Melting Into You

by Laura Trentham

  “Alec.” The way she said his name with both understanding and admonishment made him look down at her.

  “What?” he asked even though the direction of her thoughts flashed like neon in the dark.

  “You should contact them. Settle things one way or another.”

  “Maybe.”

  Her thumbs massaged over the back of his hand. At least she hadn’t dropped him like a hot potato and told him to get the hell out of her bed and her life.

  “You’ve been so alone, haven’t you? Tearing yourself apart with regrets instead of living.” Her whisper curled through the shadows, hooking his heart. Still holding his hand, she leaned toward him and brushed a kiss across his cheek, innocent and sweet.

  This time when his hand twitched, he didn’t stop it from circling around her nape and pulling her closer. He didn’t deny himself the pleasure of her soft breasts pressed against his chest or her silky hair falling around his face.

  She’d soothed the sting of betrayal and shame to reveal the constant ache of loneliness. The twists and turns of his life seemed random, but maybe they weren’t. Maybe he didn’t deserve someone like her—hell, he knew that he didn’t—but walking away from her wasn’t an option, not anymore.

  He yanked the sheet down so there was nothing between them. He maneuvered her over his lap until she was straddling him, his hands clutching her hips. “I wonder what would have happened if our paths had crossed in college.”

  Chapter 12

  Her heart stuttered, from both his question and the growing erection pressing against her. She canted her hips and slid over him, still wet. “What does it matter? We didn’t.” She hoped he attributed the tremor in her voice to desire and not guilt.

  “Let’s pretend we were at a party, our eyes met across the room, and we both knew in that instant how the evening would end.”

  A cold wave prickled her scalp and ebbed lower, numbing her lips. Had she stepped into an alternate universe? One where he hadn’t rolled off her, gotten dressed, and walked out that night? “How would it end for you?”

  “Like this.” He leaned forward, but instead of her mouth, his lips landed on her right ear. He caught the lobe between his teeth and tugged. She angled closer, a soft moan escaping in spite of her best efforts. The heat of arousal dissipated the cold dread, turning her stiff body to molten lava.

  His soft and sexy whisper brushed the shell of her ear. “I would say something like … ‘You’re a beautiful girl with your mysterious eyes and beautiful hair. May I kiss you?’”

  Even though no college boy in existence would have ever said anything so romantic and suave, she nodded, afraid her frazzled nerves would reflect in her voice. His lips travelled across her cheek¸ leaving tingling kisses along their path.

  Finally, he took her mouth, sure and confident, nipping her bottom lip, running his tongue along the seam until she opened to him on a sigh. Their tongues tangled, and she squirmed on top of his erection. His fingers bit into the softness of her hips, and she tore her mouth from his, light-headed and gulping air.

  He loosened his hold and feathered his fingers up her torso, tickling the underside of each breast. Finally, he cupped and lifted them. He rubbed his stubbly cheek across the top curves, and she shuddered.

  “You have fucking amazing breasts”—he kissed each one—“but the sexiest thing about you is your smile and laugh.” His warm breath caressed over where his lips had been sending shivers through her. Her nipples tightened into painful buds.

  Were they still playing like they were back in college or were they in the present? It didn’t seem to matter with his deft quarterback hands wrecking her sense of reality. He seemed to know exactly how gentle or rough to handle her.

  She arched her back, sliding over his erection while pressing her breasts closer to him. Without thinking, she said, “Sweet Lord, all that practice with the ladies you got in college is certainly paying off.”

  His hands stilled, the warmth of his mouth gone. His head fell back with a chuckle. “I’m surprised I even remember what to do. I’ve been living like a damn monk.”

  “Are you telling me you never took any of the bleacher babes up on their come-hither looks?”

  “Only one bleacher babe held any interest for me.”

  Jealousy made her stomach cramp. “Which one?”

  “Are you serious?” A belly laugh rumbled out of him.

  “Do you mean me?” The question emerged as an incredulous squeak.

