by Tina Beckett
“Yes?” Her breath caught in her throat.
He took a step closer. “I think I’m about to do something incredibly stupid.”
“I doubt that.” And if the look on his face was any indication, she was in complete agreement.
“Just how drunk are you?”
“Am I acting like I am? I didn’t even drink the whole beer. I’m just so glad to be out here tonight...” She hesitated, then decided to just say it. “With you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
In a second, he had closed the gap between them, his right hand encircling her wrist and tugging her to him.
And when his head came down, she knew the kiss was coming. Only this time, it would be different than the previous one. Very, very different.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ADDY’S HOUSE WAS the closest, and the second she unlocked the door, they were through it, the passion that had ignited on the beach still burning just as strong after the ten-minute drive—which had seemed to take forever. The only saving grace were the kisses that punctuated the stoplights along the way.
Somehow he managed to close the front door and then his mouth found hers again. The taste of beer still clung to her lips along with whatever it was that made Addy, Addy.
She was intoxicating. Breathtaking. More heady than any alcohol known to man. And tonight, he planned to drink his fill. It seemed as if the last couple of weeks had been leading to this very place, and, right now, Garret couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.
Her arms twined around his neck, body flattening to his, and, heaven help him, his libido was already roaring at him to pick up the pace.
No way. No how.
If they ended up in bed—and he hoped to hell they did—he wanted this to last for as long as possible.
He’d told himself to stay away from her after that surfing lesson, but they were both adults. This didn’t have to go any further than one night of wild sex. If she was using him to drown out the pain of losing her mom, even better. Neither one of them needed a permanent relationship. She was in the midst of getting a divorce and he was in the throes of...
He had no idea. All he knew was he wasn’t getting married again. Or having kids.
His good hand slid beneath the back of her shirt, the warmth and softness of her skin making something growl to life inside him. No, it wasn’t just growling to life. It was already wide awake and howling for attention.
Addy’s palms cupped the back of his head, one on either side of his neck. She leaned back slightly as her lips left his.
“Where?”
He knew exactly what she was asking.
“Babe, it’s your house. You choose.”
The endearment had dropped from his tongue without warning, and he tensed for a second. But if she minded, he couldn’t tell. Right now, her thumbs were drawing designs in his hair that were getting to him in all the right places.
She glanced toward the back of the house and her teeth came down on her lower lip as if puzzling through something or other. “How about the couch? It’s long and... It’s long.”
“It can be the floor, for all I care.”
She leaned up and whispered in his ear, her warm breath slicing and dicing his control. “The floor would be much too uncomfortable.”
“The couch it is, then.”
Her hands slid down his back, fingers tucking into the waistband of his pants, sending another jolt of need through him.
He took a long, slow drink of her mouth, before murmuring, “Lead the way.”
Taking him by the hand, she tugged him through a door that opened to the dining room, a big round table giving him some definite ideas, before she ducked through yet another doorway.
The living room.
And she was right. The couch was long. And it went in two directions, forming an L. It was perfect.
Just as she was.
His index finger touched her bottom lip then glided over her chin and slid over her throat, reaching the rounded neckline of her stretchy top.
God, he wished he had a second hand. Or at least one that worked. He didn’t try to unbutton the front; instead he let his palm wander down, bumping over her breast, hearing her hiss of air as he did. “Will this go over your head?”
She didn’t ask what he meant, just took the initiative and made short work of the buttons. “They can be tricky.”
They weren’t, but he blessed her for sparing him the ordeal of having to fumble with them. He could do it, he did up his own shirts daily, but it took a while. Doing it for someone else would embarrass him somehow, even though it was a ridiculous feeling. And nowadays, he tended to wear polos instead of shirts with a long line of buttons unless it was a special occasion.
She let her blouse drop to the ground and stood there in her skirt and a very lacy white bra that played peekaboo with his gaze. For a few seconds he couldn’t do anything other than stare.
“You’re beautiful, Addy.”
She smiled. “You’re pretty nice yourself.” Moving forward, she kissed the bottom of his throat, her tongue swirling in the spot at the base of it. Then she reached behind him and balled up the bottom of his shirt and tugged it out of his pants and tried to pull it over his head. He bent forward slightly to help her. Then it was on the ground beside hers.
With one arm around her waist, he walked her backward until her legs met the couch. She sat and kicked her shoes off, then lay back. He followed her down, sliding up her body, using his elbows and hands to support his torso. “You’re right. Comfortable couch. I approve.”
“Yes, it is.” She leaned up to lick along his lower lip. “And it’s still a virgin.”
He blinked for a second before smiling. “You and your—?”
“No. Never.”
“Ah...in that case.” His good hand slid behind her back and felt for the clasp on her bra. Found it. Snapped it open and then pulled the lacy item off from the front. He tossed it over the side of the couch.
