by Jen Doyle
She jumped when his hand went to her hip at the same time she felt his mouth at her neck, sending the most delicious shivers running up and down her spine. Then he pulled his head away—pulled his whole body away, his hand holding her in place when she tried to stay with him.
“No,” he murmured. “Let me look at you.”
Up on one elbow, he did that very thing, letting his fingers trail slowly up the side of her. Up past her waist, to the underside of her breast, over the peak up to her neck and then her chin, which he tipped up as he leaned forward and kissed her, lingering in a way that had her nervous about what was coming next.
Sure enough, when he pulled away again and rolled over to his back, he brought his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. “Christ, Fitz. The disappearing act is getting old.”
Since she didn’t have a good answer to that, or an excuse, she stayed quiet, resting her chin on her hands and concentrating hard on the headboard. The headboard that had gorgeously intricate scroll work, yet was so sturdy you could probably...
“Oh, my God,” she gasped, her head coming up as she studied it. “You use that for handcuffs, don’t you?”
With a glare, he snapped, “Can we maybe focus?”
No, she realized. Not with the idea of that in her head. She found it appealing in a way that frightened her a little.
“Fitz.”
“Right,” she said. “Focusing.” Tearing her gaze away from the headboard only to find that he was staring at her with an intensity that got her all hot and bothered again. “What?”
With a visible attempt to shake off whatever had just been running through his head, he unfortunately came back to, “So is this the plan? You won’t talk to me for days at a time and then it will be all, ‘Get inside me’?”
“Well, you did say I should tell you what I wanted...” she offered.
She deserved the next glare he gave her. She deserved all of it. But she wasn’t playing games. She was just trying desperately to figure out if she could have him like this but still be friends.
Yes, she had stayed away, as he clearly knew. The work stuff hadn’t been a lie. She really had been busy. But the conversation with Mr. Deacon and Mama Gin had spooked her. Not what they’d talked about specifically. As draining as that night had been, she’d felt strangely light ever since. It was more about how Deke had been. Or, rather, how she’d been with him and the strength she’d drawn from having him beside her. The way he’d known instinctively when to hold her and when to pull away.
It shook her. She took care of her. No one else. Allowing anyone else to step into that role went against everything she believed.
Not to mention that there was the job thing. There was nothing new on that front so it wasn’t like anything was imminent. But even that was overwhelming. On the one hand, she knew she should tell him. If they weren’t sleeping together she probably already would have. On the other hand, though, she wasn’t actually sure that was true. She had no interest in telling Wash or Jason. She’d even rather that Dorie and Nate didn’t know, to be honest. She was used to making decisions on her own. To living her life on her own. She didn’t want anyone else weighing in on something that was conflicting enough. Right now she was actually thinking everything was conflicting. So, well...
“I don’t want a boyfriend, Deke,” she got up her nerve to say. She didn’t. She honestly didn’t. Nothing in the last week had changed her mind about that. But as he sat up and swung his legs over, planting his feet on the floor and turning his back to her, she felt like her heart was actually breaking. She wanted him so much, and the thought of him walking away made her feel ill. So even knowing the risk she was taking—how badly it could go wrong and how much they had to lose if it did—she blurted out, “But that thing you said about every weekend, maybe every night?”
He looked at her over his shoulder as he pulled on a pair of sweats, all the while staring directly into her eyes, something she found a bit unnerving. After a pause, he said, “I’m listening.”
Sitting up, she held the sheet up against her chest. “What if we kept it like this?” Spent their nights as lovers, their days as friends. “Then when we’re done with the sex part,” she added, ignoring his frown, “we don’t need to worry about breaking up the band. Or, you know, anyone making a big deal of it.” Because people would talk. They always did. Since he didn’t actually protest, though, she pushed forward. “There’s just one thing.”
Giving her absolutely nothing to help her gauge what his reaction was to what she was saying, he merely nodded for her to keep going.
More nervous than she thought she’d be, her words came out in a little bit of a rush. With her heart pounding hard, she forced herself to keep going. “I need to know you won’t be sleeping with...” Okay, so she couldn’t actually say the name Peggy Miller while she was sitting here naked in his bed, and she certainly didn’t want to think about Peggy being in it, too, so she instead ended with, “...other women.” And anyway, that seemed a more reasonable request.
But he was quiet for so long she actually began to wonder. She even steeled herself for the answer that she was shit out of luck. So it kind of stunned her when he said, “Until that day in the Jeep, I hadn’t had sex in six months.”
Um... “Did you say...?”
“Yep.” He laughed as he stood up, glancing down at her briefly before going over to the windows and sitting in one of the leather chairs. He rested his head along the back, stretched his legs out in front of him. “Six months.”
“But Peggy’s always saying...” Well, hell. What didn’t she say?
