Reaching For You: A New Adult Contemporary Romance (Anything For You Book 2)

by Hopkins, Faleena

  She glances up at him from under her eyebrows. “I guess so.”

  He leaves and she walks to sit on the edge of the bed by my side, scooting her butt a little to get comfortable in the small space. She points her thumb in the direction of the door. “Does he think he was subtle? Because he was so not subtle.”

  All of the tension he infused, is instantly defused by her – a phenomena that seems to keep happening. “You call it like you see it, don’t you, Freckles?”

  Her hands slide around my neck. She laces her fingers into my hair and puts her forehead against mine. “Yep.”

  Chapter Ten

  Annie

  Mark: my new best friend. I want to start a fan club for the fucking guy.

  With one arm around my waist, Brendan’s fingers press against the small of my back, drawing me closer. We kiss and I close my eyes, drifting into the dream of him. We kiss long and slow for who knows how many delicious minutes, just enjoying the taste of each other and the tender explorations of our tongues. It feels like home. We belong here.

  I’m enjoying everything about him… the rough stubble of his unshaved face. How soft his hair is, between my fingers. How sexy his eyes are with his lids half-mast, closing one second, then gazing at me, the next. He looks at me as I kiss his cheeks, his nose, his chin, and even rise up to kiss his forehead – all along the length in tiny, sweet kisses while his hand massages my lower back.

  “Annie.”

  I wait, but he stops himself.

  So I lean back and look into his dark blue eyes, gazing at the black flecks while my hands fall to rest on his shoulders. “What? Ask me…”

  He looks off to the side. Something hard for him to process or to say, so I wait patiently for him to be ready to tell me. His eyes return to me again, troubled. But he doesn’t speak. We sit silently, looking at each other. It feels so good to be this close to him.

  I lean in and whisper against his lips, “You know what I’d like to do?”

  He slowly shakes his head, and kisses me once.

  “I’d like to stay here with you tonight, if that’s okay. I can have them bring in a bed or a cot or something. I don’t want to leave.”

  My heart pumps faster, surprised at what’s I’ve said.

  But it’s so true. Everything I want is right here.

  His eyelashes stutter and he closes his eyes against them, saying in a deep, low voice, “Stay.”

  “True Romance or Kill Bill?” I whisper.

  Smiling, he looks at me, the frown disappearing quickly. “True Romance.”

  “Good choice.”

  He chuckles. “You’re… I don’t know. You make me laugh, Annie.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, you make me very warm in places other people only wish they could see.”

  His eyes dance. “If only they knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “That you’re magic.”

  My heart explodes and I sit back. “Do you really think that?”

  “Yeah. I do.” His eyes change and my body responds to his look. “Freckles... go see if anyone’s coming.” He releases his hold on me. I head to the door, growing excited, before he says, “They haven’t been here in awhile so that two hour check-in is probably coming any minute. We could just wait for…” He glances to the board. “Josephine.”

  I stop and glance over, too, and see the scrawled name – Josephine Miller – in blue. Weighing my options and thinking of all potential covert scenarios, I walk back and sit down on the edge of the bed, close to, but not touching him. “Let’s wait for her. I’ll sit right here and you can try to keep your hands off me. Let’s see how you do.”

  His eyebrows playfully rise and he gives me a sideways smirk. “You don’t think I have self-control?”

  “Let’s see,” I shrug, smiling mischievously, swinging one foot and staring at him.

  That sexy bottom lip of his juts out to tell me he’s biting the inside of his mouth. He settles back, but he’s not fooling anyone. His muscles are rock hard and he looks like he’s going to pounce on me. I glance down and see his blanket is tented, his erection giving him away.

  His eyes travel slowly and deliberately down my blouse, looking through my clothes, and instantly I feel my body opening for him and growing very, very moist. My blood pounds as his fiery gaze hesitates below the belt of my pants, staying there like he can see through my clothes. His eyes rise and meet mine and at the same exact time, we both look to the door, impatiently.

