I cried out and tensed my legs around his ass, electrified by how damn hard I came. He pounded twice more, jerkily, and grunted with his release.
Call me greedy, selfish, but I was awfully proud that I managed to come before he did. Years of inaction? Sue me if I worried he’d be quick to blow.
“I can’t believe—” He slumped to me, a heavy weight I welcomed as I try to snatch myself from floating away to the contented bliss of a coma. “Believe I lasted”—another harsh puff for air—“more than ten seconds.”
Giggling, I took comfort that we thought alike.
I’d never slacked on insisting a guy gloving up, and I wondered how different cleanup would be. A moot point, though, because I had a more pressing dilemma in my hands. Literally, in my hands, as I stroked them up and down Jack’s back as he regained his breaths. How the hell was I supposed to pick up the pieces after this? Sex before tonight seemed like little scrimmages of physical itches. Rushing to climax with Jack? I failed to understand why it’d be so different. Why I’d be lying here so raw and exposed like he’d prodded some inner switch in me to make me crave more.
He’d said he wanted a relationship when we were dancing. Fine words a lady like me swooned at. I liked to be upfront with a man that one-and-done wasn’t my aim. But…what exactly did Jack mean? A weekend relationship? Ordering I’m with him, I’m with her screen-printed T-shirts? More?
“You”—he slid over a smidge to kiss the corner of my lip—“were infinitely worth the wait.”
But was this worth the risk of my heart?
Sixteen
Jack
Since we’d already “slept” together the first night here, I knew Lexi was a bed hog. A total monopolizer of bed space. Sheets, pillows, they were hers, no qualms about it. With her limbs stretched in a jackknifed sprawl, I had a hard time guessing how to reenter the bed after I left her to go to the bathroom. I was quick to learn though, that if I spooned her, her body was malleable enough to agree with mine being on the mattress. And as soon as I tucked her close, she turned and clung to me in her sleep.
Which was how we woke in the morning, still naked and wrapped around each other. Only we’d done some kind of unconscious shimmy to put my hip one millimeter from falling off the damn bed. Gently, I brushed her hair out of her face—again, how did that not smother her?—and eased her to sleep in the middle of the mess we’d made of the sheets.
I pulled on a pair of clean boxers and a plain T-shirt before I searched for my phone in my pants. After settling on the chair, a bottle of water on the desk, I sighed. Time to face the music and attempt damage control.
Bev: You didn’t have to make out during the first dance, you know
She’d texted that around eleven last night. In short, yes, we certainly did.
Bev: BTW her purse is in her brother’s room and her bag is in the bridal salon.
Bev: PS, if you treat her like shit I’ll kick your ass, O’Connor. Don’t even think about using her.
The last two messages had been sent only a half hour ago. Surprising, since it was her first morning as Mrs. Paul Manning. She should have been sexed out or something, right? Coming down from her high of bride royalty? Then again, it wasn’t like she and Paul hadn’t screwed before. And Paul was starting to look worse for wear at last night’s dinner with that finger still egg-shaped.
Still, the fact Bev could step outside her universe and crazy train of being a bride to look out for Lexi’s safety and comfort? It was kind of sweet. Proof my coworker showed a hint that she might be a normal person again someday. Never mind the fact her threats were unfounded.
Me: Nope. She’s too special to me. No worries on that front.
I, on the other hand, might have a couple of teeny issues. One of fearing Lexi would break me someday, and another of having to hold myself back with her. We burned off a mountain of pent-up lust and sexual frustration last night, but the depth of how much more I wanted her in the gaining daylight scared me. Was I clinging to her in the aftermath of finally letting her close? Would this be too much too fast for her?
Bev: She’s too trusting. I know how you are.
Me: Then you’d know I’d never screw up her trust in me.
It pissed me off to no end that Bev stereotyped me as a womanizer without knowing the facts, but she had never, and I’d assume she would never, spread rumors about me being an abusive and controlling asshole.
