Biting her lip, she took him deeper, but pain flared. She tensed against him, her pussy clutching tight, fighting his cock’s slow invasion. She started to lift up. His hands clamped down and he drove upward. She cried out as he forced her down on his cock, impaling her. Arching her back, she held still, her body working to accommodate him, torn between the need to move against him and the need to pull away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, staring up at her through slitted eyes. One hand left her hip, his fingers seeking out the stiff bud of her clit. “Damn it, I’m sorry…fuck, Bree, baby, you’re killing me…so fucking perfect…”
She hissed, her hips jerking back but there was no escape. His cock throbbed inside her pussy, stretching her. Undeterred, he stroked her clit, keeping his touch light, soft until need overcame the discomfort and she started to move against him. Falling forward, she braced her hands on the bed on either side of his head.
Heat…need…love threatened to swamp her, threatened to drown her. Words she knew she couldn’t say to him lodged in her throat, begging for release. In desperation, she slanted her mouth across his, kissing him, letting her body and her mouth do the talking for her.
His hand cradled the back of her head, the other gripped her hip, steadying her as they moved against each other. Her broken moans were muffled against his mouth.
Eventually, blind desire drowned out anything and everything but the pulse of his cock as he shafted her. His mouth moved greedily against hers, as though he were every bit as starved for her as she was for him.
She even let herself believe that. For a little while. Let herself believe it as she rode him to a climax that left her dazed, drained and utterly drunk on bliss.
Chapter Eight
Bree realized she was actually very good at suppressing her practical side.
That nagging, annoying bitch who kept whispering she really needed to talk things over with Colby and figure out exactly where they stood.
Suppressing her in favor of the giddy, lovelorn woman who took over every time Colby showed up on her doorstep, every time he called.
It wasn’t quite as easy to shut her up when she was working, or on the rare nights when he wasn’t sharing her bed. A few weeks had gone by before it dawned on her that he was at her house more often than he was home. Bit by bit, he seemed to be settling into her life and it felt so natural, felt so right that it just made it that much easier to ignore that nagging, practical bitch who wanted reality to intrude on Bree’s fantasy come to life.
What the hell did it matter that she didn’t know where she stood with him?
In that minute, it didn’t seem to matter at all. She sat at her breakfast bar, drinking steaming hot coffee and watching as he whipped up a couple of ham-and-cheese omelets. Her belly rumbled demandingly as the tantalizing aroma filled the air. By the time he slid one onto a plate and set it in front of her, Bree was all but drooling.
Regular sex sure as hell did a number on the appetite, she’d discovered. So much so that she had decided the other day that she was going to have to start running on a more regular basis and watch what she ate. Food was little more than a necessity for her, or so she’d thought, but between the way Colby moved in the bedroom and the way he moved in the kitchen, she’d discovered there was a lot more pleasure to a meal than she’d realized. Eating alone was depressing as hell. But put this man into the equation and meals took on a different slant.
“How busy is your schedule today?” he asked, settling across from her with his plate full of food.
He’d put on a little bit of the weight he’d lost over the past eighteen months. His cheeks no longer had that hollow look. It was probably her imagination, but he seemed pretty damn happy.
Focusing on the question, she shrugged and said, “Pretty light. Two clients this morning, one this afternoon, but I’ll probably head out early from that one. Pretty standard stuff and my guys can handle it without me.” She cut into her omelet and popped a bite into her mouth. The cheese ended up burning her tongue but it was so damn good that she didn’t care and cut off another bite, eating it just as quickly. “I’ve got a pretty busy schedule for the next month or so, though. Starting Monday. Our bid was accepted for the new subdivision going up on the hill and they’re about ready for us to get started on the grounds.”
This job was going to hopefully give her the money she needed to expand her business a little. She needed more room, an office that wasn’t run out of her garage, and more men. If things went well over the next month or so, she’d have it. She even had her eye on a place and had been juggling figures in her head to make sure she could afford it. Right now, if she cleaned out her savings and ate mac and cheese for a few months, she could do it, but she’d have nothing left over. Bree didn’t like taking those sorts of risks, so when her bid was accepted, she’d been ecstatic. She could buy the property, hire two new guys and maybe even have the money for some new equipment if she was careful.
Taking a sip of her coffee, she studied him from across the table and asked, “What about you?”
He grimaced. “I finished up that book. Got to put a proposal together and shoot it off to Angela. Assuming she hasn’t forgotten who I am.”
Bree grinned at him. “I’m pretty sure she hasn’t forgotten your name yet.”
“I disappeared for more than a year. I’m probably not ranking high on her list of favorite authors.” He shrugged and took another bite of his omelet, but she could tell he was worried.
That was good, though. At least, she thought it was. He’d lost interest in his career once it had become clear that Alyssa wasn’t going to beat the cancer. Seeing him worrying about it was a positive sign in Bree’s mind.
“I don’t know how the writer/agent deal works but if she had problems with you taking some time away, wouldn’t she have to let you know she was going to…I dunno… Can she fire you?”
