by Noelle Adams
Max came running in wearing a tea towel as a cape, which he whipped off and flung at Laney’s head. He threw himself onto her mat, flat on his stomach, arms and legs stretched out and lifted slightly off the ground.
“Super Max, roll over. Uh, on the, you know, exhale.” Without touching the ground with either his hands or feet, Max flipped effortlessly to his back, then returned with similar ease to his front. “Once you’ve mastered that move—” Laney and Claire exchanged skeptical looks “—then you can add the twist. Super Max, fly!”
Max started to rock from side to side, wriggling his body, and Laney skittered backward off the mat to give him more room. He flipped once, and then again, and finished with a triumphant 90 degree turn, settling into a flying Superman pose, with the unique Max flair of using his hands as pretend laser guns. The three women dissolved into giggles, and Evie led them through a few final stretches.
“Maybe you and Connor should run family Pilates classes,” Laney suggested as they wandered to the kitchen for some homemade protein bars.
Evie nodded. “Honestly, I’ve been thinking about it. I’ll need to find a different space, because the studio space I’m sharing right now is fully booked. I’m only doing six classes a week, all adult, and they’re too popular to change.”
“If you got a dedicated space, how many classes could you offer?” Laney was surprised to hear that her sister wanted to expand. Evie seemed quite happy with her part-time schedule.
Evie shrugged. “Me personally? I could do four a day, although I’d rather hire part-time instructors and just lead one or two myself. I’ve drafted up a schedule with classes every day of the week, but in order to make a go of a standalone studio, I think I’d need to partner with a complimentary service. Maybe a spa. It’s still in the early planning stages.”
Laney gaped at her sister. “I had no idea. That all sounds fantastic. If you need anything…what’s mine is yours, you know that, right?”
Evie nodded. “Thank you. It won’t be necessary, but I appreciate it. If I can change the subject…”
“No, you can’t.” Laney shook her head, and stuffed a protein bar into Evie’s mouth. “I’m going to shower, then I think we should watch Love Actually.”
The diversion worked, and while Evie opened her mouth to ask again a few times during the movie, she thought better of it each time. The afternoon flew by, and after dinner, Laney reflected on how nice the day had been without any discussion. Talking is overrated, she decided, and that gave her an idea.
Kyle sent her a text shortly after nine o’clock saying he was heading home. She smoothed a hand across her outfit, borrowed from Evie—a denim miniskirt and a black long sleeve stretch shirt that looked conservative at first blush, but up close was thin enough to reveal the shadow of her black bra and the long delicate silver necklace she wore nestled between her breasts. She finished the outfit with her thigh high grey knit stockings and Evie’s hooker boots. She left her hair down, and didn’t bother with much makeup—only smudge proof mascara and peach flavoured lip balm.
She tucked the piece of paper she needed into the micro pocket on the skirt and squeezed her thighs together in anticipation.
She stopped in the living room to say goodnight to Evie and Claire. Her mother raised an eyebrow at her outfit, and Evie gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up, so she knew she’d hit the right tone. Tonight was a hook-up, plain and simple. Nothing else would work between them. Not just because of geography. There was too much history. Too much mess and not enough time. She squeezed her eyes shut. If only…but there was no point finishing that thought. And why bother? The sex, when they didn’t stuff it up with chit-chat, was knee-wobblingly good. A faint tremor started low in her belly. Kyle inside her. His mouth on her. Hungry kisses and big warm hands touching all over, making her melt. She was going to be soaking wet before she made it down the road at the rate her mind was going.
Kyle stood in the middle of his house. After having a quick shower and putting clean sheets on the bed, he wasn’t sure what to do next. Candles and wine had been too much the night before. Laney had asked about dessert. Should he unlock the door and just wait for her in bed? And why the hell was he so nervous? He decided to pull the cheesecake out of the fridge and leave it on the island along with a bowl of grapes and bottles of wine, Canadian Club, and sparkling water. Cover all the bases.
