The Great Bedroom War

by Laurie Kellogg

  Huffing, Dani stomped up the steep rear servant’s steps.

  “What’re you getting ticked off at her for?” Nick asked.

  Because the child was right, darn her. Sleeping in the same room with her ex shouldn’t be a problem. But it was.

  “Our daughter made an excellent point, Sammy. You never had any trouble holding me off in the bedroom before I moved out,” he said, reminding her of the cold war they’d engaged in after she’d caught him checking her packet of birth control pills one night following a condom mishap. Their ensuing argument over his lack of trust had been the catalyst to her firing the fatal shot in the condom war that ultimately ended their marriage.

  “Just like that, you get to dictate whether we have another baby?” she’d hollered at him.

  “No. But I should get to decide if I want to become a father again. If you want to get pregnant, baby,”—he’d flipped his hand toward her in mock deference—“be my guest. But you’d better find yourself another stud, because I’m not making love to you without a raincoat.”

  “Then you can forget about me taking El Capitán on any more midnight rides,” she’d threatened, “until you’re prepared to trust me enough to do it bareback!”

  “So go ahead and cut me off. There are plenty of other women who have no problem with having safe-sex.”

  “This is what I think of your safe-sex!” Sam picked up her embroidery scissors and stabbed every foil packet in his bedside table.

  From that morning on, she’d kept her word as stubbornly as he’d kept his. Nick began staying late at the office—or so the man with the rabbit sex drive claimed. His lack of trust and implied intention to satisfy his needs elsewhere provided compelling evidence that her feelings were one-sided and probably always had been.

  She’d lain awake beside him every night, smelling his musky scent, her breasts swollen and aching to be touched. At times, her insides throbbed so insistently her womb actually wept, yearning for him. Not a night had gone by that she hadn’t wished she could take back her ultimatum.

  Nick tugged her from her memories as he gently cupped her cheek and turned her face toward him. “You know I would never force myself on you, Abejita. So what’s different now?”

  She shoved his hand away. “Nothing.”

  And there was the problem. She’d derived zero satisfaction from having the final say in their marriage, and she still ached for him as relentlessly as she had over a year ago. Even more so after spending that entire time sleeping alone. Despite how long it had been, she hadn’t forgotten how incredible it felt when he held and touched her. It was all she could do not to tear her clothes off right here and now and throw herself at him.

  “If nothing’s changed, then there shouldn’t be a problem with me sleeping in the master suite, should there? Unless....”—he arched one superior eyebrow at her—“you still have the hots for me, and you’re worried you’ll ravish me.”

  The rat had done it again. He’d maneuvered her into a position where she was damned no matter how she answered.

  He stepped closer and stroked her lower lip with his thumb. “Of course, if that’s the case, I’ll happily submit. Just say the word, cariño.”

  She was in a no-win situation. If she insisted he sleep on the sofa, she’d come off as spiteful and unreasonable. And if she gave him the bedroom and slept on the couch in his stead, he’d know he could still get to her.

  “Is there some reason I can’t sleep on the sofa bed in your room?”

  When Dani became ill, they’d bought a convertible couch for the master suite’s alcove so their daughter could sleep close to them on the nights she needed extra TLC, which was quite often at first. As always, Sam had done intensive research for the purchase and found a model in which the sofa’s back folded down to create a bed that was as comfortable as any traditional mattress. “How about because we’re divorced.”

  “Is that all you’re worried about? It’s not like I’m asking to sleep in the bed with you.” His cheeks sucked in as if he were struggling to suppress another one of his infuriating, self-satisfied smiles. “All I want is to share the master suite. Or are you afraid you’ll be overcome with passion and attack me?”

  More than anything she’d love to turn the table on the big jerk right now.

  So why not? Considering his libido, it would be equally torturous for him to sleep in the same room with her. And there was no doubt she still aroused him. Nick had ogled her all evening with that familiar, heated look glittering in his gaze.

  She glanced down at his straining fly, and a smug smile of her own tugged at her mouth.

