by Cari Quinn
“Why would you even suggest such a thing? You have a job, a home, a life. You’re happy.” When he laughed, long and low, she shifted to look at him, eyes narrowed. “If you’re not, you never let on.”
“I’m an excellent compartmentalist. As are you. Which is why we’ve been able to distract ourselves from reality all these years by spending our nights yelling at the Raiders and griping about each other’s lovers.”
“I never griped about your lovers.” She made a face. “Out loud.”
“Sometimes your thoughts are loud enough, Cooper.”
She angled her head. “And this reality we’re ignoring is what?”
“Your feelings for me aren’t shallow, and they aren’t only about friendship. If they were, you wouldn’t have run after me this morning like you thought you’d die if you didn’t catch me.”
“That’s a total exaggeration,” she muttered, turning her face away.
“No, it’s not.” He took hold of her chin so she had no choice but to look at him again. “They can’t make us do anything we don’t want to, Rach.”
“Your mother said we’d have to have a spring wedding. They need that much time to book the club.”
He couldn’t contain his laughter. After a moment, neither could she.
She looked up at him, her eyes as huge as sinkholes he would’ve happily drowned in, and his heart gave its typical leap. “I really like having sex with you. I mean, really.”
His lips twitched. “Feeling’s mutual.”
“I don’t think I can give it up either.” Closing her eyes, she laid her head against his shoulder. Her voice reeked of fatigue, the kind that let him know she’d have no need to count dancing sheep tonight. “That’s a problem.”
He leaned down to brush a kiss over her hair. “Not from where I’m sitting.”
She relaxed in his arms, her breathing slow and even. When he was sure she was asleep, he gathered her in his arms and carried her to bed.
Her cries woke him. His body tensed as he heard the unmistakable timbre of her voice, even if the sounds she made weren’t words. As soft, needful sighs rent the air, he jerked up in bed.
Rachel was whole and safe, lying beside him in the dark, the sheets he’d covered her with twisted around her waist. But she wasn’t okay, and her next cry proved it.
Her body arched, giving him a shadowy glimpse of creamy breasts and dark, tight nipples. She’d always suffered from nightmares, but he’d be willing to bet this dream didn’t involve things that went bump in the night.
Well, not exactly.
He rubbed the heel of his hand over his heart. What should he do? Wake her, probably. That was the kind, considerate, best-friendly thing to do.
Her lips fell open on a moan, and his cock hardened. Too late for that. Now he was her lover, and he needed to know what she was dreaming about. And who.
But even in sleep, she didn’t cough up answers easily. She writhed in the sheets, her wild movements inciting him until he had to push the sheets down to give his growing erection room. Her hair was spread wildly over the pillows, a wash of black against white, and every time her hips came off the mattress, her nails clawed the bed.
After a while, her thrashing stopped entirely. He relaxed into the pillows, his grip on his cock loosening. Obviously the show was over for the night.
But a few minutes later, her breathing changed again, becoming shallow gasps that frayed the last of his shredded control. Her hands came up to clutch her breasts, her fingers toying with her swollen nipples so desperately he wondered if she’d actually make herself come that way. When her hands skimmed down her damp torso, his own ragged groan burst free.
As he fought to tug the sheet down her hips, she moaned, “Shawn,” and the burn in his blood turned to an inferno.
He’d told her no sex, and he’d meant it. Mostly. Right now, she couldn’t even consent to anything. If he didn’t wake her, he’d be violating her trust. Even if she’d given in to wanting him when she was awake, this was a whole new ballgame.
“Shawn,” she said, his name an entreaty. Her hand crept across the sheets as if she were reaching for him.
If he had a line, she’d just crossed it.
Half-mad to have her, he spread her thighs, the scent of her arousal more than he could stand. He told himself he was just soothing the ache. Just easing her obvious distress. And he hoped to God she’d take it as that and not see the act as him pressing his advantage yet again.
