It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

by Kylie Scott

  “Hmm. Let’s just take it slow.”

  His easy smile spread heat through me from top to toe. I was so screwed.

  Chapter Ten

  Seven Years Ago

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Playing some pool, having a drink.” I tapped my bottle of beer against his. “Nice to see you, Pete.”

  He nodded hello to the couple of guys from work I was playing with. And I’d been smashing them. We weren’t betting on the games or anything. Victory, however, was sweet and it was most definitely mine.

  “All of those hours I spend in the university bar are finally paying off.” I smiled. “Here’s to higher education.”

  He did not smile back.

  “Oh, relax.”

  “Does your father know you’re here?”

  “Yep,” I said. “Not that it would matter if he didn’t because eighteen now, remember?”

  So much scowling. It couldn’t be good for him. He eyed my navy shorts, white blousy top, and wedges askance before downing some beer. I thought I looked nice, but apparently not according to the expression on his face.

  “Finish that one up, then I’ll drive you home,” he said. Ordered, actually.

  “Are you kidding? I’m on a winning streak.”

  He leaned in. “Yeah, they’re letting you win hoping they can get into your pants. Wise up, kid.”

  I turned my back on the pool table and the two young guys keeping me company. They were apprentice electricians who worked for one of Dad’s subcontractor buddies. Nice enough, one of them was damn cute and he knew it. Not that I was interested. It was all just friendly and would remain that way. Unfortunately, my affections were all tied up by the oblivious man at my side.

  “Wow.” I slid an arm around his shoulders and he gave it a dubious look. “Listen to me very carefully, Pete. I’m currently enjoying myself in a way that is entirely suitable and indeed expected for a person my age. If you can’t handle that . . . I love you, I do. You’re my best friend. But you need to stop overreacting and being a dick about this.”

  “I’m being a dick?”

  “Yes, you are.” I stepped back, returning to the game. Doing my best to ignore him and his words. Like I couldn’t win a game of pool on my own.

  He returned to the men from Dad’s crew whom he’d come in with. But I could feel his eyes on me, all pissed off and ranty. Probably wishing he could drag me out of here by the hair and give me a doll or some blocks to play with. I smacked the pool stick into the white ball, screwing up my next shot entirely. All his fault.

  “My turn,” one of the dudes said.

  Craig, I think his name was. Yeah, Craig and Brandon.

  And I’d busted Brandon checking out my ass a couple of times when I went to take a shot. But I could ignore him easily. The whole death-glare thing from Pete, however, was putting me off. I really wanted to beat him over the head with a pool cue. Sadly, it was illegal.

  Balls kerplunked and Powderfinger’s “On My Mind” played loud and proud. A good-size crowd filled the room for a Friday afternoon, celebrating the end of the workweek.

  My happiness, however, was gone.

  One of the barmaids stopped by Pete’s table and gave him a long, overly familiar hug. So they’d banged. What a surprise. I’d be insanely jealous, but what was the point? As he’d just demonstrated, I’d always be a child in his eyes.

  “Adele,” said Craig, clapping me on the shoulder. “You lost!”

  “Damn. Must be my turn to buy a round, anyway.”

  Brandon grinned. “You take care of the beers and I’ll thrash him for you.”

  “Sounds good.”

  The next hour or so passed in much the same way. I played twice more, winning one and losing one. By the time Pete, aka the Fun Reaper, returned, I had a nice buzz going and had almost started to relax again.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I was out of line. Can you forgive me?”

  I stopped. “Really? Yes.”

  “I’m sure you’re a demon with a pool stick. You going to play me?”

  “If you like.”

  I gave him a tentative smile and he pulled me in for a hug. The idiot even patted me on the head. And I didn’t win that game. My concentration was crap because I was too busy checking out his ass when he went to take a shot.

  Sunday Night . . . Now

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “Because I’m hiding in the bathroom,” I said. “This is a secret call.”

