Blushing Pink

by Jill Winters

  It took only a few moments for Reese to become frantic with self-consciousness. He was reading with no expression, stone-faced, obviously loathing her book, and she wanted him to stop reading it. Now.

  "Actually," she said suddenly, "um... that's enough..."

  She leaned to turn the laptop away, and Brian said, "Hey, don't do that." He tilted it back and continued to read.

  "No, really... I-I changed my mind—"

  "Shh, I'm at a great part," he said, eyes fixed on the screen. Did he actually like it... or was he merely being polite?

  "Brian, you don't have read anymore, really—"

  "Shh," he said. "I'm trying to concentrate."

  She saw the faint trace of a smile on his face, so she smiled, too. "Okay, sorry," she said, and then tried to move off his lap, to keep his circulation moving. Only he didn't let her go; he kept her snugly in his arms while he read on.

  She tried to relax against him, to rest her head on his shoulder, but it was nothing more than a pose.

  Her body was coursing with a nervous kind of adrenaline. Would what he say when he finished? Would he be encouraging? And would it all be bullshit?

  When Brian was finished, an odd expression crossed his face—maybe a mix between confusion and frustration. He turned his head, looking disappointed.

  She swallowed hard—it was worse than she thought.

  "So?" he said.

  "So what?"

  "So what happens?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "After Trent and Monique get to the abandoned warehouse," Brian said urgently. "C'mon, what happens? You just left me hanging."

  "Oh," she said, relieved. Then, assessing his expression, she felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips, because he was such an adorable sweetheart, she didn't ever want to lose this moment. She blew out a breath with mock regret. "Gee, I don't know."

  "What do you mean, you don't know? You can't tell me what happens?"

  She shrugged guiltily. "I'm sort of making it up as I go along."

  "Oh, my God, I can't believe this!" he said, acting outraged—but she saw the laughter in his eyes. "You could've at least warned me before I got hooked."

  She laughed as he stood up and lifted her with him.

  "Sorry, I wasn't thinking," she said, giggling as he carried her.

  "All right, that's it. Now you're gonna pay." He flung them both onto the bed.

  "Oh, no, what are you gonna do?" she said, hugging him.

  "Mmm..." He slid his hands under his shirt she wore to cup her breasts. "I don't know yet... I'll make it up as I go along." She giggled a little more, and then pulled back so she could look at him. He looked back—straight into her eyes—and she felt a kind of heady euphoria swirl around inside her. She sighed blissfully as Brian dropped a kiss on her forehead.

  "By the way," she said softly, "I meant to ask you, how's Danny? Any word from the doctor?"

  "Yeah, he said she's okay, but he thinks all the stress she's under might affect her pregnancy." Worry crossed his features, and Reese ran her hand gently along his jaw to comfort him.

  "I'm sorry," she said, "but I'm sure she'll be all right. After the baby's born, she's moving in with your parents, right? In Miami?"

  "Yeah, I'm really hoping everything works out."

  Reese smiled at him, and continued to stroke his jaw. "It will. You'll be an uncle." He shrugged casually, so she decided to let it be for the moment.

  His lips captured hers in a soft, gentle kiss, as he caressed her face with his fingers and ran them up through her hair. "Hey, remember that night I ran into you outside Roland and Fisk? You know, when you were running from that psycho?"

  "Uh-huh," she said, sinking her cheek more deeply into his palm.

  "Remember I told you I was so late because I was busy?"

  "Mmm-hmm... what about it?"

  "Total lie," Brian said huskily. "I made that up."

  "But why?"

  Vaguely grinning, he replied, "Because I thought if I came at the end of your shift, we might go out after. That night worked out exactly like I would've wanted it to." He kissed her and added, "Except I went home."

  Grasping his head, Reese pulled him in and kissed him with all that she had. "Brian," she said against his mouth, "what's gonna happen?"

  He stilled, and she could feel how desperately her eyes were searching his. Finally he said, "Whatever you want. Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

  Reese's heart fluttered wildly. What should she say? Should she play games? Keep an air of mystery? Or should she simply lay it all out there?

