by Lindsey Hart
“It’s there! It’s probably been camped out in my bed this whole time!”
I have one chance to be a hero here, so I ignore my throbbing jaw and stand up on the bed. I’ve never been overly fond of spiders, but it’s not like I mind them. I guess I’ve made my peace with insects over the years. I’d prefer not to handle them, but obviously, this needs to be done.
“Open the window,” I instruct. “Is there a screen?”
“Yes. I mean, no, not on the one over there.”
I don’t look to see where Lu-Anne is pointing. I don’t take my eyes off the spider. I’m sure he or she is looking at me too, wondering what kind of evil I have planned for it. I try to send off harmless vibes. No evil planned here, my friend. Just going to release you back to where you belong.
I realize, the second I have my hands closed around the spider who thankfully doesn’t move or drop down and make a run for it, that I can’t just throw it out the window. We’re high up. The bedroom is upstairs. What if it doesn’t survive the fall?
“Oh my god! Eww! Gross! You have it in your hands! Argh!” Lu-Anne shrieks in terror.
I do indeed have the poor thing trapped in my hands. It wiggles around when I lower them, doing some unpleasant sort of tickling. The hairs on my arms stand on end because yeah, I don’t really like it either, and it is kind of creepy, but I jump off the bed and thump down the stairs. Lu-Anne is right behind me, not wearing anything at all.
She throws open the patio door but stands behind the blinds and the door, trapping herself and keeping herself invisible to anyone who might be doing some fence peeping from the other side. I step out in my boxers, note there isn’t anyone around, put my hands down to the deck, and release the spider well away from the door. It would be entirely ironic if the thing made a turn and ran straight back into the house, but luckily, it doesn’t. It makes a break straight for the grass like it’s happy to be back in nature.
When I turn to go back into the house, the patio door is almost fully closed. I pull it open to find Lu-Anne standing in the kitchen. She’s wearing a frilly green apron with little lime wedges printed on it.
We stare at each other as I shut the door behind me. I don’t know if this is some kind of fantasy or my worst nightmare. Lu-Anne is gorgeous, and she’s standing there wearing nothing but a tiny apron. I know what’s underneath. I know what she tastes like. She’s like entering into a state of paradise that I never want to return from. She’s beautiful, flushed, and wide-eyed, her lips swollen from our kisses, her long hair all mussed from our tumble on her bed.
I don’t know whether she’s going to tell me to carry her back upstairs or to get my shit and leave.
I don’t press her. Instead, I leave the decision up to her. I didn’t plan on this. And this was as spontaneous as the kiss yesterday. Her shoulders dip as she takes a deep breath and releases it. Her eyes never leave mine.
It takes me by surprise when she bursts out laughing, but it’s contagious, and soon I’m busting a gut right along with her.
“Thanks,” she says, wiping her eyes as tears from all the laughter start forming. “I’m glad it finally got set free. I didn’t want to kill it, but I knew it would be too fast to trap, and I was too scared. I mean, I did kind of want to kill it, but not if I didn’t have to. I’m scared of spider death marks too.”
“Spider death marks?”
“You know. The splat. When you—”
“I see.” We awkwardly stand there for a few more minutes before I shrug my shoulders and indicate the door. “Should I go?”
“What? No!” Lu-Anne sweeps her hands over herself. “I’m wearing an apron right now with nothing on underneath, and you’re standing there in your man panties, and you want to go?”
“Man panties? I think boxers might be the better, less emasculating term.”
“Are you worried about being emasculated?”
I have to admit; I’m not. “The only thing I was worried about was getting a swift kick to the face.”
“Oh, no!” Lu-Anne’s cheeks flame up. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? Do you need ice? A steak?”
“I’m good. I just like teasing you.”
“Well,” Lu-Anne huffs, crossing her arms across her chest. “Would you also like to carry me back upstairs? Or turn around and go first. I won’t be able to live it down if you watch me go up. This apron doesn’t extend to the back.”
