by Meg Benjamin
“Not just yet,” she whispered, dipping to take the head of his cock into her mouth.
He gave a strangled cry, balling his fists in the spread on either side. “Good Christ, woman, my control’s about gone here.”
She ran her tongue around the head, licking lightly just behind it.
Then Pete’s fingers were biting into her shoulders and she was rolling onto her back. She heard the sound of a drawer sliding open and saw him tearing at the corner of a foil packet with his teeth.
“Let me,” she said, reaching for the condom.
“Not on your life. No more touching. Trust me on this.” Pete rolled the condom over himself, then dropped to his elbows above her.
Janie’s breath caught in her chest. This was it. And she hadn’t the foggiest idea whether or not she was ready for it, for him.
His fingers skimmed across her folds again, testing her, teasing her. Her hips jerked, canting up toward him as if they were no longer under her control.
Nothing was under her control anymore.
Pete looked down at her and then dropped his head again, his mouth opening against hers as his tongue slid in softly, gently. The gentlest kiss she’d ever had.
Her knees fell open as she felt him move against her. And then he was sliding inside, opening her, stretching her. The length of him was more than she could bear and all that she wanted. He was much too big and not big at all. Janie knew she wasn’t making any sense, but she couldn’t manage to pull her mind together.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, tucking her heels against the small of his back. He moved inside her with a kind of desperate rhythm, resting on his elbows above her, holding her face tight between his hands as if he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t run away.
She reached up to stroke his cheek. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
He looked down. “Just okay?”
But she was lost by then, feeling the wave of sensation, driving her up, up, up. “Oh, Pete, yes,” she moaned. And then she rode the wave up, up and over.
She felt as if her body had shattered against him. She flexed her fingers into his shoulders, trembling as she cried out—a high peak she’d never climbed before.
Above her Pete lost his rhythm, moving wildly, his body jerking as he drove into her again and again. Then he groaned and plunged deep, touching her darkest place, setting off another round of shocks that made her scream.
He lay still for a long moment, panting, his body damp with perspiration. And then he rolled to his side, carrying her with him, still deep inside her body, and dropped his head to her shoulder.
Janie closed her eyes. Somewhere at the back of her mind something told her she should go home. Her mother was waiting.
Her mother could wait.
She moved her hands to the sides of Pete’s face, bending over him, then rubbed her nose against his. “More than okay,” she whispered. “Believe me. Way more than okay.”
Chapter Fifteen
When he woke the next morning, Pete felt as if his brain had melted during the night. He lay still, holding Janie Dupree against his chest, and tried to solidify the pieces again.
Cool light filtered through the curtains. He didn’t look at his clock, but he figured seven, or maybe six thirty. For a moment, he tried to remember how long it had been since he’d last slept with a woman in his arms. But it didn’t matter. Whenever it had been, it hadn’t been anything like last night.
Nothing had ever been anything like last night.
Janie’s body was curled against him now, small and lithe, almost like he’d cajoled some forest sprite into his room and then taken her to bed. Which made it sound like he’d seduced an elf.
Except he hadn’t really seduced her because seduction implied some reluctance on her part, and as far as he could remember, Janie hadn’t been reluctant at all. Just the contrary, in fact—she’d been warm and willing and exciting as hell, the partner of his dreams.
Whoa. He was moving into a dangerous area here. He’d only met her a week ago. Less than that really. Pete took a deep breath. He was getting way ahead of himself, moving far too fast. What was it about Janie Dupree that did that to him?
Janie moved against him, murmuring in her sleep, then settled back with a snort. She snored. Pete loved that she snored. It made her a little less perfect.
He closed his eyes, settling back against the pillow, folding Janie closer against his body. He wasn’t going back to sleep, but he wanted to spend a little more time holding her before the morning got started. He had a feeling the day wasn’t going to be pleasant for a whole lot of reasons. Janie rubbed her nose against his collarbone, and he looked down. Her eyes were open, barely.