At the first stroke of his tongue along her wet seam, she bowed up, her hands fisting in his hair. She held him against her as he sucked her throbbing clit between his teeth, drawing hard until her cries escalated to something between a growl and a scream. Her flavor filled his mouth, but it wasn’t enough. He had to have more. Again and again, he drove his fingers into her pussy as she panted his name.
She came violently, flooding his tongue as her heels beat uselessly against the bed. He gave her two more shuddering orgasms with his mouth and fingers before he finally drew his lips up her belly, only to find his sweaty night goddess had already sunk back into sleep. Wearing a smile.
He pressed his cheek between her breasts, his breathing still ragged. He was shaken, an addict no better after his fix. Worse, now he felt guilty. Maybe he should have let her sleep it off. If he’d done anything to fracture the fragile trust between them --
A while later, she made a muffled noise and cupped his cheek. He’d yet to lift his head from her chest. God, he was probably crushing her.
“I’m too heavy,” he said, starting to draw away. But she pulled him back again.
“Never. Stay.” Her mouth curved in a faint smile. “Right where you are.”
Closing his eyes, he settled against her. They’d discuss it tomorrow. Tonight he’d focus on the miracle of her heartbeat under his ear.
When her alarm buzzed at four thirty, Rachel silenced it with a single pound of her fist. The last tendrils of sleep wrapped around her, as warm and cozy as the strong arm draped possessively over her waist.
Shawn. With a contented sigh, her eyes fluttered closed.
Her body felt lax and loose, as if she’d been thoroughly satisfied. Which she had been, in a way, though dream sex didn’t really count. No matter how passionate.
Blurry images rolled through her mind, and her nipples stiffened insistently. The familiar ache between her legs caused her to press her thighs together, but it wasn’t enough to subdue the sensation. Suddenly she imagined Shawn’s tongue stroking her quaking flesh, and her eyes shot open.
Hello, not a dream.
She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. “Shawn?”
In lieu of an answer, he lazily cupped her breast, thumb flicking her nipple.
She bit her lip, wedging her thighs together even tighter. Her skin felt abraded. Raw almost. Surely she hadn’t rubbed her legs together that much? “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
“I was having a dream of my own.” He turned his mouth against her neck and gave her a slow, sleepy lick. “Is it time for you to go work out?”
“I think I already burned off some calories.”
His drowsy chuckle confirmed her suspicions as she turned in his embrace to study him in the early-morning light. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, but the softness of his features was evidence enough he was as content as she.
She sighed. If what she had were merely feelings, would she feel this happy? This cherished and safe? And did she even dare ask herself such a question?
She laid a hand on his jaw, trailing her fingertips over bristly stubble and warm, smooth skin. “I dreamed about you.” Not the first time either, though she didn’t voice the rest aloud.
No need to make him even more cocky than he already was.
Curving his arm more tightly around her, he opened his eyes. His warm green gaze shifted over her face. “I heard.”
“I’m…uh, sorry I woke you.”
Shawn’s soft laughter tickled her cheek. “You can wake me u
p like that anytime.”
What exactly had happened? Had she started having actual dream sex? What a shame, if so. She wanted to remember, dammit. “I ruined your days of foreplay,” she said, unsure if it was true.
“You didn’t.” He drew his fingertip over her mouth, his smile turning wicked. But even as he tempted her with his sinful grin, something shifted through his eyes. “Although, baby, I must say you taste every bit as good as you look.”
Chapter Thirteen
“From your expression,” he continued, “you don’t entirely remember, so maybe I should give you a play-by-play.”
“That’s okay.” Why did she feel so mortified? They were lovers. “Really.”
“No, we need to discuss this. I didn’t just let you go back to sleep.”
“Um, all right.” She bit her lip. Who knew what kind of freak “dream-sex Rachel” became? Maybe she was better off not knowing.
“Whatever you were dreaming must’ve been pretty amazing. I was sure you’d make yourself come just from your twisting and rocking alone, but when you started touching your breasts --”
Heat blasted her cheeks. “God.”