  He cupped her face, one thumb caressing her cheekbone while the other rubbed over her bottom lip. “You aren’t even remotely aware how damn sexy you are which only makes you sexier. Goddamn, your eyes can bring a man to his knees. The first time I saw your hair down … let’s say I had crazy-ass dreams for weeks, months.”

  His sleepy, drug-induced confessions scrolled through her head. “Can I take a guess at what you dreamed about?”

  “Be my guest.” His voice was smug as was his slight smirk.

  “Hands above your head.” Her tight throat and dry mouth lent a husky sexiness to her voice.

  His mouth narrowed, but he lifted his hands and linked his fingers on top of his head.

  She lay over him, her breasts against his chest and kissed him, deep and slow. One of his hands squeezed her ass. She spoke with her lips against his. “Uh-uh, Mr. Football. Don’t make me tie you up.”

  He inhaled sharply, stealing her breath, but obeyed, resuming his position. She could ease down a few inches and slide him inside of her, bringing them both pleasure. But, not yet.

  She broke away, kissing over his jaw, down his neck to his chest, making sure her hair fell onto him. His tattoo received extra attention because she loved it and because what awaited was frankly intimidating.

  Finally, she reached his bellybutton, her hair brushing over his erection. Grasping the base, she pulled back to consider her approach. She honestly hadn’t had a chance to practice with one so … prominent.

  She glanced up his body. He held still, his expression intense but controlled. Holding his hot gaze, she licked her lips then ran her tongue around the tip. He muttered a curse and arched his back, the illusion shattered. This time she didn’t stop him when he threaded his fingers in her hair. The pull and tug sent prickles of pleasure shuddering through her body to center between her legs.

  The arousal erased her trepidation. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide to cover him. He was too big to take comfortably, but she tried her best, wanting to fulfill his fantasy as best she could.

  His hands came under her arms, and he pulled her up his body like she weighed nothing. A package crinkled. An eternity passed while he rolled the condom on. Finally, she guided him inside, her focus turning from his pleasure to hers. She sat up and braced her hands on his chest, lowering herself until she could go no farther.

  Her head lolled back, and she didn’t move for several seconds. His hips bucked, and she took that as a sign of his impatience. She rolled her hips as she rode him, her need to orgasm overriding any sense of self-consciousness.

  He squeezed her breasts, his fingers playing with her nipples. She leaned into his touch, the pinch and pull driving her to the edge and over. Any pretense of control and rhythm disappeared. Vaguely, she was aware of his hands at her hips, holding her in place while he drove into her. He groaned and pressed them together, his hands leaving her hips to cover her breasts once more.

  A quiet fell around them, the pulse of her heart and beat of his under her hands the only movement. The tremble started in her knees, but travelled everywhere, stealing her strength. She collapsed against his chest, and he slipped out of her. She slid to the side and pulled the sheet over her. After disposing of the condom, he pulled her close.

  “Did that live up to your fantasies?” she asked.

  The hand caressing her back stilled. “Am I that easy to read?”

  She chuffed. “Actually, you’re impossible to read. The night when you were hurt, you told me about your d
reams.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.” He popped onto an elbow, and she shook her head, her smile as smug as his had been earlier. “You didn’t kick me in the nuts?”

  “No. Actually, I let you kiss me.”

  “I kissed you … and I don’t remember.”

  She smiled into his eyes. “Then, I took your shirt off and looked you over. I almost took your pants off too.”

  “This is patently unfair.”

  “I controlled myself. Barely. I wanted to see if I had exaggerated your rather impressive you-know-what.”

  “Rather impressive?” He tickled her, and she squirmed with giggles.

  “Very impressive. Intimidating even.”

  His deep laughter filtered through her. She loved this playful side of him, loved that she could make him laugh, but she wondered how things would change outside of the bedroom. Or if they even would.