Colby grinned at her. “No, but she could drop me from her list of authors. And I don’t really see her doing that because of this but that doesn’t mean she’s going to be all that thrilled with me either.”
“Colby, your wife died. Only a heartless bitch wouldn’t understand that you might need some time to deal.”
As soon as she said it, she wished she could yank it back. She’d been so fucking careful not to put Alyssa between them like that and then she had to go and shove her foot in her mouth. Hell, not just her foot—halfway past her ankle, probably.
His smile faded and he laid the fork down, bracing his elbows on the table. “I know she’ll understand but that doesn’t mean I’m necessarily going to get my career back on track. Authors disappear all the time. All it takes is not getting a book out often enough.”
Bree slid off the stool and went around to stand behind him. Draping her arms over his shoulders, she pressed her cheek to his. “Readers haven’t forgotten about you, Colby. They want more from you. Your agent’s a smart lady. It will be okay.”
She wanted to say more but her cell phone started to ring. Recognizing the tune, she rolled her eyes and grabbed it from the counter. It was Joey, one of the college kids who helped part-time throughout spring, summer and fall. He was a great worker, people liked him, he rarely complained but he was one of those people who things just happened to.
A minute later, she disconnected and looked up and found Colby watching her over his coffee cup. “Flat tire.” She grimaced. “I’ve gotta go pick him up. The jobs today will take twice as long if he isn’t around.”
“Still think you’ll get done fairly early?” he asked, reaching out and catching her hand. His thumb stroked along the inside of her wrist as he lifted it up and pressed a kiss to her palm. He hadn’t shaved and his roughened cheek rasped against her flesh.
“Should be. Why?”
He shrugged and tugged her to stand between his widespread thighs. He had one bare foot braced on the floor, the other on the rung of the stool. Wearing nothing but his jeans, he looked entirely too good to wal
k away from. His eyes were still heavy with sleep and the early morning sun filtering through the window did amazing things to his body. She found herself fantasizing about sliding her fingers through the hair on his chest, tugging just a little before she continued on downward and unzipped his jeans.
Fantasizing to the point that she was practically drooling and she hadn’t heard a damn thing he’d said, she realized, jerking her eyes up to his face. A sexy smile curled his lips as she said dumbly, “Huh?”
“I was thinking maybe I could take you out tonight. Something nice.”
“How nice?”
He grinned. “Nice as in I’m going to see if I can find a tie, maybe talk you into wearing a dress…and not wearing any panties.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. Heat curled in her belly. “How does me not wearing any panties have anything to do with how nice a place you take me to?”
He slid a hand between her thighs and cupped her, rubbing the heel of his palm against her. “Well, I don’t guess it would be fair if I said I’d only take you out if you leave the panties off but it sure as hell would be fun for me to think about you being naked under some sexy black dress.”
She cocked a brow at him, tried for a cool smile but ended up whimpering as he pressed his finger against her, pressing through the layers of her shorts and panties. “I think I can find something black and sexy. And panties are overrated.”
He hauled her against him and kissed her, quick and rough. When he let go, they were both breathing hard and heavy. “Clothing is overrated, if you ask me. Especially considering how damn good you look without any.”
Colby stood in the doorway, staring into the room.
It looked bare.
Over the past month, he’d slowly been getting rid of all of Alyssa’s things. All of her clothes had been donated to a local church group. Other things, like books, her knick-knacks, the fairies and dragons she’d collected had been boxed up and given to DAV.
All that remained in their room now was the furniture. A guy who worked for Bree was taking the bedroom set. He was coming over tomorrow to pick it all up and then the room would be empty.
It was hard, but not as hard as he’d expected. Instead of a driving grief, he’d been able to go through her things with a sad sort of acceptance. His wife was gone. In the past month, he hadn’t even heard the whisper of her voice and he supposed it was because he had finally come around to accepting it—and getting back to some sort of life.
Life.
Yeah, he had a life again and it was actually looking a hell of a lot better than he could have expected. Better than he had even wanted, in all honesty.
He was falling in love with Bree. It was a slow, lazy drift, completely different from the way Alyssa had danced into his heart back when they were still kids.
But he’d mostly expected that. Everything with Bree was different.
The friendship that had always been between them had grown into something else and he could even admit, without feeling too guilty, some of it had started before he’d even left. The way she’d been there with Alyssa as she’d gotten more and more ill, the way she’d stood by him, a silent source of comfort during those last days. It had planted something inside him.
Falling in love again wasn’t something he’d planned on.
Wasn’t even something he’d wanted. The pain of losing somebody was enough to make most people leery, he guessed.
But it had crept up on him. Colby was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. Life was giving him a second chance at happiness and he wasn’t going to walk away from it.
Well, there were still a few unanswered questions there. Like how Bree felt, for one. He thought he knew, but he needed to know for sure. Needed to hear her say it. Tonight, he was going to see if he couldn’t get her to do just that.
