I held him tight, my arms around him, my legs bent, feet in the bed, thighs pressed to his hips, and I traced his lower lip with my tongue, thinking Nina was right.
Rolling the dice was a good thing to do.
I barely finished this thought when Ham unexpectedly pulled out and rolled off, settling on his back.
I blinked into the dark in surprised confusion.
Something about this was not right. Ham was affectionate, especially in bed. He never pulled out until he had no choice. He caressed, cuddled, nuzzled, nipped, licked, kissed, whispered.
He’d never pulled out and rolled away.
I shifted to my side, preparing to lift up on a forearm and reach out to him but I froze solid when he spoke.
“Got a taste for your fuck toy, babe, at least let me roll on a goddamned condom before you use me to find it.”
Oh shit, part one. We didn’t use protection.
This wasn’t exactly bad. I was on The Pill but Ham always used protection.
And oh shit, part everything. He thought I’d used him as a fuck toy?
“Ham?” I called, beginning to reach out but he rolled off the bed and started through the shadows to the bathroom.
He did this speaking.
“That was fuckin’ awesome. Mood strikes you, you know where I am.” He stopped at the bathroom door and turned to me. “But I sleep alone, baby, and we’re done tonight so do me a favor and find your bed.”
After delivering that, the bathroom door closed behind him.
Evidence was suggesting that maybe I shouldn’t have rolled the dice.
My body was hot everywhere and not in good ways. I was scared, worried, and I had no clue what to do. I had no clue why Ham reacted like that.
I just knew, when he got out of the bathroom, he didn’t want me in his bed.
So I jumped out of it, snatched up my panties, found my nightgown, ran naked to my own room, and closed the door.
* * *
For the next two days I avoided Ham as best I could, seeing as we lived and worked together.
During the days, this was easy. I got the hell out of the condo and stayed out until I went to work.
At work, Ham helped. He seemed just as happy to avoid me as I did him and, luckily, Jake was working so Ham stayed distant any time I approached the bar and I used Jake.
Driving to The Dog myself and Ham being the manager and not picking up any blondes, he stayed later. When he was my ride, I usually hung out while he dealt with shit. Now, I used it as a way to get home and behind my bedroom door before he got home.
It was the second night, lying in bed, hearing him come home and close the door to his room, that I understood what had happened with Ham.
Greg and I, in the beginning, had a good sex life. It wasn’t as good as Ham but then, unfortunately for Greg and bitchily for me, nothing about Greg was.
After we were married, when I was losing myself and the distance was forming between us, the sex went bad. We had it but we had it in a way where we had it only, it seemed, because we were supposed to.
Greg got off entirely, my guess, due to biology.
I never did.
So with that and with the fact I hadn’t had a man in some time, I lost myself in what I was doing, what was happening, and the fact it was Ham.
And he would know I lost myself.
I’d never done that with him. I could lose myself in sex with him but it was always with him. I never rode him like that. Usually, when I was on top, I was bent to him, touching him, kissing him, nuzzling him. Or he was sitting up, doing all that to me.
The other night, I didn’t use him to get off. I knew who I was riding.
But I could see how he didn’t think the same.
I could also see how that could piss him off.
I’d walked to his room in the dead of night, scared him, came onto him, and rode him to climax without even discussing protection and stupidly not using it.
It was a shit thing to do.
I’d fucked up and I needed to do what he did when he was out of line.
I needed to apologize so we could get past it.
I also needed to do it soon. We lived together. We worked together. If there were different-sized elephants in rooms, ours was one of the biggest. If I didn’t sort this out, we’d both be smushed.
“No time like the present,” I muttered, throwing back the covers and, with determination, walking to his room.
He wouldn’t be asleep. He’d just gotten home.
Though there was no light coming from under his door and no answer when I lightly knocked.
I sucked in a breath, opened the door to dark, and stuck my head in.
“Ham?”
“What?”
Damn. That wasn’t inviting.
I considered backtracking, telling him we’d talk later or just saying, “Nothing,” and getting the hell out of there.
I didn’t do that.
I slowly walked in and went to the side of his bed where I could see the shadow of his body.
I stopped close and started to speak.
“I know it’s late but we… eeeek!”
The “eek” came when Ham’s hand darted out, latched onto my wrist, and yanked me off my feet so I fell on him then he rolled us both so he was on top and I was pinned under him.
Then he kissed me.
Not thinking, not for an instant, I kissed him back.
We didn’t do this very long but we did it very well. So well I was completely lost in him when he broke the kiss and growled, “Tonight you get my mouth. Nightgown off, cookie.”
If there was a world record for getting a nightgown off, I was sure I beat it as I yanked mine up and over my head.
While I did, Ham slid down me, hooked a finger in the side of my panties, and tore them down my legs. He barely got them clear and tossed away before his hands went to the backs of my knees. He lifted them, spread them wide, settled, and his mouth was on me.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, my head pressing into the mattress, my legs tensing, my sex spasming against his mouth.
He could do this, Ham could. He got off on it like I got off on taking him in my mouth.
