WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR?

by Naomi Horton

  It didn't take nearly as long as he'd have liked, any plans he'd had of making it last gone after the first few minutes. It was hard and fast and good, and when he got there first, he was smart enough to just go with it, knowing she'd take longer, that they had plenty of time, that it would be better this way. He didn't rush it, but neither did he hold himself back, and when it finally happened, he just let it explode up and through him like a juggernaut, groaning her name with savage satisfaction.

  And then, laughing a little at her first look of mild apprehension, he deliberately and slowly took her the rest of the way. She started to argue at first, saying it was all right, that she didn't mind, giving a shocked little gasp of surprise when she realized what he intended to do, blushing and embarrassed at the easy intimacies he was taking.

  But then he reminded her it was hardly the first time, and that if you couldn't trust your best friend who could you trust, and that he was enjoying it almost more than she was … and after a distrustful moment or two, she let him love her the way he wanted to. And then she gave another indrawn gasp a moment or two later, this one of raw pleasure, and all her arguments were forgotten under his artful ministrations.

  It took no time at all, his sly fingers and tongue finishing what his body had started, and she sobbed his name and tried to writhe away, but he held her firmly and watched her ride through it, up and over and down, crying out again and again as the spasms rippled through her.

  Grinning a little, feeling fatuously pleased with himself, he eased himself up and along her trembling body and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him. He could feel the tiny aftershocks still quivering through her and her heart hammering against his as she relaxed into his embrace, spent and dazed.

  They lay like that for a long while, comfortable and relaxed, listening to the rain pound down on the roof of the cabin. He got up once or twice to poke the fire and add another log or two, then would stretch out beside her and pull the blanket over them. They made love again not too long afterward, this time slow and long, eyes locked, not saying a word until near the end.

  Then he reared up onto his knees and lifted her across his lap so she was kneeling astride him, and she laughed and tangled her fingers into his hair and kissed him. And then she was loving him with wild, fierce intensity, her slender body moving like flame on him, uninhibited and joyfully greedy as she pleased herself again and again. And only then did she take the same ferocious joy in pleasuring him, taking a long, delicious time to make it so good for him that Conn had his doubts he'd be able to even move after it was over, let alone make love again anytime soon.

  They spent the entire afternoon like that, storm forgotten, picnic and Devlin Electronics forgotten, everything in the world forgotten but the two of them and the small oasis of pleasure they inhabited. Andie got up once and made tea and rummaged around in the cupboards until she found a package of shortbread cookies. While she was doing that, Conn discovered that the sofa pulled out into a huge, soft bed.

  He poked through the closet until he found extra sheets and blankets and an armful of pillows, and he made a deep, warm nest in front of the fire for them. Andie brought the tea and cookies over and they snuggled down against a pile of down pillows in a tangle of arms and legs, naked and warm and pleasantly tired, while the storm roared outside.

  They got distracted after a while, and Conn set the tea and the rest of the cookies on the floor and turned to her with a glitter in his eyes that had nothing to do with the firelight. And in a little while he slid between her thighs and eased himself deep, deep into her welcoming warmth, in no hurry at all, each slow, lazy thrust of his hips just a prelude to the pleasures ahead.

  They took their time, pausing now and again to catch their breath, shifting a little, trying something new, something old. Conn finally wound up half lying against a mound of pillows on his back with Andie above him, and he watched her through desire-slitted eyes as she lifted her arms and ran her fingers through her thick hair, back arched slightly, breasts lifted. She seemed in no rush, thighs clamped around his hips, her weight fully settled over him.

  He'd planted his hands on her slender thighs, fingers splayed against the pale flesh, and he simply relaxed and watched her, loving the way the firelight flicked on her damp, warm skin as she moved, loving the shadows and curves of her, the thrust of her full little breasts, the whiskery weight of her pelvis astraddle his.

