They fell into companionable silence for a few moments, sharing their cigarettes in the quiet of the snowy courtyard, shoulder to shoulder on the bench. It reminded him of their youth, stealing cigarettes from Jack’s dad, and smoking them behind the garage.
“What’s Karly have to say about this deal with Mitch and Pilar? You ever ask her?” Jack broke the silence first.
“No, she hasn’t mentioned them, and I hate to bring it up. I might say something I shouldn’t. And it’s not her fault her brother’s a douche.” The collar of his shirt seemed to get tighter. He tugged at it and cleared his throat. Jack gave him a long, appraising stare.
“Are you tapping that yet?” Jack asked.
“Uh, no.” Randy gave Jack a playful shove on the shoulder. “And if I was, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you about it.” He steeled himself for the good-natured ribbing sure to follow and was surprised to see Jack’s face sober.
“I like Karly. She’s a nice person. You guys have a lot in common.” Jack took one last drag off his cigarette and flicked it into a nearby snow bank. "We’d better get back inside before the girls come looking for us.”
CHAPTER 21
SILENCE FILLED the trip back to Karly’s apartment. Randy’s gaze never wavered from the road, and she never spoke. He walked to the door with her and stood beside her with his hands jammed into his pockets, while she searched her purse for the key to let them in the building. The deep furrow in his brow suggested he had something to say.
“What?” she asked after a moment. “What is it?”
“Nothing. I just…” His discomfort was beginning to make her uncomfortable as well. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm sorry about the Josh comment. Hell, I’m the last person with the right to judge you. And if you like the guy, then…”
The sincerity in his words erased the tension between them. Relief flooded through her, cleansing away a weight she hadn’t known she carried until that moment. Randy stared down at her from his considerable height, rugged and handsome in his customary gray hoodie and brown leather jacket. Their eyes met. She smiled at him, and his lips twitched into an answering grin.
“Would you maybe want to hang out tonight? Watch a movie or something?” He shifted in his stance on the steps as if nervous, the movement stirring up the scent of soap and fabric softener.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Caught off guard by his invitation, she floundered for an answer. The cadence of her heart increased. Was this a date? No, of course not. They were friends, nothing else. The minute she started reading more into his actions, the minute she opened herself up for heartbreak.
He stared at her, head cocked to one side, waiting. After the visit to the hospital, a plethora of unresolved emotions swirled in her head. Her chest ached with longing for Emma. She needed to see her, touch her, and know she was okay. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts and wallow in misery.
“I could pick up something for us to eat. Pizza or whatever you want,” he said, his tone hopeful. A light breeze ruffled his hair and reminded her it was too cold to be standing outside. She shivered and tightened her coat around her.
“Are you bribing me with food?”
His solemn expression eased. “Isn’t it obvious?”
CHAPTER 22
WITH A huge bowl of popcorn between them, they settled in to watch a movie. Randy sat at one end of the couch, long legs stretched beneath the coffee table, while she curled up at the opposite end. After a heated debate on the merits of action thrillers versus gory horror, they compromised on a romantic comedy starring a famous former athlete and a stunningly beautiful actress.
“Do you think they’re doing each other in real life?” Randy asked abruptly about halfway through the movie. “They’d have to be pretty good actors to fake sex like that.”
“No. She’s married,” Karly replied between mouthfuls of popcorn.
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Randy kept his eyes glued to the television. The undercurrent of feeling in his tone reminded her of the terrible thing her brother had done to him.
“Not everyone cheats,” she said. “Some people believe marriage is sacred.”
“Humph,” he snorted. “And what do you think?”
“I think what Mitch and Pilar did to you was wrong,” she said then sucked in a horrified breath and held it, waiting for his reaction. To her surprise, he laughed heartily at the antics on the TV screen before answering.
