New Year's Eve at the Corral

by Debra St. John

  Say something, she pleaded silently. Tell me what you’re thinking so I know what to do.

  The crowd around them started counting collectively, like a bomb ticking closer to detonation. Tina stood mute in the circle of Nick’s arms. She wasn’t ready. Her indecision deepened as the seconds flew by.

  “Three, two, one…Happy New Year!” Horns blew. Cowbells clanged. Confetti fluttered from the ceiling. People whooped and hollered. Auld Lang Syne filtered through the room’s speakers.

  “Happy New Year, Tina.” The words were soft, intimate, and despite the noise and chaos around them, the rest of the bar faded as Nick framed her face and drew her toward him. Suddenly she didn’t have to decide because his lips were on hers. Stroking. Insisting. Yet gentle in their persuasion.

  She gave in, answering the demand, and trying to convey, without words, the emotion rolling through her and filling parts she hadn’t realized were empty until now. She lost herself in the sweet oblivion of his kiss. More perfect than she ever imagined. More right than she ever thought possible.

  It could have been minutes or hours or days, but eventually she became aware of her surroundings again. Wolf whistles joined the cacophony of sound.

  “It’s about time,” someone called.

  Nick pulled away. He leaned his forehead on hers. “Can you get someone to cover the rest of your shift?”

  Tina nodded. Swallowed. “I’m sure Darla will.”

  “I’ll get Evan to cover mine. Meet me outside in ten minutes?”

  January 1—12:15 a.m.

  The brisk air did nothing to cool the heat of desire flowing like molten lava through Tina’s veins. The kiss had decided her. She had to have Nick. Even if it was for only one night. Even if he didn’t love her. If this was the only chance she’d get, she was going to make the most of it. Clichéd or not, she wanted to sleep with her best friend and wring every possible erotic, sexy, wild benefit out of it.

  No looking back. No regrets. Even if it changed everything.

  Nick laced his fingers through hers, then brought their joined hands up to trace a knuckle down her cheek. The wind tugged at her hair. He smoothed it back with his free hand, using the motion to cup the back of her neck.

  His lips were warm against the chill of her own. His kiss started like a semi doing ninety down an open stretch of road and throttled up from there. Tina responded in kind. Tongues tangled. Breath mingled. She stepped closer to melt against him.

  Eventually he tore his mouth from hers to suck in a deep breath. “Why haven’t we ever done this before?”

  “You know, that whole friendship thing.” Could he hear the slight tremble in her voice?

  “Friendship is overrated, don’t you think?”

  At the moment? “Most definitely.” Come the morning, would she change her mind? No regrets, she reminded herself. “Would you think I’m too forward, too easy, if I said I wanted to go to your place?”

  “No. If you did this with every guy you met…but I know you. You don’t take this kind of thing lightly.” Even in the dim glow of the parking lot lights, his gaze shone with deep intensity. “So I have to ask. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I’m sure.” She kissed him. “I want you, Nick.”

  A fierce, triumphant gleam lit his eyes. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

  12:45 a.m.

  Nick tossed his keys on the table next to the door. He turned to her. “Do you want something to drink?”

  Tina draped her coat over the arm of the couch. “No.” She hadn’t taken a sip of champagne at midnight. She didn’t want to blame alcohol in any way shape or form for tonight. This morning?

  After Nick shrugged out of his jacket, she splayed her fingers on his chest. His heart pounded against her palm. She stroked to the hem of his black shirt, then slid her hand beneath the cotton to touch his skin.

  As he sucked in a quick intake of air, she took the opportunity to explore the ridged outline of his abs. How many times had she seen Nick without a shirt horsing around at the lake? Dozens. She’d even admit to ogling the with-a-body-like-that-he-should-be-an-underwear-model physique. But she’d never fully appreciated the firm muscle covered by smooth, warm flesh.

  She took her time. Fanned her fingers over his pecs. Although his breath quickened, other than that he was still, allowing her to investigate at her leisure. As his heartbeat accelerated, so did hers, until they beat in tandem. The steady thud vibrated through her.

  After swirling her finger around his navel, she slid her hands to the indentation at the small of his back, then up again, taking his shirt along.

  When she reached his armpits, he exploded in a blur of movement, yanking the shirt over his head. Ah that’s the ticket. A feast for the eyes as well as the touch.

  “You’re looking at me like I’m something to eat,” he growled.

  “Maybe you are.” She traced an invisible line from his collarbone down to his bicep.

  With another animal-like noise, he cupped the back of her head and lowered his lips to hers. He plundered, took, demanded, but gave so much more in return. His tongue delved into her mouth and touched the tip of hers. A flare of white heat burst in her stomach. Drizzled lower.