“What time is it?” She yawned.
“Seven o’clock or so. Go back to sleep.” He kissed the top of her head, tucking her back under his chin.
“Do I have to?”
The tip of Janie’s tongue traced a line down the side of his throat. Suddenly, he didn’t feel nearly as relaxed as he had a couple of moments before.
“Do you want to?” His voice sounded a little choked. Possibly because his blood supply was rushing to other parts of his body.
Janie tipped her head back, so that she could look at him again. Her eyes were wide open now, dark and lustrous. “What do you think?”
Pete thought his first kiss of the morning was probably not going to be a transcendent experience, but taking time out to brush his teeth wasn’t exactly practical. Or desirable since it would mean stopping. He touched his lips to her forehead, then slid down her nose to her mouth.
She was ready for him, wrapping her arms around his neck as her tongue swept across his teeth. Her leg swung up over his hips.
He pulled back to look at her again. “Fantastic way to start the day, Ms. Dupree!”
“I thought so myself.” The corners of her mouth edged up.
Pete touched his lips to the soft skin behind her earlobe just as he heard the front door creak open. What the hell? He jerked upright, putting himself in front of Janie.
“Pete?” Cal called from somewhere in the living room.
Pete closed his eyes, exhaling hard as Janie rolled across the bed, scrambling to pull the sheet up over her breasts. “Well, crap,” he growled, reaching for his jeans.
The first thing Pete saw when he walked into the kitchen was Docia pouring coffee out of his coffee pot. Well, actually, it was her coffee pot since it had been in the apartment when he arrived, but still…
“Gee, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company at this ungodly hour of the morning?” Pete fumbled through the cupboard until he found a mug. “And where’s Olive?” With any luck he could take care of whatever Cal wanted and get them out of the apartment before Janie had climbed back onto the fire escape.
“I let Olive out into the backyard,” Cal said, his voice grim. “We need to do some planning.”
Pete turned to stare at him. “What happened? Is Lars okay?”
“Lars is fine.” Cal grimaced. “Well, not ‘fine’, exactly. But he’s okay. We took him back to the house with us last night. Figured it would not be a good idea to let him go back to the motel alone. He’s taking it a lot better than I would have expected. Maybe it’s less of a surprise to him than it is to us.”
Pete felt a quick jolt of guilt. He should have taken Lars back to the apartment. He hadn’t thought of it—he’d been concentrating on Janie. He dropped into a chair opposite Cal. “So what’s up? What do you need?”
Behind him, the kitchen door swung open. Pete willed himself not to look. He saw Docia’s eyes widen, and then Janie walked into his line of vision. She was wearing one of his T-shirts that reached down almost to her knees. He wasn’t sure if she had anything on underneath, and he didn’t really want to check under the present circumstances.
Cal cleared his throat. He was biting his lip, and Pete was pretty sure he was doing it to keep from grinning.
“What are we planning, Calthorpe?” Pe
te moved into Cal’s line of vision, blocking his view of Janie.
“How to make this godawful train wreck of a wedding work,” Docia grumbled.
Pete glanced at her. Dark shadows circled her eyes, and thin lines outlined her mouth. She looked as if she’d aged a couple of years since he’d last seen her.
Janie slid into the seat beside her, slipping an arm around Docia’s shoulders. “What can we do to help?”
Docia bit her lip, thinking. “Attendants,” she said finally. “We need to get the attendants lined up again. Sherice is out—no question at this point. I want you to wear that freakin’ dress.” She raised a mutinous gaze to Janie. “Think you can take care of that?”
“Done.” Janie set her mug on the counter.
Janie sounded like getting the dress back was one duty she’d enjoy. Pete wasn’t so sure, but at this point he was willing to take on anything that involved her and getting The Wedding back on track. “All right, we’ll take care of getting the dress from Sherice. Assuming that’s okay with Lars.”
Cal sighed. “I don’t think Lars is processing much right now. He’d probably go along with anything you come up with, but try not to make it too nasty, okay? Things are screwed up enough already.”
