by Vivian Arend
If it came down to having to say what she really wanted, she might as well be honest.
It seemed to be the right answer because Troy swore softly. He covered her lips with his and restarted the motion of his thumb. Pleasure, tight but growing, spiraled deep in her core. She held onto him, the heat of his naked torso passing to her palms as she stroked, undulating against him as best she could.
Little noises escaped her throat as she closed in on a climax, but right before she went over, Troy jerked his hand away.
The protest on her lips died as she heard a condom wrapper rip open, and faster than she thought possible, he had lifted her bare leg over his hip, opening her to him.
His cock pressed against her sex, and Troy rocked between her legs a couple of times. She balanced on one leg, reaching down to guide his now-wet erection to where she desperately needed it.
A second later he pushed forward, thick heat stretching her, desire rising fast. He was panting, strong fingers reaching to catch hold of her ass as he lifted her into the perfect position and thrust forward all the way.
“Troy.” How she held back from screaming, she wasn’t sure. Nicole wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight as he pulled his hips back.
Slow motion at first. Every inch of him sliding deep, every inch pulling away. Over and over, like he’d promised. The room was pitch dark, with the faint sound of music from the party drifting through the thick door. Far louder was the sound of their bodies slapping together as Troy increased his speed.
Their breathing echoed like the beat of a drum. The trembling moan of pleasure on her lips became a melody line. A low sound of satisfaction rumbled deep in Troy’s chest.
And over it all, pure, sweet pleasure hovered just out of reach.
Troy adjusted position, leaning her against the door again, but this time when he thrust, his body dragged over her clit perfectly, and Nicole saw stars against the darkness.
“That. Do that again,” she begged.
For once in his bloody life, Troy listened. He fucked her hard, and deep, and relentlessly until her whole world was reduced to the cock driving into her sex, and the white wall of pleasure breaking over her.
Her sex clenched. Troy gasped, shuddering to a halt. He jerked her leg even higher, pressing deeper. His cock seemed to grow thicker, wrenching another wave of climax from her body as she squeezed his heavy length.
Aftershocks struck in series, each one arching her toward him helplessly. Troy held her steady, whispering soft words as he stroked her heated skin. Careful fingers caressed the side of her face followed by the back of his knuckles trailing down her neck and over her breasts.
Silence rang in her ears.
The scent of cleaners grew heavier as their breathing slowed, and she was left in that satisfied and content postcoital state he was so good at getting her to. Troy carefully lowered her leg to the floor before pressing his lips to hers for a tender kiss, far gentler than they’d shared yet that night.
She held his neck and kissed him back, sighing sadly as he pulled away to deal with the condom.
He chuckled softly. “Damn, I forgot. There’s no light switch in here.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve been in here before.” Nicole turned to the door and ran a hand up and down the wall beside it. “Weird.”
“Yeah, it’s on the outside. I remember playing hide and seek in the house when I was little. You okay to get dressed in the dark?”
“Well, I’m not about to haul ass into the hallway and get dressed out there,” she muttered, the reality of what they’d done sinking in.
Guilt arrived first, followed by disappointment.
As good as the sex had been, she wasn’t supposed to be fooling around with Troy. And the idea of going back out and making small talk with Darrell for the rest of the evening—
She yanked her clothes into place. Silently, because there wasn’t really anything she could say. It wasn’t Troy’s fault. It was her own, and now she had to deal with the consequences.
Being responsible was turning out to be a royal pain in the butt.
She was reaching for the door when his strong hands caught her hips.
“Are you mad?” Troy asked, no teasing in his voice.
Nicole hesitated. Blaming him would be nice, but it wouldn’t be honest. “No.”
Maybe she would’ve said more, but the door opened behind her, swinging inward. Troy jerked her out of the way, pulling her against him and the back wall as light streamed in from the hall.
A very shocked Laurel stood framed in the doorway, glancing back and forth between the two of them. Her new friend blinked a couple of times before her lips twitched. “I think this is one of those moments when synchronicity exceeds serendipity.”
Something suspiciously like a snort escaped Troy. “Can I get you anything? A mop? Dutch cleanser?”
“Full-service closets. They do have everything in this house.” Laurel held out a hand, pointing to one side. “Extra paper towels, please. They’re on that shelf to your right.”
Troy turned to grab the towels, and Nicole took the opportunity to escape, dodging past Laurel and unashamedly hiding behind her.
The instant the paper towels were in her friend’s hand, Nicole took off, grabbing her other hand and tugging her down the hallway the opposite direction from the kitchen. They ducked into a bathroom, Nicole double-checking no one, i.e., Troy, was following them before turning to face Laurel.
Her new friend stood patiently, her hint of a smile so much less condemning than it should be.
“You okay?” Laurel asked.
Nicole breathed a sigh of relief, even as a dull pain began pounding in her head. “I’m an idiot. That’s pretty much the entire explanation.”
Laurel shook her head. “You don’t need to explain, but if you need a hand, let me know.”
Damn it. Nicole kicked her own butt. Not only was she an idiot for letting herself get carried away with Troy, now she was going to be even ruder, because there was no way she was going back to her date.
