Compromising Positions (Invested in Love)

by Bayley-Burke, Jenna

  He nodded. “What kind are those?” He motioned toward the four big bowls.

  “Blackberry corn, like the ones that mysteriously disappeared from my fridge the other day.” She gave him a pointed look. “Lemon raspberry, toasted coconut, and blueberry cinnamon burst. All low fat and sugar free.”

  “When did you start developing the recipes?” It had been almost a year since Deliver-Ease had turned from a money sucking in-house nutrition program for Strong Gyms to a profit-generating phenomenon—a success Craig had taken all the credit for, never mentioning someone else had done a lot of the work.

  “I enjoy it, and since I get the meals at work, it pays off for me in the long run. Did you eat dinner yet? I’m trying out a couple of chili recipes, too. White bean and black bean.”

  “Sounds good. Do you have any beer?” he asked.

  “I don’t drink, but you could have Craig pick some up on his way over.”

  He froze. Craig couldn’t see this domestic bliss, this cozy picture David never even thought to fantasize about. Craig was going to freak. Freak, and then kill him for messing with Sophie. Or take him outside and ask him about his intentions. And since those didn’t go much beyond dinner, Craig would be pissed as hell.

  “What?” she asked, sitting in his lap again. “Craig lectured you on the empty calories of alcohol, too?”

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m not ready. Not for Craig’s microscope. I barely know what is going on here. I can’t explain it to someone else.”

  “Me, either,” she whispered back. “How about, you’re here to keep me from eating all this food myself.”

  Pulling his head back, he looked into her pale blue eyes. “You think that will work?”

  She shrugged. “It’s true, and people believe what they want to believe. Besides, I can handle Craig, even if you can’t. If he gets too suspicious, start asking about Daphne, and he’ll get so wound up he’ll bolt. He only agreed to come here because we can’t test food at their place or she’ll get sick from all the smells, and so she arranged for a girlfriend to watch TV with her.”

  “For somebody that doesn’t lie, you’re awfully good at diversion.”

  “I can be devious given the right incentive.” She snuggled closer. “But I won’t lie, David. If he asks.”

  “I know,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “Too much work.”

  …

  Craig had bought it—a little too easily for Sophie’s ego, almost as if he didn’t see her and David even as a possibility. Granted, she hadn’t thought it a possibility twenty-four hours ago, but that was beside the point.

  A lot had changed in a day. Making love with David had been beyond her expectations. It had almost erased the fear from the break-in. She was still annoyed about the way he’d had taken charge, turning her apartment into Fort Knox. But when she saw his bag by the door, her anger had faded.

  He was going to try, actively attempt to break one of his precious rules. Usually, she had to sneak up on him, break the rule before he had a chance to realize what was happening. She couldn’t stay mad if he was going to try and make them work.

  Them. She was getting ahead of herself. She wanted more, but he’d made it crystal clear that he wouldn’t even consider a relationship. She couldn’t let herself read too much into anything.

  She’d set the ground rules, promised him that day at the bakery no one would know. Promised him a casual, no-strings affair. And she hadn’t let him in on her realization she wanted more before they’d made love. No going back on her word now.

  “What are you doing?” His hot breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine.

  “Cleaning up.” She stepped aside, but he moved with her. “If you give me a minute, that’s all it will take. If you keep on me, we’ll be in the kitchen all night.”

  His hands came down against the counter on either side of her. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  She spun to face him. “David, scoot. Five minutes, I promise.”

  He cocked his head. When he looked down at her with those big brown eyes, cleaning was the last thing on her mind.

  “What should I do?”

  “What do I look like, your entertainment director?” She held a finger to his lips. “Don’t answer that, or I’ll never get you out of here. Just give me five minutes to clean and then we’ll do whatever you want.”

  His eyes crinkled in the corners as he leaned in closer. “Whatever I want?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Whatever you want. Now go, before I change my mind.”

  …

  She didn’t have cable, and all of the books in the living room were written a century ago. Or for children. She seemed to have every Dr. Seuss book ever published. David moved to the bedroom and flopped across the bed, the cool cotton of the duvet soothing his heated skin.

  Whatever he wanted. If only he could focus on getting the most out of that promise. But she had him so overheated he’d have to make it up as he went along. He rolled on his side, remembering the books on the nightstand on his side of the bed. His side of the bed—as if he had been there more than once. He chuckled, sitting up and fingering the books.

  “What are you laughing at?” Sophie called from the kitchen.

  Damn, this place was small. “You’ll find out in four minutes.” He yelled back. Maybe she’d stay over at his place, where there was cable and more room. But her bed was bigger. He ran his hand across it, still a little intimidated she’d chosen the bed with him in mind.

  Maybe they could move the bed to the condo. He shook his head to dislodge the intruding thoughts about closet space and houses. He wasn’t going to let himself go down a road he didn’t belong on.

  He turned to the books again. Her little red paperbacks with half-naked men on the front did nothing for him, so he opened the drawer to drop them inside. He winced, watching them tumble on top of not one, but two vibrators. Which one was BOB? He slammed the drawer shut.

