by Frank, Ella
“This mouth of yours has haunted me. The way it feels, the way it tastes.”
As his words echoed in my mind, I slid a hand under the sheet and fingered the edge of my lace panties where a small gold heart adorned the center of a bow. I wonder what he would’ve thought of these?
I smoothed my fingers under the expensive material and sucked in a breath. Determined not to stop, however, I closed my eyes and brought to mind Noah’s face. His dark, smoldering eyes, that chiseled jaw line, and the mouth that had driven me wild in a matter of minutes, and I glided my fingers down over my bare mound.
My heart thumped in time with the throb between my thighs, and as I slipped two fingers between my legs, I bit back a moan. A rush of pleasure swept over me as I clenched my thighs together. My body was on edge after being denied what it wanted only hours earlier. But it wasn’t about to be denied now.
I flattened my palm so the heel rubbed against my clit, and as I rolled my hips up against my hand, I couldn’t help the desperate sound that left me. I clamped my teeth into my lower lip, and that immediately brought to mind the way Noah had done the same. Teasing and taunting me, kissing and biting at my mouth until I’d all but begged him to give me some sort of release.
But he’d denied me. Made me wait. Teased me just enough that the ache was so great I needed some kind of relief.
I kicked the sheet off, my skin now burning up as I pressed my head back into the pillow and slid a finger inside. A soft cry left me as I pushed a second one in, and when I opened my eyes and looked down at my busy hand, I immediately thought of what it would be like to see Noah down there, his mouth hovering over my heated flesh.
Ah… I slammed my eyes shut and thrust up into my palm, and the climax that hit was soul shaking.
Damn it.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
This was not supposed to be happening. Not with him.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to get my breathing back under control, and when I finally did, I took a quick look at the clock.
Oh, thank God, it was still early enough that if I got dressed now and headed out, the possibility I’d run into him during my walk of shame was much less than if I waited until breakfast was served.
After a quick shower, I slipped back into my dress and slowly pulled open my door to see if anyone was around. When it appeared the coast was clear, I tiptoed down the hallway with every intention of sneaking out the back door, but a voice from the kitchen doorway stopped me in my tracks.
“Don’t even think about it, Laurel May Anderson.”
I winced at Willa’s no-nonsense tone and slowly pivoted to see her propping open the kitchen door with her hip. She had an apron on and a stainless-steel mixing bowl in her arms. Her eyes dropped to the heels hooked over my fingers, and then to my bare feet, and I curled my toes into the hardwood floor, guilty of making a run for it.
“I wasn’t thinking about anything.”
“Except how fast you could run out the back door.”
Apparently not fast enough. “I just… I didn’t want to get in your way this morning, that’s all.”
Willa arched an eyebrow. “As opposed to every other one of the hundreds of times you’ve talked with me over coffee while I make Sunday baseball muffins?”
Oh shit, with everything that had happened last night, I’d completely forgotten the Sunday baseball game.
“Which did you forget? The game or the day of the week?” Willa chuckled and turned on her heel. “Damn, he must be good.”
The door swung shut behind her, and I hurried through it, not about to let her think I’d spent the night in Noah’s bed. “It’s not like that.”
Willa raised the mixer’s top and clicked the bowl in place. “Not like what?”
“I didn’t sleep with him.”
“I didn’t say you did. But now that I know, I’m kind of disappointed. I was hoping for some details.”
“Some— You’re insane.”
“No offense,” Willa hit the button on the mixer, then said, a little louder, “But I think you get that award this morning. He was all but undressing you with his eyes when I left the two of you. What happened?”
He almost undressed me with his hands…then stopped. “Nothing.”
“If you think I believe that for a second, you must have me confused with someone who doesn’t know you.”
At the sound of footsteps, I glanced over my shoulder.
“Relax, it’s just Tim. I asked him to come and check on the AC unit this morning.” Willa snorted as she opened the fridge. “Nothing happened my ass.”
I pinched one of the choc-chip muffins that were sitting on the cooling rack. I had no idea what time Willa got up on Sundays, but she always made enough muffins to feed a small army. “He kissed me.”
Willa shut the fridge and leaned against it, a colander full of fresh blueberries in her hand. “I knew it. What kind of kiss?”
“What kind?”
“Yes. I’m guessing it wasn’t just a quick kiss goodnight?”
No, it definitely wasn’t. It was more like a come up to my room and let me spend the night inside you kiss.
“It was…” As I tried to think of a way to put that into words, I remembered how it felt when his fingers had crept up my thigh.
Willa grinned. “Pretty damn amazing, judging by the look on your face.”
“Oh God.” I sighed and shook my head. “I can’t be here when he gets up. I need to go.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You know that, right?”
“I know, but I don’t act like this. I don’t fall into bed with guys after a week of knowing them.”
Willa crossed the kitchen and put the colander in the sink. “Laurel, he’s not some stranger that just rolled into town. You’ve known him your whole life.”