“Could you let Darrell know I…”
I just fucked someone else, and the party is over? Gee, that would go over well.
Her new friend interrupted her mulling. “I’ll tell him you had to go home. The simpler, the better, I think.”
“I guess,” Nicole agreed.
“Also, I don’t like lying,” Laurel admitted. “I’m not very good at it.”
Nicole impulsively offered a hug, which Laurel returned hesitantly, patting her back gently before slipping out with a soft admonition for Nic to take care of herself.
She glanced into the mirror, horrified to discover what would have been obvious to Laurel and anyone else who saw her. Her lips were swollen from Troy’s kisses, her cheeks flushed. She’d gotten all her clothes back on, but it sure looked as if she’d gotten dressed in the dark after a very thorough fucking.
But the worst thing was her eyes shone with satisfaction far more than guilt. Nicole swore as she turned away. At least her body could have the decency of sharing her internal struggle, but it seemed she was too sated to be decent.
It hadn’t been boring, her brain pointed out.
Fuck off, she muttered at herself.
Chapter Five
After a night like that she should have ended up wracked with guilt, focused on how terrible she’d been to drop all her convictions and get involved, again, with Troy.
Nope. Nicole slept like the dead, totally relaxed in dreamless slumber until her sister Cyndi phoned at nine a.m. and invited her for lunch. That gave her three hours to spend power cleaning her tiny house, burning through the guilt that finally arrived with a vengeance.
Sure, Troy had provoked her, but she’d poked back. If she wanted to change her life, she had to stop taking the bait. No matter how tasty it looked.
Damn the man for being so tasty.
She stopped on the way to her sister’s to buy some celebratory flowers at the local shop
on Main Street. “With extra carnations and baby’s breath, please.”
“It’ll be about fifteen minutes,” the florist warned. “I’ve got three bouquets to finish up in time for a wedding, but if you want to come back at the top of the hour, I’ll have yours ready.”
“No problem.”
It meant she had time to wander down the sidewalk and window shop. Peek in at the shoe store. Slip into the hardware store and buy a lawn sprinkler/soaker hose thing for her nephews to enjoy over the summer.
She paused outside the Stitching Post Quilting Shop, staring at the display in the window of summer-toned baby quilts with appliqued teddy bears and brightly coloured balloons.
The last time she’d sewn was years ago in Home Ec, and she’d gotten a B minus on her sturdy cotton apron. No way should she be tempted to buy anything that required more handwork than a stapler or duct tape could solve.
She turned toward the street, a strange itch between her shoulders. As if she was being watched…
It had to be her imagination. Nicole shook it off and decided she might as well give in. She slipped into the store, a small chime overhead announcing her arrival.
Warm colours greeted her, along with two smiling faces, one familiar, one not.
“Hi, Nic.” Hope Coleman rose from where she was cutting out large circles of fabric, and the dark-haired stranger moved to take her place. “Are you here to pick up Jodie’s purse? She forgot it last night after the quilting session.”
“I wasn’t, but I can take it. I’ll drop it off on my way to lunch.”
Hope disappeared into a small room off the back, returning with a well-worn and very sturdy purse the size of a grocery shopping bag.
Nic laughed. “How on earth did Jodie forget she had that with her?”
“You’d be amazed what gets left behind at the end of an evening.” Hope offered a smile. “So, if that’s not what brought you in, are you looking for something specific?”
“Not sure.” Awkward. “What’s the simplest baby quilt you’ve got?”
Hope crooked a finger her way. “Come with me, my pretty. I’ve got just the thing for you.”
“You’re scaring me,” Nicole warned, both of them laughing.
The bell rang again, and they turned to the door. Troy Thompson strolled in as if him fabric shopping was the most natural thing in the world. His gaze drifted over the store content until it landed on her and Hope, his face brightening as if he’d won the lottery.
“Well, what a surprise.”
“To find Hope in her quilt shop?” Nicole deadpanned. “Nice try, Thompson.”
“Hush,” Hope mock whispered. “What’s up, Troy?”
“Looking for a…what did you call it last time? A ragtime quilt kit.”
Hope’s face lit up. “Another one?”
“Yup.”
She looked delighted, as if what he’d said made any sense in English, motioning with her head toward the far side of the store. “This way.”
He followed obediently, and Nicole found herself admiring the way he prowled through the tall narrow shelves, long and lean as he closed the distance between them.
Hope had vanished by the time he reached her side, and Nicole stood there, mesmerized, staring into Troy’s face. His laughing eyes flashed, a hint of shadow darkening his jawline.
“You didn’t shave.” What a stupid comment to make. Why had she even noticed?
“Nope.” He caught her hand and rubbed her knuckles against his scruff. “Like it?”
She snatched her hand away. “No.”
Yes. Oh God, yes.
Her body buzzed, the desire to have him rub his face all over her naked skin far too strong.
“Nic. You come as well. This is what I was going to show you.”
Hope’s words made her blink, breaking the siren spell he’d cast over her. Troy just smiled his wicked, tempting smile and motioned her forward.
