by Megan Hart
The shuffle of feet behind him moved them apart from each other like they’d been attached to uncoiling springs. It would’ve been too late to hide what they’d been doing if Jay had been paying attention, but the look on his face said he was too wrapped up in his own drama to have noticed what he’d walked in on. He saw them, of course, and since he’d already talked with Alice about her and Mick he might easily have guessed, but clearly he wasn’t in the mood to care.
“Hey,” Alice said, pushing Mick gently to the side. “What’s up? You okay?”
“Didn’t feel good.” Jay went to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of water. He filled a glass and drank it without looking at either one of them.
Alice looked at Mick, who shrugged. She looked at Jay, whose shoulders had slumped. Friendship or fucking, she thought, wishing she and Mick had gone to his bedroom ten minutes ago. With a sigh, she squeezed Mick’s shoulder.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked Jay.
Mick took a step back from her, eyes on hers, mouth quirked on one side. “I’m going to head to bed. ’Night.”
Jay turned as Mick left, so Alice didn’t watch him go. She looked at her friend, his face pale. Circles below his eyes.
“You look like shit. Are you going to puke?”
“No. Feel like it, though.” Jay lowered his voice and looked at the glass of water in his hand. He poured it down the sink and rinsed the glass, then put it in the drainer. His shoulders slumped again.
Shit. He might actually be crying. Alice put her arm around his shoulders. “Talk to me, Jay. Is it Paul?”
Jay nodded.
Double shit, she thought, but waited for her friend to speak. He didn’t at first. They stood in the kitchen in silence, until finally he turned to face her.
“He’s not going to ask me to move in with him.” The words clearly stuck in his throat, but he forced them out. He even managed to give her a wobbly smile. “I’m not even sure he’s not going to break up with me at the end of the weekend. I think he’s just holding off because he’s here with me.”
“Gross, Jay. Why would he do that?”
“So he doesn’t make it awkward.” Jay grimaced. “Because Bernie’s my friend, not his.”
Alice petted his shoulder. “It should be awkward for him, then. If he’s going to be a jerk.”
“He’s kind of always a jerk,” Jay said with an embarrassed laugh. “That’s part of his charm.”
Alice sighed and gave him another hug, but ended up laughing along with him. She squeezed him. “Is it worth me telling you to dump him?”
“You’ve known me longer than that.” Jay leaned into her embrace. “But I don’t want to wait for him to break it off with me, either. The rest of my weekend is kind of ruined, anyway. Can we get out of here?”
Alice hesitated. It was Saturday morning by this point, but she hadn’t planned on leaving until Sunday night. She’d been looking forward to another two days and one more night to spend with Mick.
“Please,” Jay said.
And, with a sigh, Alice agreed.
Chapter 23
Mick waited until lunch time to ask Bernie where Alice was. He thought maybe she’d slept in, or gone off to town with Cookie. Something, anything other than that she’d up and lit out without bothering to tell him she was going. But when noon ticked around and still no Alice appeared, he had to know.
“Jay wasn’t feeling well, so she took him home.” Bernie offered a bottle of beer, but Mick shook his head. “She left me and Cookie a note. Sorry, I should’ve mentioned it earlier.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.” Dayna had a platter of deli meat and cheese in both hands. She’d been on the way to putting it on the dining room table, but paused at Bernie’s explanation.
Paul, who’d been setting the table with flatware, put in, “He had a case of the vapors.”
Dayna laughed. Mick didn’t. Bernie smiled briefly, but without much humor. Cookie came out of the pantry with some bags of chips, and lunch carried on without more on the subject. If Paul felt the loss of his boyfriend at the table, he didn’t show it. He spent his time charming Dayna and Cookie with stories about his world travels. They didn’t talk about Jay at all, nor about Alice.
She hadn’t left Mick a note explaining her late-night escape. She hadn’t left him a message, either, though the cell service out here was spotty enough that even if she had, he wouldn’t get it until he was closer to home. He checked his phone anyway, dialing in to his voicemail just in case there was something there. Nothing.