Shawn’s hand skimmed up her bare torso until his knuckles brushed her nipple. “Hot as hell. I couldn’t stand watching you anymore, and your scent was making me crazy, so I put my tongue inside you.” His voice dropped, turning quiet and husky. “You tasted so incredible, I wanted more and more. And you gave it to me.”
Which explained the chafed sensation on her inner thighs. Stubble-burn.
Rachel didn’t say anything, her heartbeat nearly drowning out his uneven breathing in her ear. “I screamed.”
“Oh yeah, you did. Waited for the knock on the door, but maybe it wasn’t as loud as it seemed in my head. Sexiest goddamn sound I ever heard.” He cleared his throat, then said, “I should have woken you up before I touched you.”
“You should have?” She craned her head to stare at him. “Why? I’m pretty sure I enjoyed every second.”
Her admission drained the stiffness out of his body. He smiled. “I didn’t want you thinking I took advantage of you.”
She snorted. “Right. Just so you know, if you ever dream about me, I’ll be doing the same. Well, the male equivalent.” Her grin matched his as she relaxed against him. “Silly man.”
He lifted her hair away from her neck and rubbed his lips just behind her ear, sucking on her skin hard enough to mark. When she heard his next words, she knew that had been his intention. “You sounded like you did that night at Riley Lake. This was the first time you completely let go.”
“Riley Lake?”
“After graduation. Us and Mor and our dates at the cabin.”
“I remember.” Like she’d ever forget. “Our pseudocamping trip, even though the place was tricked out with four bathrooms and giant spa tubs and a huge screen TV.” The last of her morning-after shyness morphed into curiosity. “You heard me? With Ryan?”
His body tensed though he continued nuzzling her neck. “I heard you.”
The first night they’d stayed there, raging teenage hormones had won out over exploring their vacation digs, and everyone had retreated to bed early. She and Ryan had been dating for over a year at that point so while sex far from parental interference had been nice, she’d been so tired from the long car ride that once had been enough.
Until, that is, she’d heard Shawn and Vivica -- she of the five-inch waist and bubblegum pink lips -- going at it in their adjacent bedroom.
“You came into my room afterward,” he murmured. “Just stood at the end of the bed for a minute, staring at me.”
She remembered that too. Even with her body still heated from Ryan’s, she’d had to stop and watch Shawn sleep on her way to his bathroom. Her heart had beat then as loud as it was beating now. “Our toilet wouldn’t flush.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I heard you too. It drove me crazy, thinking of you with your hands on her not fifteen feet away.”
He bristled at her admission, but she didn’t stop her rant. In for a penny…
“She had this way of screeching of every time she came, so I decided I’d drown her out. I think Ryan was a little surprised.” It shocked her she could laugh. “He got on board quick.”
“You sounded like you were in ecstasy.”
“I’m so glad you heard.” She had to grin as she turned her head. “Since you never said anything, I thought my little show had gone unnoticed.”
He fisted his hand in her hair. “You wanted to make me jealous.”
“No, I wanted you to know how I felt listening to you.”
“Why should you have cared?” His eyes flashed. “You didn’t want me, remember?”
“Uh, I think you’ve gotten the sequence wrong, Griffin. I wanted you, you didn’t want me.” As irrational as it was for that knowledge to still grate given the current circumstances, she slid out from under his arm and sat up in bed. “Have you forgotten that I all but threw myself at you and you said no?”
“I thought I had time.”
When she glanced his way, arousal tightened her nipples. She gritted her teeth. Apparently her traitorous body didn’t care she was annoyed.
“I wasn’t ready to tie myself down. I knew once we started a relationship, there’d be no walking away.”
A lump rose in her throat. She was beginning to think he’d been right. “So your need to spread your seed far and wide is supposed to make me feel better that I spent a decade pretending you weren’t a man.”
