The Last Single Garrett

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The Last Single Garrett Page 15

by Brenda Harlen


  “This time isn’t going to be fast,” he told her. “This time, I’m going to take my time exploring every inch of your delectable body.”

  And he did. He traced every dip and curve with his hands and his lips, pausing only to turn her onto her stomach so he could continue his exploration on her backside.

  “You have a tattoo on your butt.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Do you have a problem with tattoos?”

  “No,” he assured her. “I guess I’m just...surprised.” He traced the outline of the tat with his thumb. “Is it Celtic?”

  She nodded. “It’s a quaternary knot. Some people believe the four sides represent the four seasons, others claim that they’re representative of the four cardinal directions.”

  “Why did you choose to get a quaternary knot tattooed on your butt?” he asked.

  “I like the symbolism of it. The unending paths illustrate continuity and eternity, and the weaving together of the different strands suggests unity.”

  “I like it, too,” he said, then slid down her body and kissed the inked flesh.

  “Now I can tell everyone that Josh Slater kissed my butt,” she teased.

  His lips curved as he tore open another condom. “You’ve told me to often enough—although I think you used a word other than butt.”

  “That’s because you’re often a pain in my...butt.”

  “Yeah, we do have a tendency to rub one another the wrong way,” he acknowledged, as he covered himself to protect both of them.

  “I like the way you’re rubbing against me now,” she told him.

  “Let’s see what else you like,” he said, and slid into her.

  Her eyes closed on a sigh. “That,” she said. “I really like that.”

  “And this?” he asked, and began to move.

  “Oh, yeah,” she agreed.

  * * *

  Later, Josh fell asleep with Tristyn in his arms. But they came together again and again in the night, unable to get enough of one another. When he woke up in the morning, he automatically reached for her and was disappointed to discover that he was alone.

  He glanced at the clock just as she walked through the door carrying two mugs.

  “I know you can’t function in the morning without your caffeine,” she said, offering coffee to him.

  He took the mug and set it on the table beside the bed, then reached for hers and put it down, too.

  She frowned. “What are you doing?”

  “Apparently, I need to show you that my function is just fine in the morning.”

  She laughed softly. “I wasn’t disparaging your manhood,” she assured him. “I just thought you’d want coffee.”

  What he wanted, what he couldn’t seem to get enough of, was Tristyn. But he wasn’t going to think about that now. Because if he thought about it, he’d worry about it, and he didn’t want to waste any of the time they had together worrying.

  As he’d told her the night before, he didn’t like to overthink things. Keep it simple, he reminded himself.

  “There are some things that are even better than coffee in the morning,” he said, tugging her down onto the mattress and rolling on top of her to prove it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A long time later, while Josh was in the shower, Tristyn reheated the coffee that had gone cold while they’d lingered in bed. She had no complaints. In fact, she thought she might be able to give up coffee completely if she could wake up with him in her bed every morning—but that was dangerous thinking.

  Because as spectacular as it had been to make love with Josh, she knew she couldn’t let it happen again. She’d wanted to satisfy her curiosity; he’d done that and more. Expecting, or even allowing, one night to become two would be a mistake.

  “We need to get to the track,” she said, when he was showered and dressed.

  “Yeah, we do,” he agreed, though he slid his arms around her and drew her close.

  “And Ren has the pole today,” she said, though it was unlikely he needed a reminder.

  “I have a pole, too,” he said, rubbing against her.

  A laugh bubbled up inside her even as her body began to respond to his. “Unfortunately, we don’t have time to deal with your...pole—again,” she said.

  “Maybe later?” he asked hopefully.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  Josh frowned at her response, no doubt unaccustomed to a woman saying no to him—especially a woman who had already said yes. But it was important to Tristyn to put their relationship back on the friendship track. It was the only way she could be sure she wouldn’t fall for him again.

  “So this was a one-night stand?” he asked.

  “Well, technically one night and one morning,” she said lightly.

  “What if one night and one morning wasn’t enough?”

  She couldn’t let his question sway her. Even if he wanted more nights and more mornings now, he would eventually decide that there had been enough, and she’d be the one left nursing a broken heart.

  “Last night was incredible,” she admitted. “But pretending it was anything more than a night of really great sex would be a mistake.”

  He didn’t dispute her characterization, but he did ask, “Why is one night of really great sex okay, but two nights—or two weeks or two months—would be a mistake?”

  “Because our lives are too closely entwined,” she pointed out. “You’re not just my boss and my cousin’s best friend, you’re practically an honorary member of my family.”

  “So this is it? We just go back to the way things were, as if last night never happened?”

  “I’m not likely to forget it—and I don’t want to,” she admitted. “But it can’t happen again.”

  “I said that it was your choice, and I meant it,” he said. “But I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed.”