And nothing all day, though he tried not to think about it too much. Still, he felt her absence too keenly to ignore it. At the lake, during dinner, the games they played after. He thumbed a text or two to her, but suspected they didn’t reach her. Either that, or she wasn’t answering him, and the thought of that was worse than the fact she’d ducked out without telling him.
Sunday morning, Mick made his excuses about wanting to avoid traffic and a heavy workweek ahead, and got on the road by 9:00 a.m. Bernie’s place was two and a half hours from his place, but only an hour and a half or so from Alice’s. He’d never been to her house, but she’d sent him a funny card in the mail a week or so ago. They’d been doing that, sending each other notes and cards. He’d had flowers delivered to her, too. He remembered the address.
It wasn’t until he was pulling into her driveway that it occurred to him he should have called first, in case she were still in bed. Or not home. Or had snuck out of Bernie’s house without telling him because she never wanted to see him again. But it was too late, he’d been impulsive and now here he was. He had two choices—get out of the car and knock on her door and tell her there was no way he could last another day without being inside her. Or, he could be responsible and respectable and not a creepy stalker sex freak and go home.
Mick got out of the car.
Chapter 24
Alice had been up since dawn, too wired and anxious to sleep any longer. She and Jay hadn’t gotten home until six yesterday morning, and she’d managed to keep herself awake all day so she didn’t throw off her sleep schedule . . . well, sort of. She’d been a zombie all day long, mustering little more energy than it took to watch old movies and read before she crashed at just past 7:00 p.m.
She’d slept hard, but fitfully. She’d dreamed of Mick. His hands, teeth, tongue, lips. His cock, hard against her. She’d woken in a sweat, the covers tangled, her body singing from the dream but aching from the lack of release.
He hadn’t called her.
She had left in a rush at Jay’s insistence, but she’d made sure to leave a note for Bernie. Surely Mick would’ve asked why she’d left. He might even have worried, a little. Jay was his friend, too. If he were really worried, wouldn’t he have at least called once?
She hadn’t been shy about calling or even texting him occasionally in the past few weeks, but for some reason her fingers now refused to punch in his number. She didn’t want to interrupt him having fun, she told herself, but the real reason was more complicated than that. Stupid head, she thought now with a jaw-cracking yawn. Making trouble for the body.
At the knock on her front door, Alice frowned. It wasn’t even noon on a Sunday, and even if she hadn’t had a terrible two days without enough sleep, shouldn’t there be some unspoken rule that nobody was allowed to come over without warning on a Sunday morning? She almost didn’t answer, that was how annoyed she was, but as soon as she peeked through the curtains covering the side transom window, her heart thudded. Skipped. Her stomach leaped.
“Mick,” she said as she opened the door. “What the . . how did . . .”
“I didn’t want to be there if you weren’t.” He stepped through the door and took her in his arms. “I’m going to kiss you, Alice. And then I’m going to take you upstairs . . . your bedroom is upstairs, right?”
“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” She grinned.
He kissed her. Slow. Sweet. But determined, no doubt about that. His tongue stroke
d hers, and Alice shivered with delight. She backed up one step, their mouths still lingering, and he followed. Step by step, laughing and kissing, shedding their clothes. By the time they got to the top of the stairs, Alice had stripped out of her pajama top and Mick was down to boxers.
She couldn’t get enough of him. Her hands were all over him, roaming. Feeling, discovering. Enjoying. In her bed, Alice rolled them both so she was on top, straddling him. When Mick made to grab her hips, she shook her head and gave him a wicked grin.
“Nope.” Pinning his wrists above his head, she let his mouth get close enough to her breasts to feel the heat of his breath—but not to actually get his lips on her skin. “Patience.”
Mick groaned, but didn’t try to get away. “I’ve been patient.”
“Shh.” Alice nuzzled the side of his neck and added a nibble of his earlobe.
His erection pressed her through the soft fabric of her pajama bottoms, and she rocked against it. But slow. She wanted to go fast, writhing and grinding, but this was the first time.
