by Leslie Kelly
She was soft everywhere, though not weak—he felt the strength of her, especially in those thighs and the arms that had gripped him close throughout the night. But her body was a wonderland of slopes and valleys, all tender, all sensitive, all waiting to be explored.
He moved lower, licking the curve of her breast, tracing the tip of his tongue around her pink nipple.
“Mmm, yes, please,” she sighed. Then she added, “I’m allowed to speak now, right?”
“As long as you focus on telling me how to make you feel good.”
“You do,” she said, running her fingers through his hair, holding him tight to her breast as he began to suckle her. “Oh, so good, Chaz.”
He wanted to make her feel even better. And he wanted to explore her more slowly this morning, as the early sun bathed her with light, spotlighting all the delicious places he’d almost attacked the night before. He was slow and deliberate, gentle and insistent as he toured her body. He kissed her from her breasts to her belly, her hip, all the way down her leg to the tips of her toes, and then back up the other way. Her skin was velvet smooth, the intoxicating scent of female arousal pouring off her. By the time he got up to the top of her other thigh, she was trembling. She arched toward him, silently inviting him to do what he most wanted.
He gently parted her thighs, exposing her to his intimate gaze. She was red and swollen, the wild sex of the night before having left its mark. He pressed his mouth to that tender flesh, licking her gently, wanting nothing but to soothe her into a fever pitch.
It was easy, so damned easy. She rocked against his mouth, hissing when he covered her pert clit and stroked it with his tongue.
“Oh, yes, there,” she begged, her desire making her sound a little frantic. He had learned so much about what pleased her during the night, and knew exactly what she needed and where she needed it. He caressed her clit, sucking gently until her whole body tightened and then relaxed as her orgasm washed over her. She was already so wet, so juicy, but her climax brought another flood of moisture onto his tongue, and he drank her up, knowing he could swallow nothing but Lulu for the rest of his life and die a well-fed man.
“Come back to me,” she urged, reaching for him, tugging at his shoulders.
He couldn’t resist her, and slid up again, returning to his place between her parted thighs.
“That mouth of yours is almost as amazing as this,” she said as she reached down and stroked his cock with the tips of her fingers. “I want to explore you that way, too.”
“Later,” he told her. “I owed you one, remember?”
She sucked in an audible breath, catching her lip between her teeth. He’d reminded her of that night, the one that had been driving him crazy for weeks. They were both thinking of the way she’d gotten down on her knees and sucked him into insanity.
“Chaz, I...”
“Later,” he insisted, tensing. He didn’t want to spoil this with conversation right now. He just wanted to lose himself in her, one more time, before he got the answers he’d been seeking.
So he did. He sank into her, into hot, creamy Lulu, feeling her adjust to him, welcome him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his shoulders, and pressed close. They rocked together, slow, easy, romantic. And when she came again, climaxing right along with him, she whispered, “God, I’m sorry I wasted a month of our lives not telling you the truth.”
He was past replying, falling to the bed, tugging her on top of him and holding her as they drifted back to sleep. But the words echoed, and when he woke up an hour or two later, they were the first thing he thought of.
She was already awake. When he opened his eyes, he found her lying across him, staring at him, her fingers tracing the outline of his lips.
“Good morning again,” she said, her voice soft, almost shy.
“What time is it?”
“Around nine. Are you hungry?”
He shook his head.
“Oh.” Her face fell. “I had hoped I could make you some waffles.”
Waffles. Or pancakes. Or Lucky Charms.
He remembered.
Hell, she was intentionally reminding him.
He stiffened. “Can we do this after I take a shower?”
She played dumb. “Do what?”
“Talk about what a fool you made of me?”
“Oh, no!” Lulu sat up on the bed, the covers falling onto her lap, her beautiful body covered by nothing but her long, thick hair. “That wasn’t it at all, Chaz, at least that wasn’t my intention.”
Realizing he wasn’t going to get his shower—and, actually, not wanting it, now that his indignation was on the rise again, he sat up, too.
“What did you intend, Lulu?” he asked, remembering that night, wondering how on earth he could have spent such intimate moments with her and not seen the truth of it in her eyes when they’d met next. How had he not recognized that mouth, those soft cheeks, that delicate neck?
He shook his head, needing to focus on the conversation, not on how beautiful she was. Not on what a blind fool he’d been.
“I wanted you, so much,” she said, her voice trembling with sincerity.
That tremble got to him, shot right to his heart. She’d opened herself to him fully last night, in every way possible, trusting him, fulfilling him, overwhelming him. He had no doubt she was telling the truth—Lulu wanted him. She had on Halloween night, and she still did.
But he couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t allow himself to soften by looking at her and remembering every heated thing they’d done together. He needed to get a grip, to take a break, splash some water on his face. Calm his racing mind.