But this was different.
This was like our kiss the other night. His mouth was hungry, greedy, desperate. He sucked my clit. He fucked me with his tongue. He nipped the juncture of my thigh with his teeth, making me whimper, then he came back to me and gave me more. All the while his big, rough hands held my bent legs high and spread wide.
It was magnificent.
So much so, I came in his mouth, moaning, whimpering, my fingers fisted in his hair to hold him to me.
I was nowhere near done when he was gone, for too long, and before I could come down and figure it out, he was back, covering me, his cock slamming inside me.
“Yes,” I breathed, wrapping my arms and legs around him, shoving my face in his neck.
He thrust hard and fast and grunted in mine.
“Yes, baby,” I panted and one of his hands slid down my side, in, over my belly, and then his thumb was right there. “Ham!” I gasped, my entire body jolting as his touch seared through me.
“You’re comin’ with me,” he grunted into my neck.
“Baby, that’s… it’s too…” I panted then a new climax rolled through me and I whispered, “Ham.”
“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, burying himself inside me, his hips deep and planted, the rest of his big, heavy body jerking as he came.
I descended from the high, my body melting into his bed, my arms softening around him.
Ham nuzzled my neck with his nose and lips.
I closed my eyes.
I held his weight. He held me, stayed planted inside me, his mouth moving on my neck for a long time before his hand slid up my body between us, up my neck. He swept my lips with his thumb and his lips came to my jaw where he kissed me.
Then he pulled out, rolled off, exited the bed, and sauntered to the bathroom.
<
br /> I exited the bed, too, grabbed my stuff, and ran naked to my room.
I pulled on jeans, shirt, boots, grabbed my keys and purse and ran to the front door, through it, and straight to my car.
* * *
I spent the night in Carnal Hotel.
I woke up to three missed calls and a voice mail, all from Ham.
I’d turned my phone to mute.
I didn’t listen to the voice mail.
I went into super-sleuth mode. That was to say, I staked out our parking lot and dashed into the condo when I saw Ham head out for his run.
He did this later than usual.
I knew why because I had two more missed calls from him.
I dashed up to our place, took the fastest shower in history, tugged on new clothes, grabbed some stuff to get ready for work with, and drove back to Carnal Hotel where I’d paid for two nights and where I intended to hide out, and since the owners seemed like really nice people and they had a heated pool, I decided to do this maybe forever.
* * *
As I knew with the phone calls he wouldn’t, Ham did not assist me in avoiding him that night when I got to work.
I had confirmation of that when his eyes came right to me when I hit the floor from the back where the staff parked their cars and stowed their stuff in the office.
I looked away immediately and grabbed a tray off the end of the bar, which was luckily opposite to where Ham was.
I needed to find out which section I’d be covering tonight. To do that, I moved toward Christie, my waitressing partner for the evening, and I had made it the length of three feet before an arm clamped around my ribs, I was hauled back into a hard frame, and a mouth was at my ear.
“Tonight, we talk.”
Oh hell.
“Okay, Ham,” I lied.
“Been worried sick about your ass all day,” he stated.
I said nothing.
“You avoid me at the bar, I’ll not be best pleased,” he warned.
“Copy that,” I replied, breathing heavily and not wanting to get my drink orders from him or even look at him until I figured out what the fuck was happening in my head, not to mention make a wild stab at what might be happening in his.
He gave me a sturdy squeeze so my heavy breathing got heavier then he touched his lips to my neck and let me go.
The lip touch was interesting.
It was also terrifying.
Even so, it felt beautiful.
I didn’t avoid him at the bar and I told myself that was my punishment. Although I didn’t avoid him, Ham didn’t push conversation. That didn’t mean he wasn’t watchful of me, his eyes moving over my face, studying me closely before filling my orders, making my anxiety increase tremendously.
At the beginning of the shift, things were not busy or even steady. So I got my drink orders from Ham but I did my best to stay busy and away from the bar. Away from Ham.
Luckily, it got busier and I didn’t have to find work to keep me occupied.
Finally, it was closing time.
Ham was talking to Christie and I took that opportunity to go get my purse, get in my car, and get my ass to Carnal Hotel.
I accomplished one of these goals. I got my purse and I got to my car but I didn’t get in it because, as I was standing beside it, digging through my purse, I couldn’t find my keys.
“Reece wants to talk to you, honey,” Christie told me as she made her way to her Hyundai.
Man, oh man.
“Okay,” I called, forcing brightness in my tone and, as she got in and I moved to the back door, I saw Ham lounging in its frame holding up what appeared to be my keys.
“Lookin’ for these?” he asked.
I stopped four feet away and didn’t answer.
He palmed the keys and shoved them in his jeans pocket.
“I’m your ride home tonight, cookie,” he informed me.
“My car is here,” I informed him.
“It’ll be safe.”
“I’m not sure it will, Ham. We’re not exactly in town.”
And we weren’t. There was good reason why The Dog was almost completely populated by locals—because they were the only ones who knew how to find it out here in the boonies.
