AlwaysYou

by Karen Stivali

  Always You

  Karen Stivali

  When Shari discovers that her fiancé has been cheating on her, she lets the wedding go on according to plan. Except while everyone else is at the church, Shari is heading to the airport to fly off on her honeymoon with her best friend, Jon.

  Jon is only too happy to help Shari escape what he knew would have been an awful marriage. Plus he’s thrilled by the prospect of time alone with her in a tropical paradise. He’s always loved her, and desired her as a lot more than a friend.

  A steamy, romantic night on the beach turns into a whirlwind of desire as they take their friendship to multiple new levels of passion. But when Shari’s apologetic ex tries to win her back, she must choose between the life she thought she was going to have with him and the possibility of love with Jon.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Always You

  ISBN 9781419935107

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Always You Copyright © 2011 Karen Stivali

  Edited by Jillian Bell

  Cover design by Syneca

  Electronic book publication September 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.

  The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  Always You

  Karen Stivali

  Chapter One

  Jon raced Shari down the hallway of the hotel, feeling as if they were back in college again. The keycard jammed the first two times he shoved it into the door. She tried to grab it from him, but her fingers were drunk and clumsy and she wound up gripping his wrist instead. The sight of her fingers curled around any part of him sent his brain into overdrive, nearly making him forget how bad he needed to pee.

  The door opened wide, banging into the closet behind it.

  “Shhhhh,” she said, louder than he could imagine anyone making the shushing sound. “You’ll wake the neighbors.”

  “Fine, I’ll be quiet, in the bathroom.” He scooted past her and slammed the door. The toilet lid clanged against the tank. “Unhhh.” It felt so good to finally get some relief. Shari banged on the door.

  “Hurry up, I’ve gotta go.”

  The sound of her voice made him want to keep his cock in his hand a few minutes longer to relieve the other type of tension that had been coursing through him all night.

  “Jon, I mean it. I’m gonna pee on the floor.”

  He tucked himself back into his pants then flushed. The second he opened the door, she stumbled into the bathroom and slammed it in his face.

  As much as he wanted her, he knew tonight wasn’t the night. She was as drunk as he’d seen her in years. She had every right to be trashed. It wasn’t every day a woman walked out on her own wedding. He still couldn’t believe she’d done it.

  For years he’d tried to convince her that Phil was not the guy for her, but she’d never listened. She always had an excuse for whatever bullshit Phil was doing. “He’s under a lot of stress at work.” “These women all come on to him, he can’t help it.”

  Every time she’d defended him it had made Jon’s blood boil, but he knew how stubborn Shari was. If he’d tried to push too hard he’d have been pushing her even closer to Phil. She was contrary and defiant and hated being told what was best for her. When she’d shown up on Jon’s doorstep, suitcase in hand the morning of her wedding, he thought she needed a ride to the church.

  Instead, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into his bedroom, a scenario he’d envisioned countless times over the course of their friendship. Since they’d first met he’d never wanted anything more than for her to be in his bed, but that had never happened. She always had a boyfriend and he was stuck in the friend zone, watching as she went from one bad boyfriend to the next.

  * * * * *

  “I’m leaving Phil,” she said, swinging open his closet door and dragging his suitcase out into the middle of his floor. “And you’re coming with me. I paid for this honeymoon and I’m going to enjoy it.”

  “What?” had been the only response he’d been able to muster.

  She ran jittery hands through her auburn hair, pushing it back off her face. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I went snooping and I found a bunch of emails. He’s still seeing his ex. Three years with me and he’s still with her. They’ve got plans to hook up as soon as we get home from our honeymoon.” Her voice had cracked, betraying the hurt behind her manic bravado.

  “So you’re calling off the wedding?” His heart was beating in his ears as he tried to process what she was saying.

  “I’m not going to bother calling it off. Let him get there and stand up in front of everyone and wait for me to walk down the aisle. Let him be the one humiliated for a change. I’ll be at the airport with my best friend and by the time he figures out what happened we’ll be on our way to Aruba. Unless you don’t want to.” Her hand froze on the stack of t-shirts she’d been about to shove into the suitcase. Her brown eyes were rimmed with red, full of hope and fear as she looked up at him.

  He’d have agreed to anything to get that hurt look off her face. “If that’s what you want, I’m your man.” How he wished that were true on all levels.

  * * * * *

  The sound of the toilet flushing snapped him back to reality. The water blared as she turned the sink on full force. He took his wallet out of his pocket and tossed it onto the hotel dresser, then stepped out of his jeans and flopped onto his bed. He’d hoped they’d get stuck with a king-sized but the hotel wasn’t full and the annoyingly accommodating concierge guy had been all too happy to find them a room with two queen-sized mattresses.