  When the kiss ended, she was panting. Literally salivating. Wanting more. Wanting Nick.

  Nick, who was so familiar, yet so different as barriers crumbled and lines blurred and she discovered new sensations. New emotions. All at the behest of his seeking hands and his oh-so-talented mouth. The newness wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Quite the opposite. There was no uncertainty. Just a soul deep sense of rightness, as if it was predetermined this was always meant to be.

  He tugged the shirt over her head. Flicked open the button at her waistband. The zipper rasped as loud as their breathing. Her jeans hit the floor, and she stepped out of them. His followed. All the while he expertly divested them both of their clothes, his hands, lips, tongue never stopped teasing. Tantalizing.

  Then he stilled with his fingers at the clasp of the front closure of her bra. One finger stroked the swell of flesh above the cup. A shiver danced through her. “Last chance to change your mind.” His voice was ragged. Unsteady. “After this, there won’t be any turning back.”

  “I’m not changing my mind.” It was already too late to turn back. How could she? Now that she knew what he tasted like. How his heated skin scorched her palms. How the thrust of his full, hard erection stoked a fire deep, deep inside the very essence of her being.

  Through his boxers she wrapped her hand around him. He jerked. The breath hissed between his teeth. Then, they were naked, although neither seemed to have moved, as if the last tangible barriers had simply melted away.

  Her fingers stroked flesh over steel instead of soft cotton. His thumb feathered over the tight peak of her breast. A trembling began at the tips of her toes and spread until even the roots of her hair tingled. Along with every place between.

  He tumbled them to the couch. Yanking open the drawer of the coffee table, he groped inside and tossed her a square packet.

  “Handy.”

  He looked deep into her eyes. Searched. Communicated. She read the honesty there even before he spoke. “I haven’t had a girl here in a long time.”

  Joy filled her to join the tingle. She smiled. Kissed him. Tore the packet open. It stretched tight to accommodate him. “Don’t these things come in sizes? You should invest in the XLs.”

  Laughter rumbled through his chest and into her.

  As he flexed his hips and entered her in one smooth stroke, she too stretched to fit him, in a very pleasing way. As he filled her, the intangible barriers disappeared. Bodies joined. Mouths fused. Splinters of herself broke free and became part of him. Instead of feeling their loss, the empty places were filled with pieces of him in return.

  Her body echoed the rhythm of the thrust and withdrawal of his. Their hearts beat together at the same frantic pace. She clutched him closer. He sank deeper. Tension built.
Wound. Tighter and tighter.

  Until the world imploded. At the same time, he exploded. As if choreographed to the precise moment, they came together in a whirl of light, sweat, and heat. Zigzags of color flashed behind her eyes. He bucked against her, muscles taut. A guttural moan tore from his throat. Her whimper blended with the harsh sound.

  Slowly the overpowering sensations receded, leaving Tina with a weightless lethargy that seemed to have liquefied the very marrow of her bones. Nick sighed into her neck. A shiver whispered through her. One of completion. Not urgency. For now.

  When his breathing slowed, he withdrew and turned away from her for a brief moment. Then he settled her against his side and pulled the afghan off the back of the couch to cover them both.

  He kissed her temple. “Happy New Year.”

  “Happy New Year, Nick.” She didn’t say anything more, although her heart urged her to add three little words. Those three little words that would change everything. Again.

  Making love to Nick confirmed everything she’d refused to admit before tonight. She loved him. But how did he feel? They hadn’t spoken of feelings. When they’d spoken at all it was of want and desire and need.

  He hadn’t promised anything beyond the night. She hadn’t asked. So how did she tell him she wanted a lifetime of New Year’s kisses from him? What if he didn’t feel the same?

  2:00 a.m.

  Tina stirred beside him. Her arm lay across his chest. Nick feathered his fingers over the soft skin.

  “I thought you would fall asleep.” She’d lain quiet in his embrace but hadn’t drifted off.

  He hadn’t either. There would never be another first time with her, and he wanted to savor it all.

  “I couldn’t.” She hesitated. “Too many things in my head.”

  He could relate. The one-eighty his life had done in the last twelve hours made his head spin. “Talk to me.”

  “I knew this wouldn’t be enough.”

  “Not enough?” His ego deflated faster than a penis faced with a pockmarked whore. Well damn. Apparently what had been earth shattering and life changing for him was dissatisfying for her. His soul shriveled like a prune.

  As always, she read him. “Not this.” Her arm swept out to encompass the rumpled cushions on the couch. “This was…I don’t have any words. Better than I ever imagined all these years.”

  Hope stirred. “You imagined us like this?”

  “Of course. Didn’t you?”

  “Obviously. I’m a guy. This is all we imagine and think about.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But you did too? Really?” Ugh. He should lose his balls for the pathetic, needy question.

