Will sank down into the cushion one over from me, then unearthed our combo meals from the bag he’d set on the coffee table. He unwrapped one of the sandwiches, lifted the bun slightly, then handed it over. Obviously the one without the onions.
We ate in silence, which was fine with me. Will had never been much of a conversationalist to begin with. I had lost my spirit, and wasn’t ready to launch into a tirade about how he had wronged me, especially not now that he was trying so hard to be so nice. Yes, my head injuries had made me soft.
Before I wrote the whole evening off as a total loss, I reminded myself that there were plenty of hours left to change my tune. That, of course, was assuming that Will didn’t take the initiative to change it for me.
He ate fast, probably a habit borne out of necessity from his time on the police force. So when he was done, I still had half my burger to go. He leaned back against the sofa, rubbing his temples and trying to pretend that I wasn’t annoying the hell out of him.
As soon as I crumpled up my sandwich wrapper, he rose from the couch and disposed of our trash. Then he leaned against the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, crossed his arms over his chest, and let a grin spread across his face.
“What?” I asked. “Are you going to let me in on the joke?”
“Now,” he drawled, “it’s time for you to take off your clothes.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Excuse me?”
The grin grew bigger, if that was possible. “You heard me.”
“I take it that your pickup lines haven’t gotten any smoother since we last hooked up.”
He rolled those marvelous green eyes of his, then feigned exasperation. “Not everything I say is about sex, Gracie.”
“Just most of it.”
“Now someone’s got a dirty mind. Look at you.”
I did, as much as I could. I didn’t yet want to see the truth in the mirror that Chris had already alluded to. Just the thought of having two black eyes and who knew what else made my face feel like it was about two sizes larger than normal. All of it temporary, thank goodness, but still unsettling.
“You’ve got blood on your shirt.”
“I do? I just bought this.”
He nodded as I searched frantically. No dice, but I didn’t suppose he’d lie about something like that. Maybe around the collar, where I couldn’t see?
“I suppose I should change so I can try to salvage it,” I hedged, not wanting to admit that he was right. “And a shower might feel good, too.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“That’s not necessary. I promise I won’t pass out in the tub or anything. I’ll take my phone with me in case I need to call you for help.”
Will laughed. “You would call me? When we’re inside the same house? Why wouldn’t you just scream or something?”
“I don’t know. Would you rather I text? It’s less invasive. That way you could come when it was convenient for you.”
“It’s convenient for me now. What else would I be doing anyway?”
“Maybe you’d find something good on TV. Hell, I don’t know.”
He crossed the room in a few long strides, stopping when he stood directly in front of me. Once there, he grabbed my wrist and helped me up. Then he proceeded to lead me to my own bedroom. I assumed this meant that I’d lost the battle.
“Allow me to let you in on a little something,” he said softly as he shut the door behind us, locking it for good measure even though we were the only ones there. “Both Chris and I think that you should have gone to the hospital. But you’re too stubborn and Chris is too much of a pushover.”
“What does that make you?”
He ignored me. “So to put my mind at ease, I need to see for myself that you’re okay. The last thing I need is for you to be hiding something like a broken rib from me. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t, because I know you. So, strip.”
“Will.”
“It’s either me or Chris. Who would you rather have do this? He’s too much of a gentleman to ask you to, but I sure as hell will. And remember, I’ve seen it all before.”
“Don’t I know it,” I muttered.
I started with my shoes, slipping out of them and landing my bare feet on the carpet. Then I unzipped my pants, letting them drop to the floor. Like a true gentleman, he averted his eyes. With shaking hands, my fingers worked the buttons of my blouse until the fabric fell from my shoulders and fluttered down on top of my slacks.
Irony of ironies, this morning I had put on what I knew was his favorite set of underwear. When he said he’d seen it all before, he hadn’t only meant my body. He’d also meant the contents of my lingerie drawer. And because he enjoyed the deep purple satin bra and thong more than anything else I owned, I found myself pulling them out even more often in his absence. I was only slightly masochistic.
“Go for it,” I prompted, holding my arms away from my sides like I was about to get frisked.
Will swallowed visibly as he drew near. Good. I was glad that he felt a little remorse, or whatever he felt that was written all over his face. He scanned me with his eyes first, running them down the length of my arms and legs and bypassing what was in between.
“Not a scratch anywhere,” I offered, not certain it was the truth. There were, after all, places that I couldn’t see.
He nodded, then cleared his throat as his fingers tentatively slid over my skin.
“Does anything hurt?” he asked.
My heart, because you broke it.
“Nothing south of my head,” I lied.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I’m sure the soreness will set in soon. But I’m pretty amped up on adrenaline still.”
“I guess that makes sense. And you’re right; a hot shower might help relax your muscles. But be careful when you wash your face. It might hurt a lot.”
“I know. I’m pretty hideous right now.”
“That’s not true.”
“Unless black eyes are all the rage and someone forgot to tell me, yes, I am.”
