Love Everlasting

by Tracey Alvarez

Maddie, who along with Duke and Spartacus she’d let out of the laundry room earlier, strolled into the bathroom. Purring and with tail lifted high, she launched herself at Darby, still bent over the vanity. Maddie was not half the tree or human climber she thought she was, because she missed the target of Darby’s shoulder and instead landed squarely on her back, ten scrabbling claws extended. Darby let out a squeal that could probably have been heard three doors down. The Siamese hunkered down and hung on for dear life, just out of reach of Darby’s flailing hands.

  “Are you okay?”

  The shower door whipped open and there stood Reid in all his gloriously wet nakedness. And bent over double, twitching her ass to try to get Maddie off her back, was she. Eye level with Reid’s most impressive attributes…

  Darby clapped a palm over her eyes, muttering, “Damn. Maddie, close your eyes.”

  Water continued to hiss, Maddie continued to purr, and Reid began to laugh.

  “She’s ignoring you,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure she’s the type of girl who likes to watch.”

  That made two of them, because Darby couldn’t resist peeking between the crack of her fingers. Reid hadn’t shut the shower door. In fact, he’d moved forward a few steps to lean one firmly rounded shoulder against the metal frame. Smooth dips and rises of tanned skin made up the breadth of his chest, and a detailed blue feather and a date were inked on the hard ridge of his right pec. His stomach was a masterpiece of contouring between two makes-girls-swoon hip muscles and lean, strong thighs.

  Add to that stunning male package—pun intended—the unmistakable stirrings of his interest, and Darby was suddenly out of breath.

  “She does,” she wheezed, while still pretending she wasn’t ogling Reid’s body like he was the star stripper at an all-male review.

  “While you’re down there,” he said, conjuring up all sorts of wicked connotations in her mind and sending a flush of heat between her legs. “You’re out of shampoo. Got any more in that cabinet?”

  “Yes! I’ll grab it!” She didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but given that her attempt at bathroom seduction was more akin to Psycho than The Notebook, she just wanted to escape with what remained of her dignity intact.

  She shuffled around until she was facing the vanity unit. Maddie finally got the hint and daintily leaped from her back to the sink, where she sat, tailed coiled around her paws. Staring in Reid’s direction.

  Darby yanked open the cabinet, reached in blindly, and grabbed a handful of little packets, then held them out like a hand of cards, face averted, for Reid to take his pick. Water sloshed and a couple of droplets landed on her hand as he slid the sachets from her fingers.

  “Mud mask, anti-dandruff conditioner,” he paused. “And a condom.”

  The low chuckle he gave sent a rash of goose bumps down her spine. If goose bumps were caused by lust rather than coldness.

  “Maybe I’ll hang onto that one.” He tossed the other two sachets back on the vanity. “Just in case you actually did want something in here other than mouthwash.”

  There were only a finite amount of opportunities in life to take what you truly wanted before that opportunity was gone. Darby didn’t intend on forgoing tall, blond, and handsome’s invite to be his shower buddy. Before she could chicken out, she straightened, looked Reid in the eye, and set a palm on his chest, giving him the tiniest of shoves backward. He obligingly stepped back into the stall. She followed him in, clothes and all, and shut the door behind them.

  Reid set the condom packet on the soap dish and pulled her into his arms. “You forgot the shampoo,” he said, grinning down at her.

  She took his face in both palms, rose on her toes, and flicked the tip of her tongue along the underside of his jaw. “Shut up. Your hair’s disgustingly perfect already.”

  His big hands spanned her waist, pressing her against him under the spray so that in seconds she was soaked to the skin. The dry tee shirt and loose cotton pants she’d changed into when they’d first come inside clung in wet folds to them both. He stroked a palm down her spine, resting it on the small of her back. He nudged her face to one side so he could rain kisses down her throat. His teeth scraped gently at the neckline of her tee shirt as he gripped it and pulled it away from her skin.

  “You also forgot to get naked.” He sealed his lips around the bump of her collarbone.