Laney’s headlights flared through the window.
At the door, she silenced his greeting with a light, breathless kiss and stepped past him. She wore an impossibly short skirt and sexy as hell boots, and once he took her coat, he could see the outline of her bra and something shiny through her shirt. She was breathtaking. He opened his mouth to tell her just how gorgeous she was when she stepped close and pressed her finger against his lips. She handed him a folded up piece of paper.
Talking is overrated. Let’s see how we do communicating with our bodies instead.
He raised an eyebrow, and she returned the expression with impish challenge. One he would accept, no question. She was all long legs, feisty heat and naughty promises. He couldn’t resist.
He extended his hand and she laced her fingers into his, letting him lead her into the living room. The silence was weird, but he’d do anything to keep that secret smile on Laney’s face. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and thumbed through his playlists quickly, looking for something country. She used to love Faith Hill, which he didn’t have, but hopefully the albums he’d just downloaded with his Christmas gift cards would be an acceptable soundtrack for the night. He set his phone on the speaker docking station on the side table and tugged Laney into his arms as the first strum of guitar filled the room. She trembled, and he closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to want more than what was right in front of him. Everything I’ve ever wanted.
Everything he let slip away, too long ago.
And it wasn’t that he fumbled. It’s that he didn’t even try to catch her as she pulled away. He didn’t go to her when he had all the chances in the world. Didn’t read her emails, not that there’d been that many.
Like more would have made a difference?
And here she was, tonight, by some small miracle, and he wasn’t happy with that. Never enough.
Mother fu—the realization hit him like a Mack truck, and he tensed his hands on her gently rocking hips.
Laney looked up at him, her eyes soft with appreciation. She crinkled her brow, questioning whatever she saw on his face, and he shut the door on his dwelling.
She was enough.
A week with Laney had filled him with happiness in a way that work, his house, even his friends and family didn’t. In a way his two years alone certainly didn’t. He hadn’t been unhappy, not by a long shot, but this was…transcendent.
He didn’t know what the future would hold, but tonight, he’d hold Laney, and it would be enough.
Her lips curved, pleased with the changing look in his eyes, maybe, and she tucked her head against his shoulder. The air was still thick with all that they couldn’t talk about.
Fear.
History.
Distance.
But as she wrapped her arms around his neck and they swayed together, their earnest desire for each other won out and he let his hands roam down her supple body.
His palms cupped her bottom, and she lifted her hips in response, pressing his erection into her belly, and he had to wrap one arm around her waist to keep them both upright as her back arched. He kissed her lips, then her jaw, neck and collarbone, and as his mouth travelled south, so too did his other hand, curling under the hem of her skirt. He was rewarded with delicious bare skin at the top of her thigh, and he made a mental note to tell her just how hot those stockings were once they were allowed to speak. He stroked around to her hip, then held his palm there against the edge of her underwear. Laney got to set the ground rules, he would set the pace.
Kyle had three goals. Get lost in Laney, make it last all night, and not think about
the fact that they were on borrowed time to get this right. Laney leaving Wardham thinking that she was better off without him, again, ripped a jagged tear through his guts. That she was leaving was crystal clear, but he wanted it to be on good terms. Friendly terms. Maybe ones with benefits.
The music changed to a slower ballad. Kyle slid both hands to cup Laney’s face and brushed her lips with his, more a promise than a full out kiss. She swayed against him, and he realized she was dancing. He smiled, and she must have felt it against her mouth, because she opened her eyes and leaned her head back a bit. Her gaze roamed over his face, and whatever she saw, she liked, because she gave him a dazzling smile. Yeah, he could dance for a bit.
He shifted their bodies so he could move them as one. His hands on her hips, his knee between her legs. He thought about the exposed tops of her thighs spreading open and his erection pulsed, like he needed any reminding about where his cock wanted to be. But he wanted to savour the anticipation. Smell her hair and wonder what the shiny thing was under her top. Let her shimmy against him until she broke her own rule and begged him to move to the bed.