  The air was thick and humid. He got under the sheet in an attempt at modesty, but even that felt too stifling. His t-shirt was already starting to cling to his chest, making him wish he could sleep in the nude, preferably out on the deck. Having Shari naked alongside him would have completed the picture. “Fuck.” The sheet was tented. He flipped off the bedroom light and peeled of his shirt. The ceiling fan sent a gentle breeze across his bare chest, but the effect was anything but cooling.

  He heard the water turn off in the bathroom and wondered what she was doing. Is she still dressed? Did she just wash her face? Are beads of water dripping down her chest?

  The visions that flashed in his mind were interrupted by the glare of light when the bathroom door swung open. He caught a glimpse of her in bra and panties before she flipped the
switch, sending the room back into semidarkness. The moonlight filtering through the parted curtains cast a delicate glow on the room, blue and wavy as the shadows of palm trees swayed across the bed.

  Shari tripped, catching herself on the foot of his bed. “What the fuck? Are these your jeans?” She bent down and picked them up and he heard change fall out of the pockets as she tossed them onto the chair.

  “Sorry.” He tried to make out as much detail as he could in the dim light. She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail and her bra and panties were white, reflecting what little light was left in the room. His cock throbbed, straining against his boxers until it finally found its way out alongside his thigh. He rolled away from her, sandwiching it between the mattress and his leg.

  Shari threw aside her blankets and crawled beneath her sheet. “What a night.”

  Jon didn’t trust his voice to work. “Yeah.”

  “Thanks for saving me from that asshole Bruno at the bar.”

  “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

  The sound of her laughter tugged at his stomach. He longed to feel the vibration of her against his chest, to take her in his arms and finally do the things he’d been dreaming about all these years. A bead of pre-cum formed at the tip of his cock, which begged to be touched.

  Shari’s breathing quieted and he assumed she’d dozed off. She’d probably sleep like a log. He shifted against the bed, feeling the wet spot he was creating on the sheet. He wanted to throw the sheet aside and jerk off, long and slow, watching her sleep, but he knew he shouldn’t. If she woke up and saw him that would end any chance he’d ever have with her. She’d think he was a pervert.

  He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything other than her mostly naked body or his aching loins. It was pointless. Knowing she was breathing not four feet away was more than he could stand. He opened his eyes again, finding them even more adjusted to the darkness of the room. He could see her silhouette in the dusky light, her breasts rising and falling under the pearly white sheet. Her lips were parted, her neck slightly arched. Christ, she’s beautiful. His gaze traveled farther south and to his surprise he noticed her hips were slowly rocking.

  He squinted, thinking his imagination was toying with him, but it was real. Up and down, up and down, her pelvis rolled gently beneath the covers. He could see that her arms were at her sides and realized her hands could easily be between her legs.

  His cock swelled, heightening all his senses as he strained to see what she was doing. He could see the folds of the sheet toward the foot of the bed. Her knees were bent out to the sides, rising and falling in rhythm with her hips. Holy fuck. He felt his heart try to pound its way out of his chest. She’s getting off.

  Jon moved his hand as slowly as he could, knowing any sound would make her stop immediately. He inched his way beneath the sheet until he made contact with his swollen head. The sensation of his palm grazing the sensitive tip was almost too much. He swallowed the hiss that tried to escape his lips. He slid his hand down the length of his burgeoning shaft, freeing it more completely from his boxers. Moving as quietly as he could, he rubbed his cock against his thigh.

  Shari sighed softly, her breath catching in her throat. Her entire body stilled as she must have realized she’d made noise. Jon remained frozen though his cock twitched wildly against his palm. Seconds dragged by as he waited to see if she’d stop altogether. Impatience throbbed beneath his hand.

  What seemed like an eternity later, she shifted, extending one leg so that her foot poked out from beneath the sheet. He held his breath as her hips resumed their rhythmic motion. Her breathing seemed faster, coming in raspier puffs. He wished he could see exactly what she was doing. Is she rubbing? Are her fingers inside? He imagined her wetness as his own oozed from him, allowing him to glide more effortlessly along the ridges of his thigh. His middle finger teased the tip, massaging the slick slit. He hadn’t jerked off with someone else in the room since college, and never with a woman present. The pressure built from his chest through his belly, concentrating in a knot of heat deep within his balls.

  He heard her head rubbing against her pillow, could see her hair spilling over the edge of the bed. Her hips moved faster. He thought he could detect the faint sound of her fingers slipping back and forth through her wetness but that could have been the sound of his own hand. His gaze was locked on her, his finger stroking against the underside of his cock in such a maddening fashion he wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait. Then her body jolted. Her leg straightened, the foot that peeked out of the covers pointed and froze in midair and he knew she was coming.