  “You okay in there?” she called out.

  “Three minutes,” he hollered back.

  The Fabulous Fellatio book had fueled some amazing dreams, but that wasn’t on his menu for tonight. The large white Kama Sutra manual grabbed his attention. He grinned. Back to where it all began. This would do nicely. Opening the front cover, he noticed color coordinating tabs sticking out from the pages.

  He thumbed through, recognizing the basic positions from week one that had done him in, the female-superior positions from week two he’d been fantasizing about, the sitting postures from last week that he’d finally managed to control himself through. Looking ahead, he saw how the final weeks played out. Rear entry and standing, then a series from a book called The Perfumed Garden. She’d made notes, listing yoga and Pilates moves to complement the poses.

  The corners of his mouth twitched. She’d said anything. He scanned the pictures again, imagining how Sophie would look in each pose. Like a kid in a candy store, there was no way he could pick just one.

  “What are you doing?” Sophie asked from the doorway.

  He leaned back against the pillows and leered at her. “Homework. I need a study partner. You know anyone who’d be good?”

  “Very funny.” She switched off the light and bounced onto the bed next to him.

  He reached to the lamp on the nightstand and flipped it on. The red scarf draped over the lamp made the room glow.

  He watched the smile dance across her lips as she reached for the hem of his shirt. He lifted up, helping her take it off him. Pulling her onto his lap, he placed the book on hers. “We should practice for next week,” he whispered into her ear. She stiffened and tried to push away, but he held her close.

  “You know what you might like?” The tremor in her voice grated him like fingernails on a chalkboard.

  “Sophie?” he asked, as she reached for her Fabulous Fellatio book. He took it from her hand, replacing it on the nightstand. “I’m not going to make you do anything.”

  “I know,
” she said, placing her hands on either side of his face. “Just not tonight, okay. I don’t want you to be fantasizing about someone else yet.”

  “What?” He tried to hide his laughter. As if his brain had room for anyone else.

  “The book says rear-entry positions promote fantasy, which has its place, but not tonight, okay? If you’re going to break your one-night rule, I want to know you’re thinking about me.”

  He tried not to laugh at her innocence. He pulled her against the pillow with him, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “I thought rules didn’t apply to you.” He tried to be serious, mature, but really, where in the hell else would his focus be but on her?

  “They don’t. Stop laughing at me!”

  “I had a one-time rule, not a one-night rule, if you want to be technical. Once a break or nap is necessary, I bail. The only time I ever stayed over was with you last week, and then last night.”

  “Really.” She smiled, pushing herself on top of him. He tried to focus on the conversation as he felt her breasts pressing against his bare chest.

  “Really. And believe me, I would be thinking about you.” From the way she raised her eyebrows, he knew she wasn’t buying it. “I want you. And your heart-shaped ass. I swear.”

  She relaxed her legs on either side of his hips. “Those positions seem so clinical. One of them is even recommended for watching television. How can you make love to someone you are not even looking at?”

  Make love. Damn. “You’re over thinking it.”

  “I don’t see the attraction.” She pouted. “And there are some that won’t work for us.”

  “What are you talking about?” He rose up on his elbows at the challenge.

  “Think about it. You are over a foot taller than me. When we’re standing, we don’t exactly…you know. Line up.”

  He collapsed back as the laughter racked his body.

  “It’s not funny, David. I’ve been trying to figure out how we are going to manage. The highest heels I can wear are only four inches.”

  He couldn’t stop, the vision of her engineering sex positions played out like a comedy in his head.

  “Stop it.” She wiggled her fingers along his ribs. “Stop laughing.”

  “Stop tickling me. No one has tickled me in decades.” Rolling over, David pinned her beneath him. “I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks we don’t match up.” He caught his breath and watched the fire build in her eyes.

  “I’ll figure it out. Every one of those positions. I aced physics, I can do this.”

  He rolled off her as he started laughing again. “The physics of sex. Now, that is sexy.”

  “You will like it.” She climbed astride him and lifted his hands over his head.

  “Sophie,” he warned as she slid the scarf off her lamp. With one hand, she held his arms against the pillows, her fingers unable to cover both his wrists at once. “No,” he said, wondering if he meant it. It was strange the way this innocent so easily took control of his body and his responses. He’d never given away such power before.

  “No, what?” Her chaste expression could have fooled almost anyone.

  “You are not tying me up.”

  Her grin sent a thrill through his body. “What fun is that?”

  …

  A maddening beeping invaded her dreams. Warm, wonderful, naked dreams. Sophie struggled to free an arm and then slapped the alarm quiet. He had her pinned to the bed again.

  She finally felt warm enough. Nestled beneath his body, she felt safer than she could ever remember being. The way his broad shoulders sheltered her body beneath his, the way one thigh pressed against her while the other was flung over her legs, cocooning her in his warmth—neither of them could move without the other knowing.

  His body radiated heat at exactly the same rate hers sucked it up. Finally, something could warm her. The position made her all too aware of the thickness resting against her backside.

  David rolled off. “Don’t let me do that.”