He swallowed, awed and a little uncertain with how this was going to work. He hadn’t been with a woman since his divorce.
Oh, he knew the mechanics, and that he could get there, but he wanted more than that. He wanted her to enjoy it. Wanted to take her to heights she’d never reached before.
Only he wasn’t sure he could.
As if she sensed his doubts, she ran her hands up his back and tickled behind his ear. “Roll over, Garret.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
She half hefted him when he didn’t move fast enough, but then he was on his back, with her half sprawled across him. Tucking her skirt up around her upper thighs, she sat up and straddled his hips. And there was no way she could miss his reaction to her. Not quite the way he’d envisioned this going, but he appreciated her removing some of the worry more than she could know.
“So, now that I’ve lured you into my lair,” she whispered, “what should I do with you?”
She had a skirt on. No buttons. No zipper. That was a good start. As were those creamy breasts that jiggled with every move she made.
“You should lean down here so I can kiss you.”
Right on cue, she curved her torso forward, only he didn’t kiss her mouth. Lowering his head, he sought out the curve of her breast, using his hand to cup it and help him reach. And reach he did. When his tongue stroked across her nipple she whimpered, back arching into him.
He took that as a sign and settled in to enjoy.
She planted her hands on his shoulders and balanced, her hips pressing down and hitting him in just the right spot.
It was ecstasy. And torture.
Time to somehow get that condom he carried out of his wallet. He’d kept one there, but had never used it. And right now he wasn’t sure how he was going to get it on. One-handed it w
ould have to be.
Letting go of her, he shoved his hand under himself and found his back pocket and the wallet in it. He grappled it out and flipped it open. Most of the time, he laid it on a counter and pulled whatever he needed from it, but right now, he was upside down and had no flat surface in sight. And there was no way he was going to hold it in his teeth.
Without hesitation, Addy took it from him. “Where?”
“There’s a compartment in the side of—”
“Found it.” She fiddled with the opening and then pulled the packet out and got to her feet. “You take care of what you need to, and I’ll take care of what I need to.” She set the wallet on an end table and laid the condom on his stomach. Then she reached under her skirt and down came her panties.
Garret’s heart began pumping out obscenities in his chest. The very best kind.
Right. He was supposed to be doing something. He undid his button and zipper and pushed his pants and briefs down his hips. His shoes were already gone, so Addy tugged his socks free one by one. Then she took hold of his trousers and pulled them the rest of the way off along with his underwear until he was bare before her.
She licked her lips, taking the condom package and ripping it open.
“I can do it.”
“Okay.” She handed it to him and watched him roll it down his length, her eyes focused on the act.
So much for taking his time. He wanted her. Badly. And he knew himself well enough to realize he wasn’t going to last. “Come here.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Straddling him once again, she cupped his face and kissed him, the contact sweet and hot and everything in between. “Mmm, hurry.”
“Hell, I don’t want to—”
“It’s okay. It’ll be good. I’ve wanted this.”
She had? Well, so had he. More than he cared to admit.
Grasping a hold of himself, he brushed over her, gently, feeling his way. Any ideas he might have had about entering her slowly went to hell. The second he was in position she took his entire length with one hard push.
He swore. And prayed. Broke out in a cold sweat as he willed himself to hold very, very still.
She moved, but when he tried to stop her, she ignored him.
Taking his hand, she pressed it to her. “Go, Garret. Oh, go!”
Finding her, he stroked and squeezed while she rode him, her head thrown back, hair tumbling loose around her shoulders. She moaned, lips parted as she held herself steady with one hand on the back of the couch and continued to rise and fall.
And then he felt it. Boiling up inside him in an uncontrollable tide. He gritted his teeth as it poured over him, aware on some level that she was climaxing as well, her body contracting around his and urging him to lose himself inside her.
Minutes passed. His eyes had closed at some point. And she’d stopped moving. He reached up and curved an arm around her back, hauling her down to him, kissing her bare shoulder.
“That was...”
Her breath came out in a long hum of sound. “Yes, it was.”
She settled against him, nuzzling closer to his chest, head turned sideways. Her hair tickled his chin, but he didn’t care. A slow contentment began to weave its way through him. He didn’t want her to get up. Didn’t want to ever move off this couch.
But maybe she wanted him out, now that it was over.
When his hand moved, though, she murmured, “No. Stay. Please.”
He was pretty sure that tomorrow he was going to feel differently about spending the night, but right now...? Right now he was perfectly happy to stuff any and all doubts about what they’d done out of sight and worry about them later. Because he was going to do exactly what she asked. He was going to stay with her. All night long.
* * *
Addy covered him with the sheet she’d taken from the linen closet. He didn’t stir. Waking up and seeing his face all soft with sleep, that injured hand for once out in plain sight... She gulped as a wave of longing swept over her.
