by Mara Wells
“You mean like I’ve made it awkward?” He spoke the words to the top of her head. “I should’ve known you would’ve done your homework. You always were such a nerd.”
“A nerd you couldn’t keep your hands off of.” She tipped her chin up and brushed a soft kiss against his lips.
“True.” He whispered against her sensitive lips. “But you didn’t seem to mind.” He increased the pressure of the kiss, licking the seam of her mouth until she opened for him. Mmm, she could kiss him for hours. But she had other things on her agenda tonight.
“Tell you what.” Danielle scooted back. “Why don’t you come over here?” She widened the distance between them until she was centered on the bed again. “And lie down?” She waited while he followed her directions, joining her on the mattress flat on his back. She swung one knee over his hips and lowered herself down, her flared skirt billowing around them. “And let me do all the work.”
Danielle felt him harden against her, in the spot already hot and wet for him. She leaned forward, kissing her way up his chest as her hands moved the T-shirt up and over his head. The Semper Fi tattoo mystery was finally solved. It tilted up his arm and onto the bicep where a fierce eagle stared her down. She leaned down and kissed the bird’s beak, then traced each inked letter with her tongue. Knox sucked in a breath and then seemed to forget to release it. She sat back, pleased with her work. All that skin. All that muscle. All that Knox.
And it was all for her.
* * *
Knox didn’t know where to look first. As always since what seemed like the beginning of time, his eyes were drawn to her breasts. They strained against the thin fabric of her dress, a peek of her lace bra showing above the purple fabric. Or her eyes, so deeply brown they appeared black in the dim light of his bedroom. Or her face, so pleased with herself. So intent on him that she actually licked her lips, and he didn’t think she was aware of how sexy that unconscious gesture was. He’d spent a good portion of their senior year devising ways to get into her pants. He couldn’t deny the gratification at watching her plot how to get into his.
But first this dress had to go. He skimmed his hands up her thighs, gathering the material in his fists and urging her to lift her arms. She was so small that he didn’t have to lift off the bed much to get the dress over her head. He flung it off the side and lay back to enjoy the view.
And what a view it was. She had the most magnificent breasts. He lifted up, abs tightening, to take one in his mouth. She threw back her head, leaning into the pressure, and with a lift of his hips, he made her moan. And moan again. When she was panting for air, she broke away long enough to skim his dark jeans and skivvies off his body, and then she was back, plumping her breast for his mouth, her knees on either side of his hips.
This time when he lifted up, she arched her back, taking him inside. With her head thrown back, the long column of her neck stretched and exposed, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“I was wrong earlier today.” She smiled down at him, placing her palm in the center of his chest.
How could she form words? He was so close. He kept his eyes on her, kept the rhythm going. She closed her eyes, apparently luxuriating in the feel of him, her hips still rolling with every thrust. She bent down and cupped his face in her hands.
“This is the real heaven,” she said and kissed him. Her words shuddered through him, and his vision blurred around the edges. She was killing him, but he couldn’t stop. She met him stroke for stroke until she was on the edge, and when she came, he went with her.
“Heaven,” he agreed when he could finally speak again. She was already asleep.
Chapter 22
Shit, shit, shit. What had she done? Danielle couldn’t deny that waking up with an eyeful of Knox was no hardship, but she hadn’t meant to spend the night. One time, she’d promised herself, one night to remember, and then she’d go back to her perfectly normal, perfectly comfortable life and not worry about any kind of future with Knox Donovan. Who was she trying to fool? This was her pattern—to be good, so good, for so long that when she cracked, it was never in moderation.
In her twenties, she’d tried lots of ways to lose weight, cutting out carbs and sugar for weeks, even months at a time. Hell, she’d been vegan for a whole year, a dietary choice undone by severe abdominal cramps and the belief that a slice of cheesecake would make her feel better. One piece turned into two and two into four, and she’d felt exactly like she was feeling now—out of control. She was old enough to know better now. Starvation always led to binging, and there was no doubt she’d been starving for Knox’s touch. If only she’d woken up early enough to sneak out.
