by Regina Cole
With her bra sliding off her shoulders, she stopped stock-still.
He was silhouetted in the small, silvery beam of light there, his cock hard and standing proudly. Her mouth watered and her belly tightened at the thought of his hardness against her, inside her again.
She had missed him so much. She wanted him so much.
He turned to her then, and the darkness took his features from her.
“Stacey? Can I turn on the light?”
She wanted to say yes. Her heart ached with the need to see him, to lovingly trace all the parts of his body she had only felt, not seen. She wanted to look into his eyes when he parted her, pushed into her, set up that delicious rhythm that had her screaming his name.
But the thought of him turning away from her, disgusted at the sight of her far-from-perfect body made her stop. She was scared. Too scared to lose him, too scared to risk it.
“No need for that. I’ll grab a condom,” she said, and raced from the room.
In her bathroom, she paused by the sink with her hands braced on the countertop. Though it was right in front of her, she didn’t dare look in the mirror. She knew what she’d see. Her half-naked body wasn’t anything to write home about, and if she really thought about it, she would chicken out of this whole relationship when it had just barely gotten started.
Her heart was beating too fast. She stared at the tiles between her still-booted feet. Breathe, Stacey, calm down.
She reached into the cabinet and pulled out the stash of condoms that had been there for quite a long time. Quick check of the dates . . . Thank God. She’d need to grab some more in a couple of months, but for now, this would do.
Pulling off her boots, she timed her breaths. Counting as she breathed in and out forced her to calm, and by the time she’d removed the rest of her clothing, there in the privacy of her bathroom, she was feeling a bit better.
With condom in hand, she killed the lights before opening the door.
“Rob?”
“I’m in here.” His voice came from her bedroom, but the apartment was still dark. She shook her head slightly as she padded barefoot down the hall. He had asked for light, but he hadn’t argued once. What had she done to deserve this man?
“Your bed is more comfortable than the couch would be, I figured.”
She hadn’t closed the curtains in her bedroom, so a faint glow illuminated the bed where Rob lay, naked, his head pillowed on his arm. Shifting to the side quickly to be out of the beam, she bit her lip before answering.
“It might be.”
He was out of the bed and by her side faster than she could say anything further. He gathered her into his arms and breathed against her hair. “If you’re not comfortable with this, I need to know.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s—I—Damn it Rob, just kiss me.”
He did, bless him. She opened her mouth at his gentle urging and leaned her naked body into his, so grateful for the warmth of him, the smoothness of his skin, the taut muscles that rolled and moved under his skin as he scooped her into his arms and gently laid her on the bed. It wasn’t possible for a girl with her body type to feel dainty. But somehow, Rob made her feel that way.
He laid full-length on top of her, his erection brushing against her thigh. The touch of him made her whimper; his kisses made her sigh with want. Her belly was tightening and warming with the sensations he built with kisses and touches and ever-heightening need.
She kissed him fervently, rubbing her hands down his shoulders, his back, his arms, his ass, everywhere she could reach. And then it wasn’t enough. His mouth was on her nipple, sucking, drawing her in, and her fingers were twisted in his hair, but her body screamed for more. She parted her thighs and lifted her hips, the moisture making her inner lips cool as they parted.
Seeming to understand her silent plea, Rob moved his thigh higher, between her legs. As he moved to her other nipple, she shifted and moaned aloud when her slick pussy made contact with his strong, warm thigh.
“There, honey,” he said, tweaking her wet nipple while he plied the other with small kisses. “Ride me.”
And she did. Slow at first, she relished the feel of her sensitive skin gliding up and down the firm muscles he tensed for her. He rolled her nipple tighter, the combination of pleasure and pain stoking her fires hotter. Her movements came quicker, her tension building. A slow, burning, throbbing ache had set up shop between her thighs, and only an orgasm could cure it. Rob lifted his head and eased his body forward.
The move brought her clit into deep contact with his leg, and her cry came from deep inside.
