It Happened One Summer

by Tessa Bailey

  And she was trying like hell to get the fly of his jeans open.

  Brendan aided her, undoing the top snap, wincing as he lowered the zipper and his cock surged, filling with even more pressure now that it had room to breathe. It crowded into the notch between her legs, and she whimpered, digging her heels into his ass to bring him closer—and he came, grinding against her slippery flesh. One thrust and he’d be home.

  That’s when the worst possible thing occurred to him.

  “Goddammit, Piper.” His life flashed before his eyes. “I don’t have a condom.”

  She paused in the act of laying kisses on his neck, her breath hitching. “You’re lying. Please tell me you’re lying.”

  “I’m not. I don’t carry them.” Her head fell back on a sob, and he couldn’t stop himself from licking the sexy line of her throat, catching his teeth on her earlobe. “I didn’t think I’d see you . . .”

  Their heads turned at the same time, another kiss pulling them deep deep deep, and his hips pumped involuntarily, moving in the act of fucking, his shaft sliding up and back through the smooth lips of her sex without breaching her entrance.

  “Brendan,” she panted.

  “Yes, baby.”

  “I had a physical. Right before I left.” They breathed hard against each other’s mouths. “I’m all clear and I’m on the shot and I just need you so bad. So bad.”

  He dropped his face into her neck and growled, reached between them to fist his erection. “I’m all clear, too. Piper, Jesus, are you going to let me fuck you bare?”

  “Yes. Yes.”

  She purred that second “yes,” and his balls cinched up painfully, making him grit his teeth, mentally ordering himself not to come too fast. But when he notched his first few inches inside of her wet heat, it became obvious what a challenge that would be. “God, baby. God.” He rocked deeper, and she gasped. “You’re tighter than sin.”

  By the time he filled her completely, she was shaking like a fucking leaf, and he had to focus, focus on staying still. Just long enough to organize his lust, garner some semblance of control, or he’d just take her in a frenzy. He just needed a minute. Just a minute.

  “Rough,” she sobbed, her back arching off the wall. “Want you rough.”

  There went his minute.

  Brendan’s first upward thrust drove her up the wall, and she choked on a scream, those beautiful blue eyes glazing over. He clapped a palm over her mouth and pumped again, harder, their eyes meeting over the curve of his hand. There was a coiling in the dead center of his chest, and it must have registered on his face because something flared in her gaze. A ripple of panic in the lake of her lust.

  She pushed his hand away slowly, her expression changing. Her eyelids dropped to half-mast, and she looked up at him through the veil of them, biting her lip. “Does this feel good?” Rhythmically, she squeezed him with the walls of her pussy, humming in her throat, killing him slowly. “Are my thighs open wide enough for you, Captain?”

  His legs almost gave out, but he held on. Held on, even though part of him was so starved for release that he was tempted to let her make this just about sex. Even though she’d slept in his bed, worried for him enough to show up at the hospital crying. But he would fight this battle with her as many times as it took. Until she realized he wasn’t falling for it and there was more here. A hell of a lot more.

  Brendan glued his mouth to her ear and started to fuck—hard—her legs jostling around his hips with every vicious thrust. “Came here to be neighborly, Piper? Is there anything neighborly about the way I’m giving you this cock?”

  God, he loved the way she whined his name in response.

  “I was out in the middle of a fucking storm thinking about you. Thinking about how pretty you look in my garden. Thinking about you waiting for me at the end of my dock, in my harbor. Standing there in the sunset so I can touch you before I even touch land.” He opened his lips on the pulse at her neck, razing the spot with his teeth, his hips moving in hard punches. “I thought about your mouth and your eyes and your legs and your pussy. I never stopped. Now you knock that phony shit off, baby, and tell me you missed me.”

  She inhaled hard, her fingers curling on his shoulders. “I missed you.”

  A balm spread over his heart, even as his need, his urgency, wrenched higher, hotter. “You can wrap me as tight as you want around that little finger, but I won’t play games about what this is. Get me, Piper?”

