Between the Sheets

by P. J. Mellor

  “Who?” He knew who but wanted Andre to clarify before he broke his nose.

  “Who?” Andre broke into another peal of laughter. “Ashley the ice queen, who else? Don’t look at me like that. We all knew you had a major boner for her for years.” He slapped Daryl’s shoulder again, sloshing beer on his hand. “And here you are. You were just a faster learner than old Connor and me!”

  Daryl looked at their reflection in the mirror behind the bar, taken aback by what he saw. They’d always been mistaken for brothers, but until tonight, he’d never seen the resemblance.

  Beside him, Andre rambled on. “Just about fucked my brains out when I drove her home from the party—”

  “What party?”

  “You don’t remember? You know, that stupid costume party what’s-his-name and his wife threw that Halloween. What was it? Had to be at least four or five years ago. Anyway, I came late. Ashley was alone on the freaking patio, looking so doable I almost came in my pants. Since you weren’t the only one with a boner for her in those days, and I’d had a few, I decided to ask her to dance. You know, sort of test the water.” His grinning gaze met Daryl’s in the mirror.

  “What happened?” Now he knew why Ashley wasn’t waiting for him when he returned with their drinks.

  Andre scratched his head, making his wild brown hair stand on end. “Can’t ’member it all. It’s been a while. But I remember she wanted me to drive her home.” He rubbed his whiskered face. “She lived down by the lake then. Like I said, she about fucked my brains out as soon as we walked into her place. Damn near ruined my costume. I paid good money to rent the thing. I guess, considering how the night ended, it was worth every penny, huh?” He laughed again, but Daryl had a sinking sensation.

  “Yeah.” He forced a chuckle. “I forgot about the costume thing.” Yeah, right. “I remember you saying you weren’t going to pay to rent one. I didn’t see you at the party. Which costume did you end up with?”

  “Fucking phantom.” He took another gulp and laughed at his wit. “Get it? Fucking phantom!”

  Yeah, he got it.

  “I hated the damn thing,” Andre continued, taking another gulp. “I think it made Ashley wet.” He gave a derisive laugh. “And that was about the last time she was, let me tell you. But she tried, I have to give her that. She moved in with me the very next day, fucking me at every opportunity. I never thought I’d dread getting a hard-on. Damn near wore me out that first year. When she started telling me how to do her, it was a cock shriveler. Then, when she started begging me to rent the damn costume, well, it was adios!”

  “Did she say why she wanted you to wear the costume?” Daryl strove for nonchalance when all he wanted was to run for the door.

  Andre shook his head, then motioned for another round. “Naw. Looking back, I think it was the only way she could get off. I sure as hell know she never came after that first night.”

  Damn. He’d made a major tactical error by not revealing his identity to Ashley. If what Andre said was true, and he had no reason to doubt it, Ashley could very well have thought he was Andre.

  Ashley’s words drifted through his mind. Probably the best I’ve had, except for that first night with Andre…

  18

  Ashley sat in the rapidly cooling water, flipping her phone shut in disgust when Daryl’s voice mail clicked on again. Where was he? Was he having sex with the Angelina Jolie wannabe from the bar? She blinked back tears at the thought.

  Still, if that’s the kind of woman he was attracted to, it was obvious why she and Daryl had never hooked up during all the years they’d known each other.

  She wracked her brain, trying to remember if he’d ever had a serious girlfriend. There was that one girl in college, Joan or Jillian or something like that. Ashley had run into them at the movies on campus once. Since she was between boyfriends, she’d been happy to see Daryl at her door the next day. Some friend she’d been. She’d never even asked about his date.

  Just thinking about Daryl made her horny. How pathetic was that? Twisting the faucet, she added more hot water, then pushed the button to activate the whirlpool.

  The force of the jets felt almost painful, doing nothing to relax her.

