before I head out for greener pastures, but with every minute I spend with her, I’m getting more sucked into something significant in a place I’ve never wanted to be. Fuck.
“I prefer to think we used that time to become the people we are today, and maybe we might be ready for this now when we wouldn’t have been before.”
Propping myself up on one elbow, I lean in to kiss her. “I want to be very, very clear about something.”
“What?” I love that breathless sound she makes whenever things get intense between us. I could very easily become addicted to that sound.
“I’ve wanted you for as long as I’ve understood what it means to want a woman.” And I just keep digging a deeper hole for myself to climb out of, but I want her to know that she’s sexy and desirable and lovable. The thought of her doubting herself because of that fucker Wayne makes me crazy.
“Garrett,” she says on a long sigh. “I’ve always had the worst crush on you, even when I was with Wayne—and Blake.”
Of course, I knew she’d hooked up with my friend a few times way back when, but I’d blocked that memory from my mind. “I don’t like to think about that stage of our lives.”
“We were bored and convenient to each other. That’s all it ever was.”
“Does Honey know that you slept with him?”
“Uh-huh. It was my idea for her to proposition him the night they first got together. She’d never had a decent orgasm in her life, so I suggested she take him for a ride.”
“Because he knows what he’s doing?” I’m unreasonably infuriated at the reminder that she once slept with my friend, even if it was years ago.
“Something like that.” After a pause, she says, “That doesn’t make you mad, does it?”
“No.” She’s turning me into a bald-faced liar. I’m fucking furious, although why I’m so furious isn’t exactly clear. Could it be because I always thought of her as mine, even when she was married to someone else or when she’d fooled around with my friend? I’ll have to chew on that disturbing thought later, when I’m alone. “That was years ago. What does it matter now?”
“Exactly.”
I take a series of breaths, trying to get my emotions under control. For the first time in my life, I’m experiencing what insane jealousy feels like, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. I’m not sure what I want to do first—fuck the memories of Blake right out of her mind or beat the shit out of my friend for daring to put his hands on her.
“If it doesn’t matter, why do you look like you want to kill someone?”
Remember what I said about being known by her? “It makes me crazy to think about you with any other guy.�
�� I go with the truth, because I can’t hide from her.
Her hand on my face and the soft, sweet look she gives me go a long way toward easing my tension. “Every guy I’ve ever been with, including Blake, I wished was you.”
Something inside me snaps at hearing that. I drag her into my arms and kiss her with years of pent-up desire and frustration pouring forth. Now that I’m finally allowed to show her the full extent of my desire for her, there’s no holding back, no plans or self-control. There’s only raw passion and desperate need. By the time I recapture my senses, I am on top of her, her legs and arms are wrapped around me, and I’m on fire for her.
“Do we really have to wait?”
Her softly spoken question permeates the fog that’s overtaken my common sense. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve got the woman of my dreams in my bed asking me to make love to her, and all I can think about is what went so terribly wrong the last time we tried this and how the next time must be fucking perfect or she might always think there’s something wrong with her. It takes every ounce of sanity I can muster to override the incessant throbbing in my dick to say, “I really think we should.”
Her eyes close, and a long sigh escapes her swollen lips. She squirms under me, making sure I can feel the heat of her pussy against the rigid length of my cock. Message received. I begin to wonder if a man can actually die from an acute case of blue balls. Mine are probably cobalt by now. Reluctantly, I roll off her and land on my back, looking up at the ceiling and summoning the fortitude to stick with the plan.
If only we hadn’t screwed this up so badly once before. If that hadn’t happened, I’d be balls deep in her tight wet heat right now. The thought of that has me biting back a groan as my dick surges with excitement over the visual I’ve created in my own mind. Down, boy.
“Let me get you something to sleep in,” I say as I sit up and run my fingers through my hair.
“That’s okay. I prefer to sleep au naturel.”
Fucking hell. Someone please just shoot me right now.
I half walk, half limp to the bathroom, where I eye the shower with lust in my heart. The only chance I have of relieving this ache and getting some sleep is if I can take the edge off. I return to the door. “I’m going to take a quick shower,” I tell her.
“I’m making myself at home in your bed. Take your time.”
With the vision of her naked in my bed occupying my mind, I’ll be lucky if it takes ten seconds. I go through the motions of getting cleaned up, but with all the blood in my body converged in one place, it doesn’t take long for my hand to end up wrapped tight around my cock. I prop my free hand against the wall of the shower and give myself over to the need for relief. I’m so primed that I immediately feel the telltale signs of impending release. Gasping, I give in to it and come harder than I have in my entire life, my whole body shaking from the explosive orgasm. I’m left breathless in the aftermath. I take greedy deep breaths and raise my face to the water to cool me off.
And even after all that, I’m still hard. Fucking awesome… I shut off the water, turn to get out of the shower, and I’m shocked to see Lauren in all her naked glory, leaning against the vanity, arms crossed under her breasts.
“I would’ve taken care of that for you.”
Holy hell. I had no idea she was there, and now that I know she saw me, I’m as hard as I was before I the orgasm in the shower. Without taking my eyes off the spectacular sight of her naked body, I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist. I have no idea what to say to her audacious statement, so I go through the motions of running a comb through my hair and brushing my teeth while trying to ignore the huge tent pole under my towel. In the linen closet, I find a new toothbrush and hand it to her.
She takes it from me without comment.
I pass the toothpaste to her.
