Lucy was sort of bobbing her head, and Josh couldn’t tell if she was agreeing with him or thinking hard. Or both.
Then she moved. She unbuckled her seat belt and turned to face him with her entire body. “Like what?”
The hairs on the back of Josh’s arm stood up. “What do you mean?”
She scooted toward him on the old bench seat. “What are some things that a man doesn’t do to his friend?”
Josh didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure he could find his voice, not with Lucy sliding toward him, an odd look in her eyes.
“Like what?” she repeated more softly. There was a note to her tone that hadn’t been there earlier and Josh couldn’t help but think that she knew what he was trying not to say.
“Why do we have to talk about this?”
“Because,” she said, reaching out and tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertips, “I think I understand now.”
“Understand what?” But he was already leaning toward her, letting her pull him in closer. He had no idea what she was talking about, but he didn’t care.
He simply did not care. He felt raw and exposed, as if someone had scraped off the top layer of his skin, and he didn’t want to hurt anymore. He didn’t want to think about his dead wife. He was tired of grief and sorrow, and he just wanted to get over it and he couldn’t. He didn’t know how.
Lucy was close enough to kiss now. Her breast brushed up against his arm and the warmth from her body calmed his raw nerves. “I understand.” But she didn’t kiss him and he wished like hell she would.
Because she was going to have to do it this time. There wasn’t going to be any more confusion about this. If she wanted him, she had to come to him.
She tilted her head to one side and something in the air between them changed. “Will you come upstairs?”
“Lucy...” But already his body was responding to hers—her scent, her warmth. And what he really wanted was to go back to where they’d been earlier this evening. “If I come upstairs—”
“Stay,” she whispered against his mouth. “Because I’ve missed you, too, Josh Calhoun.”
It wasn’t much of a kiss, the way her lips, light and sweet, brushed over his. It wasn’t a kiss of passion or possession. But it was something else entirely—it was hopeful.
What the hell were they doing still sitting in the cab of his truck? Because he wasn’t a teenager anymore—getting it on in the vehicle no longer held any appeal. “I want to strip you out of those clothes and lay you out on that bed and I don’t care who hears us,” he told her as he wrenched off his seat belt.
“Yes,” she hissed. “I want you on top of me, inside of me—oh, God, Josh.”
Somehow, they got out of the truck and into the building. Josh pulled her into his arms and fell back against the wall next to the elevator. “You’re really sure?” he asked, trying to convince himself that whatever she said would be okay.
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” she told him. And then she grabbed his butt. The feeling of her hands on his body did mighty interesting things to him. It had been so long...
He didn’t want to think about that. Not right now. Instead, he wanted to figure out a way to make this night last for as long as possible.
He slid his hands over her body. She responded beautifully, arching into his touch and rubbing her breasts against his chest. But before he could do anything else, the elevator doors opened and Lucy dragged him inside.
There was an itch in the back of his mind, a question he didn’t have the answer to. What did she understand?
But that question was buried under the sensation of Lucy pulling him down into her, Lucy digging her hands into his butt, Lucy moaning in his ear as he palmed her breast. “I want you so badly,” she whispered as she raked her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth to her.
Hell, that was all the permission he needed. He flattened her back against the wall of the elevator and hooked one leg over his hand, lifting her up so he could thrust against her.
“Oh, Josh,” she moaned as her head fell back, exposing her neck. As he ground against her, he trailed his lips over her pale skin. “I want this shirt off you,” he growled as he skimmed his teeth over the spot where her neck met her shoulders.
“Yes, yes,” she panted as she clung to him.
Then the elevator dinged. Josh had to set her down and let her get her keys out, and the pause gave him back just enough self-control. He hadn’t done this in a long time and he didn’t want to screw it up. He wasn’t under any illusions that this was going to be a regular thing, because she was in Chicago and after he left, he didn’t know when he’d come back. He didn’t know if he would come back for her.
So this had to count. It was so tempting to throw her on the bed and thrust into her until he came with mindless pleasure, but this was Lucy. She deserved more than that and he was going to give it to her.
“Sorry,” she said, shooting him a guilty look over her shoulder as she fumbled with her keys.
He leaned down and put his lips against the back of her neck. “Nervous?” As he asked this, he settled his hands on her hips and began rubbing small circles with his thumbs.
She shrugged and got the door open. “Maybe a little.”
He followed her inside, unwilling to break the physical connection. “We’ll take it slow. I want to make this so good for you.” He kicked the door shut behind him and leaned against it, pulling her back into him. His arms went around her waist and he just held her.
The feeling of her body against his—he had missed this. Five years of sleeping alone, of taking care of his own needs quickly—it hadn’t been about pleasure. It hadn’t been about want and need and another person. He almost wanted to laugh. Because for the first time in years, he didn’t feel the crushing loneliness. And that was thanks to Lucy.
“It’s all right,” she said in a soft voice as she reached up and slid a hand behind his neck.
