“I can make you feel special but you always shut me down when I do. Trying to keep it as casual as possible here, Valerie.”
She looked down at her toes, seeing the knitted fabric on her slippers move from her fiddling of toes.
“Okay. But only as your friend, since you can’t find anyone else.”
“Right . . . Saturday morning it is then, knocking on your door nine sharp, better feed Humpty before then.”
~ Chapter Twelve ~
Not that this trip idea had been mad, just maybe not very much thought through . . . a weekend away with someone you’d slept with but wasn’t going to date. Because well, he had tattoos and drove a bike and she was just trying to get her life together, maybe have kids, get married. In her parents’ congregation.
“Do you want to be right or do you want to be married?” Raylyn said from across the table, the Margarita doing most of the talking in an argument Valerie must have drifted away from while gazing at Bryce seated at her side. Jefferson, Raylyn’s husband and Bryce’s best friend, swallowed the rest of his bear and leaned back, an arm around the back of his wife’s chair.
“I’d like to be both if I can.” He smiled and the rest of the people around the table filled in with soft laughter.
She watched the people seated around her, two by two they had arrived here, except Hayley who’d brought her pup but was extensively eyeing a tall dark-haired woman at the bar a few tables away. Valerie sneaked a look once in a while, crossing her fingers the woman at the bar would get to have a chance to know just how great Hayley really was. Not that Valerie herself was gay, but to have Hayley as a friend was underrated and whoever got to date her would be forever grateful they’d met. Hayley was tall, fun, and utterly beautiful with her long blond hair cascading down her back in soft waves with a soft undertone of hot pink. She wasn’t a hairdresser for nothing, and the best in town.
“More?”
She turned her head at the question and in the faint light from the lanterns at the center of the table she noticed Bryce holding a bottle of wine above her glass. She thought for a second before she opened her mouth. At that time Bryce had already trickled the red, divine liquid into her glass just to repeat the favor to Brody at the end of the table. Brody’s wall of steel seemed to fracture from the alcohol and Bryce seemed to know how much more of it the man needed before he had to stop. Apparently, the Sheriff must have known it wasn’t yet as he downed half the glass the moment Bryce placed the bottle back on the table.
Brody’s girlfriend, Sunshine, smiled at Brody’s stone face and leaned in to place a soft kiss on his cheek that looked covered in a day’s stubble and made his feature a little less military and more lumberjack. Sunshine seemed to know what she was doing as Brody stood at the motion of her mouth at his skin, pulling Sunshine with him as they left the table.
“Be back in a while or is this a ‘we’ll see you tomorrow’ event you’re about to endure?”
Brody gave him Bryce a finger over his shoulder while walking away with Sunshine’s hand in his, the woman beaming all the way, blowing a kiss back to the table.
“It might be time for us to leave as well,” Jefferson said, nodding to his left where Raylyn sat, currently busy using her heart shaped straw to slurp up the last of the margarita from the large bowl of glass.
“I’ll be over at the new bar across the street, should anyone need me.” Wayne pushed in his chair and placed a few twenty dollar bills in the middle of the table before he left the remaining group still seated.
“Classy,” Bryce smiled and watched him walk away and out the front door. Jefferson helped Raylyn up and out of her chair, asking her to take her three inch heels off before they left the table, knowing possible wobbling may occur the second Raylyn’s hard grip at the table was released.
“Can I trust to leave my card with you?” Jefferson asked, smiling at Bryce across the table, handing him his credit card.
“Depends on what your spending limit is?”
Valerie sipped on the glass of wine Bryce had refilled and watched the two men’s playful bickering until Raylyn handed over her heels and grabbed onto her husband’s arm.
“I’m sorry,” she smiled, being the opposite of sober. “I haven’t been away from our kids in almost two years, nor have I had a drink this strong,” she whispered as quietly as a trombone and pointed excessively down at the empty glass on the table nearly waving down a lantern in the swift motion.
