Double Take

by Leslie Kelly

  His dark eyes gleamed with pleasure. She suspected he’d wanted to take her with absolutely no barrier as much as she’d wanted to be taken that way.

  “Did you have to wear a bag over your head when you got the prescription filled at the local pharmacy?”

  She laughed softly. “No, but I did mention to the lady at the counter that I really hoped they’d even out my horrible, irregular periods.”

  His turn to laugh. Then the laughter faded, and they were once again focused on every touch, every quiver, every sigh. They exchanged long, slow kisses and longer, intimate touches. He seemed content to touch every inch of her, giving her toes as much attention as he did her breasts. And in the sunlight, she was free to explore all the wonderful ridges and planes of his body.

  Finally, when the sweet tension was almost unbearable, he moved between her thighs. She savored the weight of him on top of her; the hair on his legs brushed against the smoothness of hers, his flat nipples rubbed her taut, sensitized ones.

  He kissed her deeply, erotically, as he slid his cock against her slickness. She parted her legs farther, arching up to welcome him. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as they shared kiss after deep, wet kiss.

  He entered her slowly, sinking into her a little at a time, and she moaned against his lips. The heat of him, the strength of him, filled her mind as well as her body and she found herself focusing on every tiny sensation. Her skin was entirely sensitized, from her head to her toes. She had never been as utterly in tune with herself as she was now, which made it all the more easy to focus on the intense sensations Mike provided.

  “This is amazing,” she whispered, kissing his earlobe, scraping her nails on his back.

  “Yeah, it is. You’re so hot, Lindsey, so sweet and wet and tight.”

  The lack of a condom had taken things from amazing to heart-stopping. Having nothing separating them, not even the barest sliver of rubber, made more of a difference than she’d ever have imagined. When he finally thrust deep, filling her completely, she screamed out the bliss of it to the blue sky above. A startled bird took wing from a nearby tree, cawing as it streaked across the sky, and for a moment, she knew how it felt to fly.

  It would be like this. This weightlessness, buoyed by the cloud of tenderness and emotion surging between her and Mike. And he was taking her high, so incredibly high.

  They found a rhythm and began to rock to it, thrusting easily, slowly. Then faster. And faster.

  She was soon gasping, clinging to him with hungry desperation. He’d taken her high enough. Now it was time to soar and fall back to earth.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please, Mike.”

  He braced himself on one elbow, moving his other hand between their hot, slick bodies. The very moment he scraped his fingers across her clit, her climax erupted, low and strong, building and shooting out until she felt it to the very ends of her hair.

  “Oh, yes!” she yelled, not giving a damn if she scared every bird or boar off the island.

  Mike groaned and thrust, his breaths harsh, his eyes glazing. Staring at him, thinking about what he’d just given her—what he was still giving her—was enough to push her to the edge again. When he finally spilled over into his own ecstasy, she followed him, spinning, flying, falling.

  But convinced he’d be there to catch her.

  Afterward, spent, they collapsed together on the blanket, limbs entwined, heart rates slowing. He still held her close, kissing her temple, stroking her belly. Lindsey went from closing her eyes and dozing off to staring straight up to enjoy the beautiful blue sky overhead.

  “This is wonderful,” she whispered. “I can’t remember a better day. My very first picnic.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I always wanted to go on one.”

  “Your family...”

  She stiffened, unable to stop the reflexive reaction.

  “I’m sorry. None of my business.”

  Not speaking for a moment, she considered what to say. She and Mike had gotten close, in just about every way. But there was that one part of her life she’d never told him about. Never come close to telling him about.

  She wasn’t sure she was ready to share the whole thing, but she could at least try to do what she knew he wanted her to do: open up to him, knock down those last walls she kept wrapped so protectively around her heart.

  “I didn’t have the big-family, happy childhood you had,” she finally said. Clearing her throat, she added, “I was an only child.”

  “Hey, only child—more presents at Christmas.”

  If her laugh was bitter, she supposed she could be forgiven. “There were rarely Christmases. No birthdays. My parents were big believers in the what-doesn’t-kill-you-makes-you-stronger philosophy.”

  “You were abused?” he asked, the words stark and pained.

  “I never really thought of it that way. I mean, certainly not sexually, and physically it didn’t usually go beyond an occasional spanking.”

  She heard him let out a long, slow breath, and realized he’d been holding it, waiting for her to answer his question. Realizing he’d been worried about something that might have happened to her long, long ago, she could feel another rush of emotion toward this man filling her heart.

  “What haven’t you said yet?” he asked.

  “Well, I suppose Children and Families considered me abused. They took me away and I went into foster care for a couple of months after I was found wandering through the projects where we lived one night. I’d woken up alone and gone looking for my parents, who were at a bar. I was seven.”

  His muscles tightened; she could feel it from his shoulder down to his legs. His reaction didn’t surprise her—this wasn’t easy for her to talk about, and it wouldn’t be easy for somebody like Mike, who only wanted to protect people, to hear.

  “Jesus.”

