To Laney, With Love

by Joyce Sullivan

  He didn’t want her to shed unhappy tears ever again.

  “There’s nothing to understand, Laney,” he whispered. “Reese didn’t appreciate what he had...how beautiful you are.” Reverently, he traced the silken warmth of her tear-stained cheek with his fingertips, then with his lips.

  “Or how beautiful you are in here.” His hand settled on her breast, over her heart. He nuzzled her ear, reveling in the scent of her hair, in the delectable softness of her skin. His pulse pounded through his veins as she inclined her head toward the touch of his lips.

  Ben’s breath grew ragged with restraint. “Or how desirable you are...”

  “Oh, Ben!”

  Desire slammed into him as he hungrily sought the softness of her lips.

  Her sob turned to a sigh as she shifted and moved, parting her lips to grant him access to the velvet warmth of her tongue. She tasted of bliss, and magic, and emotion, and Ben lost himself in the spell she cast over him, in the questing thrust of their tongues and the fiery need to touch and savor every inch of her.

  He feathered his thumbs over her breasts and felt a surge of male pleasure when her nipples pebbled instantly.

  “Touch me, please, Ben,” Laney moaned.

  “Where? Here?” he asked, sliding his hands underneath her sweater and cupping her lace-covered breasts in his palms. Her skin was like warmed satin, sinful in its luxurious texture.

  “Yes, oh!” Her soft sigh registered in his brain as he released the front clasp of her bra and lovingly stroked the soft, creamy globes until the urge to claim her breasts with his mouth was so strong he had to break their fevered kiss.

  Laney threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him as he pushed her sweater aside and growled deep in his throat as he devoted himself to worshipping each satin mound. The sweet taste of her pushed him deep into an abyss of ecstasy that he’d never known before. Filled the empty corners of his soul. He prayed this would be the first of a lifetime of loving between him and Laney. He swirled his tongue around a nipple as taut as a raspberry.

  He felt Laney’s fingers slide over his neck and dig into his shoulders. “Do you like that?” he asked huskily.

  At her shuddering acquiescence, he chuckled and slid his hands down inside the waistband of her leggings. His body went painfully rigid as his palms molded the scrap of lace covering her smooth bottom. He ground his hips against hers, his heart soaring as if on feathered wings as she matched his movements.

  Ben shifted his attention to laving her other breast as he slid one hand to the curve of her belly, exploring the dip of her belly button. Joy shot through him like wildfire as her fingers tentatively outlined the hardness of his erection through his jeans. His fingers lifted the elastic of her lacy panties and parted the silken patch of curls nestled between her legs. She inched her thighs apart for him and traced the broad tip of his maleness with her thumb. For a searing second, Ben thought he was going to climax right then like an inexperienced teen.

  Struggling to maintain control, he dipped his finger in her moistness and stroked her, awed by her readiness for him. But she stiffened when he found the pearl of her femininity. Her eyes widened in alarm.

  Ben’s hand retreated to the lacy border of her panties and he kissed her brow. “I’d never hurt you, Laney. I want to touch you there, too.” His voice deepened. “Most especially there. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

  “Promise?”

  At least there was no question she didn’t want to make love with him. Her fiery hair spilled over her shoulders as she looked up at him. Ben’s heart stilled at the trust in her still-damp eyes and he tumbled head over heels in love again.

  “I promise,” he croaked.

  Her eyes sparkled like blue gems as he pulled off his jeans and underwear, first rescuing a foil packet from his wallet. Then he rolled her leggings and panties down her creamy thighs and tossed them on the floor near his clothes. Laney added her sweater to the pile and started work on the buttons of Ben’s plaid shirt as he slid his hands over her hips. Having her naked and smiling before him was a dream come true and he didn’t want to say or do anything to spoil the moment.

  His desire nudged insistently against her belly as she slid the sleeves of his shirt off his arms. Ben ripped his white cotton thermal underwear over his head and flung it across the room.

