by JB Salsbury
“Wouldn’t the bedside table be more convenient?” I run my hands up his massive arms to his shoulders. “You know, closer to the bed?”
He positions himself over me, his muscled body held over mine. “Never had a woman in my bed before.” He rubs against me, scrambling my thoughts so I’m sure I misheard. “Baby, I hate to ask, but I need to know.”
“No, I’m not a virgin.”
His jaw hardens and he drops to his elbows so his chest presses to mine. He kisses me long, deep and deliberate while he slowly inches forward. He fills me inch by delicious inch until he can’t move any further.
His thumbs brush my cheekbones and he gazes down at me. “You okay?”
I wrap my legs around his hips. “Yes. Move.”
A cocky smirk tilts his lips before they press to mine and then he moves.
Boy, does he move.
Long powerful strokes followed by hard thrusts, he circles his hips and keeps me guessing to what he’ll do next. He kisses me, whispers dirty things against my lips and gentle encouragements in my ear.
My head spins, my vision blurs, and I wonder if it’s possible for sex to kill a person because my heart is beating so fast, my nerves coiled so tight, I think the incoming orgasm might stop my heart.
“You’re close. I can feel it,” he says, and I wonder what exactly he feels that would tell him that, but I’m incapable of speech. His hips roll, his thickness stretching me, pulsing inside me and when he pushes up to his hands and looks down between us, I lose it.
Stars burst behind my eyes and my back bows off the bed as he picks up speed, the power of his muscles work like a piston as he works above me, pulling every last bit of pleasure from my overworked body.
I’ve left my body, floating, only to get drawn back to earth when he dips his mouth to mine and groans into my mouth, his hard-on kicks inside me as his own release wracks his body. Goosebumps break out across his skin making his soft skin prickly all over.
He collapses on top of me and mutters, “I’m dead,” into my neck.
“Me too.”
He falls to my side, holds the base of his dick with a sigh. “Fuck me.”
“I thought I just did.”
His big body shakes the bed as he’s wracked with silent laughter. “I thought we were playing D&D.”
“Oh yeah, that too.”
He kisses me on the forehead. “You’re so fucking cute. I’ll be right back.”
With the absence of his body heat a chill races along my bare skin. I fold his comforter over me and watch his impressive ass, what I can see of it in the dim light, move to the bathroom, thinking back to what he said earlier.
Has he really never had another woman in his bed before?
If I am the only one, then… “He really does like me.”
“Yeah, babe.” He comes back to bed, peels the bedding back, and crawls in next to be. “I really do like you. And now that I’ve had you, I’m never gonna let you go.”
I nuzzle in close, my head on his shoulder and I count my blessings as the clock rolls over into the next day, solidifying this Christmas as the very best of my entire life.
Chapter Thirteen
Carey
There are benefits to waking up in my own bed beside a beautiful woman.
One, I knew right away where I was and who I was with. I’m almost positive I woke up with the same grin I fell asleep with.
Two, that having that beautiful naked woman sleeping against me, her head on my chest, arm thrown over my gut and her leg over mine is a wake-up call to all my senses.
And three, well… I don’t remember what three is because I’m giving my pretty girl a wake-up call of her own.
With my head under the covers, I part her thighs and press my lips between her legs. Her body jolts, her thigh muscles tense. I rub her thigh soothingly and kiss my way deeper between her legs. Her knees fall open and she groans so hard I swear I feel it on my tongue.
After we had sex last night I wondered if I’d feel any different about Rowan. I was surprised to discover that I did. But not in the way I thought I would.
Our bodies joined and moving together until we fell apart in each other’s arms, I was overcome with a fierce protectiveness. A ridiculous feeling of wanting to lock her away and keep her safe, to hide her from the rest of the world so no one could hurt her. And what’s worse, to keep her locked away so no one could have her but me.
I wish I could say those feelings were welcome, but frankly…they scare me. Because having nothing to lose means I can’t live carelessly. But having someone you’re terrified to live without makes life feel like walking a minefield. One misstep and boom! She’s gone.
As I held her while she slept, I swore I would do everything in my power to keep her. And when she gets sick of me and tries to leave, I’ll beg her to stay and do whatever I need to do to become the kind of man she deserves.
But that all starts with honesty.
And I believe I’m not the only one who felt the chemistry explode between us last night. I saw the trust in her eyes when I penetrated her body and I believed that shit, felt it down to my bones.
Oh yeah, so that’s what number three was.
Waking up with this beautiful woman in my bed, I was riddled with guilt for the one barrier, the one obstacle between us.
I need to confess about what happened in high school.
I know Rowan, she doesn’t strike me as the type to hold a grudge.
Step one, ply her with a mind-blowing orgasm.
Step two, drop the bomb.
Step three, beg her for forgiveness while promising her the world.
She’ll respect my honesty.
Pout a little.
But I’ll kiss her senseless and I’ll beg, on my knees if I have to, until she forgives me. Besides, it was a long time ago and I didn’t know her then so—
“Don’t stop,” she groans. Her fingers thread into my hair.