  “It’s okay. It’s over. They were a little better, for a while, anyway, after they got me back. Eventually I was old enough to take care of myself and it didn’t matter anymore. They’re both long gone. As is the little lost girl I was.”

  “But you’re alone.”

  “I’ve got Callie,” she insisted. And you. But she didn’t quite dare to say that aloud. “She and her family pretty much took me in during high school and gave me the closest thing to a normal life I’ve ever had. That’s why she’s like my sister. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

  “I’m glad she was there for you. But I’m still so sorry, angel.”

  “I had it worse than some, but not as bad as others. And in the end, I succeeded beyond their wildest expectations, and my own dreams. I refused to let whatever shitty things might have happened in my past determine my future.”

  He kissed her cheek, gently stroking her hip, tracing little circles on her skin. “You’re an amazing woman, Lindsey Smith. Thank you for telling me.”

  She turned to look at him, cupping his face, seeing the moisture in his eyes from the tears he wanted to shed for her. Her heart twisted, something broke open, and she found herself actually shedding a tear, too.

  “You’re an amazing man, Mike. Thank you so much for making me trust you enough to tell you.”

  9

  WHEN MIKE HEARD a knock on the door of his apartment on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, he figured his landlady was bringing him some flag-shape cookies, or maybe a red, white and blue cake. He considered ignoring the knock, since he’d just gotten out of the shower and wore only a pair of jeans, but the landlady would just use her key to let herself into his place and “surprise” him.

  She’d done that once—surprising him. He’d been surprised all right, considering he’d been walking naked from his bedroom to the kitchen to put on some coffee.

  He’d hoped that would have tau
ght her a lesson. Instead, if anything, he suspected she’d be quicker to use her key now than she’d been before that embarrassing incident.

  “Just a second,” he said, tossing the towel he’d used on his hair down. He made sure it landed on top of the large package he’d received in yesterday’s mail. He somehow didn’t think his landlady would react well to seeing a big foam device called a Sex Wedge standing in his apartment.

  Lindsey might have all the small toys covered, but he’d spotted this thing online when he’d been looking up her name on Google—gotta love targeted advertising—and had decided to buy it. All those other items had been samples. This was a present only for her. To be used only with him. He could hardly wait.

  For a second, he wondered if it might be Lindsey at the door, that she’d found some excuse to stop by. She’d never been to his place, since it was right in the middle of town with absolutely zero privacy. But maybe she’d dreamed up a reason.

  Ever hopeful, he pulled the door open but was shocked to see four people standing on his doorstep.

  “Surprise!” they all said.

  “Oh, my God, Nick? Iz?” He turned to the other couple. “Mark and Noelle? What the hell are you all doing here?”

  His cousin Nick’s bombshell wife, Izzie, pushed past him into the living room. “Are you going to invite us in?”

  “You’re in,” he said with a laugh, pressing a quick kiss onto her cheek. His spirits were rising by the second. He grabbed Mark and hugged him hard. “How are you doing, man?”

  “Surviving.”

  Nick clapped him on the back. “I’m okay, too, if it matters.”

  “Last time I checked, you were running a strip club and surrounded by women who are almost as beautiful as your wife. I know what kind of people surround Mark in his job, and they aren’t beautiful women.” And he had the scars to prove it.

  “Yeah, I’m familiar with the scum he has to deal with, too,” said Noelle, Mark’s wife, offering her husband a pointed stare. She was just as pretty as Izzie, in a softer, quieter way. Also a brunette, Noelle looked every inch a thirty-ish wife and mother.

  Izzie and Nick didn’t have kids yet, and he wasn’t sure they ever would. They were definitely the edgiest couple of the family, with her stripping background and his hard-ass, ex-Marine demeanor. But anyone could look at them and see they were still totally crazy in love. They didn’t need kids to complete their family; they just needed each other.

  Speaking of which, Mike peered out into the hall, then glanced back toward Mark, who was every inch a proud papa. “Where are the rugrats?”

  “Mama’s got them,” Mark explained. “It’s a big third-generation sleepover at the grandparents’ tonight.”

  “Is everyone there?” he asked, wondering how on earth they’d all fit into his Aunt Rosa and Uncle Anthony’s house.

  “Most of ’em. Joe and Meg dropped the girls off, and Tony and Gloria’s two youngest are there, as well.”

  All that was left were Lottie’s daughter and Luke’s twins and the whole gang would be represented. There were other cousins, children of his dad’s youngest two brothers, who had college-age kids. They hadn’t even started marrying and settling down. But he had no doubt they would—it was the Santori way. By the time all the branches on the family tree reproduced, they could probably populate a small town.

  “Get this,” Mark said. “Tony’s oldest isn’t there ’cause he’s on a date. Can you frigging believe that? Kid’s not even thirteen years old and already has girlfriends.”

  It sounded like little Anthony was a chip off the old block.

  Nick elbowed his twin, who was a little shorter and a little broader. They were fraternal, not identical, though they’d never be mistaken for anything but brothers. “I seem to recall you doing a little girlfriend juggling yourself in middle school.”

  Izzie smirked. “Pot, have you met Kettle here?”

