Drawn Deep (Afternoon Delight Book 2)

by Taryn Quinn

Sara sighed. “You could still wear an ugly dress and cry in the courthouse.”

  “Forget it. You’ve never been a bride before and had all eyes on you. This is your time to shine.”

  “Fine, fine. You have more expertise in this area than I do anyway—” Sara broke off, looking horrified. “Oh shit, I did not say that. I mean…” Helplessly, she looked at Brad. “What did I mean? Hurry up and take the awkward away.”

  “She meant she saw that picture of you in your wedding dress and you looked absolutely gorgeous.” Michael’s smooth reply drew three sets of gazes his way. He jerked a shoulder. “It was in the cabinet in the dining room.”

  “Shoved in the back. Were you snooping?” Kim hoped the sharp questions disguised the wobbliness of her voice.

  “If you like. I call it observing.”

  “She was gorgeous in her dress, wasn’t she?” Sara asked wistfully. “I didn’t know her then but wow. Model-worthy. If I find a dress half as lovely, I’ll be ecstatic. As for the rest, there’s no comparing.”

  “Oh stop it.” Kim flicked Sara’s knee. “You’re beautiful. And I practically had a mullet.” And a baby bump, though she didn’t add that part. She’d gotten married for love—and babies. In the end, she’d had neither.

  Determined to change tracks, she grabbed Sara’s hand and raised her brows. “Where is the ring? No ring, clod?” She thumped Brad’s leg. “Did I teach you nothing?”

  Her brother smirked. “Actually yes, you did teach me nothing in this case. I can honestly say we have never discussed rings, wedding or otherwise.”

  “We’re going to pick it out later. He wanted me to choose something I liked and it’s really not a huge thing in the grand scheme.”

  “How are you my best friend? Not a big thing? How are you supposed to flash your ring in every picture if you don’t have one?” Shaking her head, Kim let Sara go. “Fine, fine. To each her own.”

  Brad nudged Sara’s shoulder. “Whoa, sounds like my sister is giving us a bit of credit. Today is truly a special day.”

  “Will you go shopping with me?” Sara asked, ignoring Brad. “We need to plan this wedding quickly so I need a dress fast.”

  “How fast?”

  Sara winced. “I’m due in Laramie the week of Thanksgiving.”

  Visions of an empty table on Thanksgiving danced in Kim’s head but she ruthlessly shoved them away. Her woes weren’t pertinent at the moment. “Thanksgiving’s less than three weeks away.”

  “Yeah. Sorry. Sucky timing with the holidays and all, but the previous director quit on short notice and—”

  “I’m on it. We’ll make it happen,” Kim said firmly, hoping like hell she wasn’t telling a lie.

  She kept up the brave face throughout all of the excited wedding talk, even turning on some music and shaking her ass a bit with Sara when Brad and Michael escaped to the garage to do who knows what. After their jubilant booty dance, somehow they managed to come up with a rough plan for the festivities—including a guest list and possibilities for caterers—in under three hours. It helped that she’d spent the bulk of her life in Fairdale and knew approximately everyone. This wasn’t high wedding season and she had faith she’d be able to pull in some favors. Plus, Sara wasn’t a diva so she was fine with making concessions for her accelerated timeline.

  Twice she tried to ask Kim if she was really okay. It was a lot to take in all at once. But Kim just smiled and diverted her right back into the plans, determined not to pee on their cloud.

  Brad and Sara were her closest family. No matter what, she would share in their joy and not think of herself. For once, she would be selfless.

  Hopelessly alone at the most difficult time of the year, but selfless just the same.

  The honeymoon would consist of a weekend away in New York City before they had to leave the following Tuesday. Sara’s first day at work would be the day after Thanksgiving.

  Kim planned to be heavily drunk that entire weekend. It was good to have goals.

  By the time Sara retreated to bed with Brad hot on her heels, Kim was on the verge of a headache. Not to mention the jaw ache she’d earned from excessive smiling. She wasn’t fit to be a decent human. Masquerading as one for a few hours had positively worn her out.