  Their eyes locked just before their mouths did. They knew the battle of wills was far from over, but their hunger was going to eclipse it for now. He took hold of her ass and hefted her higher against the wall, jerking her knees up and propping them on his hips. He angled himself deep, inward and up, so he could hit that spot inside of her—and he went at her hard. Her throaty whimpers told him to stay right there, keep delivering, and he did. He put a lock on the hot seed inside of him dying to get loose and focused on the way her face changed every time he increased his pace. It went from optimistic to astonished to desperate.

  “Oh my God, Brendan, don’t s-stop.” Her eyes lost focus, her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. “Harder. Harder. You’re going to . . . you’re going to make me . . .”

  “Every time, Piper.” Out on the water, he’d replayed Piper having an orgasm while he licked her clit on his kitchen table about a thousand times, but feeling it happen around his cock flipped some primal switch inside of him, and he let loose, pressing their foreheads together and drilling into her sweet, snug channel that was already starting to convulse. “Come on, baby. Let’s have it. Show me what I do to that high-maintenance pussy.”

  Her mouth formed an O, and she tightened up, her hands slapping at his shoulders—and then she crashed, her flesh rippling around him. She writhed between him and the wall, fighting the pleasure and requiring it at the same time, her eyes wide and seeing nothing. “Brendan. Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. Brendan.”

  Hearing his name on her lips pushed him past his breaking point, and the seal ripped off his resistance. The bottom of his spine twisted, molten lust impacting him low, hard, more urgently than he’d ever felt anything. Piper’s legs went limp right as he came, but she held on to him tight as he bucked. Lifting her feet off the floor until the last of the unbelievable pressure left him. And he collapsed against her.

  “Holy . . .” she breathed into his neck. “Holy shit.”

  His heart pounded in his jugular. “Couldn’t agree more.”

  She puffed a dazed laugh.

  He kissed her temple, pulled back to search her eyes. “Don’t tense up on me, Piper.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever be tense again,” she whispered, her lids falling.

  With a chest full of pride, Brendan kissed her forehead, cheeks, mouth, then knelt down and kissed her belly, picking up her borrowed shirt before straightening. He dropped it over her head, helping her put both arms through the holes, and zipped himself back into his jeans. With Piper still leaning against the wall in a stupor that he definitely didn’t mind, he found a box of tissues, plucked out a handful, and cleaned his spend off the insides of her thighs.

  That last part woke her up. “I can do that,” she said, reaching for the tissue box.

  He caught her wrist. “I like doing it.”

  “Brendan . . .” Her swallow was audible. “Just because I missed you . . .”

  There it was. “Yeah?”

  “Well . . .” She stooped down and collected her pants, dragging them up her legs with trembling hands. “I—I’m worried I’m leading you on—”

  “Jesus.” He laughed without humor, took a moment to pull his sweatshirt over his head, and ignored the pinch in his chest. “I can only imagine what kind of idiots you’ve dated, Piper. But I’m not one of them. I’m a grown-ass man, and I know where we stand. I know you’re going to make me work for you, and I’m not scared of it.”

  Her eyes went momentarily dreamy, but she snapped out of it fast. “Work for me? There�
�s nothing to work for!”

  “What the hell does that mean?” he barked.

  “It means . . .” She wrung her hands. “I’m . . . I’m not available to be your girlfriend.”

  Brendan sighed. Was he annoyed? Yes. Did he want to be anywhere else in the world? No. And that was fucking confusing, but apparently it was what he enjoyed now. Being confused and charmed and pulled apart over this woman. “What do you want to call this, Piper? Let’s compromise.”

  “Friends with benefits?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  He reached out, cupped her pussy roughly through the Lycra of her yoga pants, teasing the seam with his middle finger. “This is a hell of a lot more than a benefit.”

  Piper swayed.

  He removed his hand quickly and caught her, gathering her up against his chest. “How about we call ourselves ‘more than friends’?”

  “That’s too broad. It could mean anything.” She rubbed absent circles on his chest while he counted her eyelashes. “Married people are more than friends.”

