Beware of Doug

by Elaine Fox

  One of Brady’s hands reached behind her and flicked her bra open, easy as if he’d flicked a fly off the wall. She laughed and dropped the garment on the floor between them.

  Once she had his fly open, she pushed the flaps wide, then, slowly, placed her hands on his hips and pushed his jeans and boxers, along with her pan ties, down, down, down until they reached the floor.

  She rose, running one hand up his hardness as she did. He stepped out of the puddle of clothing, and they were naked together.

  Lily stepped close and sighed as skin touched skin for the first time. Her breasts against his chest, his legs against hers, the soft, hard, private, shared desire pressed between them, generating a heat that grew exponentially with each second.

  Brady kissed her again, and Lily felt the length of her body become his. She was fluid and soft, yet relentless. There was no stopping her now, his body was hers. She took him by the hand and led him to the bed.

  She leaned back, he knelt forward, and they were kissing again. He pressed her into the bedclothes, his body atop hers, his fingers probing the apex of her thighs. She opened to him, clutching his back, wrapping her legs around his thighs.

  Brady rose up on his arms and looked down at her. His muscles flexed, his chest hardened, and she ran her hands across it.

  “Lily,” he said, and she knew the question in the word.

  She nodded, and reached between his legs, cupping his desire, feeling it throb in her hand. He inhaled sharply as her hand stroked its length, and she guided him to her center.

  His hips pushed forward, urging himself toward her. He pressed gently, once, twice. She held him tightly and raised her hips, feeling herself open in near anxiety, so eager for his penetration.

  He touched her again, moving his hips, and ran his tongue down the side of her neck.

  She groaned, wanting—needing—him inside of her. Her hips pressed upward, but he backed away slightly, touching her, moving just slightly inside, teasing her.

  “Brady,” she breathed, pulling at his hips with both hands.

  As if his spoken name released him, he dove inside of her, filling her, making her gasp with surprise and sudden gratification.

  He was not gentle then. He entered her swiftly, strongly, again and again. No more were the kisses soft, the tongue tickling and teasing down her neck. His body pounded into hers, and she answered his every thrust. His mouth found hers and they went after each other ravenously, hungry for the kiss, devouring each other’s breath.

  Lily spiraled out of control, her head spinning and her body wild. She clutched at him, digging her fingers into his back, hanging on for dear life and still not getting enough, never enough. He was as deep as deep could be, and he moved as if possessed, until she splintered and gasped, her world exploding into a million shards of ecstasy dancing under her skin. She arched stiff and threw her head back, muscles contracting and her heart bursting with exhilaration.

  She felt Brady’s body stiffen seconds afterward. As she sank back into the mattress he thrust one final time, expelling a breath of air, and pushed into her deep, and hot, and throbbing. Then he sank above her, canting sideways so that their bodies meshed together in a damp, satisfied heap, connected, fulfilled.

  Brady wasn’t sure how much later it was when Lily sat bolt upright in bed.

  He looked at her in the dark, her hair wild around her head, her body still sheened with sweat from their lovemaking. He wanted to take her again, God help him. He felt like he’d been wrung out and whipped dead, but by God he could do it again in a heartbeat.

  “Doug,” she whispered.

  Brady pushed up onto one elbow, taking a strained moment to remember that Doug was not some other guy, but her fiendish, possessive dog who had somehow missed an excellent opportunity to castrate Brady.

  “What is it? What about him?” Brady asked. His voice emerged husky. The result of a spent body.

  She pushed her legs to the side of the bed and got up, moving swiftly to the closet. She pulled forth the fluffy pink robe he remembered so fondly.

  “It’s Doug. I left him outside, and now he’s barking.” She turned to Brady in the dark and though he couldn’t see her face clearly, for some reason he was sure she looked panicked. “He sounds scared.”

  Brady could hear it then, too, the shrill, constant yips. A cross between a cry and a bark.

  Lily spun and ran for the stairs.

