Baby: MacAllister-Made

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Baby: MacAllister-Made Page 2

by Joan Elliott Pickart


  “Not bad,” Richard said, nodding in approval. “Not bad at all. Remind me to put my rubber bands in the fridge. No, forget it. You’ll write yourself a note to remind yourself to remind me, then you’ll lose the note.”

  “Yep.” Brenda laughed, then emptied her glass in three swallows. “Very, very smooth wine. It’s warming me right down to my toes.” She raised her feet and wiggled them, causing the oversize socks to slip off and land in a heap on the floor. “Did you bring some trivia from Kansas City?”

  “Indeed I did, my poor sick pal,” he said.

  Richard picked up the socks, folded them neatly, set them on the coffee table, then slid one arm across Brenda’s shoulders. She nestled close to him, patting her nose as she settled into a more comfortable position.

  “Ready for trivia, compliments of Kansas City?” Richard said.

  “I certainly am,” Brenda said, nodding, “but would you fill my glass first, please?”

  “Nope. You can have one inch more and that’s it. Let’s not push our luck with the mixing of wine and antibiotics, Bren. It worries me.”

  “One more inch is fine,” she said. “I’m mellowing out already as it is.”

  Richard poured a carefully measured amount of wine into Brenda’s glass, then moved back again.

  “Okay,” he said. “Here comes the trivia. May I have a drum roll, please, ma’am? This is much better than your frozen rubber bands.”

  “Forget the drum.”

  “Right. Ms. Henderson, I hereby inform you that there are 293 ways to make change for a dollar.”

  Richard emptied his glass, placed it on the coffee table, then turned his head and dropped a quick kiss on Brenda’s nose.

  “How about that trivia, kid?” he said. “Kind of knocks you out, doesn’t it? Leaves you speechless?” He paused. “Cancel that part. Nothing would leave you speechless. You’ll still be expressing your opinion about something when you knock on the pearly gates.”

  “You’re probably right about that.” Brenda laughed, then hiccuped.

  “So? How did you like the dollar bill trivia?”

  “Super,” she said, nodding. “Definitely beats my keeping rubber bands in the veggie crisper.” She leaned forward and kissed Richard on the cheek. “You win this round, no doubt about it.”

  “Good for me,” Richard said, then stifled a yawn. “Man, I’m beat. I put in sixteen-and eighteen-hour days in Kansas, then came home and got the shaft from Betty. Life really stinks at times.”

  “Richard, her name was Beverly. Beverly, not Betty.”

  “Oh, yeah… Beverly,” he said, then frowned. “Oh, well, easy come, easy go. Do I believe that? No. Do I believe that sometimes life really stinks? Yes.”

  “Hey, don’t be gloomy,” Brenda said. “You just won high marks for your trivia. That’s very important, you know. Yep, that’s a biggy.”

  “What’s my prize?” he said, looking at her again.

  “You get to kiss the loser,” she said, then puckered her lips in an exaggerated fashion and closed her eyes.

  Richard planted a loud, smacking kiss on Brenda’s lips, then hesitated a fraction of a second and kissed her again, gently this time, so very softly.

  Brenda’s lips seemed to melt under Richard’s, parting slightly to allow his questing tongue to delve into her mouth to meet her tongue. She returned the sensual demands of his lips and tongue in total abandon.

  Brenda? Hello? she thought hazily. What were they doing? She and Richard MacAllister were kissing?

  Well, sure, they gave each other little pecks all the time and—but, oh, dear heaven, this was no best-buddy peck. This was a man kissing a woman, the real goods.

  They shouldn’t be doing this. Nope. No way. And she was going to end this kiss right now. Well, soon. Later. Next week.

  A soft purr of feminine pleasure escaped from Brenda’s throat as the kiss went on and on.

  MacAllister! Get a grip, Richard admonished himself. He didn’t kiss Brenda like this. Not like this. But, oh, man, she was responding to him totally, sending him up in flames. Her lips were so soft, so responsive, so— No, this was wrong. This was Brenda, his buddy, his best friend. This was crazy. This was…sensational.

