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Best Friend's Little Sister

Page 66

by Riley Rollins


  By two o'clock, the clay had started to come alive. I wet my fingertips again and let them slide over the slick, velvety surface.

  I hadn't begun with a specific idea in mind. I rarely did. I just started to knead the clay, sensitive to whether it felt warm or cold, stiff or soft. I reached somewhere deep inside… No...no, that's not right. Rather, I let something deep inside venture out. Giving it permission to show itself, to find expression without judgement… That's what my creative experience was like. And it was soothing, exciting and exhilarating all at once.

  Kind of the way Jack makes me feel, I thought, pushing and pulling the clay with my thumbs. Like how it feels to be just on the verge of something you can't even fully envision…

  I looked at the clock that hung over my work table and stretched my neck. I'd been so focused for so long, I hadn't realized just how stiff I'd gotten. And the lake looked so blue, so inviting. The day had been unusually warm. Warm enough that the water should be comfortable. I had enough time before Jack got home to find out for myself. I covered my work with a damp cloth, tucking a thick layer of plastic over the top.

  No, I didn't know just yet what was going to emerge. But I'd gotten a fine start today. The piece was still unformed, but it already had a sense about it. Rounded, yet delicate. Smooth with curving, elegant lines. I washed up in the huge sink that stood in the corner and enjoyed the sense of accomplishment and excitement I always felt with the gestation of a new piece.

  I locked the door behind me and headed for the water. Though there were other houses on the lake, Jack's seemed to inhabit a world all its own. It sat in the deepest part of a curving sweep of sandy beach. The view was amazing, yet it felt completely private at the same time. I dug my toes into the sand and untied the thin shoulder straps that held my dress. I was naked underneath, so the sensation of cool air on all that skin had me exhaling with pleasure. I stretched my arms above my head and basked in the afternoon sunlight. I waded out to test the water. It was deliciously warm, lapping up at my knees. I moved out farther, letting the water rise between my legs… to lick underneath my breasts…

  I rolled onto my back and spread out, floating on the surface, letting the water carry my weight. It lapped at my ears, making the sounds around me seem both louder and softer all at once. This was probably the most perfect day in my entire life.

  I thought about Jack, and how it would feel to be carrying his child. The water washed over the mounds of my breasts and I imagined how it would feel over my round, fertile belly. By this time tomorrow I could actually be pregnant…

  "Libby, for fuck's sake… Libby!" The words were distorted and far off, but the urgency of them rang like a bell.

  Flailing, I came upright in the water. It was Jack's voice, still calling and with an edge of anger…

  "Just what the hell are you thinking?"

  I heard the words behind me right before I felt his huge arms wrap around and pull me to his chest. I sputtered and coughed, grabbing at his soaking wet suit jacket.

  "You nearly fucking scared me to death, Jack! What the hell are you doing?" I was pushing at his chest. "I went for a swim, is all." I coughed again. "You damn near drowned me, scaring me like that."

  His hair was plastered around his face, and he should have looked ridiculous, having jumped into the lake fully clothed to rescue me. But the fact was, he looked sexier than ever. His white shirt clung transparently to his chest and the muscles underneath were hard and beautifully formed. His arms were thick and sculpted under my hands. Water ran from his hair and dripped from the hard set of his jaw. He was pissed, but god, was he hot.

  "You went too far, Libby," he said with a bite that made me stop struggling. He pulled me against him, heading back for the beach with my wet, naked body in tow alongside his. "It's alright to swim here, but not out so far. And never. Ever. Alone."

  His words were punctuated with the effort of his strokes as he swam. The eroticism of being naked in the water with him was fast giving way to the knowledge that in another minute he was going to be pulling me out of the lake like wet fish. He was angry and he was right. I knew better than to swim alone. But he didn't have to treat me like a child. And I sure as hell hadn't needed rescuing. I figured righteous indignation could be a decent parry to complete humiliation…

  "If you'd just let go," I argued, "I can swim back perfectly well on my own." I pushed at his chest, but his arms stayed tight around me. "You didn't have to do this…"

  He kept me beside him, and when his feet hit bottom, he swept me into his arms and carried me out of the water. His suit was ruined, running streams into the sand at our feet. And my bare breasts were crushed against it. His eyes blazed into mine.