  Brady leaned back and sighed. He could think of better endings to this evening. Like, for example, it being morning and the two of them waking up together. But leave it to Doug to screw up what Brady would like.

  He’d also like two matching shoes.

  Reluctantly, he pressed himself up to sitting, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He felt consumed, exhausted, and thoroughly content. How long had it been since he’d had sex?

  How much longer before that had it been since he’d had sex with someone he cared about? Lily was incredible, a firebrand, a hellcat, a body of passions the likes of which he’d never before known. At the same time she was tiny, a princess, a delicate cloud of emotions needing protection. She produced in him the strangest set of feelings he’d ever had. He needed to fight her and protect her.

  What kind of weird shit was that?

  He pulled on his boxers and jeans and followed her down the stairs. When he found her in the kitchen she was holding a trembling Doug and cooing in his ear.

  “He okay?” Brady asked.

  The moment the words were out of his mouth, the dog exploded with barks and growls, his paws freestyling against Lily’s arm in an effort to get at Brady.

  Brady backed up, worried about Lily’s safety while she tried to calm the little beast.

  “Should I go?” he asked. The dog could inflict actual damage on Lily in trying to get to him. “Would it be easier…”

  She didn’t look at him. “Yes, I think it would.”

  He backed out of the kitchen a couple of steps, trepidation suddenly taking hold. He meant should he go back upstairs, but he had the feeling that she meant he should leave. Go home.

  Was she regretting what had just happened? Had this been another “mistake”?

  Brady suddenly found it difficult to breathe. He turned and headed upstairs. He would get his shirt, he thought. He would get it slowly, and maybe she would put the dog somewhere and come up…ask him to stay…tell him she wanted him to stay, wanted to wake up with him, as he wanted to do with her.

  But as he reached the bedroom, he knew that she would not be up. She was down there, placating the wretched dog, soothing it after the trauma of finding a man who wasn’t Gerald in the house with her.

  Maybe soothing herself from that very same trauma.

  Brady felt anger well up within him. He was not some substitute for a guy she couldn’t get to sleep with her.

  So he wasn’t a lawyer with umpteen million years of schooling behind him. So he wasn’t on the “partner track” making five hundred thousand dollars a year. So he didn’t wear a suit to a barbecue.

  He would never do that.

  He was who he was, and if she didn’t want him, Brady Cole, imperfect, badly behaved, poorly educated, flawed but trying, dammit, then he didn’t want her.

  He grabbed his shirt up off the floor and pulled it over his head. Then he went down the stairs—glancing into the empty living room and down the hall to the kitchen, but he didn’t see her—and went out the front door.

  No good-bye—the dog might get upset—no eye contact to confirm that she wished him gone, wished him Gerald; no see you around to establish that this had been another mistake, that she was another entrée on his list of forbidden fruits. He had, accidentally, had another one-night stand.

  But this one broke his heart.

  Penelope! She’d forgotten all about Penelope! Or had she? Maybe she’d blocked her out, not wanted to confront that question on the heels of realizing what an idiot she’d been for so long about Gerald.

  Now she
was not only an idiot, but a terrible friend. And a slut. And a bad dog owner.

  Lily heard the front door close behind Brady and she sat down at the kitchen table. She placed Doug on the floor and wept into her hands.

  Doug licked her calf, whining softly from the floor.

  She was so exhausted. So confused. She’d gotten what she’d wanted tonight, but only for tonight. She and Brady weren’t a good couple. They wanted each other, but other than that, what did they have in common? And even if she didn’t care, she was sure that he had no intention of turning this into a relationship. Not after what he’d said to her that afternoon. Not Brady Cole, self-made man. He’d never settle for a Daddy’s girl.

  But even if he did, and even if she was the type of person to go after him no matter what he might think of her, she couldn’t just pursue what she wanted and say to hell with Gerald and Penelope, could she? Of course not. She could not be that bad of a person.

  Did it make her a bad person to want to, though? To really, really want to?