“Got security cameras, babe, so even if your car is stolen, we’ll catch on film who did it and you got insurance. So it’s stayin’ here and I’m your ride.”
“I—” I started but Ham swiftly cut me off.
“You say another goddamned word, I’ll kiss you quiet, drag your ass into the office, fuck you on the goddamned desk, and do it until you’re so exhausted, you can’t speak and then we’ll talk seein’ as I’m the one who’s got somethin’ to say.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
Ham did not.
“Now either you open your mouth and get that or you keep it shut and ride home with me. Which is it gonna be?”
Although, in an alternate universe, I’d jump at option A, in this universe, I was definitely going with option B.
So I pressed my lips together and, just in case he couldn’t see that from where he was lounging in the doorway, I slid them to the side to make sure I made my point.
“Good fuckin’ choice,” he stated. “Now get your ass in here while I finish shit.”
He stepped to the side and I got my ass in there, squeezing by him, so I could wait it out while he finished shit.
Then, clearly, we were going home to talk.
And I was utterly terrified of what he had to say.
Chapter Eight
I Lied
We made the ride home in silence but I knew I couldn’t avoid the talk just as I knew I shouldn’t.
We had to get this out and move on.
And I knew how we were going to move on and that was me moving out and finding another job (again) because this was messed up.
I couldn’t live like this.
I’d tried but I’d rolled the dice and fucked it up.
I was in love with Ham. I had been since I was twenty-four. I probably would be forever.
So as he “finished shit” at the bar, I blanked my mind, stayed quiet, and waited.
The ride home was silent and tense. And when we got home, I moved to the living room, shrugged off my purse and jacket, and threw them on the armchair before I turned to sit my ass on the couch in order to get this done and prepare to move on.
Before I could make it to the couch, my hand was seized, my arm tugged, and I found myself being dragged behind Ham toward the hall.
“Ham—”
“Shut it five seconds, baby,” he told the hall, taking us on a direct trajectory to his room.
It took more than five seconds but I kept it shut the entire time, mostly because I was bemused, sad at the thought of losing Ham for good, and freaked way the hell out at the way Ham was acting. I was also wondering why I managed to always fuck up my life. I had no one else to blame but me about everything.
And especially this.
I knew better than to move in with him. I way knew better than to go to him that first night.
But I did.
Now we were broken, just like I broke Greg.
Ham was right, Greg knew me. He knew who he’d married, so I’d come to uneasy terms with that being not exactly all my fault.
This, I had no leg to stand on.
When we got to his room, Ham switched on a bedside lamp, used his hand in mine to maneuver me to the bed, and then let me go to put his hand in my belly. He gave me a little shove so I was sitting on his bed.
I looked up at him. “Ham—”
“Five more seconds, cookie,” he muttered as he bent, lifted my leg, yanked off my boot then he did the same with the other.
After that, he straightened and shrugged off his jeans jacket, letting it drop to the floor. He then stooped to take off his own boots and only after that did he come to me, plant his hands under my arms, and haul me into the bed so I was on my back, head to the pillows.
I belate
dly started breathing heavily when he put a knee to the bed, hiked his other leg over me, and settled his big body mostly on me, partly to my side.
He put his elbow in the pillow, head in hand, and locked eyes with me.
That was when he asked, “What the fuck was that?”
My mind was now blanked for a different reason, primarily freaking way the hell out that we were having this conversation in his bed, so I didn’t know what he was asking.
Even if I wasn’t freaking, I still would be confused.
Therefore, I asked, “What the fuck was what?”
“Last night,” he answered. “I go to the bathroom to get rid of the condom, come out, you’re gone. By the time I make it to the door, buck naked, mind, I see you dressed and runnin’ down the hall. Seein’ as I’m buck naked, I can’t get to you before you disappear. You’re gone all night, don’t answer your phone, don’t answer it all fuckin’ day. I’m worried sick, you stroll into the bar, and then you’re beyond weird at work.”
I stared into his eyes, marveling how the light brown at his pupils spiked through the dark brown that edged his irises. I’d never seen anything like that and it was all kinds of fascinating because it was all kinds of gorgeous.
I did this memorizing it because, soon, I wouldn’t see it again.
Then I focused not on the color of his eyes, but him.
“I need to move out,” I whispered and his body seemed to grow heavier on mine as his eyebrows snapped together.
“What the fuck?”
“I need to move out,” I repeated, louder this time. “And, um, give notice.”
“What the fuck?” he said again, pissed this time, then he bit out, “For fuck’s sake, why?”
“Why?” I asked.
He had to know.
“Yeah, babe, why?”
He didn’t know.
“I can’t do this,” I told him. “I can’t be like we are now. I can’t be roomies.”
“Yeah, your sweet, hot, middle-of-the-night visit clued me in to that. Or, I should say, your sweet, hot, long-fuckin’-overdue visit clued me in to that.”
I felt my lips part as my eyes went from looking into his to staring.
“What?” I breathed.
“Zara, for nearly two months, I’ve been waitin’ for you to come to me.”
What did he just say?
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