She wanted it to be special.
She found his mouth. She didn’t keep his hands pinned, but he kept them there anyway while their lips and tongues worked. Still so slowly that it was driving her out of her mind, Alice rubbed her pussy along Mick’s thick, hard cock. When the head of it peeked out from the top of his boxers, she nearly lost her mind . . . but she didn’t move any faster.
She sat up, her thighs squeezing his. She watched his face, his eyes closed, mouth open. He’d gripped the spindles of her headboard, and though she’d never have said she was a dominatrix sort of girl, the way he’d succumbed to her commands was absolutely flipping her switch. When she stroked her hand along his length, gripping him through his boxers and not actually touching flesh, his mouth tightened.
So beautiful, she thought with something like wonder, lost in the sight of how her touch was affecting him. She did it again, sliding her hand along his length, this time letting the tips of her fingers tickle the bare flesh peeking from his waistband. His mouth opened at that. Hips bucked. His cock leaped under her touch, and her pussy clenched.
Alice moved in small, tight circles, nudging her clit against the base of his cock. She let her head fall back a little, letting the pleasure build and build as she kept the pace excruciatingly slow. It seemed impossible, but she was going to come from this alone. She hadn’t planned it that way, but now she was getting so close, she couldn’t stop.
She opened her eyes to look at him, her breath catching in her throat. Her hands ran up his flat, taut belly, nails scratching. He bucked and groaned, at last letting go of the headboard to grab her hips. Their eyes met. Held.
Mick’s tongue slipped out to stroke along his bottom lip. Alice moved, desire flooding her. She said something, maybe his name or maybe a string of nonsense syllables; the sound was low and guttural and full of aching need. She couldn’t look away from him, not even as the pleasure overtook her and the edges of her vision went a little red and hazy.
She cried out as her orgasm rolled over her in slow, cresting waves that left her shaking and breathless. She rocked against him once more, thighs squeezing. Her hands had gone to cover his, holding his hands tight to her hips as she shuddered. When the pleasure faded, she fell forward to capture his mouth with hers.
“Drawer,” she said against his lips. “Condom. Must have you inside me. Now!”
Somehow, she rolled and he moved and the clothes came off and he had the condom on, and then, oh, God, yes, he was poised between her legs with the tip of his cock nudging her entrance, and all Alice could do was sigh. But instead of pushing inside her, Mick waited. He gave her a slow, knowing grin.
“Patience,” he told her.
She wanted to scream in frustration, but she laughed instead, and that was one of the sexiest things that had ever happened to her. Her post-orgasm glow hadn’t erased her arousal, not even a little bit, but somehow giggling made it all so much hotter. She’d never laughed in bed before, not that she could remember. But then nothing with Mick had been like anything she’d ever done or had with anyone before.
He rubbed the head of his cock against her clit, his face tight with concentration. It wasn’t the act itself that set her off, but his expression. A man determined to get her off again, even though she’d just come spectacularly from rubbing herself on him . . . Alice was lost. Consumed. Ignited.
“Wanna see you come again,” Mick breathed.
Alice arched, pushing her clit against him. She was so wet he slid against her as easily as the turning gears of oil-coated clockwork. She hadn’t thought she’d come again, not so soon, but already her orgasm was building at the slow and steady rubbing of him against her. She cried his name, shaking, and at the point of her climax Mick slid inside her.
Ecstasy slammed through her at the penetration. His cock slid deep. He kissed her, hard enough to bruise and bring the tang of blood, and Alice didn’t care. Her nails raked his back, and then he was fucking her so hard the entire bed slammed against the wall. She came again, or hadn’t yet stopped, she could no longer be sure. All that mattered was the feeling of him inside her, on top of her, covering her. Devouring.
His teeth found her throat in that way he had that made her lose her fucking mind. He said her name in a hoarse, desperate voice. Alice looked at him. She ran her hands along his tight biceps, then his chest. At the pinch of her fingers on his nipples, Mick lost it. He came with a shout and thrust inside her so hard she was sure they were going to break the bed.