I add a finger, stroking her deep and she falls over the edge.
I groan as I drink her in, marveling at her taste and feeling like the luckiest man alive for being the one she gives it to.
When her body stops shaking, I crawl up her torso and kiss her lips.
I groan when she licks her mouth, tasting herself. “Have I told you lately how sexy you are?”
Her lips are swollen from the hours of kissing last night, her hair is tossed over around my pillows and I hope like hell they smell like her when she’s gone. “Not since last night.” Her lazy smile does weird shit behind my ribs. “What time is it?”
“Three.” I stay on top of her, loving the way our naked bodies feel together, her soft curves against my hard ones. I twirl her hair around my finger. “I set my alarm so you wouldn’t be late to work.”
“You did? Thank you. I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly last night. I would’ve slept all morning if you’d let me.”
“When’s your next morning off?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“It’s scheduled then. You, in my bed, sleeping in.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “Which reminds me. Come to my game tomorrow. I’ll get your airline tickets to Phoenix and back, you can sit with my family at the game.”
“Are you serious?”
“Ro.” I give her a look that I hope says I’m dead fucking serious.
“That’s so impulsive. I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Just say yes.”
Her answering smile brings lightness to my chest. “Okay. I’d love to.”
“Great. I have an extra jersey you can wear.”
Her mouth falls open. “I get to wear your jersey?”
I roll my eyes.
“Eek! Just like high school!”
“So fucking cute.” I kiss her again. “Speaking of high school, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“All right.” She looks down where my chest is pressed to hers. “Do you want to do this while you’re on top of me?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks grow pink and she covers her face with her hands. I hate that she has a physical reaction to something I did to her. “But I didn’t cheat, Carey. I know you probably don’t believe me, but it wasn’t my bottle.”
“I know that.”
She blinks up at me. “You do? You believe me.” The trust and hope in her eyes threatens to unman me.
“Yes, I believe you.”
She brings her mouth to mine and kisses me. “Thank you. My own parents didn’t even believe me. It means a lot that you do—”
“It was mine, Rowan.” There. I did it, the words are out there.
She tilts her head, a small smile tilting her lips. “It was yours? I’m so sure….” Her words die as quickly as her smile. “What are you saying?”
“The bottle, babe. It was mine. I dropped it and it rolled under your desk.”
“You cheated.”
“No, I didn’t get a chance to because I dropped the bottle. Then Prof Thorn saw you with it and I couldn’t confess because…”
“Because why?”
Because I’m weak. Because I didn’t want to get in trouble. I mean, what a stupid fucking question. Not a single person who cheats would confess unless caught red-handed.
“So you let me take the fall?” She wiggles beneath me, trying to get free, but I hold her to the bed easily with my weight.
“Ro, hear me out.”
“I lost my scholarship because of you!”
Oh fuck, she’s yelling now, and her words land a violent strike to my chest.
“Baby, calm down—”
“Calm down? You want me to calm down!” She squirms again. “Get off me!”
“Fuck.” I roll off of her.
She springs from my bed and covers her chest with one arm as she searches for her clothes. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
I sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I was afraid you’d do exactly what you’re doing now.”
With her leggings pressed to her chest, she whirls around to me. “So you decide to wait until after you have sex with me? What kind of a monster are you?”
“It’s not like that! I didn’t want to tell you, I planned to take it to my grave, but after last night I realized I want this, Rowan. I want you. I want us. And I know we could really have something special, but I couldn’t stand to start it with this one thing between us.”
“Start it?” She jabs a finger toward the bed. “It started when you screwed me in your bed!”
“Are you seriously going to let one stupid high school mistake ruin what we have?”
“Stupid mistake? Your stupid mistake was the catalyst for my entire life falling apart!” She rips her bra up off the ground and storms toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
I should have expected this.
I get dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, shoes and socks, and grab my phone and keys to take Rowan home.
When she comes out of the bathroom the lights are on and the fire in her eyes is undeniable. I plant myself in front of the door. “Wait, please, let’s work this out.”
“Move out of my way.” Her voice shakes with fury.
“Not until you talk to me.”
Her chest heaves and her fists clench at her sides. “You want me to talk? Okay. I live in a garage. I only take as many classes as I can afford and I do my homework in the middle of the night because I work three fucking jobs!”
I flinch and find it hard to hold eye contact as tears gather on her lashes.
“I have no friends because I don’t have time for them. I’ve had to skip meals because I couldn’t afford to eat!”
“Fuck, Ro…I’m sorr—”
“You robbed me of my scholarship, of money I earned to go to college! You cost me the respect of my professors, cheating went on my permanent record!”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t.” Her jaw ticks and she straightens her shoulders. “There’s nothing you could say that’ll erase what you did.” A humorless laugh falls from her lips. “I can’t believe I thought you were different.” Tears fall down her cheeks now and I feel my own eyes tearing up. I hate myself for hurting her. “You’re the same selfish, heartless, soulless prick that you were in high school.”
