Carnal Compromise

by Robin L. Rotham

  A hand settled on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  AJ. He paused. “Just banged my knuckles. They’re fine.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” she said softly. “I’m guessing you two didn’t work things out last night.”

  “No.” He looked out over the corn stubble.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Brent steeled himself and he moved on to the next strap. AJ’s quiet sympathy was a balm to his wounded feelings, but it was like sticking a Band-Aid on a stab wound—one false move and his grief and rage over Joe would come gushing out all over some innocent bystander.

  Swallowing the acid taste in his throat, he looked at her and said, “I’m fine.” Then he had to go and add, “But if I were you, I wouldn’t offer to let Joe touch you without a condom again.”

  The raw pain in Brent’s eyes took her breath away.

  Oh God, please tell me Joe didn’t go and do something stupid last night. Surely he hadn’t been that flipped out by what happened between them. Hell, he was the one who’d controlled the whole situation from beginning to end, and he was the one who’d walked out as if neither she nor Brent meant anything to him.

  But now that she thought about it, his reactions had seemed pretty extreme last night. Good Lord, no wonder he’d felt guilty about not being with Brent—he’d been with someone else.

  The bastard. And he’d had the nerve to get on her ass about abandoning Brent!

  AJ held out her hand. “Give me the winch bar.”

  Brent didn’t move. “Why?”

  “I need it to deliver a message to that fucked-up son of a bitch.”

  He tried to frown at her but reluctant amusement spoiled the effect. “I’m afraid I’ll have to veto that plan—for now. After the season’s over, he’s all yours.”

  “What makes you think I’ll want his skanky ass?”

  Brent finally laughed under his breath and slanted a reproachful look at her. “AJ, AJ, why do you wanna go and spoil my shitty mood?”

  “Because your shitty mood is everybody’s shitty mood?” she said lightly.

  He sobered. “It shouldn’t be. That’s why I stayed out alone last night—I wasn’t fit company for anyone. Then I ran over a bunch of wire and spent a couple of hours getting it loose from the reel. Be glad you weren’t there to see me vent my spleen on the header,” he added with a small grin. “I think I kicked a couple more dents in it. But I’m sorry I didn’t call you again. Joe said you’d waited up.”

  “Whoa, he really spread the guilt around last night, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he told me he came down on you, too, and I’ll tell you what I told him—I’m a big boy and I know how to use the phone if I need help.” He slanted one dark blond brow. “Got it?”

  “Got it,” she answered with a precise nod, feeling as though a lead weight had been lifted from her chest.

  Then he smiled. “I missed you last night.”

  Shit. Her helpless heart started beating a crazy rhythm and she ordered it to calm down. Apparently it couldn’t differentiate between a romantic declaration and casual affection.

  Her brain, fortunately, could.

  “I’ll bet you did,” she managed to say with a sassy grin. “Pulling wire off the reel is a bitch when you’re by yourself.”

  His smile faded and they looked at each other for a long, awkward minute. “Well, I guess we’d better get back at it or we’ll never make it out of town.”

  “God forbid,” AJ joked. Then she stuck her hands in her coat pockets to keep from holding an L to her forehead as she walked away. God, she was such a loser! Obviously she’d forgotten everything she ever knew about flirting with men.

  “Hey, AJ…”

  She froze and then turned her head to look back. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for making me laugh. I feel a lot better.”

  Well, that was better than nothing. She smiled at him. “I’m glad.”

  By the time they pulled up in front of the camper that evening, Joe had had a bellyful of AJ’s snit. He’d been prepared for a degree of coolness from both her and Brent after the way he left them last night, and aside from a small twinge in his gut, it hadn’t bothered him when they both kept their distance this morning. That had been his goal, after all—maintaining some distance between them. It wasn’t a pleasant job but it had to be done. After a day or two, their annoyance would fade and things would gradually get back to normal.