  Hazel sighed. “Jesus. You finally get what you want and you’re hiding in the bathroom freaking out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Look,” she said, “from what you’ve told me, the man is being reasonable. You need time to reassess your relationship and determine if it can work with you both being adults and intimate with one another.”

  “Okay. Yeah. That makes sense.”

  “So ask yourself, ‘Why am I panicking?’”

  “I don’t know, but I’m terrified.”

  “Actually, it does make sense if you think about it,” she said.

  “Can’t think—my brain’s going too fast.”

  “Right, because you’re finally on the verge of getting what you’ve always wanted. What if it all goes wrong?”

  “Exactly,” I said, shoulders slumping.

  “You’ve had a lot of time to work him up as something almost godlike. Maybe you’re also worried about him living up to those expectations, Adele. Or you being good enough for him.”

  “Please. I barely even consider him worthy to kiss my feet.”

  She laughed. “Good, I like your attitude. Keep telling yourself that. Or at least that you both deserve happiness. But the only way you’re going to sort out all these things is if you stop hiding in the bathroom and go and confront the situation.”

  “Yes. But I think if we keep talking about the situation I’m just going to get more anxious and confused about the situation.”

  “So stop talking and take action,” she said. “A couple’s physical relationship can be every bit as important a method of communicating as using actual words.”

  I nodded, not that she could see. “Right. So I should just go bang him. I’d be lost without you, Hazel.”

  “I know.”

  “I can do this.”

  “Sure you can,” she said. “Go jump that man, ride him into the ground.”

  “Thanks. Will do.”

  “I have to go—Maddie wants an update on your soap opera life.”

  I frowned. “It’s not quite that bad.”

  She just laughed and hung up on me. Friends. What could you do?

  At any rate, I took her advice and stopped hiding. The house was quiet, still. I wandered out onto the back deck. In the distance, the sun was sinking lower, giving the air that twilight softness and haze. Pete was swimming laps, strong arms powering through the water. I didn’t want to ever become inured to the sight of this man. Especially seeing him half-naked. I wanted all of the butterflies, the pleasure. Forever and ever, or however long I could keep it.

  He stopped and smiled at me, treading water in the deep. “Hey, you coming in?”

  My hands gripped the skirt of my dress.

  And I was so done with worrying. My thoughts had been chasing themselves in circles all day, wearing me thin. What was even the point when it only took you away from where you wanted to be?

  “The temperature’s good,” he said, moving to the side of the pool. “Why don’t you go get your bikini?”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  No more delays or excuses. No more scared and alone. I jumped. Cool water shocked my skin, surrounding me, closing over my head. The skirt of my dress billowed out, hair floating around me. Some weird surge of joy filled me, a feeling of freedom. I exhaled hard when I reached the surface, a smile on my face.

  “You jumped.”

  I nodde
d, making for the side. All the better to wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his body. His arm anchored us to the edge, the other hand sliding beneath my ass. Up close, he was exquisite, dark wet hair slicked back, gaze hooded. No one had ever looked at me the way he did now. Like I was more than just some riddle to be solved or a body to be conquered. But as if I held some integral part of him, maybe. The man looked at me like I truly mattered, as if he really saw me, and I hadn’t even realized just how much that had been missing from the others.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  I pushed back my hair, tightening my thighs around him. He was so solid and real. Not that I’d been fooling around with blow-up dolls previously. But the others had been boys, guys, dudes, while he was a man. The difference was definitely there in all sorts of ways.

  Other than gripping my butt, he made no further move. Waiting.

  His cock hardened against my core, making me press myself against him in need of more. Christ, that feeling was so good. He and I together. All of my blood and senses seemed to be rushing straight to the point of our almost connection. If not for his board shorts and my underwear, we’d be in a pretty good position right now.

  “Maybe jumping in fully dressed wasn’t such a good idea,” I said.

  “No?”

  “Too late to worry about it now.”

  “Very true.”

