Discovering You

by Brenda Novak

  “And there’s still the rest of you,” she said. “That feels like plenty to me.”

  “I’ll give you all I’ve got,” he promised and found her lips.

  India loved the way he kissed. As eager as she was to experience what was coming next, she refused to rush this part and was glad he didn’t seem to be in any hurry. He paid attention to every nuance, every reaction, and made the most of what he learned. She liked how he drew her out of her hesitation and her fears and managed to get her to completely relax, forget, trust. He seemed to care about what she was thinking and feeling and wanted to engage her mind before engaging anything else. The tender way he touched her face when their tongues first met was a perfect example. She almost thought she could be satisfied just making out...

  “When you’re so good with your lips, you don’t need even your hands,” she told him.

  He lifted his head to smile at her. “We’ll still use what we’ve got.” He ran his fingers down between her breasts to show her that his hand could bring pleasure, too. Then he sat up to remove his own shirt. When his bare chest came into contact with hers, India blocked out any lingering doubts floating around in her head. She just wanted him to kiss her again and again.

  “My heart’s never pounded so hard,” he whispered with a husky laugh.

  Could that be true? she wondered as he began to explore the rest of her body. He acted as if being with her was special. Did he treat every woman this same way? She had no answer, but for a brief moment she was tempted to pull away and hurry home. Returning to her house, in spite of Sebastian, suddenly felt safer than staying here—and that told her a great deal.

  But she’d started this. She couldn’t bail out now.

  Besides, she knew she’d be sorry if she left. Whatever Rod had to offer, she wanted.

  “I can make it pound harder,” she said and slipped her hand into the basketball shorts he’d worn to bed.

  When her hand closed around him, he groaned, and that made her feel desired, powerful and as beautiful as he said she was. “What do you think?” she asked. “Do you like that?”

  “I like you,” he replied.

  They were getting carried away. But any thought India had of trying to rein this in, even on an emotional level, was gone with the rest of their clothes.

  “Tell me you have condoms,” she whispered, already cursing herself for hoping he wasn’t at the store earlier, buying some.

  “I do. And I’ll use one. But we’re not ready for that quite yet.”

  “Why not?”

  He held her chin as he made eye contact. “Because we’ve got all night. I plan to enjoy you in other ways first, and since I can’t use my hand, we’re going to plan B.”

  India didn’t mind plan B. Plan B was probably most women’s plan A. She closed her eyes as he kissed his way down her stomach and had to bite her lip so she wouldn’t cry out when he spread her legs.

  * * *

  Rod had always loved women, probably a little too much. He figured it came from growing up in a houseful of boys. All five of them were the same—a little too fixated on the fairer sex. That was part of the reason he and his brothers had the reputations they did. He’d enjoyed his previous encounters, but this...this was even better.

  Rod loved the way India tried, at first, to stifle her reaction, to be reserved and subdued. She fought to keep her self-control, as if holding back would create some emotional distance. But she couldn’t manage it, and nothing was more fun than watching her succumb to his lovemaking. It was almost as if they were wrestling in a swimming pool. She’d break free and start for the edge, and he’d catch her and drag her under again. Except that she liked going under; she just didn’t know how to deal with feeling so powerless.

  There were moments when guilt stood between them, when she seemed ready to bolt. But he couldn’t hold that against her. If she could relegate him to the category of nothing but a cheap thrill, like she’d tried to do the night they met, she wouldn’t have any reason to feel guilty. It was the guilt that told him this wouldn’t be the same with just any man.

  He was prying her away from Charlie, and he was using sex to do it. Charlie couldn’t give her that. Rod felt bad about what had happened to the guy, but even if Rod stayed away from her, it wouldn’t change the fact that Charlie was gone. Besides, when it came to India, Charlie possessed every other advantage. Sex would work, in the way Rod wanted it to work, only if there was something deeper, and it was that deeper element that made this so spectacular.

  When her thighs began to quiver and she groaned despite herself, he nearly rose up and buried himself inside her so he could experience her climax more intimately. But he didn’t want to frighten her by suddenly getting too assertive. He was going slow, trying to build her confidence and draw out the pleasure.

  But all of that fell by the wayside after her climax. Soon, they were completely intertwined, touching and tasting each other everywhere. And she seemed as overcome as he was, no longer even tried to break free of the power that bound them together. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me,” she said. “Where are the condoms?”

  He’d been holding off for her benefit, not his, so she could get all she wanted or needed of the other physical aspects. He wasn’t too confident he’d last once he started to thrust inside her. He felt dangerously close to the edge right now, with her bare skin moving against his and her hands— God, she was talented with her hands.

  He was glad she was eager to have him where he wanted to be. It was particularly gratifying that she’d asked for that final, intimate step, even though she’d already come.

  When he settled himself between her thighs, she gripped his ass as if joining with him was the supreme moment, and within minutes he was trembling himself.

