The Mission (Bad Bridesmaids Book 2)

by Noelle Adams

  Serena’s breath hitched. “I... I... Well, thank you.” She didn’t dare risk a glance up at his face right now. She stared down at the flowers.

  He reached out and gently brushed a wave of her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Her skin tingled from the light touch.

  It felt so good that it prompted a flare of fear. Her first instinct was to pull away, tell him to stop. But he’d been wonderful to them this evening, and he’d seemed happy. She didn’t want to do anything that would change that, shift the mood, ruin the magic.

  After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t be doing. Even his touch had been casual, insignificant. And she might be misinterpreting what was shuddering in the air between them.

  So she didn’t say anything. She didn’t pull away. But she also didn’t turn toward him or reach out the way she half wanted to.

  Things were safer if they were left unsaid. They might not even be real.

  Tonight had been so good. Almost perfect. And she wasn’t going to let her fear disrupt that or leave it with a bad feeling.

  For just a moment, she leaned toward the flowers, inhaling the scent of them deeply. The tulips smelled faintly, but the peonies beside them were particularly fragrant. And smelling them gave her something else to think about.

  “Thank you again, Keith,” she said, straightening up and turning to face him.

  “That’s enough thank-yous for tonight. I did it for me as much as you and Eva.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that, but I won’t argue. I’d offer you something to drink, but after all that ice cream, I’m not sure my stomach can hold anything else.”

  His expression was still warm, fond, strangely knowing. Like he had a secret that she wasn’t yet aware of. He reached out to pull her into a soft hug, his lean body deliciously hard and hot and strong.

  It went on just long enough for Serena to start feeling tingly again. Then he pulled away and headed for the door.

  She was still standing by the island, frozen with an avalanche of feelings, when he gave her one last smile over his shoulder. “Sleep well,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Serena mumbled something in response.

  But she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to sleep again.

  KEITH GOT HOME AT JUST before six in the evening the following Friday, just as he always did.

  He glanced over at Serena’s door as he unlocked his, but there was no motion or sound. Just the welcome mat and the pretty wreath of dried hydrangeas that she and Eva had made last month and hung on their door.

  He closed the door harder than entirely necessary as he walked inside. Not out of any irritation. Just on the off chance Serena might hear and know he was home.

  Every day this week, she’d come over at least once in the evenings. Twice to ask for help with things around the house, once to borrow his stepladder, and once to see if he wanted to have dinner with her and Eva. Since they were good friends and neighbors, they stopped at each other’s places regularly, but this was more frequent than normal.

  It might just be a coincidence, but he was hoping it wasn’t.

  So if she knew he was home, maybe she’d come over again.

  Eva was with her father this weekend, so Serena would be alone. Keith hadn’t made plans. On purpose.

  Maybe he was a deluded fool... but maybe he wasn’t.

  Fridays were casual in his office, so he was wearing jeans and a black henley. He saw no reason to change clothes, and she’d notice and wonder why if he took a shower. So he just toed off his shoes and shuffled through his mail, wondering what she was doing next door.

  If she didn’t make an appearance soon, he’d have to go over there himself. Surely he could think of some sort of excuse. He was a terrible liar, so the reason would have to be mostly true. Unfortunately, blurting out that he was desperate to see her and wanted to spend the evening with her was likely to scare her away.

  He was brooding over this sad state of affairs when he heard a noise. It was faint but sounded like her front door closing.

  He stood frozen, straining to listen, for a few seconds until a knock sounded at his door. It was exactly what he’d been hoping for, but it made him jump anyway.

  Recovering, he strode over and opened to see her standing in the hallway. She looked soft and gorgeous in a dark green top with a tantalizing dip at the neckline. She was carrying a covered plate.

  “I made brownies,” she said, flashing the slightest bit of dimple that only appeared next to her mouth occasionally. “You want some?”

  “Of course I want some!” He stepped out of the way. “Why did you bake?”

  “Why shouldn’t I bake?”

  “Well, you usually only bake when you’re anxious about something. Not that I’m complaining. But if you’re anxious, I’d like to know why.”

  “I’m not anxious.” She frowned at him, putting the plate on his breakfast bar. “Just restless or something. I felt like baking.”

  “All the better for me then.” He thought quickly back to his (preplanned) casual and spontaneous invitation. “I got some fresh salmon from the store yesterday. You want to stay for dinner?” After a pause of no more than two seconds, he added, “Eva’s with her dad this weekend, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. She is. It’s very lonely over there, so yes, I’d be happy to stay.” She lifted herself up onto a barstool, and he tried not to notice how the lush curves of her ass slid against the black leather. “So you don’t have a date tonight?”

  “No. I don’t have a date.”

  “Why not?”

  He’d been getting the salmon and some vegetables out of the refrigerator, but he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Because I didn’t want to have a date tonight. I’ve had plenty of dates this month. Do I need a date every weekend?”

  “No. But a lot of times you do. And you didn’t go out with anyone last weekend either. I need to find you another girl to go out with. I’ve definitely fallen down on my job.”