  So when Michael strolled in the room, an orange cup in one hand and a silver tumbler in the other, she had to force herself to not snarl. “What’s that?”

  He sat beside her and held out the cup. “Find out for yourself.”

  She accepted it and sniffed before taking a healthy sip. And moaned out loud. “Holy crap, that’s good.”

  “I know.” He gave her a smug smile. “It’s my special concoction. I checked with Brad and you had most of the ingredients. Good thing he likes cocoa powder. The Nutella was an unexpected bonus.”

  “I was expecting alcohol and you made me a chocolate hazelnut milkshake. This is why you’re like no other man, ever.” She took another drink and rolled her tongue over her lip to erase her certain milk mustache. “This is not a bad thing, by the way,” she added as he focused on the wall beyond her head.

  Great. Clearly she wasn’t fit for consumption. Michael should leave before she crushed him under her giant unfeeling bare feet.

  Kiminator, reporting for service.

  “I know I’m not like your usual dates.”

  The understatement of that made her snort into the cup she’d shamelessly buried her face in. She wanted to absorb the chocolate into her pores. “I don’t really date. I screw around and then break up either when I realize we have nothing in common or when they realize I’m not suitable to bring home to mama. Mainly because I’m mama’s age.”

  “Not a problem with me. My mom only wants me to be happy.”

  “How’d you luck out there?”

  “Because she wasn’t. Isn’t,” he corrected quietly.

  “She never found anyone else after your father’s passing?”

  “With nine kids?” He circled the silver overflow cup. “No. She had a date or two here or there. She’s still in that cramped place and it’s hard for her to invite people over. Even friends. I asked her to move in with me, with the kids. I have so much room.”

  And you’re lonely, she realized, biting her lip to keep from voicing her observation. One that dovetailed awfully closely to the realization she’d come to about herself when she’d learned she would soon be all alone in the house she loved so much.

  No one to share bowls of popcorn with or insult during the football game when the Raiders were losing. No one to trade sex stories with after sneaking home from a date. No big brother to flick milk at across the table over breakfast. No one to come home to, period.

  Alone. Alone. Alone.

  “Actually I’m kind of in a similar sitch. But it’s my fault for not becoming a full-fledged adult when I had the chance.” She lifted the dripping straw she hadn’t bothered to use and offered it. “Here. You need this as much as I do.”

  Lips curving, he leaned in to draw on the end. Watching his throat undulate as he swallowed did uncomfortable things to her stomach so she went back to slurping her shake. She could almost feel another mistake happening with every suck.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice too soft. He wanted to hear her life story, she could tell. And he was the kind of man she wanted to share it with. He would listen and actually care. Maybe even stroke her hair while she spoke. So fucking dangerous all the way around.

  Then again, what did she have to lose? She’d already deflowered a man almost a decade and a half younger than she was. A man who worked for her brother and by extension, for her—especially now that she would surely need to be more involved in the day-to-day operations of O’Halloran’s. Maybe she could head to the shop every night after work ended at the sanctuary and stay until closing. Avoid the I-don’t-have-anyone-to-eat-dinner-with rush.

  Yeah, rock bottom would make a cushy landing spot for her head right about now.

  “After my marriage ended, I didn
’t try to build a life. Not the way the people I went to school with did. Do you know almost my entire high school class is coupled up? Most of them long married with kids?”

  “It’s the way of the world.”

  “It is. I tried it that way. For some reason, it didn’t work for me. So I decided to have indiscriminate sex and drink on the weekends and basically live like a frat boy because I was on my own and didn’t have to account for my actions to anyone else. My mom’s death woke me up some.” She rubbed ice cream off the rim with her thumb. “Not enough. When Brad moved in, and Sara after that, it was only supposed to be a temporary thing while we fixed this place up for sale. Along the way, I forgot the temporary part.” She curled her damp thumb into her hand. “They didn’t.”

  “They’ll visit, you know. They aren’t going away forever.” The gentleness of his tone made her eyes burn.