  "No, Libby," he said. "I did." His chest was heaving. "As long as you live under my roof, you're my fucking responsibility and so help me, if you take another chance like that…"

  "I floated out too far, Jack. But I'm a strong swimmer. I wasn't in danger."

  "It's not just about you anymore, Libby. What if my baby was already inside you? And something happened and you both needed help?" His voice was still sharp, but for the first time he seemed to realize I was completely naked in his arms. My breasts were crushed against his chest, separated from his skin only by soaked fabric. And my cold, traitorous nipples were hard and round as marbles. His right arm was under my knees, his big hand cupping my bare ass. His eyes moved down for a fleeting instant before he looked me in the eyes again. "I won't have you taking risks, sweetheart," he said and I felt that hot, fluttering sensation inside. "I won't lose you when it's taken all this time just to find you…"

  His gaze moved down again and I had to struggle for breath. He was looking at my body, really looking at me now. And there was no place to hide. In spite of all my bare, wet skin, I felt suddenly hot. I like how he looks at me, his eyes on my flesh…

  "I won't again swim without you…," I promised. We locked eyes and an electric current passed between us.

  "No," he said, with the barest hint of a smile. "No… you won't."

  11

  Jack

  "Oh, Jackson…," Mom cooed, her voice thick with southern honey, "Come over here and give your mama a kiss. And bring that lovely woman of yours over for a proper introduction." Then she called back over her shoulder. "India," she chided, "you didn't tell me what a pretty little thing she is!"

  I bent to kiss her pink cheek as she wrapped her arms around me. Libby's hand was damp in mine. "Mom, I'd like you to meet Libby Jones. Libby, this is my mother, Vivian." Dad came out of the house and I saw his eyes light up. "And my father, Fletcher."

  "Oh, honey, I can't tell you how happy we were when India told me Jackson was bringing his girlfriend home for dinner," Mom gushed. "Now you just call me Viv," she took Libby's hand and pulled her in for a kiss, leaving a pink lipstick stain on her cheek. "And come right on over here and meet the rest of the family."

  I watched from the outside of the circle as Libby smiled and shook hands all around. She nodded and laughed. My three brothers had each given her a friendly hug and India stood next to Mom, exchanging satisfied smiles. Dad brought her a glass of sweet tea and ushered us all toward the backyard. I could smell his famous smoked brisket before we'd even gotten out of the car.

  "Now this is real barbecue," he said, opening the grill and letting the mouthwatering aroma fully escape. "None of that bottled sauce…" He touched the meat with a fork and it began to fall away in shreds. "Spices, a good, long smoke, a little love and a touch of magic," he drawled. He cupped his hand under a forkful of tender meat and held it up for Libby to taste. He laughed out loud when she chewed and pretended to swoon. "Everybody get your plates, now. Miss Libby, will you have some potato salad?"

  The barbecue, my sister's suggestion, had been the perfect call. As usual. We gathered under the trellis that covered the flagstone patio, warmed by the outdoor fireplace. Ben and India sat, legs crossed, with their plates in their laps. Mom and Dad shared a loveseat as did Libby and
I. Reid and Blake sat on either side of Janet, Blake's longtime girlfriend. I'd told the story of meeting Libby, and how we'd been together every moment since. No one had blinked an eye when I said I'd moved her into the lake house with me. So far, everything had gone smoother than I'd dared hope.