“You’re still as beautiful as ever, Gracie.”
I snorted, discounting his sincerity.
Until he cupped my face in his hands as if it was the most precious thing on the planet.
“Look at me,” he whispered when my eyes slid off to the side, unable to deal with him staring into my soul like he was prone to doing. If I let him, surely he’d see himself in there and he’d know that I was a big fake. But something about his tone made me snap back to attention.
Probably because I knew what was coming next and I didn’t want to miss it.
Ever so delicately, his lips met mine and I forgot all about the bruising and the headache and the killer bloody nose I’d just had an hour or so ago. He didn’t care, so it was difficult to see why I should.
Then we weren’t kissing so timidly. I tasted him hungrily, the feel of him warm and familiar and every bit as wonderful as I remembered. His mouth met mine with just as much urgency, as if he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him. His hands traveled down my flesh in earnest, caressing and worshipping all at once.
He was right; I’d never felt more beautiful in my life.
My hands tugged his shirt from the waist of his uniform pants and I plunged my fingers underneath, running them up his chest, relishing the way the breath caught in his lungs, the pounding of his heart.
“I need you, Will.”
Never had truer words been spoken. I needed him physically, emotionally, with everything that I had. It felt good to admit it out loud, even whispered like the sentiment was. It felt even better when he hardened against me.
So the pain was amplified when his fingers circled my wrists and effectively ended my exploration.
“Gracie,” he whispered back, “we can’t do this.”
My cheeks, depending on what they looked like right now, likely shouted my disappointment. In any case, my face burned from the inside out. Humiliation throug
h and through, no mistake about it.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized, “I thought that you wanted something else.”
Like I wanted to melt into the floor and become one with the carpet fibers?
“I do,” he said, surprising me with his candidness.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I didn’t exactly come prepared. It’s not like I carry them in the car with me.”
Oh. This was about condoms? And not about rejecting me? I could deal with that.
“Nightstand. Right hand side. Top drawer.”
His brows furrowed for a split second. “You’re telling me you have your own?”
“What can I say? I’m a modern woman.”
Will released me and made his way to the side of my bed. He pulled open the specified drawer and as promised, unearthed a box of condoms. The smugness on his face was evident when he looked inside and saw none were missing.
“Are you sure these aren’t expired?” For emphasis, he brushed nonexistent dust off the top.
“Fuck you.”
“That,” he said, returning to my side, “is exactly what I intend to do.”
We fell into the easy rhythm we’d established what seemed like ages ago. No missed cues, no awkward movements; we’d mastered the art of foreplay. When we were to the point of no return, his pants and boxers on my floor, I reached down to peel off my thong.
“No,” he breathed, “leave it on. The bra, too.”
I nodded, pushing the fabric of my underwear aside to allow him entrance.
Then my phone rang.
“Don’t answer it,” he growled, his face buried in my neck, trailing kisses down its contour.
A quick glance at the display confirmed that wasn’t the best course of action.
“I have to. It’s Lauren. If I don’t, she’ll be over here in fifteen minutes flat.”
He prepared to pull out, but I shook my head violently. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded. “We don’t want to waste one.”
My fingers grabbed for the phone, and I positioned myself so I was on top of him and in total control. He laid on his back, staring up at me.
“Hello?” I answered, only slightly breathless and annoyed.
“Oh my God, Gracie,” my bestie greeted, “are you okay?”
Her voice was strained and frantic like I knew it would be. The fact that she’d just uttered the combination of the three words in the English language that she hated most only further supported my theory.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
I put my index finger up to my lips, as if to remind Will he needed to be a good boy and be quiet. Then I put it in my mouth, making certain he watched as my tongue ran down its length. When it was nice and wet, I traced it across his bare chest.
His eyes rolled back in his head before closing completely.
“Were you going to call me?” Lauren continued.
“Eventually.”
“I had to find out that you totaled your car from Blake.”
“For the record, I didn’t call her, either. Chris did.”
Now that she was convinced I wasn’t bleeding out in a ditch somewhere, barely clinging to life, I prepared myself for the riot act. I was not disappointed.
“You know,” she started in, “you could have the decency to notify the ones who care about you that you’re fine.”
“Holy hell, Lauren. I’ve been home for about fifteen minutes. Did you think that maybe I was starving because I missed lunch? Or that I wanted to get out of my bloody assed clothes and take a shower before I gave everyone the good news? Chris said he had everything under control and he did. He told Blake. Blake told you. End of story. Forgive me for not calling you on my way home and freaking you out.”
She paused for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just worry about you, especially when things like that happen.”
“I know and I love you for it. But really, I’m fine. Nothing a few aspirin and an entire tube of concealer can’t fix. And I needed a better car anyway.”
“Blake said Chris told her you were pretty banged up. He thought you should have gone to the hospital.”
“Nah. I’m good. I promise.”
“I’m coming over after work to see for myself.”