  We break into laughter.

  “Go tell her not to come in.”

  “I can’t do that! Can you imagine?”

  He works to control a smile and cocks his head to the door. “Do it. Go tell her.”

  “Oh my God. Am I really doing this? I am. I am really doing this.” I stand, but stop and turn to look down at the popped up blanket. I lean over and touch him through it, rubbing until he groans.

  In a voice that melts my panties into oblivion, he growls, "Hurry."

  Taking a deep breath, I walk out to find the nurse. As luck would have it, one is approaching the room, wearing pale yellow scrubs and holding a stack of thin blankets. “Excuse me. Are you Josephine Miller?”

  Used to people knowing her name since they write them in every room they're assigned to, her pale features register only an inkling of surprise before it vanishes. “Yes?”

  I glance back to the door, hesitating. “Could you not come back for a little while?”

  Her eyebrows come together. “I’m sorry?”

  “Brendan is a Buddhist and he needs to do some chanting and meditation... to heal. So, could you give him like, twenty minutes?”

  Her arms fall slightly and she has that powerless expression everyone gets when you confront them with the freedom of religion. “Oh, sure. Of course. Twenty minutes?” She looks at her watch.

  "That should do it, yep. Thanks so much,” I smile, turning to open the door again.

  Inside, he watches me close the door. “That was fast.”

  “She’s giving us twenty minutes.”

  He scoffs. “Give me a break. I can go longer than that.”

  Shoving the chair against the door as a deterrent-barrier, I turn and smile. "I have no doubt." I slide my blouse off and toss it on the chair, quickly unsnapping my flesh-colored bra, throwing that too. I walk to stand a tantalizing distance out of his reach. I pick up my breasts from the outsides and bring them together to let them fall freely, perky nipples hardening under his hungry gaze.

  “Now your shoes,” he says, his voice husky.

  I kick them off, one at a time, wiggling my toes.

  He doesn’t smile. “Now your pants.”

  The hot feeling in my panties lets me know I’ve just begun to gush. I slip my fingers into the waist of my black slacks and run them along until they meet in front of my belly button on the belt. With my eyes locked on him, my lips opened suggestively, I undo the belt with agonizing slowness. I slide it off and hold it high in the air before dropping it to the ground with a crack. Unzipping my pants with a roll of my hips, I slide them off and step out of them.

  He raises his gaze up, locking eyes with me with a fiery intensity that makes me breathless. “Now take off that tiny piece of fabric that’s barely covering you.”

  I slide my right hand into the front of my thong and slip my middle finger into the warm, slippery folds of my pussy. He watches. It’s driving him wild to have me this far away and he reaches into his blanket for his rock hard cock, giving it a good stroke. I pull out my finger and his eyes follow my hand as I bring it up to my mouth and suck on it behind a slow smile.

  The intensity in his eyes darkens. “You’re amazing.”

  I step out of my panties and climb onto the bed, straddling him and pulling down the blanket and up the gown, looking at the crimson fullness of him, the tip larger than the shaft, the small tear-shaped hole deep, dark red. I cover his hand with mine and press it up and down so that we’re both stroking him, my hand guiding his
, or maybe the other way around. I don't know. It just flows. Careful not to touch his ribs, we kiss, our lips moving as slow as honey dripping on a winter’s day. He groans into my mouth as I nibble on his tongue, rising up a bit on my knees. We both guide the tip of his cock to me, and he pushes my hips back and forth a little, giving me the cue to follow. With the tip of him rubbing inside my folds, against my oh-so-sensitive little bean, I move my hips in teeny, tiny circles. The sweet burning raw fire lashes through me as we rub him against me. I let go of his mouth and look into his eyes as I slide my body down onto him, taking all of him in me, our hands clasping one another and our fingers entwining into a tight grip.

  His right arm stays by his side, but I can tell he wants to move it. I shake my head and let him know with a look, that this is perfect just as it is. I rise and fall, sliding up and down on him. I move my hips so he gets as deep as he can go, all the way in. He’s like a silky, hard iron pole and I can feel him throbbing inside of my body. I'm enjoying every penetrating drop of my hips.