“Give me a minute,” he ordered, throwing the sheets back and getting out of bed. Ignoring her tiny sound of protest, he strode toward the bathroom, needing to regroup and prepare for battle.
He came out a few minutes later, having slung a towel around his hips, and found her clad in a short bathrobe, perched on the edge of the bed, as if about to flee.
She didn’t know what to expect from him, unable to gauge his mood. He found he liked having that advantage, and jumped right in. “When did you launch this scheme?”
“It wasn’t a scheme, I swear. I assumed you’d recognized me from across the bar. That’s why I smiled at you. I just figured you came over and asked me to dance so we could catch up.”
“How was I supposed to recognize you when I hadn’t seen you for half a decade? When your hair was red, your face was masked, and you looked like a sex goddess and not the girl next door I remembered?”
She clenched her hands in her lap, twisting her fingers in the tie of her robe. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I recognized you, but I was pretty stunned. You... God, Chaz, I was so attracted to you! I couldn’t believe it, and certainly didn’t want you to realize it. I thought we were playing around and that you knew exactly who I was—at least, right up until you told me your name and asked for mine.”
He remembered. That had been while they were dancing. To think, a few misplaced words, a few assumptions, and none of this might have happened. Ever.
That sobered him. If he had recognized her, if she’d called him by name the moment he’d come up to her table, making it clear she knew him, he’d have figured out her identity. And nothing that followed would have happened. Including last night. Last-amazing-night.
He couldn’t let that sway him, though. The ends didn’t justify the means. The life-altering sex didn’t excuse the lie.
“Once you realized I didn’t know who you were, why didn’t you say something?”
“At first, I thought it was kind of funny, I wanted to tease you.”
“It worked. You teased me. For a damn month.” He swept a hand through his hair, stalking back and forth across the room. “Why the hell did you let thing
s go so far? What we did in that bank vestibule...”
“Was incredible,” she whispered. “I loved every second of it.”
So had he. That wasn’t the point. “And then?”
“I intended to go home with you, but every step we took reminded me that sooner or later, you were going to want to take off my mask. I kept envisioning you doing it when you were inside me, and wondering what your expression would be the moment you recognized me.”
“Shock, that’s for sure.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “Or disgust. Hatred. Humiliation. I was caught in my own trap, wanting you so badly, but terrified you still hated my guts and would regret even touching me once you knew who I was.”
Chaz stopped pacing and stared down at her. “I don’t hate you.”
She looked up at him, her brown eyes luminous, moisture hinting at unshed tears. “I was awful to you when we were kids.”
“Kids being the key word. Now that I know the adult you, I’m not about to hold childhood nonsense against you all these years later. And truthfully? I liked the attention, even if it was mostly negative! I wanted to believe my mother, that you did it because you had a crush on me.”
She laughed humorlessly. “And I didn’t want to believe mine, who said the same thing.”
“Admit it—you were more scared I’d be furious that you’d tricked me about who you were.”
She flushed, looking sheepish. “Well, yeah. That, too.”
“Would you have gone through with it, anyway?” he asked, needing to know if she’d been as out of her mind with desire as he’d been.
She nodded easily. “Yes. I would have. If Sarah hadn’t been sitting on her car out front, I would have walked with you into your house and ripped off your clothes right there by the front door, like we discussed.”
“My clothes. But not your mask.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “Well, not if I could help it.”
Points for honesty, he supposed.
“And then what, you were going to sneak away while my back was turned? Were you ever going to tell me?”
She hesitated. He almost saw the wheels spinning in her mind as she debated how forthright to be.
“Lulu?” he prodded, his tone promising her she’d regret it if she lied.
Finally, she admitted it. “No. At that moment, I just wanted to have you, to store up some amazing memories, and then let us go back to being friends.”
He gritted his teeth, crossing his arms over his chest to control his anger. “That’s pretty damned cold. As is what you’ve put me through for the past month.”
She leapt up and stalked over. “What I’ve put you through? How on earth do you think it made me feel when you started sniffing around that red-haired twit, giving her credit for everything you and I had done?”
“Hopefully it made you feel like shit. Because you deserved to.”
She stilled, visibly deflating as her anger left her.
“Touché.”
They both fell silent for a moment, and he sensed she was as lost in thought as he. The truth had come out, everything was in the open. They’d come so far, shared so much, physically and emotionally. The question was, where did they go from here?
Was it even possible that he and Lulu could have some kind of normal relationship? Did she want to? Did he? And could he ever really trust her after she’d proved herself capable of such dishonesty and stunningly good secret-keeping?
She was the first to speak, and it was as if she’d read his mind. “Chaz, I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me, but please know I truly am sorry. I have suffered for being such an idiot. I’ve learned my lesson, and I promise you, I will never lie to you, or keep secrets from you, ever again.”
He nodded slowly. “I hope you mean it. Because I really hate liars.”