  “I know. And I’m so happy for Sar. So happy for my brother. You saw them together. They…fill each other up, you know? They’re everything good about marriage, and they haven’t even signed on the dotted line yet. I know they’re going to make it.”

  “What about you?”

  She let her head drop to the cushions. “I don’t know. It scares me that I don’t have all the answers.” She released a long breath. “I can’t see my future from here.”

  “So let’s talk about what you do know.”

  “I like living in Fairdale. I lived in Florida for a while and it wasn’t for me. This is.”

  “What else?”

  “It makes me happy to work at the sanctuary. I even enjoy—” She bit her lip, thinking of the brightly colored bird she would be losing too.

  “What?”

  “I was thinking about Telly. He’s Sara’s. She’ll be taking him with her too.” She closed her eyes. “It’s all right. I’m all right.”

  “Of course you are.” He eased the cup out of her hand. “Tomorrow you’ll have a plan of attack for all of this. Right now, you’re reeling. Lots of changes all at once.”

  She smiled and turned her head toward him without opening her eyes. “Are you trying to sweet talk your way into my bed?”

  He shifted on the cushions, easing away. She felt the wall going up between them and for once, she wasn’t the one adding the bricks. “After my screwups with you, I wouldn’t presume I had any right to do that.”

  “But you would have if you hadn’t lied?”

  “I might’ve. I’m not perfect.” The exasperation in his voice made her grin. “What?”

  “Those words are very appealing to me. Know why? Because I’m not perfect either. And you look like my kind of mistake.” She forced up her heavy lids and stared at his handsome profile until he gave into her silent command to look her way. “Would you like to spend the night?”

  There was no missing his rapid intake of breath. “On the couch?”

  “No.” She leaned closer and palmed his scruffy jaw. Five o’clock shadow had turned into midnight and it gave him a rakish appearance she greatly appreciated. “In my bed. To sleep. They recommend a solid eight for optimal functioning the next day, you know.”

  His lips twitched. “Who’s they?”

  “Just work with me, Montgomery.”

  “Working.”

  “Can you sleep in my bed and, I don’t know, give good spoon like you did last night?” She let out a shaky breath. “I have a feeling I might need it.”

  He reached up to caress the side of her face, his thumb tracing under her eye. God, her lashes actually fluttered from his touch. “I can do that.”

  His cock hurt.

  Michael inched open an eye, peered around at the unusual surroundings and slumped back into the pillows. Just because, he glanced down the length of his body. As expected, a prominent bulge lifted the sheet. And no wonder. He cast a sideways glance at the woman sprawled on her stomach beside him, one pale arm tossed carelessly across his stomach. He’d worn his boxers to bed to ensure her comfort while Kim wore a skimpy little red nothing with spaghetti straps that didn’t stay up. Her dark hair spilled in every direction, including over his face.

  Before he blew it away, he took a quick sniff. God, that summery scent had made him hard in his sleep. The full breast tucked against his arm hadn’t helped the cause either.

  A quick look at the alarm clock told him it was almost five a.m. He didn’t have to work today since he usually had Saturdays off but that didn’t mean lounging in bed was a smart idea. This wasn’t his bed, for one. Seeing his boss across the breakfast table didn’t really do much for him. Besides, he’d fulfilled his promise to Kim. He’d held her for most of the night. His arms still tingled from the incredible feel of her body pressed close.

  He needed to get up.

  Squaring his shoulders, he eased Kim off him and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Fuck, it’d be a miracle if he made it into the bathroom with the boner he was sporting.

  “Going somewhere?”

  His breath hissed out between parted lips. “It’s almost morning.”

  The mattress shifted an instant before soft lips skated up his spine. “You have to work?”

  “No.” He almost wished he could say yes because this woman, this bed, represented a landmine. Pleasure lurked in its depths—if he survived the initial blast.

  “Got a hot date?”

  He couldn’t help smiling at the sleepy huskiness of her question. “A wise woman last night told me she didn’t date, just screwed around. I’m thinking that might be a plan for me too.”

  “Hmm. Then we should practice, don’t you think? I’d hate for you to go out into the world all…inexperienced.”