  He runs his fingers up my side sending up an electric current up me that makes me moan. He picks up one of my breasts as only an expert lover knows how to, holding it and caressing the nipple with his thumb, lightly, driving me crazy. I let my head fall back as he watches my body move on him, rising up and down, slowly. He groans, and I feel the blood pulse harder into him, feel him filling me up even more. Quietly, biting my lips so as not to scream out, I writhe under the release of the ache, the shivering rocking through me. His lips open and his eyes shut as he groans, his body shooting into me. Oh so slowly, I move up and down to draw it out of him like torture, until we’re both kissing and he says on a gasp, "I can't believe it."

  “What?" I say, trying to catch my breath.

  “I feel something with you that I don’t think I’ve ever felt.”

  I blink, overcome. “I feel exactly the same way.” My eyes close with emotion as he comes in to kiss me again. The kiss is gentle and loving and stopped short by the chair being jarred by the door, as someone tries to open it.

  “Not again,” Brendan mutters, pulling up the thin blanket around me. “Hold on!!!” He yells, then, “Ow.”

  “Oh no…” I touch his chest. “That hurt?”

  He smiles at me. "It's okay."

  Whoever it was, heard him, and a voice says, through it, “Brendan?”

  His eyes go wide. “Mom? Mom, hang on!!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Brendan

  Mom’s Timing: perfect.

  I watch Annie’s face go white and she jumps off me. For the first time, I’m glad we were interrupted. I was losing it there for a second. I was swimming in this woman, this woman I’ve known for less than a week, like I was on a high I never wanted to come down from. When I was inside her, it felt like there was no separation between us. It felt like everything was suspended – all the problems in the world – like nothing but us mattered.

  I can see how someone can get addicted to drugs now, because she feels like that for me.

  I want to keep this high, stay with it.

  Sleep in it, breath it in.

  Never let it go.

  It feels like she is the light and I’m a moth, unable to fly anywhere but straight into her.

  Fuck, Brendan, you sound crazy.

  As Annie scrambles for her clothes, it occurs to me that this feels right. That maybe I’ve been wanting someone in my life for awhile, and I didn’t know.

  Nah.

  That’s bullshit. I know for a fact that I didn’t.

  But one thing is certain… I don’t want her to go away.

  Chapter Twelve

  Annie

  His Mom’s Timing: shit.

  “Oh you've gotta be kidding me.” I slide off him and jump down, unhindered by IV cords this time, but still having a ridiculously hard time of it. I pull on my pants, run for my bra and pull my blouse over my head while still snapping my bra and sticking my feet in my shoes. Brendan, very amused, points to my panties. I run over and, not having time to make it to my purse, throw them at him. He quickly shoves them under his blanket as the chair gets pushed in by nurse Josephine Miller, carrying a fresh bag of saline and followed by Brendan’s mother – a very pretty older woman with Ralph Lauren style and bobbed, streaked white, dark-brown hair.

  “He was just praying, Mrs. Clark,” Josephine says, walking over to Brendan’s IV.

  “Praying?” she asks, confused, looking at me. Her brain puts two and two together instantly. “You must think I’m an idiot. Or you are.”

  I step forward, holding my hand out sheepishly. “I’m Annie. I’m a friend of Brendan’s.”

  Mrs. Clark peers at me and Josephine, now privy to the true manner of my privacy request, throws a furtive glance our way out of inescapable curiosity. Suddenly I remember that I told them I'm his sister, and now what must they be thinking?

  Brendan speaks up to let her know I'm not some cooz. “Mom, Annie’s more than a friend - she’s the owner of the bar where we were held up.”

  Mrs. Clark’s demeanor instantly changes from suspicious judgment to concerned compassion. “Oh! Oh, you must have been so scared! How are you?"

  “I’m fine. I didn’t get hurt.”

  “She’s okay, Mom. She didn’t get hurt.”