Pete nodded. “Strictly business. Or something.”
Janie’s brow furrowed. “We’ll need some time to work on this. I doubt Sherice will be up before ten at least. What about the store?”
“I’ll run it.” Docia sighed. “It’ll keep my mind off everything. Besides, you need some time to cool off a little before you have to meet the public again. Right now, you’re radioactive.”
“Radioactive?” Janie’s mouth became a thin line. “Right. The shattered woman. Tell everybody I’m off on a three-day drunk, pining for my lost love. That’s what they’ll expect anyway.”
Cal’s mouth edged up into a slightly guarded smile. “Funny, you don’t look too shattered to me.”
Janie turned toward Pete, her face suddenly radiant. An ache throbbed in his chest. Lordy, he was responsible for that!
“If there’s an opposite of shattered, that’s what I am.” Janie grinned at them both. “Go. Relax. Pete and I will take care of everything.”
Pete took a deep breath. Sure they would.
Janie had to admit that part of her really wanted to just pull on her clothes from yesterday and head off to Sherice’s motel. But her blouse was thoroughly wrinkled and her capris did indeed have a broken zipper.
And she couldn’t put off seeing her mother forever—Mom was probably getting ready to call out the bloodhounds as it was.
“Do you want me to come inside?” Pete asked as they walked up in front of her house.
“No.” Janie shook her head. If her mother saw her in rumpled clothes with a spare Toleffson brother, she’d probably have a heart attack.
“Okay, then. I’ll go back and take a shower. I’ll meet you back here in thirty minutes or so.”
Janie almost suggested fifteen minutes instead, but it sounded cowardly.
Mom was sitting at the kitchen table in a pair of butterscotch knit slacks and a bright green shirt with embroidered daisies on the collar. She had on a lot of makeup, which was supposed to cover up the lines of fatigue around her eyes.
“Good morning,” Janie trilled, feeling like a jerk.
Her mother studied her, taking in her generally rumpled appearance. “You could have called.”
“Yes ma’am.” Janie swallowed hard. “I’m very sorry.”
“There’s some coffee, and I warmed up some Sara Lee sticky buns.” Her mother took a sip of her coffee. “I’ve already heard all about it, so you don’t need to spare me.”
Janie froze, one hand reaching for the coffee pot. “‘Heard all about’ what?”
“Otto. Carolyn Burnside called me thirty minutes ago. Rhonda called her last night.”
Her mother took another sip, and Janie’s heart began to beat again. “That was fast. The gossip express gets around.”
“Oh, news like that is too juicy to wait.” Her mother’s mouth twisted slightly. “Carolyn wanted to make sure she was the first to tell me.”
Janie sighed. “I’m sorry, Mom. I should have told you last night. But at least you found out before you went in to the shop.”
Her mother squared her shoulders, lifting her chin. “Listen to me, Janie, men are like that. They do stupid things. From what I’ve heard, that Toleffson woman is no better than she should be. Maybe she was out to get Otto. Maybe she took advantage of him. Carolyn said he’d been drinking at the Dew Drop Inn.”
Janie grasped her cup, staring down at the table while she counted to ten. “Otto is a total slimeball, Mom, he always has been. He and Sherice deserve each other, but Sherice’s husband didn’t deserve what they did to him. And believe me, both of them were definitely involved.”
Her mother stared at her blankly, her mouth hanging slightly open.
Janie took a deep breath and blew it out, then gulped the rest of her coffee. “I need to get dressed. I’ve got things to do today.” She stood, heading for her room.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” her mother called after her.
“Yes ma’am.” Janie increased her pace. “Some.”
She took the world’s fastest shower and shampoo. When she came out of her bedroom, Pete was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a sticky bun. Mom appeared to have developed a new set of lines on her forehead. Pete looked like he was trying unsuccessfully to be invisible.