  That did it. His balls drew up so tight it felt as though they were pulling every ounce of energy up through his thighs and his belly. With one final flick of his finger the cum surged out of him. Thick streams shot down the length of his leg, all the way to his tensed calves. He struggled not to cry out. The pulsing continued as he tried to control his breath.

  Once he regained his focus he glanced at Shari. Her bed was still, her foot relaxed and hanging limply off the side. She was asleep, her breathing deep and slow.

  Jesus. He let go of his cock, grimacing as he felt the sheet stick to his skin. He grabbed his rolled-up t-shirt from the side of the bed and mopped up what seemed like an endless amount of semen. That’ll be an unpleasant surprise for housekeeping.

  Chapter Two

  Shari awoke with a stream of light burning its way across her eyes. She shifted out of its path, onto the side of the bed that was still obscured in shadows. Her eyes felt gritty and were nearly glued shut from the mascara she’d forgotten to wash off before bed.

  Bed. She barely remembered getting there. Her head ached as she tried to recall the blur of events. There was the hotel bar. The memory of the pulsing club music made her head throb and her stomach knot. Margaritas. Lots of margaritas. And Jon. He was the one pleasant memory from the past twenty-four hours.

  From the past eight years, really. She’d always been able to count on Jon. She stretched, feeling her muscles stiffen then relax as she turned to look at him. He was flat on his back, fast asleep. It always amazed her how innocent he looked when he was sleeping. Sandy bedhead hair in complete disarray, thick eyelashes curling against his high cheekbones, golden-brown stubble covering his strong jawline, his raspberry lips full and relaxed. He was a ridiculously handsome man.

  Her gaze wandered down, across his smooth chest, to the dense patch of hair that swirled around his navel, trailing enticingly in a line that led lower. The sheet stood out impressively far and she realized with a surge of heat between her legs that he was hard. Her eyes remained glued to the image, her body fluttering in response, then the night before flashed back to her. The hum of the ceiling fan brought back a foggy memory of her nipples hardening beneath her bra cups, her hands running down her belly, her fingers slipping between the folds of her flesh. Oh my God, did I…?

  The flush of heat crept over her entire body, concentrating on her cheeks as she realized with a swift rush of embarrassment that she most certainly had. Did he hear me? The thought was beyond what she could handle. He couldn’t possibly. He was pretty drunk too, he was probably passed out cold. And I was really quiet. I think. The heat in her face burned more intensely and she crawled out of bed and tiptoed into the bathroom.

  She turned on the shower, hoping the rush of the water would clear her head and wash away some of her fears.

  The hot spray soothed her aching muscles and the lavender-scented soap was calming. She rolled her neck, wondering how her life had managed to turn so completely upside down. Leaving Phil was the right thing to do. That much she knew for certain. As much as she hated to admit it, Jon had been right. Phil was an ass. It had just taken her this long to finally accept it.

  Jon. What would I do without him? He’d dropped everything, calling to reschedule meetings from the cab as they rushed to the airport. She couldn’t imagine ever having a better friend. Through every bad breakup, her mother’s d
eath, her company closing—every crisis for nearly a decade he’d been by her side, on her side. Tears stung the backs of her eyes.

  Pounding on the bathroom door startled her. “You gonna be in there all day? Some of us have to take a piss.”

  “That didn’t seem to bother you last night when I had to go. You’ll just have to hold it.”

  She heard him groan and her mind went straight to the image of his raised bedsheet. Heat coursed through her and she nearly lost her balance. Get a grip. He’s your best friend. She couldn’t keep the naughty thoughts at bay. He’d always been attractive but he’d grown into his looks even more so the past few years. She saw how other women looked at him. Knew how much they wanted him. She’d been at the receiving end of many hateful glances when she’d left bars or parties with him on her arm. He dated, but never seemed to settle with anyone for any length of time, always finding some fault, some reason to stop calling. Guess when you look as good as him you can afford to be choosy.

  He banged on the door again. “You’re a cruel woman, Shari. Hurry up. You’re clean enough.”

  She didn’t feel clean. She felt ridiculously dirty as she imagined him with his hand around his cock. Stop it. Keep your best friend out of the drama of your fucked-up life. He’s all you have left.

  Shari turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. Even in the foggy mirror she could see how red her face was. She hoped he’d be in too big a hurry to notice.

  He rushed into the bathroom the second she opened the door.

  Jon could hear her giggling. He shook his head. She could be such a pain in the ass. She had no idea how much physical torture she’d inflicted on him over the years. Seeing her saunter by soaking wet and draped in a towel had instantly brought back memories of last night.