Beefcake & Mistakes

by Fennell, Judi

  They stood there, the three of them in the doorway, waving and watching Mrs. Lassiter get in her car and drive away, and it was Jenna’s turn to swallow loudly. It was as if they were a real family getting ready to settle down for the night.

  “So now what, Sport? Do we read a book? Watch some television? Eat some cook—”

  “A book.” Jenna jumped in, not wanting to give Trevor any ideas about cookies as a bedtime snack. “And he has to brush his teeth.”

  “I did that awweady, Mommy. Daddy sang me a funny song.”

  Jenna raised her eyebrows and was amazed when Bryan blushed.

  “Something my dad used to sing to get us to brush our teeth long enough.”

  “And I got to spit at the end! Mommy never lets me spit.” Trevor looked at her as if this was a bad thing.

  “Well, your mom doesn’t want you spitting at anyone, just in the bathroom sink and only the toothpaste. And just at bedtime.”

  “So I can’t spit when I brush my teeth in the morning?”

  “Oh, well then, too.” Bryan scratched the back of his neck. “Lot of stuff involved in this parenting thing, huh?”

  Jenna laughed. “You’ll get the hang of it. It just takes practice.”

  She picked a book off the shelf. “Here. Read him this one. It’s one of his favorites.”

  “Oooh! I wove the choochoo. He can go over the mountain.”

  The bed groaned when Bryan sat on it. Jenna leaned against the wall just outside the door, shamelessly listening in. Was this what it’d be like if she’d accepted his proposal? Would he move in with them and put Trevor to bed and bathe him and read him books and cut up his pancakes and toss the ball, bandage his knees, take him to ballgames…

  “I fink I can!” Trevor shouted his favorite line from the book and Bryan laughed just like she did every time Trevor said it like that.

  Someday his lisp would disappear and she’d miss all the cute little sayings he had.

  She didn’t want to miss anymore of his life so she walked into the room. “Is there enough space on that bed for me?”

  “Yay! Mommy’s here!” Trevor wiggled closer to the guardrail on the outside of his bed. “You can sit next to Bwyan, Mommy, ’cause Mister Monkey wants to sit next to me.”

  She picked the stuffed animal off the floor and set him next to Trevor and pulled the covers over his lap, then climbed onto the bed and leaned against the wall beside Bryan.

  How wrong was it that she was super-aware of his long muscular legs next to hers on their son’s bed? She probably wouldn’t be thinking this way if she’d actually created Trevor with Bryan, but since she’d only gotten a teaser about what it’d be like to go to bed with him, it was the only thing she could think of as she was actually on a bed with him.

  “Can you wead it again, Bwyan?” Trevor lifted his head when Bryan finished the story.

  “I could, but I don’t think you’re going to make it, kiddo.” Bryan adjusted Trevor’s pillow and settled him down in a way Jenna envied. She could never get him to snuggle in so easily.

  “Will you wead it tomorrow?”

  Bryan slid off the bed, pulled the covers up, and kissed Trevor’s forehead. “Sure will, Trev. Sleep tight. Keep Mr. Monkey company.”

  “And Wocco, too. He misses his fwiends.”

  “But he has the dinosaurs now, so he’ll be fine.” Bryan stepped back so Jenna could say her own goodnight.

  “Night night, Mommy. I wove you.”

  “Love you, too, Trev.” Her throat got tight as it did every time he said those magical words. There was nothing like being loved so unconditionally by this little boy.

  She picked up the book, then flipped on the night light and closed the door as she followed Bryan out into the hallway—with one last look at the sweet little guy already almost asleep. She could never get tired of watching him sleep.

  “It’s a miracle, isn’t it?” Bryan whispered above her head.

  She looked up. He was staring at Trevor, too. “He is. He definitely is.”

  She put her finger to her lips and led him to the living room. “Thanks for reading to him. He usually doesn’t go down so easily.”

  “Too much excitement, that’s all. He would have done the same for you after the day he had.”