  I kissed him hard, demanding, and he met my need with his own. Firm lips opening, tongue seeking. He made me so greedy. I wanted—no, needed—his mouth and his heat and his dick deep inside of me. Fingers dug into my ass, urging me closer. Our tongues tangled, a moan coming from my throat. Kissing him came so naturally, the give and take, the mutual need. It just got better each time, growing with each kiss. Like his mouth was made for mine, his body the perfect fit.

  “Grind yourself on me,” he said, teeth seeking out my neck, my shoulder. “Show me how bad you want it, Adele.”

  The head of his cock notched against me, making my insides tighten. Given enough time, I could come from this alone. Dry-humping him in the pool. Wet dry-humping, maybe. Whatever. It felt insanely good. There was no space here between us for worry or inhibitions. Just this raw lust.

  “We could have been doing this all day.” I sighed. “I’m such an idiot.”

  He laughed, chest vibrating against me. “No you’re not, beautiful. We had some things to sort out.”

  I arched my neck, giving him better access. The sting of his bites sent my need rocketing.

  “It’s good you got some sleep,” he murmured. “You’ve got a busy night ahead of you.”

  “Oh?”

  “But not in the pool or on the fucking floor. We’re taking it slow and doing things right, this time.”

  “Sex in the pool doesn’t count?”

  “The bed is better,” he said, moving toward the pool steps. “Out you go.”

  Sadly, horribly, he set me down. Wet material clung to my body, water dripping off of me as I climbed out. I dragged down the zipper, peeling the dress off. It went splat when it hit the pavement. Pete pulled off his board shorts, the heavy length of his hard-on bobbing in front of him. Cool water apparently didn’t faze the man. Or, at least, it was no match for my grinding skills. Happily, trees, distance, the fading light, and a tall fence kept us safely out of the neighbor’s sight. Though I’d keep my damp lingerie on for now just the same. He’d seen my thighs and belly before, but a little cover couldn’t hurt my confidence.

  “No wet clothes in the house,” he said, voice rough and low. “Take it all off.”

  “I’ve worn my bikini inside before.”

  “It’s a new rule.” He picked up a towel, giving himself a quick dry-off. Then he threw it aside, taking his dick in hand. “Now, please.”

  “Thought you wanted to take this inside?”

  “I’m waiting.”

  Bossy jerk. I undid the back of my bra, peeling the wet straps and lace down my shoulders, away from my breasts and very hard nipples. All while he just watched. Next, I grabbed the waistband of my underwear, stripping the last of my cover away and dropping it on the ground. The man had already been inside of me, but standing naked in front of him still seemed an undertaking. Having his heated gaze roving over me, I ignored the urge to cover myself with my hands, to pick up a towel, maybe.

  “Thank you,” he said simply.

  Then he stepped forward, taking my hand to lead me up into the house. We went straight to the French doors opening into his bedroom. Overhead, the fan spun in slow circles. The sheets on the bed were still disheveled from earlier. Pete’s bed. It still felt like forbidden territory. A place of myth and legend. Though that might just be in my sex dreams. He stood at my back, hands slipping around my waist, his cock aligned with the crack of my ass.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  One hand slipped down to the crease of my sex, petting me gently, making me wet all over again. The other toyed with a nipple, rubbing his thumb over and around. I leaned back into him, reaching for the curve of his hips, the start of the smooth round of his ass. My body seemed to loosen and tense all at once. Like I wanted to simultaneously melt on the spot and climb him like a monkey. Instead, I widened my stance, giving his fingers room to slide between the lips of my labia. Given half a chance, the man would tease me into insanity. His arm banded around my middle, fingers plunging within, fucking me. The sensation drove me up onto my toes, the way his thumb played my clit.

  “I’ve got you,” he said, teeth grazing my earlobe.

  I squirmed on his fingers, leg muscles tight as could be.

  “You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you.”

  “So do it.”

  “First, you need to come.”

  How calm and in control he was annoyed me. I reached back, grasping his thick cock, stroking him. The growling noise he made stirred my blood. I wanted to take this man to his knees, own him in the same way he owned me. Whether he knew it or not. But most importantly, right then, I had to taste him.