  He rolled his neck, trying to keep his body from tensing any further. It was basically a lost cause. The sex and silk in her tone had hardened him to steel in a nanosecond. “You’d be doing a public service in a way. Keeping the hapless non-virgin from unleashing his moves on an unsuspecting populace.”

  “Yes. And we all know I’m a humanitarian. By the way, you’re going to have to tell me more about how a man lives with a woman for years and keeps his cherry. I’m still confused.” She rose up on her knees behind him and circled her arms loosely around his shoulders. “Though I have to say…” Her lips closed over his earlobe and he swallowed a groan. “I liked getting the first juicy taste.”

  A shudder moved through him. Apparently her teasing hadn’t been verbal only. She intended to deliver on her promises. “What’re you doing?”

  “Right this very second? I’m about to slide my hand into your shorts and take care of that very attractive morning wood with my mouth. I’ll probably bring you right up to the edge and then I’ll search around for a condom, put it on with my teeth and ride you like I’m in the fucking Kentucky Derby.”

  “Oh.”

  She laughed at his non-answer and rubbed her cheek against his. “Is that a good oh or a bad one?”

  “It’s an I’m trying not to cream my shorts before you touch me one. And also an oh shit one because I can’t believe you’re giving me another chance when I’m not sure I deserve it.” He turned his head and caught her lips, kissing her gently. “You’re a gift to me, baby. I don’t want to pull the ribbon too soon or rip the paper. I want to unwrap you just right.”

  Her tongue touched his, as tentatively as her hand caressed his back. Her flirtatiousness seemed to have disappeared with his speech.

  Had he freaked her out? Done something else wrong? Turned her off completely? If he hadn’t yet, he probably would soon. This sex thing was more complicated than he’d ever imagined.

  “You’re going to have to tell me when I fuck up,” he said, unable to steady his voice. It felt like so much more was on the line than a simple bounce and tumble. “I’ve never been the best with cues and especially not in this arena. If I touch you in a way you don’t like or if I move too fast or too slow or hell, if you don’t like the way I kiss, you need to say it so I can fix it.”

  She tipped her forehead against his. “I
love the way you kiss. You don’t rush.”

  “Anything worth doing is worth taking your time.” He brushed her tangled hair away from her face, wishing he could see every one of her beautiful features. “Can I turn on a light?”

  “I have cellulite.”

  He stroked her cheek. “Is that why you’re so fucking hot?”

  Her laughter took him by surprise. “Another thing I love about you? Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re screwing with me. I never quite know what will come out of your mouth next.”

  “That depends on what you’d like to hear.”

  “Dirty talk,” she decided. “Definitely dirty talk.” She moved away before he could question her further and turned on the light on the nightstand beside the bed. “Better?”

  “Much. What kind of dirty talk do you mean?”

  She sat in front of him, pulling her bent leg toward herself. The pose gave him a brief glimpse at the satiny curls between her legs. Naturally she wasn’t wearing panties. God.

  She arched a brow. “If you have to ask, you must not be a dirty talker.”

  “I can learn,” he said quickly. Too quickly probably. Like the might-as-well-still-be-a-virgin he was.

  “Oh, I have no doubt about that.” Tossing back her hair, she relaxed into the pillows and tugged on the ties that, apparently, kept her nightgown together. With a few flicks of her fingers, the red lacy fabric fell away, baring her gorgeous body. “First, I’m going to teach you how to properly eat pussy.”

  “W-hat?” Of course he stuttered. Because this was the perfect time to act like a douche. “I already know how to do that.”

  “See, this is part of that story I need to hear. Later.” She dismissed it with a wave and wrapped her hand around her breast, almost casually. Though how anyone could touch such perfection in a blasé manner, he’d never understand. She leaned forward and widened her legs, giving him a clear view of heaven. Flushed raspberry folds taunted him, glistening with moisture. “Tell me, Michael, are you a giver as well as a receiver?”

  “I am.” He couldn’t clear the hoarseness out of his voice. Nor could he stop staring at the gleam of wetness on her inner thighs. God, he wanted a taste. “Let me prove it to you.”