  The tears came harder and she pushed herself up from the kitchen table. She stumbled through the living room and up the stairs and threw herself into her bed, surrounding herself with covers mussed and wrinkled from her body and Brady’s, inhaling deeply of the pillow upon which his head had lain.

  She was in trouble. Worse than any she’d ever been in before.

  With that thought, she fell asleep.

  Lily awoke the following morning to a sharp bark from Doug, next to her bed. He sprang to his feet and trotted to the hallway. whatever he heard must have been either terribly bad or terribly inviting, because Lily heard him trundle down the steps.

  She turned onto her back and put her fingers over her eyes. They were swollen and gritty from crying. She was sure her face was blotchy, too. She felt as if she’d been beaten up.

  A few minutes later she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She pushed herself up in bed, panicked.

  Had Brady come back? She looked too awful to see him! Who else could it be? And what had scared Doug so badly last night? Surely it wasn’t coming up the stairs now, without another peep from him.

  “Rise and shine, cupcake!” Georgia’s voice sang out. “It’s ten o’clock. We waited as long as we could!”

  Lily exhaled and sat back on her pillows, inordinately glad to see Georgia and Megan come through her bedroom door.

  Doug trotted behind them with a grin on his face, like a happy butler showing them in.

  “See?” Megan said to Georgia. “I told you we should have given it another half hour. I’m so sorry to wake you up, Lily. We just came to see how you were.”

  Lily smiled and felt tears of sentiment prick her eyes. She was so lucky to have such good friends. She blinked the tears back. “I’m fine! What a great surprise to see you guys. How did you get in?”

  “The back door was open,” Georgia said, sitting on the end of the bed.

  “It was her idea to try it,” Megan added.

  Lily ran her hands through her hair and sat up straighter. “Let me get dressed and make you guys some coffee. Have you had breakfast?”

  “We were goin’ to ask you the same thing, but it’s obvious you haven’t. We’ve got coffee brewin’ and muffins in the oven,” Georgia said. “All you have to do is get your lazy ass downstairs and tell us all about what happened last night when Gerald brought you home.”

  Lily flushed. “I can’t believe you guys brought me breakfast! And after I ruined your party, Megan.”

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous,” Megan said. “I’m just glad you’re all right. And Sutter sends his best. He wants to pick up the tab for the doctor visit and wants me to tell you to make sure you go for his sake. He doesn’t like to worry. And you know he always gets his way.” She grinned.

  “Does he, now?” Georgia smirked.

  “I can’t believe you’re getting married.” Lily sighed.

  “You can’t?” Georgia laughed. “I can’t believe they haven’t already. Sometimes I forget they’re not.”

  Megan chuckled. “We thought we ought to do it before Belle could actually say the word illegitimate.”

  “People don’t say things like that anymore, do they?” Lily said. “I mean, nobody who saw you and Sutter together could think she was conceived in anything but love.”

  “Oh, that’s what they all say,” Georgia said. “Love, lust, what’s the difference? If you get married, it’ll shut up all the matronly old biddies, and nobody’ll think Sutter’s afraid you’re going to steal his millions.”

  “They don’t think that!” Lily protested, shooting a mortified glance in Megan’s direction.

  Megan laughed. “Don’t worry, Lily. I’m sure a lot of people do think that, but I know Sutter doesn’t, so let them talk. Gives them something to do, I imagine.”

  “God, I wish I could brush things off the way you do,” Lily said, then she gasped. “Is that the ring?” She pointed to Megan’s left hand and reached out.

  “Oh, yes! I guess you left before I could show it to you. Can you believe it?” Megan held out her left hand and a fine blush hit her cheeks. “I told Sutter it was way too much, not even my style. Which, let’s face it, would be something along the lines of a Cracker Jack prize. But I can’t help it, I love this thing.”

  Lily held Megan’s fingers in her hand and gazed at the square-cut diamond with two giant baguettes on either side.

  She sighed. “It’s the most gorgeous ring I’ve ever seen.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Georgia agreed, leaning over Megan’s hand with Lily. After a second Georgia’s eyes strayed around the bedsheets, from pillows to top sheet to the foot of the mattress where much of it had come untucked.