“No offense, but your brother’s a douche,” he said. “And I blame myself as much as him or Pilar. It took me awhile to realize it but hanging onto that kind of resentment doesn’t help anyone.” After a few seconds of silence, he stood and went to the refrigerator for another beer, speaking as he walked away. "In a way, I think Mitch did me a solid.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” she asked.
“Because she didn’t love me,” he said as he returned to the couch and sank into the cushions. “Not really. She might think she did, but she always had one foot out the door. She was looking for someone better the moment after we met.” The bluntness of his statement struck a chord inside her. He certainly didn’t sound like his heart was broken. She bit her lower lip and tried to ignore the way her own heart skipped a bit at the idea.
“Have you ever cheated on someone?” she asked.
“No, and I never would,” he replied.
They turned back to the movie, watching without further comment, the silence occasionally broken by Randy’s hearty laughter. The sound filled her with warmth. To her surprise, she felt comfortable and relaxed around him, like they’d been doing this for years. About halfway through the movie, she forgot propriety, groaned, and propped her feet on top of the coffee table.
"You okay?" he asked, casting a shy sideways glance at her, sharp features illuminated by the glow of the television.
"Yeah, but my feet are killing me," she said. “They got a workout at Felony last night. I’m used to being on my feet but not moving around so much.”
"Seems like I owe you a foot-rub, don't I?" He was already moving to her end of the couch, pushing aside throw pillows and an afghan.
"I don’t think I can turn that offer down."
The words barely left her lips when he took her legs by the calves and shifted them into his lap. He peeled off her socks and tossed them to the side. Thank goodness, she'd taken the time to paint her toes yesterday. His large hands were warm and gentle in their touch. He rubbed deep, languorous circles with his thumbs, paying special attention to the balls and arches of her feet.
Tingles of pleasure meandered through the sore muscles, radiating up into her calves and farther north to places deep inside her core. Her head fell against the back of the couch. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the unfamiliar bliss. She moaned again. When his hands stopped their magic, her eyes flew open to find him staring at her with dangerous dark eyes.
“Do you have to moan like that?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You're really good at this, and it feels wonderful.”
“It’s hard for me to concentrate when you’re making sex noises.” His cheeky grin caused the flush in her cheeks to ratchet up a notch, remembering her unbridled cries during their night of passion.
“I’m not making sex noises,” she huffed and gave him a playful shove with her foot. His grip tightened around her toes, holding them prisoner on his lap.
“I’ve heard your sex noises, remember?” He stroked a finger along her instep, and she bit her lower lip to stifle a squeak of delight. "And that was definitely a sex noise.”
“You’re high.” She didn’t dare look at him. The tingles of pleasure in her feet had transferred to a much deeper, more intimate place. She wiggled her toes impatiently and closed her eyes to enjoy the sensations. “More. Please don’t stop.”
“Yeah, I remember you saying that, too,” he said, following the words with a rasping chuckle. “Except it was more like, Oh, Randy,
don’t stop!”
Her eyes flew open. This time his face was much closer, close enough to show the occasional strands of red and gold in the stubble of his cheeks, and the heat in his eyes. She swallowed hard, unable to look away when his gaze dropped to her mouth. The tip of his tongue slid along his lower lip.
“We’re missing the movie,” she said.
“Fuck the movie.” His left hand traveled to her ankle and squeezed briefly before sliding over the length of thigh and hip, following the curve of her waist and coming to a stop below her breast. His gaze dragged from her mouth to the spot where his hand rested. Her nipple leaped to attention, its peak visible beneath the thin cotton of her T-shirt. A smile ghosted his lips as his eyes came back to hers. “We can always rewind it later.”
“I’m down with that,” she whispered.
Before she drew another breath, his lips were on hers, parting them so his tongue could capture hers in an erotic dance. With the easy grace of a powerful man, he slid her onto his lap, her legs straddling his thighs. His large hands gripped her hips, pushing her down against the hard ridge of his erection. The stubble of his beard tickled her chin. Their kiss deepened.
