Just His Type (Part Three)

by June, Victoria

  "What are you thinking?" he murmured as he grinned cockily at me.

  I tried to shrug off my lusty thoughts but knew my blush betrayed me. More than half-naked and still slightly damp from the shower, just the sight of Adam standing there overloaded my brain. My tongue wouldn't work. Words wouldn't come. My hand trembled and Adam moved swiftly forward to take the glass of red wine from me before I spilled it. He grinned and sniffed inquiringly, before he took a sip.

  "Shiraz?" he asked. I nodded.

  "Californian?"

  I wrinkled my nose and Adam laughed. "Australian," I corrected. I moved over so he could sit down on the bed beside me. He leaned against the pillow and sipped again at the glass of wine. His bright green eyes closed and he sighed happily.

  "This is what's missing," he said when I curled up against him and rested my head against his shoulder. "Coming home to a hot shower, a nice glass of wine, and a beautiful woman. This is what's been missing in my life."

  There didn't seem to be anything to say to that, so I kept quiet.

  Adam passed the almost empty glass of wine back to me and I finished it off with a few long sips. He shucked off the towel and burrowed under the blankets in one swift, graceful movement that afforded me only the slightest peek at him and my pout of disappointment made him laugh.

  "Forgive me if I'm tired, Lil? It's been a long week." Adam lay back against the pillow and stretched his arms over his head with another sigh. "I've barely slept all week and it's been insanely busy at the restaurant. I feel run ragged."

  I flicked off the light, pulled off my robe, and settled under the sheets beside him, laughing as Adam echoed my earlier noise of frustration when he only saw a brief glimpse of my body.

  "Why haven't you been sleeping?" I asked as I snuggled up next to Adam. He wormed his arm beneath my head and I pressed my nose into the warmth of his neck and sighed contentedly, which garnered another deep laugh from him.

  "Thinking too hard, I guess."

  "About?" I prompted. I was endlessly, almost restlessly, curious to know what went on in his head.

  He turned his chin slightly so he could look at me in the light which filtered in my window from the street lamps outside. "You. Me. This," he said huskily.

  I waited, hoping more was coming.

  "It's funny, Lilly. You and me. It's funny. I don't really remember what I said to you at the bar a week ago, what line I used to make you laugh up at me, to smile at me like you did. I don't even remember how we decided to leave together. All I could think about was how nice you smelled, how soft your hands were, how blue your eyes were up close, how much I wanted to kiss you, to take you to bed and make love to you. I don't have very good luck with women. I still can't believe my luck with you."

  He paused. I could feel him playing with a tendril of my hair, winding it around his fingers again and again, worrying at it. It took a great deal for me to lie perfectly still and let Adam continue when he felt he was ready.

  "I used to lay awake at night and think about moments like this. I was scared I'd never have one again. That was the thing I feared most about what I'd done; it wasn't being incarcerated that scared me, or even that I was capable of doing something to put me there, it was the fear that once I was out, no woman was ever going to look me in the eye again, trust me, want me, see any sort of future with me. I can't change what I did and it's been a difficult battle fighting the shadow of it, even now. I thought I could escape it by moving here, but it follows me everywhere."

  My hand moved up to settle on Adam's chest. I could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, steady and reassuring.

  "The way you looked at me the other night at the restaurant just about killed me Lilly. I knew you knew; how could anything else put that look in your eyes? And I was angry. Not at you for feeling that way, how could you feel anything different? But because it was my fault for making the mistakes that I did and for being the reason you felt that way and looked at me the way you did."

  I could feel the tension of Adam's muscles beneath my hand, his whole body wound taut, waiting.

  "When you walked out of the restaurant the other night, I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he confessed.

  I buried my face deeper into Adam's neck. "Oh, Adam," I said, my sadness muffled against his salty, faintly soap-scented skin.

  "I've never been more surprised in my life than when you walked around the corner of my yard. I had to pinch myself to be sure it was you and not just my imagination." His fingers moved down the curl he'd been playing with to brush against my neck. "I didn't know what to say, what I should do. I wanted to kiss you so badly; it was all I could think about, as if that would fix things! As if I could just take you to bed and make you forget you knew anything about me, anything but what we were together, what we could be."

  He stalled and still I lay silent, quieter than I'd ever been in my life, although a million questions crowded at my lips.

  "What made you come back?" Adam asked finally.

  "Joe," I replied instantly. "And my own guilty conscience."

  I didn't need to see Adam's face to know his eyebrows had flown up. "Joe?"

  I explained what I'd done when I'd left the restaurant, everything Joe and I had talked about, everything I'd thought, felt, considered over the past week. Adam listened patiently, as I'd listened to him, so quiet and still, that only the too-quick rise and fall of his chest beneath my hand, and the constant brush of his fingers through my hair, hinted that he hadn't fallen asleep.

  "What a fucked up world this is," Adam concluded with a wry laugh once I'd finished telling my side of the story.