  The bath gel came out in a blob, dripping off her loofah onto her breast. Her swipe served to smear the slick gel. In her attempt to get it off, she thought of Daryl and wished he were in the big tub with her, smoothing the gel over her eager body. She plucked at her erect nipple and felt an answering ache beneath the water.

  An ache only Daryl could completely appease.

  But her trusty whirlpool had helped take the edge off for the last two weeks.

  With grim determination, she raised her left leg to rest on the lip of the tub, positioning the force of the jet by her hip directly at the spot aching for Daryl’s touch.

  Eyes closed, she imagined Daryl pleasuring her. Her hips bucked as the hot water lapped at her swollen clitoris. Her breath hitched, coming in fast pants. Close. She was so close to at least a temporary release, when the doorbell pealed.

  She jerked upright. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Closing her eyes, she slid back down, repositioning her leg for greatest stimulation. Immediately, she was back in the zone, poised on the brink, when the doorbell sounded again.

  Crap.

  There was only one person she wanted to see right now, and it was a pretty safe bet it wasn’t him.

  On the lip of the tub, her cell rang. She caught it before it toppled into the water.

  Daryl. She punched the whirlpool off, silencing the jets.

  “H-hello?”

  “Hi. It’s me. Is this a bad time?”

  She was naked and needy. And missing him like crazy. Was it a bad time? It all depended on what constituted bad. “No. What’s up?” She hoped she sounded casual, like she always had before…well, before everything that shattered her world.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Talk.” She sank back into the water, idly wondering if she could masturbate while he talked without him knowing. Just the sound of his voice made her wet. It wouldn’t take much since she was already poised on the brink.

  “Are you home?”

  She sat up, water sloshing over the edge of the tub. “Yes. Do you want to come over?” What could she wear that would be enticing yet not say take me? Then again, the idea of him taking her up on what she’d love to offer had a certain appeal.

  “I’m already here.”

  “What?” She stumbled getting out of the tub, shrieking the word in her haste.

  “You didn’t answer the door. I rang the bell. I thought maybe you were out. Or something.”

  Or something? Did he think she ran out and slept with someone just because she’d seen him with a date and couldn’t cope? She hadn’t thought of that….

  “Ash?”

  “What?” Where the heck was her robe?

  “Open the door.”

  “Hang on.” She flipped the phone shut and wrapped a towel around her eager body. A glance in the mirror told her it was too late to do anything with her hair or makeup.

  She ran for the door as fast as her bare feet would take her on the hardwood floor, skidding to a stop by the peephole.

  Yep, there he was. Struck anew by his masculine beauty, she wondered how she’d never noticed until lately.

  “I can see you looking at me.” Daryl’s voice sounded through the security door. “Open the door before your neighbors think I’m a pervert.”

  Her fingers fumbled with the chain and lock. Finally she threw open the door.

  She’d come to a decision on her way to the door. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to listen, either. She only wanted to feel.

  And what she most wanted to feel was Daryl, naked and inside her.

  “Ash, I need—”

  Throwing herself into his arms, she silenced him with the deepest, wettest kiss she could muster. She needed, too, and right now, she needed him. She shoved the door shut.


  Not breaking the kiss, she stripped him, scattering his clothing in her foyer, then walked him backward to the fluffy sectional in her living room, not stopping until they toppled to the cushions.

  “I missed you!” She moved away to grab a condom from the pile she’d placed on the coffee table the day she came home from the beach, hoping Daryl would follow her.

  Not wanting to talk, she scooted close to his face, pushing until her nipple filled his mouth. When he closed his mouth around it, she almost swooned, her knees weak with desire. Her hand shook so badly it took a few seconds to open the foil packet.

  Reluctantly pulling her breast from his hot mouth, she sheathed him in two seconds flat and climbed on top, straddling his hips, not stopping until she sank home.

  Daryl’s hands cupped and massaged her aching breasts, his hips moving in a delicious counterpoint to hers, their labored breathing loud in the quiet room.

  She climaxed three times, slipping and sliding on his hard abdomen before his muscles flexed for his final thrust.