  He’d hoped she had let her mission drop since she hadn’t mentioned it at all for the past week. But evidently not. “I’m doing fine without you fixing me up all the time.”

  “Maybe. But you could do better.”

  “How could I do better?”

  “You could find someone to love.” She didn’t appear as excited as she had a month ago when she’d come up with this idea. In fact, she looked tired. Resigned. So that was something at least.

  “I’ve got people to love.”

  “I mean—”

  “I know what you mean.” He sounded a little annoyed, but he couldn’t help it. He distracted himself by hunting in the refrigerator for a necessary (fictional) item for the meal.

  “I don’t mean to be annoying. I’m trying to help. If you want me to stop, I will.”

  Keith sighed and closed the refrigerator, having failed to find his imaginary ingredient. He turned around and leaned on his forearms on the bar. “If you know someone you really want to set me up with, I’ll do it. But you don’t need to be beating the bushes to dig someone up like I’m a desperate case. I’m doing fine. Just like you.”

  She leaned her head on her hand, her eyes on his face. “I know you are. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it’s an emergency or something. I just felt bad because I told you I’d find someone and then I sort of dropped the ball.”

  “I’m good with letting it drop.”

  “I’m not. I’ll think about it. But I’ll only fix you up with someone if I really think it’s a good match.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Can I help you chop something?” She gestured toward the pile of zucchini, peppers, mushrooms, and tomatoes he’d pulled out with the salmon.

  “Sure.” He handed her the zucchini and mushrooms and a knife. “Bite-size pieces. Whatever’s easiest.”

  Together, they worked on dinner until they’d prepared the salmon with an Italian orzo salad. Keith was normally a
decent cook, but he was pleased that the food had turned out particularly good tonight.

  They ate it at the bar with some chardonnay, and the conversation shifted to better topics. Work. Eva. The book on the Brooklyn Bridge Keith had finally finished. He had a good time, and Serena appeared to as well. She was flushed and smiling as he suggested they find a movie to watch.

  They spent some time browsing the streaming networks he subscribed to and finally decided on an old romantic comedy that Serena loved and Keith didn’t mind too much.

  He would have let her watch anything she wanted, but she knew too well his own tastes, so she immediately discounted anything that he disliked.

  They watched the movie and ate a couple of the brownies she’d brought over, and Serena sat closer to him on the couch than was entirely necessary.

  Just not close enough.

  Any move he made to get her closer would be immediately suspect, and he didn’t want to ruin a good evening by spooking her. So he contented himself with the fruity smell of her hair and the feel of the couch shifting every time she adjusted position.

  When the movie was over, Serena didn’t move. She didn’t get up, ready to leave the way she normally did after they finished watching something.

  He’d poured the last chardonnay after they’d eaten the brownies, and his blood started pulsing intensely when she swirled the little bit of wine left in her glass. The room felt strangely silent now that the movie had ended.

  She shot him a glance after a minute. “Heard anything from your family?”

  He hadn’t been expecting that question. In truth, he had no idea what he might have expected. But he didn’t mind telling her the truth about even the most personal aspects of his life. So he replied, “No. I still call once a week even though I’m mostly just talking to their voice mail. My mom will usually text a couple of times a month. Just to verify we’re all still alive, I think. But otherwise nothing.” His tone was matter-of-fact. He’d resigned himself years ago to never being close to his family. It was an old ache. Familiar.

  She reached out to put a sympathetic hand on his thigh, the touch branding him even through the denim of his jeans. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. He definitely didn’t want her feeling sorry for him, although he appreciated her obvious care for him. “Don’t be. It is what it is. They’re never going to forgive me for not staying in their social circle and living off their money, and that’s one decision I’ll never regret.”

  “Well, it’s still hard to have a family like that.” She made a face. “Sometimes I want to give them all a big smack in the head.”

  He chuckled and reached out to squeeze her hand, which was still resting on this thigh. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I wouldn’t recommend it. They can do their thing. I’ll do mine. All of us are fine.”

  “You should be better than fine.” She hadn’t yet pulled her hand out of his grip. She stroked his knuckles with her other hand. “They should know how lucky they are to have you in their life.”

  “They don’t want me in their life. But thanks for the pep talk anyway.”

  “It’s not a pep talk. It’s true. You’re amazing, Keith. You’ve always been amazing. And anyone who doesn’t realize how amazing you are is just... just...” She was staring down at their clasped hands.

  “Just what?” he asked, genuinely curious and also ridiculously touched by her faith in him.

  “Just clueless.” The words came out as almost a whisper.

  His breath had turned ragged, although he was trying to control it so she wouldn’t hear. He couldn’t resist the temptation to push back some of the hair that was hiding her face. He tucked it behind her ear and murmured, “Does that include you?”

  “I’m not clueless.” She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “I know how amazing you are.”

  “Do you?” he asked thickly.

  He was right on the cusp of action. He could feel himself teetering on the edge. One more step and he’d be over the line. No going back.

  “Yes. Of course I do. You think I don’t?” Her hazel eyes were so deep and full he could drown in them.