  “Give me a second,” he breathed, staying completely still so their lovemaking wouldn’t be over too soon. “Let me make you come again,” he said, but she didn’t need any special effort or encouragement. They were both so aroused that bringing her to a second climax didn’t take any work. Their bodies moved instinctively, in perfect rhythm, straining to get closer, to be more connected—until he heard her breath catch and felt her jerk beneath him. Then he knew he’d reached his goal, and burying his face in her neck, he abandoned all restraint, letting the pleasure he’d been holding at bay flow through him.

  After that it wasn’t remotely hard to fall asleep.

  * * *

  The alarm went off a few minutes later. Actually, it felt like minutes, but it was really four hours. Rod hated to get out of bed. He wanted to stay and make love to India again. They were all tangled up in each other, still naked, so he felt he’d be passing up the perfect opportunity.

  Except he’d be late for work, and then his brothers would come pounding on his door. Even if he wasn’t conscious of protecting India’s privacy, which he was, he planned to avoid the ribbing that finding their neighbor in his bed would provoke. If he could...

  With a sigh of regret, he kissed her shoulder and got up to shower. He didn’t usually shower before going to the shop; he showered after, since that was when he most needed it. But he thought he might smell of her perfume.

  “Everything okay?” she asked with a sleepy yawn.

  “Fine. I’ve got work. But you’re safe here. Sleep as long as you like.”

  “You’re not the only one with things to do,” she mumbled. But he could tell she was joking, because she didn’t bother to prove how busy her schedule was by dragging her butt out of bed. She rolled over, taking the covers with her, and he chuckled as he stepped into the bathroom.

  Rod showered quickly, pulled on his jeans and a clean T-shirt and was about to head down for some breakfast when he heard a knock on the door to his deck. He couldn’t imagine who it could be, especially this early.

  Sebastian came to mind. Even thoug
h India’s ex would have no way of knowing she was with him, it was the thought of the man who’d killed her husband that made Rod walk over to see who was there. And then he wished he hadn’t—although it would’ve been worse if India had been forced to get up and answer the door.

  “Hey, Theresa.” Keeping his voice down, he stood in the gap so she wouldn’t be able to see there was someone in his bed. Theresa worked as a hairstylist. She usually didn’t begin her day until ten or so, and yet she was completely ready. “What are you doing here?”

  She raised the basket she had in her hands. “I decided to bring you some breakfast. You know, to prepare you for a long day at work.”

  Unsure how to respond, he hesitated. He didn’t want to lead her on, but he also didn’t want to be rude or hurtful. “Actually...”

  “What?” she said. “You love scrambled eggs and bacon. I’ve even got some fresh-baked muffins in here. You’d have cold cereal otherwise, right?”

  That was true. He ate cold cereal or a quick bowl of oatmeal almost every morning and liked nothing more than a home-cooked meal. He hadn’t had the privilege of growing up with parents who made dinner—or parents at all. He’d been raised on microwave food, unless Dylan was on a health kick. Then they ate vegetables and lean meat, with no salt or sugar—nothing that could possibly be called “comfort food.” Maybe that was why they all loved Just Like Mom’s. There, they could get homemade chicken potpie, meat loaf and potatoes, chicken-fried steak with potatoes and gravy, and the best pies in the world for dessert—all the things Rod imagined his mother would’ve cooked if she’d decided to stay around. “I do like scrambled eggs and bacon, and it was really nice of you to go to so much trouble, but after what you said last night, I’m not sure I feel comfortable accepting it.”

  She lowered the basket. “I could see that surprised you. To be honest, it surprised me, too. I didn’t plan to tell you how I feel when you were on a date with someone else. But it’s true, Rod. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I feel we’ve had enough of a relationship that I should have the right to fight for you.” She held out the basket a second time. “So please, take this. And don’t worry that eating my food means you owe me anything. I’m just giving you a sample of what I can offer. What I’d like to offer. If you stick with me, I’ll be your biggest supporter, your biggest cheerleader. Think about coming home to a hot meal and a willing woman every night.”

  Rod was flattered, but this was even more awkward than if she’d gotten angry. The conversation had probably awakened India. He felt certain she was listening. “You have a lot to offer any man,” he said. “I’m not sure I’m the right one.”

  “Other women may be prettier or more exciting. I can see why you’d be interested in your neighbor. But no one could ever be more devoted to you than me.”

  She was really going for the close... He cleared his throat. “I appreciate that.”

  “Please, take this,” she said. “And enjoy it. I liked making it for you. Someone with your past might not believe a woman will see it through if and when the going gets tough. But I’m here to tell you I’m not like that. I’d never hurt you.”

  Rod didn’t have the heart to let her continue holding that basket, so he took it. “Theresa, I’m sorry. I...I don’t even know what to say. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Then don’t. Give me a chance.”

  “But—”

  “You don’t have to answer now. Just...think about it. Think about me,” she said, and with a hopeful smile, she left.

  “Am I already getting in the way?” India asked when she was gone.