  A masculine groan rumbled in Richard’s chest. He wrapped his arms around Brenda as her hands encircled his neck, their lips meeting once more. He slid down onto the plush cushions of the sofa without breaking the kiss, taking Brenda with him, then shifted them both until she was stretched out on top of him.

  The sash of Brenda’s robe had loosened a bit during the motions, and the material slid off one of her shoulders.

  Richard blinked, then blinked again as he saw her bare, dewy skin close to his somewhat unfocused eyes. He tightened his hold on Brenda, then rolled them over to place her beneath him, nearly toppling them off the sofa. He supported his weight on one forearm, then trailed nibbling kisses across her bare shoulder, then lower to where the material stopped just above her breast.

  “What…” Richard said, his voice gritty. “What do you have on underneath that thing?”

  “Hmm?” Brenda said dreamily. “Oh. I don’t have anything on. Nothing. I’d just gotten out of a long, warm, bubble bath when you knocked on the wall. I didn’t take the time to dress before I came over, just put on my old, comfy robe. I put the pea-soup over my birthday suit. How’s that for trivia?”

  “That’s not exactly trivia,” Richard said, shaking his head slightly. “Not even close. I’m going to kiss you again now, Brenda, because I really need to do that.”

  Richard lowered his head and kissed Brenda with such intensity that she felt as though he was stealing the very breath from her body. She was suffused with heat, and a pulsing began low within her, making it impossible to think, rendering her capable of only feeling, savoring…wanting.

  Wanting Richard.

  Burning with desire for Richard MacAllister.

  Nagging voices of disapproval sounded in Richard’s brain and he ignored them, allowed passion to consume his mind and aroused body.

  He was on fire.

  Nothing mattered but the intensity of his want and need for Brenda, which was far beyond anything he had ever experienced before. And she wanted him. Him. She felt so damn good, and tasted like fine wine, and smelled like flowers from the bubble bath she’d taken.

  She’d been naked in that bath, the zillions of bubbles dancing over her soft skin, clinging here, there, everywhere and…

  Richard untied the sash, then brushed away the heavy material of the robe, exposing the half of Brenda’s body that wasn’t covered with his own body.

  Bubbles here, he thought foggily, lowering his mouth to her breast, then laving the nipple to a taut bud with his tongue.

  “Mmm,” Brenda said.

  Richard traveled lower.

  And bubbles here, he mentally rambled, kissing the dewy skin on Brenda’s flat stomach. Lucky little bubbles, those bubbles.

  He returned to her breast, drawing the sweet bounty deep into his mouth. Brenda sank her fingers into his thick hair, urging his mouth more firmly onto her breast, her breath catching.

  Richard’s sun-streaked light brown hair really was yummy, Brenda thought, from a faraway place in her misty mind. So thick and silky. Lovely hair. Just divine.

  Oh, she felt so strange. But wonderful. She’d never experienced such all-consuming passion, such driving need, such burning want. She couldn’t bear this anymore. She had to quell this fire before there was nothing left of her except cinders that would be blown away by the wind.

  “Richard, please,” she whispered, her voice holding the echo of a sob. “I want you so much. Please.”

  “I want you, too, Brenda,” he said, not recognizing the sound of his own voice. “But…”

  “Don’t think. We don’t have to think, do we, Richard? Tell me we don’t have to think.”

  “We don’t have to think,” he said thickly. “No thinking. None. Oh, hell…wait. Birth control. Better think abou
t that one.”

  “I’m on the Pill,” she said. “No problem.”

  “That ends the thinking,” he said.

  “Oh, thank goodness.”

  Richard leveled himself to his feet and shed his clothes quickly, flinging them onto the floor. Brenda visually traced every magnificent inch of him as though she’d never seen him before, despite the fact that they’d both been clad in bathing suits on several occasions in the past, when she’d attended MacAllister gatherings with him.

  But this was very different, Brenda’s mind hummed. This was now. This wasn’t Richard her buddy, her best friend, her pal. Before her stood Richard the man and, oh, mercy, he was so blatantly male that it defied description.