  Her hair had fallen back over her shoulder, so he brushed it back again. Then his hand lingered on the side of her face. “I think we’re all clueless sometimes.”

  “Keith?” The lift in her tone made the word a question. Her hand was shaking in his grip.

  He stepped over the line. Irrevocably. He used his free hand to cup her face and leaned forward into a kiss.

  Just a light one. Gentle. A brush of her lips with his.

  He heard her suck in a breath, and for a moment thought she’d pull back. But she didn’t. She grabbed for his shoulder and leaned toward him, deepening the kiss before he could.

  The rush of joy and satisfaction and pleasure that erupted inside him was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He moved his mouth against hers more urgently, sliding his hand to the back of her head to hold her in place.

  They were still holding hands, which was nice, but it was also inconvenient. He needed two hands to kiss her properly. So he finally released hers and spanned the side of her neck with his freed hand.

  “Keith,” she gasped against his mouth. It sounded like a spontaneous exclamation. Not a question or an attempt to get his attention. So he made a wordless grunt of response and kept kissing her, his whole body tightening from the exquisite pleasure of it.

  She was saying his name. Thinking about him. Kissing him and no one else.

  She was sweet and soft and eager, and they were briefly awkward on the couch as she tried to move closer to him. He solved that problem by pulling her over onto his lap so her legs were straddling his hips and her body fit deliciously snug against his.

  She seemed to like this position. She moaned into the kiss and started to make little wiggles against his groin.

  He was fully aroused now. Embarrassingly fast. But since she was just as into the embrace, he decided it wasn’t a problem.

  His hands lowered to span her ribs over the soft fabric of her top. The kiss broke with his move, but he didn’t let that slow him down. He kissed his way down the side of her neck until he found her throbbing pulse.

  She dropped her head backward and let out the sexiest moan he’d ever heard.

  His hands weren’t behaving. They’d moved up toward her breasts. They were soft and heavy and full in his palms. She gave a sharp gasp and clutched at his shoulders.

  “Is this okay, Serena?” he managed to ask.

  “Don’t...”

  He froze.

  “Don’t stop.”

  With a rush of relief, he let himself fondle her breasts over her shirt, learning the shape of them, the texture, the peak of her nipples. Soon she was so turned on she was rubbing herself shamelessly against him and making erotic little whimpers.

  She needed to come. He could feel how urgent the need was in the tension of her body. In the wildness of her eyes. He wanted to bring her to orgasm. To give her that kind of pleasure and satisfaction.

  “Keith,” she gasped, arching her back wantonly in his lap. “Keith, please. Please!”

  “Can I touch you?”

  He was already touching her, but she evidently knew what he meant. “Yes. Yes please.”

  With a groan of something deep and primal, he slid his hands under the waistband of her stretchy yoga pants until he’d found where she was hot and wet. She lifted up to give him better access, and it wasn’t long before he’d gotten to her clit.

  She gave a helpless sob as he rubbed her off, and in almost no time at all she came to a trembling orgasm that sounded like it surprised her.

  He didn’t want it to be over yet, so he readjusted her on his lap so he could pump two fingers inside her before she’d even come down. He fucked her with his fingers—and her hips moved eagerly, trying to ride them—until she came again, this time biting her lip in an attempt to stifle her cries.

  She collapsed in his arms when she stopped
shaking, and he rubbed her clit slowly. She made a purring sound as she leaned her head against him. “Keith.”

  “Yes?”

  “You keep doing that and I’m going to come again.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “I don’t know. It feels kind of selfish. To come that many times when you haven’t come at all.”

  “It’s not selfish if I want to do it.” He nuzzled the side of her head and rubbed her off until she came one more time in a quick little climax and release.

  He couldn’t believe she was so responsive to him. That she came for him so easily. It filled him with a heady sort of pride that surely wasn’t good for a man.

  He held her in his arms for several minutes as she relaxed, ignoring the drive of his own arousal. He wasn’t sure what she wanted to do now, and he didn’t want to put any pressure on her.

  He was thinking about asking when her hands started to move. She undid the front of his jeans and drew them down with his underwear until she’d freed his erection.

  “Serena,” he rasped.

  “Fair’s fair,” she said with a little smile. Then she started to pump him with her hands.

  Normally he was pretty good at sex. At least, he got a lot of compliments and women seemed to appreciate him afterward. But he was at his limit here—tonight—and he didn’t have anything like his normal control.

  It took less than a minute for him to come with a rough sound, her little hands squeezing him exactly right.

  He came in several spurts onto her shirt and collapsed against the couch, sated and spent.

  She giggled and reached for a napkin he’d brought with the brownies but they’d never used. “I guess I should have gotten the napkin earlier. I’m kind of out of practice.”

  “You’re not out of practice. You’re perfect.”

  She snorted, but after she’d cleaned them up, she wrapped her arms around him, and they hugged for a minute in silence.

  Then finally she whispered against his ear, “You’re perfect too.”

  five

  SERENA ENJOYED THE afterglow for a few minutes, sprawled over Keith’s lap.