  Rod sighed as he shut and locked the door. “No. You’re fine. Are you hungry?”

  “You’re going to share the breakfast she made with me?”

  “What else can I do? Let you go hungry while I eat?”

  “Seems weird, that’s all.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I had no idea she’d show up here—or say what she did last night. Until now, she’s let me call the shots.”

  “Because she thought she had you—or that you’d eventually get where she wanted you to go. Seeing you with me spooked her.”

  “I guess so, but...there’s nothing I can do about that.”

  “Listen, I don’t want to cause you any problems.”

  He wasn’t happy to hear what she was saying. She’d raised her guard again. He was tempted to climb into bed with her, to reassure them both that what they’d shared had been real and that having the sun come up didn’t suddenly put them in a new situation. But then someone tried to open his other door and ended up knocking on it instead.

  “Rod?” Grady called. “You awake? Why’s the damn door locked? You think anyone here cares if we see your bare ass?”

  India had jumped at the noise and pulled the sheet she clasped to her chest that much higher. But when Grady mentioned his bare ass, her lips twitched as if she was about to smile.

  “I’ll be out in a sec!” Rod said.

  “Hurry, or you’ll have to drive over on your own. We gotta go. We can’t be waiting for you all day.”

  “Fine. Head on over. I’ll be there shortly.”

  “Okay. See you soon.”

  Rod listened to his brother’s footsteps recede before lowering his voice to address India. “Relax. Nothing’s changed.”

  She still hid her breasts behind that sheet as if she was too self-conscious to do anything else. “I’m not sure we should take what happened last night too seriously.”

  “What happened? You make it sound like we played no active role in it.”

  “Fine. What we did. We...we’re both leading very complicated lives.”

  He frowned at her. “Here we go.”

  She peered at him more closely. “What does that mean?”

  “Are you running scared already?”

  “Last night was a...a bit overwhelming.”

  “The hottest sex I’ve ever had,” he admitted.

  She blushed. “I liked it, too. You’re amazing in bed. But...”

  “But?” She’d paid him such a generous compliment, he was almost afraid to hear what came next. Was she setting him up? Would she bring up her dead husband—wimp out on him?

  Fortunately, she didn’t. She straightened her spine, and her nostrils flared slightly as she said, “Yes, I’m running scared. You frighten me because...because you make me feel so much, and I’m not ready.”

  “Because of Charlie.”

  “Yes, because of Charlie.”

  He relaxed. “Good.”

  She blinked at him. “Did you hear me? I said I’m not ready.”

  He put the basket on the nightstand so she could eat after he’d left. He was too late, didn’t have time. “But you’re interested, whether you want to be or not. That’s what matters.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I can’t make any promises about forever, India. I won’t pretend I’m the most reliable man in the world. Not when it comes to love. So I’m not asking you to make me any of those promises, either. Life’s always been one day at a time for me. All I know is, right now you’re the one I want. I’m approaching whatever happens between us honestly, moment by moment. Can you do the same?”

  She glanced over at the picnic basket, obviously remembering the woman who’d brought it.

  “Don’t worry about Theresa.” He gestured as if he could erase the recent past. “It’s different with you.”

  “Why? In what way?”

  “How can anyone explain attraction?”

  “You should stick with her.”

  “What?” He’d never had a woman tell him something like that before. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m not in a position to gamble, Rod!”

  “Quit thinking about tomorrow! How do you feel right now?�
�

  “It’s not that simple. Everything we do leads somewhere. We have to look farther down the road.”

  “No, we don’t.” He couldn’t talk any longer; he had to go. “With this hand I’m not much good to Dylan at the shop. He wants me to swing by to get a list of parts and then drive to Bakersfield today. Can we revisit this later?”

  She nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.” But he wasn’t done quite yet.

  Grabbing the sheet, he arched an eyebrow to see if she’d willingly release her grip.

  She hesitated but eventually let go, and he tugged it down. “I won’t be home until evening.” He gazed at what he’d revealed and felt his body react. “But I hope you’ll be here, just like this, waiting for me.”

  13

  After Rod left, India got up and went into the bathroom. As she washed her hands, she caught sight of her wedding ring and paused to stare at it. What was she doing? What was she getting involved in?

  Rod had just admitted that he wasn’t particularly reliable when it came to love. She’d heard Theresa say something that made sense, too—about his past making it difficult for him to rely on a woman. He hadn’t been able to rely on his own mother when he most needed her, when he was young and vulnerable, and she’d been the only female in his life. It stood to reason that he’d be hesitant to allow himself to depend on other females, who, in his mind, had far less reason to stand by him.

  But could any guy predict how he might feel in a week, a month, longer? They’d barely met. And he’d been honest with her so far. She couldn’t accuse him of being superficial, of being interested in only a booty call. He could’ve had that Friday night, and he’d refused.

  Anyway, she wasn’t asking for a commitment from him. She couldn’t be with anyone right now, least of all someone her in-laws would not approve of.