Blogger Bundle Volume VI: SB Sarah Selects Books That Rock Her Socks

by Kathleen O'Reilly

“She’s probably just jumping into another relationship too fast. You know, I’ve seen women who break up with a guy, get their heart broken, and then boom, they stick to the next guy like glue.”

  “That could explain it.”

  “Has she said anything about this other guy?”

  “What other guy,” asked David innocently.

  “The guy she just broke up with. I bet she’s still hung up on him.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, what did she say?”

  “Geez, Barney, don’t get yourself so worked up here. David’s a nice guy. He’s not some shark among women,” Tony said.

  “Seems like an asshole to me.”

  David looked at him, hurt. This shouldn’t be so much fun. “Hey, I don’t know how I’ve offended you here. Let’s change the subject.”

  “I want to know what she said.”

  “She’s never mentioned another guy, okay. Why should you care?”

  At that moment, Barney took a long sip of his drink and started lying his ass off. “It’s happened to me before. I was seeing this woman who was talking about how special we were, and how things were so perfect, and I was thinking, hmm, maybe, and then suddenly, she mentions the guy she used to be in love with, the asshole she’s still in love with, and before I know it, I show up at her apartment, and who’s there?”

  “The asshole,” answered Tony.

  “It’s happened to you, too?”

  “Nah, I just figured it out.”

  “So she really loved that guy? She went back to him?”

  Barney nodded once.

  “He must have loved her, too. In that asshole way of his,” said David.

  Tony laughed, and David shot him a look. Tony stopped laughing and shrugged. “I thought it was a joke. It was funny.”

  Lunch broke up shortly after that, Barney leaving with a thoughtful look in his eyes. As for David, he felt strangely…touched. Maybe the bastard loved her after all. Maybe next time the man wouldn’t cheat. Maybe pigs would fly. But Martina seemed to have a thing for him, so who was he to judge?

  He’d have to tell Ashley about this one. She would laugh, and maybe, she’d think a little better of him. She’d seen a lot of his bad sides, and not too many of the good.

  “So, who’s the babe?” asked Tony, as they headed toward the gym.

  “Ashley,” he answered.

  “She’s a book editor?”

  David shook his head. “She owns clothing stores.”

  “You’re doing a book editor, too?”

  Tony was such a novice about some things. David rolled his eyes. “Nah, I made all that up.”

  Tony slapped him on the back. “You had me going. I was nearly hating you.”

  “We spar. I beat you. You can hate me again.”

  “You are one-hundred-percent triple-A asshole.”

  David grinned. “I know.”

  DAVID’S PLANE TO Chicago touched down six hours before they were supposed to have dinner with his ex-wife. Ashley was anxious to see him. To calm her nerves, instead of sitting bogged in traffic, she took the train to the airport and met him outside at the arrivals area. The sunglasses were to keep her eyes from giving away too much, but the hat gave away more than her eyes ever could. He saw her, grinned, and she started to laugh.

  It felt so marvelous to laugh.

  He flicked at the brim, took off her sunglasses and nodded once. “I will never look at this hat the same way again.” Then he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, and she wanted to laugh again. He did that. Made her happy inside. His mouth tasted like airplane coffee and too many lonely nights, and she could feel the hunger growing inside her. Fourteen days shouldn’t have been that long for a woman who once had a dry spell last a year and a half. Now fourteen days was more than a lifetime. And fourteen nights. What she would give for fourteen nights with this man. Against her thigh, he was thick and more than ready, and she rubbed—only once because she wasn’t that cruel. David groaned nicely.

  “Where’s your hotel?” she asked, because she wasn’t that cruel, either.

  He gestured toward the shuttle bus.

  Ashley looked up, surprised. “Here? Our hotel? You got a room at O’Hare?”

  He shrugged, a flush on his face. “I know. It’s goofy. You don’t need to remind me.”

  Something inside her melted to goo. She would have wagered he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. She would have lost. “I don’t think it’s goofy. I think it’s cute.”

