Faking It

by Dorie Graham

  Erin murmured something in her sleep and pressed her bottom against him. He hardened almost immediately. If he was sick, it sure as hell wasn’t affecting his cock. He nuzzled her neck while cupping her breast and drawing circles around her nipple with his thumb.

  She made a soft sighing sound and arched so that her sex, already swollen and damp, rubbed his thigh. He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue and slipped his hand over the tight swell of her ass, up along the crease of her thigh, over her soft folds, where he lingered long enough to dip his fingers inside her before spreading her wetness over her clit.

  Heat curled through him. She again moaned softly but did not come fully awake. He continued to stroke her, and she shifted so the tip of his cock brushed her slick entrance. He sucked in a breath and stilled, his every effort focused on not pressing into her. She was hot and aroused and lusciously asleep.

  She moved again, more insistently, and he nearly slipped inside her. With the last thread of his senses he grabbed a condom off the nightstand. His hands unsteady, he tore open the packet, then readied himself.

  For one quick moment he let his gaze drink in the sight of her tight ass and her pink flesh, so ready for him he ached with the need to take her. When she undulated against the bed, he gripped her by the hip and in one tantalizingly slow thrust seated himself deep inside her. He stopped for a moment to steady himself. If he was to wake her like this, he should do it gently. But she moaned and pressed back against him, and the pressure of her inner muscles tightening around him shredded the last of his control.

  He thrust into her, the heat and tension spiraling through him. She gasped and her hand covered his as she came fully awake. “Jack.”

  “Erin.” He cupped her breast as he continued to thrust in a rhythm that grew more frantic with each passing minute.

  Her sexy cries urged him on as lights flashed all around and the heat seared him. Her body stiffened and she cried out as she came, her muscles rippling around him, squeezing him in the most intimate caress. With one final thrust he came, swallowing the triumphant yell that burned in his chest.

  For long moments he lay spent, spooning her. She clasped her hands over his, her breasts heaving with her exertion, a pretty flush staining her skin. He kissed the nape of her neck. “Good morning.”

  Smiling, she rolled over to face him, her eyes still sleep-filled. “Good morning.”

  He let his gaze drift over her. Her eyes were as green as glass, her lovely breasts rosy and beaded, her lips smiling dreamily. He traced his thumb over her full bottom lip. “You were rubbing against me when I woke up. I couldn’t help myself.”

  “You don’t hear me complaining.”

  His stomach clenched and he frowned as the nausea hit him again. He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “I’m a mess. Let me get cleaned up.”

  She traced her finger across his chest. “Want some company?”

  “Uh, give me a few minutes?”

  His cell phone buzzed again from its place on the carpet, vibrating against the bottom of the dresser with a rattling sound. Erin frowned and sat up, seeming to come more fully awake. Her eyes rounded in alarm. “Jack, are you okay?”

  “Feeling great. I’ll be right back.” With a forced smile he retrieved his cell phone from the floor as he bypassed the adjoining bathroom and headed for the one down the hall.

  She tucked the sheet around her, worry etched into her face. “I’ll be here waiting.”

  He nodded and hurried down the hall, bile rising in his throat and his stomach spasming. Clutching the phone, he turned on the water, then heaved into the toilet. This was getting ridiculous.

  What the hell? How could he feel so off-the-wall fantastic one minute, then so wretched the next? He heaved again, his stomach twisting.

  Within a few moments the attack had passed. He pressed his hand to his chest, and his heart beat steady and strong beneath his palm. Well, there was that.

  Strange, the illness came and went more quickly with each occurrence. Maybe that meant he was getting over whatever it was. After he’d cleaned himself and aired out the bathroom, he checked his cell phone.

  His brother had called. Twice. He hit the button to return the call, then waited through several rings before Bobby picked up. “Yo, Jack, where you been?”

  “I’ve been…busy. What’s up, Bobby?”

  “Aren’t you coming over here? I can’t do this on my own. You know how hard today is for her.”