  "Get rid of Veronica."

  She should really be ashamed of herself. Veronica was a human being with feelings, and what's more, she was a fellow woman. She didn't deserve to be discarded like worthless baggage. But, damn it, that was exactly what Reese wanted. She wanted her dumped, dropped, kicked to the proverbial curb, and out of Brian's life, once and for all.

  She couldn't help it—in such a short time, she'd become so possessive of him, it was difficult to understand herself. But he'd asked her what she wanted, so she'd told him.

  "I'm sorry," she said even though she really wasn't, "but that's how I feel. I want to be with you, but if Veronica is gonna be in the picture, then it's not gonna work. And I don't care about all the semantics of how she fits into your life, or if you're 'technically' together or not together, or any of that."

  "Look, Brian, the truth is, I think I'm at a point in my life when I just don't want to waste my time. If that scares you then I guess I understand, but..."

  She paused, hoping he'd take the opportunity to say something reassuring. But he didn't. In fact, he didn't say anything. Not for a long moment anyway; then his face broke into a warm smile, and he whispered, "That doesn't scare me."

  "It doesn't?"

  He shook his head. "No way. I want to be with you, too." Elation coursed through her, and she found it hard to speak. "Reese, I just want you to know that Veronica and I talked about her coming to Ben's wedding a long time ago—way before I saw you again. We'd only talked casually about it, but then recently she told me she was counting on it, and... look, I know there's no good excuse."

  "You probably think my situation with her is nuts, and I guess it really doesn't make much sense...." His voice trailed off, and a look of genuine weariness crossed his face.

  "You still have feelings for her, is that it?" Reese asked, painfully dreading the answer.

  "No! No, no—I mean, not the way you think."

  He went on to explain why he had first considered getting back together with Veronica, how lonely and miserable his life had become, how he'd since realized it wasn't what he wanted but he didn't know exactly how to handle everything—so he'd handled it all like shit.

  Reese pondered everything, then asked, "So how long were you guys together?"

  "Eight years."

  "What!" She bolted upright in bed. "Eight years! Nobody told me that." Covering her eyes with her palm, she shook her head, and mumbled, "Oh, my God. Eight years, eight freaking years."

  Abruptly she rolled toward the edge of the bed, saying, "Good-bye," when Brian's hand caught her arm.

  "Reese, what?" he said, concerned.

  "Brian, please," she said, facing the other side of the room. "Eight years, that's like... forever." He tugged on her arm until she reluctantly turned back around. She brought her hand up to pinch the tension out of her forehead.

  It wasn't working. "Oh, this is so much worse than I thought—you're in so much deeper than I'd ever realized."

  "No, no," he insisted, sitting up and bringing himself closer. "I'm not—really."

  "Right, after that long, you guys probably know everything about each other—how am I supposed to compete with that?" Out of context, she mumbled sadly, "And she's a dancer."

  "You're not competing, believe me. And even if you were, there'd be no competition." Reese rolled her eyes, not looking too convinced.

  "Come here,"
he said softly. "Come on..." He coaxed her into his arms with his gentleness and his warmth. Anyway, she was so crazy about him, she couldn't imagine resisting.

  Her head was tucked under his chin, as they were both awkwardly sitting on the bed now, with their arms around each other. Brian was stroking her back, and Reese was trying not to dissolve into a weak, spineless puddle. "As far as Veronica knowing everything about me," he said, "well, I don't know about that. I mean, I'm not the same person I was when I was with her. I've changed a lot, and so has my life."

  "So what are you saying?" Reese whispered.

  "I'm saying that we're not the same people we were when we were together—there's nothing left between us. I mean, nothing left to build on, anyway. At this point, it's all just residual bullshit."

  She paused, and then pushed back to look into his eyes. "Well, I'm sorry, but I can't deal with residual bullshit, either. If we're going to have any kind of relationship, it has to be you and me—not you, me, and an unstable ex who won't let the dream die."

  He grinned at that, in spite of her serious tone of voice. "It won't be like that," he promised. "Look, let's just get through the wedding, and then I'll tell her once and for all."