  She turned over, facing him. “Do what?”

  “Trap you.”

  She loved the taste of his skin, the feel of his muscles just beneath the surface as she kissed his neck. “I like it.”

  Squeezing her closer, he rolled back, pinning her beneath his arm and leg again. He twisted her curls around his fingers, almost sending her back to sleep. “Sophie?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Why don’t you lie?” His voice vibrated against her bare body.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It’s not, but I think there’s a reason for it, an important one.”

  She opened and closed her hands against his chest, her nails scratching him lightly. “Too much work. Who can keep all the stories straight?”

  Silence hung in the air like fog until he finally spoke. “You don’t want to tell me.”

  She didn’t want to tell anyone, ever. No one needed to know this particular truth. But in all fairness, she kept pushing him to be more open when she remained closed.

  “I can’t tell you without asking you to lie for me, and I don’t want to do that.”

  “I can keep a secret.”

  “I don’t know if I can tell one,” she said with a sad smile. She’d only said it out loud once, and then it hadn’t been the story, just a statement of fact under the safety of doctor patient confidentiality. “Besides, it’s too early in the morning for this conversation.”

  “If you ever need to tell, remember I want to hear it.”

  She took a deep breath and weighed the risk. “You’d have to lie to Craig, and I won’t ask you to. It’s better this way.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  To choose her over Craig? Not yet. “It’s not that.”

  “I think it is. Not that I blame you.”

  Her stomach clenched. “Where do you see this going, with us?” If they had a future, she would have to tell him someday.

  “Diversion. Nice try, but you taught me that trick. Did something happen to you?” His arms tightened like a vice. “Did someone hurt you?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s not even my secret to tell really. It’s just a lie that keeps snowballing, and I wish it had never started.”

  “Then end it.” His lips were warm at her temple.

  “It’s not that simple. I can’t burden her with that.”

  “Her. Now we’re getting somewhere. The her you’re worried about could only be Daphne.”

  “David, please.”

  His body stiffened and he released her. “Oh my God, she cheated on him, didn’t she?”

  “No!” She grabbed both his hands in her own. “She would never. She loves him completely. Just look at all she is willing to do to give him a baby.”

  He relaxed beneath her touch. “I know. I should give her more credit. I still don’t understand why they didn’t adopt. After all, Craig is adopted.”

  “That’s why they didn’t.”

  He rolled back, facing her again. “What?”

  “Craig wanted to feel a blood connection to someone.”

  “That’s ridiculous. His parents were great. They adored him.”

  “But they didn’t look like him. And when he couldn’t find his birth parents, he put everything into having a baby. When both he and Daphne had fertility problems, he was crushed.”

  He nodded. “I know, that’s why I paid for the treatments they needed.”

  “You did that? Even though you thought they should adopt?”

  “It was their choice. I wasn’t willing to pay for the surrogacy, though, even before I knew it was you.” His fingers were woven in her hair again, massaging her scalp. “Why did you agree to do it?”

  “I wanted to. Daphne has always been focused on having a baby. She’ll love this baby as much as she can. And I had a dream the night she asked me. Daphne handed me this tiny baby, and I held him, and then I gave him back to her. It was so real. I thought it was a sign.” He didn
’t need to know that in the dream it felt like her insides were being ripped out as she’d handed him back, or that she had woken up and cried because he wasn’t real. There wasn’t another explanation for how moved she’d been by that blue-eyed little boy.

  “Why would you want to have someone else’s baby?”

  It was so hard to explain, she wondered if she could even put it into words. “I didn’t offer. She asked me. If her baby had to be carried by someone else, who could she possibly trust more than her sister? It was so important to Craig the baby be theirs, his. That there be someone in the world he could look at and see himself. I got that.”

  “I’m still missing something, aren’t I? Were you adopted? Is that why you and Daphne don’t look alike?”

  “No, I’m not adopted,” Sophie whispered, measuring her words, breathing slowly so she could stay in control, keep the heavy tears from falling.

  “I’m close to it, aren’t I?”

  She nodded and closed her eyes, focusing on breathing in and out, in and out. She wouldn’t lie about it; she’d promised herself that much. But did she want to tell him, or did she want him to guess? Her eyes flew open at the thought of him guessing. He might make it worse than it really was, like he had earlier, assuming the secret was Daphne’s.

  He reached for her, pulling her closer against his chest. It might be easier now that she didn’t have to look at him.

  “You don’t have to tell me, but I want you to.”

  “Why?”

  “It feels like something I should know.”

  Her eyes closed over the tears. He was right, and if she had as much faith in them as she claimed, she shouldn’t even have hesitated.

  “In junior high, I did a biology project in my parents’ living room with some friends. It was on the laws of inheritance, dominant and recessive traits. We had to do charts on our families. My dad had retired to focus on his treatments, and so he was home. I couldn’t get my project to come together like my friends’ did. Both my parents were green-eyed blondes with straight hair, just like Daphne. All recessive traits, according to the textbook. Which would mean my dark curly hair and blue eyes were impossible.” She felt the breath fall out of David’s chest as he drew her closer.