  Her gaze met his just then and she smiled that Andie smile he knew and loved so much, and he found himself grinning back, knowing what she was thinking, knowing he didn't have to say a thing. It was like when they'd been kids and had practically been able to read each other's mind, knew now as then what she was thinking and feeling. Knew by the change in her breathing and the hunger in her eyes that she was getting closer, smiled again as he watched her take everything she needed, trusting him to let her do this, trusting him to help her, to know even better than she when it was time.

  She caught her breath on a soft moan suddenly, lower lip between her teeth, her movements becoming uneven, almost urgent, and when he responded by starting to move under her at just the right moment, she moaned again and arched her back, thighs loosening. She seemed to shiver slightly and he moved his hand to where they were joined and started to caress her lightly and she sobbed something, clutching at his forearms for support.

  He took her to the very edge of it and halfway over, and then very deliberately rolled over so she lay beneath him and finished it then and there, each strong, hard thrust of his body making her cry out with pleasure until finally it caught her and swept her away. She gave another sharp, startled cry, this one of pure satisfaction, and he followed it an instant later with one of his own. They collapsed, out of breath, panting into each other's arms, hearts hammering, and it occurred to Conn that he'd be perfectly content to stay up here with her for the rest of time.

  They slept after that, tangled up in each other's arms in the fluttering shadows cast by the fire. Andie half wakened a couple of times and lay there in the half darkness, warm and sleepy, listening to the rain and watching Conn sleep beside her.

  How easy it would be to convince herself that it could be like this forever. That from this day on she'd awaken every morning and find herself tucked close against him, thighs still gently aching from hours of lovemaking, and feel his breath on her cheek.

  Too easy. In spite of herself, Andie smiled slightly. She knew it wasn't real. In a little while they were going to have to figure out how they were going to get back down to the lodge, and then Beck would be back and the negotiations for Becktron would continue and this brief magical interlude would be over.

  She and Conn would share a day or two of secret smiles and promises to get together, but they never would. Back in the office, the magic would fade. She'd become Andrea Spencer again, administrative assistant and best friend, and things would be awkward for a day or two while they tried to figure out how to fit this afternoon into the real world. It wouldn't fit, of course, and finally they'd just let it go, savoring the memories now and again, maybe even teasing each other about it.

  But it would have to end. He didn't love her, and they had no real future together. She couldn't just let herself slide into a relationship with Conn that consisted of easy sex and no commitment. She had too much pride for that. And it would hurt too much, being with him and knowing it was just a matter of time until he met someone he thought he loved and wanted to marry.

  So … smiling, she reached out and touched his cheek with her fingertips, aching with love. Wanting him so badly she felt hollowed out and empty, coreless.

  No delusions, she told herself fiercely, shutting her eyes tightly at the threat of spilling tears. And no regrets.

  It was almost dark when she awakened again. The fire was snapping nosily, flames leaping, and she sat up sleepily and looked around. Conn was up, standing by the window at the front of the cabin, looking outside. He was still naked, firelight burnishing the pla
nes and angles of his lean body, and she sat there for a silent moment, smiling as she watched him.

  Only then did she realize how quiet it was. The fire crackled softly, but the rain had stopped.

  "Has the storm blown over?" She shivered slightly and pulled the sheet up around her shoulders.

  Conn glanced around, a smile tipping one corner of his mouth up. "Not exactly. You'd better come over here and see this yourself."

  "Why? What's wrong?" Frowning, Andie slid from between the sheets, grabbing up a loose blanket and wrapping it around herself. "Jeez, it's cold in here!"

  "I hope you weren't in any hurry to get back to the lodge."

  Andie smiled as she walked toward him. "Not particularly. But we should start thinking about how we're going to hike down. It's a long way."

  "Well, we're sure as hell not going anywhere tonight."

  "Why?" She stepped beside him and looked out the window. "What – oh my God!"

  Snow. The entire world had vanished under a thick blanket of snow. And it was still coming down, huge soft flakes spiraling out of the twilight sky like goose down. The trees were already covered with it, heavy boughs drooping under the weight, and the ground was nothing but a blanket of white. And it was silent, absolutely still; there was not even a breath of wind. Just the big tumbling flakes spilling down in a curtain so thick, she couldn't even see the edge of the clearing that led down to the lake.

