BOUND TO HAPPEN

by Alison Kent

  "You've got that blond-hair-and-blue-eyes thing going on. Sort of an icy Scandinavian look."

  "And I think we both know that's a load of BS," she said, though she couldn't deny a small thrill that he'd noticed her looks.

  "Well, then," he said, grinning again, leaning back against the fence almost right behind where she stood in the shadows of the tree. "I guess it's just because you're so cool."

  She braced a shoulder on the tree trunk and studied his face. If only being "cool" was anywhere close to the truth. He had to know what everyone thought. If he knew who she was, there was no way he couldn't know what everyone thought. She wondered then if he was just playing with her, getting her hopes up before he crushed her to the ground.

  But that didn't seem to fit with the kind of guy she knew he was. And so she decided to be totally honest. She could only hope he wouldn't walk away. "You're close. You just need to drop the temperature a few more degrees."

  Sydney said what she had to say, then waited. The party was getting louder, the music and the people. The laughter was nothing but screeching and now a dozen of the kids were splashing in the Dailys' backyard pool.

  She wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else right now. It wasn't the crowd. It wasn't even the kids making up the crowd. Yes, they were getting on her nerves, but after four years she really was used to their antics.

  No, her bad mood was all about the things her mother had said. The accusations she'd made and the names she'd called her. Sydney guessed her mother was including her, along with her father, in the divorce.

  "Listen," Ray finally said. "I need to get another beer."

  Sydney's heart fell to her stomach and both made the trip to her feet. Pretty much what she'd expected. "Sure. Go ahead."

  "No." He shook his head, grinned, lifted his empty bottle. "Let me try that again. The rest of this six-pack's in my truck. You want to come with me?"

  Ray had never had to work at being popular. He'd never really cared about being popular. It all just sort of happened because of the things he'd done in school. And, okay. He supposed girls thought he was cute. But he didn't have anything to do with that.

  He remembered having wondered a lot about Sydney Ford during his senior year. Patrick hadn't known much about her except that everyone called her a cold fish. When Ray had asked his brother why, Patrick had shrugged and headed out the door to shoot hoops, which was all he ever wanted to do.

  For some reason, ever since Ray had seen Sydney Ford standing in the doorway of the computer lab last year, he'd had a hard time getting her out of his mind. And he wasn't sure why. He'd been dating Mandy Green, so he'd never really done anything about figuring it out.

  But the minute he'd walked into Boom Daily's backyard, looking for the guys he'd played football with, he'd seen her standing in the corner between the fence and the tree and he knew the time had come to make his move. There was nothing he loved more than a good challenge, and he'd learned a thing or two about making moves this past year at A&M.

  Sticking that extra long-neck bottle in his pocket had been a stroke of genius. He'd had a feeling Sydney Ford would've been used to a better class of beer than what these cheapskates had sprung for. She had a bad rep for being a snob. He'd just never seen anything to back it up.

  Maybe it was because he'd worked with Isabel Leighton on the school paper. He knew Izzy and trusted her judgment. She didn't put up with bullshit. And she was Sydney's best friend. That was enough to make Ray wonder. To make him want to discover the truth about Sydney Ford for himself—and only slightly less than he wanted to get her clothes off and get his hands on her body. For a cold fish, she was the hottest thing going in his book.

  They'd just reached his pickup parked against the curb half a block away when he heard sirens. He had a bad feeling about this. A really bad feeling. He looked from the beer cooler in the truck bed to Sydney and took a chance. "You want to get outta here?"

  Her expression was a sort of dazed confusion. She frowned and she blinked and she said, "I thought you wanted to party."

  He was thinking of a more private party, but he was really thinking that it wasn't going to be a good thing for Sydney to get busted for drinking underage. He jerked his head toward the sound of sirens, getting closer.

  "I think it might be a good idea if we leave before either of us gets invited to take another kind of ride."