  It was as though she was suddenly wearing a pair of magical glasses that were causing her to view him as she never had before. Incredible.

  Richard reached down and scooped Brenda into his arms, lifting her to his chest and leaving the pea-soup robe behind.

  He kissed her deeply, and she returned the kiss in kind as she entwined her arms around his neck. He broke the kiss and strode across the room, down the hall and into his bedroom. He set her on her feet next to the bed, swept back the blankets, then placed her in the center of the big bed, following her down to lie next to her.

  So beautiful, Richard thought, as his mouth captured Brenda’s once again. Brenda was exquisite, so delicate and feminine, making him so acutely aware of his own size and masculinity.

  He’d always considered her to be pretty in a fresh, wholesome way, but right now, at this moment in time, Brenda was the most sensuous, enticing, tantalizing woman he had ever seen in his entire life.

  He’d known since he met her on that fateful day when they’d both moved into their new apartments at the same time that Brenda was funny, thoughtful and caring. They’d discovered very early on that they were poles apart on so many issues that they never could be more than friends, so friends they were…best friends, always there when the other needed them.

  But why, in heaven’s name, had he never realized how alluring Brenda was? How womanly? How sensual? He’d seen her in the past in a bikini that was hardly more than scraps of cloth, and it had never registered in his dumb male brain what he was actually seeing. She had just been Brenda, his best friend, whom he’d invited to come along to one of the MacAllister pool parties.

  But that was then, and this was now, and he wanted her so damn much.

  Don’t think, MacAllister, his mind thudded. Don’t think.

  Just feel, Brenda, her mind whispered. Don’t think. Don’t think.

  They kissed and caressed and explored and discovered. Where hands traveled, lips followed, and passions soared. Their breathing became quick and sharp, hearts raced and desire thrummed with ever-increasingly heated intensity within them until they could bear no more.

  “Oh, Richard, please,” Brenda said.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  He moved over her, then entered her, the moist heat of her femininity receiving him, welcoming all that he brought to her. He began to move, slowly at first, then increasing the tempo of the dance until it was a pounding rhythm that they matched in perfect synchronization, beat for beat. Pounding. Hotter. Taking them higher. Then up and over the top to fling them into oblivion seconds apart.

  “Richard!”

  “Bren, ah, Brenda.”

  They clung tightly to each other as the last waves of ecstasy rippled through them, then they drifted slowly back to reality.

  Richard collapsed against Brenda, spent, sated, then rolled off her with his last ounce of energy. He tucked her close to his side, then reached down to draw the blankets over them.

  They didn’t speak, each consumed with a wondrous sense of awe, of knowing that what they’d just shared was far beyond anything they had experienced before.

  The very essence of it, the intimacy, intensity and perfection, made it seem as though this was the first time either of them had made love.

  The complexity of their shared experience began to inch into their minds, along with the taunting truth that they had taken their roles of best friends to a place where best friends didn’t go.

  “Don’t think,” Richard mumbled.

  “No,” Brenda said, a slight edge of panic in her voice. “Don’t think.”

  They gave way to the sleep that beckoned them, gratefully, eagerly welcoming the somnolence that claimed them, heads resting on the same pillow, hands entwined.

  Two

  The ringing of a telephone, followed by an expletive mumbled in a deep voice, jolted Brenda from a deep, dreamless sleep.

  She sat bolt upright on the bed, then her eyes widened as she saw Richard swing his feet to the floor and grab the receiver to the telephone on the night-stand. He remained seated on the bed, his back to Brenda.

  “Hello,” he said gruffly. “Yeah, I was asleep, but now I’m awake like it or not… Oh? Well, give me the details, I guess…”

  Brenda snatched up the sheet to cover her nakedness and eased back onto the pillow, her mind racing as she clutched the sheet beneath her chin with both hands, her gaze riveted on Richard’s broad, bare back.

  Dear heaven, she thought frantically, she’d made love with Richard MacAllister! She’d shared that most intimate act with her best friend!