  “Yeah. I’m a bit of a ditz,” she said on a gasp.

  “It’s fixable.” He danced fingertips down her lower back to the hem of her tee shirt. “Nimble fingers, remember?”

  His knuckles skimmed her ribs when he dragged the shirt up and over her head. It plopped in a puddle behind her. Those nimble fingers of his were barely noticeable against her wet skin as they popped her bra fastener. He slid the straps down her arms, paused, and aimed a hot stare between them, stroking his thumbs over the upper swell of her breasts. His gaze locked with hers as she let the bra drop to the shower floor.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  She lifted her chin. “Only okay?” she said. “Personally I think my new boobies are remarkable—fan-bloody-tastic if I’m in a boasting mood.”

  His eyes crinkled in the corner. “I take it back. Your breasts are fan-bloody-tastic and I’m hoping to be even more blown away by your ass, which has driven me crazy for weeks.”

  He proceeded to strip her out of the rest of her clothes, remaining on his knees in the shower as he helped her out of her clingy pants and panties. He reached past her to drop them in the corner out of the way, but instead of pulling back, his lips skimmed over her lower ribs.

  She forgot the basics of breathing as Reid nuzzled the underside of her breast. Her stomach clenched as his mouth brushed over the thin white scars. He murmured something against her skin which sounded like “beautiful.” She wasn’t sure because her heartbeat punched a needy throb against her eardrums. Hot kisses covered her breasts then centered on the flushed tips of them. He gathered the fullness in his hands and once again looked up at her.

  “Okay?”

  She nodded, and when his mouth closed over her nipple to gently suckle, her breath hitched in her chest. He drew soft, teasing circles around her flesh, and though the sensation was not as powerful as pre-surgery, the knowledge that it was Reid touching her was enough to make her toes curl. The sensation might have been muted, but the pleasure wasn’t.

  Strong fingers slicked along her wet skin, slipping over her hip bones to tease the soft curls between her legs. The pad of his thumb delved between her folds, finding her swollen and needy already. She groaned, thrusting her hips forward. His thumb shifted and stroked toward her entrance.

  Her nipple slipped from his mouth with a soft pop as he bore her backward, bracing her hips against the wall. He met her gaze again with a question in his eyes but pleasure twisted around her so tightly she couldn’t speak, couldn’t communicate her need for him. Somehow he’d developed the ability to read her mind as that sexy-as-sin mouth of his curved into a smile moments before he buried it between her legs.

  Darby arched into him, whimpering as his tongue did all sorts of wonderful, amazing, nimble things. Her knees turned to jelly from his relentless attention to detail—and thank you, universe, for it—and she clung to the small safety rail the previous owner had installed as if it were a life preserver. It certainly saved her from falling on her ass when the mother of all orgasms blew up her ovaries a few minutes later.

  Reid kept his mouth against her pulsing flesh as she whimpered with the luxurious release that was long overdue. One big palm kept her pinned against the shower wall, then, proving he was an excellent multitasker, Reid tore open the condom packet with his teeth.

  “Can you stand by yourself, honey?” he asked.

  She looked down at the hard length of him jutting toward his stomach. She was unembarrassed to admit her mouth watered. “If it means you’ll bang me silly with what you’re holding, I can balance on one foot and juggle.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “O
h, I’m going to bang you silly all right.” He let go of her hip, sheathed himself, and rose to his feet.

  He took her mouth in a blisteringly hot kiss and directed her arms around his neck. Sandwiching her between wet, slippery muscle and the shower wall, he hooked her knee upward and entered her with one hard thrust. The anticipation she’d been building in her head of Reid being inside her paled into insignificance as she clenched around the sudden but perfect intrusion. Not just that he was bigger than she’d expected, or that the stretch of her body accepting every inch of him had set her firmly in the direction of another climax. But because this was so much more intense, so much more mind-altering, so much not a quick bang in the shower that she’d mark off on some sexual bucket list.

  Reid was just…more.

