The look Emma gave him as she slowly turned the notepad around gave him advance warning she was about to lay down the royal flush in this little game they’d been playing.
“Size really doesn’t matter,” she said in what sounded to him like a really loud voice.
Before he could say anything—and he had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth, but he had to say something—Cat appeared at the top of the stairs.
“I hate to break up the party,” she said, “but it’s getting late, so we’re calling it a night.”
Maybe Cat was, but Sean was just getting started.
If Gram wasn’t in the truck, Emma would have given Sean a ride home he’d never forget. As it was, she pushed it a little, enjoying his sucked-in breaths and the way his foot kept reaching for a brake pedal he didn’t have.
Because it was so late, Gram went right to bed and Sean followed her up the stairs. By the time Emma was done locking up, she heard snoring coming from her grandmother’s room as she paused on her way by.
Sean wasn’t snoring, but he was already in bed. He was on his back with his hands tucked under his head, scowling at the ceiling. Rather than give him time to grumble at her for driving like a girl, she went straight into the bathroom to clean up and get ready for bed.
In her hurry, though, she’d forgotten to grab her pajamas, which was a dilemma. She could either go out and get them and return to the bathroom to change, or she could go out there and put them on. If Sean didn’t like it, he didn’t have to watch.
After leaving the bathroom, she turned off the overhead light in the bedroom, but it didn’t do much good. The night was clear, the moon was bright and she knew she was all too visible when she undid her jeans and shimmied them down over her hips.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Changing into my pajamas.”
“You always do that in the bathroom.” His voice was low and rough, but she noticed he didn’t look away.
“I forgot them and there’s no point in going back in there.” She kicked off the jeans and was going to pull on the shorts before changing shirts, but then she remembered his stupid answers to the stupid questions in that game and changed her mind.
“The point is that you don’t do it in front of me.”
“Oh, did you forget? Being watched turns me on.” And she pulled her T-shirt over her head.
She had to bite down on a surprised yelp once she was free of it because suddenly Sean was standing in front of her, wearing nothing but blue boxer briefs and a scowl. “You said I had no imagination.”
“And having no imagination is so much worse than your best friend’s family thinking you’re an exhibitionist.”
“And we’re not ever going to talk about the other thing you said. Ever.”
He was crowding her personal space, so she put her hands on his chest to push him back, but he caught her wrists. Standing there with her palms pressed against his naked skin, she could feel his heartbeat beating at a quickened pace that matched her own and she knew she had two choices. Walk away or end up in bed with him.
She leaned her body a little closer and splayed her fingers across his chest. “Which thing aren’t we talking about? The fast-food joint bathroom or—”
“Don’t push me too far, Emma. It’s been a long time for me.”
“How long?”
“Too damn long.” He lifted her hands from his chest, but didn’t let go of her wrists. “And I never even got to scope out the dating situation here before you showed up at my door with this half-ass scheme.”
“And since we…you haven’t…”
“The last thing I need is to get caught cheating on a woman I can’t tell anybody I’m not really in a relationship with.” His gaze dropped from her face to her lacy white bra and he sighed. “You’re killing me.”
“Lying awake on the couch every night, wondering what it would be like to slide into bed with you has been killing me for two weeks.”
“Yeah.” He let go of her wrists and slid his hands up the back of her neck and into her hair. “I’ve thought about that, too. A lot. Pretty much constantly, actually.”
“We’re two single adults. There’s no reason we have to suffer.”
He was pulling her slowly closer, his fingertips still massaging the back of her skull and she was starting to lose patience with the talking. She wanted more doing.
Sean apparently hadn’t turned that page yet. “This won’t change anything, Emma, so I don’t want you getting any ideas. The day we drive Cat to the airport, I’m moving on. This isn’t…real.”
“The orgasms will be real, right?”
“Very real. And numerous.”
“I’ll take it.”
With a deep, guttural groan, Sean pulled her face to his and claimed her mouth. It was a hard and demanding kiss, the way he’d kissed her on the makeshift football field earlier, but there was nothing quick about it. His tongue flicked across hers as one hand tightened in her hair.
With the other hand, he pulled her hips hard against his and she felt hard evidence she’d been so very, very wrong to imply he wasn’t blessed below the waist.
Her hands slid from his chest to his shoulders and then to his back, holding him to her because she never wanted him to stop kissing her. Then she squeezed him, holding tight as he reached down the backs of her thighs and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist.
A moment later he had her on the bed, his body covering hers and his erection nestled between her legs. She lifted her hips, urging him to get on with it, but he didn’t seem to be much in a hurry for a guy who said it had been a long time.
Then he lifted his head and looked down into her face. “Before we go any further, one more thing.”
She groaned. “Seriously?”
“One wisecrack about a magic penis,” he warned, “and I don’t care if I have to dump ice cubes down my pants, I’ll walk away. Bowlegged, probably, but I’ll walk.”
She laughed and slid her hands under her back to undo her bra. “I’ll try to contain myself.”
