Talking In Your Sleep...

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Talking In Your Sleep... Page 10

by Hunter, Samantha


  “Nope. He caught me in the kitchen at the shelter one day, I was packing some lunches, and he got in my personal space a little too much. When I asked him to back off, he asked me out. I turned him down flat, of course. He didn’t like the rejection—I think he might have gotten mad at me, but one of the residents came in, and he left.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “I never thought about it again, to be honest. He was so annoying.”

  Pam nodded. “Well, his annoyance translated into a big scene tonight, and that scene might make some serious trouble for me—we could be shut down by the end of January if people stop their donations. If the papers get hold of this, maybe faster.”

  Joy threw her hands up. “I don’t get it—it’s not like you house teenagers or vulnerable populations. These are grown men. Ted’s an adult, and you have an adult relationship. How is he doing in all of this?”

  Joy knew she’d hit the big nerve when she saw fat tears rolling down Pam’s cheeks.

  “H-he…We’re not together anymore.” The last word was choked out on another sob.

  “What do you mean you’re not together? How can that be?”

  “We were so angry with each other, I guess. We left, and drove down to the Seaport and walked, and he was in his ‘too bad about them, what do we care?’ mode, and I had to remind him that twelve other lives are depending on me and keeping that shelter open right now. His open declaration threatened that—who knows how bad it will be if word gets around?”

  Joy sat back, pensive. Pam was in a terrible spot, and she didn’t know exactly what to say to make her feel better, so she chose her words carefully.

  “I can see how you were both pushed into impossible corners. I don’t blame him for wanting to come out and say you’re together—he’s right, why should you be ashamed?” Joy said, holding a hand up to stem Pam’s quick response. “I can also see that you’re right, too—it’s about more than the two of you. You have worked so hard to make Second Chance what it is, and it’s directly responsible for how successful Ted has become. He should have realized that.”

  Pam raised a hand to her face, quieter now, but seeming almost emptied out.

  “He does know, which is making him feel guilty for what he did, though he shouldn’t—you know? It also means the people at the shelter will probably find out, and that could screw things up there. You know how they see me as a mother, or like a boss, at least. This could diminish me in their eyes.”

  “Because you fell in love? How can they miss how wonderful this is? They would all be inspired to work for the same in life, I think.”

  Pam smiled wanly. “That’s true, but as you know some of them aren’t ‘there’ yet—they’ve faced such hard times, and they rely on me as the steady presence, the rock…. If they think I might leave, abandon them, well…Or there could be any number of responses I could imagine, none of them good.”

  “All the more reason for you and Ted to provide a united front. You should talk to the residents together, explain, and Ted could make sure they understand. I think they’d be happy for you.”

  Pam shrugged, draining her wine.

  “It’s all too complicated. That may or may not be the right way to go. I have some people I can ask, counselors at other agencies. They can help. I don’t know if Ted and I will be getting back together—he was hurt, I was hurt, a lot of angry things were said.”

  “Oh, Pam, that happens in the best of relationships. People overcome worse all the time—you know that. What’s your motto?”

  Pam closed her eyes, shaking her head.

  “No, come on. You know every single one of those guys who has come in has lost hope and then they find you. What do you tell them?”

  “There’s no challenge so huge you can’t take it on one step at a time,” Pam repeated tiredly, a phrase she’d used a million times with others.

  “And?” Joy prompted.

  “Okay, okay. Sheesh. And if you argue for your limitations, you get to keep them.”

  Joy smiled, setting her glass on the table.

  “I never knew how annoying those sayings were until now,” Pam muttered, and Joy laughed.

  “A joke! All is not lost if you can make a joke!” she cheerfully offered one more of the many motivational truisms she’d heard Pam share over the years. Corny as they were, they cut to the truth of things, and they worked.

  “This may be more than we can—”

  “Stop—no arguing for your limitations, remember?”

  Pam sighed heavily, giving in. “Okay. Okay. I’ll find out tomorrow how bad it is, and we’ll get started trying to save face.”