  Their gazes locked as he stilled, buried to the hilt inside her, their ragged breaths and the thrumming of heartbeats and steamy spray the only sounds.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Better than okay.” She struggled to keep her eyes from crossing from how much better than okay she felt. Squeezing her internal muscles around him, she narrowed her eyes. “But I’ll have to hurt you if you ask me again. I’m not made of glass.”

  He withdrew slightly, then came back into her hard enough to genuinely make her eyes cross. “Permission to bang you silly, then?”

  “Granted,” she said on a gasp as he did it again.

  And again.

  And again, until she muddled Reid’s name up with the big guy upstairs and they both came harder and louder than Cinderella’s clock striking midnight.

  Later—maybe actually after midnight because she’d lost track of time sometime after shower sex part two—Darby cracked the frosted glass door open and stumbled out on wobbly legs. She passed a bath towel to Reid and wrapped another around herself.

  “That’s not at all creepy,” Reid said as he emerged to stand beside her.

  “Huh?” It took bona-fide willpower to drag her eyes from Reid’s naked body—he’d chosen to use the towel to dry his hair rather than cover up all that bare skin—and follow the direction of his gaze.

  Parked in a row in the doorway sat two cats and a little dog. The cats were giving them the stink eye, while Duke’s tail swept the floor as if he thought the two humans were going to introduce a new game to play, one that preferably included bacon.

  “I feel like they’re rating my performance.” Reid dropped the towel and backed her up against the vanity.

  Darby’s butt hit the edge and she kept her balance by grabbing the nearest handle-shaped object in front of her. Reid sucked in a breath, and damn, if he didn’t start hardening in her hand.

  “They totally are,” she said, unable to keep another do-me smile off her face. “So let’s take this to my bedroom and see if you can score a perfect ten.”

  Chapter 12

  In hindsight, Darby probably should’ve kept her menagerie locked up in the laundry when a man stayed overnight. Not every guy wanted to wake up at dawn with a terrier snoring at his side or a three-legged tabby cat perched on his pillow, grooming his hair with cat spit and a rough tongue. No wonder Reid had hauled on his mud-streaked pants and shirt wrinkled from the dryer and left before her furry gang figured out there was a new person who could feed them breakfast.

  If only her fur babies had been the actual reason for the faraway look in Reid’s eyes as he’d given her a quick but hot see ya later kiss. Her stomach lurched as she finished pottering around the kitchen. At least, she hoped it was a see ya later kiss and not a been swell knowing ya, buh-bye kiss.

  Gah! She was totally overthinking this, and the only thing to do on a Sunday morning when she was overthinking things was go to church.

  An hour later, Darby slid through Saint Anthony’s wide open doors into the foyer. Marianne stood next to her minister husband at the door leading into the main auditorium, welcoming the faithful congregation. Darby hovered by the church donation box and elaborate floral arrangement, waiting to see if lightning would zap through the Good Shepherd stained glass window panel.

  Last time she’d been in this church her sex life had been on par with a nun. But now…she eyed the glass sheep’s beady stare drilling into her from across the church, accusing her of committing ten kinds of sexual sin in the space of eight deliciously wicked hours.

  “Darby?”

  She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Marianne’s voice. Swallowing a word not suitable for church, Darby whirled around, heart punching into her throat.

  “Hey,” she said weakly, hugging her handbag against her chest like a shield. “I made it this far without getting fried to a crisp.”

  Marianne’s gaze skimmed up and down Darby’s face, and after a moment her expression seemed to say she’d arrived at a conclusion. “I think you need the minister’s wife to do some ministering, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Give me a minute,” she said. She crossed to her husband and whispered something in his ear. He dipped into his pants pocket and handed Marianne his wallet, turning to give Darby a little wave.

  Marianne hurried back to her, slipping her arm through Darby’s. “C’mon, let’s go next door.”

  That surprised a laugh out of Darby. “You want to go to a bar on Sunday morning? You’ll be smited.”

  Marianne rolled her eyes and dragged Darby outside. “Eh. Only if we use all of the fifty bucks in Warren’s wallet. It was his idea—even he could see you need a drink.”