A wet tongue at the base of his neck tested that resolve. Maybe their shirts could go. He tugged at Laney’s top first, giving her the silent instruction. While she pulled it over her head, he threw off his own henley and then reached for her hands, tugging them to his own waist before he palmed her hips again. He clenched his abs under her cool touch, and she responded with even lighter circles, tickling him until he lost whatever small bit of rhythm he’d pretended to have. He hoisted her up in his arms and tossed her onto the couch with a growl and she giggled. That lilting laugh undid him every time, and he fell to his knees beside the couch, curving over her pale, soft body to scatter kisses on her stomach.
Her boots were next to capture his attention, and he easily lifted one leg, then the other, unzipping and tossing the footwear into a dark corner of the room. Her skirt hitched up, well above the tops of her stockings, and in the shadow of his body, black boy shorts were the only scrap of fabric left between him and nirvana. He grazed her skin with his palm, fingers settling comfortably into the space between the tops of her thighs. She arched into his touch, and he watched her face soften as she gave herself over to longing. They didn’t need words for him to know what she was asking.
Their breathing slowed at the same time. She needed him just as much as he needed her. Her gaze locked onto his, and he exhaled again, louder this time. She squirmed under his fingers as he traced over her fabric covered center.
She mewled, and with his other hand he pressed a finger to her lips. She smiled under his touch, and he couldn’t hold himself back. He climbed on top of her, his left hand between them, still teasing her core, and scorched her mouth with his. This was a kiss loaded with meaning.
Need.
Desire.
Promise.
Laney pressed her hands against the hard planes of his chest, then trailed lower. He held himself above her, braced on his forearm, and he started to shake as her fingers tickled the subtle ridges of his abdomen. She bit her lip and eased her palm against the flat of his belly behind his waistband. Her eyes widened as she realized he was commando, and he returned the raised eyebrow look. Touch me, he silently begged, but she pulled back to undo his jeans. Her knuckles rubbed against skin as she worked the button, and he jerked his hips toward her. The rasp of his zipper was sweet relief, and he couldn’t hold back a groan as she wrapped her hand around his shaft.
He needed to touch bare skin.
Dammit, he needed to taste bare skin.
He rocked back and forth in her hand first, his palm resting flat on her sex, then pulled away. He sucked in a ragged breath. First step, get her to the bed.
Kyle loomed large above her, bare chested, jeans unbuttoned and obscenely low on his hips. He looked lean and hard.
Very hard.
She sucked in a breath of her own and wriggled out of her skirt. He slid his arms around her and hoisted her over his shoulder as she yelped in surprise. He slapped her ass for making noise. She would have protested if that wasn’t against the rules. Her rules. And if being spanked didn’t make her slippery with want. She blushed at the realization.
He crossed to the bed in a few long strides, and before he let her down, he stripped off her socks and underwear. Only then did he relax his grip around her waist, and she slid down his body. But he stopped her before she got to the good stuff. Instead, he held her hard against his chest, and his fingers got busy. One hand flicked her bra open, the other palmed her bare ass, teasing her slick wet heat with the lightest of strokes from behind. Her hips flexed, seeking firmer contact. He shuddered against her, and eased her back on the soft mattress. He shucked his jeans, then followed her down. She ached from wanting him, and his descent took far too long. Panting hard, she grasped his erection and lifted her hips to drive him home, but he shifted as well, evading what they both wanted.
He shuddered again, and then she saw it. His control was shredded, and he didn’t want this to end. What had he asked for? More than a stolen moment.
He wanted this to last all night. They didn’t need to rush.
She stretched out, laying herself bare beneath him.
This was so different than what they’d once had. She’d thought their summer together had been perfection. Discovering sex with Kyle had been magical, but she’d been naive. It hadn’t been perfect. At the first sign of stress, their fledgling relationship had crumbled. Coming together after all this time, finding passion again in the long buried ashes…different barely scratched the surface in describing it.