  Love and need twisted through him as Laney rose up on her toes and planted a kiss on the mat of hair covering his chest. The evocative feel of her lips on his bare skin raised goose bumps on his arms. Laney was right where she belonged. Ben closed his eyes and let his hands skim over her, as though verifying that all her delicious curves matched his fantasies. As her fingers curled possessively around his maleness, he found the pearl of her femininity, the core of her emotions.

  He felt the tension build in her with every stroke until her response rose in a sensual song of pleasure in her throat.

  Ben captured the sound with his mouth, sharing it, nurturing it with devouring kisses as his fingers stroked and caressed Laney. Satisfaction welled up inside him when he felt the first shudder of her orgasm ripple vibrantly through her body. Her song carried him so nearly to the edge, but they had a peak to reach together. He let her sing as long as he dared, wanting to give her as much pleasure as possible, then brought her quivering body down from its height and eased her onto the edge of the bed so he could reach for the foil packet.

  He sheathed himself, fulfillment exploding in his heart and overflowing into his soul as he entered her and felt the tangible joining of their hearts. So close... Ben braced his arms on the bed on either side of Laney and thrust deeply into her again. Once, twice. Laney made a noise of pure contentment that mimicked Ben’s thoughts. The heavenly perfection of her legs clasped around his hips. There was only him and Laney. Him and Laney. The rhythm whirled in his mind as her fluttering spasms embraced his maleness, coaxing him to share in her release. Ben couldn’t hold back any longer. Arching into a final thrust, he reached the summit with her.

  BEN WOKE UP at six-thirty the next morning, buoyant from the magic of the night before. The soft rise and fall of Laney’s breathing brought a grin to his lips and a mercurial rush of hard desire to his groin. She lay curled up in a ball on the left side of the bed, defenseless against the world except for the sheet and thin blankets that covered her.

  He stared at the tantalizing curve of her hip, wanting very much to inch closer and awaken her as she should be awakened: with warm kisses and assurances that she was loved. But he didn’t have any more condoms with him and getting even a centimeter closer to Laney would be downright irresponsible. Especially when every single cell in his body ached to love her again.

  Careful not to disturb her, he eased back the covers and reluctantly climbed out of the king-size bed. A cold shower and a layer of clothes and he’d feel safe enough to face Laney.

  JUDGING BY the brightness of the ray of light sneaking through the crack in the closed drapes and the sound of the water running in the shower, Laney knew it must be morning, but she didn’t want to open her eyes and put an end to the night before.

  Ben had made love to her. Unexpectedly. Passionately. Thoroughly. Her body tingled and ached in places she’d forgotten a woman’s body were supposed to tingle and ache.

  Of course, it wasn’t a dream. But it had been a mistake. A big one. She knew it from the moment Ben kissed her and told her she was beautiful. A cynical part of her recognized that his actions were probably motivated out of pity for her. But she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to believe his husky words and wanting him to touch her. She’d needed Ben last night, needed someone to hold on to. A blush crept over her cheeks. Ben had filled that role, and then some.

  The question was, how was she going to gracefully disentangle herself from the situation before a very nice friendship was irretrievably ruined? Ben hadn’t exactly been spouting words of love last night. He’d told her himself he had a poor track record. His sexual relationships rarely lasted
longer than three dates.

  She briefly considered putting off her let’s-befriends speech until Ben’s warranty expired, then ditched the idea as being too juvenile. She and Ben were both adults. They could handle this reasonably. Rationally. The shower shut off in the bathroom and Laney heard the muffled sound of Ben’s humming. At least Ben was in a good mood this morning. Pulling the sheet off the bed, she wrapped it around herself toga-style and waited nervously for him.

  A few minutes later, the bathroom door swung inward and Ben stepped into their room, fully dressed in the jeans and blue plaid shirt he’d worn yesterday, his tall form enveloped in a cloud of steam as though a fairy godmother had magically delivered him from a mystical place. Laney swallowed hard and felt a queer tightening in the pit of her stomach.