  "Tell her what?" she pushed. She had to push. Weak, yes, but she'd meant what she said. She wasn't going to share him.

  "I'll tell her that we don't have a future together. Period. It will be the truth."

  Reese swallowed, and looked down at the bedspread. She could almost feel herself trembling. She wished Brian didn't have such a devastating effect on her. (Actually, she didn't.)

  Brian rose up on his knees in the center of the bed and pulled Reese to him, bringing her up on her knees, too. "Then it'll be you and me," he said gruffly, hugging her tight. "I want that, too."

  "You do?" she whispered. "Yes," Brian said. "Just you and me." Reese smiled into his shoulder and clung to his strength and silently prayed, Forever.

  Chapter 27

  Her cell phone rang, and when she heard it she jerked awake, mistaking it for her alarm, but almost immediately her mind cleared and she realized it was coming from the little device on the nightstand. Then she realized that it was barely five in the morning.

  "Hello?" she whispered, angling her upper body toward the far side of the bed so she wouldn't wake Brian. By the even hum of his breathing, he was still sleeping soundly.

  "Hi, Reese. I'm glad I caught you."

  You have got to be kidding me.

  "Professor?"

  "Yes, I was wondering if you had my notes for chapter ten on hand." Brian stirred beside her; his arm slid casually across her waist, and his breath breezed lightly across her cheek.

  "Reese, did you hear me?" Kimble said, sounding impatient. "I really can't afford to waste precious time."

  Okay, that did it. Call it a delayed reaction, call it a mood shift brought on by unbelievable sex. Whatever it was, Reese was not going to take any more guff from Leopold Kimble.

  "Professor, do you realize what time it is?" she asked, not expecting any kind of direct answer. As soon as he began circumventing, she cut him off. "Look, I'm going to be very honest: You have a lot of nerve calling me at this hour."

  Silence.

  "I have always helped you, I have never slacked on a deadline, and you know that. But you seem to be forgetting that my fellowship stipulates that I allot twenty-two hours a week working for you. Twenty-two. As in, no less and no more. Yet you've been running me ragged since day one, exploiting me like crazy, and I just can't take it anymore!"

  She was aware that she was no longer whispering, and she was also aware that she'd be more than thrilled to make it up to Brian later. But first things first. "Now, I'll be more than happy to discuss chapter ten, or anything else that you want, during reasonable working hours," she stated firmly. "But if you need someone on call twenty-four-seven then maybe you'd better talk to the administration about getting a replacement for me."

  "No!" Kimble spoke suddenly. "No, no," he insisted, sounding panicked. "Please, I don't want a replacement!"

  Now Reese was silent.

  "Please," Kimble went on. "I am sorry if I've been giving you too much work, but please, I'm sure we can decide on a schedule more suitable to your needs."

  "What?"

  "Reese, I need you," he said, in a Twilight Zoneesque moment of vulnerability. "I don't know if I'll be able to finish my book without your special touch."

  Special touch? She blinked and settled back against the pillows. She'd thought Kimble would either threaten her or talk over her with more deadlines and BS. She'd never expected anything that resembled sanity or appreciation.

  Brian tightened his arm around her, indicating that he was awake and on her side. Looking over, she smiled apologetically for waking him. He responded by kissing her cheek and letting his lips linger.

  "Reese? Please say something," Kimble implored.

  "Oh, yes, I'm here," she said. "Well, Professor, if you think we can work something out—"

  "We can, we can! I am absolutely sure of it."

  She couldn't help grinning at Kimble's complete turnaround. Here all this time she'd been way too afraid to voice her position, and now, out of nowhere, it seemed crazy to be afraid of Kimble. "Well... all right," she said, enjoying her little stint as a hard-ass.

  He let out an audible sigh of relief. "Oh, good," he said. "Well, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing."

  "Sleeping," she said pointedly.

  "Ah, yes, of course, the time. Well, then—"

  "Oh, Professor?"

  "Yes?"

  "I was just wondering... I know it's none of my business but... well, how come you never seem to work Kenneth as hard as you work me?"

