Delicious

by Melissa Schroeder

  I draw in a deep breath as I close my eyes and get my mind back on track. I just have to get her into the house and then go home. Easy peasy, right? As I turn off my truck, I look around at the sleepy neighborhood.

  She bought her house just a few months ago and since then, she had really made it a home. Her neighbors were mainly retired military and younger families. Of course, she fit in right away. It’s quiet already, unlike other parts of San Antonio. It was one of the reasons she bought the house. It took her an extra ten minutes to get to work, but she said that she needed the quiet. Her hours were just as bad as mine.

  I look at her and smile. She looks so sweet and peaceful that I hate to wake her up. But I need to get her inside the house. I glance at the door, then back at her. I could carry her in. It makes me a bit of a perv, because when I carried her out of the restaurant, it had been one of the most arousing moments of the last year. Which said so much about me and where my sex life was at the moment.

  Shaking those thoughts away, I go to unlock her door. She gave me a key when she bought the house. All three of us, Fritz, Harry and I, were given keys. I’m sure EJ and Savannah each have one as well. After I unlock the door, I jog back to the SUV and open her door.

  Reaching across her body, I undo her seatbelt. As I am moving back so I can lift her out of my vehicle, she slips her arms over my shoulders.

  “Allison,” I say, my voice strained. Her scent surrounds me. It’s warm and welcoming and sweet, just like her favorite cupcake.

  “Ed,” she mumbles. I know she’s probably still sleeping, but I can’t make myself move away from her. My name on her lips stuns me. “Come here. I want you.”

  I blink, trying to figure out just how to respond, but it’s impossible. My dick is at full staff, and there is no more blood in my brain, so thinking’s kind of difficult. In fact, I’m surprised I don’t pass out cold.

  Before I can react, she pulls me closer to her, pressing her mouth against mine. For a moment I resist, but too many nights dreaming about her has me losing my control and going along for the ride. I feel her tongue trace the seam of my lips and I open to let her dive in. She tastes of tequila and sweet sin. I want her, need her in a way I have never needed another human in my life. I tangle my tongue with hers and she moans, the vibrations filter throughout my entire body. I drink her in, not able to resist this simple pleasure. She pulls back from me and I follow.

  “I really want you inside of me, Ed,” she says, then promptly passes back out.

  For a long moment, I stand there unable to move. My brain has completely drained of all the blood that seems to have taken up permanent residence in my cock.

  Fuck me.

  Never in my life have I been this turned on. Even during my teenage years where I spent a fair amount of time jacking off, I didn’t react this way. Of course, then it had been an abstract idea. Now, there was a hot, sexy woman kissing the fuck out of me. A woman who occupied my mind while I was asleep and awake. I want to wake her up and demand she explain herself. I step away, draw in a huge breath, and count down from ten. I do that four more times before I think I might be able to handle her. I step closer again, then slip my arms beneath her legs and behind her back, lifting her off the seat. Even in sleep, she snuggles up against me, her head on my shoulder and her arms around my neck. I can feel her breath against my skin, and I want to snuggle right back, but I fight that urge. Mostly. It’s difficult because I can smell her now. She always seems to smell of sunshine, like I’m laying out in a field, the summer sun beating down on me, the warmth of it on my skin. That’s Allison. She’s the sunlight in my dark world.

  I step into her house, carrying her over the threshold. I pause at the thought, then shake it away. I’m just taking care of my best friend’s baby sister. Who isn’t a baby in the least. But she should have some of her own. She loves children, and she would be so good at being a mom.

  Thinking about her being a mom makes me contemplate just how to give her those babies and I almost drop her. I close my eyes and remind myself of the objective. Get her home, then leave. That’s it.

  I kick the door shut, then walk through her house all the way back to her room. I hesitate, trying to bolster myself. As I enter her bedroom, I see that massive king bed. I remember it being delivered the day we helped her move in about six months ago. Ever since the moment I saw her jump on it and giggle, I’ve had fantasies. Well, to be truthful, I’ve had them since Harry, Fritz, and I got out of the service and moved to San Antonio. The image of her on that bed had intensified them.