“No!” I protested sharply. Will actually jumped.
“You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Well, here’s the thing. I’m not alone. Will’s here.”
“Will?”
Why did people tend to come up for air at the thought of Will doing anything halfway normal? Had we traveled to an alternate dimension where the poor guy wasn’t allowed to have a life? Could he not operate independently from Chris? First Doug, now his daughter.
“Yes, Will. He brought me home. Practically slit his wrists and gave a blood oath to Chris that he’d stay with me and make sure I’m okay. It was the only way that Chris would let me leave.”
“For once, I agree with the guy. But seriously, Will? How the hell did that happen?”
I rolled my eyes, even though I knew there was no way she possibly could have seen it. It didn’t mean that she didn’t deserve it.
“I’m not exactly sure. He was going home after his shift and he happened by the accident. Said he had nothing better to do anyway. The rest is history.”
And what wonderful history it was shaping up to be. If someone would have told me at the beginning of the day that I’d be down a car but have the chance to have one last encounter with the only man I’d ever loved, I would have called them crazy. But here I was, filled completely by him, his eyes staring into mine, not so discreetly urging me to get the hell off the phone.
“I swear that guy’s everywhere.” Lauren said, alluding to her own run-in with everyone’s favorite cop.
Will’s hands slid around my waist, positioning me where he wanted, pulling me even closer and in turn him even deeper.
“Yes,” I agreed, “he’s everywhere.”
It was all I could do to keep the big, stupid grin off my face and out of my voice. Especially when his hand slid inside the underwire at the bottom of my bra. Everywhere, indeed.
“Isn’t that awkward? I mean, you barely know the guy and he’s going to be your babysitter for the evening. I’d figure you’d be begging me to rescue you.”
“He’s really not bad company, you know.”
I raised my eyebrow in a wicked tease. This was met with a quick thrust from beneath that about made me cry out in pleasure. He was attempting to break my composure, but I bit my tongue and recovered without a peep.
“So what are you two doing?”
“Right now, we’re having wild, passionate sex in my bedroom.”
Will stilled beneath me. I flexed my muscles to keep him where he was, to stop him from pulling out and heading for the hills. I also toggled my cell over to speakerphone so he could hear the hysterical laughter my confession evoked. I’d told her the absolute truth, and she wasn’t buying it.
Perhaps it wasn’t the best tactic - it certainly wasn’t a confidence boost by any means that the thought of us screwing each other was absurd - but, really, I couldn’t think of a better way to prove to him that she discounted my statement.
“No, really,” she gasped for air on the other end of the line, “what are you honestly doing together?”
“Watching some dumb assed movie on cable. I couldn’t even tell you what it’s called.”
“Can I talk to him?”
Still on speaker, Will was privy to both sides of the conversation now. He shook his head no even as I pressed the phone into his hand.
With an exaggerated sigh, he greeted her. “Hey, Lauren.”
Since he’d switched my cell back to normal mode as he snatched it away from me, I couldn’t hear what was being said on her side. And with Will giving short, one or two word responses, I wasn’t able to pick up much in the way of context clues, either. From what I gathered, he was assuring her that he would keep his word and there was absolutely no need for her to worry ab
out me. I only knew that he was way better at getting her off the phone than I was.
“Should I kill you now or later?” he asked as he tossed my phone on the nightstand.
“Neither. I’ve already had a brush with death earlier today.”
“Don’t remind me. But seriously, what were you thinking?”
“None of the lies that I could manufacture would throw her off our trail more than the truth. She thought it was outrageously funny.”
“I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry.” My apology was quick, sincere.
Fear clawed at my insides. Had I gone and done it this time? The two of us were operating on borrowed time as it was. Had my insistence on outing our quasi-relationship - even if it hadn’t been taken at face value - snapped whatever thread we had still connecting us?
Something flashed across his face, clouding his eyes and obscuring the answers I really wanted. Then desire flooded through his veins, overriding everything else and for a brief, wonderful moment, I could pretend that we were exactly what I wanted us to be.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Two spent condoms later, I decided it was time to take a shower. Will left me alone for this, which both disappointed me and allowed me the chance to breathe all at the same juncture. Whatever it was that flowed between us was electric in nature, but I always felt like I was on a tightrope, balancing precariously between my expectations and reality. It was tiring to stay upright, and I had a huge fear of falling.
I took care not to focus on my reflection in the mirror as I dried myself off. I could feel the swelling on my face when I bathed, feel the tenderness as if it was its own entity. I wondered how Will did it. How he could look at me like nothing had happened today, like I was perfectly intact.
My work clothes were missing from the bedroom when I came back out. It had been my intention to throw them in the laundry to attempt to salvage them. I wasn’t sure if the bloodstains would come out or not, but it was worth a try. A quick check of my hamper confirmed that Will hadn’t become anal-retentive in our time apart and plucked them off the floor when I wasn’t looking.
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