by July Dawson
"I want to," he said. "I love the taste of your lips on mine, Naomi. I want to know how every bit of you tastes."
He pressed his lips to my center, and I made a small sound of surprise and desire. Rob kissed me, slowly, his mouth parting, his tongue seeking. I groaned as his tongue found a steady rhythm, pumping in and out, and I found myself melting with desire. My fingers curled in the carpet, seeking purchase; the sensation of his mouth on me was so powerful, sending waves of desire through my body, that I almost couldn't bear it. I tried to pull my hips away from him, and his strong arms latched over my thighs, holding me tight as the sensation built up, pleasure so intense it was almost pain and then suddenly, just pleasure, a wash of pleasure as powerful as the roll of the ocean waves.
When I fell loose-limbed and languid on the carpet, the orgasm ebbing away, leaving my clit swollen and sensitive, I thought I couldn't bear being touched anymore. Rob touched my cheekbone lightly, his face self-satisfied. "You're flushed.”
"That was nice," I admitted. “I hadn’t realized.”
"You've never had anyone do that for you before?" he asked, his tone disbelieving.
I shook my head.
"What's wrong with some men? Well, I'm glad I got to be the first, then. I love the way you taste, Naomi. Every bit of you is delicious." He leaned in, his handsome face so close to mine, and I turned my face to kiss him. His lips carried a foreign, smoky taste, something I'd never had in my mouth before. It was nicer than I'd thought it would be.
His hand brushed across my stomach, and I stopped him with my fingers on his wrist. "I can't. Not yet. Let me do something for you."
"Oh, Naomi.” He kissed my hairline, his thumb on my chin. “You do everything for me."
18
Rob
I woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the open windows to the balcony. I'd forgotten to close the shades last night. Or the doors. Naomi and I had been too busy having rowdy, let's-make-up-for-lost-time sex. On my floor, the bed, against the wall. I rubbed a hand over my face, surprised at how unexpectedly that had all unfolded within the last twenty-four hours. How amazing it had been. Hard to believe that only a few days ago, Naomi had been pointing her angry little finger at me, reminding me of how awful being a Delaney was.
Now she lay with her back to me, the sensuous curve of her chest and waist in profile making me stir with desire for her again. I wanted to run my fingers over her beautiful olive skin and wake her up for round two. Or round six, depending on how you looked at it.
Naomi stirred, turning so that her face was in profile. Her dark hair spilled back from her forehead, fanning across the pillow. That face— the high cheekbones, her wide hazel eyes accented by thick eyebrows, the accidentally-pouty cast her lips so often took on—made my heart skip a beat.
God, I was in trouble. This was a fling, a fling; I had to remember that. I was going to be on my way back out of Rhode Island before I knew it. I had to make sure Naomi knew that, too. I thought of my wish-filled words on the deck the day before, what if it wasn’t just twenty-three days, and felt a new stab of guilt. I wouldn’t mind trying for more than twenty-three days with Naomi, but long-distance relationships are hard, a relationship with a SEAL is hard, and a relationship with a Delaney is damn near impossible.
"Good morning, beautiful," I murmured.
"Good morning, you," she said shortly, but a faint smile touched her lips.
I leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek. Despite Naomi's hard edges, her skin felt soft as a smooth nectarine. "I thought I'd slip out and get us some breakfast."
"You know how to fry bacon?"
"I am capable of being self-sufficient," I promised her, bounding out of bed. I pulled a t-shirt over my head; Naomi sat up in bed, drawing the sheet up to her chest, as she watched me appreciatively. I offered her a self-deprecating smile. "I just choose not to be."
"I knew this was all a trap," she said, settling back down in my bed.
"Absolutely." I pulled on my sweatpants and then headed down the hall, down the stairs— god, what a trek every time you wanted a snack, it made my compact San Diego apartment seem like the best deal ever—and into the kitchen.
Where I came face-to-face with my grandmother, who stood at the stove already dressed in madras and a polo. She quirked an eyebrow at me as if she knew what I was up to.