  Dinner had been enough excitement for her. And that kiss afterwards…

  “So do you need anything else, Jenna?”

  Jenna looked up. Need anything? Where should she begin? She needed. She needed help. Someone to share the burden and the worry of raising a child. Someone to take over so she could have a few hours off. Someone who cared about her as more than Trevor’s mother or Jason’s teacher or the neighbor across the street, or someone her mother gave birth to.

  She needed to matter to someone.

  “Jenna? You okay?”

  No, she wasn’t. And she really didn’t want to be alone tonight.

  Or ever.

  She set the book on the bookshelf and turned around.

  And then she kissed him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  One moment Bryan was reveling in the warm fuzzy feeling of having put his son—his son—to bed and the next… the next he wasn’t warm and fuzzy at all.

  No, he was hot and sizzling and Jenna was in his arms with her lips on his and her sweet, tight, perfect body rubbing against him and there was no mistaking what she needed.

  What he needed.

  Bryan crushed her against him. This probably wasn’t the best idea, but, hell, it’d be worse to stop.

  He wanted her. In the four years since he’d had her—though he couldn’t remember it—nothing seemed to have changed. There was a reason they’d gotten together that night, and though alcohol had been involved, it’d only helped things along, because they would have gotten there anyway.

  But he’d be forever grateful for that night and that alcohol and that party, because all of it had gotten him to this moment and all he wanted was to take her to bed and rediscover everything he’d learned four years ago.

  She mewled in the back of her throat when he thrust his tongue into the hot recess of her mouth, the sound curling along his spine like a lick of fire, igniting every inch of his skin.

  She thrust her fingers into his hair, tugging on it, and he felt every tug right in his groin. The want, the need, the desire to make her his in the way man had been doing since time began. She was his. He’d created a life with her, a living breathing being who was the best parts of the both of them, and he wanted to discover all those parts in her.

  He swept her up in his arms, never once breaking the kiss. He didn’t think he ever would, and if the world ended right now with her in his arms, kissing him, wanting him, groaning for him, he’d die a very happy man.

  He carried her up the stairs and strode down the hall past Trevor’s room. Hers had to be around here somewhere and, hell, even if it wasn’t, he’d take her up against the wall. He wasn’t letting her go. Not now. Not tonight.

  Not ever if he had any say in the matter.

  “Door on the right,” she muttered as she dragged his bottom lip between her teeth, the sting of that little nip zinging through him as he wedged her door open with his shoulder.

  The room was floral and pretty, typical woman, but it could be a stone cold cave for all Bryan cared; he just wanted her naked and writhing beneath him on the—thank you, God—king-sized bed.

  He closed the door then fell onto that bed without his usual finesse, but he didn’t care about that either. He didn’t want to take one hand off her any longer than he had to, so he barely broke their fall.

  Jenna didn’t seem to mind, curling herself into him, her knees tossed over his thighs, one arm trapped beneath him, the other hiking up his shirt.

  Bryan managed to raise himself just enough—and pulled one hand away just long enough—to yank that shirt over his head and fling it somewhere. Something might have crashed to the floor—or that could be the beat of his heart as she traced her fingertips
down his abdomen.

  And then her lips.

  Her tongue.

  Bryan groaned and fell back on the comforter. Jenna’s hair brushed his skin like a feather—an electrified feather because every nerve ending jumped to attention and if she didn’t stop soon, he was going to be the one writhing beneath her.

  Which had all sorts of interesting possibilities attached to it.

  But he wanted to enjoy her first. Wanted to get to know her all over again. Discover what made her groan. What made her tummy flutter. What made her cry out his name.

  He cupped her head and tilted that beautiful face up to his. “Jenna, come here.”

  She licked her lips, “But Bryan—”

  He sat up—sort of—and kissed her, pouring everything he felt, everything he wanted into that kiss. This was Jenna. The mother of his child, the woman who’d given him the greatest gift one human being could give another, and he wanted this moment to be about them. Not just about him, or just about her, or any combination of the two, but them. They deserved this, deserved to be together, to rediscover each other.