Bev: Well, I’ll relax when I see she’s as happy as can be at the breakfast.
About that. I scratched at my chin and glanced at Lexi softly snoring in bed. Dammit. How did she do it? I shot to my feet and brushed those soft but suffocating tresses from her face again. Truth was, I kind of hoped to score an out today. I wasn’t in the mood to sit through a post-wedding breakfast-brunch any more than I was to suffer through watching them open gifts and crap before they took off for their honeymoon this evening.
Me: I’ll make you a deal.
Bev: It’s my wedding, O’Connor!
Was. Last night was her wedding. Of course, if she extended the “wedding” to encompass all the activities for the month before the ceremony, I should have expected her to carry on the day for the month after it too. Like claiming a birthday month instead of a birthday.
Me: And it was lovely
Bev: But?
I wanted to spend time with Lexi. Call me selfish, I don’t give a damn. I’d have to report to the station at seven o’clock tonight because I was picking up the overtime of filling in for Bev’s absence. She hadn’t had enough vacation time until I graciously volunteered to ensure her shifts were filled. Which was a lucky damn break because I had already requested my trip months ago. First thing at dawn on Monday, I was taking off for the week in New Zealand.
Me: I want to spend time with Lexi.
Bev: Then marry her. Then she’ll own you for the rest of your life. But right now, it’s MY WEDDING DAMMIT.
Jesus. Did she listen to herself? I blinked fast. The suggestion to be with Lexi didn’t frighten me in the least. But Bev’s sanity was freaky. Maybe she was already pregnant or something because wedding nerves couldn’t change a woman this much. Right?
Me: I’ll make you a deal…
Bev: …?
Me: First week you get back, I’ll ride shotgun.
October was almost here, and with it, colder, wetter weather. Shotgun meant you were the poor fool who exited the cruiser to approach vehicles, stepping into the fall freeze. The other guy driving the cruiser, well, he or she got to stay warm and dry inside.
Bev: Two weeks.
Me: Hell no.
Bottom line, I could whisk Lexi away with me to my house and I could turn off my phone. Bev and I weren’t so close that she had any hold over me.
Bev: Whatever. Probably better you guys shack up instead of forcing all of us to see how disgustingly sweet you are on each other.
I smiled. Wasn’t she supposed to be all whacked out in bridal superiority and want to spread the wealth, forcing everyone else into lovey-dovey couples? Something else was up.
Me: So…when’s the baby due?
Growing up in a house of all females, plus witnessing my sister expecting her four kids taught me enough. And my instincts rarely failed.
Bev: Ha. Ha. Shut up.
Me: Better start planning for that maternity leave.
Bev: You have a 6th sense or something??? No pillow talk with Lexi. She can’t know. She’ll squeal and tell everyone. My mom doesn’t even know yet.
Lexi loved babies? Good to know.
I groaned. Je-sus. Was I getting ahead of myself, or what?
Truth of the matter, which was a lot blunter the morning after than the night of, was Lexi and I were new. Just getting to know each other without gossip from others. If I had to consider her dating experience, she had, it seemed, a lot. Many ex-boyfriends and most with short shelf lives. Was the flavor of permanence something she had to acquire?
I could muse my ass three different routes
to insanity if I let these fucking insecurities gnaw on me. Like an honest-to-God creep, I watched her sleep for a few more minutes. But if she startled awake, and found me just gazing at her… Yeah. I wouldn’t appreciate that hardcore vision either. As much as I wanted to spend time with her—awake, preferably—I couldn’t bring myself to rouse her. She hadn’t had the luxury to return to bed at dawn like I had yesterday, and I sympathize with functioning on too little sleep. So I did the next best thing available. Sat next to her on the bed and watched ESPN. Not baseball. I didn’t want to subliminally drug her even deeper into sleep.
God. How could she not like it at all? It wasn’t a deal-breaker, though. To each their own.
Twenty minutes later, she jolted up, making me wince at the thought level five of the volume gauge was too loud on the TV.