The tables around them still seated guests. At theirs, just Bryce and herself.
“Did you enjoy the food?” he asked and placed his strong, long arm along the back of her chair.
She took another taste of her wine. “I did, thank you.”
“And the people?” he smiled, and shook his head at the way they had all behaved.
“I do like your friends, very much. You bicker but in a fun, friendly manner. That’s how it should be.”
They finished up their drinks in the ambient light of the candles and left the restaurant and its coziness for the evening’s colder weather outside. They walked several blocks, less than a foot apart, and Valerie’s mind continued to fight the battle of being cute and romantic and take his hand in hers, but decided not to. She’d been the one ever since she came back from Brazil to hold off on their . . . whatever it was between them.
She didn’t need to question her actions too long as they rounded a corner and her feet slid on the black ice and she reached out for the closest thing not to fall on her bottom, Bryce. As if the most normal movement, Bryce grabbed her upper arms and pulled her away from the ice and onto dry ground, took her hand in his and entered the hotel entrance. The shiny gold frames around the circulating roundabout door brought them quickly into the warm foyer.
A quiet ride in the elevator brought them up to the seventh floor and as they each placed a key in their adjacent rooms nodded a warm wish of good night.
Valerie heard the sound of a television on the other side of the wall, some crime drama. She placed her coat on the side of the couch and flipped through the menu provided to her on the desk. A tad too much wine and a walk in close proximity with a man she tried to avoid made for a craving of something, and this something had to be silenced with something. The closest thing possible, food. A cheeseburger with sweet potato fries and chocolate cake with whipped cream would be delivered in fifteen minutes.
Valerie sighed and waltzed into the large bathroom. A steamy, hot shower would be perfect right about now, she thought, checking the clock on the nightstand. She poured and downed a glass of wine from the bottle she’d brought in her suitcase and felt a nice buzz go to her head. Fifteen minutes until calories galore.
She’d heard him. Recognized the low baritone voice as he’d called out he’d brought in her food from outside. Bryce was in her room, waiting for her. Maybe for more, she didn’t know . . . the wine did funny things to her mind.
Slowly she stepped from the tub knowing his eyes were pressed closely at the keyhole, she placed one leg at the side of the tub allowing for a sheer bead of glistening water to run down her stomach, to the place she dreamed he would touch. Using her hand she traced the way the drop of water had travelled and with a finger she dove inside herself releasing a gasp from the touch. Slowly she inserted yet another finger and the feeling of utter pleasure made her legs give away and she sat herself down on the tub never once taking her hand away from inside herself. Her head lolled back and towards the door she spread her legs wider imagining the sound of a rough breath on the other side of the keyhole.
The faster her fingers moved the faster she breathed until her breath caught and her body stilled in cramped ecstasy and he watched how her legs quivered in release. She let her fingers slide out of her warm wetness and slide up her stomach, then looking straight at the keyhole, knowing the subtle noise on the other side of the door had peaked the moment she’d ruptured, and closed her lips around her fingers tasting her own saltiness of her tongue. She stood and before he knew
how to react she opened the door, took his hand and placed it between her legs and watched his pupils go entirely black.
***
He looked up at her, his eyes dark and intense. She felt herself flush which was returned by a grin. Turning his head, he rubbed up against her inner thigh with a day’s worth of scruff on his face and she nearly came.
“Bryce —" He glided his thumb over her and followed it up with his tongue. A man had never treated her this way, not in her entire life. Her breathing sped up and she gasped his name as he locked his mouth over her in the best of ways. So thorough she lost it completely and sagged against his mouth, his large hands holding her up by her upper thighs.
He stood up. “Turn,” he said firmly, placing her hands on the edge of the bathtub, gently bending her forward, running his large hand over her back steering her in place.
“I can’t feel my legs.”
“I’ve got you,” he answered and spread her legs using his foot until he got her where he wanted.