  Shit. It was Saturday already, the twelfth of November. How had he let that sneak up on him? “Yeah, I’m coming. I…uh…have someone here. Let me see what’s going on and then I’ll get there as quickly as I can.”

  “Man, hurry, she’s already started with the food. She’s been baking since last night.”

  “Tell her I’m on my way if she asks.”

  “If she asks? Who do you think had me call you?”

  Jack wrapped a towel around his waist as he hurried to find Erin. She wasn’t in the bedroom, the master bath or the kitchen. A rustling pointed him in the direction of the living room, where he found her.

  She’d dressed in the clothes she’d worn last night. Papers and books surrounded her, as well as a ring of fabric swatches. She didn’t glance up as he entered. “How are you, Jack? Are you feeling okay? Did you have a touch of…that bug you had before?”

  “No, nothing like that.” He hated lying to her, but she seemed so upset by the prospect of him being ill, it seemed the better way to go. “How are you?”

  She nodded and busied herself over the pad she’d used to take notes the other night. “Just thought now might be a good time to get started.”

  “It’s Saturday, Erin. Are you sure you want to work today?”

  Her gaze remained fastened on her notes. Her voice sounded strained. “This project is going to take some doing. Better to get started so I can wrap it up in a decent amount of time.”

  His stomach tightened. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  She still did not look at him. “Nothing. I just have a lot to do. I want to finish drawing these plans for you to look over before I get started and I’m sure you have…things to do, too.”

  “I do. I have to go somewhere. I have to see my family.”

  “That’s nice. I have to go see mine later this afternoon. You don’t mind if I stick around and work a little first?”

  “No. That’s fine.” He stood for a minute, torn. He should get moving, but she seemed upset about something. He couldn’t leave her like this. He reached for her. “Hey, weren’t we going to shower together?”

  She flinched away from him, her gaze directed at the floor. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why not?” He knelt beside her. “Baby, tell me what’s bothering you. Did I do something?”

  “No, it’s not you. It’s me. You touch me and I lose my head. I should just go.”

  “Don’t. Please, Erin, don’t run away from this. I want to be with you. I lose control when we’re together, too. Why is that a bad thing? The chemistry is that strong between us. It’s not anyone’s fault. That’s the way it is, and we’re damn lucky for it, if you ask me. I wouldn’t give it up for anything.”

  “You don’t understand. Last night—this morning—shouldn’t have happened.”

  “Why the hell not?” He gestured toward his bedroom. “You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that every bit as much as I did.”

  “Enjoying it isn’t the point.” She gathered up her papers. “Look, I can’t explain, but I think we need to take a break.”

  Anger and hurt warred in him. How could she find fault with what they had? “People would kill for the kind of passion we have. How can you not want that? Look me in the eye and tell me you really want this break and I’ll go along with it.”

  She met his gaze and a single tear trailed down her cheek. “I want us to take a break.”

  He stared at her a long moment while his insides twisted. Whether it was some residual eff
ect of his earlier attack or his body’s response to her rejection didn’t seem to matter. It hurt.

  Hell.

  “Why? I think I deserve to know that much. What did I do—or not do?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I told you, it isn’t you. You’ve been great.” Her voice shook. “If I tell you, you’ll think I’m nuts.”

  “I think it’s a little nuts to throw away what we have.”

  Red rimmed her eyes. “Great. Maybe I am crazy. That should be reason enough.”

  “You are not crazy.”

  “Remember when I told you about my nutso family? How they believe they’re a bunch of sexual healers and how they think I’m one, too?”

  He shrugged, unable to hold her gaze. “Maybe that’s not so crazy. Maybe there’s really something to it. I’ve had more energy since we’ve been together.” And no dizziness or pains in his chest. “I’ve been feeling pretty good, actually.”

  “Have you really?”

  He glanced up at her and the knot in his stomach tightened. “Well, yeah, for the most part.”