  She poked her finger through a hole in the open weave of the afghan. “I didn’t want to admit it. Even to myself for a long time. We were friends. I was determined not to be that kind of friends. I didn’t want to ruin things.” She finally met his gaze. “You mean too much to me.”

  “What changed tonight?”

  “Darla dared me to sleep with you.”

  Like taking a blow to the solar plexus, the air whooshed from his lungs, leaving him empty. Utterly, completely empty. After long, agonizing seconds that seemed like hours of not being able to catch his breath, he dragged in a painful gulp of oxygen. “You slept with me because Darla dared you to?” It was like someone poured one-hundred proof tequila on his already shriveled soul. And shoved the worm down his throat for good measure.

  “No. I mean, sort of. That is, she put the idea in my head. I knew if I didn’t do something about it, tonight, I would regret it.”

  “So that’s all this was? A dare?” Hurt mixed with anger. Somewhere beneath the aching combination was the realization his intentions at the beginning of the evening hadn’t been any better. The anger was stronger than the epiphany of self-awareness.

  She laid her hand on his arm. The soft touch immediately took the edge off. “No. This was more about what she said later. About us being, you know…in love.”

  Everything inside him went still and suddenly he was full again. He lifted her chin with his finger. He had to see her eyes. The rest of his life depended on her answer. “Are you in love with me, Tina?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t blink or look away. “Please don’t be mad.”

  “Why the hell would I be mad?”

  “I know tonight wasn’t about that…for you.”

  “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” He shook his head. “No, of course you do. You’re right. At the beginning of the night I just wanted to get into your bed. Or get you into mine.” Which technically he hadn’t accomplished. At least they’d made it to the couch.

  She bit her lip. Plucked at the blanket again. “See?”

  He framed her face and forced her to meet his gaze. “I was going crazy with wanting you. When Darla said that, I realized it was true. The reason I wanted you so damn badly was because I was head over heels in love with you. I was just too stupid to realize it.” Too stupid to see he had everything he ever wanted in Tina, even if he hadn’t known he wanted it.

  She placed a finger on his lips. “No.”

  He kissed the digit and nibbled on the tip.

  “What if everything changes now?”

  “Everything is going to change now.” Everything already had.

  “Don’t you see? That’s why I didn’t want to admit it either for so long. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

  “You won’t.”

  “And…”

  “And?” How many more excuses would she come up with?

  “Aren’t we like every other friends to lovers couple in the world?”

  “So?”

  “Shouldn’t it be different? Special? A unique story?”

  “Our story is unique because it’s about us. That’s what makes it special. Who cares if I can open up a hundred books and read a story like ours? I fell in love with you because you’re kind. Compassionate. Beautiful. Funny.” He punctuated each word with a kiss. “You know each and every one of my flaws, and it doesn’t matter to you.

  “If that makes me sound like every other love sick fool on the planet I don’t give a shit.”

  She stroked her palm down his cheek. A soft smile curved her lips. “You know that’s one of the things I love best about you. You never mince words. You just say it like it is.”

  “Damn straight. So let me tell you what else I love about you. I love that your bottom teeth are slightly crooked even though you had braces when you were thirteen. I love that when you discuss something you’re passionate about, your eyes light up and you gesture like crazy with your hands. I love that when you’re bored you fiddle with your jewelry. And I love that even though you can’t carry a tune in a bucket, you sing along with every song on the radio, with the windows rolled down. Should I go on?”

  Her eyes were wide with wonder. “You see all that in me?”

  “That and more.” He pounced, bracketing her between his arms and legs. “We have the rest of our lives to expound on each other’s virtues. Right now, I have other things I’d like to explore.” He tugged the cover down and circled her nipple with his forefinger.

  She arched off the couch with a half moan-half gasp.

  “I love how you respond to me. But first, tell me you love me again.” What d’you know? His heart was as greedy as another particular organ demanding attention.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Now no more talking. Shut up and kiss me so we can enjoy the moment.”

  She laughed and did. Softly at first, but with an intensity that built like a shot of liquid cocaine burning into his belly when her lips softened beneath his and her body melted against him.

  Yep. When you were in love with her, the friend zone rocked.

  A word about the author…

  Debra St. John has been reading and writing romance since high school. She always dreamed about publishing a romance novel some day. Her dream came true when she started writing su
ltry contemporary romance with sexy heroes and spunky heroines for The Wild Rose Press. Although she’s a country gal at heart, she lives in a suburb of Chicago with her husband, who is her real life hero.

  She is the author of The Corral Series, which includes her debut release, This Time for Always, a Champagne Rose and Rosebud bestseller at The Wild Rose Press. This Can’t Be Love and This Feels Like Home complete the series.

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  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

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