What She Forgot

by Tammy Falkner

  He spun and pushed me back against the wall of the shower. With his hands at my waist, he lifted me until we were eye to eye. Then he lifted his leg, shoved my right leg to the side, and hitched his knee between my legs until it held me up against the wall. We were eye to eye, and I could see his smile. It was a real smile, with the crease under his eye and everything.

  “I might be falling for you,” he said, his voice low and husky. He pressed his wet face against my neck and growled low in his throat. “Fuck, I know I’m falling for you.” He pressed tender lips against the side of my throat, and then lifted his head to look me in the eye. “It wasn’t what I wanted. To fall for you, I mean.” He shrugged, and he looked so boyish that I almost smiled. “It just happened.”

  “This was supposed to all be pretend.”

  He nudged me with his dick, which was hot and hard against my skin. “Does it feel pretend?”

  I looked down. His cock was bright purple. “No. It doesn’t feel pretend.” My voice sounded breathless, even to me.

  “That’s because it’s not. Nothing between us is pretend.” He lowered the leg that had been holding me up, his weight now the only thing holding me against the wall, and pushed my boy shorts to the side, and his dick pressed into the seam between my lower lips, not entering me, but skimming that sensitive bundle of nerves that instantly began to thump thump thump. He pulled his hips back, then slowly pushed forward, and I held tightly to his shoulders. My head fell back against the shower wall, and my eyes fell closed of their own accord. A whimper fell from my lips, just as a growl left his. They met in the air between us, the same way we were meeting. He thrust a little harder. A little faster. With a little more force, he slipped back and forth between my lower lips.

  “Say yes,” he murmured next to my ear, just before he took the lobe between his teeth and gave it a gentle tug.

  I didn’t even have to think. “Yes,” I said, and then he was inside me. I spread my thighs as he pushed into me in one hard, fast stroke. I cried out as he pushed all the way in, the base of his cock hard and big as I took all of him.

  He moaned loudly and hitched me higher, so I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding on tight, and he sank in so blissfully far that I was afraid I’d never be the same. Then he pulled out and pressed back in just as fast as the first time.

  “This might not take long,” he warned, his arms quivering as he held his palms against the wall of the shower on each side of me. He moved inside me like a dream, like he would never stop.

  He tugged my shirt down, tearing the drenched fabric a little in his haste. “Sorry,” he muttered, and then he latched onto my bare nipple. He sucked it hard. I should have known that sex with Will would not be like sex with other men. This was different, and I didn’t know why.

  “Get out of your own head,” he said, and he lifted his head long enough to kiss me. “Stay here with me.” He slid his hand between the wall and the back of my head, cradling my skull as he fucked me, sliding in and out, in and out, in and out. “Are you with me?” he asked quietly, staring into my eyes.

  “I’m here. I’m still here.”

  “I need you to be with me. The whole time.”

  He tilted his body so that the base of his cock hit the tender nerves in front of the place where we were joined. “Oh, God,” I whispered as my eyes fell closed.

  He chuckled. “My name is Will.”

  My eyes flew open, meeting his. “I know who you are.”

  He thrust hard inside me again. “Do you?” He stared into my eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know who I am?” This time, his voice was harsh. A growl. A moan.

  “Yes.”

  “I need for you to come,” he said, his voice guttural.

  “Make me.” I laughed, and my walls clamped down around him.

  He groaned. “I can’t last much longer. Can I come inside you?”

  And then I broke. I came apart. “Yes.” I shattered. My orgasm washed over me like a warm wave of feeling. Like it would never stop.

  “Thank God,” he growled. And then he came, too. His cock twitched inside me. His thrusts slowed as my own tremors started to ease. He breathed heavily into my ear. His hands clasped my butt, as I was still wrapped around him like a Velcro monkey. “That wasn’t how I wanted that to go,” he said quietly, his breaths heavy and hard as they brushed my face.

  “What do you mean?” I unwrapped my legs from around his waist and he let me stand on my own two shaky legs, but he didn’t let me step far away from him. And I didn’t want to. For the first time ever in my life, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay. I wanted to be close to him. But I wasn’t sure why. It was confusing and awesome all at the same time.

  “I wanted it to be special. I’m sorry. I just grabbed you and pulled you in.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “I was willing.”

  His head jerked up.

  “I wanted it.”

  His eyes narrowed, like he didn’t believe me.

  “You even asked me for consent.” I laughed. “I consented. Explicitly.”

  “Consent is sexy as hell,” he mused.

  I’d never been with a man who asked me if I was sure. If I was with him. If I wanted it. If I felt the same way he did.

  I peeled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor where it landed with a splat. I wasn’t wearing a bra. I hooked my thumbs in my boy shorts and pulled them down. They stuck to my shins as I tried to step out of them. He reached out and held my elbow, keeping me steady.

  “I should have made it better.” He actually looked worried.

  “If you’d made me come any harder, I’d have died,” I said with a laugh.

  My body felt loose and lazy, but I still stepped under his shower spray and wet my hair. “Can I have some shampoo?” I pointed to the tiny shelf behind him where I’d left my bottles of shampoo and conditioner.