  It was too soon to examine why he liked the word “married” on her lips so much, right? “We’ll go with ‘more than friends,’” he rumbled, kissing her before she could protest. It took her a few seconds to participate, but their mouths quickly turned breathless. He backed her against the wall once more, Piper’s palm molding to the front of his jeans where his cock rose again, ready, desperate for more of her—

  “Brendan Taggart, please make your way to the fourth-floor information desk,” came a tired voice over the PA system, repeating itself twice while they remained frozen mid-kiss.

  “Fuck,” he ground out, breathing through his nose and willing his hard-on to subside. There was no way it was happening, though, so he adjusted himself to be as inconspicuous as possible, then took Piper’s hand and tugged her toward the door. “Come with me.”

  “Oh.” He looked back over his shoulder to find Piper patting her haphazard hair in a way he found adorable. “Um. Okay.”

  Brendan moved the chair he’d braced under the door handle, and they walked side by side into the dim hospital hallway. He looked down at her, trying to puzzle together how she felt about the label “more than friends.” This conversation, this war, was far from over, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d won a battle, just getting her to hold his hand as if it was the natural thing to do. You’re not getting rid of me, Piper.

  “Brendan?”

  The sound of his father-in-law’s voice caused a hitch in his stride. Brendan tore his attention off of Piper to find Mick loitering by the information desk. “Mick.”

  His father-in-law went still, dismay marring his features as he split a look between Brendan and Piper. Their joined hands. Piper’s messy hair. And for a few seconds, Brendan couldn’t stave off the guilt. Not completely. But only because he should have gone to Mick, told the man about his feelings for Piper. Blindsiding him like this was the last thing Brendan wanted to do. He’d never seen Brendan with anyone but his daughter, and the shock had to bite.

  Distracted by his regrets, he didn’t react quickly enough to Piper pulling her hand away.

  He tried to get it back, but it was too late.

  “Hey, Mick,” she said quietly, wetting her lips.

  Mick didn’t respond. In fact, he blatantly ignored Piper, and Brendan felt a surge of anger. This was his fault, though. He’d missed a crucial step, and now here they were, in this awkward situation that could have been avoided. And dammit, the last thing he needed was to hand Piper another reason to keep distance between them.

  “Oh good,” said a smiling nurse, stepping behind the desk. “You found him.”

  “Just came to check on Sanders,” Mick mumbled, jerking his thumb at nowhere in particular.

  “Oh, um. I’m going to . . .” Piper started. “I, um . . . You can get a ride back with Mick, right?” She wouldn’t look at him, was already edging toward the elevators. “Hannah is probably wondering where I am. I should head home.”

  Brendan followed Piper, catching her by the elbow before she could hit the call button. “Stay. We’ll drive home together.”

  “Stop.” She batted his chest playfully, falling back on flirting. “You totally have to stay here and make sure Sanders is okay. I’ll just see you later!”

  “Piper.”

  “Brendan,” she echoed, mimicking his serious face while her finger desperately punched the elevator button. “It’s fine, okay?” When he still hesitated to let go of her elbow, she lost her bravado and begged him with her eyes. “Please.”

  With a stiff nod, he watched her disappear behind the doors of the elevator, already missing the weight of her hand inside his. He wanted to go after her, at least kiss her before she drove home, but had a feeling she needed space. He just hoped the headway they’d made this morning on the journey to “more than friends” hadn’t been erased in a matter of minutes.

  Duty and respect pulled at him, so while he vowed to make things right with Piper later, he turned on a heel and went to face his father-in-law.

  Mick put up a hand as Brendan reached him. “You don’t have to explain, Brendan. I know you’re a young man with oats to sow.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not a lot of fellas who’d be able to ignore a girl like that.”

  “No. She’s . . . impossible to ignore.” He’d made it all of one day, hadn’t he? Less? Before she’d started feeling . . . inevitable. Brendan couldn’t help glancing back at the elevator. When he turned around, Mick was fixated on his ring finger. The lack of hardware surrounding it, rather. The lines around Mick’s eyes turned stark white and a sheen filled them.