  She caught his hand in hers to stop his tickling. Their fingers knitted together, and their joined hands settled on her hip. Exhaustion crept over her. The day had been a dizzying rollercoaster of emotions, the ending like flying off the rails and into the unknown.

  “You seemed upset the pregnancy test was negative.” His voice rumbled, and her slow, tired brain took a minute to make sense of the question. When it did, she tried to pull her hand out of his, but he held fast.

  Her emotions took another plunge. “I was confused.” Not a lie, but not the entire truth either.

  “You were close to tears.”

  “I was … confused.”

  “You’re being evasive.” He disentangled his hand from her and rolled to his back, putting space between them.

  After giving her a glimpse into the heart of him, he would never forgive her if she shut him out. She turned to her back as well and stared at the moonlight-dappled ceiling. “I was maybe, slightly … disappointed.”

  The bed shifted, and she closed her eyes, although his heat burned into her, and she knew he was looking down at her.

  “You wanted to be pregnant?”

  “Lord, no!” She cracked her eyes open, but his face was a blank slate in the shadows. “But after the initial panic wore off, I kind of got used to the idea and imagined a kid with your eyes and my artistic ability. I wasn’t trying to manipulate you.”

  He was silent, and nerves made her keep stuttering out words. “Trust me, I’m not looking to get pregnant now, but having you around was … nice. I got used to that too. I figured if I wasn’t pregnant, you’d stop wanting to hang out with me.”

  He wrapped her in his arms. “If you’re so lonely, maybe you should consider a boyfriend.”

  His heart was loud in her ear and faster than normal. “You got anyone in mind?”

  “I thought I already applied for the job. Twice.”

  “You’re overqualified, but application accepted.”

  “I hope I’ve proven I want to be with you whether you’re knocked up or not.”

  She kissed the curve of black over his pectoral and smiled. “I might need another demonstration of your good faith in the morning.”

  “Does this mean you want me to sleep over?”

  She didn’t answer with words, but squeezed him tight. No way was she letting him out of her bed. She fell asleep with her face squished against his chest, wondering at Fate’s sense of humor.

  Chapter 13

  Vague kitchen sounds and smells—water running, the clank of dishes, bacon—pulled Alec from his dreams. He would have preferred to have woken with Lilliana’s naked body against him, but his rumbling stomach deemed bacon a near second.

  Multiple voices echoed into the entry. He thanked heaven he’d gotten fully dressed. Miss Esmerelda sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee while Lilliana flipped sizzling bacon wearing tight jeans and a man-style T-shirt, probably in extra-large, knotted at her waist.

  “Hello, young man.” Miss Esmerelda’s lips were pursed, and she examined him from head to toe. He wasn’t sure if it was with curiosity or judgment, but he was highly aware of his bare feet and untucked shirt.

  “Miss Esmerelda.” He shot a save-me glance toward Lilliana, but all he got was an eye roll.

  “Pour some coffee and join me, Mr. Grayson.”

  Feeling like a schoolboy getting ready for a butt-chewing, he did as she asked and slid into the seat across from her. “Call me Alec, please.”

  “Since you and my favorite niece have gotten to know each other rather well, I believe I will.” Taking a sip, she stared over the rim of her coffee cup with eerily similar, mysterious dark eyes as Lilliana’s.

  Lilliana slid a plate piled with bacon, eggs, and two biscuits in front of him. She and her aunt had mini-versions. His throat was so dry, he worried the biscuit might choke him on the way down.

  “How’s Miss Jane feeling?” Lilliana asked, breaking the awkward silence.

  “Better. She’s back at work. Getting old isn’t for the faint of heart.”

  Alec’s appetite slowly returned as the two women kept up a steady stream of library gossip. Miss Esmerelda caught his eye. “I’m setting aside Mr. Grisham’s latest for you, Alec. You can come in later to check it out.”

  He felt the relief of passing a test. “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

  The old lady pushed up. “Duty calls. I expect to see both of you at church tomorrow.”