“Peggy and I have always had a difference of opinion in terms of what our relationship actually is.” He turned and made sure his eyes connected with Fitz’s as he added, “And be assured, whatever it was is over as far as I’m concerned,” as if he knew she actually needed to hear the words. But then he turned back and looked out at the moon, leaning forward as he rested his elbows on his knees. “I want you more than I want my next breath. I don’t know why or how it changed. And I know we’re skating on thin ice. But you mean more to me than any other woman I’ve ever known. My promise still stands. I have faith in us no matter what else happens. What’s between us won’t ever change.”
Oh.
Fitz sat back against the headboard and stared at him.
Well.
“How can you do that?” she asked, truly wanting to know. “Be so sure that it will be okay once all is said and done.”
He looked up at her, his hair golden in the moonlight. “That’s the definition of faith, Angel.”
It was like she could feel the pieces locking into place. His belief was so strong, she could actually let it carry her along. For now, at least.
Tucking the sheet around her, she went to him, pushing herself between his legs. Wary, he looked up at her and sat up a little straighter.
“So,” she said, “I guess the whole throw down I was imagining with all those other women was kind of unnecessary.”
His jaw twitched. “Well, that all depends on how far you were willing to go. Was wrestling involved?”
Laughing, she shook her head. “I’m not a big fan of unitards.”
Reaching his hand out to her, he smiled. “I was thinking more along the lines of Jell-O.” He brought her down against him, curling her into his lap. “Wet T-shirt contests are also good. And, you know, you have the most perfect breasts.”
She was so surprised by that statement she didn’t even realize he’d pulled the sheet down so he could touch them. Except then he rolled her nipples between his fingers and a groan escaped her throat before she could say anything in response.
As soon as she recovered, she straddled him. It appeared he had recovered as well. Plus he’d totally been lying about not having condoms everywhere.
“T
hat’s not what I said,” he replied when she questioned him. “They’re just not out in the kitchen. I’ve never needed to be prepared out there.”
“So I’m supposed to believe you’ve never had counter sex before.”
“You have a seriously skewed view of my sex life,” he muttered.
Disappointed, she asked, “So no handcuffs, either?”
He went still. “Well let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”
It wasn’t until much later, when they were back in bed and drifting off to sleep that she said, “So I guess we’re doing this.”
He took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. “Yeah. I guess we are.”
Faith, she told herself. Believe.
Resting her head on his chest, Fitz closed her eyes. She had no idea what this would mean to their friendship. She had even less of an idea what would happen if this Sam Price thing actually happened. But for the first time in all the nights since they’d first kissed, she had exactly what she wanted in her arms.
Chapter Twenty-Three
So, the devil said, from his perch up on top of Lola’s refrigerator. Why haven’t we thought of this before?
Referring, of course, to the regular and monogamous arrangement Deke and Fitz had been managing for over a week now with no one being the wiser, possibly the first true relationship Deke had ever had. Fitz, too, he thought, although there was no way in hell he was raising that as a topic of discussion.
Deke opened the fridge and took out a carton of orange juice. Lola had taken the kids over to their parents’ house for a final sleepover before the big RV trip, so she wasn’t here to yell at him for not using a glass. He was in the middle of drinking from it when Fitz walked in the room, decked out in, well, it wasn’t a suit, but it was definitely more formal than he was used to seeing her wear for their Iowa Dream Foundation board meetings. And she’d never been quite so out of control sexy. At least not that he’d ever noticed before. A light blue button-down shirt that seemed to be tailored to every curve, and a short gray skirt. And heels. High, high heels.
Va. Va. Voom, the devil said.
“You’re wearing that tonight?” Deke asked, putting the carton down on the counter beside him.
“Why?” she asked. “What’s wrong with this?” Then she frowned and held up her hand with that, Oh, no, you don’t finger and look on her face. She said, in fact, “Do not for one second think that because we’re sleeping together you get to—”
She had absolutely no clue. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to him, ignoring her squealed, “Deke!”
“What’s wrong is that I’m going to sit through that whole freaking meeting with a hard-on.” His hand on her ass, he pulled her right up against him to demonstrate the issue.
“Oh,” she said, her cheeks taking on a little extra pink as she looked away. “That is a problem.” Reaching down, she took him in hand and he may have growled a little. “I actually have a fix for that.”
“Do you now?” He backed her up against the counter and lifted her to it.
Her breath caught as he stepped in close, coming right up against her. She leaned back on her hands and looked up at him with such innocence it was almost as if she didn’t know he was suddenly aching to bend down and take a quick nip or two at the bounty she’d offered up. “It might involve handcuffs,” she said.
This time he definitely growled. He dropped down into a crouch.
She, in turn, straightened up. “What are you doing?” she asked, laughing, but wary.
“This’ll just take a minute.” He spread her legs, flipped up her skirt, and went for the panties.
“Deke!” she squealed again, her hand going down to stop him, but she was too late, catching the back of his head instead.