  “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. You could start by adopting some of Ted’s attitude—while he made an error in making his announcement when he did, he’s right. You don’t have to apologize for the fact that you’re with him. You shouldn’t.”

  “I know. I’m used to giving everything I have to the shelter. I’ve done that for years, and I don’t know how to separate it all out.”

  “You could start by calling Ted. You two need to talk more now that you’re calm.”

  Pam nodded, her eyelids drooping.

  “Time for sleep. Tomorrow is a new day,” Joy quipped and offered Pam a blanket.

  “Please, stop. I can’t take any more motivation now.”

  “Okay, see you in the morning.”

  Pam burrowed down into the large sofa, and Joy milled around for a bit, making sure she had settled down before heading to bed.

  Looking out her window, she saw the lights on in Warren’s house. Rafe was up at this late hour. Her notion of acting the temptress had her shaking her head as she crawled back into bed. Something was tipping all of their worlds sideways lately. Hell, she’d almost opened the door stark naked to her friend tonight. Poor Pam had saved her from seriously embarrassing herself. She’d have to tell her that when she was feeling better. Maybe.

  As Joy lay in bed, she mulled for long minutes on whether she had actually experienced a ping of disappointment when it hadn’t been Rafe at the door, but sleep saved her from having to admit it.

  Chapter 9

  Rafe hadn’t slept at all, his body and mind wired from the interaction with Joy. He’d meant what he’d said. He wanted to get to know her, to have some fun, to help her loosen up. No pressure. He’d have someone to share the holidays with, and maybe they could exert a little physical energy together. All good things.

  Glancing down at the insistent morning stiffy he had thinking about it, he hoped they might be able to do that sooner rather than later. She was as wound up as he was, and ready to explode. The repressed desire inside of her and the hungry desperation of her kiss told him that they could share a very merry Christmas together, indeed.

  After making his way to the shower, his eyes tired from the lack of sleep though he wasn’t as groggy as usual, he stepped under the hot water and thought about the moment by Joy’s door.

  He had no doubt they would be good together, in spite of her worries. He soaped himself, wondering who had instilled such doubt in her mind about her own sexuality, and why it had taken such deep root. Whoever it was, the guy must have been a bastard. Joy kissed like an angel, he thought, remembering how soft her mouth had been, arousal shooting through him. Rinsing off, his palm curled around his cock, which was demanding attention.

  As tempting as it might be, he resisted, backing off. Taking off a little steam never bothered him, but in this case, he wanted to wait—he wanted to stay in this suspended state of arousal, looking forward to what it would be like when he finally could show Joy how much fun they could have together.

  His fingers moved instead to the shower dial, switching the water from hot to cold, solving the problem the old-fashioned way. Within moments he was back out, drying off and reaching for his jeans with a keen sense of expectation about seeing Joy later that day. Tonight would have to be soon enough, and in the meanwhile, he had enough house projects to keep hi
m busy and pass the day.

  As he was about to leave the house, however, Joy pulled into her driveway. He stopped and got out of the car, crossing the lawn to meet her.

  “Hey—what are you doing home?”

  She looked tired, as if she’d been up all night, as well. “I was going to go in late, but Ken actually told me to take a personal day—we had a great day yesterday, and he’s in a generous mood, so I took him up on it. Pam came by in the middle of the night with a problem, and I’m exhausted after staying up with her.”

  “Who’s Pam?”

  “Oh. A good friend. She runs the organization where I volunteer.”

  “Is she still here?”

  “No. She left before I got up, but I thought I’d justify my day off by making some cookies for the shelter, so I went to get some supplies.”

  “That’s nice. Want help?”

  She’d been talking to him over her shoulder as she was taking grocery out of the car, and finally she turned, their eyes meeting in a flash of heat.

  “Um, sure,” she said, smiling. He nearly cheered out loud. Progress. “I haven’t baked anything for a while, so I can’t guarantee how successful this will be—do you know how to make cookies?”