  I push that thought aside. I’m here to make sure she got home okay. After I place her on top of her bed, I stand there trying to decide if I should take her clothes off, my cock twitches. Damn. Okay, maybe not take off her clothes, but I take off her sandals, then grab a blanket from the chair beside her bed to cover her up with it. There. She’s home and safe.

  I stand there for a few long moments looking at her. Even in sleep, she has a little smile curving her lips like she’s got a secret. The steady rise and fall of her chest tells me she is settled into sleep and there shouldn’t be a problem. I linger. I keep finding things in her room to study, as if they hold some kind of secret as to how to get over my embarrassing crush on her. Truthfully, it’s a little stalkerish. She mumbles something in her sleep and shifts her weight on the bed. I let go of the breath I am holding, but I can’t seem to move. I was just supposed to bring her home. End of story.

  Still, I can’t get myself to move. I want to slip beneath that blanket, pull her closer, and snuggle. Then I want to strip her clothes off her and fuck her until neither of us can walk.

  I can feel a drop of precum leak out and I have to adjust my dick through my clothes. The scrape of my jeans against my cock has me closing my eyes and having to bite back a groan. I would rather her hands were on me. Her hands, her body, her tight cunt. Jesus, I can just imagine the feel of her tightening around me as she comes.

  I have to do some counting before I open my eyes, thankful that she’s still sleeping.

  She doesn’t usually drink that much. Maybe I should stay. Just to be sure. I roll my eyes embarrassed for myself. I can’t even come up with a decent excuse. Still, I would hate if she got hurt or too sick by herself. Her brother would never forgive me, and I would never forgive myself.

  Knowing it’s probably stupid, but not able to force myself to leave, I walk out of her bedroom—which takes more than a little control than I thought it would. After I shut her door, I draw in a deep breath, then release it slowly. It’s asinine to stay here, but I’ve never seen Allison that drunk. Not that she drinks much to begin with.

  I push those thoughts aside and go in search of a place to sleep. Her couch is one of those deep ones and is bigger than most, but I know my six-foot four-inch frame is not going to fit on it. I open up one of the other rooms and find an office. I hadn’t been back since she moved in no matter how many parties she’s had. I forced myself not to be here, near her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid her…or that massive king bed she has. Why did she need such a big bed? What the fuck was she planning on doing on it?

  I shake my head as I open the door to another spare room and find boxes in it. So, I have the couch or the hard floor. Years ago, I could take the floor, but after my last tour, I can’t really deal with that. Well, I could, but I would end up walking like an old man all week.

  I walk back to Allison’s room. I could sleep next to her. We would both be fully clothed and that way if she needed me in the night, I would be right there. I stand in the doorway, knowing that if I do this, I will have memories of it, which will make it harder for me to even look at her. It was bad enough right now.

  I wander over to the right side of the bed. Allison is snuggled up to her pillow, her back to me. She’s fully dressed and snoring, and I want to wake her up by slipping my dick into her warm, wet pussy. The woman is sloppy drunk and was being pretty obnoxious just thirty minutes earlier, but even that reminder
doesn’t get my cock under control. I can do this. I can stay here through the night to make sure she’s okay. Harry would expect it of me. I’ll sleep on top of the covers with all my clothes on.

  After I slip off my shoes, I lay down beside her. I’m on my back staring up at the ceiling, my hands under my head forcing them to behave. Now, if the rest of my body can ignore the pounding in my blood and my hard cock, I’ll be fine. There is no doubt I might just go to hell for doing this. I know it has more to do with my need to be near her, but I know this is as far as I can go. She’s too good for a man like me, but this single night sleeping beside her fully clothed is better than any hard bout of sex with another woman. I just need to keep my hands off her.