  "The temperature must have dropped while we were asleep," Conn said.

  "What on earth are we going to do?" Andie looked at him, not quite frightened but decidedly uneasy.

  "Stay in bed," was his reasonable reply. His grin widened lazily, eyes holding hers in a warm embrace. "You have a better idea?"

  "Well…" She looked back out at the snow. "We can't stay up here forever."

  "Someone will be looking for us. But not even the company copter can get through this." He reached out and slid his arms around her and tugged her against him. "We've got food, firewood and sex, darlin'. I can't for the life of me think of another damned thing we need." His mouth browsed along the nape of her neck. "With luck, it'll snow for a week."

  "And Beck?"

  "Beck who?" He nipped her earlobe, his hand making an interesting foray beneath the blanket, caressing her breasts with comfortable familiarity.

  Andie smiled, relaxing against him, feeling his body already start to respond to the promise in hers. His hand slipped lower, then lower still, and she had to catch her breath at the sudden intimacy of his caress. She could see the room behind them reflected in the darkened glass, the flames flickering in the fireplace, the rumpled bed.

  Breathing a little unsteadily, she watched their reflections as Conn deliberately tugged the blanket open, continuing to caress her, his hand moving slowly, erotically. Above her head, his reflection smiled a slow, knowing smile, watching her watching him.

  "Want to go back to bed for a while?" His voice was just a husky purr, and his eyes glowed a little dangerously.

  Andie wet her lips, already so aroused that it was difficult to breathe, wondering how it was possible to feel this way this soon. She should be exhausted, should never want to even think about sex again let alone some of the things she was thinking right now.

  "Y-yes. Oh…" She shut her eyes and sagged against him. "Oh … please."

  "So soon? I've barely even started."

  "I know. Oh … I know! This … this can't be happening. It's impossible. Impossible."

  And sometime later, dazed with sensation, listening to her own voice lifting through the stillness of the room in short, breathless cries of pure pleasure as Conn moved strongly and steadily in the hammocking cradle of her thighs, she discovered it wasn't impossible at all.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  By dawn it had stopped snowing, and they awoke to a world so dazzling white, it took Andie's breath away. Her clothes were dry by then, or pretty much so, and she pulled them on hurriedly while Conn tried to coax the wood stove in the kitchen to cooperate long enough to boil water for coffee.

  Pulling the cabin door open, she took a deep breath of crisp, cold air and laughed aloud, squinting against the brilliance. The sky had cleared and was so deeply blue, it hurt to look at it, and the snow was already melting, water pitter-pattering as it dripped off the eaves and drooping pine boughs and trickled down the path in a dozen noisy little streams.

  She walked outside and turned her face up to the hot sun, thinking a little wistfully that it would have been nice if it had snowed for a week. Or at least a day or two longer.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Conn, who'd gotten the stove going and was dumping coffee into an old percolator he'd found, whistling to himself. He'd pulled on his jeans but nothing else and was padding around in his bare feet, looking rugged and competent and just a little disreputable, hair tousled, lean cheeks sporting a fashionable morning-after stubble. One look at him and you knew what he'd been up to all night.

  Grinning, she scooped up a handful of wet snow and sidled back into the cabin, trying to look innocent. Or as innocent as it was possible for a woman to look, she amended, after spending the rowdy night she had.

  Conn glanced up at her and smiled. "So?"

  "So, what?"

  "So, how are you this morning?" His smile widened. "We haven't spent a lot of time talking since we woke up an hour or so ago."

  "Oh, I'm just fine." She broke into a wide grin. "But I think you could use some cooling off."

  Conn knew something was up the instant he looked at her, but it wasn't until the snowball hit him square in the chest that he realized what it was. He let out a yelp and leapt back, swearing, trying to paw it off him. He missed a lump and it went slithering down his belly and he swore breathlessly again as icy water trickled into his jeans.