  She clutched the sheet tighter around her, to protect herself from the disarming warmth blazing in his eyes. The blue-and-gray tones of his plaid shirt set his eyes off to devilish perfection. If he grinned, Laney knew she was done for and would probably do something foolish like drop the dam sheet. Only the thought that Josh might suffer for her foolishness kept the sheet clamped tightly to her bosom. Would she ever be able to look at Ben again without thinking about the way he’d touched her last night? About the things he’d whispered in her ear.

  She held up her hand as he started to say something. “No, me first.” To her embarrassment, her voice squeaked.

  Ben stopped and folded his arms over his chest.

  “Thank you for last night,” she went on, finding it frustratingly impossible to guess what he was thinking behind his neutral expression. “I needed a reminder that it’s possible to have great sex with other men. But I don’t want what happened last night to affect our friendship—or the boys’ relationship. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I don’t want the fact that we’ve had sex to ruin that. There, I’m finished,” she said with a lame smile. “Your turn.”

  Ben gazed down at the tousled silk of her hair and the flushed skin of her shoulders in disbelief. She actually thought he’d slept with her just to be nice! Hell, maybe he’d been similarly nice to other women in the past, but last night hadn’t been about sex. He wanted to be with her always. To be a real father to Josh.

  Ben clamped his jaw shut and debated his options. If he declared his feelings now, would she think he was just being nice again and doubt his sincerity? Maybe he was pushing things too fast and Laney was too upset over Reese’s betrayal and his murder to even consider committing herself to another relationship.

  Weighing his words carefully before he spoke, Ben touched the tiny indentation in Laney’s small, pointed chin. “Nothing’s changed since yesterday. You can always count on our friendship. I don’t fly across the country for just anyone—only for Josh’s mommy.” The quicksilver flash of fear darting across her eyes at his touch and the slight trembling of her jaw confirmed his suspicions. She wasn’t unaffected by their lovemaking last night. Just not ready. Well, he could respect that. And he could wait.

  Last night had taught him that some things were well worth waiting for.

  HOME. Laney stood in her own front hall and listened to the taxi drive Ben away. He’d spent most of their return flight to Ottawa trying to convince her that she and Josh should stay with him and Scott until the police figured out whether Dallyn Vohringer or Yale Sheridan was behind Reese’s murder and made an arrest. Laney had thanked him for the offer of his guest room, and politely refused. It could take the police weeks, months, even a year or more to solve Reese’s murder. Her office was in her home and she had a pile of work waiting for her.

  And she’d flat out refused Ben’s counteroffer to stay with her and Josh. It was the last thing she needed or wanted after they’d made love the night before. She’d never sleep knowing he was downstairs in her living room. She needed distance from Ben, not more confined intimacy. But she didn’t tell Ben that. The explanation that her neighbors and the police—not to mention Josh—would surely take note of the event and blow the significance of it out of proportion provided a sufficient reasonable excuse.

  Besides, she’d served as the fall guy in the murderer’s game. She couldn’t imagine the murderer risking exposure by trying to harm her now. Still, Ben had stubbornly insisted on entering the house with her and searching it for would-be intruders waiting to jump her. He’d even checked her phone line to make sure it was working. Then, after ordering her to lock the door after him and call him if she sensed anything the least bit suspicious, he’d finally taken his leave.

  But when she closed her eyes, he was there. In her thoughts. The imprint of his lovemaking still present in her senses. Laney shook her head and groaned. She had far too much to do to waste time daydreaming about Ben. The boys were at a hockey game in a town forty minutes outside of Ottawa. Laney figured she had less than an hour and a half to herself before she had to pick Josh up at Ben’s place. Hopefully, it was enough time to get some professional advice on how to break the news to Josh about his dad.

  Laney carried her luggage upstairs to unpack and piled the gifts she’d bought for the boys in a fabric bag to take over to Ben’s house. Then she made herself a cup of chamomile tea and called her friend Colombe.