  “Cute? Oh, God. I don’t want to be cute,” he said, but his eyes held a dark liquid green that warmed her.

  The shuttle was slow, the airport was packed, and the waiting was interminable. His hand crept out, his fingers curled around hers, and she didn’t mind. The shuttle driver wanted to chat. He thought they were on a layover, headed to some tropical vacation spot for honeymooners.

  “It was the hat,” the driver told Ashley. “And you have that look.”

  She blushed, not wanting to blush, but doing it anyway. David was different. She was different. The world was different. Ashley told herself that it was a rehearsal for meeting Christine the bitch, when she would need to act the part of devoted lover, right now, though, there wasn’t any acting involved.

  When they got to the hotel, it was different, too. Oh, sure, they didn’t get that far into the room, but this time, David lifted her, the hat falling helplessly to the ground. With his hips, he pinned her against the door, and she wrapped her legs around him like the hussy she was. One hand fisted with hers, holding it there between them. The other hand grabbed tight at her waist like an anchor. His mouth locked with hers, kissing her as if it’d been a lifetime since they’d been together. For three heartbeats he held her there, hands joined, mouths joined, and then she could feel the length of him, thick and hard between her thighs, and she wanted to be joined there as well.

  “Hurry,” she murmured against his mouth, her hips already starting to grind because she knew the fast rhythms of their sex. It was the rhythm of her blood, her heart.

  David raised his head, stared into her eyes, and her body stilled. This was different.

  His eyes were raw with passion and something far more damning. Today she could see herself reflected in his eyes. The way he saw her. The tenderness, the love simmering there. Today he was changing things. Since Miami, he had waited, but he wasn’t a patient man, and she knew it. He wouldn’t wait anymore. Truly, he didn’t need to. The world was shifting, tilting, and it seemed appropriate that she wasn’t standing on solid ground. No, her entire being was balanced solely on him.

  Her blood bubbled with it, forgot the worries, forgot the doubts.

  Ashley smiled.

  Gently he feathered a kiss against the side of her mouth, pressed another to her lips, and then the hand at her waist slid down, lower, pulling her panties to one side, until there was a line of cotton cutting along her already overstimulated sex. The pain was exquisite, and she whimpered, pleading for him. At this moment, she was at his mercy.

  Thankfully, he didn’t make her wait long. His thrust was slow, stretching her, filling her, until she didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe, and she didn’t dare look away from the insistent demand in his eyes. She worried that he was going to be the death of her, this stubborn man laying claim to her heart, but she was more worried that he was also going to be her life.

  He was waiting, waiting for an answer. Slowly she pressed a single kiss to his mouth, it was the only answer she could give, and only then did he begin to move.

  It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. Today he was so sure, so gentle, so far removed from their usual overheated matings. She’d never seen this side to him, he’d kept it too well hidden, or maybe she hadn’t wanted to see. Against her skin she could feel the burn of his body. Strong thighs that would never let her fall. Strong arms that held her easily.

  Outside, the planes were taking off, roaring overhead, defying gravity. Inside, the
world was spinning out of control, defying gravity as well. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.

  The shadows of the sun cast a dark flush on his skin, a drop of sweat beading against his neck, and she licked it away, tasting his salt, tasting him.

  “I missed you,” he whispered. The simple words pulled at her heart.

  “You make up for it nicely,” she answered back, her body moving so perfectly with his. There wasn’t any humor in the words. She had tried, she had failed.

  His mouth nipped at the side of her mouth, once, twice, and then he was kissing her again, and Ashley was lost. It was so perfect it hurt.

  Her free hand curled tighter around his neck, bringing him close, bringing him deeper inside her. It was supposed to be a long-distance affair. It was supposed to be hot and torrid. They were supposed to have lost this passion once the newness wore off, once she got to know him better. Oh, God, she liked him even more.

  David touched the corner of her eye with his mouth. “Don’t cry. I would never hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  He unlocked their hands, held her and took her to bed. Then he bent and began to undress her. “I’m not going to take you against the door,” he said, and her shaking hands moved to the buttons on his shirt, the fly of his pants, until he was bare. Thick arms, a hard chest and a cock that jutted out impatiently. All hers.

