Not So New in Town

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Not So New in Town Page 23

by Michele Summers


  “Uh, Brogan”—pant, pant.

  He needed to taste her, breathe in her essence, and then he needed to claim her…own her…bind her to him. He pushed off her bottoms. He slid his palm up the smooth length of her thigh. “I want to give you this.” He gently worked his fingers between her clenched thighs. “Open for me.” Lucy hesitated for only a half second. Her legs spread wide, she shuddered as he ran his fingers across her slick flesh.

  “Oh my,” she groaned.

  He cupped her behind, lifting her hips for the access he craved. Breathing her scent, a thought struck him like a thunderbolt of lightning.

  He needed her.

  For more than her marketing abilities. He needed her on a daily basis. His heart probably knew this fact way before his head had climbed on board. But Brogan chased the thought away, refusing to give it power and refusing to admit that she controlled him. He focused on giving her pleasure…putting her first. He rubbed his stubble along her sensitive inner thighs, loving the sound of her labored breathing as he kissed a hot trail toward the core of her silky flesh.

  “You’re so slick…for me.” He kissed her inner thighs before sliding his tongue inside her heat.

  “B-Brogan,” she moaned, arching her back and thrusting her hips up with a physical demand for more.

  “Mmm, my favorite dessert.” His tongue danced around her swollen flesh as he teased with bold strokes. Her head thrashed from side to side; moaning, she clutched the blanket with her balled fists.

  “Like that?”

  “Sweet, merciful coconut muffins! Don’t toy with me,” Lucy yelled.

  Laughing, he swirled his tongue at the center of her core. She grabbed his head and pulled him tighter, sighing her pleasure. He held her hips with a firm grip and twirled his tongue around her silken folds, sucking until she arched her back and breathed his name.

  Desire singed his insides, pouring through his veins. Her pleasure left him hungry and wanting, aching with need to plunge deep inside her. Lucy panted and quivered from the aftereffects of her orgasm. Suddenly, she pulled him down on top of her.

  “I want you…now,” she groaned and then gave him a kiss that made him mindless, stroking her hand across his chest and lower, working it inside the band of his swimsuit. He pushed his trunks down to release his throbbing cock. He had no defenses against the melting look in her liquid gray eyes. He became dizzy in the head, and his lust overwhelmed him. Locking her legs around his waist, she rocked her hips and he willingly answered her body’s request and plunged inside her wet, sweet heat. He deepened his thrust, her hips arched, matching his rhythm, and her eyelids fluttered closed.

  “Open your eyes,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I want to see your face when you come.” As I make you mine, all mine.

  Her eyes widened, and she panted, “Yes.” Sinking deeper, he became part of her. An animal-like noise penetrated the sultry night air, except it was really Lucy, thrashing beneath him.

  “Ah, there’s the spot,” he said on a throaty moan. He hit her sweet spot and felt electrified. They were both so close.

  Her legs gripped his thighs, and he bent his head for another kiss. She cried soft little moans, urging him to move faster and deeper. He dropped his head against her neck, gasping for air, fighting his own orgasm, wanting her to come first. Her hands slid down his slick back and grabbed his behind. She stiffened and finally screamed his name on her release.

  Brogan’s head snapped back; a gargled sound slipped from his throat. He pumped his hips, gripping her tightly. With a roar, he exploded and came inside her. At that precise moment, Lucy became his salvation. The light to his dark. He sank into the surrendered feeling and the raw passion of their lovemaking. His orgasm wracked every cell in his body until he collapsed on top of her.

  She lay limp beneath him, breathing heavily.

  “I think you tried to kill me again,” he said between gulps of air.

  “So this is what I’ve been missing all this time down by the lake.” Pant, pant. “We started at R and went barreling into triple X,” she said in a husky, sex-satisfied voice.

  He slowly pulled out of her and rolled to his side. “Nah, maybe X, but certainly not triple X. I’d need a whip and restraints, and you’d need a naughty nurse outfit.”

  Lucy gave a low chuckle, sighing. “In your dreams.”