The lazy caress of his hand elicited a shiver of delight. While his tongue played with hers, his fingers tickled the fine hairs on the nape of her neck, escaped from the ponytail holder. He tasted of beer and popcorn, his lips buttery and salty. She let her hands slide along the rounded swell of his shoulders, along the concavities of his chest, his nipples as hard and tight as her own.
While they kissed, his hands explored her body. They traced the strip of skin above the waistband of her jeans but never ventured inside. She tangled her fingers in the silky curls at his collar while he trailed kisses up and down the column of her neck, licking and nipping at the tender flesh along his way. The dampness between her thighs increased. She rocked gently against his erection.
They made out for a long time, lost in touching and tasting each other. From a very far distance, she heard the click of the DVD player shutting off. The noise of the romantic comedy ended, leaving them in silence but for the sound of their labored breathing. She sucked the tip of Randy’s tongue, and he moaned.
“Now who’s making sex noises?” she whispered against this throat. He snorted in amusement and tugged her earlobe between his teeth, tickling her with his heated breath. "I’ve heard them before, you know.”
“You’re going to hear them again if you don’t stop kissing my neck like that.” Even as he chastised her, he angled his head to give her lips better access.
The feel of him beneath her hands, the taste of him, and his clean scent intoxicated all of her senses. She lost herself in the brush of his work-roughened palms and the steady beat of his heart against her chest. It felt good to be with someone who didn’t want anything from her, who didn’t demand more, or—even worse—take without asking.
Beneath all the physical awareness lurked a kernel of emotion trying to take root in the ruins of her heart. More disturbing than the bewildering glut of feeling for this complicated man was the abrupt loss of his lips on hers. His fingers captured her wrists and pulled her hands away from him. He held them prisoner at her sides and pushed back from her, a look of harried introspection on his face. In an instant, all the euphoria and pleasure dissipated, replaced with the familiar sensations of shame and insecurity.
“Did I miss something?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice even, determined to hide her eyes in case he saw the hurt inside her. Her worries were needless because he avoided her gaze and shifted her from his lap with a gentle shove.
“No. We’re good. It’s just…it's late, and we both have class in the morning, and I need to get going.” He rose to his feet and straightened his clothing. Before she could collect her thoughts, he was out the door, leaving her cold and alone on the sofa.
CHAPTER 23
OUTSIDE KARLY’S apartment building, the bitter cold stung Randy’s cheeks and cleared the fog left in his brain by her sweet kisses. He passed a hand over his face and drew in a deep breath. Damn it, he was this close to storming back up those stairs, dragging her into the bedroom, and sinking himself into her heated depths until they both screamed with ecstasy. But did he really want to open himself up to more hurt? He might not have loved Pilar, but he cared for her. The loss of their relationship wounded him more than he admitted. After their breakup, he vowed never to open himself up to that kind of vulnerability again.
He was angry with himself. While he looked the other direction, Karly had managed to capture not only his mind, but his body as well. Another few minutes in her arms, and he would’ve given her the keys to his truck, his bank account number, and the combination to the cash safe at Felony.
The velvety softness of her skin still tingled beneath his fingertips. The memory had his cock straining against the fly of his jeans. He’d kissed quite a few girls in his lifetime. None of them ever invoked this kind of mindless desire. Yet, he’d been unable to go the distance with her. A puzzling turn of events considering they’d already had sex—make that great sex—once before. So why did he run from her like a virgin on prom night? He wasn’t sure until he pulled into the alley behind Felony. The realization stopped him cold.
Their one-night stand had been fueled by lust and circumstances. On that night, they’d sought mutual comfort without repercussions. When he’d left her the next morning, he thought he’d never see her again. No matter how much she denied it, he’d seen the hurt and confusion in her eyes over his abrupt departure. He never wanted to be the source of that look again. She deserved so much more than that. When—if——he ever spent the night again, he wouldn’t leave her in the cold.
He scrubbed both hands through his hair and groaned. Who the fuck was he kidding? If he ever spent the night again, he’d never want to leave.