  The corners of his lips tilted up in a grin. “Can I stay and watch you?”

  I shrugged and started to get cleaned up. He leaned against the wall and watched me, his eyes skimming my body. For some reason, this seemed more intimate than the sex we’d just had. This was just…more. It didn’t make sense.

  “Ask it,” he prompted. “What confuses you?”

  “All of it,” I admitted.

  He made a humming sound that I could barely hear over the shower.

  When I was done, he took the soap from me and washed his dick.

  “You shave your balls,” I suddenly said, when I noticed that he didn’t have hair down there.

  He laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked. But a grin tugged at my lips too.

  He palmed the top of my head and gave it a squeeze. “You make me happy.” He jerked me against him and kissed me on the lips.

  I’d never made anyone happy. “It feels funny,” I admitted.

  His brow furrowed as he wrapped me in a towel. Then he grabbed one for himself and wrapped it around his waist. “What feels funny?” Worry clouded his features. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “Shut up,” I said. “Men ask that when they want a compliment.”

  He huffed out a noise. “This man asks that when he wants to be sure he didn’t get too rough.”

  I stepped forward and lifted onto my tiptoes so I could kiss him. He kissed me back. “You did it right.” I laughed. “You know you did it right.”

  I knew he did it right. But what I didn’t know was what would happen now.

  Chapter 34

  Clark

  I had the distinct impression that I’d just made a huge mistake. One minute I’d been taking a shower so that I could get the scent of her off my skin, and the next she was standing there in the doorway thrusting her wrist toward my face. And then I’d just grabbed her. That was the part where it all went wrong. She’d come to me for answers. Not for me to fuck her.

  I’d moved too fast, and now I regretted it.

  I didn’t reg
ret the sex. The sex was perfect. But I did regret doing it at the wrong time, mainly because I had a feeling that she wasn’t ready for it. She wasn’t ready for what I wanted.

  “My legs are still shaking,” she said quietly. It was a vulnerable thing for her to say, and her confession settled warm and soft inside me. Warm and soft and brutal all at once. I chose to say nothing in response, although my legs still felt like jelly too. I was weak in the knees over a woman. For fuck’s sake.

  She jerked a thumb toward the hallway. “I’m going to go and get dressed.”

  “Put on something you can run in,” I called out.

  She leaned back so I could see her face in the doorway. “Why?”

  “I thought maybe we could go to the gym.” I patted my middle. “I’m getting soft.”

  Her brow quirked. “Nothing felt soft to me.” Then she grinned and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me a puddle of goo on the floor.

  I was gone for her. I’d known it before the sex. I’d known it yesterday when we were playing paintball. She’d gone after me with such enthusiasm, and she had no remorse when she beat me. In fact, she’d gloated, and I’d loved every second of it. I’d loved not letting her win but having her do it anyway. She’d taken premeditated risks, and they’d paid off.

  And I was taking a premeditated risk now. And I was certain it would pay off.

  She came back around the corner, her hair pulled into a ponytail, and she wore a t-shirt and pair of tight, stretchy pants. I let my gaze drag slowly up and down her body.

  She laid a hand on her stomach. “Is this okay?” she asked, glancing down at herself.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful that you take my breath away.”

  She scoffed. “I’m in workout clothes.”

  “Crazy, right?” I replied. She picked up a pair of rolled up socks I’d left on the dresser and threw them at my head. I caught them and sat down to put them on my feet. I was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt. “You ready?” I asked. I got to my feet.

  But suddenly, she took three steps and stopped in front of me. She inhaled deep and long, and then the words rushed past her lips like she’d never be able stop talking, even if she wanted to.

  “I don’t know what this thing is that we’re doing, but I know that I like spending time with you. I had a wonderful time on our date last night. It was everything I’d ever hoped a first date could be. And then the movie last night was even better. And I’m still not sure that I like waking up all sticky and sweaty with somebody pressed against me, but I think I can do it if it’s you. It’s you, Will. You make it seem all right. And I know that telling you all this might make me seem weak, but if I didn’t tell you, I’d be the worst kind of simpering female. I’ve never been that. And I’ll never be that. And that seems to be okay with you, so I want to keep being me, and I want to tell you that I have no idea what’s going on. I do, however, like what’s happening.” She stopped and finally took a breath. “I just wanted to say that.”

  She took a step back, but I grabbed her elbows and pulled her against me. She gasped, but she didn’t fight me. Instead, she softened, which felt wonderful. She’d once seemed so hard. But she wasn’t. She was tough. There was a huge difference in the two.

  I lifted my finger and ran it around the collar of her shirt. “Where are your pearls?”

  She looked down, her face coloring ever so slightly. “I took them off.”

  “Why did you take them off?” I felt like I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear her say it.

  “I didn’t need them anymore.” She lifted her wrist and ran her thumb beneath the bracelet I’d made for her. “Now I understand why Lynn didn’t want to share her necklace with me. Because if anyone ever tried to take this from me, I’d have to kill him.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” I leaned down and kissed her, and she kissed me back. Her lips smelled like cherries, and I lifted my head, rubbed my lips together, and licked them. “I’ve spent hours thinking about how you would taste like cherries. But you don’t.”