  She makes a noise, then rolls over the bed to snuggle up next to me. She slips her arm over my midsection and she settles her head on my shoulder. Her happy scent surrounds me as I close my eyes begging for help from anyone. At this point, if Satan were to pop up, I would probably take him up on any offer.

  She presses closer and I can feel her breath on my neck. Satan doesn’t need to show up. This is my hell…and my penance.

  Chapter Seven

  I lie in bed trying to open my eyes. It’s hard because they hurt. In fact, my entire body aches, from the top of my head to my tippy toes. I have no one to blame but myself—and Savannah. I never really partied in college, but that’s probably because Savannah went to culinary school in California. The woman could entice the saintiest person to sin. Santiest isn’t a word but…what was I thinking?

  Oh, yeah, I hurt. Now my head is pounding not only from my misadventures from the night before, but also from thinking thoughts. Jesus. I think my eyelashes hurt. I am a mess and again, my fault. Well, I think I can also blame my friends—especially Savannah. Also, I think something crawled into my mouth and died. Good God, what did I eat last night? I could probably kill people with my breath. They could bottle up the smell and use it against any enemy.

  Knowing that it isn’t going to get better, I force my lids to raise enough so I can see in my room. It’s dark, but I feel it’s later in the morning. The crack of thunder up above tells me we’re having thunderstorms. The wind rushes through the trees and even that causes me pain. Every sound jackhammers agony in my head. What had I been thinking?

  I didn’t think. That’s why I got into trouble. I was sad about having a staycation by myself. It would be different if I could spend time with someone and we could do fun things together. But I decided I would spend my staycation working around the house. I hadn’t had a choice because the hospital only lets me have so much leave transfer from year-to-year.

  I drag myself out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. I’m not nauseous, thank God, but my body hurts. How did I get so old that I can’t go have fun with my friends? Every little inch of my body throbs with misery and suffering.

  After I brush my teeth and relieve myself, I step back into my bedroom. I strip out of my dress and panties, then grab an oversized T-shirt. There’s no reason I have to get dressed today. Besides, I might hurt too much. Today will involve resting and binging shows I’m behind on. And dammit, I have to go to the grocery store.

  I hear a clink in the distance, and I know it’s in my house. Instantly, my body goes on alert. I can’t remember how I got home. Did I bring a guy home with me? I remember we were talking about Ed and how much I wanted him, then we chatted about Austin and why he was unsuitable…

  Another clang. I glance at my bed. There is an impression on right side. Definitely an adult slept there, but not me. I can never fall asleep on the right side of my bed.

  Oh, no. This is just like a Discovery ID show. They will talk about how dedicated I was to my patients, but one night, I went home with a stranger and he killed me. Or that’s what they are assuming because they can’t find my body.

  I hear a buzzing and notice my phone on the bedside table. It’s blowing up.

  EJ: If you don’t answer me, I’ll call the police.

  Then there are like fifty other messages on there. Good lord, Austin should have taken their phones away from them last night. Most of it is drunken gibberish about yangs and yings. What the hell?

  Savannah: You are texting too loud again. I want to die.

  Me: I know the feeling.

  EJ: At least we know you’re alive. What happened last night?

  Me: Did I leave with anyone?

  EJ: I can’t remember. It’s really hazy.

  Savannah: I’m dead. I can’t help you.

  I could tell them I’m in the house with a stranger, but then they would yell at me via text. Worse, they might just call the police. Especially EJ. She grew up in Savannah and while it’s not a small town, it still has that feel. She’s the first to freak out and assume the worst.

  I draw in a deep breath and slink down the hallway, baseball bat in hand. The kitchen light is on and whoever is in there is not trying to be quiet. Then I hear a mumbled curse and I recognize the voice.

  Ed Cooper is in my house? I step around the corner and watch as he takes something out of the oven. Ed Cooper is in my house and baking?

  He almost drops the pan of muffins when he turns around.