  “Wait,” I said, trying to brush his hands away. “I want . . .”

  “What do you want, beautiful? Tell me.”

  His hands pushed away, I turned in his hold and his mouth covered mine, kissing me hot, wet, and deep. Making it hard to think straight. But I was a woman on a mission. A very important one. I broke off the kiss and knelt, taking his cock in hand. The head was an angry purple, veins running along the heavy length. It was a nice-looking cock. An impressive one. Not so long that it headed into painful territory, but a good thickness. Wide enough that I might even need a little practice getting my lips around him. And he seemed to have gone awfully still all of a sudden. Guess I had his full attention.

  Hand firm around him, I licked up the bead of pre-come. Salty. Then I dragged the flat of my tongue across and around him. Two could tease. I took the crown into my mouth, gently sucking at first, working my way up to more. Fingers swept my hair back from my face, holding it out of the way. He obviously liked to watch. His stance widened a little, chest rising and falling above. And I could feel his eyes on me, his absolute concentration.

  My free hand stroked his thigh and his hip bone. The feel of his hot skin so perfect. Head bobbing, I worked him deeper before pulling back, gently dragging my teeth against the underside. My free hand cradled his balls, rolling them before tugging just a little.

  “Fucking hell,” he muttered.

  The tip of my tongue dug into the sweet spot, where the rim of his crown met. All the while, I stroked him, keeping the rest of his dick occupied. There wasn’t a trick I wouldn’t use. Anything to get him as worked up and overwhelmed as he made me. Another bead of pre-come hit my tongue and I groaned. The vibration making his cock swell even more, pulsing against my tongue.

  “Jesus,” he said. “Adele, wait.”

  “Hm?” I blinked up at him, licking my lips. “I’m not finished.”

  He grabbed my arms and drew me t
o my feet, backing me up against the mattress. “Beautiful, you’re seriously fucking good at that and I’d really like to come in your mouth later. But right now, on the bed.”

  “You liked it?”

  “I loved it,” he corrected. “Now get on the bed.”

  I scrambled back, but apparently not fast enough. His hands grabbed my ankles, spreading them wide, making room for his body. Then he climbed on top of me, the heat of him intense. My hands slid up his arms, stroking his neck, messing up his hair. I couldn’t get enough of touching him. Not in any amount of years.

  “Look at me,” he said, voice deep and demanding.

  “I am. You’re gorgeous.”

  He smiled and kissed me, a little messy, a lot hungry. And his dick rested against me, the silken-smooth, steel-hard length so close. Making my insides weep and clench with need. I wrapped my legs around him, urging him closer. I knew he’d talked about slow, but surely we were past that stage.

  “Hey,” he said. “I need to know if you want me to use a condom or not. I’m okay with whatever you want.”

  Oh. “We’re both clean and I’m on the pill.”

  “Yeah. Definitely.”

  I nodded and rolled us, pushing him over onto his back. Of course, he let me. Highly doubtful I could move him anywhere without permission. I straddled him, leaning forward with one hand taking my weight and the other guiding him to my entrance. Slowly, I sank down, feeling the stretch of him deep inside. My breath caught, my eyelids squeezed closed. There was nothing beyond this bed. Nothing else mattered but feeling everything he had to give me. What I had to give him in return. When I was seated on his pelvis, I opened my eyes and squeezed my breasts. Almost over-aware of every part of my body. Every nerve ending seemed to hum with pleasure and expectation.

  “That feels good.” I smiled.

  “And that’s mine.” He replaced my hands with his own, playing with my nipples. “Ride me.”

  Like I needed to be told. My hips rose and fell, gradually building up the pace. In no particular rush, however. Now that he was inside me, I just wanted to enjoy the feel of him. The slide of his dick in and out, the flawless friction. Pete lay back on the mattress, a thing of splendor on the white rumpled sheets. And I got to see him like this, to have him. His gaze darkened, his pupils dilating, the gray-blue of his iris almost gone.