  She laughed. “What do I taste like?”

  I couldn’t describe it if I wanted to. She just tasted like Shelly. “Are you ready to go work out?”

  She smacked my ass and then walked out of the room.

  I pulled my baseball cap down over my forehead and followed her.

  Everyone watched Shelly at the gym. She worked out the same way she did everything else—with the utmost concentration. She ran on the treadmill until she’d built up a heavy sweat, and then she went from machine to machine, working her thighs, her abs, her arms, and everything in between.

  She had men coming to offer to help her, or to spot for her, every few minutes. “No, thank you,” she said. She didn’t say anything more. Just “no, thank you.” They walked away dejected and deflated.

  I threw a towel at her and she caught it in her fist. “You don’t even see it, do you?” I asked. I shook my head and bit back a smile.

  “See what?” she asked as she wiped her face. She was a sweaty mess. Her hair hung in damp hunks around her forehead, her cheeks were flushed, her skin was blotchy, and I’d never seen her look more beautiful. Apparently, everything she did was beautiful. Even sweating. I was done for. Gone. I’d heard tales of men who became fools over the right woman. But I’d never done it, not even with Marley.

  “Men love you. Hell, a couple of women, too.”

  “Men do not love me. They want to fuck me.” She wiped her arms down as we stopped to fill bottles with water and drink.

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Men don’t want a woman like me.”

  I stopped guzzling my water and stared at her over the rim of the bottle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Most of the men I’ve met don’t know what to do with someone like me. I’m opinionated, short-tempered, I have no filter, and I end up intimidating the hell out of them. They give up and I never hear from them again.” She shrugged like it was no big deal.

  “And when they’re gone, have you ever missed any of them?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why would I?”

  “Companionship. Fun times. You never wanted to share that with anyone?”

  “No,” she said succinctly.

  “And now?”

  “Are you itching for a compliment, William Clark?” She grinned at me.

  I shrugged. “Maybe a little reassurance.” Maybe I needed a little.

  “I have never been in a relationship. I have never wanted to be in one. I don’t even know what being in a relationship means. But this thing we’re doing…” She motioned from me to herself and back to me again. “I like it. I like what we’re doing. Do we have to define it?”

  “We don’t have to define anything.”

  She lifted her wrist in the air. “I love my bracelet.” She smiled at me.

  I grinned. “I’m glad.”

  “So, is that enough?” she asked.

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her slowly toward me until our bodies touched. “One day, when you’re ready, I’d like a bracelet, too.” She went completely still as she tried to figure out what I meant. I knew when she understood, because she went soft against me.

  “Okay,” she whispered, and then she stepped onto her tiptoes and kissed me, and I could have sworn that half the men in the gym groaned in frustration as she did it.

  I wanted to yell out, “This one is mine, bitches!” But I still wasn’t sure if that was true. I wasn’t sure at all.

  Chapter 35

  Clark

  Every time I walked by Shelly at work, she blushed furiously, and it was an amazing sight to watch. Shelly discombobulated was a sight to behold. She was always so put-together, so in control. And even now, I knew she was in control of herself, but she was also at a loss about what we’d done this morning.

  “We probably need to have a talk,” I said loudly as I walked from my office into hers. She turned to face me, her brows knitting. She had lift
ed her hair into one of those weird ponytails and secured it with a pencil.

  “What do we need to talk about?” she asked, immediately going back to what she was doing.

  I heaved in a deep breath and let my words rush out all at once. “We need to talk about this morning.”

  “What about it?” she asked absently.

  “Shelly, would you please close your computer and look at me?”

  “Not right now, Will,” she said. “I’m busy.”

  “It’s important.” I crossed my arms and tried to glare at her.

  She pointed to her computer screen. “So is this.”

  “What are you working on?” I walked closer so I could look over her shoulder. She had police reports spread out across her desk. I looked at a few of the names. “You’re still working on the vigilante justice killer?”

  She glanced up at me. “Well, that’s what you told me to work on.” She went just as quickly back to what she was doing.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Oh, I’m done. I was just compiling all the data so I could show you.”

  I perched on the edge of her desk. “You’re done? What does that mean?”

  “It means I know who it is.” She typed furiously, and then hit a button that made the printer go crazy. She motioned for me to pass the papers from the printer to her with an impatient fling of her hand. I grinned and did it.

  “So who is it?” In my head, I knew there was no way that Shelly had any idea who the vigilante killer was. It was too abstract. We didn’t have enough information.

  She made a stack of three pages with women’s pictures. The one on the top of the stack was Marley.

  I stared at it. “You’re grasping at straws. What does Marley have to do with this?”

  “Marley doesn’t have anything to do with it. I’m simply decoding facts. It’s all here in the numbers.”

  I scrubbed a hand down my face. “You seriously think Marley had something to do with this?”

  “I just said she doesn’t.” She waved a hand breezily in the air. “I know Marley didn’t have anything to do with it.” She fanned out the three pictures. “And it’s not Megan.” She pulled the third from the stack. “This is Riley. Riley James.”