But no, she’d overslept, and Knox was looking at her with those midnight-blue eyes in a way that did something to her insides, made them all gooey. She didn’t want to starve herself again, but she couldn’t have ice cream for dinner every night—not without paying a price. When Knox found out what that price was, he wouldn’t look at her like that anymore. She let out a long sigh.
“Good morning.” He didn’t smile, but he looked happy. Face relaxed, eyes crinkled in amusement. He looked like a man who’d gotten laid, and she probably looked like a raccoon tumbling out of a trash bin.
“Where’s my phone? I need to text my dad.” Danielle thought she’d be home by midnight. Flurry and Luna hadn’t been out in a very long time. Luckily, her dad was an early riser and hadn’t yet left for the clinic. He texted back immediately that he was happy to check on the dogs. He even sent her a winky face. A winky face! From her dad! When had he learned to use emojis?
“Everything okay?” Knox rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand.
Everything was not okay. Her brain was mush. All she wanted to do was snuggle up to him and go for round three. Or was it four? Last night was one long blur of pleasure. At least it would be a good memory, once she walked out of here. Once she let Knox know they couldn’t have anything more than yesterday. And last night. And friendship. Of course, friendship. That had been the deal, right? One date, then back to normal. That was how she remembered it anyway. That the date extended itself into the next day was a mere technicality.
“Looks like you need coffee.” He rolled that delicious body away from hers, and she did not—would not—groan at the loss or ogle him as he dressed. Okay, there was a little ogling, but if this was her last memory of him like this, what was the harm in savoring the moment?
She dressed to the sound of him rooting around in his kitchen. In the bathroom, she scrubbed at the raccoon rings under her eyes, vowing to ask Sydney if there were some kind of mascara that didn’t eventually migrate off the lashes and into dark circles. She flushed, she brushed, she gave herself a stern look in the mirror. Do it now before you get too attached. Oh, who was she kidding? She was already too attached. Do it now before you can’t.
She entered the kitchen, determined to say the words that would break her heart all over again. Except the look Knox gave her when she walked barefoot into his kitchen, his gray T-shirt reaching to her midthigh, nearly undid her. She had to do it now. Immediately. But first, coffee.
Knox held out a steaming mug to her, and the scent of a fresh brew made her mouth water almost as much as the sight of his tapered abs disappearing into his low-hung camouflage pajama bottoms that weren’t camouflaging anything. No doubt about it, topless Knox scrambled her thoughts.
She sipped from the too-hot cup, letting the caffeine reanimate her dormant brain cells. Then, she spoke the death knell of every relationship she’d ever had, including the one with him. “We need to talk.”
He took the ceramic mug from her hands and set it on the counter next to his. “We do. One sec, though. I think this is really important.” He rested his hands on her hips and pulled her toward him for a kiss. He tasted like how she wanted to start every day for the rest of her life—coffee and heaven and the secret sauce th
at was all Knox.
What was one more time in the grand scheme of things? Technically, it was still part of the same date. She kissed him back, suddenly frantic for more of him. All of him. He met her kiss for kiss, walking her backward down the hall and into the bedroom until her knees hit the edge of the bed. She tumbled onto the rumpled sheets, Knox’s weight bearing down on her. She felt tears rise in her eyes, so she closed them tight. She would be strong later. Do the right thing later. Be sad later.
For now, she gave herself over to Knox’s touch, his questing fingers, the desire that thrummed between them. If later all she’d have of him were memories, didn’t she deserve to make the best ones possible? At least this kind of binging was calorie-free.
* * *
Without a puppy, a leash, or a Homestretch brochure in her hand, Danielle wasn’t quite sure what to do with the floppy appendages at the ends of her arms. Behind her, two more women arrived at the Dorothy’s lobby, bridal-shower-themed gift bags in their grips. Danielle cursed herself for contributing to the honeymoon fund online instead of bringing something tangible to give Riley. Danielle settled for stuffing her fingers into her armpits, freshly showered as she was, and adopted a kind of nodding-bobbing head motion as she stood in the Dorothy’s lobby surrounded by more feminine company than she’d had at once since she dropped out of the Brownies in the second grade.