I have no defense. I’ve proven to be everything she’s accusing me of.
I nod and step aside. She doesn’t say anything to me, just storms out of my bedroom. I follow after her and grab her arm at the top of the stairs.
“Slow down, okay. I know you’re mad. Let me take you home and we’ll talk tonight after I take my final, okay?”
She shakes her head.
“I know I can make this right.”
“You fucked me in high school and then you fucked me in your bed.” She swipes at the tears on her cheeks. “I won’t allow you to fuck me again.”
“Stop staying that! You know what we have is better than that.”
She laughs as her eyes fill with fresh tears. “I don’t know anything right now.” She looks me up and down as if I’m a piece of trash. “And I don’t know you.”
She races down the stairs and I follow, but when she gets outside she stumbles to a stop. “I’m taking an Uber.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not getting in a car with you!”
She starts walking down the dark street. The neighborhood is safe, but it’s cold out and who knows how long she’ll walk before she’ll get an Uber.
“Rowan, stop!”
She holds her hand up flips me off and continues walking.
“Shit.” I run back into the house and run up to Spider’s room. I don’t bother knocking and when I walk in he’s awake and at his desk. “Dude, I need a favor.”
He sighs but stand, slips a shirt on, and grabs his keys. “I heard.”
“Promise me you’ll make sure she gets home okay.”
He salutes me and heads for the door. “Will do.”
I head back to my room, fall face first onto my bed, and breathe in her sweet vanilla scent. How the hell could things go so wrong?
Time, she just needs time.
Right?
How can I possibly make things right between us?
If I could go back in time I’d do everything differently. But I can’t. All I have to work with is the future.
I can’t fathom any future without Rowan in it.
Chapter Fourteen
Rowan
Thirty-one hours after I stormed out of Carey’s bed it feels like a lifetime ago. As I steam the millionth cup of milk for a white chocolate latte, I yawn long and hard.
I shouldn’t be this tired. After my shift yesterday I went straight home and slept, waking up only to shower and eat before going right back to bed.
When I woke up this morning for work I had two missed calls from Carey The Anaconda Slade and four text messages asking for me to answer my phone.
The only explanation for me being as tired as I am is depression.
Which only makes me hate Carey more.
One minute I’m holding all the control and the next I’m handing him my heart and giving him permission to stomp all over it.
And he did.
Boy, did he ever.
God, I can’t breathe when I think about how he let me take the blame for cheating.
What kind of a person does that?
Certainly not the kind I’d ever be friends with, let alone date!
“White chocolate mocha!” I set the drink down and realize no one is responding to my call out because they’re all focused on the big screen television.
The bowl game.
The reason we’re mostly dead today and why I’m working a double. Anyone close to campus is at the game in Phoenix.
And of course my manager insists on playing it here.
“White chocolate
mocha!” I yell louder making a table of people jump. I hold the cup up and wiggle it obnoxiously. “Did you forget you ordered a drink?”
A girl huffs and gets up, coming to me to get her drink. “Sorry.”
I sigh. “No I’m sorry.” I’m an asshole.
I grab a rag and go around wiping tables. The sun is out and I wonder if today I should drive to the beach for dinner. Alone. As if to torture me Carey’s phantom touch brushes against me, reminding me of all I had and lost so quickly. Life is so cruel, and love is the cruelest. Not that I loved him, but I could have. Eventually. If he hadn’t so brutally stabbed me in the chest.
“What?! That’s bullshit!”
I whirl around to the table of five, one of the men staring angrily at the big screen television.
“Why the hell aren’t they playing him!” one guy says.
“Maybe they’ll put him in later,” the girl says.
Another guy drops his head dramatically. “He’s wearing his Grizzlies Football sweatshirt. If he were playing he’d be in his uniform. They don’t stand a chance without him.”
I stare at the television screen, my heart in my throat.
There, standing on the sidelines at Chase Field in Phoenix, Arizona alongside his teammates is Carey. But the guy at the table was right. He’s not wearing a football uniform. I squint, trying to read his expression but his face is hidden under a Bear State University football hat.
“Is he injured?” the guy at the table says.
The other guy leans in. “Shh, they’re talking about it right now.”
My feet carry me closer to the television as the announcer talks.
Such a shame Carey Slade is sidelined due to academic probation.
“He’s not playing,” I say to myself. “His final. He must not have passed his final.”
The wave of disappointment that comes next is crushing. Not disappointment in him as much as disappointment in myself. I thought I had adequately prepared him for that test. He aced the last mock-final. What on earth could’ve gone wrong? This bowl game would’ve been a highlight in his football career.
I momentarily forget what he did to me in high school and wish I could call him and ask what happened with his retake. Apologize for not properly preparing him. Logically I know I’m not wholly responsible for his failure, and yet I can’t convince my heart that I’m not somehow at fault. If he’d had a different tutor, one who didn’t get stuck staring at his arms, or falling into his shameless flirting.