  Collapsing on his heaving chest, she placed soft kisses everywhere her lips could reach.

  Daryl lay in the darkness, struggling to regain his breath as he stroked Ashley’s damp hair. He loved her. He suspected, on some level, she probably loved him, too. He hadn’t expected her to attack him when he stepped through the doorway, but he hadn’t exactly fought her off. He sure hoped he hadn’t made a tactical error.

  She needed to know how he felt. She also needed to know he was the phantom lover at the Halloween party. Damn. How could he have been so stupid? He should have told her who he was from the get-go—or at least after their first mind-blowing sexual encounter.

  “Ash, I missed you, too. I didn’t like waking up alone at the beach house.” He continued stroking her hair, composing his next words. It was important to say it just right. Quite possibly the most important speech of his life.

  “I’m sorry I ran out like that.” She did an all-over body hug that temporarily distracted him. “I had a lot to think about.”

  “Oh? And?”

  “And I,” she said, placing his hands on her breast, smiling down at him when he immediately flexed his fingers. “I came to an important conclusion.”

  Say it. Say you love me. “What’s that?” Feigning nonchalance, he rubbed her beaded nipples with the pads of his thumbs.

  She squirmed on his semierection. “I discovered I’m a sex addict.”

  His hands stopped caressing her breasts. “Oh?” Shit. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this, then.” A surge of satisfaction went through him when she clamped her hands over his, holding them in place.

  “Wait. I’m not finished. I also made another discovery.”

  “You’ve been busy.” Tell me.

  “While I’m a sex addict, I discovered it’s only with you. I’m a Daryl Garrett sex addict.” She shrugged, her breasts rising and falling in a most distracting way.

  “What do you think that means, Ash?” He was obviously going to have to make her spell it out.

  Slipping from his recovered erection, she pulled up until she sat on his chest, her breasts practically suffocating him.

  He inhaled the fresh scent of her soap, then took a tentative lick from each breast while he waited. As soon as she told him she loved him, they would move on to some serious makeup sex. He may even propose before the night was done. But first he needed to tell her about the phantom.

  Her hips flexed with each swipe of his tongue. She teased him by circling his mouth with the tip of each breast, her wet center burning a hole in his chest. “I think,” she said, dragging the tip of one breast along the seam of his mouth, “it means I was meant to be a lover.”

  He swallowed his disappointment, pressing his lips tightly shut, avoiding the temptation of her breast. Gently grasping her ribs, he set her back, creating a distance from the distraction of her delectable body. “Oh, yeah? Anyone in particular’s lover, or just a lover in general?” At this point, he had no clue.

  Plopping back, she glared at him, then grabbed his hands, placing them back on her chest. “Duh. A Daryl lover.”

  His heart soared. Lover was a start, wasn’t it?

  “Any particular Daryl, or just anyone named Daryl will do?” He loved teasing her. Could he settle for just being lovers? He wanted more, but this was more than he had a month ago.

  “Don’t be a weirdo.” She sank back onto his renewed erection and gyrated her hips, eyes closed, holding his hands on her breasts.

  He could live with being lovers.

  For a while, anyway.

  19

  Daryl dried off, glancing down at his purple penis. Was he suffering the same fate as Andre, unable to sexually satisfy Ashley? No, he’d felt the flutter of her pulse, the change in her respiration. Her inner muscles convulsing. She wasn’t faking her orgasms. But, despite their weeklong sexual marathon, Ashley seemed no closer to making a commitment than she’d been when they first got back together.

  And he still hadn’t told her about the phantom. Because of that, he’d waited, wanting to get a declaration of love before he revealed himself.

  He’d thought he could live with being lovers. The idea of being a sex object had, at first, been exciting. Now it was tiring. Oh, he still got an instant hard-on whenever he was around her. That probably would never change.

  But he wanted—he deserved—more.

  Girding for battle, he dressed in the bathroom.