Of course, it was all right—everything about this was just fine. Still, her words had an oddly reassuring effect on him and he hugged her even tighter. Then he began to move. Because a man couldn’t get lucky if he stood by the door all night long. He splayed his hands over her ribs and began to stroke up, then down. “I want to take this off.”
“Please do,” she said, and underneath his lips, he could feel the pulse in her neck begin to beat faster.
He skimmed his hands up over her breasts to the buttons of her shirt. Slowly, he undid one and then the next until the entire shirt was open and he could slip his hands underneath. Her skin was warm to the touch—and touch it he did. He trailed his fingertips over her waist, over the smooth front of her bra. The whole time he stroked her, he kept his lips against her pulse and listened to her breath in his ear.
He wanted to make this all about her. Because this was Lucy. If all he cared about was getting laid, he could’ve accomplished that easily at any point in the last five years.
But he didn’t just want to get off. He missed making love.
So that’s what he was doing tonight. He was going to make love to Lucy with everything he had. They didn’t have to worry about dating and that awkward getting-to-know-you period, and they didn’t have to worry about long-term relationships. He already knew Lucy and he already liked her and he already loved making her gasp in that little way she was doing as he stroked her nipples with his fingertips.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asked as he felt her nipples stiffen under his touch. He began lightly pinching them.
“Oh, Josh,” she whimpered as he teased her flesh.
“Yeah, that’s it, babe.” One part of his brain wanted to remember that Sydney had always liked it when he played with her breasts, too, but he pushed that away. His wife was gone and he wanted to believe with all his heart that she would want
him to do this. She would want him to grab a little bit of happiness, even if it was only for one night. Sydney would want him to find a piece of himself again with an old friend whom he could trust.
He relinquished Lucy’s left breast and began to slide his hand lower, over the soft planes of her stomach and then down over the front of her pants. She sagged back against him and he was happy to carry her weight. Earlier, on the couch, he had just wanted to make her come. It had almost been as though he needed to make her come to prove that he hadn’t forgotten how. But now he wanted this to be slow and sweet and so good that neither of them ever wanted it to end.
Her breathing got more labored as he rubbed slow circles against her sex. She clutched at his arms with her hands and shifted against him, the pressure of her bottom against his erection pushing any rational thought from his mind. This was what he wanted—not thinking, just doing. Just feeling.
Suddenly, she gasped and her fingernails dug into his arm. “Bed,” she ordered. “Now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He half turned her and leaned down so he could sweep her into his arms. She’d always been a small thing.
“Josh!” she squeaked as he settled her against his chest.
He grinned down at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated wide—so wide, he almost couldn’t see the blue in her eyes anymore. “I’ve got you,” he reassured her as he carried her into the bedroom and over to the bed. He found the gap in the sheer curtain she’d hung around it and pushed it open. He sat her down on the bed and got rid of those doctor shoes she was wearing. Her socks quickly followed and then he took his time peeling her shirt off her arms.
“Look at you,” he said, his voice wavering as he stared down at her. Her bra was what Sydney had always called serviceably beige—a plain beige. It wasn’t all that sexy—but on Lucy? “I don’t remember you having this body back in high school.” He knelt on the bed so he could undo the bra.
“I didn’t,” she said, angling her body so he didn’t have to stretch as far. “I was the definition of a late bloomer.”
Josh was out of practice, so it took three tries before the bra hooks gave successfully. He tossed the bra to the side. “Wow, Lucy, your breasts were worth the wait.”
Because they were fabulous—full and rounded and high on her chest. He fell to his knees before her and just took a moment to appreciate the beauty that was the female body.
She reached over and started working the buttons on his shirt. “Your turn,” she said as she began to strip him.
She got his shirt off, but when she went for his jeans he pushed her hands out of the way. “Patience.” He didn’t know if he was admonishing her or himself.
“I’m tired of being patient,” she told him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
He thought she was going to say something else, so he cut her off the only way he knew how—he leaned down and wrapped his lips around her nipple. He sucked her into his mouth and was rewarded with a ragged gasp of pleasure. She threaded her fingers into his hair again and held him against her.
He was so hard in his jeans that it was becoming physically painful. He wasn’t going to last. All of his good intentions about laying her out and making her scream were not going to amount to a hill of beans if he couldn’t find a little more restraint.
But he couldn’t help it. God, she felt so good in his mouth, under his hands. “Oh, Josh,” she kept repeating as he sucked and licked and nibbled at first one breast, then the other. Somehow he managed to get the button and zipper of her pants undone. Reluctantly, he relinquished the hold he had on her nipples and laid her back on the bed so he could get her pants off.
As he stared down at her, he had a weird feeling of being out of time—that this was something that should’ve always happened, but the timing just hadn’t been right.
“God, Lucy” was all he could say as he peeled her panties off her, and then she lay bare before him. Something clicked in his mind, and one word popped to the front of his consciousness.
Mine.