“I’ll be a gentleman and do whichever option makes you more comfortable. Although I must say, I’ve really liked everything I’ve seen so far.”
“Stop.” She saunters over and lightly smacks me on the shoulder, a playful expression on her face.
“I was only half kidding about that one. I really have liked everything I’ve seen.”
“Thanks,” she mutters. “I’ve liked everything I’ve seen on you too.”
“So, you’re sure you don’t want me to leave?”
“You’re sure you don’t need a steak for your jaw?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then,” she whispers, breaking into a soft smile. “I’d like you to carry me back up to my room and continue what we started.”
“That was just the start for you?”
“Wasn’t it just the start for you too?”
Lu-Anne lets out a little squeal as I scoop her up. She’s right about the apron not covering much, but I don’t comment on how good she feels in my arms because I don’t want to embarrass her. I just savor the silken feel of her thighs where I have one hand, and the smooth, softness of her back, where I have the other. She wraps her hands around my neck and leans in, so I get a whiff of her sweet-smelling hair. Let’s just say I take those stairs in a real hurry. I think, by the time I got Lu-Anne back onto her bed and that apron off her, I might have broken an actual record or maybe even surpassed the speed of light.
It’s been a good long time since I did anything that could be termed intimacy with another person. I want to take things slow, but the second our lips touch, the fire that consumed both of us before is back up and roaring. A gas can dumped onto the blaze style roaring.
“I want these off,” she moans against my mouth as her hands tug at the waistband of my boxers. I’m on top of her, doing the best I can to support myself with both arms, so I don’t crush her. Apparently, now that the spider danger has passed, the last thing on her mind is settling into a lackluster pace.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She nods hard.
“Do you have a condom?”
“Yeah. Top drawer of the nightstand. It’s been a while.” She turns her head to the side after she says that, and I kiss her chin by mistake. I wait for her to look back at me before I place a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose.
“I was just thinking the same thing. So I apologize if this performance doesn’t last as long as you’d like or expect it to. If you have more than one condom in that drawer, I promise I’m up for repeat performances, should you desire an encore.”
Lu-Anne giggles. “You’re kind of a funny one, aren’t you?”
“Funny ha-ha or just funny?”
She scrunches up her nose. “Maybe both?”
I’m about to think of something funny ha-ha to tease her with, some witty remark or a joke or something, but Lu-Anne’s hand dives beneath the waistband of my boxers and wraps around my throbbing erection, and pretty much all coherent thoughts fly out the window.
She strokes me confidently, running her hand down the length of me, over the tip, and back. I rock forward into her hand, roll my hips on instinct, and let out a low growl. I didn’t think anything could ever feel this good.
“I want this inside of me. Deep inside of me,” Lu-Anne whispers up at me.
It takes all my control not to come in her hand right as she says those words. Her hand keeps working me as if she knows just how I like to be touched. She skims her fingertip over the head, which is now leaking precum and making a wet stain against the fabric of my boxers.
“I
thought we could go slow. Take our time…”
“Slow?” She laughs. “I don’t want slow. I don’t need foreplay. I’m seriously ready, and if you wait any longer, I might have a serious combustion issue.”
“My apologies. I didn’t realize you were going to explode.”
“If I do, I’m going to take you down with me.”
“And this, after I rescued you from that killer spider?”
“Condoms. Nightstand. Drawer.”
Those are three words I actually do understand. Maybe Lu-Anne is right. I’m not sure I can take things slow and do any more foreplay, either. Even if I’m the one touching her, I might be the one exploding at the first taste of her.
I make quick work of finding the condoms and getting one on. When I turn back around, Lu-Anne eyes me up. One brow lifts a little.
“Jesus. I didn’t realize—I mean, I touched you, but—I—can you please go at a pace where you won’t destroy me with that?”