  "I thought that would've been rather obvious," Kimble said. "You're much smarter."

  Two hours later, Brian heard the shower running, and couldn't resist. The bathroom door was ajar, and when he nudged it open his body immediately jolted at the vision of Reese's silhouette through the light ' blue shower curtain. She was washing her curvy little body everywhere, and arching her back to rinse her hair. The steam in the tiny bathroom was already making him sweat. It took him two seconds to drop his boxers and snap on a condom. Fully aroused, he stepped into the shower.

  * * *

  From behind, slow, hot hands slithered up Reese's stomach, and upon contact she let out a startled yelp. Realizing it was Brian didn't help. She suddenly felt shy, afraid of what he might think of her soft, round body now that it was under fluorescents. She was about to turn in his arms, so she'd at least be facing him, when he murmured "Mmm..." and cupped her breasts in his hand. He played with them a little, and then moved a hand up to brush a clump of her wet hair aside, and placed open, hot kisses along the back of her neck.

  Now Reese relaxed, sighing while Brian kissed down her back and stroked her belly. After he soaped up his hands, he slid them over her slowly, rubbing lather sensually across her stomach and breasts and down her sides. Reese shivered because it felt so good, so hypnotic, and then she sagged against him, resting her back against the solid warmth of his chest. He moved his open mouth up her neck and along the back of her ear.

  "I'm sorry..." he whispered.

  "What?"

  "Last night, I was..." What? she wondered. Spectacular? Endowed? Stallion-esque? He kissed the skin below her ear and murmured, "I was too rough."

  "No, you weren't," she said brokenly. "What do you mean? You didn't hurt me." Not exactly the truth. She'd woken up sore but she couldn't absolutely swear that was Brian's fault, since she'd been bucking and fucking like a wild animal. Anyway, the point was, she was feeling less and less sore by the second....

  "But still," he was saying now, dragging his lips over her shoulder blades and running the flat of his palm over her nipple. She arched hard at the sensation. "I just mean that I should've been... slower... softer."

  His warm, soapy hands continued demonstrating those exact principles until Reese was squirm
ing against him, feeling frustrated by the thick, hot erection pressing against her back.

  His right arm coasted around her stomach one more time, holding her like a fragile doll, and Reese thought she might explode, when suddenly, with a light jerk, she was pulled up against him, and she moaned at the feel of him, hard and engorged against her bottom.

  Whispering his name, she felt one of his slippery hands smooth down her back, and lower, until Brian was sliding two fingers into her vagina from behind. She gasped as he pushed his fingers deeper, making her tremble unsteadily.

  "Here, bend over a little," he said.

  "Brian..." She sounded throaty and hot and unsure of what to do.

  "It's okay; put your hands on the wall," he said, his voice almost raspy. He spread his hand over her abdomen and drew her bottom toward him. "Don't worry; it's okay," he said again. From anyone else, that would not have made her feel better.

  Soon she was bent over, bracing her hands on the shower wall as hot water beat down on her neck and back and glided down her body. Brian's fingers were still inside her, and he jerked them a little—each time stirring her, before withdrawing, then going in deeper.

  "I... I can't... I can't take this..." Reese choked out after several long moments.

  She was rocking her body in time with his fingers and making guttural, aroused sounds that were apparently part of her repertoire now. Brian stilled his hand and bent his body to whisper into Reese's hair, "Do you want to make love again?" She moaned in response, and splayed her hands wider on the wall, dipping her head down in excruciating anticipation.

  Soon Brian's hand was gone, and Reese was rocking her body backward, urging him to do something with her. To finish what he'd started. And that was when she felt it—his hot, bulging cock probing her exactly where his fingers had been.

  A surge of excitement shot through her, as she felt him position himself, bringing both his hands up to hold her breasts, and then in one swift motion thrust into her. She cried out as he drove into her from behind, grunting with each thrust. He was hitting all the same spots as before, but at this angle the sensations were different. And just as the heat built up to the point of unbearable, and the friction was branding and scoring her flesh, Brian pulled out.