“Danielle!” Carrie held out both her hands, forcing Danielle out of her chosen stance and into the awkward position of deciding if she should offer her armpit-palms to Carrie. Carrie’s smile was so wide and welcoming—and it wasn’t like Danielle had been hiding where her hands had been—that she threw caution to the wind and let Carrie pull her toward a side table where a few older women were gathered around a centerpiece of pink roses. “So glad you made it! You remember my mom, right?”
Danielle nod-bobbed at Sherry.
“Hi!” Sherry popped out of her chair to give Danielle an unexpected hug. “Don’t you look darling! Let’s get a selfie for your dad.” Sherry held her phone at arm’s length and squashed her face next to Danielle’s. “If there are two people, it’s not really a selfie, is it? What do they call it? An ussie?” Sherry laughed and checked the photo she’d taken. “This is terrible. Carrie, will you take our ussie?”
Carrie took her mom’s phone. “I’m pretty sure me taking the shot makes it a plain, old picture, Mom.” She snapped a few angles and handed the phone back.
Sherry took a few moments to choose her favorite. “Alan will love this one, don’t you think?” She showed it to Danielle for approval.
Alan? Sherry was texting Danielle’s dad? Sure enough, there was a whole string of texts, going back for days. Maybe weeks. With winky faces! Was her dad… Were they…? Her brain stuttered to a halt.
“Looks great!” Carrie grabbed Danielle’s arm and dragged her away. “Come on. There are more people to meet.” Once they were out of earshot, Carrie whispered, “You look stunned. Didn’t you know they were dating?”
“I did not.”
“Mom’s really happy. I hope you don’t mind?” Carrie pushed a stray hair back into the loose bun at the base of her neck.
Danielle looked back at Sherry, who was showing the pictures to the woman next to her. “I don’t.”
“Good.” Balloon strings dangled from white and iridescent balloons, catching in Carrie’s hair. She shoved them out of the way with good humor. “And where were you this morning, huh? Sydney showed us some pictures of your outfit last night. You looked amazing.”
“I, uh, overslept.” Danielle felt heat rush her face. She was probably pinker than the balloons floating overhead. “We had a nice time.”
Carrie frowned. “Nice? With those heels? What is wrong with my brother-in-law?”
“Nothing!” Danielle’s vehemence took both women by surprise. Danielle toned it down a notch. “It was a perfect date. I can’t believe Sydney dropped everything to help me out. And how did she even have dresses in my size?”
Carrie took the distraction bait. “Sydney’s condo is better stocked than most boutiques with loans from all the designers she works with.”
Danielle relaxed now that the subject was no longer her date with Knox. Her mind lingered on her morning rather than the small talk Carrie kept up as they headed back toward the large, circular table in the center of the lobby. One more time had turned into two more times, and she’d had to sneak out on a sleeping Knox in order to dash home to get ready for the bridal shower. So they hadn’t had The Talk yet, which meant she was technically still free to fantasize.
She imagined that yesterday’s date could turn into another, then another, until they were spending most nights together. Eventually, they’d skip the going-out part of dates to enjoy staying home to watch movies and eat popcorn together on a couch she’d help him pick out. He’d keep her favorite orange blossom tea on hand, and she’d have her own toothbrush in his bathroom. She could picture Luna and Flurry lounging in the backyard with Sarge while the puppies scampered in the grass.
It was scary how easy it was to imagine her life with Knox in it again, the new fantasies layered over the old ones, twining together to show her a future she desperately wanted. She couldn’t have that future, but she could enjoy today, heavy with the possibilities, before facing the reality of her situation once again. Forcing Knox to face it, watching his expression dim as she killed all those lovely possibilities. The sadness, a long-time friend, knocked threateningly on the mental door she kept it locked behind, but she reinforced those mental dead bolts. A bridal party was no place to melt down.