“There, Stacey, that’s in the right spot, isn’t it? Come for me, honey. I want to hear you scream my name.”
She bucked, she twisted, she clawed at his shoulders as the heat built in her lower belly. It was a fire that he stoked, and he did it so masterfully, so incredibly, that she knew she’d be incinerated and she didn’t give a good damn.
“Ride me, Stacey. Ride me ’til you come.”
It was good, so good, but it wasn’t enough. There was a yawning ache inside her, and though he was so close, touching her nearly everywhere, it wasn’t enough. But he had what she needed to get there.
Without another thought, she reached down between them and grasped his hot, throbbing, naked cock. Spreading her thighs wide, she guided him home.
He’d only thrust twice when she lost all control, her body shattering into a billion pleasure-soaked pieces. She did scream his name, clinging to his arms like he was the last solid thing in her world.
Because he was.
* * *
When Stacey’s orgasm had finished, Rob fought for the last shred of control left inside him. It was all he could do to thrust three more times, then force himself to leave the sweet warmth of her body.
He reached down, and with two smooth strokes, finished the orgasm he’d been holding at bay for the last five minutes. She’d been so damn hot, grinding on him and twisting and moaning like her life was dependent on the way he touched her.
Spent, he lay beside her in the dark, listening to her breathe. She was drifting off to sleep.
Just then, a rhythmic buzzing began, along with a cheerful, chirping ringtone. His mother’s ringtone. Rob’s stomach dropped, and he shoved off the bed and onto his feet. Where?
“Rob, is that yours?”
He felt around for the clothes he’d brought into the room, but he couldn’t find them. They must have fallen off the bed while he and Stacey were rolling around.
“Yes, it’s mine, and it’s important. I’m sorry, I can’t find my phone. I’m going to have to turn the lights on.”
He was already reaching for the wall by the door as he spoke, but her frantic squeak made him pause.
“Wait! Just a second!”
Fabric rustled, and then an out-of-breath Stacey said, “Okay.” He flipped on the light. A glimpse toward the bed revealed that she’d clambered under the covers and was using the sheet as a shield against his gaze. He’d think about that later. Right now he had to grab the phone that was about to ring out.
“Mom?”
“Robbie . . .” She was crying, and his heart stopped. “It’s Dad. We’re at the hospital.”
“I’m on my way,” he said, scooping up the clothes. “Where?”
“Fairfield General. The doctors are with him now. I’m so afraid it was a heart attack. We were out Christmas shopping, and he said he had some indigestion, so we were heading back to the car, and he just fell over. I didn’t know what to do. The store manager called nine-one-one, and the ambulance got us.”
He’d known it before he even answered the call, but the confirmation made him feel physically ill. “Just hang tight, Mom. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Have to wrap up some things at home and then I’ll jump on the highway. Are Greta and Marla coming?” His sisters lived much closer than he did, and he wanted his mother to have some company as soon as possible. Just in case of—Well, for moral support. He refu
sed to think of the worst-case scenario.
“Greta is. I called her from the ambulance. I think she called Marla, but I wanted to call you.”
“Okay. I love you, and we’ll be okay.” He hoped and prayed he was right.
“I love you too.” His mother sniffled, and then the phone went dead in his hand.
He was standing naked at the foot of Stacey’s bed. His clothes were scattered at his feet, where he’d tossed them while digging for his phone. A still-wrapped condom was lying on the bedside table, and peeking out from beneath the covers was a tousle-haired, wide-eyed Stacey.
What should he say? He had to go; there might not be much time. But this thing between them was so fragile, so new, so terribly uncertain. Could it survive his leaving right then?
Whether it did or not, he had no choice. His family needed him.
“I have to go,” he said, pulling on his briefs. “I’m sorry.”
“Is everything okay?” She sat up straighter as he pulled on his track pants, but she kept the sheet clutched tightly to her chest.
“No, it’s not. My dad’s in the hospital.”