  Lilliana groaned. “I’m not parading Alec like a prize bull through the aisles of the First Baptist Church.”

  Miss Esmerelda’s harrumph made it clear no arguments to the contrary would be accepted. She patted the orangey halo of her hair and glided out the door, the snick echoing in the entry. Lilliana’s attention centered on pushing her eggs around the plate. Finally, she said, “You don’t have to come.”

  Even after the intimacies they’d shared last night, he wasn’t sure if she was genuinely giving him an out or if she really wanted him to come. “I don’t mind. I’ll come if it will keep your family happy.”

  She stopped tormenting her eggs to glance up at him with a smile. The tension across his shoulders dissipated. He’d chosen wisely. She cleared the plates, and another awkward silence descended. He typically spent his Saturdays catching up on work and had an appointment with one of his contractors at noon.

  “Should I expect Hunter today?”

  He ran a hand down his jaw. He’d managed to put Hunter out of his mind last night, but in the light of day worry niggled. “Last night after the game, his mother picked him up. He said he’d be here this morning, but I don’t know.”

  She chewed on a fingernail, her nose crinkled. “What about Will?”

  “Still around as far as I know. I have no idea what having his mother home will mean. My guess is Will’s too far gone for anyone to swoop in to save him.”

  “It’s sad to think of a seventeen-year-old as too far gone,” she said on a sigh. “And, no matter what, she’ll try.”

  “I worry Hunter’s going to get caught in the middle.” The eggs turned in his stomach, his appetite gone. “I’m going to be worthless until I check on him. You mind if I head out?”

  “Nope. I’ve got a date with Edwin anyway.”

  Alec grabbed the rest of his stuff and stopped by the kitchen. Lilliana loaded plates into the dishwasher. It had been a long time since Alec had anything resembling a normal relationship. Had he ever? Football had been a towering constant in his life, overshadowing everything.

  He tried to keep his voice casual, his gaze focused on the fruit-covered wallpaper behind her. “I’ll see you later.”

  She walked over, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Good luck with Hunter.”

  “I have a feeling I’ll need it.”

  She took a step closer and tilted her face. A sense of expectation tensed him, and he dropped a perfunctory kiss on her lips. Her smile was one of challenge.

  “That’s your best play, Mr. Football?” She grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands and yanked him down. She took his bottom lip between hers and suc
ked gently. A sensual haze descended. Too soon, she pulled back, smoothed his shirt out, and patted his chest. “Have a good day, Alec.”

  He’d stood like an ice statue during the entire kiss even though his blood superheated his skin. Lilliana was a force of nature, and he wasn’t sure if he could survive her. Without another word, he backed out of the kitchen and headed out the front door.

  Juggling her purse and a box of donuts, Jessica Wilde climbed out of her car. When she saw him, her eyes flared before a knowing smile lit her face. She tucked a piece of auburn hair behind her ear and cocked out a hip. “Methinks my mission of commiserating donuts isn’t needed anymore.”

  “Nope.” A cocky grin threatened to break out. He fought it, but his lips curled up anyway.

  She passed by him, turning to walk backward. “I’m glad you two worked things out. I know you haven’t exactly had the most traditional courtship between college and now. By the way, great game last night.”

  “Thanks.” His smile held but a vague worry shaded his happiness. Jessica bounded up the stairs as if she were wearing sneakers instead of four-inch heels and disappeared into Hancock House without knocking. He shook his head and focused on how to help Hunter.

  * * *

  Daylight banished the ominous undertones that had surrounded Hunter’s house at night. The street was full of birdsong and the whisper of the wind through the trees. The green pines and autumn-hued hardwoods beyond the Dead End sign were a welcoming oasis. No wonder Hunter took refuge there.

  Ms. Galloway’s car was parked in the grassy spot next to the house. No sign of Will’s jacked-up car. Alec climbed up the buckling steps to the sagging porch. The screen door was minus the screen, the rusty metal framing the green-flaked inner door. He rapped.