  He laid her back on her pillows and brushed her hair off her face. Her eyes were so blue. So beautiful, like a clear summer day with the sun shining, every bit of that warmth as she looked up at him, clear and honest and true.

  And if that wasn’t a thud in the vicinity of his heart, Bryan didn’t know what was.

  He loved her.

  Bryan let the thought settle in, warming his entire body that had nothing to do with the way Jenna made him feel, but everything to do with it, too. He loved her.

  “Jenna…” He stopped. He shouldn’t tell her. He couldn’t. Not yet. It was too soon. Wasn’t it? Could he be making more of it than it was?

  “Make love to me, Bryan.” She slid her hand into his hair and tugged him down to her, and, yeah, he could do it this way, love her this way. Let his body say what he couldn’t.

  Yet.

  He kissed her again, pouring everything he felt for her into the kiss. He nipped her lips for that playful smile she’d had when she’d missed the football he’d tossed her the other day. Licked her lips for the cotton candy that’d been stuck on them at the fair. Swept across the seam for the hot, delicious feel of her moving against him, and he plunged inside like the rest of him wanted to do, feeling her around him, taking him into her heat, surrounding him with the very essence of all that was Jenna.

  Her nails scraped his back and she shoved her hands beneath his pants and suddenly they were both wearing too many clothes.

  He lifted himself off her—just enough that she could work the button and zipper at his waist and he could drag her shirt up over her smooth, toned abdomen, revealing the sexiest peach lace bra he’d ever seen, her nipples teasing him just beneath it.

  He tugged the lace down and tasted her. Dear God, how could he have forgotten this? How could he have had enough beer to drown out the sweet heaven that was her body?

  He rolled that tight nipple on his tongue, sucked it between his lips, taking her breast inside, and he feasted on her soft delicious flesh, the utter femininity making him shake with need.

  Her palms found his ass and she squeezed and, God Almighty, he felt that action in his cock that was already so tight and hard and jerking against her thigh, wanting to claim her. Wanting to be buried inside her and moving… moving to ease this ache that was threatening to spiral out of control.

  He kissed his way to her other breast, needing to see if it tasted even half as good as the first, and, hell, yes, it did. Jenna was a sensation for his palate and he didn’t think he could ever tire of her.

  And then her hand found him.

  Bryan sucked in a breath, her touch destroying any sense of composure he wanted to lay claim to.

  Her skin was like silk, her fingers wrapped around him and squeezing just enough to have his blood boiling. He rocked into her grasp and dear sweet Jesus, it felt utterly amazing.

  His orgasm curled in his balls and he couldn’t stop thrusting. Couldn’t stop rocking into the tight sweet hold she had on him, and if he couldn’t move faster he’d die.

  “Jenna.” He bit out her name wanting her to do… something. He wasn’t sure what, but he couldn’t go on like this much longer. But if she stopped, he’d die.

  She stopped.

  He, interestingly enough, kept breathing. Harsh, ragged, tight, not-enough-air sort of breaths, but there was still air going in, keeping him alive, torturing him with the desire to thrust inside her so long and so hard and so deep and forever that he trembled trying to hang on to his sanity.

  “There’s a box. Top drawer.” She nodded to the bedside table to his right.

  Figured, the left one was closer.

  He dragged himself over to it, yanked open the drawer, and pulled out a black case with a lock on it. “What’s this?”

  Jenna took it from him and he was so damn glad to see her fingers trembling as she tried to unlock it with one of the smallest keys he’d ever seen.

  “I didn’t want Trevor to see them,” she said, all her concentration going to that tiny key.

  He laughed for a brief second, but it was long enough to diffuse some of the tension—enough to let him be semi-coherent. “Smart thinking.”

  “Occasionally I do have a brilliant idea or two.”

  “Dinner was one of those. Thank you.”

  She dropped the key. Luckily, it was attached with a ribbon. “Unlocking this earlier would have been a better one,” she grumbled as she finally, thank God, slid the key into the lock.