  “And what about this…this bug or whatever it is that you’ve had? Have you noticed anything about the timing?”

  “The timing? It’s been off and on, but it always goes away. What do you mean?”

  “Think about it, Jack. When do you get sick?”

  “Hell, Erin, what are you getting at?”

  “When do you get sick?”

  He sat back on his heels, frowning. “The first time was Wednesday night.”

  “The first night we made love.”

  He shook his head. What was she saying? “The next time was the next night.”

  “After we made love again, right?”

  “That’s just a coincidence.”

  “We’ve been together for the past three nights and you’ve been sick each time, haven’t you? Each time after we make love.”

  “That’s crazy. People don’t get sick from sleeping with each other.”

  “Oh, but it’s not a stretch to say people get healed by sleeping together?”

  His face warmed. “Okay, that’s a stretch, too.”

  “Jack, this isn’t the first time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This has happened before. At first I thought it was some weird coincidence, too, but it kept happening. And always after I had sex with a guy. It’s me.”

  “You?” He blinked at her.

  “Yes, me. I’m Typhoid Mary reincarnated. Maybe I really do come from a long line of sexual healers, but if so, then something went wrong in the gene pool when I came along.

  “I didn’t mean to be with you,” she said. “It just kind of happened and then I thought that you were okay, that maybe because you didn’t get sick right away in front of me like the others that maybe you’d be different—immune somehow. Last night when your friend Amanda was here and she started talking about you being sick…I knew then that we couldn’t be together. But you touched me and I can’t keep a straight thought in my head when you’re touching me. I…”

  “Erin.” He touched her arm. The thrill that always ran through him when he held her—when her skin touched his—was still there. “I don’t know about any of that, but I do know that when I’m with you, the world suddenly makes sense. How could you be making me sick when touching you, being with you, is the only magic I have ever experienced?”

  “I have to go.” Her voice was soft, tormented. She rose, clutching her belongings, and headed for the door. She glanced back at him before she left. “Goodbye, Jack. I’ll be back to work the redesign, like we agreed.”

  He stared at the closed door after she’d gone. How could she believe such a thing? They’d work it out. At least she’d be back. He’d convince her later that she was mistaken.

  For now, he had to get to his mother’s house, where he would gorge himself on all of his sister’s favorite foods that his mom made…for his sister who had died seven years ago to this day.

  WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HER? Erin stopped in her living room. Her quiet, normal living room with every throw pillow and magazine in place. Her lonely living room in her lonely apartment.

  Who was she kidding? She’d never have a normal life. Normal lives were for normal people. She slept with men and made them ill. That was not normal.

  She dropped her things on the coffee table, then headed for the shower. And she’d made Jack sick. Poor, sweet, unsuspecting Jack. When Amanda had said he’d been sick, Erin had known she needed to break things off with him.

  But then he’d kissed her and she’d been lost. She should have resisted him, for his own good. The thought of him being ill because of her mortified her. How many times had she let him take her last night? Heat filled her at the flood of memories. And then this morning, she’d dreamed of making love to him, of him touching her, slipping inside her.

  But it hadn’t been a dream.

  She turned the shower on hot, stripped, then stepped under the spray. Memories of her shower with Jack flowed over her. Her skin tingled. Her nipples beaded.

  Why did she have to be tainted? It was so unfair. Maybe she would have been okay with being the only McClellan without the gift of sexual healing. But this? This was some kind of cruel joke.

  Jack might say he wanted her now, but how long would he be able to take it? Who wanted a woman with the power to twist a man’s insides until he retched?

  Stupid, stupid woman.

  She’d known better than to get involved with him. How could she have such poor restraint? She had to finish his condo as quickly as possible.

  Maybe they could work out a schedule where they weren’t there at the same time. Jack worked from home some, but he spent a good amount of time out in the field and in clients’ offices. Maybe the best way to stay out of his bed would be to stay clear of him. She’d call him later to work out the details.