Slowly, he stepped into the room, staring at the bed. He’d shared this bed with Alyssa for years. He’d saved this part for last, determined to work his way up to it, but now he realized he hadn’t needed to do that. He stripped the comforter away, folding it neatly and laying it in a box by the door. If the guy wanted the sheets and blankets, he was welcome to them, otherwise Colby would just drop them by DAV with the last of the books he still had to box up.
He stripped off the pillow cases, the top sheet, adding them to the box. Reaching under the mattress, he tugged the gathered corner of the bottom sheet. On Alyssa’s side, near the top, he did the same. His fingers brushed against something. His heart skipped a beat as he grabbed it and pulled it out.
Her journal. He knew what it was even before he saw it. There was a box full of them up in the attic and that was one thing he had no idea what to do with. He couldn’t just give her journals away, but throwing them out didn’t seem right. One thing Alyssa had done faithfully was write in it almost every day. Even the day before she died, she’d written something in it. Granted, it took her forever to finish an entry but when he offered to write it down for her, she’d always refused.
He hadn’t ever looked inside them but now, he found himself opening it, staring down at her familiar, flowery-looking script. Time ticked away from him as he read. The first entry was in February, the last one the day before she died. Most of what she wrote had his eyes burning. How she’d been so afraid most days, often angry. But the last few weeks were different. The entries were shorter, not quite as descriptive, but she’d been so weak that he understood why she didn’t go into as much detail.
He reached the last entry, but before he started to read, he closed his eyes and tipped his head back. When he felt a little steadier, he started to read. But three lines in, he wished he hadn’t.
Wished he had just thrown this journal in with the others or even in the garbage.
I got Colby to leave for a little while. Bree’s on her way over and I need some privacy for this. Can’t exactly have him lurking around while I ask this, right? I don’t think he’d understand me telling her that I want her to hook up with him.
That was all he read.
All he needed to read.
Snapping it closed, he stood up and started for the door, rage churning inside him, a sick sense of betrayal threatening to drive him insane. Bree—
Fuck.
He stopped and looked down at the journal in his hand. Abruptly, he turned and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and fell to the ground. He almost left it there. Almost. He stormed down the hall, torn between just leaving again and never coming back and finding Bree, demanding that she confess the truth. That the past month had been a fucking lie. She’d slept with him, spent time with him because it had been the final wish her best friend asked of her.
He was going to be sick.
But he stopped in his tracks, turned, went back and got the journal.
He had to see the look on her face when she read it, had to see how she reacted when he asked her to explain what in hell the past month had been about. He’d been falling in love with her.
She was fucking him out of some bizarre loyalty, maybe mixed with a little bit of pity.
What really sucked was that he almost could have handled the pity. He fell in love with a friend, no reason she couldn’t do the same but he knew it wasn’t pity that drove her. How far would she have let it go? How far did her loyalty to Alyssa go?
He didn’t know the answer to that.
But he sure as hell was going to find out.
Sexy dress.
Check.
No panties.
Check.
Hair done.
Check…and she’d actually spent some time on it too.
Makeup.
Check.
Only thing missing was Colby.
Even after an hour had passed and he wasn’t there, she wasn’t worried. If she knew a damn thing about him, he was probably at the house, debating about the proposal he’d mentioned. She basically knew what one was and she also knew that he would drive himself crazy trying to get every last word exactly ri
ght. Which meant she just might need to go and get him, otherwise another two hours could pass before he bothered to check the time.
She got her purse, slid her feet into a pair of black heels and headed out. A breeze was blowing and she flushed as it blew the skirt of dress over her bare rump. She wasn’t the type to go without panties and the feel of the air caressing her under the skirt was both discomfiting and erotic.
The drive to the house was quick. His car, that junky looking clunker he had yet to get rid of, was parked in front of the house. It was getting late but the only light on inside the house was the one in his office. With a grin, she shook her head and headed up the stairs. The front door was unlocked. She didn’t bother knocking as she slipped inside and called his name.
No answer.
She frowned, pushed a hand through her hair, unconsciously messing up the style she’d spent nearly forty-five minutes on. Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked to the office. He was in there all right but he wasn’t working. He was sitting at the desk. As she stepped inside, his gaze cut to her, his eyes hard and cold.
“Hey.” Licking her lips, she took a few steps toward him, although something inside her whispered a warning.
He didn’t say anything.
The black slip dress she wore seemed terribly inadequate now. She was cold, goose bumps roughing up her flesh. Her palms had gone damp and automatically, she smoothed them down her skirt. “Something wrong?”
In response, he tossed something he’d been holding onto his desk. Bree frowned, cocking her head. It was a journal, an embossed leather cover…recognition struck. Alyssa’s journal. Bree had seen it at a street fair and bought a couple of them, one for herself, the other for her best friend’s birthday. Bree’s was at home, tucked inside her night stand, a few scattered entries, either from a really bad day when she just needed to vent or cry or rage, or a really good day that she just had to commit to paper.
Alyssa had been almost religious about her journal writing though.
Something cold settled in the pit of her belly as she picked up the journal.
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