“We’ve got some wedding stuff to take care of,” Janie said briskly as she propelled Pete toward the front door. “I probably won’t be home for dinner. Don’t wait up.”
Pete slowed as they reached the front walk. “Should I ask what that was all about?”
She shook her head. “Trust me, don’t. What about your mother? Did anybody tell her about last night?”
He grimaced. “I didn’t. Maybe Cal did. It would be just like him to take it on since Lars isn’t exactly in shape to do it himself.”
“Have you seen Lars this morning?”
“Not yet.” Pete’s mouth compressed in a thin line. “Let’s go see if Sherice is receiving visitors.”
The Gasthaus was one of the better motels in Konigsburg, but probably not as plush as the hotels Sherice usually stayed in. Pete pulled up outside the entrance to the courtyard. He and Janie sat for a moment in silence, steeling themselves.
“Would you like me to do this?” Pete asked. “You don’t really need to be there. I’m used to Sherice by now.”
Janie shook her head. “Nope. I’m going to face her, for better or worse. I told Docia we’d take care of things, and I’m part of that ‘we’.”
“Okay.” Pete squared his shoulders. “Let’s go see how bad this is going to be.”
Lars and Sherice had a room facing into the courtyard with its oak-tree-edged pool. Pete moved up the covered walkway and then stopped.
Lars was sitting in a lawn chair in front of the door to his room. His eyes were closed—Pete wasn’t sure whether he was asleep or meditating. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Morning, Lars.”
Lars opened his eyes a little blearily. Pete wondered if he’d had anything to eat since the hamburger at the Dew Drop last night.
“Morning,” he mumbled.
Pete hunkered down beside him. “You had any coffee yet?”
Lars shrugged. “Something in the room that was advertised as coffee. Between you and me, I think you could make the case that it was potentially lethal.”
Pete chewed on his lip for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase his next question.
“She’s not in there,” Lars grunted, closing his eyes again.
Pete frowned. “What?”
“Sherice. She took off sometime last night. All her clothes are gone.” Lars opened his eyes again, his forehead furrowing. “Well, not all of them, I guess.”
Behind him, Pete heard Janie inhale sharply. “Did she ta
ke the matron of honor dress with her?”
There was a long pause, then Lars shook his head. “It’s in the closet.”
Janie blew out a relieved breath. “We need to get it. Is it okay if we go in?”
Lars didn’t open his eyes. He nodded slowly. “Go ahead.”
Pete waited a moment longer, frowning. He’d expected Lars to be upset, but upset wasn’t exactly the right word for this. He pushed himself to his feet and opened the door for Janie.
Inside, the room smelled slightly stale. Sunlight leaked through the window blinds, reflecting off the dancing dust motes. Janie headed toward the closet door. “She’s got both dresses, you know, the matron’s dress and the bridesmaid dress that Reba had flown in for her. But I don’t think she ever got the alterations done on the matron’s dress. I hope not anyway.” She opened the door and started to reach inside as Lars appeared in the doorway behind them.
The sound she made tipped Pete off—that faint gasp of distress.
“Janie?” He stepped toward her.
Janie reached slowly into the closet. He couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders were trembling.
He stepped closer. “What’s happening?”
“Why?” Janie whispered. “Why would she do this?”
Pete looked over her shoulder into the small closet. The two dresses hung side by side. A rip extended from the middle of the bodice to the hem of each dress, threads dangling from the jagged edges. It looked as if Sherice had simply sliced each dress in half before hanging what was left of them neatly on their hangers.
“That isn’t all she did.” Lars pushed the sliding doors down to the other end of the closet. “She was very thorough.”
His tuxedo hung in tatters, the vest, coat and pants all ripped apart.
Pete sat on the end of the bed, staring into the closet. “I gather she was pissed.”
Lars shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe this was just a parting shot. I need to go home, bro.” He raised his red-rimmed gaze to Pete.
Pete shook his head. “Why? What’s waiting for you there? Aren’t you better off here?”