  “I know how to eat them,” he joked, taking two of the bags and walking with her toward the house.

  “You can be the taste tester then. That way we’ll know that no one at the shelter will die from eating my cookies.”

  “Oh, thanks, that’s just swell,” he responded with mock sarcasm, chuckling as they went inside. “So,” he said, following her into the kitchen and noticing the blankets still thrown over the living-room sofa where her friend must have stayed. “What kind of crisis did your friend have?”

  “Oh, it’s with her love life, but unfortunately it could also mean trouble for Second Chance.”

  He frowned as her voice broke on the last, and he realized she’d stopped unpacking things from the bags.

  “You okay?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m worried about the shelter. Pam has some potentially serious trouble, and I want to help. Maybe I could pass some thoughts by you, get your take?”

  Rafe was surprised, and flattered. “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “I want to find a way to offset the rumors circulating about the place—undeservedly—maybe some sort of event to show people how much good Pam does for the local community.”

  Rafe took over unpacking the groceries, leaving items on the counter and said, “Why don’t you tell me what the problem is?”

  Joy related most of Pam’s dilemma as succinctly as she could. To her relief, Rafe didn’t particularly see the issue with two consenting adults getting together, regardless of their backgrounds. However, he also knew the world could be far more judgmental, and said so. She warmed to him even more for being so accepting.

  “I’ll give you what feedback I can, but it sounds like you’re already on the right track.”

  He held out his hand. She took it, and there was a spark of something in her eyes that he liked very much.

  No one was more surprised than he was when she launched herself forward into his arms. He was taken off guard, but not about to argue. Joy had a lot of emotion riding under the surface, and he wondered what it would be like when she really let go.

  “Hey, I like this,” he teased.

  She drew back, looking at him seriously, the way she always did, but her eyes were brighter.

  “Thanks, Rafe. It’s nice to have someone to spend the day with, making cookies, bouncing ideas around. I’m so used to being by myself, but I like your company. A lot. The whole thing with Pam, with this guy she likes, well, it has me wondering how much we miss if we worry too much about what other people think.”

  “That’s a good point. You have to make decisions that are right for you,” he said in a low tone, his eyes dropping to her mouth.

  He knew what a huge step it was for her to be open with him, to share her thoughts and ask his opinion, and the urge to kiss her was killing him. When she didn’t move away, he gave in, dipping forward to taste her lightly, then more deeply until they were winding around each other, breathless. He walked her backward a few steps until she bumped into a chair and lost her footing. Steadying themselves, she laughed and pushed the hair back from her flushed cheeks.

  “Maybe we should make those cookies.”

  He nodded, his heart pounding from the kiss, his erection straining against his jeans. He could think of better ways to spend the day, but that wasn’t what Joy needed right now.

  “Tell me what you want me to do, and I’m yours,” he said, knowing she’d pick up on the not-so-subtle innuendo in his offer. He meant every word.

  * * *

  By four o’clock, the house was hot from the oven, as well as the sun shining in all day. Cookies surrounded her and Rafe on every side—all surfaces of the kitchen were covered with cooling, decorated or soon-to-be-decorated cookies.

  Baking hadn’t been that difficult, really, and it had been fun. They’d worked together easily while brainstorming ideas to help the shelter. Rafe actually was a wonderful sounding board, and he was very creative, and told her what he thought honestly. She was even more excited about her ideas now and couldn’t wait to tell Pam. She felt so good to be doing something, not sitting around worrying.

  Joy peeked at Rafe while he stood sprinkling sugar in a very precise, male fashion over a tray of frosted goodies—he was gorgeous, inside and out. He was so easygoing, happy to help. He genuinely seemed to like her company, too. Warmth stole through her, and she bit her lip, watching him. The T-shirt he wore was a little damp from the heat and stuck to his skin, revealing the strong muscles of his back, and she lowered her gaze to other delectable regions.