  But for some obscure and no doubt hormone-related reason, AJ had gone from cool to seething around midmorning, and for once, Joe had been more than happy to drive one of the semis across Iowa by himself. His hopes that her coolness, if not her usual sunny disposition, would be restored by the drive were crushed when they arrived in Elton at noon. It took them a few hours to hook up the campers, unload the equipment, mount the corn heads and top off all the fuel tanks, and whenever AJ said two words to him, they’d been delivered in a pissy tone that was seriously getting Joe’s back up by the time they got in the field.

  It started to rain around eight o’clock, so they all secured their equipment for the night and met at Pizza Hut for a subdued supper. Then the three of them had made the dark, wet drive to the camper in complete silence, with AJ in the backseat.

  Brent left the engine running and kept his eyes on the side of the camper, which was illuminated by the truck’s high beams. “I’m headed over to Stu and Val’s for a couple of hours.”

  Joe wasn’t surprised. They were harvesting crops for Brent’s uncle, Stu Mercer, and no matter how late they finished, he always stopped by for a visit the first night they were in town. Every year he used some personal time to put up corn stalks for Stu, even though the old man had long since gotten rid of his cow herd and had no need for bedding in the winter. The stalks were just lying around going to waste, he said, so it made sense to bale some just in case. And against all odds, most years he wound up selling all his bales.

  After a long pause, AJ got out into the pouring rain. “See you in the morning, then,” she said expressionlessly as she shut the door.

  Joe sat there for a moment longer, wishing he could joke around with Brent about her foul mood but knowing the joke would fall flat. Dammit, this kind of tension was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. How the hell had everything gone to hell between them so quickly?

  He got out without a word, and Brent backed up and drove off.

  The minute he stepped into the camper and got a look at AJ’s mulish face, the back of his neck prickled with irritation.

  “So what crawled up your ass and died?” he asked, pulling off his jacket. Although the camper was higher-end and well-constructed, the sound of rain pounding on the roof was almost deafening.

  She didn’t look at him as she hung up her coat and cap and tugged off her wet boots. “It’s not going to work this time, Joe.”

  He leaned down to grapple with his own boots. “I give up—what’s not going to work?”

  “Your laying a guilt trip on me because you feel guilty about getting laid last night.”

  Although he flinched inwardly, he managed to maintain his cool expression. “Why should I feel guilty about getting laid?”

  She cut him a derisive look. “That’s something you need to be asking yourself, not me. I’m taking a shower and going to bed.”

  He ground his teeth as she turned and walked into the bunkroom. That’s something you need to be asking yourself. What kind of pompous, cryptic shit was that?

  Let it go, Joe, just let it go. There was no winning an argument with a woman—no point in even trying, especially when there might be a tiny grain of truth to what she said. Okay, so maybe it was a sizable grain. He had come down on her unfairly last night and he should probably apologize for it.

  But dammit, whatever went on between him and Brent was none of her damn business in the first place. The fact that she’d passed judgment and come down on Brent’s side of the matter really pissed him off. Brent was a grown man—he
didn’t need a fucking advocate, especially a skinny little female farmhand.

  He was still standing there steaming when she emerged from the bunkroom wearing only a tank top and panties, and holding a pile of folded clothes. She hesitated when she saw him but then straightened shoulders and stalked toward the bathroom.

  “Excuse me,” she said as she brushed by.

  The bathroom door closed with a quiet click and he scowled. Obnoxious brat. Did she think that because she’d lived through some hard times, that made her the freaking Dalai Lama?

  Unable to resist, he tried the doorknob and was surprised to find it unlocked. He opened the door and propped his shoulder on the jamb to stare at her through the glass. “I don’t recall asking you to psychoanalyze me, AJ.”

  “I don’t recall asking you to watch me shower, either, but there you are.”

  The sassy little shit might already be getting used to being naked in front of him, but she wasn’t putting on a show for him. She soaped her body all over in quick, economical swipes that weren’t the least bit provocative. That didn’t keep him from getting hard while he watched.

