A Baby...Maybe? & How to Hunt a Husband (23 page)

“Are you sure?” he asked. The laughter had died from his voice. Now she heard something else, something thick and hot.

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“So, basically, you want me to stay over here and watch you…strip.”

“Yeah. Remember, no touching.”

“Your boss has rules, right, Roxy?” he asked. There was humor in the question, but underneath that was desire.

“Right, my boss has rules.”

He leaned back on his elbows and watched. “Ah, Roxy, I'm a lucky man.”

“And don't you forget it, Bull.”

She worked the powder a little farther and pulled again. The pants moved. Slowly, bit by bit, she eased them down. Once clear of her hips, they came off.

Free at last.

“Hey, Roxy, I like the undies.”

Shannon blushed, knowing he was looking at her thong underwear. “I bought them to go with the outfit. They made me feel sexier.”

He pulled her toward the bed. “I think you should wear them all the time.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

“Really. Thinking of you in your powder-blue oxford shirt, jeans and sneakers, so proper on the outside, but knowing you have these on underneath, and that I'm the only one who knows about them…I think I'd like it.”

She was sitting next to him, and his hands were moving all over her, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.

“Move a bit closer,” he murmured, pulling her next to him, so that their thighs touched.

She was falling back under his spell…falling hard. “I don't know, Bull. Mama says bikers are dangerous,” she murmured.

“Yeah we are. We live on the wild side.”

She reached out and ran her hand down his naked torso. “Now, where were we?”

“I think we were doing this…” He swept her into his arms and kissed her. All the fun and laughter was cast aside in a wave of longing.

They kissed, they touched. The world outside the bedroom door was long forgotten. The questions were gone. In their place was just this man. This time. The feel of him. The scent of him.

Shannon was high on the wash of sensations that flooded her system.

“Nate,” she whispered as his lips left hers and continued their course of exploration.

Lower, lower. He reached the thong underwear, but rather than removing them, he simply caressed beneath them and through them.

The effect was like spontaneous combustion. Shannon felt as if something burst as she squirmed beneath his probing until it was almost too much.

“Your turn,” she murmured, realizing he hadn't removed his jeans.

“I'm not finished.”

“I know, but still, it's my turn with you.”

She began her own study, trying to learn everything about him. Soft skin, hard muscle, downy hair…different textures, different feels, but all adding up to Nate.

She fumbled for her nightstand drawer and removed a small foil package. She'd never found condoms very sensual, but as she slowly slid this one in place, firmly fitting it to the length of him, she realized they could be. That with the right person, every movement was part of the package and could become an erotic part of making love.

She shuddered with need.

Nate moaned, and in one fluid movement, flipped Shannon on her back, removed her panties, and plunged into her depths. She met his every thrust, needing to feel him as deeply as possible. Needing to drive this frenzy to fulfillment.

Needing.

Needing.

And suddenly it wasn't need. His driving rhythm sent her over the edge of desire to completion. She screamed with the power of it. And at that primal sound, Nate too groaned, as his movements slowed,
then stopped. He was still buried deep within her, embedding himself fully within her, branding himself on her skin. Still joined, he sank on top of her, his body fused with hers.

Just as she thought she might run out of oxygen, he rolled slowly to one side, but held her, rolling her as well, so she was facing him.

“Wow,” he said with a smile.

Nate Calder might not be the most eloquent guy around, but this once Shannon couldn't think of a better way to put it.

“Wow,” she repeated as she snuggled into his embrace.

 

N
ATE HELD
S
HANNON
as she slept. He was too keyed up to sleep himself.

What they'd just shared…

He couldn't quite figure it out.

He'd wanted it to be just sex. Two friends sharing a moment together.

Bedroom buddies, he'd told her.

But it wasn't just sex.

Sex was easy. This wasn't.

They'd laughed together over her pants dilemma.

He'd never laughed in the middle of becoming intimate with a woman. That in itself was new and different. Maybe the situation should have pulled him from the moment, but it hadn't. If anything, it had intensified his need. Added a new dimension to his desire.

He touched a spiky strand of hair.

Shannon O'Malley was different from any other woman he'd ever had a relationship with. He wasn't sure just what that difference was, but he was sure it was addictive.

After what they'd just done, he should be thinking of leaving, of going home. He'd never spent the night with a woman, unless you counted the other night when he'd fallen asleep with Shannon.

Even then she was different.

He knew that unless she kicked him out, he was staying tonight. Staying as long as she'd let him.

He gently rolled out of bed, and went into her bathroom, then quietly slipped back under the covers and pulled her into his arms.

In her sleep, she cuddled into his chest and sighed. And Nate knew he could finally sleep as well. Maybe in his dreams he could figure out just what was different about Shannon
Roxy
O'Malley.

S
HANNON WOKE UP
to the sensation of warmth and weight. It took a moment for her sleep-fogged mind to register just what that meant.

Somebody was in her bed.

More specifically, Nathan, aka Bull, Calder was lying next to her, hogging the covers.

Even more specifically…she liked it.

This was the second time she'd woken up next to him.

She smiled as she inched closer to him until the length of him was pressed against her back. He shifted in his sleep, wrapping his arms around her.

She'd slept with Nate, both figuratively and literally.

The thought kept chasing itself around in her brain. It was easier to acknowledge the sleeping part than the part that came before they slept.

This was just a friendship that extended to the bedroom.

Which made it hard to classify what they did as
making love,
but making love is exactly how it felt to Shannon even if she couldn't call it that. She wasn't sure what to call it.

Sex
sounded too raw and hard.

She thought of the terms she'd overheard kids at school use. Most sounded worse than sex. Then she hit on
boinking
and smiled. It sounded light and fun, sort of like what they'd done.