  "And you're just figuring this out now?" I teased lightly.

  Adam shook his head, his chin bumping my forehead. He dropped a kiss there, a feather-light apology. "No, I knew it a long time ago. I learned it the hard way."

  Silence stretched for a time. "Where does that put us?" I asked finally. My heart beat rapidly in my chest, driven partly by the soft sweep of Adam's fingers against the back of my neck and a little by the fear of what he might say.

  "Where do you want it to put us?"

  I wrinkled my nose, unsure. The tired, lost little girl side of me wanted him to hand me the answer, to make a decision and tell me how it was going to be for us; the stubborn, inquisitive journalist in me wanted to be upfront and blatantly, probably brutally, honest. Stubborn won out. "I truly don't know, Adam. I wish I did, but I don't."

  He nodded against my forehead. "That's fair."

  "No it's not," I countered.

  He chuckled. "Always the truth with you Lilly. Do you ever lie?"

  "Not really, no," I laughed. "I'm very bad at it."

  The tension in Adam dissipated, melted as we spoke. The tempo of his heartbeat had slowed with his breathing and there was a moment when I could have sworn I almost felt him fall asleep. I kissed his neck, he drowsily kissed my forehead, and then I closed my eyes and joined him in sleep.

  ~~~~*~~~~

  I was vaguely aware of his hand on my breast and for a drowsy moment thought I was dreaming the sensation until he rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling me from slumber.

  "What are doing?" I teased, prying one eye open. The alarm clock read 4:43.

  "Saying 'good morning'," Adam murmured in my ear. His voice was low and sexy, husky with disuse. It sent a shiver across my skin. I was spooned against him and in the small of my back I could feel his cock stir.

  "Morning?" I moaned. "It's not even close to morning."

  Adam pinched my nipple again, before smoothing over the sting with his thumb. I arched against him and gasped as the feeling shot straight between my thighs. His other hand snaked around to cup my other breast, his fingers mimicking each other as they teased me.

  "I can stop," Adam laughed. "If you want me to." He pressed his erection against me, nestling himself between my buttocks. I couldn't contain my sigh of satisfaction.

  "I thought about this all week," he whispered
into my ear as one hand strayed down to brush lightly against my curls. "Thought about you, the noises you make when I touch you, how wet you get for me." He trailed a finger through my wetness, all the while holding me immobile against him. His laugh was low as I groaned and tried to wiggle against him.

  "We haven't done this nearly enough," Adam murmured. He stroked my clit lightly before his fingers danced further down to test the dampness he'd caused. "There's too much I don't know about you yet. Too much we haven't tried." He repeated the procedure a few more times and I was torn between the teasing brush of his hand between my legs and the firm pull of his fingers on my nipple; both sensations made me crazy, made me want more.

  "It would be so easy to wake up beside you every morning, just like this," Adam said in a low tone, shifting his hips so his cock slipped between my thighs. We both groaned with pleasure.

  I only had to move just a little to take him inside and his hiss of satisfaction echoed my own. He moved slowly, withdrawing with almost lazy intent, taking his time with each new thrust inward, making me feel every inch of him. He kept one arm around my waist, holding me against him to stop me from moving too quickly, from speeding up the pace with my typical impatience.

  All I could do was gasp repeatedly to try to get air into my lungs. There didn't seem to be any room left in my body for oxygen, for anything but Adam and the constant push and pull of him within me.

  My first orgasm was a jumble of light and sensation, a sharp pulse of pleasure that made me cry out. Adam was whispering encouragement in my ear, a steady stream of words I couldn't understand but wanted to hear anyway. The second time I came, Adam matched me seconds later, his own contractions the mirror of my own.

  Satisfied and still only half-awake, I turned my head to kiss him. I could feel him smile against my lips as I stretched and purred contentedly.

  "Go back to sleep, Lilly" Adam prompted. He tucked me more firmly against the warmth of his body and smiling, I did as I was told.

  ~~~~*~~~~

  I woke up to find Adam propped up on his elbow staring down at me with a grin on his face. I smiled back and we just stared at each other for a while, not needing words for a time.

  "Okay, you look like a woman with something to say," Adam teased as he brushed my hair out of my eyes. "You might as well say it then, it'll just eat at you until you do."

  I laughed. "You've got the measure of me this early on, huh?"

  "Damn right," Adam retorted, his grin wide. "You just always need to know 'why', always need to have your say."

  "Pretty much," I conceded with a shrug.

  "So say it," he prompted, giving my nipple a pinch. I pushed my hip against him, laughing.

  "It's just, all my life I've had to put names to things, label them, quantify them, put them in neat little rows, alphabetical order if you like," I paused and looked up at him. Adam's green eyes were solemn, but he smiled softly and kissed my shoulder in encouragement. "But you and me, I don't think we can fit ourselves into a neat and tidy definition, not yet, not now."