Sean slid the straps free of her arms and flung the bra aside before lowering his mouth to her breasts. When he drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked gently, she moaned and ground her hips against his.
He gave the same attention to her other breast, then lifted his head so he could see her face. He was panting a little—they both were—and he gave her a sheepish grin.
“As much as I’d love to wow you with my stamina and imagination, maybe we could do that tomorrow night.”
She wrapped her legs around his calves, running her foot up his leg. “Tomorrow night? You’re not getting any ideas, are you?”
“I have ideas about what I’d like to do to you tomorrow night. Right now there’s a little…urgency, if you know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” She tugged down on her panties and Sean moved so he could pull them all the way off before reaching into her nightstand drawer and pulling out a condom.
“Hey. You put condoms in my nightstand?”
“I’m an optimist.” Then he stood and dropped his boxer briefs and Emma got optimistic, too.
When he lowered himself over her again, Emma wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him forward. He resisted, lowering his head to give her another blistering kiss before settling between her thighs.
And, holy hell, he was everything she’d thought he’d be during the last two weeks’ worth of restless nights. He filled her with excruciatingly slow strokes until her nails dug into his back and she was whimpering, begging for more in barely coherent, fractured sentences.
When he hooked his arm under her right knee and then drove even more deeply into her, she sucked in a hard breath and moaned his name.
“Shh,” he whispered, and then he did it again.
There was no way she could be quiet. Not when she wanted to yell at him to do it faster and harder, so she twisted her body around and he caught the
hint pretty quickly. Then she was on her knees, her weight resting on her forearms as she buried her face in his pillow.
Sean’s fingers bit into her hips as he drove into her, each stroke a little harder than the one before. She moaned into the pillow, clutching the pillowcase in her fists as the very real orgasm shook her body.
Sean groaned, his hand squeezing her hips as he shuddered and drove into her a few final times. Then he collapsed on top of her, stretching her body out flat against the mattress.
Turning her head so she wouldn’t suffocate in the pillow, Emma sucked in air and basked in the heat of his heavy, trembling body. He kissed the back of her neck and started to lift himself, but then he collapsed again.
“Just another minute,” he murmured into her hair.
“Mmm.” She didn’t have words yet, but if she did she’d tell him she didn’t want him to move. She was content just the way they were.
He got up after a minute to go into the bathroom and on his way back, he grabbed her pillow off the couch and tossed it onto the bed. “Get over. You’re on my side of the bed.”
“It’s my bed,” she muttered, already half-asleep. “You don’t have a side.”
“Get over.”
She got over, but only because she didn’t want to ruin the glow with bickering. And once he’d gotten in on his side of her bed and pulled her close again, she didn’t really care.
“That was amazing,” he whispered.
“Magic.”
She yelped when he slapped her ass, but he was chuckling when he wrapped his arm around her and nuzzled his face in her hair. She was still smiling as she fell asleep.
Sean woke to the sound of a phone going off. For a few seconds he was confused because it was Sunday, so Emma’s alarm shouldn’t go off. Then he realized his cell phone was ringing on the nightstand.
At the same time he also realized Emma had rolled to face him during the night and the blankets had slipped down and damn, she had nice breasts. But she was stirring, probably because his phone was ringing, so he stopped staring and answered it.
“What?”
“I’d say I hope I didn’t wake you, but I’m guessing I did.” It was Mitch and he didn’t sound too sorry about it.
“It’s seven o’clock on a Sunday, asshole. Of course you woke me up.”
And he’d also woken Emma up and Sean sighed in disappointment when she slid out of bed, grabbed her clothes and went into the bathroom. Not the way he’d envisioned their waking up when he’d been drifting off to sleep last night.
“I need a favor,” Mitch said.
“Call Triple-A.”
“You’re my brother.”
Sean swung his feet to the floor and scrubbed at his face. “What’s up?”
“My rental car has a dead battery and they can’t do anything about it until midafternoon. And April doesn’t have a car.”
“April. Oh wait…is that the blonde’s name?”
“Yeah. I need you to come get me and bring me to the airport.”
“Call a cab.”
“I tried. This ain’t Boston, dude. The soonest I can get a taxi here that’ll take me to Manchester is ten minutes after I have to be in Manchester. I just need a ride. The rental company’s going to come get their shitbox.”
“Fine. How do I get to April’s house?”
By the time he’d scrawled directions on a sticky note and promised his brother he was as good as on his way, Emma was on her way out of the bedroom, leaving flower-scented shower steam in her wake. He thought about calling her back but he didn’t have a clue what he’d say, so he went into the bathroom to see if she’d left him any hot water.
Before he went downstairs, he pulled out his Sharpie and stuck a fresh sticky note on the mirror. Btw, THAT was my favorite sexual position. He almost added a happy face to it, but decided just in time that would be lame. It was a slippery slope that led nowhere but to dotting his i’s with hearts.
When he went into the kitchen and found a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon at his seat, he looked at the clock and decided Mitch could cool his heels for a few more minutes.