  Brendan hated the feeling of disloyalty that burrowed under his skin. Logically, he knew there was nothing disloyal about him pursuing Piper. Not at all. But this man who’d taken Brendan under his wing, made him the captain of his boat, and been a damn good friend and father figure . . . shit, disappointing him burned. It was right there on the tip of his tongue to explain that he was serious about Piper, not sowing oats, but Mick seeing he’d finally taken off his wedding ring was enough for one day. He didn’t need to hit the man over the head. Not when he probably saw the lack of Brendan’s ring as one more piece of his daughter being chipped away.

  He clapped Mick on the shoulder. “Let’s go check on Sanders, all right?”

  Mick, obviously grateful for the change of subject, nodded, and they walked side by side to the wing where Sanders was healing.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Piper dragged herself up the steps to the apartment and unlocked the door. Out of concern for her growling stomach, she’d stopped for coffee and breakfast on the ride home, making it close to noon. She’d already texted Hannah to let her know Brendan and the crew were fine, then promptly ignored all the follow-up questions about how things went at the hospital. Because . . . how did things go at the hospital?

  Still not in possession of concrete answers, she trudged into the apartment carrying a cinnamon dolce latte for Hannah, half expecting her sister to be working at the record shop, but Hannah was lying on the top bunk, obligatory headphones over her ears, wailing about a simple twist of fate.

  Piper knocked on the frame of the bunk bed, and Hannah yelped, shooting up into a sitting position and knocking the headphones onto the cradle of her neck. Her startled expression turned quickly to delight. “Oooh. For me?”

  Piper handed her sister the cup. “Hmm.”

  Hannah raised an eyebrow while taking a sip. “You look . . . different today.”

  “I took a shower last night and slept with wet hair,” Piper murmured absently, sitting down on the bottom bunk. She stared at the far wall of the apartment—which was actually quite near—and tried to process the last few hours.

  Her sister hopped down from the top bunk. “Piper.” She snuggled close, nudging Piper in the ribs with an elbow. “You’re too quiet. Talk to me.”

  Piper pressed her lips together and said nothing.

&n
bsp; “Oh, come on.”

  Silence.

  “Start small. Something innocuous. How was the drive?”

  “I don’t remember.” Unable to keep a certain piece of news to herself any longer, though she would probably regret sharing at a later date, Piper reached over and clutched Hannah’s knee. “Hannah, he . . . he gave me a vaginal orgasm.”

  Her sister almost dropped her coffee. “What? Like . . . you climaxed just from penetration?”

  “Yes,” Piper whispered, fanning her face. “It was like, I thought . . . maybe? And then . . . no way. But then, yes. Yes, yes, fucking yes. Against a wall. A wall, Hanns.” She closed her eyes and added, “It was the most wonderful sex of my life. And he didn’t even break a sweat.”

  “Oh, Piper.” Hannah shook her head. “You are so fucked.”

  “No.” Piper threw her shoulders back. “No, I escaped without too much damage. He got me to admit we’re more than friends, but there was minimal cuddling and we have no plans to see each other again. I’ll just avoid him for a while.”

  Hannah lunged to her feet and turned on Piper. “What are you scared of?”

  Piper snorted. “I’m not scared.”

  And she wasn’t. Was she? This constant weight in her belly was totally normal. As was the certainty that Brendan would eventually realize there were a thousand other girls just like Piper Bellinger; she was definitely not the kind of girl for whom a man kept a ring on for seven years, that’s for sure!

  She was just an exotic bird in this small, uneventful town, and he’d realize that eventually.

  Or he wouldn’t.

  That was even more terrifying.

  What if his feelings for her were actually genuine? She couldn’t fight her own much longer. They were getting worse by the day. She’d driven like a bat out of hell to the hospital, already half in mourning. Sick with it. And the joy when he’d arrived, hale and hearty. My God, she was almost exhausted thinking about the gymnastics her heart had done.