“No. I knew him when he was a teenager. He might as well be a stranger who rolled into town.”
“Oh, come on. You know what I mean.”
I did, but it didn’t matter. If anything, it made things worse. The Noah I’d known had stolen and broken my heart, and both of those things had forever changed me.
“I need to go. Jake’s on the team today, and I don’t want to make him late.”
“You really think Jake can’t get to the field on his own? That boy is more responsible than most of the adults in town.”
“I know he is, but this is our thing.” It really was, which was kind of ironic, since I was about the least athletic person on the planet. But Sunday baseball was a tradition, and we’d been going to the local game ever since Jake could walk.
“Okay, I’ll give you that.”
Thank you, Jesus. I dropped my heels to the floor and slid my feet inside.
“But Laurel?”
“Yeah?”
“Jake’s almost an adult now. It might be time you start thinking about you for a change. I’m pretty sure he wants you to be happy too, and why not with someone who’s right there in front of you?”
That might be the case, but Noah wasn’t the answer to that. We had way too much history, and he was only going to be here for a year at the most. Then he’d pack his bags and head back to Italy. That didn’t scream happiness to me—it screamed heartbreak all over again, and having barely survived it the first time around, I wasn’t about to voluntarily sign up for a second chance.
“I really should go.” I walked to the kitchen door, but before I left, I stopped and looked back at my friend. “Hey, Willa?”
She glanced up from the blueberries she was washing.
“You might want to take some of that advice for yourself.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I go on dates all the time.”
“I know you do.” I looked around the kitchen she’d poured all her time and effort into over the last ten years—five of which had been renovation. “But maybe it’s time you start looking at what’s in front of you?”
Before she could tell me something along the lines of I don’t se
e anyone, I quickly headed out the door, leaving her to ponder what it was I was truly getting at.
17
Noah
THE SMELL OF freshly baked muffins was not a bad way to start a Sunday morning. I could think of an even better one that involved smooth skin moving on top of mine while soft curls fell around my face, but for now, I could settle for baked goods.
Last night had been a lesson in sweet torture and painful restraint. One my body was still rebelling against this morning as I thought about the sensual way Laurel had responded to my touch.
When I returned to my room last night, I’d spent the better part of the evening kicking myself for pulling back after finally getting the green light. But then I reminded myself just how explosive it would be if I let those sparks that had flickered build to an all-out burn, and suddenly I was happy I’d left things where I had.
I glanced at the clock to see it was just turning eight, and I wondered if Laurel was still somewhere here at the B&B. If I had to guess, she’d already left for the morning. She didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who’d stick around for a potentially awkward scene the next day. Not that she had anything to feel awkward about.
Laurel had turned into the sexiest women I’d ever had my hands on, and every time I closed my eyes last night, I’d thought about her in some way or another. Her mouth, her hair, that sinful moan that slipped free when I gripped it just a little too tight.
Even now as I lay here, I could clearly see her lust-filled eyes as she stared up at me with the hazy look of arousal, and I reached under the sheet to rub my aching cock.
Fuck. If this was what she could do to me from a ten-minute make-out session with all our clothes on, I couldn’t begin to imagine the power she would wield naked, in my bed.
I shoved aside the covers and thought about heading to the shower, but I knew if I got in there this morning I’d finish what I’d started just now—and for some demented reason, I found myself wanting to wait. I would wait until I got inside that hot, luscious body of Laurel’s, and that was when I’d finally let go.
Once I was decent, I made my way downstairs, following the mouth-watering scent in the air. Willa was a damn fine baker, I’d learned that firsthand over the past week, as I’d enjoyed her morning pastries, muffins, and pancakes. But if I didn’t get out of here and find somewhere else to live, and soon, I was going to end up fifty pounds heavier.
However, when I walked into the dining area where the usual breakfast setup was located, I found an empty table. There was no tablecloth, no tray filled with different juices, no coffee or tea sitting at the far end. There was absolutely nothing, and for a moment I wondered if I’d missed something on the brochure that said there were no breakfasts served on Sundays.
Just as that thought entered my mind, the kitchen door swung open and Willa rushed out carrying the tray of juices. When she spotted me, she plastered on a smile, and I rushed over to help her.
“Good morning,” she said as I took the tray from her. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it. I’m just running a little behind.”
“That’s okay, I don’t mind, and good morning to you.”
I placed the tray on the table, and when she hurried off into the kitchen, I followed, ready to lend a helping hand. I pushed through the door and stepped inside, and the sight that greeted me was impressive, to say the least.
There must’ve been over a hundred muffins around the large kitchen. There were some in Tupperware containers, some in baskets, some on cooling racks, and some still in trays.
Willa grabbed one of the baskets on the end of the counter and whirled back around, barely missing running right into me. “Oops.” She laughed and then waved a hand behind her. “Ignore all of this. I make muffins on Sundays for the town, and, well, you’re the only guest here right now, and time got away from me.”