  Her ex-husband was a hedonist to the core—not a stupid masochist. If she left the ball in his court, he’d undoubtedly choose sleeping in the family room over tossing and turning all night in frustration. And if he was dumb enough to choose her bedroom, he’d be sorry Dani ever suggested it. This way—she chuckled to herself—she wouldn’t be cast as the villain.

  “I really don’t have time for this nonsense, Nicky. I need to get a little more work done.” She spun on her heels and headed for the stairs. “Sleep wherever you like.”

  ~*~

  “So what do you think, pal?” Nick let Chewie back into the house two-and-a-half hours later and locked the French doors to the deck. “Should I sleep down here with you or brave the cold war upstairs?”

  Even though sharing a room with Sam again would be an outstanding start toward patching things up with her, he didn’t relish lying awake all night with a hard-on. Then again, if her resistance weakened, it would be a very short trip from the convertible sofa to her bed.

  The dog leapt onto the sheet-covered couch and stretched out, settling his head on his paws.

  “I guess that answers my question.”

  He turned off all the lights, checked the lock on the front door, and climbed the wide staircase. Light still peaked under the crack of Dani’s door at the rear of the house, so he tapped lightly.

  “Venido adentro.”

  Smiling, he entered her room which had been redecorated in varying shades of....“Purple?”

  “Yeah. What’s wrong with purple?”

  “It’s fine.” He chuckled, recalling Sam’s teenage goth period when everything she owned was black. “It’s almost eleven o’clock. Lights out.”

  Dani shoved her feet under the covers. “So are you sleepin’ in Mom’s room?”

  “It looks that way.” He kissed her forehead and flipped off her bedside lamp. “Te amo mucho, Princesa.”

  “Yeah, right.” She snuggled into her pillow as he turned to leave. “Daddy,” she called in an uncertain voice, stopping him. “You are gonna stay, now that you’re home, aren’t you?”

  His throat tightened at her pleading tone. “Yeah, baby. If your mom will let me.”

  Dani released a breath in a whoosh. “She might not admit it, but she still loves you.”

  “What about you?” he asked. When Dani’s shoulders lifted in a noncommittal shrug, he smiled. “I’m glad you think your mom still cares.” Sam’s feelings for him were something of which he’d never been certain. Still, he liked his child believing her mother had been as deeply in love with him as he’d been with her when they’d conceived Dani.

  He’d often wondered if Sam would have slept with him that night if his brother hadn’t been so overeager and clueless about girls. He had no doubt she would’ve married Justin if she’d been carrying his brother’s baby rather than his.

  After closing his daughter’s door, he leaned back against it and let the memories wash over him. Sam had always blamed herself for their recklessness, but it had been completely his fault.

  The evening of Justin and Samantha’s graduation, his brother had brought her home from a party they’d attended in time to make the strict eleven-thirty curfew her aunt had set. After dropping Sam off, Justin stopped in Nick’s bedroom to brag and mooch some condoms.

  Apparently two of the hottest girls in Justin’s class had pulled him
aside at the party and begged him to drive them to the Jersey shore to go skinny-dipping.

  “These two chicks are best friends,” his brother explained. “They do everything together.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “They wanted to know if I’d be able to warm them both up after we finish swimming.”

  “Sammy won’t be happy if you do,” Nick said, muting the television on top of his dresser.

  “Screw, Sam,” Justin snapped—something he never would’ve suggested if he’d been privy to Nick’s fantasies. “If she cared at all about me, she’d grow up and quit teasin’ me. We’ve been dating for over five months, and the most she’s let me do is cop a feel. Tonight, when I unhooked her bra, she freaked.”

  Nick nearly crowed with joy to hear his sweet Sam still hadn’t let his horn-dog brother get past second base. “Give her some time,” he told his brother. “Her bitch of an aunt probably scared the crap outta her and convinced her she’d burn in hell if she let you touch her. Sammy’s simply not ready.”

  “I’m sick of waiting.” Justin stepped into the hallway and returned with several towels from the linen closet. “I love her, but I’m sure as hell not passin’ up a chance at a threesome on the beach.”