She didn’t move, instead she nearly sagged to her knees as he place two of his fingers inside her. Deep. Fast. Hard. He grabbed her around the waist, holding her from behind making her endure the pleasure from his hand until he replaced it with someone bigger. Fuller. Harder. In one solid move he was inside her and she gasped at the quick sensation.
***
Valerie was hardly breathing. Hell, it had really been that good. Still locked around Bryce like a tortilla around its beef, she didn’t want to break the spell, or move, or talk, or breathe. Right now, she was in the moment and she wasn’t worried about her mom, the congregation, her reputation, her future. In fact, she felt . . . safe and content. At home, even. A dangerous thought. Although “content” wasn’t the correct word for what her body was feeling. Her body still hummed the afterheat of sex, orgasms, and the cradling of one sweaty Bryce. The best things served in nude. On her. In her. Behind her. Under her. The list could go on. She was still aroused. She let her hand moved slowly down his back, feeling dampness of sweat at his lower back before she reached his butt cheek and squeezed. A handful of perfect ass in her hand. It gave her a tired laugh from his mouth currently nestled at her neck, his almost 200 pound male body gluing her into the mattress where they’d ended up.
“Again,” he murmured and got rewarded. He was hard to resist. He was also, again, hard against her inner thigh.
“I have condoms,” she managed. “More, in my purse.”
“That makes us two,” he said kissed his way around the skin of her neck, making her squirm in delight. “Condoms that is, not a purse.”
“Why did you bring condoms?” She gasped as he sucked at her earlobe.
“Same reason you did,” he managed and pulled away from her, leaving her chilly and alone in the bed.
“Must get rid of this to make it round two,” he smiled and pointed down at the used condom around his cock. It made her close her eyes and gave a laugh from Bryce as he walked into the bathroom for his business.
“Come in here, Val.”
She took a deep breath and hauled her tired body off of the bed and sauntered into the bathroom.
She hadn’t as much as entered the room before he scooped her up and her placed on the extended sink, stepping in between her legs and pushing them open.
“The best thing I ever did tonight, maybe ever, was to take that food order from the waiter and bring it inside. Damn I’m glad you dropped your key card outside the door.”
“Must have been in a rush,” she whispered and shivered at the way his eyes engulfed her body.
“Some type of rush, for sure.”
Her cheeks burned when she realized what he held in his hand in front of her, while his other hand slid slowly down her naked thigh, squeezing as they went. Her purple vibrator she’d brought in her make-up bag. Fuck.
“Sorry, I wasn’t going to use it or anything,” she managed and tried to close her legs to no success. He was still standing between them.
“I expect you to use this.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
He handed over the hand sized vibrator she usually kept in her secret drawer of underwear and socks at home and swallowed.
“Yes,” he nodded and placed her hand holding the vibrator between her legs and turned it on for her. “I’m going to watch and you are going to come.”
He glided his thumb over her again and quickly followed it up with his tongue, eyes still on hers. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Here goes nothing she thought and clenched her muscles as the vibrator hit the first good spot. If she died, this was the way to go.
~ Chapter Thirteen ~
After fighting a ferocious feline in a superfluous cranky mood for over an hour, Valerie’s mind felt drained except for three thoughts using up whatever energy was left: get that cat a restful sleep for the night, an oozing pizza rich in melted cheese from Rick’s bar, and Bryce naked . . . pounding her into the headboard. Okay, so maybe that was four.
She felt the blood rush through her body, a zing of something coming from her toes and hitting somewhere in her head, then dive down and pool between her legs. Damn, that man could make her mind go crazy. For an entire week since she had gotten home from her weekend trip with the man her stomach had fluttered. She had been hoping to squash those bugs before the week was over.
She pushed the front door open when she got home and was greeted by Humpty, her own fat feline, but in a much better mood than what she’d wrestled with this afternoon. She placed the pizza she’d picked up from Rick’s on the side table inside the door and toed off her sneakers into the heaping pile of random shoes on the floor under the coat rack.