  I stopped and Adam took up the cue. "I don't think so either, Lilly. I guess that's mostly my fault too. If I'd known that someday I'd meet you, maybe I would have done things differently in the past. It's going to follow me everywhere, always will. I like to pretend I could escape what I've done, but you know I can't. When people here find out, it might not be pleasant and it certainly won't be easy. Me, I have to deal with that; I always will. But you have a choice, Lil."

  I closed my eyes, but not before a tear slipped past my lashes. I turned my cheek to my pillow so Adam wouldn't see.

  "I'm not going to do the story," I whispered.

  Adam froze in the act of brushing my hair from my shoulder. I don't think that was what he'd been expecting to hear. "What are you going to tell your boss?"

  I thought for a moment. "I don't really know," I confessed. "I guess I tell him I think it's wrong, snooping into people's lives like that. It's none of my business, none of his either for that matter."

  "What will he do?"

  I laughed dryly. "Knowing Sterling, he'll probably relegate me to the social column, writing about silver anniversaries and retirement parties."

  "And that's?"

  "And that's okay." I filled in, and as I said the words, I realized they were true.

  Chapter Nine

  Nate removed his hand from beneath my skirt and drew my blouse closed, all without looking at me. He kept his eyes cast downward as he stood and didn't turn around right away. Instead he took a few deep, steadying breaths and began doing up his own buttons.

  "Could you please give us a moment, Mrs. Macintyre?" he said asked in a very tight voice.

  Though he blocked my view of the doorway, I felt her disgust and imagined the angry expression on her pudgy, squinty face. My sensual high had been snatched away so swiftly I felt like I'd been hit by a truck.

  "I most certainly will not!" Mrs. Macintyre huffed. "What in heaven's name are you doing?"

  I would have thought it was fairly obvious. I tried to meet Nate's eyes, but his chin had sunk to his chest and he wouldn't look at me. He released a weary breath and squared his shoulders.

  "Nate?" I implored but he didn't respond.

  "I wasn't really asking, Mrs. Macintyre." Nate's voice hardened as he directed it towards the woman standing in the doorway. "Give us a moment."

  I heard an indignant huff before the study door slammed shut.

  "Are we in trouble?" I whispered when I found Nate looking down at me. I watched as he wilted. "I don't know." He let out another tired sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. "We shouldn't be, but the Macintyres do like to blow things out of proportion."

  "Macintyres? Plural?"

  Nate nodded. His forehead creased as he scowled. "I'm pretty sure I saw Jenny lurking in her aunt's shadow."

  Damn.

  "Do you want me to stay or go?" I asked softly, knowing the women on the other side of the door were more than likely doing their best to listen.

  Nate considered me for a moment as I sat up and wiggled myself back into my bra then began doing up the buttons on my blouse.

  "Because I'll stay if you want me too. We're in this together," I reminded him.

  Nate stuffed his shirt-tails back into his pants. "You should go. You don't have to put up with their dramatics. I can handle it."

  There was a sinking feeling in my belly. Nate did know the Macintyre ladies much better than I did, but I was just as culpable as he was and I had no problem taking some heat for the situation. Plus, I was the one who had left the front door wide open. It was disappointing to think he didn't want my help.

  "Go, Adele," he prompted me gently. "You can sneak out through the dining room, into the kitchen, and out the back door."

  I shook my head. "I am not sneaking out, Nate," I whispered, feeling suddenly stubborn. "We've done nothing to be ashamed of. I won't run with my tail between my legs."

  I came to my feet and slipped them back into my heels.

  Nate nodded curtly. "Go. I'll call you later."

  I collected my purse and my jacket, both of which I had dumped inside the door when I'd rushed in earlier, proclaiming my love. That moment seemed like it happened years ago.

  "I love you," I whispered over my shoulder. Nate didn't answer and when I looked back he was already behind his desk, straightening the papers that had been crushed beneath us.

  I bit my lip. The sharp pain banished the tears that threatened to bubble to the surface. I turned the door knob and wrenched the door open. Both Mrs. Macintyre and her niece Jenny were huddled close to where the keyhole had been only moments before.

  "Ladies," I said with a cool, polite incline of my head. "Good afternoon."

  I tried to sail gracefully out of the house but I had no idea if the gesture had its intended affect. Mrs. Macintyre bustled into the study, her shrill voice rattling the mood in the house. Jenny slunk out of the manse behind me. Her clammy fingers closed
around my wrist.

  "I told you I would ruin you if you slept with him," she sneered. "Didn't I warn you?"

  I stopped my long stride down the front walk and shook off her grip on my arm but she refused to let go. "I didn't sleep with him," I pointed out. The words were useless seeing as the damage had been done, but I had to defend myself.

  "Harlot!"

  I almost laughed at the archaic accusation. This girl was so absurd.

  "Liar," she continued.

  I looked down into Jenny's round, scrunched up face, glad for once that I was tall enough to tower over someone. "I swear to God I didn't sleep with him."