  Brogan’s head hit the blanket with a thud. “Shit! What a fucking idiot.” Stars swirled before his eyes, blinding him.

  “What?” Alarmed, Lucy sat up, covering her breasts. “Did someone see us?” Her head whipped around as she scanned the patch of dark woods.

  If only. That would be one hundred times better than what they did. “Do you realize we had sex without a condom?”

  “Oh. Uh, yeah…that’s bad. Let me think how bad.” She started to count on her fingers. Brogan held his breath, praying. After a beat, she said, “I think we’re safe…maybe.”

  “Fuck,” Brogan groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “I haven’t been this stupid since I got drunk and had sex with Kathryn. And we all know how that ended,” he said, refusing to keep the frustration from his voice. He reached for his swim trunks and yanked them up his legs. “When do you expect your next period?” Panic was starting to claw its way up his spine and circle his throat.

  Lucy pulled up her bikini bottoms and started to retie her top. “In a few weeks. Don’t worry. You’ll be the first to know.” Anger tinged her voice.

  The peaceful calm and rightness of the night just moments ago vanished like a puff of smoke. The wind had picked up, blowing grass and leaves in their path. Brogan felt his whole life being hauled up and tossed around like the dead leaves on the ground. How could something that felt so right…perfect, be so wrong? He shook out the blanket; sand and grass went flying. Horrible scenarios crowded his mind, all ending with another baby not living. Stop. That’s not going to happen. He got busy putting out the low-burning embers of the bonfire. Lucy was slipping on her shoes and stuffing things back in her beach bag. Her agitated movements indicated her level of anger.

  “Let me help you.” He reached for the bag.

  Snatching it away, she said in watery voice, “I can do it.”

  Brogan froze. Lucy continued to ignore him. He peered closer at her lowered face. His heart stuttered and stopped pumping blood in absolute fear. “Are you crying?” She swiped a hand across her face. He felt like crying too.

  “No. Leave me alone.” She tried to push past him, but he couldn’t let her go. He tugged on her hand and folded his arms around her.

  “Please don’t cry.” He brushed the tracks of her tears with his thumb. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just when I’m with you, my head stops functioning, and all the blood rushes to my stupid dick.”

  “That’s not all that’s stupid,” she grumbled, snuggling against his chest as he rocked her in his arms.

  “I know. It’s just…for some reason.” His mouth had suddenly dried up. How did he say this without baring his soul? Which would be the second stupidest thing he’d done tonight. “It’s just…you mean…a lot to me, and I end up breaking all my self-imposed rules.” Like making love without protection and needing her like needing oxygen.

  Lucy looked up with flushed cheeks and spiky, wet eyelashes. “I’m sorry, Brogan. I should’ve stopped you, but…my brain wasn’t working either.” He pressed his lips to her eyes, kissing away the remaining tears.

  “I think we’ll be fine. I really shouldn’t be ovulating this early.” Yeah, but he had Olympic swimmers. They’d probably tread water until the time was ripe. Crap.

  “Come on.” He smoothed back her tangled hair. “Let’s go back to my place. We both need showers, and I have a drawer full of condoms,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. Nothing he could do now except sweat and wait.

  * * *

  The unease crawling along
Lucy’s skin after realizing she’d stupidly had unprotected sex had almost dissipated. A few more rounds with Brogan, starting with inventive foreplay in the shower, rocking the wall in the dark hallway, and finally ending in bed kept her mentally and physically exhausted and happily sated.

  Brogan stretched beneath her, making her cheek rub against his hard chest. The smell of rich coffee and expensive soap filled her head. The best smell ever.

  “You doing okay?” he asked, his hand twirling one of her curls around his finger.

  Lucy tilted her head up and smiled. “Could be better. Got any chocolate mousse?”

  “Yeah, but I’m saving it for later.” His grin was wicked. Lucy rubbed his arm until she reached his thick wrist, and played with the interesting bracelet he always wore. The blue-and-green nautical rope felt soft from many years of wear and tear.