  They all laughed, and Mike thought about the family gathering going on back in Chicago. He wondered if he and his brothers might be doing the same thing with their own kids in another five years or so. And not for the first time, he experienced a twist of loneliness in his gut and wondered if he’d made a huge mistake by moving here, so far away from everyone he knew and cared about.

  Except Lindsey.

  Yeah. She was here. And frankly, considering he had fallen crazy in love with her, she was enough.

  “I don’t have a lot of room in this place, but feel free to sit wherever there’s a spot,” he said, gesturing toward the couch. He went into the kitchen and grabbed the two chairs that fronted his small butcher-block table, and carried them in, as well. “Do you want coffee? Anything?”

  “I’d kill for a Diet Coke,” said Izzie.

  “Sorry, I don’t have any. I could run down to the general store and get some.”

  Noelle’s eyes rounded. “General store? Good grief, Mike, you said this was a small town, but I didn’t realize you’d moved to Walton’s Mountain.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, it takes a little getting used to.”

  He didn’t dare mention the Irish pizza place. As the sons of the man who owned one of the best Italian restaurants in Chicago, Nick and Mark might feel honor-bound to go over there and raise a little hell.

  Getting his cousins’ wives some coffee, and Nick and Mark each a beer, he excused himself to go into the bedroom and call Lindsey. She’d been expecting him to come down by two, and it was now after that.

  Since he wasn’t sure how long his family members would stay, he couldn’t tell her what time he’d make it down. He heard the disappointment in her voice, but knew better than to suggest she come up and make it a six-some. Even after all these weeks, she still seemed content to sneak around and keep their relationship strictly between them.

  He wasn’t going to be content with that much longer.

  They were coming close to D-day...aka, the last day of school. After that, there would be no reason for Lindsey to remain on Wild Boar. Her friend would have the whole summer with her baby, and Lindsey could go back to Chicago and find out where she stood with her job and all the rest of it.

  Mike honestly had no idea where he fit into her life, but oh, God, did he hope she wanted him somewhere in it. She hadn’t said it... They still danced around the subject of their relationship being anything other than a sexy affair. But he caught her looking at him sometimes, when they were making love, or just holding hands watching a movie, and he believed she cared for him. She just hadn’t been able to lower those walls enough to admit it yet.

  “I’ll call you as soon as I figure out what’s going on and how long they’re staying, okay? I doubt it’ll be overnight—the inn’s booked solid for the holiday weekend.”

  “Okay. Have fun with your family. I know you’ve missed them.”

  “Actually, right now, you’re the one I miss.”

  “You saw me yesterday.”

  “Yeah, for breakfast. It’s been over twenty-four hours.”

  “Better watch out there, buddy, or somebody will think you’re smitten.”

  “If that means they’ll think I’m crazy about you, they’d be right.”

  She didn’t respond, but he heard a sweet little sigh, and suspected she was pleased by the comment.

  Hey, maybe they were getting somewhere.

  Ending the call, he walked out of his bedroom to rejoin the others in his living room. To his surprise, they were not sitting on the couches and chairs where he’d left them. In fact, they were all standing in a semicircle, staring down at something on the floor between them. As soon as he entered, four heads jerked up, four sets of eyes staring at him assessingly.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I dunno, Mike. Why don’t you tell us?” asked Izzie in her naughtiest voice.

  Not getting
it, he walked around the back of the couch so he could see what they’d all been gaping at.

  “Oh, hell.”

  It was the sex wedge. Big, graphic, with bold lettering and a superhot illustration of its versatile uses, the thing would draw anybody’s eye. Considering it was here in his bachelor apartment, and none of his family were aware he’d been dating anyone, it must have been much too interesting to escape notice.

  “So?” Noelle asked. “Who is she?”

  “Who’s who?”

  “Oh, puh-lease,” Izzie said. She pointed to the box again. “If you were lonely and single, this package would contain a blow-up doll. Obviously this is not something you use unless you’ve got somebody to use it with.”

  Mike swiped a hand through his hair, embarrassed as hell. What was it with the women in his family that they always got into everybody else’s business?

  Nick and Mark exchanged a look and chuckled, obviously having noticed his discomfiture. “You might as well confess,” Mark said. “They’re going to nag you until you do.”

  “Where’d you meet her? Does she live here?” Izzie peered around her husband’s shoulder toward the bedroom. “Is she hiding in there?”

  “Of course not,” Mike snapped. Throwing himself onto the couch, he admitted, “Her name’s Lindsey. I met her on the ferry, and that’s as much as you need to know.”

  Nick cleared his throat.

  “Yes?” Mike asked.

  “Can I ask just one more thing?”

  “What is it?”

  “Where’d you get that thing? Because, damn, dude, I want one.”

  Izzie did that knuckle-punching thing wives did to their husbands. Nick grinned and rubbed his arm, then threw it over her shoulders and drew her close.

  “That’s not appropriate,” she said, sounding all prim.

  “Sorry. Everybody knows how appropriate you are.”

  She narrowed her eyes and stuck her index finger in his chest. “Shut up, Nick Santori, or I’ll never make you my special cannoli again.”