  The psychologist picked up the phone as Laney was leaving a message. “I thought you were another solicitor,” Colombe said lightly. “So far today, I’ve been made a special offer on magazines, rugcleaning services and gourmet chicken breasts.”

  Laney laughed. “Maybe you want to hang up. I’m calling to solicit your advice.”

  “Let her rip. I haven’t heard from you in at least a week. I thought you must be busy because you weren’t returning your e-mail or phone messages.”

  Laney’s tea grew tepid as she launched into an abridged version of the last week.

  Colombe offered her condolences. “Thank God you weren’t arrested. What a traumatic experience for you. How are you coping? Wait, don’t answer. I’m going to hop in my car. I’ll be there in five minutes, provided it starts. I’ve been having trouble with the battery again.”

  “Please don’t make a special trip over,” Laney said before Colombe could hang up. “Although I’d love to see you, it’s really not necessary and I have to pick up Josh at Scott’s house shortly. I’m okay. I’m still in shock, but I’m optimistic the police will be arresting Reese’s killer very shortly. I just called to hear your voice and hoped you might have some magic words of comfort I could offer Josh. It seems easier not to tell him at all, but there’s a strong chance this will create a furor in the media.”

  “I agree you have to tell him. The only magic words are ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I understand.’ At his age, Josh has very simplistic ideas about right and wrong, good guys and bad guys. He might wonder—or ask you—if Reese was killed because he was a bad person. Just be prepared to answer his questions and give him all the love and support you can. And remember, it takes a child—or anyone—time to come to terms with a loss...particularly when another issue is involved. Under the circumstances, it would be very normal for Josh to experience feelings of abandonment.”

  They talked for almost forty minutes longer, Laney skirtings around Colombe’s subtle and not-so-subtle prying about Ben. Laney had explained that Ben had accompanied her to Whistler and left it at that. She wasn’t quite ready to share the news that she’d slept with him. It still felt too intensely private to share with anyone. The house felt lonely and far too silent as she hung up the phone.

  She missed the boys and the sound of their video games. Laney glanced at the clock and gathered up her house keys and the bag of gifts she’d stowed by the door. Though she dreaded the task of telling Josh about Reese, she couldn’t get to Ben’s house soon enough.

  “DAD’S A LIAR! I don’t care what he did.” Josh shouted, throwing his Spider-Man toy action figure across the living room. It knocked several leaves off her temperamental Dizygotheca plant, then slammed into a wall with a crack and slid to the floor.

  Before she co
uld stop him, Josh squirmed out of her arms, jumped off the couch and ran upstairs to his room, his feet thundering on the carpeted stairs.

  Laney went after him. “Josh, honey, I know you’re upset, but please come back and listen to me—”

  “No!” The sound of his bedroom door slamming rattled the windows in the house.

  Laney paused at the foot of the stairs and looked back at Spidey, who’d landed at a peculiar angle. She took a few seconds to retrieve him, glad to discover the toy action figure she’d bought to replace the one Reese had given Josh wasn’t the worse for wear. Not that she was about to allow throwing in the house. Hugging Spidey to her chest, she mounted the stairs.

  She knocked on Josh’s door to announce her presence and tried the knob. The door wouldn’t budge. Josh was pressing his full weight against it. But she could hear the sound of his sobs through the thickness of the wood.

  Her eyes welled with tears and she pressed her hand to her mouth, resenting Reese for hurting Josh in this way. She prayed the emotional scars wouldn’t last a lifetime. “Honey, let me in, please,” she said softly.

  She heard a muffled, “No.”

  Laney crouched down on her knees. “At least open the door a bit so I can give you Spidey.”

  “I don’t want Spidey anymore. I don’t want anything Dad gave me.”

  Laney’s heart melted and her arms ached to hold him. “Oh Josh, I know this is confusing. This may seem hard to understand, but parents don’t always act like adults, even though they are adults. Sometimes they make mistakes and do things that seem very selfish. I don’t think your father purposefully meant to hurt you or us. And I honestly think he contacted me because he missed us. Missed you.”