As Kyle mouthed his way down her body, as he lifted her thighs to his shoulders and held her hips right where he wanted them, Laney realized this was more than they’d ever had. It wasn’t perfect. It was complicated and messy, but as his tongue stroked her, lifting her high and tossing her into a wave of pleasure, it hit her.
This is real.
Time stood still as he loved her with his mouth, then his hands, and finally his whole body, hip to hip, chest to chest, mouth to mouth. He held her gaze as he thrust into her again and again, sure and steady, as if to say, this could be our every night. This should be our forever. Matching tremors wracked through their bodies, as if his orgasm triggered hers and vice versa. As if they were one.
Kyle pinned her against him as he rolled to his side. She almost cried out at the loss of his weight. She didn’t know what time it was, but it was certainly late.
He stroked her back, his fingers running leisurely up and down her spine. They were both covered in sweat, and tingling trails lingered in the wake of his movement. Perspiration had never felt so wicked before. She shivered, and he indicated they should get up. He led her into the shower, where they quietly washed each other. It wasn’t that the heat between them had gone, exactly, but this wasn’t the overt sexuality of earlier. This was caring. Connection.
Under the hot stream of water, they held each other, foaming bubbles sluicing off their bodies. Laney almost broke the silence a few times, but what was there to say?
Fourteen
The warm, heavy body draped around her was Laney’s first clue that she’d fallen asleep in Kyle’s bed. She blinked. It was still the middle of the night because she couldn’t see anything, although that could also be because her face was buried in Kyle’s shoulder. His left arm and leg were thrown over her body, his hands twisted in her hair. A bead of sweat rolled between her breasts. She tried to roll to her back, but her bedmate had her pinned between impressively defined biceps, even at rest, and his forearms looped behind her shoulders. She nudged him and he tugged her closer, his lips brushing her forehead.
“Don’t go.”
“I won’t. I just need—” some space “—to go to the bathroom.”
He grunted and released her, his fingers trailing over her body as she slipped out of bed. She stood at the curtain, watching as he flopped over onto his stomach. His arms spanned the width of the bed,
his feet hung off the end. He took her breath away, even in his sleep. It wasn’t just that he was rugged and handsome. He also oozed pheromones. She shook her head. No, it wasn’t simple chemistry. They were good together. Great. Best ever, by a mile. But not just because of attraction. The spark got them naked, but then the things they did together, the choices they freely made with one another, all of that was extraordinary. A level of intimacy that she’d shied away from for far too long, that she’d let become so foreign it should make her blush. She touched her cheek, acknowledging that standing in the dark, watching her lover sleep, she probably was blushing a bit.
But she didn’t feel any reluctance or embarrassment, didn’t regret anything that they did. Because everything they did together felt right, and oh so good. With previous lovers, it was all about finding what worked and what didn’t, and she often established boundaries. Laney couldn’t think of anything that she wouldn’t want to do with Kyle. She waited for her face to flush at the naughty thoughts that were racing through her mind, but the only physical response was a tremor in her belly. She couldn’t give him forever, but she could give him an unforgettable right now.
She padded first to the washroom, then to the kitchen. They never did get to dessert, and her stomach rumbled as she saw the white bakery box spotlighted on the island when she flicked on the lights. Her eyes flicked to the bedroom. Would he mind? She could see his raised eyebrow in her mind’s eye and laughed quietly. She deserved a midnight snack.
She peeked inside and let out a quiet gasp at the glistening blueberry cheesecake. A delicate perfume of fruitiness made her mouth water, and she quickly sourced a plate, fork and serving knife. The fruit sat plump and shiny, scattered at random across a thin red-purple glaze poured over the top of the creamy white cake. Laney didn’t want to mar the perfection, but she was dying to know what that fresh scent tasted like in her mouth.