  “You know,” he said, unable to take his eyes off her misty outline as she shampooed her hair, “it really isn’t any of your business or Brent’s if I got laid. You both knew going into this that I don’t do commitment of any kind, and if I want to fuck someone else, I damn well will.

  “That being said,” he continued loudly when she tried to interrupt, “I didn’t get laid last night so you can both quit looking at me like I ran over your damn dog or something.”

  In fact, he’d had his shittiest night in years. While he was out trolling, one of the young locals he’d hooked up with a few years earlier, Evan something or other, had given him a hard hug and sat down next to him at the bar to renew their acquaintance. Though Joe had no intention of sleeping with the guy again, he’d shared a couple of friendly drinks with him. Then Evan had tried to talk him into another trip to the motel down the road and he hadn’t accepted Joe’s polite refusal with a smile. Instead, the fucker had gone into a full-scale tizzy, ranting about what a bastard Joe was.

  In no mood to humor anyone, Joe had stood up to leave and told him, “Hysterical shit like this is exactly why I don’t fuck gay guys anymore.”

  He’d gotten what he deserved for that crack. Evan took a swing at him, and though he’d managed to duck out of the way, Joe hadn’t been able to duck out of sight. He’d had to endure both wide-eyed scrutiny and narrow-eyed censure from dozens of men and women as he threw a couple of bills on the table and walked out. It wasn’t an experience he’d care to repeat.

  AJ wiped a face-sized circle on the inside of the foggy door and stared at him. “So why does Brent think you did?”

  “Because he made an assumption I didn’t bother to correct. It shouldn’t matter whether or not I got laid. It never has before.”

  “He’s never gone down on you before.”

  “And that’s supposed to change everything?”

  She stepped back to rinse the shampoo out of her hair and a flowery herb scent tinged the humid air. “Not everything.” You moron. She didn’t say it but he heard it loud and clear in her tone.

  “It’s not supposed to change anything. It hasn’t with you,” he pointed out. “You’re only pissed off because Brent’s got his panties in a bunch.”

  “Yeah, Joe, I’d be the biggest idiot in town if I thought sex with me changed anything for you.” Her arid tone made him grind his teeth as she continued. “But I’m just your booty call. Brent’s your best friend, and if you value his friendship at all, you need to quit putting the moves on him or you’re going to ruin everything. Best friends can’t be casual fuck buddies, and I think you know that. It’s why you haven’t pushed him harder.”

  “Thank you for that brilliant analysis, Dr. Phil,” he said snidely.

  “Fuck you, Joe,” she fired back, cranking the water off and stepping out onto the bathmat. She scrubbed her head with a towel off the rack. “You need to apologize to Brent for walking out the way you did the other night and then leave him the hell alone. Or is your masculine pride so important to you that you’ll sacrifice years of friendship just so you can say you’ve fucked him?”

  “Fuck yourself, AJ,” he growled. “It’s not masculine pride that—”

  He caught his breath. Shit, what the hell was he saying? It was pride, wasn’t it? Brent Andersen had become a challenge he was determined to win—that was all there was to it, all there could ever be. That was why the idea of never fucking the man stuck in his craw so bad.

  AJ dried her back as she eyed him curiously. “Then what is it?”

  “Okay fine, it’s pride,” he said grudgingly, unable to keep his gaze from wandering down her lithe body. “I bow to your superior female powers of perception.”

  She snorted. “Liar.”

  Joe straightened away from the door frame. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing,” she muttered, looping the towel over the rack. “I’m sorry I ever brought it up.”

  She tried to brush past him, but he blocked the doorway with his body. “Oh no. You’re not going anywhere until you explain that remark.”

  She planted her hands on her hips, thrusting out her neat little tits in a way that was hard as hell to ignore. “I’m not explaining anything to you, Joe Remke, and I’d bet my last dollar you don’t really want me to. Frankly, I doubt you’re mature enough to handle it.”

  “I’m not mature enough!” he snarled, infuriated and exhilarated and ready to throw her against the wall and fuck her hard enough to leave an AJ-sized dent in the laminate.