  It was the kind of evening we'd had countless times through my childhood. Even a dozen or so times during my marriage to Elaine. But as I settled back next to Libby and watched as she chatted and laughed, my brothers trying to ply her with second helpings, I realized that in all those years I'd never been as relaxed and happy as I was now. My dad and brothers had taken to Libby instantly. How could they not? She was bright and vivacious and charming, seemingly at perfect ease in spite of the secrets we were keeping. And Mom had already warmed to her in a way she never had with my ex-wife. When Mom leaned toward Libby and wiped the lipstick smear away with her thumb, Libby just glowed. I put my arm around her possessively, pulling her closer and dropping a kiss on the soft curve of her neck. We had appearances to maintain, after all…

  "You're perfect," I said into her ear, nuzzling as I spoke. "I think everyone here has fallen for you tonight." I flashed to how she'd felt in my arms only hours ago. Naked and soft. I hadn't been able to shake the image. Or the feeling. Or the desire…

  "I… you…," she started under her breath. "Well, you're lucky, Jack." Her breath tickled my jaw. "You have a terrific family. It must have been incredible, growing up like this…" We watched the others as they ate, leaning toward each other… laughing easily. My brothers took turns keeping Libby's plate full. From the looks on Reid's face and Ben's, it was a good thing I'd found Libby first…

  The evening was wrapping up, just as the first raindrops started to fall. It was only a light mist in the beginning, giving us enough time to gather the plates and glasses and head for the house. But by the time we came back for the brisket and the salads, it had become a downpour. Dad and I saved the last of the food, but stood streaming onto the kitchen floor along with the rest of the crowd. Mom tossed us all towels, but only after draping one carefully around Libby's wet shoulders.

  "Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Mom said, wiping her own face with a kitchen towel. "I'm not letting any of you drive back out in this tonight. You can all have a hot shower and just sleep in your old rooms. Head home in the morning, when the storm's blown over?"

  "But we have the insemination scheduled in the morning," Libby said as I closed my bedroom door behind us. "We can't just sleep here… together…"

  "The procedure isn't until eleven," I answered. "There'd be plenty of time to get there…," I pulled the curtains aside and was blinded by a flash of lightening, followed a second later by a deafening crash of thunder. "We can't make it back to the cabin in this this, Libby. We don't have a choice." We stood on opposite sides of the twin bed. My hair was still dripping and Libby's dress was thinly plastered to her body. Our eyes met…

  "You should shower," I said, inclining my head toward the adjoining bathroom door. "Get warm and I'll find you a pair of my old pajamas…" I broke our gaze to rummage in the chest of drawers and found a single pair. I held out the blue flannel, trying to force the smile from my face.

  "Tops for you, bottoms for me…?"

  12

  Libby

  I let the water flow over me, praying it could wash away all the emotions warring inside me. The water was hot and it felt good. Too good. And the feeling of Jack's hands on my body had been wreaking havoc with me all evening. He was so close, even now. Just in the other room… his bedroom, that we were going to be sharing tonight…

  There was no way in hell I could give myself another damned climax, I thought irritably. Not when I had to go out there and climb into bed next to him. He would fucking sense it.

  So I lathered and rinsed quickly, drying off briskly with a luxuriously thick towel. Everything around me was lovely. Homey, yet elegant. The fixtures were gold, the marble polished, the ceilings in the grand old house tall and ornately carved. Every inch of it was like a dream come true. And at any other time, I'd have been soaking in every amazing detail. But as the Turkish towel rubbed my sensitive nipples hard, I'd have given damn near anything to be back in my old apartment with its dripping faucets and leaking ceiling. How the fuck was I going to get through the night, half naked with Jack, in a bed only large enough for one?

  I dried my hair, scrubbing at it hard with the towel. I caught a glance of my reflection in the cloudy mirror. My hair was a riot of curls around my face and both my cheeks and lips were flushed. I was, well, let's be nice and say Rubenesque. Other than the color of my eyes, I'd always considered myself pretty nondescript. But tonight… of all freaking nights why tonight?... the girl looking back at me looked downright hot. She looked exactly the way I felt. Like a girl who wanted it. Bad.

  I splashed cold water on my face and took a few deep breaths. I was here to do a job, and that was all. The family dinner, Jack's affection toward me… all of it had just been part of the job. One I was being very well paid to do.

  I opened the door and swept a hand toward the bathroom. "All yours," I said.

  It wasn't until I noticed the glint in Jack's eyes, that I regretted the words.