  Her eyes widened, and when he opened the driver's-side door, she hopped in and slid across the bench seat. He followed and managed to get the keys out of his pocket, into the ignition and pull away from the curb before the red, white and blue lights flashed in his rearview mirror.

  When they reached the stop sign at the end of the street, he blew out a breath and cast a quick glance at Sydney. "That was a little too close."

  Her face remained impassive, but he caught a hint of emotion in her voice when she said, "Wouldn't that have given my mother a shock and a half. Her only daughter arrested!"

  "Yeah, and then you'd have to go through alcohol-awareness classes and community service, and it's all such a pain in the ass. This way you're saved the trouble and don't have to get bitched out by your mom."

  Sydney lifted her chin and gave a sharp huff. "I think mine would've congratulated me for having the balls to break the law. It would give her hope that I don't really have a stick up my ass."

  What the hell? Ray looked over. "Your mother told you you have a stick up your ass?"

  "Never mind." She waved off his question, then waited a minute and, crossing one leg beneath her on the seat, turned toward him and asked, "Where are we going?"

  Ray had returned his gaze to the street ahead so he couldn't be sure, but he swore Sydney had just scooted closer. "Actually, I'm just driving. Getting us outta there. You have anyplace you want to go?"

  She thought for a minute while he pulled out of the gated subdivision. "What about the water wall?"

  They weren't too far away. Sure. Why the hell not? Ray headed for the man-made waterfall at the Transco Fountain in the Galleria. He'd noticed Sydney's T-shirt earlier so he flipped down his visor and grabbed his Depeche Mode Violator CD. Though she kept her voice low, he could hear her as she sang along with "Personal Jesus." And she had a good voice.

  She also had a most excellent body, which for some reason she couldn't keep still. She was doing a whole lot of shifting about on the truck seat while he drove and she sang and the music played. They didn't talk, and she didn't ask if he minded, but halfway through the next song she did a fast-forward to find "Policy of Truth" before sitting back dead center in the seat.

  Ray nearly groaned. Another six inches and she'd be in his lap. She'd been working her way there for the past ten minutes. And she had to be doing it on purpose. He wondered if he should pull her on over, and he went so far as to lay his arm along the back of the seat. She leaned back and her hair brushed his arm and he almost dropped his hand to her shoulder, but he'd waited too long. They were there.

  He parked around the block, behind the adjacent lawn, figuring the short walk through the landscaped park would be a good time to talk. He'd wanted to get to know her for a long time now, and she obviously wanted to get to know him. He didn't want to screw this up.

  She turned toward him and moved closer, easing her way the rest of the distance between them. Their thighs brushed. He reached for his door handle, ready to let both of them out the truck. Sydney leaned across his body and wrapped her fingers around his hand, holding him still, catching her bottom lip with her teeth, looking up from beneath her long lashes with eyes that belonged in a bedroom.

  "I thought you wanted to party," she said, and Ray's hard-on answered for him. He couldn't believe this was happening.

  He let go of the door but not of her hand. He did shift his butt enough to lean back in the corner where the seat met the door. He used his eyes to invite her to come over. She stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, and her eyes were so bright and so blue.

  Then s
he smiled, and Ray was afraid his dick was going to explode when she braced her hand high on his thigh and leaned forward. He didn't even hesitate. He dropped his arm to her back and hauled her as close as he could. Her mouth was already opened when he touched it with his, so he gave her what she seemed to want.

  And she gave it to him right back. Mandy Green had never kissed him like this. The girls at A&M who'd taken him on as their pet sex project had come close, but no cigar. Because this kiss was as real as it got. For some reason Sydney Ford wanted him in ways he'd only imagined. She was telling him so with her mouth. And with the hand making its way to his fly. He knew he was being stupid, but he didn't give a shit. He let her touch him. He helped her touch him, pressing down on her hand where he needed her to press, cupping her fingers the way he needed her fingers cupped. He ground himself into her hand and he shuddered and then he stopped. He wanted to get his hands on her.