  “That’s what I said.” She lifted her chin. “Now get out of my way so I can go to bed.”

  He leaned down until they were nose to nose. “I never realized you were such a bitch, AJ.”

  “And I can’t figure out why I ever liked you,” she spat back, not backing down an inch. “You’re a complete asshole.”

  He touched the tip of his nose to hers. “Are you as turned on as I am?”

  “More!” she declared.

  Breathing heavily, they stared each other down for two more seconds. Then they dissolved into helpless laughter.

  Joe snatched her naked body against him and hugged her tight while she beat her fists against his chest. “Why, Diane, when did you shave your pussy?”

  After another screech of laughter, she gasped, “I can’t believe you watched Cheers.”

  “Why not?” he asked, still grinning. “I can relate to losers who have nothing to live for but the bar.”

  Her laughter trailed off, and she looked at him just long enough to make him uncomfortable. “No fair making me laugh,” she finally said. “I’m still mad at you.”

  “And I’m still tempted to spank your ass, you little brat.”

  AJ gaped at him. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  He leaned down until his forehead touched hers. “Oh honey, you’ve got a lot to learn about me.”

  Chapter Eight

  When he tried to drag her out of the bathroom, AJ clung to the doorframe like a cat. She was strong, but there was no way she could hold out long against a man who weighed damn near twice what she did.

  “You better not!” she cried, giggling as she kicked and twisted in his grip.

  “What are you gonna do, tell on me?” he taunted.

  “I might!”

  He surprised her by stepping forward, and caught off balance, she reached for his arms. Before she could blink, he grabbed her wrists and spun her around.

  “Now I’ve got you,” he breathed against her sensitive neck.

  She writhed, too breathless to even laugh. “Dammit, Joe!”

  He heaved her off the floor and carried her into Brent’s room. Two seconds later, she was facedown over his lap, beating his denim-covered calf with both fists. “This isn’t funny!”

  “Not from this angle either,” he murmured, holding her with one arm over her r
ibs while he ran the other hand over her butt.

  AJ hadn’t been strictly joking when she said she was turned on by their argument, and now his hot caress and the pressure of his thigh low on her belly were wreaking all sorts of embarrassing havoc with her innards.

  The rain on the roof and the rumble of distant thunder only intensified the electric mood in the room.

  She licked her dry lips as her heart tattooed a furious rhythm against his thigh. “Joe, you don’t really want to do this.”

  “Believe me, AJ, I really do.” His hand left her ass. “This is gonna hurt, little girl.”

  “Wait—”

  Slap! His palm landed on her right cheek with the sting of a hot iron. “Ow!” she yelled, squirming in his hold. “Not so hard, you son of a bitch!”

  He spread his knees and held her ribs more firmly against his other thigh. “Maybe you need it a little harder.”

  “Hell no, I—” Slap! Her other butt cheek caught fire. “Ow!” she cried again.

  “This’ll feel better if you relax, AJ.”

  “Relax, my ass.” She’d meant to sound harsh, but there was a dismaying quiver in her voice.

  “Exactly. When you tense your cheeks, it doesn’t feel nearly as good. Or so I’m told,” he added before swatting both cheeks again in quick succession.

  “Dammit, Joe,” she whispered, dangerously close to tears. “You can’t do this to me.”

  “I’m keeping you from falling off my lap, AJ, not holding you down. You can get up and walk away anytime you want to.”

  Damn, busted. AJ let her head hang. Now she was on the spot. If she stayed where she was, she was tacitly admitting that she wanted him to hurt her this way. If she got up and walked away, she’d deprive herself of another devastatingly carnal fantasy.

  He rubbed a hand over her butt again and she whimpered as his calluses scraped her hot, tender flesh. “You know how to make this feel good, don’t you, little girl?”

  She bit her lip.

  “Relax and get your cunt square over my thigh,” he told her.

  Cheeks stinging with embarrassment, she obeyed, squirming until her clit rested firmly between his hard thigh and her own pubic bone.