It takes a lot to embarrass me. I can’t remember the last time I even blushed. I’m pretty sure my face is currently on fire, so I duck and curl back onto the bed, stretching out over Lu-Anne’s beautiful, much smaller form.
I claim her lips hard, kissing her deep until we’re both lost in it. She wriggles against me, lifting and opening her hips and spreading her legs until I’m nestled between them. I slowly fit myself to her opening. She’s soaking wet, even wetter than when I had my mouth there.
She gasps against my lips as I slowly ease myself in. I make sure to take my time, so I don’t hurt her. God help me, she’s tight. She’s so tight and warm and so wet, and I can feel just about all of it even with the condom on. She rocks her hips against me, going anything but slowly until I’m fully seated inside of her.
If all the wriggling and grinding are any indication, Lu-Anne wants me to start moving, so I do. I slowly withdraw and push back in.
“More,” she pants. “More, god… Wade…”
That pretty much gets the pace going. That and Lu-Anne shifting to wrap her long, silky legs around my hips. She digs her heels into my ass. Hard. My jaw knows for a fact that she can do some real damage with those babies, so I comply with her silent demands.
She reaches up and wraps her hands around my neck, holding on tight as I brace myself with my arms at either side of her face. I have to close my eyes and concentrate even though I’d much rather watch the pleasure play over her face. Although, if she opened her eyes and caught me staring at her, maybe she’d think it was creepy.
I can feel her body trembling below me. Her nails dig into my shoulders when I pick up the pace, and her hot breath puffs out against my ear. All I can think about is how good she feels and how she needs to come first because despite what I said about being good for round two all the way up to twenty—which I know I am—I seriously want to satisfy her first.
Her body bucks below me, and I just hope—as I start thrusting hard enough to make the brass headboard, which I didn’t even realize was brass before because no, I wasn’t paying attention to headboards or anything else when I brought Lu-Anne back into her room or when I was in here the first time, smack against the wall—I can hold out long enough.
I set a pretty furious pace, but Lu-Anne keeps up, grinding and rocking, arching and moaning, right in time with me. She’s a perfect fit. This wild, spider fearing, breaking and entering, imaginative, slightly crazy in a good way woman. She’s my perfect fit.
That thought just about scares me badly enough that I freeze up, but Lu-Anne digs her heels into my ass a little harder, arches until her breasts slam into my chest, throws back her head, and comes. Her nails rake over my shoulders lightly as she rides out the waves. Amazing waves. Strong waves. Waves that I can feel clenching around my cock as I continue to move inside of her.
I lose control, or rather, I surrender right after she does. I surrender to her because she’s magnificent. Because there’s no way that I could possibly hope to stay sane. Because she’s incredible and amazing, and I’ve never had a fit like this in my life, and I’m not just talking about how our bodies move together.
After I come down from my high, and so I don’t crush her when I doubt I can hold myself up any longer, I flop down beside her as gracefully as I can, which isn’t very graceful at all. I pull Lu-Anne into my arms, and she comes to me willingly. She doesn’t fight me off, tell me I’m sticky or smelly or that she doesn’t do cuddling. She rests her head on my chest and runs gentle circles over my ink with her index finger while I catch my breath.
And try and figure out what the devil is happening to me. I feel funny. Right in my chest.
No, I’m not having a heart attack. At least, I don’t think so.
“That was nice,” Lu-Anne says a few minutes later. “Thank you. And thank you for getting rid of the spider for me.”
“You’re welcome.” I lay my hand on her luxurious hair and stoke the soft tresses gently. “For both.”
When she shifts and grins up at me, my heart slams so violently that for a second, I worry I might actually be experiencing cardiac arrest. She winks at me. I can’t remember the last time anyone winked at me. At least like she’s doing.
“Is it too soon to ask if you are—uh—if you will be willing to join me in the shower?”
Yup. Cardiac arrest it is. Suddenly, all the air rushes out of my lungs. Too soon physically or otherwise? At this point, I decide that’s not the kind of question I should be asking. I file that away under the category of appropriate talks to have months from now, and somehow manage to wink back at her.