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Before he could answer, his phone rang again. He swiped the ANSWER button. “Hello?”
“Rob, it’s Greta. I’m here at the hospital.”
“How’s it going?” He tucked the cell phone in the crook of his shoulder and flipped his T-shirt right-side outward.
“Talked to the doctor. It’s not good, Robbie. He had a heart attack. They’re doing the angioplasty now to see the extent of the damage.”
“I’m getting ready to leave right now. I’ve got to get Custard over to Silvio’s, if he’s home, and toss some stuff into a bag. I should be on the road within the hour.”
Greta sighed. “Okay. Just—drive safe. Don’t fly on the roads. They may be transferring him to a hospital with a better cardiac unit, so keep your phone nearby.”
“Will do.”
When the call with Greta disconnected, Rob dropped the phone on the foot of the bed and pulled the shirt over his head. His body felt like a live wire, all restless energy that had no outlet. His skin prickled, and everything inside him was screaming to fight, to run, to somehow escape the nightmare that he was caught up in.
His father—his overly critical, much-too-demanding hero of a father—was sick. Maybe dying. And he could do nothing to help.
“What can I do?” Stacey’s small voice broke into his world of darkness.
He looked over at her, and for that moment, he couldn’t hide a damn thing even if the thought had occurred to him.
“Come with me. My father—well, his heart isn’t good. I don’t know if he’s going to pull through.” Though his heart was breaking, his voice was steady. “I have to be there, for him, for my mom, and for my sisters. I have to be strong for them. But it’s my dad.”
He hated this. Hated the feeling of weakness, of vulnerability. He wanted to wrestle this problem, tackle it head-on, like he’d always done. But that wasn’t possible this time.
“I—I can’t.” Stacey looked down at the covers as she spoke. “I want to, I really, really do. But my project—my job . . .”
She trailed off, and Rob stared at her for a long moment.
“I understand.” He reached down and scooped his jacket up from the floor. “I’ll give you a call sometime, yeah?”
“Wait!” she called after him as he moved toward the bedroom door. “I can fly out tomorrow night after work.”
“I’ll be okay. I’d hate to put you out.”
“No! I want to.” She scooted toward the edge of the bed, keeping that damn sheet tucked around her like a shield.
He tightened his fist and stared at the ceiling. Not like this. This wasn’t what he’d wanted. His pain was so great, and she couldn’t let her guard down even now?
“Seriously. I’ll fly out on the first flight I can get. Will you text me the name of the hospital?”
His treacherous heart screamed at him to accept her offer. His brain told him to leave it, to figure out the whole mess some other day. But he was short on time. His heart won out.
“Okay,” he said, then walked toward her. Bending down, he kissed her firmly, longingly, and with the lingering taste of sadness that was clouding his mind. With his hand at the nape of her neck, he tilted her head up to look at him.
“I love you.”
The words were unbidden. She blinked, and her eyes looked misty as she replied.
“I love you too, Rob.”
He turned and left the room, hoping like hell that she would keep her word. He needed her at his side. If he had to do the one thing he’d been dreading for so long, he’d need someone to lean on.
Not just someone. He needed Stacey.
Chapter 26
She’d slipped into her robe as he left the bedroom. Belting it quickly, she stepped out into the hallway.
The front door shut behind him with a click that seemed to leave a bruise on her heart.
Leaning against the wall, she stared at the closed door. This had been the most wonderful and most terrible night she’d had in a very long time.
Rob loved her. She loved him. They’d sort of come to an understanding about their relationship, but then that terrible news had come.
Of course, she wanted to drop everything and go be with him. There was nothing that would have made her happier than to support him through his time of need. He’d done so much for her when she’d been injured—hell, she still owed him and the debt would probably never be repaid. But her job. Her project. She had poured so much of her heart and soul into it, and tomorrow was her big chance to prove that she deserved the promotion she’d been given all those months ago. How could she just abandon that chance?