  “Jesus, Allison, what the hell are you doing?”

  I shrug fighting the need to cry. The throbbing in my body now has a sexual component to it. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “I’m baking.”

  “That’s apparent. But why are you doing it in my house?” And why do you look so right in my kitchen? I’m never going to be able to be there now without picturing Ed standing there looking grumpy. Life isn’t fair.

  “What are you wearing?” he asks in a strangled voice.

  I look down and remember I threw on a T-shirt that hits me at mid-thigh. It’s not like I’m standing there in lingerie. Mainly because I don’t have much—and that’s kind of embarrassing to admit even to myself.

  “A t-shirt.”

  “You need to put on some pants, Allison,” he says, as he stares at my legs. Wait, why is he staring at my legs? I don’t think I have ever seen that expression before. Slowly, his gaze travels up my body. The pain of my hangover dissolves as a rush of hormones flies through me. My nipples are hard—something that’s probably easy for him to see—and my pussy is pulsing—something I hope he cannot tell. By the time he makes eye contact, my entire body feels as if he’s lit a match to it. I resist the urge to fidget. Barely.

  “Allison.”

  Just my name, but it’s the sexiest my name has ever sounded before.

  “What?”

  “You. Need. More. Clothes.”

  He utters every word as if he is barely holding onto his control. “My house, my rules. Besides, you can’t see anything.”

  His eyes narrow and there’s a tick in his cheek. “Your brother would not agree.”

  “I bet you think I should put panties on too.”

  Another mutter that sounds something like ‘fuck me’ under his breath.

  “I don’t understand what’s wrong. My bathing suit shows more skin.”

  He slams the muffin tin down on the counter and raises his gaze to mine.

  “I’ll tell you what’s bothering me,” he says, his voice shimmering with barely controlled anger and something else…something that sounds a lot like arousal. “You plastered yourself all over me last night and then called me hard.”

  “I did what?” I screech.

  He shoves his hand through his hair and leaves it sexy and disheveled. How do guys do that? “Every day I have to deal with you in my shop.”

  “I think my brother and Fritz would say it was their shop too.”

  He ignores that comment. He’s a man on a mission, whatever that might be. His gaze is direct, dark, and so, so sexy. Warmth takes up residence between my legs, sending a gush of liquid to my pussy. Oh, my. Sexy, smiling Ed Cooper is a thing to behold. This Ed Cooper…well, let’s just say if I did have a pair of panties on, they would be drenched.

 
; “Then you tell me you want me inside of you.”

  The second he tells me that, pieces of the previous night start coming together, and I feel my face flush in embarrassment. I did tell him that. Jesus, I need to never drink again. Ever. Especially not tequila. That shit is going to be the death of me because I am going to die of humiliation.

  He’s still staring at me like I’m evil incarnate. I decide to pretend like I didn’t just remember everything I did the night before.

  “That sounds like a lie.”

  “Excuse me?” he says from behind clenched teeth. Ed looks a little angry right now, and maybe I should just get him out of my house. Mainly because I want to hide under the covers and pretend that last night never happened. I am never drinking tequila again. Ever.

  “I appreciate that you brought me home, but you didn’t need to stay. And you definitely don’t need to make me muffins.”

  “I had to because you had nothing to eat. Jesus, you should have more than a bottle of crappy chardonnay and moldy cheese, Allison. You’re a nurse. You know to eat better.”

  “I was going to HEB today.”

  “I did it for you.”

  I blink. “Wait, what? You went shopping for me?”

  His expression changes a little and his face flushes. “I thought you needed something other than coffee for breakfast.”

  “And you made me coffee?”

  He hesitates. “I needed some, so I made a pot.”

  “Oh,” is all I can say. It was sweet in a way that he went shopping for me, but I hate that he’s making me feel like an idiot. I work ten-hour days and sometimes I just pick up something to eat on the way home. Also, this is my staycation, so I had planned on shopping this morning.