  “Ouch. I must really look like crap.”

  They hit the church steps, Marianne smiling at a few straggling parishioners but not slowing to chat.

  “Actually,” she said once they were out of earshot of an elderly couple, “your face has got what I like to call a post-coital baboon-butt glow.”

  Darby clapped her hands to her cheeks, which, okay, were a little warm. “Jeez, Marianne—you’re gonna get me smited.”

  Marianne chuckled and held the bar door open for her. Keeping up with the times, Saturn served light meals daily, and Sunday was brunch day. A server directed them to a dimly lit corner of the room—perfect—and left them with menus.

  “If we order breakfast, we can justifiably make it a champagne breakfast, right?” Darby asked.

  “We do have something to celebrate, then?” Marianne opened her menu. “Your date with Hugh must have gone well.”

  For a moment Darby blanked. Her finger, which had been tracing the plastic sheet between French toast and blueberry pancakes in a silent eeny, meeny, miney, mo, froze. “Um. Not especially. I think I insulted his manhood, not to mention bruised a couple of his toes in the process.”

  “Then who put that”—Marianne flicked her hand in the direction of Darby’s face—“sparkle in your eyes last night?”

  Her cheeks now at a temperature to act as a hot plate for either French toast or pancakes, Darby artfully positioned the menu in front of her face. “Reid.”

  “Reid Hudson?” Marianne repeated at a decibel level that startled the server arriving table side to take their order.

  After they’d ordered breakfast and finished a brief discussion on a glass versus a bottle and decided this was a bottle kind of situation, Marianne folded her arms on the table and leaned forward.

  “You and Reid, eh?”

  At least this time not everyone in Saturn could hear Darby broadcast her admission of guilt.

  “Yep. Me and Reid.” It sounded odd connecting their names together in the same sentence when she still couldn’t believe that just friends had in the space of a few hours become friends with some seriously freaking awesome benefits.

  “I’m guessing the two of you were doing something last night other than playing a Scrabble tournament?”

  “There were no board games involved from approximately 10:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m., correct.” Darby ordered the fizzing area south of her belly to settle down. No more orgasms for you, she told herself. Don’t be greedy.

  Marianne tapped the center of h
er closed lips with a fingernail, studying, assessing. “Interesting,” she said, “how your terrible poker face has gone from guilt-ridden to sexually smug in less than ten minutes.”

  Darby kept her mouth shut in case she blurted out something to the effect that she had every reason to be smug after four universe-expanding orgasms in the space of eight hours.

  “Which, as an observer of the myriad of human emotions, tells me a couple of things.”

  She paused for effect, likely waiting for Darby to confess all. Marianne had the kind of caring face that her friends and parishioners fell over themselves to confide to.

  When Darby sealed her lips tighter together, Marianne continued. “It tells me that Reid didn’t hang around this morning and you’re not sure what to read into that.”

  Damn, she was good. Darby’s mouth twisted and Marianne gave her a knowing little smile.

  “And it also tells me that although you obviously had, ah, fun with him, you don’t know where to go from here. Or how to deal with all these mixed-up feelings when you are clearly on the slippery slope of falling for this man.”

  Darby’s jaw sagged and not even the timely arrival of an open bottle of bubbles could rehinge it. The server gave her an odd look as he filled two glasses and left them with the bottle.

  “It’s not that serious,” Darby finally said. “It was just one night, and as you figured out, Reid didn’t hang around for the aftermath.”

  Bubbles fizzed and popped in the glass. Her pulse quickened into a conga line as her conscience called her out, having spotted the kernel of hurt festering in her heart at Reid leaving so early. Not that she’d been expecting breakfast in bed with rom-com early-morning-after chitchat.

  Man, did she need some alcohol in her system right about now.

  “If it wasn’t that serious, you’d be home going about your normal Sunday routine instead of risking smiting by coming to find me at church.”

  “Touché. Your judgy-pants side is showing.” Darby snatched up her champagne. She drained half of it before meeting Marianne’s gaze again.