"Morning," I said. “You're up early."
"I always wake up early. I'm putting the kettle on for my morning tea. Have you seen Naomi?"
"Mm? No."
"Strange. She's supposed to be here by eight every morning when we're at home."
"At home, really?"
"You don't still consider this your home? Not a bit?" She sniffed. "I told your father he should sell the place, but he can be such a romantic when it comes to you boys."
"Sure," I said, because I didn't feel like arguing that one today. She always had a very different take on Mitch than I had. I opened the fridge, pulling out a glass container of strawberries and another of cherries. I opened the sleek metal bread box, but it was empty. "Do we have any pastries left over from yesterday?"
"You're not going to keep those chiseled abs of yours if you eat pastries," she said, nodding towards a box on the end of the counter.
"The occasional croissant is not my enemy.” In a hurry to get out of the kitchen, I threw the box on top of the fruit.
"Who's the girl?" she asked slyly. "Do I know her?"
"Don't worry about it," I said. "It's not serious."
"Well, Rob, you are thirty."
"Next year."
"I know you don't want to hear about how you should settle down while your latest conquest waits for a cannoli, but you really should think about it."
"I don't need love advice." I threw it over my shoulder as I headed for the doorway.
"Oh, you definitely do.”
I made my way up the stairs, trying to shake off her words. Of course, as awful as she was, she was right that I didn’t have a handle on normal relationships.
Her words finally fell away when I walked back in and Naomi smiled across the room. She sat up in bed, her elbows propped up on her knees. "Hey."
"Hey," I said softly as I closed the door with my shoulder, my arms full of breakfast. I would avoid the subject of The Lurking Grandmother for now, for both our sakes.
I threw myself down on the bed besides her and tossed the big white pastry box into her lap. "As good as bacon? Better than bacon? I don't know. Certainly faster than bacon."
She lifted the flap and inhaled deeply, a look of pleasure coming over her face. It made me stir with longing all over again.
"What's in there?" I looped my arm around her waist. I'd all but skipped the deserts during the Kate incident, eager to be away from the lunch table. I had wanted to escape Grandmother's conversation with Kate and the awkward small talk with Senator Gray.
"All kinds of delicious things," she said, poking through them. "I have missed leftovers from your family parties."
"So would you like it if I moved back to Rhode Island?"
She looked up with her teeth already half-sunk into a cannoli, her eyes widening. For a second, she looked like a sexualized ad for a bakery, and I had to stifle a laugh. She chewed thoughtfully, as if she were evaluating the pastry for a state fair ribbon, and swallowed. She was clearly in no hurry to answer that question.
"I think we both know that would never happen," she said.
"No," I said. "It wouldn't. I'm married to my SEAL team. Just... curious."
"Mm, that's not the kind of thing you get to be recreationally curious about," she said, but her tone was mild.
"If you happened to move to San Diego, I wouldn't be dismayed."
"Well, Rob, in this hypothetical alternate universe, I wouldn't be dismayed about you moving to Rhode Island."
There was powdered sugar on her pink lower lip. So I kissed her. I had to.
Naomi paused for a second, very still, and then she thr
ew the cannoli back into the box and wrapped her arms around my neck. She kissed me hungrily.
I slid my hands around her waist. Her skin was soft and warm, and I let my hands roam her body. When my palm stroked over her thigh and slipped upwards, she jumped, but she smiled. I threw my thigh over hers, trapping her there as I caressed her.
She moaned softly into my shoulder, and I felt the growing wet heat of her on my fingers. I kissed her shoulder, her breast, the soft curve of her stomach. My lips pressed against her thigh.
The door opened, and Grandmother walked in quite casually.
"Oh!" Naomi said, diving beneath the sheet. She pulled it out of my hands as I, dumbfounded, rolled off the bed. I grabbed the blanket that hung at the foot of the bed.
My heart pounded like I was a teen boy caught in the middle of some very personal act as I flung the blanket around my waist, but I sounded steely-cold and angry when I asked her, "What the hell do you think you're doing in my room?"