“I’d race you there, but I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m pretty competitive when it counts.”
Lu-Anne tears out of bed faster than I thought humanly possible, and she goes streaking across the bedroom. Her feet echo through the hall, and a few feet away, a door slams. I lay there, staring up at the now spider-less ceiling, grinning like an idiot.
CHAPTER 16
Lu-Anne
“Yay, you’re alive!” My expression of joy is completely genuine, so it lets me get away with the sarcastic statement I drop as soon as Leanne walks in the door. It’s only been, like, weeks since I’ve seen my best friend.
Leanne shoves a bottle of white wine into my hands. She looks amazing in a black maxi dress. Her long hair is done up effortlessly into a messy bun I could never pull off, but on her, it looks fabulous. As usual, her makeup is insanely on point, and I’m immediately jealous—friendly jealousy. There’s a difference.
Leanne flops down on the couch immediately, like she’s exhausted. It’s not late enough for her to be exhausted, though. It’s barely even dark.
“That bad?” I pour and shove one of the glasses of wine into her hands. She takes it gratefully and sighs dramatically the way only she can.
“No, it’s not that bad. I’ve just had a lot going on. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ghost you.” Leanne’s eyes sweep to the camera screen in the corner of the room. “You still have those up? Are you spying on the guy now?”
I quickly look down so that Leanne can’t read my expression, but it doesn’t work. Her jaw is gaping open when I turn back around. If the spider still lived in here, it would probably crawl right into her mouth and live there like a nice, warm, cozy cave.
Right. So, I’m probably a huge open book at the moment when I think about the night Wade and I shared. But it wasn’t just the night. When I woke up the next morning, he was down in the kitchen making pancakes for me. Pancakes. In my own kitchen. In my own house. We may have eaten the pancakes to reenergize, and we may have made out in the kitchen, and that may have escalated to us doing some naughtier things on the kitchen counter, which may have led to us going back upstairs and spending the rest of the morning in my bed.
Not that I want Leanne to know all that. Apparently, I’m failing on that score big time because she lets out a squeal that tells me the game is up, and I’ve been found out.
“No! You didn’t!”
“Didn’t
what?”
“Sleep with him!”
“We just made out.” I sit down hard enough beside Leanne to make the wine in my glass slosh almost right over the side.
“Made out? You?”
“What? Is that such a shocking concept that I, too, can see some action?”
“No.” Leanne grins. “I’m just surprised although I shouldn’t be. You were obviously interested in the guy. You had a crazy obsession. Crazy and obsession both being the keywords here.”
“Shut up and tell me about the guy from the library,” I sulk.
“Oh, that.” Leanne has this talent for hiding what’s really going on with her, even from me. I’m a little envious of it at the moment. I wish she couldn’t read me like all those history books she no doubt devours because she’s insanely smart.
“Yes, that. What happened? Did you sleep with him?”
“It was just studying and writing papers together. We’re in the same class. Don’t shit where you eat.”
“I think it’s shit where you sleep.”
“Whatever. Both are unsanitary. I know the guy. He’s alright. It’s easier to get things accomplished if you can divide and conquer. We were doing some research together since we’re writing papers on similar topics.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Is he hot?”
“No. Not really.”
“Why? He’s not old enough for you?”
Leanne rolls her eyes. “Shut up. That’s hardly fair.”
“So, you’re still holding a torch for the professor guy?”
“Stop.”
“When you said you’d tell me everything, I thought there was something juicy to tell.”
Leanne sips her wine. “Nope. Sorry. I did tell you everything, which is a heck of a lot of nothing. My professor is still oblivious to me. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe you’re right about it being a bad idea. I don’t want to get kicked out of doing my Masters.”
“That’s probably a smart idea. Not getting involved.”
“What about you? You seem to be involved.”