  “Better to be disappointed now than heartbroken later,” she said lightly.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he finally agreed.

  * * *

  Josh wasn’t happy with Tristyn’s unilateral decision to put on the brakes. He wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship, but he had hoped that they could continue to enjoy being together throughout the summer. Before they’d made love, being around her and not being able to touch her had almost been impossible. Now that he knew how she responded to his touch, not being able to touch her was going to be torturous.

  Pretending it was anything more than a night of really great sex would be a mistake.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe he was trying to make it into something more because he felt guilty about getting naked with his best friend’s cousin. But he’d had one-night stands before without obsessing about any of the women afterward. So why was he obsessing about Tristyn now?

  He’d walked away from her twelve years earlier, not because he wanted to but because he knew it was necessary. Somehow, even then, he’d known that if he touched her, if he tasted her, he’d never want to let her go.

  For so long, he’d wanted no one but her. But he’d ignored the truth and he’d turned his attention to other women, certain that they could satisfy the aching need inside him. He’d been wrong.

  He hadn’t expected making love with Tristyn to change anything—except maybe to alleviate the sexual tension they’d been living with. He didn’t expect to feel any differently about her or their situation. Now that he’d experienced the thrill of making love with Tristyn, he wondered if he could ever be satisfied with anyone else, anything less than her hungry kisses, eager touches and unbridled passion.

  And he wanted more than one night, dammit. He wanted more conversations under the stars, more lazy mornings, even more games of mini-putt and arguments over laundry duty. He especi
ally wanted more opportunities to make love with her all through the night until the sun began to rise.

  Wanting those things should have created a full-scale panic. He wasn’t supposed to want those things. He’d never wanted them before.

  But the wanting didn’t scare him. What scared him was the realization that if he let her go, he might forever lose his chance to have everything he’d ever wanted. And Tristyn was that everything.

  * * *

  Tristyn had worried that there would be tension between her and Josh when they went back to the RV, but the presence of his nieces—and their incessant chatter—ensured otherwise, allowing them to fall back into the routines they’d already established.

  After the first day, she was relieved to note that Josh didn’t seem inclined to challenge her “one night” directive. But sometimes when she was in the kitchen, he’d come in to get a drink or a snack and make a point of squeezing past her in the narrow space, ensuring that his body brushed against hers. If she asked him to pass her something at the dinner table, he’d let his fingers graze hers in the transfer, and linger longer than was necessary.

  It all had the appearance of innocence, but she knew better. There wasn’t an innocent bone in Josh’s body and he was deliberately attempting to stir up her hormones. What he didn’t know, what she wouldn’t admit, was that his actions were unnecessary. Because she hadn’t stopped wanting him, and being in close proximity to him day after day—even without his deliberately provocative touches—was quietly but steadily driving her insane.

  Every once in a while, she’d catch him looking at her with undisguised hunger in his eyes. It was admittedly thrilling—and arousing—to know that he still desired her. Though none of her reasons for not wanting to get involved with him had changed, ultimately none of them proved strong enough to counter her own desire.

  After Indianapolis they headed to Pocono, breaking up the six hundred plus mile journey into two parts. When they got to their scheduled stop after the first part, it was right in the middle of a torrential downpour. By the time Josh finished the hookups—having rejected Tristyn’s suggestion that he wait to see if the storm would pass—he was soaked and the girls were cranky from being cooped up in the truck for six hours.

  Searching online, Tristyn found a family fun center not too far away. After Josh had dried off and changed, they headed out so the kids could climb and jump at the indoor jungle gym. Then Tristyn slipped away while Josh and his nieces were bumper bowling to do a little personal shopping. When she returned, everyone was “starving,” so they went next door for pizza.

  The rain had stopped by the time they got back to the RV, and soon after that the girls were snuggled into their respective bunks and fast asleep. Josh took some time then to catch up on emails and phone messages while Tristyn debated with herself the wisdom of changing the rules in the middle of a game.

  Josh was on the phone with Daniel when Tristyn came out of her bedroom. And she wasn’t wearing the familiar pink-striped pajamas he liked to tease her about. He felt his body stir as his gaze skimmed over her—from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, lingering on the fantasy of silk and lace that barely covered up all his favorite parts in between.

  He heard a voice in his ear, but he was no longer following the conversation. As if of its own volition, his thumb tapped the screen, disconnecting the call.

  Tristyn arched a brow, her green eyes dancing with amusement. “Did you just hang up on your business partner and best friend?”

  “I think I did.”

  “And how are you going to explain that to him?” she asked.

  Josh couldn’t tear his eyes away from the feminine curves showcased in fantasy lingerie. “Bad cell phone coverage in this area.” He cleared his throat. “Um...what happened to your granny jammies?”

  “They’re in the laundry.”