  The water ran steadily as I climbed into bed and waited. So there wasn't enough room. I'd had to share beds with my foster siblings when I'd been little. You just turned your backs on each other went to sleep. Quick. Simple. Easy.

  The door opened and Jack appeared, towel over his head, pajama bottoms hanging like a tease from his hips. He peaked at me from under the towel and smiled evenly. "Decent?" he asked.

  I pulled the covers up a little higher. "Perfectly," I answered. He tossed the towel on the floor and sat down next to me, on the edge of the bed.

  "I know it's awkward, Libby, and I'm sorry." He ran his fingers through his wet hair, leaving lines behind. "But I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you've done for me tonight… for my whole family, really."

  "For your family?"

  "To let them see what a lovely person you are. So they'll always remember that the mother of the first official Mason grandchild was kind and warm and loving…"

  "Only after the baby's born, you tell them the relationship between you and me just didn't work out…?"

  He smiled. "May I?" he asked, lifting the edge of the covers. "It's getting cold out here."

  "I'm sorry… I wasn't thinking…," I stumbled, holding back the covers and holding my breath as he climbed in beside me. He stretched out on his side, facing me, propping his head up with his hand. My flannel top kept sliding up, and I kept pulling it down. My eyes were level with the sprinkling of dark hairs across his expanse of muscled chest. I knew nothing was going to happen between us, no matter how wet my pussy was getting. He smelled like soap and man. Christ, this was going to be a long night.

  "Tomorrow, you're going to give me the greatest gift a woman can give a man," he said softly and my toes curled in response. He shifted his legs and his knees bumped mine. I flashed to a picture of us throwing tomorrow's procedure out the window, and giving in to the very natural needs of a man and a woman finding themselves in the sack…

  "I want you to feel safe with me, Libby," he went on. "We can both feel there's a mutual attraction between us… It's natural after all, what with the circumstances. But I want you to know I'd never take advantage. I respect you and I'm grateful to you. I'd never do anything to ruin the trust between us."

  All the moisture in my mouth seemed to have pooled between my legs. Cotton-mouthed, I worked to swallow while my hormone-soaked brain worked to come up with a reply. Fuck respecting me, damn you, and just give it to me hard. Do something, say something to let me know it's what you want…

  "I respect you too," I muttered, feeling ridiculous. "Our contract clearly defines the boundaries of your expectations… and mine," I added. "We should get some sleep, shouldn't we? Tomorrow's a pretty big day for both of us."

  "I'm becoming a dad," he said, his e
yes shining in the darkness.

  "I'm becoming a... ," I broke off.

  "Pregnant," I finished, the word sounding oddly flat. "With any luck, I'll become pregnant on the first try."

  "I'm counting on it, and that's why I want to make a change to our original agreement," he said. He leaned back, working to see my face in the darkness. The moon was shining through the window on his, and his look was intense, determined.

  "I was going to wait until we were sure that the insemination had been successful and we were starting into the second trimester." He looked serious, his voice had an edge. "But seeing you with my family tonight… the way they responded, thinking you and I were…"

  "Real," I supplied.

  "A couple," he said gently. "They're accepting that we're living together because they believe that we love each other," he continued. "But they're old fashioned at heart. So are most of the stuffy old businessmen who help keep our company afloat." He reached out and touched my cheek. "I'd been planning to wait, but I know how much it would mean to Mom and Dad. Plus, there are appearances to maintain in their social circles.

  The ceremony can be here at the house," he went, on as my heartbeat began to race. "We can even spend most of your first trimester on our honeymoon, if you'd like. As long as it's technically legal and everyone believes the marriage is the real thing…," he searched my face in the dark, putting his hand on my hair. "The baby will have been born properly. And later, the marriage can end quietly. Even a second divorce in the family would be less of a shock than an illegitimate grandchild…"

  The only sound was my own blood racing in my ears. He took my hands in his and I felt that familiar electric current pass between us.

  "I would never expect more between us than the contract outlines," he went on. "I'd never try to take advantage, when you're already offering me more than I ever hoped for. A family of my own…

 

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