  Nick supposed that would be tough for any guy to turn down.

  “Or maybe more,” Justin amended. “The girls said they have a couple of friends they work with at the mall who might want to come too,” he explained, failing to notice his inadvertent smutty pun. “By the way, would you loan me a few bucks for gas?”

  Nick heaved a sigh as he snatched his wallet off the night table and handed his brother a twenty-dollar bill. “Have you found a new job yet? You may have earned a scholarship to Temple, Brainiac, but that won’t cover your living expenses. And as soon as I hit the road with my band this fall, I won’t be here for you to mooch gas money—”

  “I’m on top of it, okay? One of the girls said she’ll put in a good word for me with her boss.” Justin pulled several rubbers out of Nick’s sock drawer. “I assume you won’t need these tonight.”

  “Make sure you replace ‘em. I’m not your free condom distributor.”

  “As soon as I get my first paycheck. Gracias, hermano.” Justin stuffed the square packets into his jeans’ pocket. “I won’t be home tonight, so cover for me with Mama in the morning.” As usual, their mother, a nurse’s aide, was working the graveyard shift at the nursing home. Justin pulled a quilt off the shelf in Nick’s closet and dashed down the hall with the comforter under his arm, yelling, “I’ll be damned if I’m goin’ to college a virgin!”

  Nick did a double take as the front door slammed.

  Whoa. He’d been getting lucky since ninth grade. Nothing could’ve stunned him more than to learn his lecherous eighteen-year-old brother was still cherry. Although, it explained all the hours the butt-head spent in the shower.

  The sound of water running at the front of the house dragged Nick from the flood of memories, and he headed toward the master suite.

  He would love to change a lot of what he’d done in his lifetime. But comforting Sam when she’d shown up looking for Justin only an hour after he’d left for his little beach party wasn’t one of them. Nor was letting things get out of control and making love to her three more times before sunrise.

  The only thing he regretted about that night was his brother had taken every damn condom.

  CHAPTER 6

  Samantha replaced the toothpaste in the cabinet, tightened the towel around her, and left the steamy bathroom. She turned to take a clean nightgown out of her dresser and gasped at the sight of Nick stretched out on the king-sized mattress wearing nothing but a pair of thin knit boxer briefs.

  He must have been doing intensive workouts in California, because no amount of bedtime aerobics could give a man a six-pack like he’d developed. Nick’s build had always turned women’s heads, but now his chiseled muscles were....hoo-boy. Plain spectacular.

  Her nipples swelled at the sight of such raw masculinity occupying her bed. She swallowed hard.

  “What’s the matter?” His eyebrows drew together.

  “What happened to you using the sofa bed?”

  “You told me to sleep wherever I like.” He shrugged. “I like here.”

  There went her theory about him not being a stupid masochist.

  “I’m not trying to be difficult, Sammy, honest. The sofa bed’s mattress isn’t any longer than the couch downstairs,” he explained. “You don’t want me to sleep with my feet hanging off the bed, do you?”

  “There you go again, trying to make me feel guilty. I hate when you do that.”

  “That’s not my intention. But if you’re feeling guilty, then maybe—”

  “Fine. Stay there. The sofa bed is more than long enough for me.” She stomped into the bedroom’s alcove and flipped the back of the couch down.

  “But I don’t want to push you out of your bed.” He tossed a pillow to her and stood to help her pull the fitted sheet onto the sofa mattress.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be quite comfortable over here.”

  “Now I feel guilty. I really don’t mind sharing, and I don’t need that entire king-size bed to myself.”

  “Well, I do mind.” If he liked being tortured, who was she to keep him from suffering? She’d make sure he didn’t get a wink of sleep.

  She picked up her body lotion from the dresser and proceeded to slather herself. When her towel accidently slipped and dropped to the floor, she allowed him to take a good, long look before slowly bending to pick it up. Stealing a peek at him, she bit back a smile at the tent his soldier erected in his shorts and the ravenous look on his face.