But how could she let Rob go through this painful time alone?
“God,” she moaned, letting her head thump backward against the wall. If only the answers were more clear. She needed to figure things out. She needed clarity. She needed a friend.
She needed Bree.
Her bare feet made soft slapping sounds against the hardwood floor of her hallway as she went to fetch her purse. With her cell phone in hand, she went into the kitchen. Her “favorites” list popped open, and soon Bree’s face was smiling up at her from the screen.
“Hey there beautiful! What’s up?”
Stacey propped the phone up against her cookie jar and yanked open the fridge. “I know you’re a newlywed and you probably want to shoot me for Skyping you at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night, but I need to talk. Are you busy?”
Bree shook her head. “Nope. Greg is out playing pool with his buddies. I was just about to finish watching Sixteen Candles for the umpteenth time.”
“Oh man, I want an eighties movie night with you so bad,” Stacey groaned as she poured herself a glass of wine. “We haven’t done that in a billion years.”
“It’s been way too long,” Bree agreed, straightening her messy blond topknot. “God, I look hideous. I should really look in the mirror before I answer a video call.”
Stacey snorted as she set her glass down on the counter. “Bullshit. You couldn’t look hideous if you tried. Those glasses are cute, your jammies are fun, and if I looked half as good as you when you’re”—she made air quotes—“‘hideous’, I would be doing great.”
“You look amazing. I think you’ve lost some weight.” Bree wagged her finger at the screen. “So, stop being mean to my favorite cousin.”
Stacey fought the urge to shake her head and scooped up the phone. With her glass in hand, she moved to the living room.
“So, it’s not like you to want to talk like this. I’m the one who usually comes after you to get things figured out.” Bree rubbed her hands together and grinned almost evilly. “Come on, what’s going on?”
Tucking her feet beneath her, Stacey propped her phone on the arm of her oversized chair and took another sip of wine. “It’s complicated
. It’s long, and involved, and I think I’ve screwed it all up.”
“Is it about Mr. Big Guns? It is, isn’t it?” Bree was practically bouncing with joy. “You guys are an item.”
“Yes. No. Well, I don’t know.”
Bree’s smile lost some of its glee. “Wow, this is complicated, huh. Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
So Stacey did. She filled Bree in on details she’d only barely sketched in texts. From the way Rob had made her feel during that first ill-fated workout session, to that incredible session in the locker room, to the way he’d run straight to the hospital to be by her side. Stacey talked, and Bree listened, never judging, never laughing, just taking it all in as Stacey bared her soul. Her feelings, her confusion, the sweet way he’d wooed her during their stay together.
And then tonight. How she’d admitted her feelings, and he’d reciprocated, and then how her need for the dark had seemed to hurt him. His father’s sudden illness, and her refusal to go with him.
When she was done, Stacey was raw inside. Her voice was hoarse, and her cheeks burned from the slow track of her tears. Her glass of wine was nearly empty, and the slight buzz wasn’t nearly enough to dull the pain and confusion swirling inside her.
“I love him. And I want to be with him. Am I screwing up totally because of this project? But my job is so important to me, and I really believe in what I’m doing. This project could help a lot of people, and it will actually save the city money in the long term. If I can do both, shouldn’t I?” Stacey took a long, ragged breath, and waited.
Bree bit her bottom lip and furrowed her brow. “Wow. That’s a lot to take in, honey. You love this guy?”
Stacey nodded.
“And right now he’s hurting.”
She nodded again.
Looking down, Bree tucked a lock of hair that had escaped her topknot behind her ear. “I can’t tell you what to do. I mean, yes, your job is important to you. And you’ve worked a really long time on this project. And if you miss that meeting tomorrow, the whole thing might go down the pipes.” Bree cleared her throat, then looked straight at Stacey. “But this guy is important to you. And he put his whole life on hold to help you heal after the car accident. He asked you to go be with him. I just—I mean, I can’t say what you should do.”