  He tried, but their position was awkward and he couldn't find the hem of her T-shirt without pushing her away. And he sure didn't want her going anywhere, not when she had such a warm and willing mouth. But then she pulled back. And, as he watched, she touched her fingers to her mouth, spreading the wetness from their kiss into her bottom lip. And then she totally blew him away. "Could we get a room?"

  "Uh, okay." God, he was going to come in his pants. "If that's what you want."

  She nodded. "That's what I want."

  Keeping his arm around Sydney's shoulders, Ray used his left hand to turn the key in the ignition and pull away from the curb. He wasn't a virgin, but he was pretty inexperienced when it came to renting a room. Most of his encounters had been in dorm rooms or frat houses or back seats of cars.

  He had money. He had condoms. He had Sydney and a hard-on that could break bricks. The only problem he could think of was patience. He didn't have any. And nerves. He had too many of those.

  What in the hell was going on here? He was about to take the Ice Queen to bed. That was what.

  Oh, God. What was she doing here? Alone with Ray Coffey, sitting in the front seat of his truck while he rented a motel room. With a bed. She couldn't believe she was doing this and released a short burst of laughter.

  She sounded hysterical. Her teeth were chattering. She was going to lose her virginity with Ray. The only boy she'd ever wanted to sleep with. Except he was no longer a boy.

  She watched him as he returned from the motel office, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. As if he was hiding the key to the room. As if he didn't want anyone to see. Sydney closed her eyes.

  She was being ridiculous. Silly, immature and ridiculous. Traits that were obviously the truth or her own mother wouldn't have called her on them and encouraged her to loosen up and enjoy life.

  To get the stick out of her ass.

  To get laid.

  She wondered if Mandy Green's mother had told her to get laid. If Mandy Green had had sex with Ray Coffey. And if there was any way at all Sydney could show him a good time when she didn't have a clue what to do. Okay. She'd read enough of Cosmo to know the mechanics. She'd even read an article somewhere called "The Gentle Taking of Virginity." But with the way her stomach was about to heave, she didn't know how she was supposed to relax. Much less enjoy.

  The truck door swung open. Sydney blinked as Ray climbed into the cab. He was quiet as he drove down the length of the two-story structure, reading the room numbers until he found the one he was looking for.

  He parked. He got out. He held the door as she climbed down. He placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her toward the right.

  And then they were there. He turned the key and Sydney stepped inside and he followed and pushed the door closed.

  The snap of the lock nearly did her in.

  She started to shake. Her stomach rolled queasily. The room was dark, the only light a sliver thrown across the two double beds from the slit where the drawn drapes didn't quite meet. She'd just decided to make a run for the bathroom when she felt Ray's hands on her shoulders, his lips teasing her ear where she'd nervously tacked her hair behind.

  She lifted her chin as the tremors making her so nervous settled in the pit of her belly. And lower, between her legs, where she felt herself grow damp. She'd had these feelings before, lying in bed, dreaming, wondering, waking from a deep sleep and thinking of Ray.

  But he was here and this was real. She was responding to him, to the touch of his lips, his hands and not the touch of her own beneath the bedcovers. Nerves became desire and she couldn't wait to feel him. So when he reached for the hem of her T-shirt, she lifted her arms.

  The room's refrigerated air chilled her skin and she shivered, but Ray was warm and solid and reassuring at her back. She turned in his arms and silently thanked him for leaving the light off. Later she wanted to see his face. Right now she was afraid she was going to cry. She might not be sexually experienced, but she knew enough to be pretty damn sure tears were not a turn-on.

  Praying for capable and not clumsy fingers, she reached for the buttons at the neckline of the maroon-and-white Aggies' pullover he wore. But when she went to tug the shirt from the waistband of his jeans, he stopped her.

  "Sydney, wait."

  She froze. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing's wrong. As far as I'm concerned, everything's right."

  "Why did you stop me?"

  "Are you sure about this? Really sure?"

  He sounded as if he was the one who wasn't sure. "I'm here, aren't I?"