  “Why do you always wear this bracelet?” Brogan stiffened beneath her, and Lucy watched as his smile vanished and his lovely green eyes clouded. “Tell me,” she whispered, stroking the stubble covering his strong jaw. For a moment, she didn’t think he would speak, and then he heaved a heavy sigh.

  “Back in college, my mom’s uncle contacted me and told me he’d located my dad.” Alarmed by the seriousness of his tone, she wrapped the top sheet around her and sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. “So I decided to drive to South Carolina, where he was living, and meet him.” He shifted, resting against the headboard.

  “Was this the first time you’d ever met him?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t know much about him, except the few stories my uncle had shared.”

  Lucy’s heart started to crack in tiny pieces. “What happened?” She feared the answer would not be good.

  “He owned a small hardware store in Gaffney.” Brogan fiddled with the bracelet that held all the secrets. “I was a nervous wreck. I sat, sweating in my beat-up Jeep Wrangler,” he added in a subdued tone.

  Lucy gave his hard thigh a soft pat, not sure how to comfort him, and hurting all the same. “How long did you sit in your Jeep?”

  “Who knows, but it felt like hours. I watched customers coming and going, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of my dad, even though I wasn’t sure I’d recognize him. Finally I manned up and went inside.”

  She locked fingers with his and squeezed. “Once inside, I spotted him right away. He was behind the counter, ringing someone up—”

  “How’d you know it was him?”

  “Looked just like me. Same hair, eyes, height. We could’ve been brothers.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow. He came from around the counter and said, Hey, I’m Don Reese. Can I help you?”

  Lucy lifted her head, eyes wide. “What did you do?”

  “First I froze, and then, I finally shook his hand and said, I’m Brogan.” He stopped talking, and Lucy held her breath. With a sigh, he finished. “That was the longest minute of my life. My dad stood there in shock, not speaking. And then he broke down and bawled.”

  She gulped, trying to keep from bawling herself. Brogan cupped her face and gave her a soft, poignant kiss, filled with sadness.

  “I’m sorry. I know this is painful for you,” she whispered around the tears clogging her throat.

  “Yeah, but sharing it with you somehow makes it better.” She kissed him again with heat and heart. “Luce, remember that day back in high school when you waited for me on the bleachers after that big win?”

  Flushed, Lucy tried hiding her face in Brogan’s sweet, delicious neck. “Yeah. I remember,” she murmured against his hot skin. She just wished he didn’t remember. Her first failed attempt at seducing her sister’s boyfriend. Lucy preferred to keep that jewel buried under six feet of granite.

  “Sometimes even after a huge win, I’d get depressed because the entire game I’d be hunting and watching and looking out for my dad, thinking he’d show up…just once to see me play.” He tangled his fingers in her hair. “And when I saw you that night…somehow you made it all better. Knowing you were always there waiting for me.” He shrugged his big shoulders. “I just remembered that and wanted you to know I appreciated it.”

  Lucy cupped his face with her palms and spoke to his somber eyes. “I’m glad I was there too. I never knew what made you so sad, but I’m glad I was a friend to you.”

  “You were always a good friend.” His sad eyes crinkled into a smile. “Want me to finish the story?” he murmured around nibbles on her lips. Not to be distracted by his kisses, she urged him to continue.

  “Please finish.”

  He angled his arm behind his head and sighed. “Anyway, I had no expectations of a relationship. I just wanted to meet him. He finally stopped sobbing and led me to his office. For the first hour, we chatted about business, the Super Bowl…just small talk. The second hour, we talked about me and my life. He asked questions about college and my football career.”

  “Did he know you played in high school and at Georgetown?”

  “He knew some. I think he kept tabs on me.” Lucy squeezed him tight, hoping to give him strength. “The third hour, we talked about his life, but I could tell he was growing uncomfortable and didn’t want to answer my questions. He’d remarried, but didn’t divulge much else.” His chuckle lacked humor. “When he basically clammed up, I knew it was time to leave. I had a long drive back. My dad promised he’d stay in touch and told me to call him anytime. We man-hugged, and all I wanted was to get out of there fast before I started crying like a baby.” Brogan stopped; his chest heaved with heavy breaths. “When I reached my Jeep, he came running out of the store, holding a brown bag, and said, Son, I want you to have this. In the bag was this bracelet.” He turned the bracelet on his wrist.