  Oh, this was terrible, just awful. How could she have done such a thing? Richard was her chum, her buddy, her pal, her…

  A soft smile formed on Brenda’s lips as she shifted her gaze to the ceiling and allowed memories of the previous night to float before her mental vision.

  Her lover, she mused dreamily. Never, not once in her entire twenty-six years on this planet, had she shared such incredibly beautiful lovemaking with a man.

  Not that she had a whole bushel of lovers to her credit, but she knew, just somehow knew, that what had taken place between her and Richard was far and away more wondrous than the norm. It was certainly more exquisite than anything she’d experienced before.

  They had been so perfect together, as though the magical joining had been created just for them. They had given, they had received, and it had been ecstasy. The final moment, the climax of their journey, had been nearly shattering in its intensity, had seemed to fling her into a glorious place where she had never gone before…and could only travel to with Richard.

  My, my, my, what a night.

  “Isn’t anyone else available?” Richard said. “I just got home from Kansas City, and I’m beat, exhausted to the bone…. Yeah, I hear you, but…where’s Jeff?…”

  Brenda snapped out of her memory-filled haze and tightened her hold on the sheet.

  Think, she told herself. She remembered how she and Richard had agreed not to think the previous night, but this was the morning after, and it was definitely time to think, think, think.

  In a few moments Richard was going to end the telephone call, replace the receiver, then turn and look at her.

  What was she going to say? How should she act? What would Richard say and do after what had transpired between them? She wanted to grab her pea-soup robe and hightail it to her own apartment without having said one word to Richard MacAllister.

  Get a grip, Brenda, she ordered herself. She was a mature woman, who had made love with a mature man. It happened between people all the time. It was nothing to become unglued about, for Pete’s sake.

  Brenda closed her eyes and shook her head. Part of her was horrified at what she had done. Another part was terrified that she had destroyed a precious and rare friendship. Yet a third part was not one bit sorry that she had shared the most fantastic lovemaking in the world.

  Oh, good grief, she thought, opening her eyes again, what was she going to say to Richard?

  “Yeah, all right,” Richard said. “Where will the ticket be?… You’re certain there isn’t a later flight that isn’t booked solid? I’ll really have to hustle, here…. Okay, okay. ’Bye.” Richard dropped the receiver back into place. “Hell.”


  Mature adult, mature adult, mature adult, Brenda chanted silently, as she watch Richard turn his head slowly toward her. I am a mature adult.

  “Hi, Bren,” Richard said quietly, no readable expression on his face.

  “Ohhh, I’m invisible,” Brenda wailed, then pulled the sheet over her head.

  Richard stretched out next to her and drew the sheet up to his armpits.

  “So am I,” he said, then sighed. “I’m not here, so don’t attempt to speak to me.”

  Brenda lowered the sheet enough to peer over the top at Richard.

  “Is that any way for a mature adult to behave?” she said, her words muffled slightly by the sheet. “Shame on you.”

  Richard rolled onto his side and propped himself on one forearm.

  “But you’re acting like a mature adult?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Hiding under the bedclothes doesn’t quite convince me, Bren.”

  Brenda sighed, lowered the sheet to beneath her chin and met Richard’s gaze.

  “I don’t know what to say to you,” she said. “I really don’t. I’m very confused right now. All I know is that I don’t want to lose you as my best friend, Richard. That would break my heart.

  “What we did was wrong, I guess, because people who are best friends don’t… But then again it was so beautiful, so incredible, but…we shouldn’t have…but then again— Oh, I’m not making any sense.”

  “Yes, you are,” he said, nodding. “You’re echoing exactly what I would have said if you hadn’t jumped in and done it first.

  “I need you to be my best friend, Brenda, just as you were before we— But you’re right. What we shared was really something. It was very…beautiful, to borrow your word.

  “I can’t honestly say that I’m sorry we made love, but by the same token I will regret it for the rest of my life if it costs me your friendship.”

  Richard continued to look directly into Brenda’s eyes. Desire grew between them, gaining heat, as remembrances of the previous night took front row center in their minds.

 

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