  "Yeah. You are." He let go of her hands and moved his fingers to the straps of her bra. "But for the life of me I can't figure out why."

  His hands were shaking. Sydney closed her eyes and wrapped her fingers in the material of his shirt. What was she supposed to tell him?

  That a girl had to lose her virginity sooner or later? That she was being a dutiful daughter and doing exactly what her mother had told her to do? That she'd had a crush on him forever and she wanted him, more than anyone, to know that she wasn't a cold fish?

  Finally she leaned forward and, through the V at his neckline kissed the warm skin of his chest. "I'm here because I want to be with you. Isn't that enough?"

  At her whispered answer, he gripped her shoulders and blew out a steadying breath. She felt his rapid heartbeat where she'd pressed her forehead to his chest, felt his shaking fingers where they pulled her straps down her shoulders. She lifted her head and looked up through the shadows in time to catch his descending mouth.

  His kiss was gentle. He was seducing her with his lips and his tongue even while his hands moved to the catch on the back of her bra and set her loose. Stepping back, he put enough distance between them for her to slip her arms free. When he attempted to take back her mouth, she shook her head, insisting he allow her to finish what she'd tried to start. She tugged his shirt up and over his head.

  When he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close, she thought she was going to die. She'd never imagined anything, anyone … no, she'd never imagined Ray feeling this good. The muscles in his back were solid and hard, the muscles in his chest the same. The hair there tickled her breasts and her nose when she nuzzled close. He smelled wonderful. Clean and amazingly sweet. And his hands at her back made her feel as if she was the tiniest little thing.

  He backed up toward the bed, taking her with him. He sat, holding her by the waist. His thumbs met in the center of her belly. Her eyes had adjusted to the room's dim light, and she was able to see more now than she had been. Which meant Ray was probably also better able to see. And he was looking at her breasts, which she wished were a cup size larger.

  Slowly, gently, he skated his palms up her rib cage until he was able to stroke both her nipples with his thumbs. Sydney tossed her head back and held tight to his forearms. Her body trembled and she hated for him to think she was frightened. She was … in a good way and of what was to come. But not of him. Never of him.

  When he pulled her closer and lowered his head, when he took a nipple into his
mouth, she could hardly keep from crying out. His tongue, oh, his tongue. So warm and so wet. Rasping over her sensitive skin so that her nipples drew into hard swollen peaks. And then he trailed his kisses down her belly, licking at her belly button while sliding his hands down her sides … to the brass button of her jeans.

  He lifted his head, released the button, took the zipper all the way down. Oh, God, had she shaved her legs? Yes. What panties was she wearing? She thought back to getting dressed. Cotton, bikinis. Plain pink, she thought, yes, to match her pink lace bra.

  And then she couldn't think anymore because Ray's thumbs were tucked beneath her waistband and he was tugging the denim over her hips. She shimmied to help and heel-toed off her black Nikes. While she did that, he leaned back and lifted one leg, then the other, to tug off his boots.

  Sydney kicked her jeans free and stood wearing only the barest scrap of pink. But when Ray reached out to pull her panties down, she stopped him, holding his hands in place at her hips. "Not yet."

  She swore she heard a strangled groan when he said, "You've changed your mind."

  He was so amazingly cute. And so nice to actually be willing to stop. Instinct told her how revealing that was, how rare and how special. She was afraid what she had on him was not a crush at all. A crush seemed way too simple for the flutters and the hope she was feeling.

  "I haven't changed my mind. I just want you to take your pants off."

  He laughed then, and she didn't think she'd ever seen anyone get out of a pair of jeans so fast. And then they were standing in the dark room in only their socks and their underwear. The cold fish and the boy she was afraid was going to make her fall in love.

  When he pulled her into his arms, she went willingly, savoring the warmth of his skin and his much larger body and the press of his erection so hard against her giving flesh.

  When he tugged her down to the bed, she followed without hesitation, loving the way their legs tangled together, the way his hands seemed to be everywhere at once, the time he took with his kisses before stripping them both of the rest of their clothes.