  He lifted her shirt over her head, slid her skirt down her legs, exposing the thin gossamer of her bra and panties to his hungry gaze.

  She expected a bold compliment, a lusty remark, but he didn’t say a word, only the jerk of his sex betraying anything at all. Silently he moved over her, his mouth covering her breast through the thin silk. His lips pulled slow and hard, and her head fell back, her mind too drowsy with the feel of him, the scent of him, the touch of him.

  Sure fingers tossed her bra aside before his mouth returned to hers. He used his tongue, his teeth, all to leisurely drive her insane. This intoxicating new rhythm was killing her. Her legs spread wide, wantonly wide, slid up and down the length of his and the fine curve of his ass, which only seemed to increase the heavy pressure of his lips.

  Only once did he look at her. Her hand reached out, smoothed his hair, and she knew he was going to destroy her carefully ordered life.

  Their eyes met, and then he lowered his head, proceeding to do just that.

  It was a thorough seduction, coaxing her hands to wrap around his back, his waist. Eventually his mouth tarried lower, playing with the hollows of her belly, his fingers taking the band of her panties, pulling them down her legs, her skin burning, her nerves frayed.

  His mouth followed, dallied too long between her thighs, and she whimpered, and then moaned, and fisted her hands in the blankets, dragging the covers apart.

  In her entire life, Ashley had never been so thoroughly adored. There was no other word for it. He demanded so much from her, but he gave infinitely more. Now he knew her so well. He knew where to touch, where to tease, his hands soothing her hips, as he loved her so carefully.

  The hotel room felt like magic this day. The orange covers shimmered to gold, the late afternoon sunlight glistened against the walls like pearl. The thundering jets outside were only matched by the silent thundering of her heart. He took her hand, joined it with his and brought her entwined hand to his mouth. Then he slipped inside her, and quietly she gasped.

  I love you.

  She didn’t want to say the words, but they tumbled out before she could stop them.

  “Good,” he whispered, and took her mouth once more.

  Afterwards, when he had decimated the last of the feeble denials in her heart, he pulled her to him, and she stayed curled there. When she was this close, she could smell the crisp musk of his cologne, so slight, so subtle, mixed with the heady scent of David. Her nose tickled with the scent, with the crisp hair on his chest, and she wanted to stay here all day. To watch the moon play silver on his dark hair, to watch the sun bloom across his skin, to watch the rise of his breath as he slept. She’d never watched him sleep. They never had the chance. Tonight she would watch him sleep.

  Under her hand, his heart was steady and strong. He didn’t speak, and she was glad there were no probing questions, no insistent pushes. Not now, not today. Maybe he knew he had already won, and she had never clued in they were locked in a battle. It was the way of her life. Too much awareness, one day too late.

  So they both lay there, not speaking to each other, not looking at each, not bearing to be too far apart. The minutes ticked past, until his watch beeped once.

  “We need to go,” he told her. “The train leaves in half an hour.”

  Ashley nodded, and slipped on her clothes. “David?” she asked. The room was heavy with so much left unsaid. Normally, it wasn’t her way to ask; normally, it was his way to tell, and these new rules muddled her head.

  He buttoned his shirt, and came to her side, not touching her, but his eyes were the softest shade of green. “Let’s get through this. We’ll figure it out. I’m a smart man, did you know that? You should know that.”

  She smiled, slipped her hand in his, and nodded once.

  12

  THEY TOOK THE Northwest line to Norwood Park. Not one of the most monied neighborhoods in Chicago, but a nice one with trees and tidy lawns. One for blue-collar families who shopped at Sears, not at boutiques, and Ashley wondered about Christine’s new life. This wasn’t tony Manhattan. Not by a long shot. Ashley dropped the bitch label, only because now she felt a tiny bit sorry for Christine.