  We glance at each other.

  “Well, that’s good news.” Mrs. Clark releases my hands and walks to her son just as Josephine goes to leave. “Thank you, nurse.” To Brendan, she says, “Why didn’t you call me? Why did I have to hear this from Mark?”

  I stand awkwardly wondering what to do with myself. Reading my thoughts, or my body language, he motions to the chair and I pull it over for her.

  "No, I meant for you," he says.

  She’s only interested in hearing about what happened and being close to him, so she sits sidesaddle on the end of his bed. “Did they catch the robber?”

  “No. Chances are pretty slim, Mom.”

  Mrs. Clark nods. “It’s a shame with all the technology today. We should have chips in us, then you’d know where everybody was.” She looks over to me for agreement.

  “That’s a good idea,” I cross my legs to get comfortable in this strange chair and situation. Does she live in the city? How did she get her so fast?

  Brendan argues, “People would find a way to remove them, cut them out. Evil people are just evil people, no matter what you do.”

  Mrs. Clark frowns and fiddles with her ring. “Well, now you sound like your father.”

  “Where is Mr. Clark?” Instantly, I see the answer in their faces, and regret having asked.

  Mrs. Clark looks down for a moment. “He passed away last year. A heart attack in his sleep.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” My chest hurts at the look on her face. “You loved him very much.”

  She nods, absently turning her ring around over and over. “He was the love of my life. A truly good man.” Brendan reaches out and touches her arm, and she clasps his for a quick second before they both let go. “Annie, you own a bar?”

  Brendan interjects, “It’s a nice place, Mom. Around the corner from my house. I’m going to help her make it a huge success as soon as the window gets repaired.”

  “What happened to the window?”

  I wave my hand. “You don’t want to hear all the details.” Brighter, to change the subject, I say on a smile, “I’m thinking of putting in a patio. What do you think about that?”

  Brendan pictures it, mulling it around. “That’s a great idea. It’d be a huge draw. Make it covered, or with a retractable awning for weather.”

  “Oh, I love that! The awning has to be black. God, won't that look great?”

  His mother is watching us, but neither of us is aware of it.

  “With just the sign in silver, yeah. Perfect. Mark said you used Atlas for the font.”

  “I did!"

  “He’s such a geek.”

  “How did he know that?"

  “He works for a softw
are company.”

  “Really? You're kidding." I chuckle to myself. "That's the last place I would have pictured Mark."

  Brendan pauses. His expression shifts. “What do you mean?”

  My heart leaps into my throat as I search to cover my slip. “Normally guys into computers aren’t as…”

  “Gorgeous?” Mrs. Clark fills in, leaning toward me with a saucy look.

  “Mom.” Brendan closes his eyes for a second and grins.

  She straightens up and pretends to smooth her hair. “What? I’m a woman, aren’t I? Mark’s not exactly hard to look at.” I smile, trying to act relaxed, but I’m so freaked out about my fuck-up, I don’t venture speaking.

  “I’m going to tell him you want him,” Brendan smirks.

  Mrs. Clark playfully smacks his leg and stands up, smoothing down invisible creases in her camel-colored slacks. “Oh come now. Give your mother a little fun. Jeez!” Looking to me, she asks, “You two are like two peas in a pod. How long have you known each other?”

  A football-sized lump forms in my stomach and I just stare at her, wondering how I can lie to her. She's so nice! I can’t. I don’t want her to hate me. I want her to like me!

  Brendan comes to my rescue, mistaking my obvious discomfort for guilt at being caught having sex with her son so soon. “We met the night of the robbery, Mom. But we’re two adults, so don’t start judging…”

  She waves away the rest of his sentence. “Now, now. I know. Please. I was in the free sex revolution.”

  My heart is pounding, so the laugh that explodes from me is a bit larger than it should be. They both look over at me, eyebrows raised. “Sorry. I just… It’s a relief to hear that. It’s a little nerve-racking to have someone’s mom walk in on you when you’re… making out?”