  Apparently it made no difference whether she was slender or pudgy. In Nick’s eyes, a naked woman was still, well....naked.

  She pulled open her dresser drawer and selected his favorite black satin nightgown. She’d rarely worn it while they were married—and not at all since—due to its plunging neckline and back, not to mention the provocative slit. The gown had always clung to her, but now, on her fuller figure, it fit as if she’d slipped into a second skin.

  “Damn, querida, you don’t play fair.”

  “What?” She stared down at her lush cleavage, feigning innocence. “You can’t possibly be tempted by my chubby body.”

  “Chubby? Hardly.” He snorted. “If you ask me, you have room for a few more pounds.”

  “Where? On my big toe?” She pinched her butt, proving how much flab had taken root on her behind. “Look at this.”

  “I am. And I like what I see. Your breasts are....well, let’s say you’ve never been more tempting than you are right now.” He flopped back down on the bed, propping himself on one elbow. “To be honest, you were always so frail and delicate I worried about hurting you.”

  “Is that so?” She release a soft snort “I don’t recall you ever holding back.”

  “You’d be surprised, Abejita.” His mouth curled in a seductive smile.

  “Oh? I suppose I simply imagined our headboard cracking the plaster after my aunt’s funeral.”

  “Okay, so I got a little carried away that night. But if I’d taken you the way I wanted to, we would’ve broken a lot more than a hundred-plus-year-old wall. If you have any doubt, I’ll be happy to demonstrate the fullest extent of my, uhhh....enthusiasm.”

  She’d never forgotten the wild passion he’d unleashed after discovering his brother holding and comforting her at her Aunt Caroline’s wake. Her aunt had broken her hip only a few weeks before and developed a multitude of serious complications that led to her death. Ironically enough, one of the hardest months in Sam’s life had culminated with her most memorable night.

  Nick’s overwhelming need to brand her and remind her she was his wife made her feel as though he might have truly fallen in love with her. Sadly, in the bright light of day, Nick admitted he’d always known his brother would’ve offered to marry her if he hadn’t.

  Any idiot could see her husband’s ardor and jea
lousy had been motivated by mere sibling rivalry. Her throat tightened at how badly it would break her heart if she let him make love to her like that again now.

  His gaze lingered on the swell of her breasts, and his pupils dilated, turning his dark eyes almost black.

  “I said you could sleep wherever you like.” She spread the top sheet over the sofa bed. “I don’t recall issuing any other invitations.”

  “It’s not too late,” he rasped in a hoarse whisper.

  “It was too late over a year ago,” she said, reminding him of their divorce and sliding into the alcove’s bed.

  He cocked his head and frowned. “So then why put on that come-and-get-it nightgown instead of your usual T-shirt?”

  “This is what I’ve been wearing, lately,” she fibbed, knowing full well he would assume Adam was responsible for her reversion to the sexy nighties she’d worn when she and Nick were first married. “Since Dani’s outgrown her need to sleep in here, I might as well use the lingerie I bought every Valentine’s Day to surprise you.”

  “Why bother, if there’s no one here to appreciate it?”

  “I don’t need a man to enjoy wearing silk and satin.” She fluffed the pillow. “Now that I’ve hit my sexual prime, I’m feeling extra sensual.” Biting back a smirk, she dragged her fingertips down the center of her body, arching her back in a demonstration of how easily she could arouse herself.

  For a split second, Nick’s mouth gaped like a trout’s on a hook. “It figures you would ditch me when you were about to peak,” he grumbled. “Was that why you divorced me, Sam? You were too proud to give in on the birth control issue, so you had to free yourself up to enjoy your so-called sexual prime?”

  Somewhere along the way, her plan to tease him had backfired.

  “That’s right!” she snapped. “And I’ve loved every minute of it. Haven’t you noticed all the notches in my headboard?”

  “If you’re that eager and available, I have a blue-ribbon hard-on that’s going to waste.” He rolled to his back to give her a better view of the two-story teepee in his shorts. “Whaddaya, say, Sammy?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “How about a wild ride with El Capitán for old time’s sake?”