  Ashley still lay in wanton abandon from their last lovemaking session. Sprawled naked on the rumpled sheets, she sent a silent subliminal message to his eager cock.

  Being lovers gave him a sexual high he’d never imagined. But he needed to up the pressure to get Ashley to commit. Since she claimed to crave his lovemaking, maybe if he withheld it, she’d realize he was more than a convenient cock.

  “Why are you dressed?” She propped up on her elbow, her heated gaze raking him from his freshly washed hair to his loafers and back again.

  “It’s Monday. I have appointments first thing this morning. I need to be there early to get some paperwork done.” Paperwork he’d neglected during his weeklong sexual marathon.

  She fondled her breast, plucking at the erect nipple.

  “Come back to bed, Daryl,” she said in a sexy whisper. “We can have a quickie. Or, if you can go in a little later, we can have some mind-blowing good-bye sex.”

  His gaze flew to the juncture of her thighs when her hand slid from her breast to her swollen folds. He swallowed and shifted in an attempt to adjust his suddenly-too-tight boxers.

  Damn, it made him horny to watch her touch herself.

  Averting his gaze, he cleared his throat. “Ash, cover up. Please. You’re killing me.”

  “Are you already tired of being my lover?” She looked stricken.

  His first thought was to strip and slide into bed and into her willing body, to prove he still desired her.

  But he had to be strong.

  “You know better than that. If we lived to be one hundred, I’d never get tired of loving you.” He met her gaze. “And I do, you know. Love you. I’ve probably loved you since third grade, if I think about it honestly. That’s why I’m going back to my place after work.”

  “But…I don’t understand.” He was relieved to see her pull the sheet up over her nudity. “If you love having sex with me—”

  “I do, but it’s not having sex, Ash. We’re way beyond that. It’s making love. At least that’s what it is for me. And I want more from you than sex.” There, he’d said it.

  Wrapping the sheet around her, she stood, glaring at him. “Why? We have a great sex life. We’re best friends. Why can’t you be happy with that?” She stomped to stand toe-to-toe. “You know my track record. You know I don’t do well with committed relationships. Why are you pushing me?”

  “Why are you denying your feelings?” he countered.

  “Who says I’m denying them? Did you ever think, Daryl, maybe being lovers is
all I have to offer?”

  “Bullshit!”

  “Keep your voice down! We’ve known each other since we were eight. You’ve seen me at my worst. How could you possibly be in love with me?”

  “How could I not?” His voice was so low, it barely carried.

  “Because a woman needs to maintain a little mystery. Because you know me too well, having seen me at my worst, on several occasions. That alone should preclude a serious relationship with me. Did you ever think maybe sex is all I can give? All I’m capable of giving? Isn’t it enough that I want to sleep only with you and nobody else?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  He turned and walked toward the door, praying she would call him back.

  She didn’t.

  “What are you doing?” Ashley trudged into the break room and poured a huge mug of coffee.

  Amy looked up from the papers she’d been filling out. “Filing transfer papers. I’m transferring to the Austin office.”

  “What? Ow!” Ashley grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the scalding liquid she’d just sloshed on her hand. “Why?”

  “Because I’m sick and tired of watching one of my best friends ruin her life. I can’t stay and watch the carnage.”

  “Me?”

  “You.” Amy’s dark head bent to her task.

  “Don’t go! I need you.”

  “No, you don’t; you need Daryl.” Amy pointed her pen at Ashley, then sighed. “But for some inexplicable reason, you’re in denial. Maybe if I leave town, you’ll realize what a mess you’ve made and fix it. I feel like I’ve been an enabler. I quit.”

  “Please stay.” Ashley sank into the formed orange plastic chair across from Amy. “I’m just confused. As soon as I figure everything out, I’ll be okay.”

  “What’s to figure out, girlfriend? The guy’s already told you he loves you. If you didn’t love him, too, you wouldn’t be such a pathetic mess. Admit it to him and yourself and let nature take its course. You’re thinking too much.”