CHAPTER 24
A FEW days later, Karly met Ally at Joe’s Java Joint, a coffee shop near campus. The tiny place bustled with customers, eager to escape the bitter cold and snow with a hot beverage, smooth jazz, and good friends. Fresh coffee and cinnamon scented the air. Cups clanged against saucers. Espresso machines whirred. Outside the window, snowflakes danced on the breeze.
"Nice hickey," Ally said as they stood in line to order.
"What? Oh." Karly turned up the collar of her shirt and fought back the bloom of color rising in her cheeks.
"Wanna tell me where you got that?" Ally raised an eyebrow.
"I burned myself with the curling iron," Karly said. Under normal circumstances, she would've regaled Ally with the entire story in enough detail to make her conservative friend squirm. A vague feeling of unease kept her from spilling the truth.
"You’re such a bad liar." Ally eyed her up and down, eyes narrowed.
"I'll have a caramel cappuccino with eight sugars," Karly told the barista, grateful for the reprieve, and stepped aside so that Ally could order.
"Eight sugars? Are you sure that's enough?" Ally asked.
Karly tilted her head and looked at the ceiling for a second, contemplating. "Well, yeah, I think so. Although I’m not sure there is such a thing as enough." Ally chuckled, and Karly grinned back at her.
"I swear. I’m amazed you still have all your teeth. And I don't know why you don't weigh a thousand pounds.” Always conscious of her weight, Ally ordered a non-fat skim milk latte with a double shot of espresso. She cast a disparaging glance at Karly's slim figure and bumped her shoulder affectionately. "You should be a humongous, toothless hag instead of the beautiful skinny bitch I adore."
"Yeah, well, if you were as poor as I am, you'd be skinny too. I've been living on popcorn for weeks. When I do get to eat, I have to make it count." To emphasize her point, Karly took a sip of her cappuccino and hummed in approval over its thick richness.
"In case you didn't know, coffee isn't a food group."
Karly feigned a look of horror. "And I suppose you'll tell me next that a Bloody Mary doesn't count as a vegetable either
."
"No, I'm pretty sure it's a vegetable. Tomato, celery, olives. It's like a salad in a glass." They both chuckled. "I'll get this. Both of these together," Ally told the girl at the register, thrusting forward a debit card and waving away Karly's money.
"I wasn't asking for a handout," Karly said. Outwardly, she frowned but breathed an inward sigh of relief. The five dollars in her hand was all she had for the rest of the week. "I can pay for my own coffee."
"I know that. Just shut up and let me pay. You can buy next time. The way things are going right now, I'll be broke by then." Ally rarely showed any emotion, but upon closer inspection, Karly saw lines of strain around her friend's mouth and eyes.
"That bad, is it?" They slid into a booth at the back of the café. “I thought business was good. You had a huge crowd the other night.”
"That was just one night, and they’re getting fewer and farther between. We need a hundred nights like that one to dig us out," Ally said with a sigh. “We found out today that there’s a lien on the building for back taxes. David still owns the building, and I guess he forgot to share that little tidbit with us. And to make matters worse, one of our guys was hurt in a fight a few weeks ago. He went to the hospital so, of course, we had to pay for that, and the guy he bounced is suing us for emotional distress or some kind of bullshit."
"I’m surprised Randy let things get out of control." Karly traced a finger in the brown sugar dusting the muffin. Ally raised an eyebrow at the mention of Randy. Karly blushed. "I mean, you're always telling me how Randy has a handle on things."
"He’s been a little distracted lately. Problems with his ex and their kid, I think. I don’t know. He’s not very forthcoming most of the time." Ally's paused and quickly changed the subject. "So how, exactly, did you burn your neck with the curling iron? Because it looks like a love bite. And I noticed one very similar on Randy’s neck yesterday. Coincidence? I think not, Ms. Eriksson.”
Felony Romance Series: Complete Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 38