Somehow she ended up leaving the shop with a kit to make a baby quilt. A matching one to what Troy had purchased after talking knowledgeably with Hope about seam allowances and backstitching.
Nicole felt a little dazed. Maybe she hadn’t slept as well last night as she’d thought.
“How do you know so much about quilting?” she demanded.
Troy shrugged. “Hope gave us lessons a few years back—the year she set up the charity-quilt thing. Even my dad chipped in.”
“And now you quilt just for shits and giggles?”
He laughed. “No. The last time Katy got pregnant I saw her eyeing these things and figured it was a shiny enough gift for the auspicious occasion.”
Nicole eyed him, gears turning, not quite believing it. “You made a quilt.”
“Uh-huh. It’s pretty simple. I can give you a hand with yours, if you want. Sounds as if Cyndi and Katy are expecting about the same time.”
Now it made more sense. “You’re making another quilt because Katy’s pregnant.”
One of his brows rose. “You feeling okay?”
No, now that he mentioned it. She was confused, and annoyed, and the proud owner of a bunch of material she was pretty much obligated to struggle with sometime over the next eight months.
Life was peachy.
“You want to grab a bite?” Troy asked, tossing his shopping bag into the back of his truck, which was parked right outside the shop.
Nicole shook her head, walking quickly toward the flower shop. “I’m headed to Cyndi’s.”
“Pass on my congrats,” he said. “What about supper?”
She jerked to a stop, turning to look him over carefully. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” His smile widened. “Want me to prove it?”
Jeez, she’d walked into that one. Nicole pinched the bridge of her nose. “Troy, we’re not doing this. It’s over.”
“That’s what you said before. I enjoyed it being over. I look forward to it being over again, since ‘over’ is your new code word for sex.”
“It’s not a code word for anything, you jackass,” she shouted, pulling back in time before she swung her quilt kit at his head. She whirled on her heel and took off, not trusting herself to say anything more without shrieking.
Of course he followed. She couldn’t get away from him, even if she tried.
He would have followed her into the flower shop except she deliberately pulled him to the side to try one last time. “Troy. Last night was…”
He opened his mouth, and she pressed a finger over his lips.
“No. No talking.”
He tried a slow, burning smolder instead.
Nicole prayed for patience. “No trying to seduce me. And no licking my finger,” she said even as his lips opened.
He smiled wryly. “You’re no fun today.”
See, her brain pounced on his announcement. Told you. Boring.
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
She took a deep breath. “I had a blast last night, but it’s not going to happen again. I mean it, so you need to move on and get out of my face.”
He stood there like a muscular wall, looking down at her with those dark eyes that were far too astute—seeing clear inside her to where confusion continued to roil.
This needed to happen. The weight of the bag in her hands steadied her resolve. If she wanted someone to eventually make a baby quilt for her, she needed to leave her wild ways behind.
“Please.” She sounded desperate, even to her own ears, but she didn’t know what else to say.
His smile faded, and the teasing, tormenting Troy vanished. He looked as serious as she’d ever seen him.
Silence hung on the air between them, then he dipped his chin. “Okay. Okay, you’re right. I’ll see you ’round.”
His fingers ghosted over her cheek, a soft, lingering caress a second before he turned and walked away.
It should have felt like a victory, but she had no energy to cheer. Something inside her seemed to have broken, and sharp edges were poking into her gut,
making it tough to breathe.
Brilliant, her brain taunted.
She didn’t have the energy to tell herself to shut up.
The next week disappeared, and the next, although Troy would have been hard-pressed to give an account of what he’d done during the time.
No. He would have to admit to one thing. He’d found himself far too often doing a one-eighty when he discovered himself seconds away from interrupting Nicole.
He had a damn GPS tracker magically keyed in on her location. It was the most annoying thing in the world to turn the corner at the grocery store and discover her leaning a hip against the freezer compartment, chatting with some guy.
And every time he walked away, it left a foul taste in his mouth.
Didn’t matter if he spotted her doing something that made sense, like when he pulled into the gas station and found her getting help checking her tire pressure. It was completely above board for her to be wandering after Damon Jules, the thirty-something dude who owned the station, as he explained how to use the pressure gauge.
Although she should have just come down to the shop and let him or his brothers take care of it…
Troy focused on the rapidly clicking gas meter, ignoring the flirting going on twenty feet away from him. Damon was an okay guy, he guessed. Older. Serious. Ready to settle down, probably.
Only as far as Troy knew, Damon wasn’t much in the smarts department. Also, old old fashioned, as in he’d once made a comment about women and “their place” in the home. And while Nic might be looking to start a family, Troy couldn’t picture her being happy doing nothing but housekeeping and cooking for a husband who planned to come home at the end of every day, put his feet up and spend all evening watching TV.
That was the worst part. Bumping into her all the time meant he saw the guys she was dating, and none of them were right for her. Not that there was a huge selection of possibilities in the small town.
He sat in the café across from Mike, wondering if any guy in Rocky was good enough for her.
“You look like you’re going to get sick,” his friend taunted. “Doesn’t say much for the daily special.”