Carrie plowed a path through a gaggle of guests toward where Riley sat at the main table with her Grams beside her. More pink roses sat in a glass vase, and petals were scattered across the cream linen tablecloth like confetti.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Danielle said when she got to Riley, a bit unsure why she’d been included in the prewedding festivities. Morning coffee at the dog park was one thing, but wedding events were a whole other level of friendship. She suspected that it had something to do with Knox, but no one knew about last night. Not all of last night, anyway. Besides, she’d been invited long before their date.
So she wasn’t officially here as Knox’s…whatever they were at the moment. Maybe it was that the morning coffee talk so often centered around wedding preparations that Riley thought it would be rude not to invite her. Maybe she was a pity guest. Her hands crept back toward her armpits, but she detoured them to the pockets in her navy slacks instead.
“We girls have to stick together against all that Donovan male posturing.” Carrie laughed, and Danielle blushed. So she was here as Knox’s…whatever. Carrie introduced her around the table, and Danielle nod-bobbed some more, relieved when they got to two familiar faces.
“You’re Princess Pugsley’s moms, right?” Danielle recognized them from Fur Haven. They were often there in the evenings when she and Knox had their training sessions with Sarge.
“I’m Kiki.” The taller one reached out to squeeze Danielle’s hand in greeting. “This is my wife, Paula.” The plumper woman gave Danielle a friendly smile. “And you’re the greyhound lady. Have you thought about offering regular training classes at Fur Haven? Lord knows our Princess could stand to learn a few manners.”
Danielle nod-bobbed, suddenly nervous again. “No, I hadn’t. I’m not really a dog trainer.”
“Could’ve fooled us. Talk to Riley or Sydney. We’ll be the first to sign up!” Kiki and Paula both looked so hopeful that all Danielle could do was smile weakly back at them.
“Come on, Danielle. There are a few more people to meet.” Carrie rescued her from having to commit on the spot to a community dog-training schedule, bringing her around full circle to end on the other side of Riley. “You know Riley’s Grams, right?”
Although Grams was Riley’s grandmother, most people called her Grams. Danielle h
ad been doing so for years, whenever Grams brought her cat to the clinic. Danielle rounded the table and kissed her cheek.
“Hello. Thank you for including me.” Her remark was for both Grams and Riley, who looked lovely in a floaty pink dress with straps so tiny she couldn’t possibly be wearing a bra. “I hardly recognize the lobby.”
Carrie beamed. “Thank you. It only took a few hours.”
Riley tugged at a balloon string floating overhead. “Don’t be modest. You’ve been planning for weeks.”
“It’s true. I have. And do we have some surprises in store for you.”
“I hope that means strippers. I haven’t seen a good stripper in years.” Grams sipped something bubbly from a clear, plastic cup. “They’re mostly gay, you know. That’s what I hear. But who cares? Eye candy is eye candy, am I right, ladies?”
Riley snatched the cup from her grandmother’s grasp. “I’m cutting you off, Grams. The guests aren’t even all here yet and look at you.”
“Give that ginger ale back, young lady. A little caffeine is good for my blood pressure.” She punctuated her claim by snatching her cup and finishing off the drink.
“You are impossible. Ginger ale doesn’t even have caffeine.” Riley stood, stretching her back. “Danielle, you must think we’re heathens. Can I get you a drink? Ginger ale, obviously, or a diet soda of some kind? I’m afraid the champagne hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Am I early?” Danielle fought the impulse to check her evite. She hadn’t wanted to be late, but she also didn’t want to be so early that she inconvenienced her hosts. On the other hand, half the seats scattered around the room at tables of various sizes were already filled.
“No, no, no.” Sydney’s voice rose above the chitchat filling the air. “It’s me. I’m late.”
“Always late,” Riley said fondly and gave Sydney a hug.
“My fairy godmother.” Danielle nod-bobbed, unable to stop the nervous gesture. “How’s Chewy?” she asked before Sydney opened the obvious conversational door of how the date had gone. Danielle wasn’t ready to discuss it, not until she and Knox had The Talk, and certainly not in front of all these people. Until then, was it so wrong to coast on their assumptions? To imagine she belonged?