"Oh," she said, pressing her hand to her heart, "I'm so sorry I interrupted you two, Rob."
"Why does that not have the ring of sincerity?" I asked.
From here, I could see Naomi tented under the sheet, the look of consternation written across her beautiful face. But Grandmother wouldn’t be able to see Naomi from her angle.
"Believe me, this is embarrassing for all of us," she said. "Grandparents do not want to think of their grandchildren as sexual beings any more than grandchildren want to think of their grandparents as sexual beings..."
"Stop. Talking."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "So you're feeling better about that family curse?"
"There is no family curse."
"Really? Your father lost the two most important women in his life under highly tragic circumstances. I could have sworn you thought you and your brothers were damaged goods now too..."
"Nope," I said. "As has been pointed out to me lately, I'm a well-educated, gentlemanly Navy SEAL with a decent family fortune. I don't think I'm a bad catch."
"If anyone could catch you." Grandmother waved in the direction of the lump under the sheets. "Good luck, sweetheart!"
"Out!" I said again, taking a step towards her.
Grandmother swept towards the door, still smiling. "Do you have dinner plans?"
I closed the door behind her once she was in the hall— she kept walking without waiting for the answer that certainly wasn't coming— and then locked it. Which I should have done earlier.
I turned back to the ghost on the bed with an apologetic smile. "She has a flair for the theatrical. Ignore her."
Naomi pulled the sheet off, exposing tousled bedhead. God, I wanted to crawl back over the bed and make love to her all over again.
But Naomi was biting down on that sweet lower lip. She whispered, "Do you think she knew I was in here?"
"No," I said. "How would she know?"
Naomi shrugged, the movement making her breasts rise and fall, and I couldn't take it anymore. I threw myself onto the bed, reaching for her.
Naomi pulled away, a smile of surprise blooming across her red lips. "She's in the hall! What's wrong with you?"
"You," I said.
She rolled her eyes. "I'm so irresistible."
"You are."
"I have to go," she said, slipping out of bed. Then she stood there, adorably naked, raking her fingers through her wild curls. "But how? Out the window?"
"I'll take her out to lunch," I said. "If you promise me that you'll be here when I get back, looking all innocent."
"Ugh, Rob, what a mess."
"Don't tell me you have regrets," I said.
She shrugged.
"All right, whatever," I said. I leaned forward and kissed her, and even if she regretted the amazing sex we'd just had, she pressed her lips to mine in one demure kiss goodbye.
19
Naomi
That night, I pulled in to my parents' driveway a little too fast, the tires bumping over the gravel, and put the car into park. I leaned across to the passenger seat of my car and tossed my sunglasses and makeup kit into my purse. I gathered up the canvas tote with a bottle of Dad’s favorite wine and the Italian bread and artichoke dip Mom had asked me to bring as offerings for family dinner. I was late, which was bad enough, and I had to leave early to take Rob to Logan Airport. I'd stopped by the house to take care of the kitties, had phone calls to make for the business, and then had to hustle to shower. I couldn't show up at my parent's house smelling like sex. Like Rob.
I hurried out of the Jeep, trying to squash my sudden sense of guilt. What was it about my childhood home that made me feel like I was still a teenager, like I'd just done something wrong?
I thought of Rob's mouth on mine. That had been worth wrong. That had been worth waiting ten years for.
Think about bread. Think about artichoke dip and manicotti. Do not think about the warm weight of Rob's hands, the soft noise of pleasure he'd made and I'd echoed as he caressed my breasts.
"Mi!" Mom called from the doorway as I hustled up the brick walkway. "You're never late!"
"There's a first time for everything, Mom." I smiled at her, handing her the bag. First time for everything. With Rob. Our first kiss in the hotel room. And then that had escalated quickly into other firsts with him and... Oh, get it together, Naomi.
The kitchen was full of energy. It felt packed even though it was just Alice stirring sauce and Mom bustling around the way she did. Alice glanced at my face and then lit up herself, grinning.