  “You had sex!” she said finally. Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, did Gerald stay over? Did he give you a good-bye boink? Is that what happened?”

  “Georgia!” Megan gasped, laughing. “Oh my God. You never fail to amaze me. Don’t answer any of those questions, Lily.”

  Lily felt her face heat like a burner on the stove. She was sure she could fry eggs on it if she tried.

  “No!” she protested hotly, hoping to hide the true situation with vehemence. “Good God, no. And I wouldn’t have let him stay even if he wanted to. I’m not going to start that up with him now, not with him leaving town for two months.”

  “You were ready to a week ago,” Georgia said. “Well, a little more than a week.” She winked at Lily.

  Lily took a deep breath. “He offered to stay. To sleep on the couch,” she added quickly. “Just to be sure I was okay, but I told him to leave. I was fine.”

  “Gerald offered to sleep on the couch?” Georgia snorted. “Lord God, that man has no sense at all.”

  “I thought it was chivalrous,” Lily said.

  “And no doubt a relief,” Georgia replied.

  Lily cocked her head, suddenly wondering why Penelope was not with them. Not that she expected any of them this morning, but if they’d been doing a group check on Lily, why wouldn’t Pen have come? Could she be angry with Lily? Had she caught on to Lily’s feelings? Lily even spent an irrational moment wondering if she could possibly know about last night.

  Or maybe…had Georgia told her about the kiss with Brady?

  “Where’s Penelope?” she blurted. She had to know. “I mean, not that she needs to be here but…”

  “Brunch with her ex, remember?” Megan said, shaking her head. “That can’t be anything but bad news, if you ask me.”

  “You said it, sister.” Georgia stood. “Okay, Lil. Time to get up. We’ve got to check on those muffins. Get yourself together and come on down; we’ll have ourselves a good old-fashioned coffee klatch.”

  Georgia and Megan left the room, Megan closing the bedroom door behind her.

  “I don’t care what she says,” Georgia muttered in a low voice to Megan as they descended the stairs. “Somebody had sex in that bed last night.”

  Megan laughed dismissively. “I don’t even w
ant to ask how it is you think you know that.”

  “It’s nothing gross. I just have an instinct about these things.” They reached the bottom of the steps and turned down the center hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house. The aroma of baking muffins scented the air.

  “Those were sheets of passion,” Georgia continued. “I’m tellin’ you. There’s a wrinkle pattern specific to a night of sex with which I am intimately familiar.”

  “I’m going to have to study mine the next time.” Megan moved to the oven and opened the door, gazing in at the not-yet-golden muffin heads. “I’m thinking that pattern might also resemble the one made by a bedful of restless dogs, though.”

  “Nuh-uh. You think I don’t know that pattern, too?” Georgia shook her head and sat on one of the stools by the center island. “Well, well, well, what’s this?”

  Megan turned, then looked where Georgia was looking, at the back door.

  Brady Cole appeared in the window, carrying a grocery bag. He spotted them the moment they spotted him. There was no escape.

  He knocked once, lightly, and opened the door. “Good morning, ladies,” he said.

  “Mornin’ to you, Captain Cole,” Georgia said, smiling wickedly. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”

  Megan smiled. “Hi, Brady. Can I get you some coffee?”

  He took a breath and looked around. “Uh, no. Thanks. Lily not up yet?”

  “We just went and woke her up,” Georgia said. “Go on up, if you want.” She waved her hand toward the stairs.

  “Georgia!” Megan protested. “She’s getting dressed, for God’s sake.” She rolled her eyes.

  Georgia laughed. “I don’t think that would bother Brady.”

  Brady wondered if he was blushing. “I just brought her some food. And wanted to see if she was feeling all right. No lingering effects from her, uh, faint last night?”

  “There may have been effects,” Georgia said, winking at Megan, “but nothin’ bad. She seems all right this mornin’.”

  Brady nodded. “Good.” His glance strayed around the kitchen. “Smells good in here.”