I took the basket she was holding. “You make muffins for the entire town?”
Willa glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. “Give or take a few. We have our local Sunday baseball match.”
“That’s right. I remember those. They still have them, huh?”
“They sure do. Rain, hail, or shine. I often think that missing Sunday baseball in Chamberlin is a far greater sin than missing church.”
I laughed, remembering the extreme competitiveness of the locals. “I think you might be right.”
Willa grinned and cocked her head to the side. “Do you play?”
I did. I’d actually played on my high school team for years, but she didn’t need to know that. “I might.”
“Then you should come.”
No way. The idea of being surrounded by the whole town so soon after last weekend didn’t sound appealing at all. “I was going to head out to the winery this morning. Get a jump-start on the day.”
“Oh, come on. The winery doesn’t open until noon on Sunday, and you don’t have to be there—you have staff for that. Even Ryan takes a couple of hours for baseball.”
“He does? Ryan always hated baseball.”
“Really?” Willa scrunched her nose up. “Huh, he always helps me bring over the muffins and then stays for the game. He’s really good. You should come and see.”
As I mulled over it a little more, Willa added, “Laurel will be there.”
My lips twitched as I looked at my current landlord. “And why do you think that would matter?”
Willa crossed her arms and rested against the end of the kitchen counter. “Because you have a thing for her.”
“A thing?”
“You know what I mean. You like her. Admit it.”
“I don’t remember ever saying that I didn’t. Of course I like Laurel. She’s a great girl.”
“Uh huh.” Willa shoved away from the counter and walked over to the oven where a timer had just gone off.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What does uh huh mean?”
She pulled two more trays of muffins from the oven and turned back to face me. “It means she’s not a girl anymore, and you know it. You were all over her last night, and this Mr. Cool act? I don’t buy it for a second. You like her. Admit it.”
I knew the way small towns worked: you told one person something, and ten minutes later a hundred different variations on what you’d originally said was being whispered in eager ears. But something about Willa told me that whatever I said right now would stay between me, her, and the hundred and one muffins surrounding us.
“Okay, I admit it. I like her—a lot. But every time I’m near her, all I want to do is kiss her, which is kind of problematic in a town that likes to talk.”
“It wasn’t problematic last night…”
“No one was here last night.”
“I was.”
I wondered just how much Laurel had told her. Then a mischievous grin split Willa’s lips.
“This is exactly why you have to come to the game today. Then you can decide if whatever sparked last night between you two is still, you know, there.”
“All right. You win. What time does it start?”
“Twelve thirty. Why don’t you meet me and Ryan down here and we can all go together?”
“Sounds good.” I gestured to the basket of muffins I held. “Mind if I take one of these to tide me over until the game?”
“Go ahead.”
I nodded. “Okay. I’ll grab a juice and then bring the tray back in here for you. I only need the one glass.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
I looked at the chaos surrounding us. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”
“It’s no problem at all. I’ll see you down here at…twelve fifteen?”
“Perfect.”
Willa went back to her muffins as I headed out into the dining room, and I couldn’t help but think about getting Laurel alone somewhere at this game and working out a way to convince her to go to dinner with me.
Baseball had been our thing. I’d play; she’d cheer. It see
med like the perfect trip down memory lane to warm her to me—right?
18
Laurel
“YOU PLAYING TODAY, or is your head throbbing a little too hard?”
I glanced over the roof of the car to where Jake was hiking his sports bag up his arm. “I already told you, I’m not hungover.”
“Uh huh. That’s why you look like you haven’t slept all night.”
Awesome. That was good to know, considering I was about to see ninety percent of the town this afternoon. “Haven’t I taught you not to ever tell a woman she looks anything other than perfect?”
Jake laughed as he came around the hood of the car. “I mean, you don’t look bad. But the big old sunglasses, the baseball cap? You look like you’re hiding in there. And there’s only one reason you’d do that.”
“Oh? And what’s that, genius?”
“Bloodshot eyes.”
“I do not have bloodshot eyes.” I slid my glasses down my nose. “See?”
Jake made a show of inspecting them then shrugged. “A little baggy, maybe.”
I shoved him in the arm. “You’re horrible. I’m disowning you.”
“You’ve been threatening that for years.”
“Yes, and one day I will follow through.” I pushed my glasses back in place and shut the car door behind me. “Now get going, would you? I might not be playing, but I’m pretty sure Betty won’t be impressed if her star player has a sudden leg injury from a kick to his shin.”
Jake chuckled as he took off jogging toward the field, and I quickly turned around to take a look at myself in the car’s side mirror. I winced at the picture I made. Jake was right: I looked like one of those celebrities who shoved on the hat and glasses, then made a mad dash for their favorite fast food restaurant, hoping the paparazzi wouldn’t see the Quarter Pounder and large fries they just bought for a late-night binge session.