Then, quiet.
The weight of him should’ve been too much, but she took a strange comfort in it and in the smell of them both—sweat and sex and heat and passion, an indescribable perfume she wished, in that moment, that she could bottle. She gathered him close and listened to the sound of his breathing slow. He pushed off her after a few heartbeats and kissed her. Then again.
She broke the kiss to take his face in her hands, looking into his eyes. “I can’t believe you came here.”
“When I woke up and you were gone, nothing else really mattered except seeing you again,” Mick said, and looked immediately ill at ease, as though his own words had surprised him.
Alice was smart enough not to let him linger on the revelation. Instead, she shoved him until he rolled off her, then got up to pull on a pair of panties and a T-shirt from the drawer. She looked at him over her shoulder.
“Food,” she told him with a smile. “I’m starving. Want some eggs and bacon?”
“You are the perfect woman, you know that?” Mick had been taking care of the condom, but he looked at her now with a half smile and a blaze of heat in his gaze.
She would never have claimed perfection, but the way he looked at her made her believe him. Or at least believe he meant it. And that, Alice thought as she took him downstairs to feed him and kiss him some more, was better than actually being perfect.
Chapter 25
Sunday dinner with Mom’s roast chicken and all the trimmings had been a McManus family tradition since before Mick’s birth. He hadn’t been to church in years except for a few weddings and a couple of funerals, not even at Christmas or Easter, but that didn’t usually stop him from heading over to his parents’ house around two o’clock to be fed. He’d watch some TV with Pop, argue with his older brothers Jack and Jimmy, get a lecture or two from his younger sister Mary who thought that being married with three kids somehow gave her the responsibility of making sure everyone else was as crazy as she was.
Mick had never brought a girl around before.
Somehow, this morning, waking up in Alice’s bed with the smell and taste of her still all over him, inviting her along to Sunday dinner had seemed the most normal thing in the world. Especially since he’d spent the last four Sundays waking up in her bed, usually making love to her before making his retreat early enough in the morning to head home and grab a quick shower before heading to his parents’ house. She’d never complained or questioned. Never pouted l
ike lots of the other girls he’d dated would have. Which was exactly why this morning after spending a nice thirty minutes with his mouth between her legs, Mick had asked her to come along. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that they were in the driveway, he was second-guessing.
“You okay?” Alice gave him a sideways glance. She’d unbuckled her seat belt but hadn’t yet made a move to open the door. She leaned forward to peek through the windshield at the house. “Should I be more nervous?”
Mick tapped the steering wheel to the beat of a song only in his head. “No. Of course not.”
“Should you be less nervous?” she teased, and leaned across the seat to kiss him.
Bam, just like that, she’d managed to make him want to laugh and toss her in the backseat all at the same time. Five words and she’d figured him out exactly. When she tried to pull away from the kiss, Mick held her closer for a second.
“Are you afraid they won’t like me?” she whispered against his mouth, then pulled away enough to search his gaze.
“No.”
“Are you afraid I won’t like them?”
“Maybe,” Mick admitted.
Alice smiled and swiped her fingertip across each of his eyebrows. “How bad can they be?”
It wasn’t that they were bad, exactly. “I’ve never really brought anyone around before. That’s all.”
Alice’s grin disappeared as her eyebrows went up. “Oh. Shit.”
Mick laughed. This girl, he thought. This girl was amazing.
“Well, no pressure on me, then,” she continued, sitting back and smoothing her skirt. “Not like I have to be extra special or anything.”
Mick pulled her close for a lingering kiss that threatened to turn into a full-on make-out session if he wasn’t careful. That’s how it was with them. Always on, always hot, always making him want more, more, more. He settled for a nibble of her jaw and a nuzzle against her neck, making her shiver. Her nipples would be tight and hard, too, he thought, and almost reached for her before he caught himself. He did have to shift a little in his seat to accommodate the sudden tightness in his crotch.