Emma was an unusual flurry of activity, all of it seeming to require she not look at him. She buttered toast and put the juice away and spent a few minutes wiping up an invisible coffee spill, from what he could tell. Maybe it was the fact her grandmother was in the room, but she seemed a little embarrassed by the fact they’d had sex last night.
Great sex. Sex he wasn’t embarrassed about at all and hoped to do again as soon as bedtime rolled around. Only an extended version, this time, like a director’s cut. He could add back in all the parts of his performance he’d had to cut to fit the time slot his long-neglected sex drive had given him.
For now, he had to deal with Mitch. After shoveling down his breakfast in record time, he rinsed his plate and kissed Cat’s cheek. “I hate to eat and run, but my brother needs a ride to the airport.”
When he went to kiss Emma goodbye, as he always did because that’s what a fiancé would do, he half expected her to shy away. Instead, when his mouth met hers, she flicked her tongue over his bottom lip and gave him a look that promised they’d be putting his imagination to good use later.
He found April’s house with no problem and sat in his truck while Mitch kissed her goodbye in the doorway. And then kissed her goodbye again, and so thoroughly Sean finally tapped on the horn to break up the party.
The blonde was smiling and waving as they pulled out of sight, and Sean shook his head. Not only would she never see Mitch Kowalski again, but she knew she wouldn’t. His oldest brother had an amazing ability to love and leave women without them bearing him any ill will at all.
It didn’t take long for Mitch’s good mood to get on his nerves. “If you keep whistling, you’re going to walk.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you hooked up with a woman who’s only pretending to like you.”
Sean’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. It was tempting to tell Mitch Emma hadn’t been pretending last night, but he kept his mouth shut until the urge passed.
For one, there was money on the line. If he confided in Mitch, he’d tell Ryan and Josh before he even got on the plane so they could determine who’d won the pool. But that wasn’t a big deal. There were always betting pools and sometimes he won and sometimes he lost.
What was a big deal was the possibility—no, probability—that Mitch would also tell one of their cousins, who would tell the other cousins, who would then tell their spouses and…it was only a matter of time before the news reached Aunt Mary. And if Aunt Mary got it in her head he and Emma were becoming a real couple, she’d jump on him in a second, pushing him into settling down.
Better to keep his mouth shut because, no matter how much Emma had rocked his world last night, settling down was the last thing on his mind.
Chapter Thirteen
As soon as Emma and Sean left in separate trucks—Emma having been called not five minutes after Sean left by an upset customer whose new garden had been ravaged by some nocturnal creature—Cat did a victory dance in the kitchen. It couldn’t have been more obvious they’d had sex if they’d had T-shirts made to mark the occasion.
They’d barely said two words to each other and they’d avoided eye contact at all costs, but they weren’t fighting. Anger wasn’t the vibe filling the kitchen with tension. No, it was morning-after awkwardness and she couldn’t be happier about it.
By the time she was done puttering around the kitchen, it was a decent enough hour to call Mary. She brewed herself some tea and took it into the living room to get comfortable.
“You were right about Mitch making a difference,” she said after they’d exchanged hellos.
“Sean didn’t like him touching her. I swear, that kiss almost set the grass under their feet on fire.”
“Guess who didn’t sleep on the couch last night?”
“And the plot thickens,” Mary said, and they laughed.
“Speakin
g of thickening plots, I told Emma I want to give her the house as a wedding gift and I thought she was going to throw up in my lap.”
“That’s interesting.”
Cat took a sip of her tea. “I think, besides worrying about me, she was also afraid I’d sell the house.”
“So making up a relationship with Sean put your mind at ease, but also made you stop telling her the house was too much for a woman alone.”
“Exactly.”
“What did she say?”
“She kept insisting she wanted to buy it from me, not have it given to her. I know my granddaughter. I don’t think she’ll accept the house as a gift under false pretenses.”
“I’d like to think you’re right. What are you going to do?”
Cat sighed. “I’m going to leave it alone for now. If I push, she might decide to tell me the truth. Since they’ve only just…discovered each other, so to speak, I’d rather leave things as they are for a bit longer.”
“Good point.” Mary dropped her voice a little. “Speaking of discovering each other, what’s going on between you and Russell Walker?”
“We’re friends,” she said, but her friend only laughed. “Okay, friends might not be a strong enough word.”
“What would be a strong enough word?”
“I don’t know. It’s so silly. When I’m away from him I tell myself I’m too old to be flirting with a man. But when I’m with him, I don’t feel old at all.”
“He’s smitten with you. Anybody can see that.”
“Smitten.” Cat chuckled. “I like that word. But I’m going home in less than two weeks and his whole life is here.”
“You said his store was going out of business.”
“Yes, but he’s still a part of the community and his daughter’s here.”
“Like your granddaughter’s here?” She heard Mary’s tsk clearly across the line. “That’s not an obstacle.”
“Maybe not, but I’m also set in my ways. He’s charming and I enjoy his company, but I’m not sure I want to spend my remaining years unballing another man’s socks. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to do that.”
Yours To Keep Page 13