  The image almost put him over the edge.

  Yeah, he was a horny bastard, but he was only horny for her and it wasn’t “horny” for horny’s sake but desire for her sake. For his. For theirs.

  A bunch of condoms spilled out of the box, falling across her chest, onto the bed, behind her neck, and Bryan grabbed the closest one, ripped it open with his teeth, and handed it to her. “Will you?”

  She nibbled her lip again, damn her. Bryan almost came from that image alone.

  Then she licked her lips.

  The strength in his right arm gave out and he fell onto the bed, twisting so that his back was against it—and his cock was right in front of her, perfect for putting on the condom.

  Which she did so well.

  Too well. He sucked in a huge shaking breath as her fingers circled the base of him.

  Then he lost that breath when she leaned over and sank her mouth down on his length.

  “Jenna…” The words were strangled from him as his fingers found her hair. He had every intention of pulling her away, but then she licked him and oh dear God, he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do anything but try to breathe as her mouth and her tongue and her lips and her fingers—holy hell, her fingers!—hit him like a ton of bricks, and Bryan knew—he knew—that nothing would ever be the same again.

  Jenna couldn’t believe what they were doing. What she was doing. Oh, she could because this was what she’d wanted to be doing but how had it happened? How had she gone from dinner with their mothers, to putting their son to bed, to ending up in her bedroom, naked and getting sweaty, with her mouth wrapped around his cock?

  She’d wanted to be wrapped around him, that’s how.

  Bryan groaned her name and Jenna stopped thinking. She’d worry about all the ramifications later but right now, she had Bryan in her bed, in her mouth, and …

  In her heart.

  Her heart? Bryan was in her heart?

  She closed her eyes and let the feeling wash over her.

  Yes, he was.

  “Jenna… Please. No more. Can’t. Take. It.”

  His urgent plea pulled her back to what they were doing. She’d have time enough later to examine her feelings, but right now, she was feeling this. Wanted to feel this. Needed to.

  And so did he, even if the grip he had on her head said he wasn’t sure he wanted her to continue. But he was straining against her lips, part pull-part push, in-out, the perfect moveme
nt for where this was headed, so she licked him.

  It wasn’t the same with a condom, but they needed that condom. And maybe a few more because she didn’t think once was going to be enough tonight.

  “Sweetheart, please,” he groaned. “Stop. I don’t want to come this way. Not our first time. I want to be inside you.”

  She didn’t remind him that, technically, for him, this wasn’t the first time, but she wasn’t going to ruin the moment and pull the past up when it wasn’t their past.

  Tonight was their first time. And hopefully not their last.

  She pulled her mouth from him with a pop, smiling when he fell back on the bed with a groan. “Sure you want me to stop?”

  He turned his head and smiled to the one side—the one with that adorable dimple. “Oh I’m definitely sure I don’t want you to stop, but I’m equally certain that you need to because if you don’t, you’re not going to enjoy yourself.”

  “Now that’s where you’re wrong. I’m thoroughly enjoying myself right now.” She licked him again just to prove it, every taste, every nuance that much more incredible because of what she’d just discovered.

  He groaned again. “Come here, you. I want to see you. I want to watch you. I want to watch us. Tonight’s all about rediscovery.” He sat up and cupped her face in both hands, drawing her toward him for a kiss that would have knocked her socks off if she’d been wearing any.

  It invaded her senses, wrapping around her heart and tying it up a neat little bow that was so not what their relationship was, but what she wanted it to be.

  He pressed her back onto the pillow, sliding her pants down over her hips, skimming her panties with them and then he was there, touching her, stroking her, cupping her, pressing against her as the ache built—the one between her legs. The one in her chest had been growing since the moment she’d seen his eyes and known just who he was.

  But she wouldn’t think about that now. This wasn’t about Trevor or Mindy or anyone or anything but what was between her and Bryan because that was what was real. She couldn’t fake it or lie about it and neither could he. He felt something for her here and it had to be independent of the fact that he thought they’d made a child together because how she felt certainly was.