Her internal alarm clock must have buzzed because she not only jerked up so fast I lost my breath, she vaulted out of the bed to land on one foot, the other still wrapped around a sheet.
“Fuck!” She attacked the fabric and then spun around, shoving her hair out of her face. “I’m late. Shit, am I late.”
“Lex—”
“No. It’s crunch time. Move! I need my clothes. And toothbrush. Any brush”—she fisted a mass of brown tresses and forced them clear of her eyes again—“we need to haul ass and get to the damn breakfast. Bev’s gonna freak the ever-loving hell out.” On her hands and knees now, she scrambled to her discarded bra and panties from the last night, surveying the room. “I can wear these again but where’s my bag?” With a gasp and her hands flying to cover her mouth, she stared at me wide-eyed. “Oh, my God. I still haven’t even checked in!”
I crawled over to kneel at the edge of the bed closest to her. “Lex. It’s okay.”
“Being late is okay?” She lowered her hands and clutched them together as if in prayer. “I think it is. But better late than never is not allowed in Bev’s weekend.”
“Lexi,” I said and pulled her to stand. “It’s all right. I talked with her.”
She closed her eyes and whooshed out a breath of air. “You’re like a human snooze button. Thank you.” Her hands pulled mine to her lips for a grateful kiss. “But we should still get moving and get down there before—”
I laughed then, shaking my head. “No. I told her we weren’t coming. At all.”
Her hands left mine and shot to her hips as she stared at me, lines of concentration on her forehead before she scrunched into a frown. “We can do that?”
“Why not?”
She huffed. “Because it’s Bev. And—”
“—it’s her wedding.” I stood and rolled my eyes. After I cupped her chin and pulled her in for a soft kiss, I said, “It’s fine. I told her we didn’t want to go.”
She didn’t want to go, correct? Maybe I was assuming too much here and there was a reason Lexi’s exes didn’t last long. Perhaps because she didn’t let them last long if the guys overstayed their welcome.
“Wow.” She threaded her fingers into her hair and sighed. “That’s…perfect.” Then she blasted me with a blinding yet coy smile.
“I wanted to spend the day with you. If you want. I’ve gotta report to work for a shift at seven, but”—I shrugged—“I’m all yours until then.”
“Again…perfect.”
I explained that her belongings were safe in other rooms and offered to go fetch them and scrounge up some food for us. Then, we could play it by ear.
“Then I’ll hop in a quick bath while you’re gone.” She stretched her arms up and groaned, shoving her breasts even higher in the air. “Damn, am I sore.”
My cock twitched at the free show she was so easily giving me. Not to mention the pride I savored at getting her so sore in just the right ways. “I can help you with the bath first.”
She smirked. “Like how you helped me with stripping last night?” Leaning forward, she kissed my cheek and gently pushed me away. “I need a breather before round two. You’re not looking at a twenty-something spring chicken.”
“But I do like what I see.” I stepped back again to make sure I could burn this image in my mind until I was a grouchy old man. “And nudity suits you well.”
She lowered her arms from her semi-yoga pose.
“Now there’s that blush again. Maybe nudity should be our thing.”
I was turned on even more by the fact she didn’t try to hide or cover herself. “Yeah?”
I nodded and adjusted my hardening dick. “From now on”—I flicked my finger back and forth between us—“you and me, naked from here on out.”
She tossed a saucy smile over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom.
“When we’re with each other,” I hastened to add.
I couldn’t see her anymore as she left the bedroom, but I heard her call out, “I don’t share.”
Damn straight.
“And, uh, when we’re not in public,” I added too.
The upper half of her body poked around the doorway and she raised her brows. “You’re the only one who’s brave enough to do that…” When I nodded but didn’t leave, she cleared her throat. “You plan on just standing there?”
I tilted my head. “You distract me.”
She waved her hand in front of her breasts like she wanted to snap me out of my stare. “Then I’ll keep on distracting you when you get back. I’m not going anywhere.”