  “What’d you say?”

  “Just, thanks, Dad.” Brogan swiped at his eyes. A lump in Lucy’s throat kept her from speaking. “That was the last time I ever saw him. And the only thing he ever gave me was this bracelet.”

  Chapter 25

  Lucy was in love with Brogan Reese, and he loved her back. Finally. The gods were smiling down upon her instead of snarling and shaking their fists. She knew this without a doubt, because Saturday morning, Lucy woke early, wrapped around Brogan like a tortilla around a bean burrito. He still slept, breathing evenly, allowing Lucy the glory of studying his peaceful face.

  After the heartbreaking story about his dad, he’d proceeded to make love to her as if she were the most precious person in the world and he never wanted to let her go. Thinking of his love made her toes curl. He didn’t exactly shout, I love you as he climaxed. Those words never passed from his lips. But he didn’t have to say it, because Lucy could read the look in his beautiful green eyes. And he touched her as if she were a fragile Fabergé egg worthy of his utmost care and protection. So, yeah, that had to be love. And Lucy shared those exact overwhelming, heart-swelling, head-flying feelings that made her want to dance and sing down Main Street.

  “What are you smiling about?” he rumbled in a rusty morning voice.

  “How comfy my human pillow is.”

  Undulating, Brogan gave a huge stretch; then he heaved and rolled over, pinning her beneath all his scrumptious muscle.

  “Know what I want?” he asked. She had no idea, too busy luxuriating in the nibbles and ticklish kisses he scattered down her neck and along her heaving chest, but she hoped he wanted her. “A huge breakfast with all the fixins’. I’m starved. You wanna go to the Dog?”

  “Huh?” Lucy was having trouble focusing, because her throbbing down-under parts were warming up for another round of mattress gymnastics.

  “Come on.” He smacked her hip. “I’ve got the morning off.” He planted another kiss on her mouth and slid from the bed.

  Lucy flopped against the headboard. “Ugh. You may have the morning off, but my boss is a real hard-ass, and I have to work. I need to get ready for Keith’s to
urnament today. That food isn’t going to sell itself, you know.”

  He pulled a pair of gray Georgetown athletic shorts over his spectacular walnut butt, blocking her view. Lucy sulked, thinking of the unfairness of life.

  “Tell your boss to go screw himself,” he called from the hallway as he padded to the kitchen by way of the bathroom.

  Lucy sat up in the middle of the messy bed that showed damning evidence of the sexy sport they’d played the night before. What she’d really like was to tell her boss not to screw himself, but to screw her…now! The scent of delicious coffee being freshly brewed wafted to her nose, and Lucy scrambled from the bed. Searching for her panties, she ducked under the bed with her bare tush waving in the cool morning air when she spied an old baseball bat. She reached for it, wondering when Brogan had time for a baseball league. Snatching a T-shirt and pair of shorts from his chest of drawers, she dressed, scooped up the bat, and followed her nose to the kitchen.

  “Come to mama,” she purred as she spied hot coffee and banana nut muffins from BetterBites sitting on his makeshift countertop. Brogan had started to blend another one of his noxious smoothies. “Hey, Zeus, god of the Olympics…found your baseball bat. It was hiding under your bed. You playing Harmony league ball now?” He shut off the blender and gave her a questioning stare as she gripped his old wood bat.

  “Nope. I always sleep with that bat under my bed wherever I am.” He plopped on the industrial metal barstool next to her with his smoothie in one hand and pulled the bat from her grasp with the other.

  Curious, Lucy reached for a muffin. “Why?”

  A blanket of sadness darkened his eyes as he peered at the bat. Sorry for bringing it up, she went back to eating her muffin and drinking her coffee, except now they’d lost their delightful flavors, tasting instead like dry tree bark. Brogan drank his smoothie in contemplative silence.

  “When I was little, I used to lie awake at night and worry about my mom, about not having much family.”

 

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