  Rafe might be surrounded by sweets, but he was a sexy confection all by himself. She chuckled out loud, and covered her hand to her lips a moment too late. He turned, looking at her, a dab of green sugar at the corner of his lips.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, unaware.

  “You’ve been sampling again,” she accused, her eyes transfixed on the sugar.

  Following the direction of her stare, he started to lift his hand to remove the evidence, but she stepped forward, halting him. She shut off her mind and followed her instincts for once. It was about time she started taking some of the opportunities for fun that came her way.

  “Let me,” she offered, her heart beating furiously as she slipped a hand behind his neck and lifted up to dart her tongue out and lick the sugar away.

  He lasted for two strokes of her tongue against his skin until he pulled her up close with a groan and took over, backing her into the counter and kissing her so hard and so thoroughly that she couldn’t breathe, but air was highly overrated anyway. If she’d thought the temperature was hot in the kitchen before, it was rising by degrees as he kissed her.

  “Joy, I want you something fierce,” he murmured in her ear, pressing the promise of his erection against her hip. Tension twisted inside of her, invading the moment—should she?

  His hand slipped under the T-shirt she was wearing, finding her breasts, closing and rubbing, plucking and caressing the sensitive tips into hard points against his palm. Oh, my, he knew what he was doing, and her body responded to his dedicated, confident touch.

  “You like that? How about this?”

  Pulling her shirt off right there in her kitchen, he had her topless before she could object, not that she planned to. It was scandalous—the windows were open; she could hear voices out in the yard where a woman next door visited someone else across the fence. They couldn’t see…but they were there, and she and Rafe were…ohhh.

  He suckled her so sweetly she dug her fingers into his hair and she managed to quell her moan to a whimper, lest she be heard through the screen door. When he drew away, lapping her skin with his tongue, she objected with a muted groan.

  “Come here,” he said, his eyes wicked as he grasped a bowl of frosting they’
d been using for cookies.

  She held perfectly still, unbearably aroused as he used the soft spatula to completely frost her breasts. Her skin was so hot she figured the confection would melt right off her skin. Rafe smiled devilishly, reaching for some red cinnamon sprinkles. Her eyes went wide.

  “Rafe, what are you doing?”

  “Decorating you—you are plenty tasty enough all on your own, but this is fun—isn’t it?” He looked at her intently, and she had no choice but to agree.

  “Yes, it is.”

  He took great care in “decorating” her, and she thought she would go crazy, dying for his mouth on her, waiting interminable minutes before he stepped back to admire his masterpiece. He yanked off his own shirt and hauled her against him for a deep kiss.

  “You ruined all that hard work,” she whispered breathlessly as he released her, icing and cinnamon candies smeared all over his chest now, as well.

  “Now we get to share,” he said with an evil wiggle of his eyebrows, making her laugh, then moan, as he began licking away the frosting with dedicated thoroughness, his tongue washing every inch of her clean, her body on fire and writhing as he did. She was short of begging him to take her by the time he finished, and she knew he could tell that when he looked at her.

  “Do you want this, Joy? Do you want me?”

  She’d never wanted anything more. He was like every dream she’d ever had—literally—coming true. But even her dreams, while hot, hadn’t been this fun, this real.

  She held his gaze, nodded, and he smiled in heartfelt relief, as if he’d been poised on an edge, waiting. The fact that he seemed to have held his breath for her answer made her feel special. Within seconds he was naked and so was she. A tray of cookies slid noisily to the floor as he made room for her on the counter, his movements sure but urgent.

  She couldn’t believe a man, let alone a man like Rafe, wanted her this badly. She could see in the way his eyes raked over her, in the hardness of his body and the tremble of his hand, how much he needed her.

  “I’ve never done this before…on a kitchen counter, I mean,” she said hesitantly, watching him grab a condom from his wallet and slide it over his shaft. She was on the pill, but didn’t protest. The next thing she knew, he was flush up against her, that delicious part of him sliding against her heat, though he didn’t make his way inside.

 

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