When he’d asked where she wanted to make love, she’d frozen for a second or two. She hadn’t wanted to go to her bed, didn’t sleep in it herself, much less want to spend the night there with another man. She’d been meaning to toss it out and get a new one, but she just hadn’t had the time to go and look for one.
The couch had seemed like the perfect spot.
And it had been. It still was. He looked gorgeous parked there, his clothes now neatly folded over one of the arms.
His insecurities over how to proceed had been obvious and had touched her deeply. There had been no need to worry, however. It had been fantastic. Better than she could have imagined.
She shivered, realizing she wanted him all over again.
Lord, it probably shouldn’t have happened.
She’d slept with him for all the wrong reasons: the Alzheimer’s patient had set off a fresh round of grief about losing her mom. She hadn’t wanted to be alone.
She was having a hard time caring about the should-not-haves. They were adults. And it was good sex. Very good sex, since she was standing there contemplating waking him up for some more of the same. People here did things like this all the time and never thought a thing of it.
Easy to think that now. But what she’d do when he actually got up, she had no idea.
For now, she could go cook some breakfast.
She heated the skillet and then cracked some eggs, flipping them with a flick of her wrist a few minutes later. Between that and the smell of the bacon she’d started in another pan, she had to admit, she was famished.
Hopefully when he woke up it wouldn’t turn all awkward and complicated.
Why wouldn’t it?
She’d been issuing orders right and left last night. “Roll over. Hurry.”
Yikes. She’d never realized she had the heart of a drill sergeant. She didn’t. She’d simply been trying to ease the way for him, never stopping to think that maybe he would find that uncomfortable.
He would have said something if it was. Wouldn’t he?
Her own doubts began crowding in, making her second-guess everything she’d done.
“No fair.”
She whirled around and found him with his pants back on his hips, the zipper still undone. And his briefs? Nowhere to be seen that she could tell.
“What do you mean?”
He took several steps into the room. “You’re up. And dressed.”
She’d had that same thought a few minutes earlier.
“Shouldn’t I be? It’s six o’clock.”
“On Saturday. Do you work one of the shifts today?”
“Not until noon.” She grinned, turning off the burner controls. “But I have something I need to do this morning.”
He grabbed her around the waist and yanked her to him. “So do I.” His head was just lowering to kiss her when a piece of bacon made a loud popping sound.
They laughed. And broke apart so she could turn off the other burner.
“What was it you had to do?” he asked as he stood behind her, watching.
She hesitated. “I want to put flowers on my mom’s grave for her birthday. She loved daisies, and I think she would like knowing someone thought about her today.” A rush of tears formed, and she struggled to push them back. “I hope she knew how much my dad and I loved her.”
“Daisies.” Something about his voice made her swipe at her eyes and then whirl around to look at him. What she saw shocked her.
He had his good hand braced on the countertop, holding himself upright, while a muscle worked in his jaw. Tight lines radiated out from his eyes.
He looked like a man in agony.
“What is it? Your hand?” Her glance went down to his side, where his injured fingers were curled in their normal position.
“No. It’s not my han
d.” He stopped, then shook his head. “I should go.”
He pulled up his zipper and fumbled with the button on his pants.
And just like that, the mood was gone. No more fuzzy feelings. No more playful words.
Just Garret’s face, which looked—blank.
He’d seemed fine a few minutes ago. Maybe the pop of the bacon had jerked him back to his senses.
Ugh. What was she thinking, begging him to stay until morning and then tucking him in and cooking him a cozy breakfast?
They weren’t friends. Or really even colleagues.
He probably thought she was a complete idiot. God, how stupid could she be?
It didn’t stop her from trying to salvage the situation, though. “Do you want something to eat before you go?”
“No, I’ll grab a bite a little later. Thanks, though.” He went into the other room and when he came back he was completely dressed, including his socks and shoes.
“I guess I’ll see you at work on Monday.”
“Yes.” He walked to the door, leaving her to follow him. “And, Addy?”
“Yes?” Why did she suddenly feel as if she could burst into tears at any minute?
“I’m sure your mom knew you loved her very much.”
And with those quiet words, he let himself out of the door and closed it with a quiet click.
* * *
He’d signed the divorce papers. She’d tossed the packet on her console by the door. The day of their argument in front of the ER, he’d said he wanted to do divorce counseling before signing anything. She’d been flabbergasted. He had cheated on her. Was now living with his girlfriend. And he was worried about an amicable split?
He’d evidently changed his mind about the counseling. The thick envelope from his lawyer had been in her mailbox when she’d come home from work last night.
A week had passed since she’d placed flowers on her mom’s grave, since Garret had walked away from her house after uttering a line that had made her sink to the ground and cry the second the door had closed behind him.