A man she’d wanted for so long, even if she’d been in such denial she’d been unable to admit the truth to herself.
He trailed his hand up her back as he sat up, but she didn’t look at him again. Not yet. “I fucked up. If you think I haven’t spent a hell of a lot of time dwelling on that, you’re wrong. Every time I imagined you in some other man’s bed, I paid, believe me.”
She risked a glance at him as he shoved his hands through his hair. “Maybe it was meant to be this way.”
“Oh yeah, it was meant for you to fall in love with Halston, so he could break your heart.”
She nearly replied, He didn’t break my heart, but she restrained herself. If she told him that much, she might as well say, “Come and get me,” because he’d know she was his.
That she’d always been his, ripe for the taking.
“And the miscarriage. That shouldn’t have happened. If only I’d --”
“Don’t be stupid. You had nothing to do with it.”
“What about this trip?” he demanded. “You think it was meant for you to sleep with him while you’re sleeping with me?”
She pressed her lips closed before the denial sprung from her mouth. So she’d been right. He thought she’d been diddling Ryan too. To tell him otherwise would open a whole other avenue of discussion about why she’d let him think the worst this long, even if he’d drawn his own conclusions without her help.
“You said you didn’t care,” she reminded him.
His jaw cracked as he laughed softly. “Yeah, I did.”
Pictures from the last ten years flipped through her mind. Christmas mornings she’d awakened to find he’d decorated the palm trees outside her apartment in colored lights, nights he’d bunked on her couch to watch whatever she wanted on the DVR, a pint of Chunky Monkey and two spoons between them.
Feelings? If she had any more damned feelings for him, she wouldn’t be able to breathe.
This thing between them had turned into a runaway train. She just hoped like hell it didn’t crush their friendship. But she feared it was already too late. No matter what happened, they wouldn’t be able to go back to the way things had been.
“Let’s get dressed,” she said abruptly, toeing aside the sheets as she rolled out of bed.
“Are you kicking me out again?” he asked, weariness thick in his voice.
“Dream on, sucker.” Rachel propped her hands on her hips. “You’re taking me to Shea Stadium. And if the Me
ts don’t win, you owe me big-time.”
His grin eased away the remaining ache in her belly. “You’re on.”
The Mets beat the Cubs, eight to three. But he ended up owing her anyway, because she made him cart a giant foam finger around New York, even onto the ferry to the Statue of Liberty.
“You really think Morgan’ll let you put this on the living room sofa?” Shawn asked, shifting his hold on her souvenir as he fought to get his soda to his lips.
“If she doesn’t, you can store it for me at your place.” Rachel flashed him a smile, lowering her sunglasses. “If they even let us take it on the plane.”
“Foam bends. I’ll get it in a suitcase, don’t worry.” He handed her his drink so he could test his theory. Damn stuff wasn’t as malleable as he’d expected. “Or I’ll buy you a new one in LA next time I’m there. Close enough.”
“You’d make a good boyfriend, you know that?” she said as her cell went off in her purse.
While she answered her call, he took a hard pull on his straw. Maybe if he could get her to turn off her damn phone for an hour or two, they’d actually get somewhere. Maybe. It was hard to tell, since every step forward they took seemed to result in two back.
“No, he talked to his mother last night. What?” She dragged her phone away from her ear. “You hung up on Elaina?”
He shrugged, her beady-eyed stare making him feel like a mischievous little boy. “We need a break from them. Since they won’t give it to us voluntarily, I hung up.”
“Your father needs to discuss some business with you. He said it’s urgent.”
Shawn folded his arms on the railing of the ship and stared across the gently rolling water. Rachel apparently didn’t understand it was better if he didn’t speak to them, because he honestly didn’t know if he could rein in his temper. “Tell him to e-mail me.”
He felt her hot gaze on the side of his face as she made short work of the rest of her call and deposited her phone back in her purse. “I won’t be the reason you’re fighting with them,” she said in a low voice.