I really, really liked the sound of that. After I rushed forward to kiss her once more, keeping my hands behind my back, I left to play fetch.
I cajoled leftover meals from the reception hall’s kitchen and rounded up Lexi’s belongings from the other rooms, luckily escaping questions from the people who were still in them and not at the brunch. Almost. Her brother handed me her purse with a firm pat on the back and a warning that he knew exactly how to knock teeth out with a deserved punch if I ever hurt his sister. I assured him I wouldn’t think of harming Lexi. But I did briefly consider passing on the word of Lexi’s viral breakup so that idiot could get his molars knocked out via a fist. We could tag team.
At the bridal suite, I found one of Claudia’s slaves knocking back a shot of something hard enough to make her cough like she had COPD. She pointed out Lexi’s bag and I slung the strap on my shoulder, biting back a smile at the line You Shall Not Pass printed below a cartoon of Gandalf on the fabric. Then I came back to find Lexi out of the tub and waiting in a white robe the lodge provided.
I don’t know if it was the connection of me having worn a similar garment when she first saw me, but I was hungrier to take it off her than I was to eat actual food. Eventually, we did eat the cold but still salvageable leftovers and began our “thing” of nudity on a strong streak. Lexi argued for a tit for tat system, where if she wore one item of clothing, I was allowed one of the equivalent surface area. Which was how we ended up watching a rerun of The Hobbit, her in her panties and me with one foot in a sock.
Mostly naked, kind of fed, and repeatedly sated in all lust-fueled ways, we put a stamp on our new relationship in a casual, lazy manner. Of course, six o’clock came too soon and I was not ready to leave her. Spare me. I blamed my clinginess on the newness of what we were exploring.
“Here it is,” Lexi said and handed me her unlocked phone.
I’d already put her digits in my device earlier. After typing it in and saving it under my name, I let the phone drop to the mattress next to her where she lay on her stomach. Thank God fully clothed now, because with minutes to spare to get to work on time, I wouldn’t have resisted tasting her again.
I tipped a finger under her chin and gazed at the caramel heat in her eyes. She climbed up to her knees to get at least chest level with me. “I’ll call you when I can tonight. No telling if the rain’s making a mess out there.”
She nodded and I tucked her hair back so I could frame her face fully. “Be careful.”
“Always. And if I can’t get a hold of you during my shift, I can call you after?”
Her brows waggled a
s she hummed. “Goodnight phone sex?”
I chuckled and pressed a kiss to her pouty lips. “Whatever we’re in the mood for.”
Before I could let myself get any more lost and addicted to her kisses and touches, I stepped back. Pausing at the open door, I pulled my duffle bag onto my shoulder and lifted my hand to wave.
“Hey, Jack?” she said as she left the bed and came to the door, holding it open for me to step into the hallway.
I cocked my head, waiting.
“Miss you already.”
“Me too.” With that, I watched as she winked and shut the door.
Seventeen
Lexi
When I had driven from work to the Barton Lodge last week—huh. Wow. That was only three days ago? Damn did this weekend fly by too fast—I was thinking of Jack. I hadn’t known it was him, but I’d enjoyed those visual treats of him posing nude at that class, and I tormented myself with wondering why he’d be smirking and checking me out. On the return trip that evening, I had a bout of déjà vu. Thinking of him again, but this time I had many more sights to recall. Of him talking filthy to me as he went down on me in the shower. Me restraining his hands to the side as we tried out the couch. Him holding his hot-ass body over me, pumping hard and fast, his biceps corded and rippling under my hands.
“Well, dang it if it’s warm in here.” I spun the button to crank on the air. Rain streaked down the windshield so fast I had the wipers whipping at ludicrous speed. Headlights lined up in the oncoming side of the highway like a blurry attempt of a rope light and I was thankful people heading west like me at least knew how to handle a vehicle in the downpour.
Across From You Page 14