“I don’t know how you think we’re going to have sex if you stand there and stare at me all night,” she said with what he hoped was an ironic smile. She lifted her foot and nudged his crotch. “And we’re going to have sex—right?”
The next thing he knew, Josh was stripping out of his jeans and kicking off his boots—and coming to a dead halt. Oh, no.
“Josh?” Lucy pushed herself up and stared at him with new concern on her face.
“I don’t have anything,” he said in a shaky voice. “I didn’t plan on this—I don’t have any condoms.” And he was no longer some stupid kid who could talk himself out of using one because “nothing would happen.” He absolutely would not risk Lucy’s health and safety with an accidental pregnancy just because he wanted to get laid for the first time in five years.
“Oh.” Everything about her wilted. But then she perked up again. “Wait!” She threw herself off the bed and hurried to what Josh assumed was the closet. She hauled out a huge blue duffel bag and crouched down—which provided Josh with one hell of a view of her backside—as she rifled through it. “I think—oh, thank God.” She stood up and turned around, holding three small foil squares in her hand. “I keep a fully stocked medical kit—for emergencies,” she said, suddenly looking shy again. “You never know.”
“I think this qualifies as an emergency,” Josh told her. His erection heartily agreed.
She looked so innocent with that little grin on her face. “Will this be enough?”
That made Josh laugh out loud. “Babe, I’m not eighteen anymore.” He took the condoms from her and pulled her into his arms again. As he kissed her, he realized that they fit together. God, it felt so good to hold her.
He lifted her up and laid her on the bed. Later, there would be time for niceties like oral sex and lots of foreplay. Right now, he couldn’t wait—not a minute longer. He knelt between her knees and tore open one of the condom packets. She stared at him as he rolled it on. “Okay?” he asked.
“Okay,” she said breathlessly. “I never...”
He leaned over her and reached down between her legs. She was wet to the touch, so ready for him. “I never thought this would happen, either. But I’m so glad it is. Lucy, you have no idea how glad.”
She bucked at his touch and threw her arms around his neck. “Me, too,” she whispered as he positioned himself against her.
Slowly—as slowly as he could manage—he began to thrust into her.
Very slowly.
Too slowly.
“Don’t stop,” she said, clinging to him. Something wasn’t right, but before Josh could ask her—maybe they did need to take the time for some oral sex—she kissed him, hard, while pulling him down into her. “Now,” she demanded. “Now, Josh.”
Her body gave a little against him and her fingernails dug into his back, pushing him forward. With a grunt, he sank into her. The feeling of her wet warmth surrounding him, taking him in—it short-circuited something in his brain. She moaned as her back arched and Josh couldn’t hold himself back anymore.
He gave himself up to the sensations. Everything he had he gave to her. At one point, her nails bit into him so deeply that he had to grab her wrists and hold them over her head. “Oh, God, Josh,” she whispered in a high, tight voice as she moved underneath him, rising up to meet him over and over again.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asked as he stroked into her. He held both of her wrists with one hand and propped himself up so he could drive in deeper. “You like it hard like that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, her head thrashing from side to side as he buried himself in her body. “Make me come, Josh,” she begged.
They were pretty, sweet words—and he hadn’t known how much he needed to hear them until Lucy said them. He c
ouldn’t let go until she went first. Somehow he was able to shift so that he still had a hold of her wrists but he was sitting farther back on his knees so he could reach down between her legs and stroke his thumb over her clit. It didn’t take much pressure—a few gentle strokes timed with a few hard thrusts—and her head came up off the pillow, her mouth open as she completely came apart.
Josh fought against the urge to let go. Instead, he forced himself to take in every memory of this moment. This was what he hadn’t gotten on the couch earlier—the sight of Lucy letting go.
He’d done that. He’d given that to her. He still could.
It was nothing compared to what she was giving him.
It was only when her orgasm had passed and she’d fallen back on the pillow, panting, that Josh followed her over the edge. He leaned forward and kissed her hard as he pumped two, three more times. And then he came. The sweet release, her body surrounding him—God, he’d missed so much. So much.
He fell onto her and rolled off, not wanting to crush her. When he released her wrists, she threw her arms around him and held him tight. They didn’t say anything.
What was there to say? He didn’t know. He didn’t have any words right now.
Finally, he pulled away and rolled out of bed. “I’ll be right back,” he said. It was then—and only then—that he glanced down and saw the blood.
Nine
“What the—Lucy?”
Something in Josh’s tone made Lucy open her eyes. She didn’t want to. She wanted to pull him back into her arms and curl around his chest—God, what a chest—and drift off into sleep. She wanted to wake up that way, too, and then she wanted him to hold her down again and make mad passionate love to her again and again and again.
She met his gaze and then he looked down at his penis. So she looked, too. She was allowed to look. They were lovers now and lovers got to openly stare at each other’s naked bodies whenever they wanted, right?
Claimed by the Cowboy Page 9