“I’ll trade you a beer for a slice of that,” a voice murmured behind her and had she not been this exhausted her body would have been plastered to the roof and the rest of her clothes left in a pile on the floor.
“Bryce!” she gasped. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” She grabbed at the chest of her own shirt, trying to still her racing heart.
He stood tall in the doorway, a six-pack of beer in one hand his other dragging through his hair. He was watching her; from the bottom of her white socks, along the purple scrubs decorated in pink paws for the day, to the bun on top of her head. She knew what she looked like. Messy. Sweaty. And hadn’t she been famous for her new job in town she might have been taken for a back alley cat.
He smiled and with that heated the temperature in the hallway to the warmth of the sun and she suddenly felt sweaty for other reasons completely. His jeans fit him like a glove, perfect in every which way, cupping where it should and had a slight tear on his left knee. His t-shirt stretched across his wide shoulders yet his large frame made him look relaxed leaning against the frame of the doorway.
“Well,” she mustered and started to pay extra attention to her hair, knowing it had no chance of being rescued from its beehive form, ”you’re not wearing more than a t-shirt in this weather so it would be rude to not let you come inside.”
He stepped inside - no correction - he walked like he owned the place down the hallway to the kitchen where he placed his choice of beverage on the counter. “Exactly my thought,” he said as he took a bottle in each hand and handed one over as she joined him at the counter.
“Cheers to . . . what exactly?” he managed and let the bottle top touch his lips, moisture going from the bottle to his lips wetting them slightly. It made her gulp and she knew she’d been caught as the slight wrinkles around the corner of his eyes moved and he lowered the bottle to just look at her.
“I think we should toast to you becoming speechless whenever I catch you looking at me like that.”
Valerie puffed out a laugh and held the bottle up to her lips to somehow cover his obviously correct guess and her burning cheeks.
“Not true,” she said and shook her head, trying to get rid of the color moving up her face. “We should toast to the week being over,” she continued and watched him as she tilted th
e bottle to her lips and gulped down a too large amount of beer. It made her cough and sputter but she swallowed down the embarrassment.
Bryce watched her with a light smile tugging at his lips. “Whatever you say, but I do like both alternatives.”
An hour passed and they shared four beers and heated up another pizza Valerie had found rummaging through the freezer. Bryce sat down at one of the stools at the counter and pulled out the other for her, then surprised her by eating almost the entire pizza by himself in less than ten minutes.
“I work hard every damn day,” he answered her stunned look. “I work off that pizza during my morning run tomorrow, plus the weight lifting we do at the station’s gym between going out on calls. This . . .” he said as he took one last slice from Val’s plate, “is like a snack until I eat again before hitting the sack.”
Suddenly a sharp noise, sounding like a wooden board snapping in half, cut the dining experience into silence. Val turned in her seat and looked out the sliding glass door behind them. Bryce followed the same motion.
“What was that?” Bryce asked low before he stood and walked toward the door.
“That’s exactly what I was wondering,” she replied and followed his lead until she was right up against his back.
“Hiding, are we?” he said and looked over his shoulder to where she was standing.
“Not really, just, you know, you’re bigger than me and you just told me you lift weights at work for fun. In my world that means you go first. Also,” she kept rambling too fast, “you’ve lived here longer and know what kind of things go on in this neighborhood and I . . .”
Her voice was cut off by Bryce turning around and looking down at her face. He smiled and placed a finger on her lips, silencing more than her lips. Her entire body stopped at his touch.
“You’re rambling when you get nervous, just like you did abroad when we fell down the hill and had to stay with you.”
She didn’t reply as he turned to open the door to the porch and let a cold breeze inside the house. Valerie stepped around him, hitting the light switch at the inside before she stood on the back porch now bathed in light.
Keeping Up Appearances (A Gass County Novel Book 4) Page 6