"Pour Mom a glass of wine," Alice told me. "Now that you're finally here with it. Mom, you work too hard. You and Dad go sit down at the table. Eat some of that relish tray. Why did you make a relish tray for the four of us, anyway?"
"I like to cook you for you kids," Mom said, trying to shoo Alice away as she, in turn, shooed Mom toward the dining room.
I shook my head to myself, but I brimmed with the sense of well-being I often felt in this cozy nest of family. I worked the wine opener into the cork, popped it out, poured four glasses of wine with a deft hand.
"Listen to Alice," I told Mom. "Let us finish dinner. You've been cooking for us for thirty years. It's okay to let someone else take a turn."
"Kicking me out of my own kitchen," Mom groused playfully. "Fine."
She took two of the glasses of wine and made her way slowly into the dining room, calling for Papa.
Alice pointed the spatula at me. "You look happy. Like something interesting has happened. And I need to know all about it."
"I assumed that was why we were kicking Mom out." I quickly filled her in on recent developments, leaving out the details a little sister wouldn't want to know.
"And you say there's a second rich, hunky Delaney brother coming in tonight?" Alice asked, her eyebrows lifting teasingly.
I groaned at the thought. "More Delaneys. I don't know if I can handle more Delaney."
"I hope you wouldn't... there's a one-brother-quota per person."
"Alice!" I said, appalled. "That's not how I meant that."
Alice grinned mischievously as she began to slice the bread. "Then you shouldn't mind if I come over and help clean that big house. You obviously don't have time to do it all, with your... other duties."
I bristled slightly. Leave it to Alice to tease me about something that was so sensitive. Alice was my best friend, but sometimes she drove me nuts.
"Oh, come on," Alice said, catching the look on my face. "I'm playing. You know I'm beyond excited for you. You've always like Rob so much."
Pacified, I admitted, "I can't believe he still likes me too. In some sense of the word, anyway..."
"Old crushes die hard," Alice said. "How long is he here for again?"
"It doesn't matter. I'm not worrying about the future."
"Oh, bull shit," Alice said. "You're always worrying about the future. You're probably debating whether you would even want to have babies with someone that tall. What if some of your kids are super short and ot
hers are giants? How awkward would that be? The short ones might resent being so petite. I know I always hate having my pants hemmed."
"I'm not," I said. "The only thinking into the future I've done is debating whether he'd even stick around."
"That's the opposite of not worrying about the future," Alice said. "Not worrying about the future would be like, man, this guy is hot, we should have wild and crazy sex."
I glanced toward the living room. "Keep your voice down.”
"It's okay to say sex in front of Mom," Alice whispered. "Anyway. My point is, worrying that you have no future is the worst kind of worrying about the future. Why don't you just have fun with him and see what happens?"
I pulled a face, poking at the boiling pasta with a wooden spoon. "Rob said I don't do fun. Or that I'm not fun. One of those things."
"He's wrong, you know," Alice said. "Deep down, I'm sure he knows it, or he wouldn't be drawn to you."
"You think so?" After all, Alice had never hesitated to throw boring at me. I knew I wasn’t like her. Alice was bubbly and effervescent and, while Alice could be a lot to handle, she was never boring.
"Trust me," Alice said. "You've already accidentally gone down the laidback, see-what-happens, have-some-wild-and-crazy-sex road. You might as well keep heading down it."
Mom came in then, unable to resist supervising for very long. Alice and I exchanged a long look and, despite Alice's brave declaration, talk about Rob and sex moved to the back burner along with the green beans.
When the four of us were all gathered around the table, Dad asked, "How's the Delaney house?"
Alice couldn't help but snicker, turning her face down towards her plate. Part of me wanted to reach out and smack my sister like we were still in elementary school.
"It's great!" I said lightly. "Rob's been keeping me busy."
Alice, eyes wide, chewed her mouthful of green beans quickly as if she were trying to swallow before she choked.
"I drove him to Boston," I forged on, trying to get them all onto neutral ground. "To see Mitch."