  Andie gave a whoop of laughter and Conn grinned, starting to slowly circle the end of the island and move toward her. "Not a good idea, darlin'. Not a good idea at all."

  Still grinning, Andie started backing toward the door. "You're in your bare feet, Devlin," she reminded him quite practically. "I have my boots on. And you are not going to chase me outside in your bare feet."

  "Try me!"

  He made a lunge for her and she gave a yelp of laughter and bolted for the door, and Conn swore as she slipped out of his grasp like an eel and was outside before he could stop her. He was after her in the next heartbeat, not even bothering with shoes, and as she scampered across the veranda and down the stairs, he vaulted the veranda railing and caught her easily. Grabbing her around the waist with one arm, he intended to lift her up and carry her back inside, but he was off balance and the ground was slippery, and instead they both landed in a tangle of arms and legs in the nearest snowbank.

  Conn got on top of her and held her hands, grinning down at her. "What were you saying about getting cooled off?"

  "Connor! You're nuts! You're going to freeze your—"

  "Say you're sorry, wench. Better yet, give me a kiss."

  "Connor!" Half strangling on laughter, Andie wriggled and fought under his weight, then capitulated with a grin. "One kiss."

  "Maybe two." He rested his mouth on hers, nibbling her lower lip. "On second thought, how about an even dozen?"

  "We're going to get soaking wet again," she murmured, already slipping her arms around his neck.

  "Then we'll have to take everything off and hang it up to dry," he whispered back, already starting to unbutton her shirt. "And stay in bed all damn day…"

  "Better than staying out here all day … I'm starting to freeze!"

  "I'll warm you up," Conn murmured, tracing a line of kisses along the upper swell of her breast. "I can think of at least a couple of—"

  Andie had gone still, head turned slightly as though she was listening. "Conn, I hear something. Isn't that a—"

  "Helicopter," he growled, turning his head to watch as the chopper came clattering up the valley, following the edge of the la
ke. "Hell." He blew out his breath and rested his forehead on her cheek, swearing again under his breath. "I think we just got rescued, darlin'."

  Although it was too damn bad they couldn't have waited a day or two, he thought savagely, getting to his feet reluctantly. He reached down and tugged Andie up, then realized he was standing ankle-deep in melting snow and winced, making his way back to the cabin veranda.

  The helicopter made a quick turn and came back, low enough that the downdraft from its rotors whipped up a froth of wet snow and lashed the pine trees, sending needles and small branches flying. It made a pass over the cabin and Conn lifted his arm in greeting, then let it drop by his side, wishing he could send whoever was aboard back down the valley for a day or two.

  Instead, he simply watched it land with a fatalistic calm. It was the Becktron copter, and he wondered idly if Marc was piloting it. He glanced at Andie and grinned to himself. Too late, buddy. The best man did win.

  But it wasn't Marc. The pilot was someone he didn't know, and the other two people aboard were Frank and Margie, both looking tired and frightened. Frank was out and running toward the cabin before the copter had even landed properly.

  He grabbed Conn's outstretched hand in a ferocious grasp, then pounded him on the back. "Man, am I ever glad to see you two! You had us scared to death!"

  Conn winced, realizing that he hadn't given a thought to the concern their disappearance might have caused. Andie, trying to hastily button her blouse and stuff it back into her jeans, gave him a quick guilty look, obviously thinking the same thing.

  "We're okay. Andie's horse threw her, and when I was helping her up, they both bolted."

  "I've never been so scared!" Margie's face was pale and she looked as though she'd been crying. "When the horses came down, we wanted to come up and look for you right away, but the lower trail was washed out."

  "We called in the search-and-rescue people," Frank explained, "but by then it was snowing up here like there was no tomorrow and they couldn't send a plane or even a chopper up. We figured you'd found the cabins, but…" He gave his head a shake, his long homely face serious. "I'm telling you, Conn, you gave us all a bad night."