  He swallowed. “Oh.”

  Her lips curved then. “You’re not going to comment on what I’m wearing instead?”

  “No,” he said, then changed his mind. “Except that maybe you should put on a robe. You look...cold.”

  “I’m not cold,” she assured him, stepping forward to stand directly in front of him.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “I saw this when I was shopping today, and I thought it fit your description of peekaboo lace.”

  The delicate lace panels did provide tantalizing glimpses of her skin. And the silky fabric seemed to caress her shapely curves. “You were thinking of me when you bought this?”

  “Actually...I was thinking about how much I’d like you to take it off me.”

  He swallowed again. “What about your one-night rule?”

  She lifted the hem of her silky slip, exposing several inches of shapely thigh, then bracketed his hips with her knees. As she settled onto his lap, all of the blood from his brain did, too.

  “I’ve decided that it requires a minor amendment,” she told him.

  “An amendment?” he echoed, because he didn’t seem capable of finding words of his own.

  “Mmm hmm.” She tugged his T-shirt out of his shorts and slid her palms beneath it.

  He cleared his throat. “What kind of, uh, amendment?”

  “That so long as we’re together this summer, we should have as much sex as often as possible.”

  “That’s a...major...amendment,” he noted, struggling to maintain his train of thought as she raked her nails lightly down his chest.

  “I was concerned that having sex again would complicate our relationship,” she admitted, leaning forward to press her lips to his jaw. “But not having sex these last four nights hasn’t done anything to simplify our relationship, has it?”

  “That’s true,” he agreed, in a strangled tone.

  “And if we both want the same thing—” she nipped lightly at his chin “—why are we denying ourselves?”

  “I have no idea.”

  She looked at him now, and he saw that there was a hint of uncertainty in her desire-clouded eyes. “Do we both want the same thing?”

  He wondered how she could possibly question the effect she had on him, and he silently vowed to eliminate the last of her doubts here and now. “If the same thing is me buried deep inside you, then I’d say yes.”

  Her lips curved. “Do you want to discuss this some more or do you want to take me to bed?”

  “I want to take you—right here, right now,” he told her, his gaze hot and hungry. “But considering that there are three little girls sleeping less than thirty feet away, your bed is probably a better idea.”

  “Probably,” she agreed.

  He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her with him as he stood. She hooked her legs behind his back so that their bodies were aligned from chest to hip and all the erogenous points in between. He carried her like that to the bedroom, pausing only to ensure the door was closed and locked before he tumbled on top of the mattress with her.

  * * *

  The first night they’d spent together had been an introduction to the exquisite joy of sex with Josh Slater. This time, Tristyn thought she knew what to expect. She was wrong.

  Every time she believed that he’d taken her to the limit, he showed her that there was more. It was as if he knew her body better than she did. He certainly knew where to touch, when to linger, to enhance her sensual pleasure.

  “I didn’t expect it to be as good this time,” she admitted.

  Josh lifted a brow as he leisurely stroked a hand down her back.

  “I figured part of the rush was the realization of long-term anticipation, and that once that mystery was gone, the intensity would fade.”

  “You were wrong.”

  She nodded. “You could become an addiction.”

  “You already are,” he said, drawing her close.
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  He kissed her again, and Tristyn realized it had never been like this with anyone else. Probably because she’d never before had a lover of Josh’s caliber and experience, and she wasn’t going to delude herself into thinking that a shocking number of orgasms was indicative of anything other than that.

  “Hey,” he said, drawing her attention back to him. “Where’d you go?”

  “Sorry, I guess my thoughts wandered.”

  “Wherever they wandered, they put a line between your brows,” he observed, touching a finger to the crease. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “Not really.”

  He waited patiently.

  She sighed. “I was just thinking about how you acquired your intimate and extensive knowledge of the female body,” she admitted.

  “I haven’t lived like a monk,” he acknowledged. “But the stories you heard me tell may have been exaggerated a little—for your benefit.”

  “For my benefit? Why?”

  “Because I wanted to give you a reason to stay far away from me,” he confessed. “But I haven’t been with as many women as you think.”

  “The number doesn’t matter,” she decided. “As long as the number of women you’re involved with right now is one.”

  “You are the only one,” he assured her. “The only one I’m with—the only one I want.”

  “For now but not forever,” she reminded him.

  “You do like your rules,” he mused.

  “And another of those rules is no overnight guests.”

  “You’re trying to kick me out of your bed, aren’t you?”

  “It wouldn’t look right if one of the girls woke up and found you were in my bed instead of your own,” she told him.

  “Alright,” he finally relented, unable to dispute her point. “Do I at least get a good-night kiss?”

  “I think you’ve already had more than a few good-night kisses,” she said, nudging him toward the edge of the mattress.

 

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