  Her heart heavy, she finished washing, then dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. The light on her answering machine blinked. She pressed the message button.

  “Hey, sweet girl, this is Thomas. I understand you need some help installing some halogen lights for your mom. I’m going to head over there. I promised Maggie I’d come play gin, so I’ll be there whenever you can make it. See you soon.”

  She let the message erase. How could she have thought Jack might be her Thomas? Obviously the only reason Thomas was still around after all these years was because he’d stayed out of Maggie’s bed. None of the rest of Maggie’s lovers had had any staying power, not even Erin’s or her sisters’ fathers.

  The afternoon was well worn by the time she picked up the lights from her shop, then headed for Aunt Sophie’s. When she arrived, Tess’s car sat in the drive. Erin closed her eyes. Tess and her exuberance for life were always a little hard to take. Today would be even harder.

  “There’s my other girl.” Thomas answered the door, a mug in his hand. He gave her a quick hug. “We were wondering when you’d get here. Come help me. Your mother is whipping my ass.”

  “I’m not much of a gin player.”

  “We’re playing crazy eights.” Tess slapped an oversize card on the stack in the middle of the table.

  Maggie sat across from her and Aunt Sophie sat beside her at the massive oak table in the kitchen. As always, something herb-scented sizzled in the oven and Aunt Sophie’s ever-present teapot sat on the stove.

  “Hi, honey.” Maggie patted her arm. “Come on, join us. We can deal you in the next round.”

  “That’s okay. I’m going to get the lights out of my trunk and get started on that.”

  “I’ll help you.” Thomas said.

  “No, Thomas, it’s all right. I can do simple wiring. I’ll need to throw the breaker, but the kitchen is probably not going to be affected.”

  “You sure, honey? I don’t mind helping.” Thomas asked.

  “I’ll call you if I need you.”

  “Wait, don’t run off without a cup of tea.” Aunt Sophie handed her a cup. “Ther
e, with cream and sugar, just how you like it. Oh, and take a honey cake. It’ll tide you over until dinner’s ready.” She handed Erin a plate with a small square of cake.

  “I don’t know if I’m staying for dinner.”

  “Of course you are, dear. Maggie’s cooking a pot roast, and you know how she likes to overdo. The thing is humongous. You have to help us eat it or we’ll be eating leftovers for weeks to come.”

  “We’ll see.” Erin sipped the tea. As usual, it was a blend she didn’t recognize but surprisingly hearty for a tea. She breathed in the steam and her spirits lifted. “This is good, Aunt Sophie.”

  “Just something I brewed especially for you. I had a feeling you’d need something with an extra kick to it today.” She tucked a strand of Erin’s hair behind her ear. “Always go with your gut, dear.”

  “Sure.” Erin raised the mug in salute, then headed toward Maggie’s studio.

  Aunt Sophie had some strange ideas. Erin shook her head. She would have to think about that one. Right now her gut was so twisted she had no idea what it was telling her.

  Thomas checked on her an hour later and helped her sort out the last of the wiring on the track lights she’d brought. By then Erin’s stomach was growling mercilessly. The tea and honey cake had done little to satisfy her hunger. It seemed she’d been hungry ever since she’d met Jack Langston.

  “I’m hungry, too,” Thomas responded to a particularly loud rumble from her stomach. “I think dinner’s ready. You’re staying, aren’t you?”

  “I guess so. I skipped lunch.” She threw the new dimmer switch they’d installed and stepped back to assess her handiwork. “Better, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely. She should be pleased, though truth be told, I don’t know that it will help for much longer.”

  “She’s getting worse.”

  “She doesn’t read or drive anymore. And did you see the size of those cards? Sophie found them in a novelty shop.” He heaved a big sigh. “But Maggie has a great attitude. I think it helps she knows we’re all there for her. Let me show you what I got her before we join the others.” He pulled a bundle from the cabinet above Maggie’s workbench. He opened it to reveal a huge square of gray clay. “It’s sculptor’s clay.”