“I know that.” She came closer, twining her fingers in the hair on his chest, licking her lips and looking up at him. “But the truth is, I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose this now that we’ve finally discovered it.”
A smile tried to tug at his lips, but he hid it. “Lose what?”
“This...connection,” she admitted, gesturing toward the rumpled bed where they’d spent so many wild hours.
“You want to keep sleeping with me?”
“As long as we don’t spend all our time sleeping.”
More honesty. More points. He liked this adult, open and blunt Lulu Vandenberg.
“What about during the rest of our waking hours?” he asked, aware that was the bigger issue.
How on earth could the two of them develop any kind of real relationship with all the baggage and all the garbage? Awkward enough to have an affair with someone who lived two doors away—they’d never have any privacy, especially with nosy neighbors and siblings.
It was also crazy to try to maintain any kind of real relationship when he could be off for months to another country after the first of the year.
Plus, they were so different now. He was hard-nosed, always after the truth, after the story. She was dreamy, her bleeding heart worn on her sleeve these days. Passionate about her job with a group he’d heard was shady.
And they knew each other too well, had spent seventeen years living next door to each other, jealous of every shared birthday, fighting over stupid crap like Halloween costumes or holiday parties.
Oh, and then there were their siblings. Their parents. Their families. God, wouldn’t this affair throw all of their relatives into a tizzy as they began taking sides, tensing up, preparing for the inevitable day when Lulu and Chaz, who had never managed to get along very well, imploded and brought both families down with them?
“Stop trying to figure everything out, at least for now,” she whispered, lifting her arms and encircling his neck. She moved even closer, until her bare legs brushed his, and the peaks of those soft breasts pressing against the silk seared his chest.
“What did you have in mind?”
“We’re both off work today, and it’s a long weekend. We don’t have to leave this apartment. We don’t have to make plans or think about anything except spending the next three days exploring every erotic possibility either of us has ever fantasized about.”
His resolve melted, the arguments drying up and blowing away before he’d even had a chance to verbalize them.
She was right. Outside, the world would give them grief.
In here, at least for the next three days, they could pretend that world didn’t exist.
He dropped his hands to her waist and undid the bathrobe tie. “Every single fantasy, huh?”
She nodded slowly, licking her lips, staring at him through eyes glazed with desire.
“Including that one you had last night when I threatened to spank you?”
She sucked in a surprised breath, as if shocked he’d read her mind so easily. Christ, how could he not when she wore her emotions on her face? Well aware what she was imagining—picturing him spanking her, and then making it up to her as erotically as possible—had made it tough to hold onto his justified anger.
“You...you knew what I was thinking?”
“I had a pretty good idea.”
She hesitated, a long, heated moment, before whispering, “Good. Then I won’t have to take the time being shy about what I want. We can just get started.”
10
AS PROMISED, LULU and Chaz didn’t leave her apartment for three full days. They barely left her bed for that long.
They slept a lot, talked a lot, made love a whole lot.
They laughed and played and indulged every erotic whim. She honestly didn’t know where he got his stamina, or how he could get aroused again and again. And again.
He gave her all the credit, which she happily accepted.
Lulu did go to the door when Marcia knocked Saturday morning. Chaz stayed in the bathroom, using a new toothbrush she’d scrounged up for him, and Lulu assured her neighbor she was fine. Making an excuse about not wanting the pregnant woman to catch whatever had made her ill at Thanksgiving dinner, she’d thanked her for her concern and then closed the door—and the world—out again. She’d returned, giggling, to Chaz, who immediately joined her, naked, in her bed.
Wrapped in their own secret world, where jobs, histories, childhood grudges, secrets, lies and families didn’t exist, they lived only for the pleasure they could give to one another.
But their idyll had to come to an end, and Monday rolled around far too soon. It brought with it jobs, commutes, cold weather, the holiday season and harsh reality.
“I should really go back to my place,” he told her as her alarm went off at 5:45 a.m. Monday. “I haven’t shaved since Thursday morning and only have the clothes I wore over here that night.”
“I like that scruffy look on you.” She ran a hand over his stubbled jaw, loving how hot and sexy he looked in the morning, all raw, untamed male. She also liked how that stubble felt on her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Yum. “And it’s not as if you’ve been wearing your clothes, they’re perfectly clean,” she said with an eyebrow wag.
“You keep tearing them off me every time I try to get dressed.”
“Pot, meet kettle,” she said, rolling over and grabbing her shredded pajama top off the bedside table, where she’d tossed it after he’d ripped it open Thursday night. “You did some literal tearing, buddy.”
His smirk was entirely male, entirely self-satisfied. “I’ll buy you another one.”
“Fine. Silk. Victoria’s Secret. Wow me.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Maybe it was.” She got up to head to the bathroom, yelping when he swatted her bare backside as she passed him. “Haven’t you left yet?”