“Thanks.”
We brush our teeth while making an effort to avoid eye contact in the mirror. I feel like a teenager who just got caught beating off in the shower. Even though I’m embarrassed to have been caught, I can’t stop hearing her say she would’ve taken care of it for me. Next time, I’ll let her.
I rinse the toothpaste out of my mouth and go into the walk-in closet that adjoins the bedroom. Rifling through my drawers, I find a pair of pajama pants at the bottom of a pile of gym shorts and put them on out of sheer self-preservation. If I’m intent on keeping to the bloody plan—and I’m this close to saying fuck the bloody plan—there’s no way we can both get in bed naked.
Lauren has left the bathroom by the time I emerge from the closet. I shut off the lights and get into bed, acutely aware of her next to me.
“I’m sorry if I intruded on a private moment,” she says after a long silence.
“I don’t mind.” With any other person on the planet, I’d be enraged, but I mean it when I say I don’t mind that she saw me.
She curls up to me, her warm, soft, naked body testing my resolve like nothing else ever could. “I meant it when I said that I would’ve taken care of you, Garrett.”
“Tonight was supposed to be about you.”
“Says who?”
“Me.”
“Well, there are two of us in this relationship, or whatever you want to call it, and it might be time to take this rigid plan of yours and either throw it out the window or shove it up your ass.”
I laugh at her bluntness. “Is that right?”
“Uh-huh.”
I realize she’s now above me about a second before her lips make contact with my chest. How is it possible that one soft kiss from this woman makes me feel like I’ve been hit with a stun gun when soft kisses from other women have absolutely no effect on me whatsoever? That’s another thing I’ll have to think about later when I’m not under the influence of Lauren and her sexy kisses and the soft stroke of her hair over my fevered skin.
Running my fingers through that long, curly hair, I try to bring her up for a kiss, but she won’t be deterred from her plan. Fuck…
Her soft kisses move from my chest to my abdomen, where she uses her tongue to trace the outline of each muscle. “Is this a six-pack or an eight-pack?”
Though I can hear the amusement in her question, I can barely breathe, let alone form a response.
“Let me count. One, two, three…” She counts to eight, tracing the outline of each abdominal muscle with the tip of her tongue. When she’s done with that, she moves to the V-cut muscles that cradle my hips. I’m going to lose my shit all over again if she keeps that up. Then she pushes my pajama pants down and wraps her hand around my hard cock. I suck in a sharp deep breath. I’m on the verge of exploding, and she’s barely touched me.
“I love how big you are,” she whispers.
This must’ve been how Job felt when he was so sorely tested. Now she has me quoting the Bible. Dear God. She holds my cock in her tight little hand and wraps her warm lips around the head, applying just the right amount of suction as she takes me into her mouth. The orgasm in the shower might’ve happened a year ago rather than ten minutes. That’s how fast she has me right back on the edge again.
Fucking hell, she’s good at this, and how did she get so good at it? The thought of her doing this to Wayne fucking Peterson nearly ruins the mood, and with my dick in Lauren’s mouth, I really don’t want to ruin this mood. So I push all thoughts of that son of a bitch to the past where they belong and focus on the extremely pleasurable present that’s unfolding before my eyes. And yes, even in the murky darkness, I can see her.
She’s so hot all the time, but when she’s blowing me… I don’t have the words to describe how incredibly sexy it is to watch her worship my cock. And worship is the only word I can think of for the way she licks and sucks and strokes me to the point of madness.
“Lo… Lauren… Babe…” I give her ample warning, but she doesn’t back off. If anything, she redoubles her efforts to give me the orgasm of a lifetime. I’m holding on by a fingernail when she cups my balls and squeezes—not too hard, but ju
st right, just enough to make me blow.
She stays with me through it all, never letting up until I’m completely drained and about to beg for mercy. She releases me slowly, dragging her lips and tongue over my sensitive flesh, making me tremble like a boy who just got blown for the first time by a master. That was, most definitely, not part of my plan for tonight.
When I think about all the time we’ve wasted with other people when we could’ve had this together… My newfound high is replaced by a crushing low that reminds me of how I felt when my father died and all my choices were taken from me so suddenly. I was this close to my great escape and now… Now, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. All I know is I love being with her like this. It feels right.
I cover my face with my hands and focus on breathing—and maintaining my composure, which has been thoroughly wrecked by the bewitching woman who has, one small step at a time, become the center of my world. If I let this happen with her, if I let it become about more than sex, I’m going to have to give up every other thing I want, and after waiting so long for the chance to spread my wings outside of Marfa, I’m not sure I can do that.
“Are you okay?” she asks, drawing me out of my thoughts and back into the moment with her.
“I’m far better than okay. That was amazing.” I reach for her and bring her into my arms, pulling the blanket up and over us. I want to stay forever in our little cocoon, where nothing and no one can touch us, and I’ve never wanted anything remotely close to that with anyone else. Usually, I plan my exit strategy before the foreplay begins. But with Lauren, I feel a desperate need to keep her close, to proceed with caution, to make sure nothing can ever hurt her again—including me.
Chapter Six
Unaccustomed to sharing my bed, I wake well ahead of the alarm when Lauren’s warm, soft body sprawls over me. That’s all it takes to make me immediately hard for her, but I don’t do anything about that. I want her to sleep as long as she can. She puts in long days that begin before dawn five days a week with the flower delivery from El Paso.