“That’s right,” he murmured, nuzzling the inside of her thigh as her fingers tightened in his hair. He loved the softness of all that smooth skin almost as much as he loved the taste of her. He propped one of her legs over his shoulders. “You just hold on.” And he took his first, long taste.
“Oh, my God,” she sighed. “We don’t have time for this.” But the muscles in her thighs went slack as she tilted her hips up toward his mouth.
Glancing at her stretched up above him, he smiled as she fell back, her arms going out to either side along the breakfast bar, the counter handily behind her. It hit her right at the shoulders, though, so it made her back arch up as her head dropped back.
He needed her breast in his hand. Needed to feel the weight of it. And since he did have a lot of practice, he was able to reach his hand up, unbutton her shirt and push the cup of her bra aside, all while delving his tongue in deeper.
She moaned as he flicked his thumb back and forth across her nipple. “It should...” she gasped. “Oh... It should... Bother me...” She gasped again. “That you are so freakishly good at this.” She palmed the back of his head and held him hard against her. “But right now I can’t seem to ca...” Her voice trailed off into a full out groan.
He pressed in farther, holding her hips in place so that he controlled her movement, something she seemed to like a lot if the increasing urgency of her pleas were any indication.
“I like the way you beg,” he said, pulling back enough for her to feel him speak the words. Also how she completely gave herself over to him, although he was afraid to think it, much less say it, because it would probably freak her out. So instead he nipped at her clit, nuzzled one or two more times to switch things up, and then released her hips so she could go wild as he took her over the edge.
And she did. Go wild as he took her over the edge. Fuck, he loved that extra rush of sweetness when she came.
She collapsed back against the counter behind her. With one breast exposed and her chest heaving as she gulped in breaths of air, she looked so utterly fuckable he almost dropped trou and went all the way. She even whined a little as she looked down at him.
But she had to get to the library and he wanted to take his time. No matter what, he was going to have a hard time watching her up at the head of the table all night, so either way he’d need to hold himself back from going all feral and laying her out in front of everyo—
“Fitz, are you okay? I thought I heard someone... It sounded like a scream.”
It went against every one of Deke’s instincts not to shoot up at the sound of Lola’s voice from the hallway. But he was still in a crouch and the breakfast bar separated him from her, and given where and how Fitz was sitting, it would be entirely clear what he’d just done to her.
Which might not be the worst of things, as far as he was concerned.
Fitz, of course, didn’t concur.
“Lola?” she said, her head whipping around. She’d gotten her bra back on, but it was pretty obvious she was buttoning up her shirt. “I, uh... What are you doing here?”
“I forgot my jacket,” Lola answered, her voice coming closer.
Fitz was down off the counter so fast that Deke felt the breeze. He yanked her panties from off the floor where Lola might see them and shoved them into his pocket as Fitz walked around to the front of the breakfast bar and then past it, presumably so that Lola wouldn’t come far enough around to see him sitting there.
Sure enough, it sounded as though Lola had stopped over by the dining room table as she added, “Jules and I are going out tonight after the meeting and I think it’s supposed to rain.” Being Lola, however, she wasn’t deterred from her original line of questioning. “Were you, uh, crying?”
Hell, yeah, she was.
“What?” Fitz asked, so flustered that she was totally about to give them away all on her own. They were going to need to work on that if she wanted to keep this a secret. “Uh, no. Vocal exercises. You know, to get ready for the presentation tonight.”
Then she made some ridiculous nois
es that sounded like the horrible impression of an opera singer that they were.
The devil and angel recoiled in horror. That was awful, the angel said.
Yep. They were definitely going to need to work on her evasive techniques. He sat back against the fridge and rested his arms on his knees.
“Your shirt’s not buttoned right.” Lola had actually been an expert at evasive techniques back in the day. Deke was pretty sure she and Dave had actually had sex in the pantry during her eighteenth birthday party—while his mother was in the kitchen lighting the candles on the cake. He wouldn’t put it past her to call them out right now.
Fitz was getting her act together, though, smoothly saying, “Oh, my God. Thanks. I spilled juice on my other shirt—that totally must have been the scream you heard—and had to make a last-minute change. That would have been so crazy embarrassing. Just like me, huh?”
It wasn’t. Apart from Jules, Fitz was the most put together person they all knew. Part of why he’d had no clue there was so much buried underneath that shell of hers. Lola, however, decided not to comment on that.
“I’m glad you guys are coming to the meeting, by the way,” Fitz said, steamrolling right past it. “You know we have dinner for you and everything, right?”
“Yes.” Deke could hear the smile in Lola’s voice. Because, well... “We’re catering it.”
Oh, man. As good as outed, Deke was about to stand up when Lola gently said, “Are you sure everything’s okay? I know you and Jules haven’t always been the closest, but it’s an open invitation for you to join us at any time. You know that, right?”
If Deke hadn’t been riding on such a high from the taste still on his lips, his heart might have broken a little bit at the way Fitz’s voice faltered as she asked, “What?”