  As the train rumbled along the tracks, and the clock ticked closer to six, David grew more and more still. The locked jaw was back, the shoulders were so straight she swore he’d grown five inches, and his eyes had turned to ice. He wore a jacket and tie, as if this were business, rather than personal, but as a woman who donned bunny slippers and floppy hats in order to buck up her courage, she understood.

  “It’ll be fine,” she told him, with an encouraging smile.

  The smile he gave her was tight, and not so fine, as he vacantly stared out the window.

  He’s a coward. I knew it. Can’t take facing a little woman. What sort of man is that?

  Shut up, Val. You’re not going to do this to me.

  He’s still hung up on her. That’s the problem. Get over him, Ash.

  Ashley wished that David would talk, if only so she wouldn’t have to listen to Val’s voice in her head. It was a few blocks from the station to the house, but Ashley didn’t mind. The warm summer air was cool, and she made one-sided small talk, trying to ignore the pebble that was fast turning into a boulder in the pit of her stomach.

  The house was in a long line of homes that sat behind Kennedy Expressway. The noise of the cars was constant. There was a neat yard, lined with bright yellow and pink flowers, and a Subaru parked in the drive. As they approached the door, it opened, and a lady walked out. Tall, elegant, dressed in jeans and a sweater that was the pure vibrancy of Carolina Herrera. Possibly secondhand, but still jazzy. This woman was exactly what the name Christine implied, but she was smiling and waved happily, as if this were old home week. Whatever.

  What was odd was David’s reaction to her. His smile grew less cold, his shoulders relaxed and while the greetings were still somewhat stilted, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what Ashley had anticipated. Apparently, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what he had anticipated, either.

  “Come inside. Chris is out back, working on the lawnmower. It breaks down weekly.”

  And she left David for a man who drove a Subaru, and whose lawnmower broke down weekly? Okay, Christine was just flat-out stupid, thought Ashley, because there was judgmental and then there was factually correct.

  The house was tiny, a living room with dark paneling, a kitchen that was tidy, but locked back in the ’70s. However, Christine had left a mark. The artwork was top-notch, and there were fresh flowers in every room. In fact it was so nice that Ashley began to relax, David began to relax. Everything w
as fine until the man walked in through the back door, and then the locked jaw returned, the shoulders tensed, and David’s smile was gone like the wind. He didn’t even try to pretend to be polite. Ashley stared, confused.

  “David,” the man said.

  “Chris,” David answered with a tight nod. Then he seemed to remember his manners. “This is Ashley. Ashley, David, Christine.”

  Chris was nearly as tall as David, with dark hair and hazel eyes. Obviously Christine stayed to a certain physical type. “My brother hasn’t said anything about you,” Chris said, taking Ashley’s hand, shaking it in a gentlemanly way. Exactly like David.

  His brother? Ashley froze, removing all traces of anything from her face.

  Christine, exquisite hostess that she was, broke the silence. “Let’s go to the living room. Ashley, would you like something to drink?”

  “I’d love one, thanks.”

  “What do you drink?”

  “Whatever you have.” Tonight wasn’t the night to be picky.

  The inside of the house was tastefully shabby. The furniture wasn’t new, no Ethan Allen here, but it was obvious that Christine had a good eye. Apparently two. Oh, God.

  Ashley finally dared to look at David. He should have told her this. He should have prepared her, but unfortunately, David was too preoccupied with not looking at his brother.

  Oh, God.

  Ashley took a seat on the couch, David followed, and she grabbed his hand, her fingers digging into his flesh, not as much in anger as panic. They would get through this, they would get through this. If she repeated it often enough, it would be true.

  Christine, bless her, started to talk, and it took a moment for Ashley to register that she was talking to her.

  “So, how long have you and David been seeing each other? I mean, coming all the way from New York. That sounds fun, honestly. But serious, too.” Then she shot David a relieved look. “I’m glad to see it.”

  So Christine assumed that Ashley lived in New York, near David. It would be easier if Christine thought that, rather than trying to explain that Ashley didn’t live in New York. The whole plane thing. The whole travel thing. Ashley opened her mouth.