If what they'd done wasn't making love, then it was, by its very definition, light.

Light and fun.

She'd boinked Nathan Calder.

He wasn't her boyfriend. He was a friend who was male. A partner.

And so they weren't lovers, and they were no longer just friend and allies.

They were…boink-buddies.

She laughed.

“What's so funny?”

She turned and looked at the man next to her. “Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”

“You didn't,” he assured her. “I've been awake for a while now.”

“Why didn't you get up?”

“I was just enjoying the scenery.”

“Scenery?” You couldn't see out the window in her room from her bed. Suddenly his meaning occurred to her. “Oh.”

He grinned. “So, why were you laughing?”

“I was just trying to define…” she hesitated, “Well, this. What we have between us.”

He shifted slightly, reminding Shannon she was naked in bed with him.

“And did you?” he asked, his voice low and…well, sexy.

Shannon didn't feel sexy. She felt naked and more than a little rumpled.

“Did you, Shannon-me-love?”

“Did I what?” she asked, unsure what they'd been talking about, but totally sure that whatever it was, it wasn't nearly as enthralling as the naked man next to her.

“Did you decide how to define us?” he asked.

“Yep. You said bedroom buddies, but I have a much better term.”

“Are you going to tell me?” He reached out and toyed with her hair. Whether he was smoothing it out, or mussing it up, she wasn't sure, but the feel of it made her want to purr like a kitten. She wanted to arch her back and let him continue to run his hands anywhere he wanted.

This was definitely better than hairy legs and chick-flicks.

“Shannon?” he murmured. “What's your new term for us?”

She grinned. “Boink-buddies.”

“What?” he asked.

“Well, I couldn't quite define us as lovers.”

“Why not?”

She'd expected to hear laughter in his voice when she'd revealed her term for their relationship. That didn't sound like humor, but more like an
noyance. She shifted slightly, putting space between them.

“Why wouldn't you define us as lovers?” he pressed.

“Because we're not. You don't love me. I don't love you. We like each other. We're partners in crime. Friends. A friendship that extends to the bedroom. Remember?”

Nate remembered all right. After all, he'd been the one spouting that nonsense last night. And last night it had sounded perfectly logical and completely desirable to just be bedroom buddies.

But this morning?

He didn't want logic.

He didn't want to be just friends who slept together.

And he didn't want what he'd done with Shannon reduced to such a frivolous term as
boink-buddies.

What they'd done had been…magic. He winced at the word. It sounded way too sentimental for him to be using, but it was accurate.

Magic.

What they'd done together had been so much more than anything he'd ever experienced, and Shannon was doing her best to minimize it.

“Nate, what's wrong?” she asked softly.

“Nothing,” he said, though he knew that for the lie it was. There was something more than just
boinking
between him and Shannon.

Making love?

It certainly sounded more accurate than boinking.

Normally using a phrase like
making love
would be what made him grimace. But not this time. Not with Shannon.

Yet, he didn't point the fact out to her. Why? Because using the term out loud would give it a power he wasn't sure he was willing to give.

She moved farther away from him.

“I think I'm going to grab a shower, if you don't mind,” she said. “Obviously you're not a morning person.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

He heard the sharpness in his voice, but was annoyed enough that he didn't try and temper it.

“You're grumpy and quiet. I'll just let you wake up while I get dressed.”

“Fine.”

She wrapped the top blanket around her, and took it with her as she got out of the bed. He wasn't even going to get to enjoy the view.

Great.

What had looked like a promising morning suddenly looked as if it couldn't get any worse.

 

S
HANNON HAD
her shower, then headed to the kitchen. The atmosphere was oppressive.

Nate was still quiet and Shannon wasn't sure if it was indeed just a morning mood. He seemed putout about something.

Maybe he regretted what they'd done.

Maybe he thought she'd suddenly start placing all kinds of girlfriend demands on him. Well, she thought as she dug around in the cupboard for a coffee filter, she wasn't about to do that.

She didn't want a significant other any more than he did.

They were friendly allies and boink-buddies, nothing more, nothing less. That didn't give either of them any rights to make demands. Actually, a demandless relationship was what they'd planned, so if that's why he was mad, well he could just get over himself.

Granted, last night was the best boinking she'd ever had.

Having a man who could make her laugh even as he made her quiver with desire…well, that was rare and special. A man like that was to be treasured.

But treasuring didn't mean owning.

“Do you want anything to go with the coffee?” Shannon asked the silent, grumpy man sitting at her counter.

“You can't cook, remember?”

“I can make a bowl of cold cereal,” she assured him.

Okay, so cooking wasn't her forte, but it wasn't as if she couldn't pour some milk.

“Are you sure? I—”

The doorbell interrupted him.

After the way the morning had started, Shannon
figured things couldn't get worse…then the doorbell rang again.

“Shannon? Open up. It's your mother.”

Things had just gone from worse to
worse-r.

“Oh, rats.” She stayed in the kitchen, hiding in case her mother peeked through the door's small window. “Do you think I can wait her out?”

“Shannon, I know you're in there,” her mother called.

“Nope. I think she knows you're here. And since my Harley's out front, I'm betting she knows I'm here as well,” Nate—ever the optimist—said.

“Rats.”

“Want me to get it?” he offered.

If she wasn't still annoyed with his less than pleasant mood this morning, she might sigh and think something like,
my hero.
But she was annoyed.

He regretted last night and that was what accounted for his attitude.

Well, fine. Let him regret it.

It wasn't as if she'd built any hopes on a forever sort of relationship with him.

“Shannon, do you want me to get it?” he asked again.

She gave her head a little shake. “No. She's my mother. My problem. But be prepared. You know what she's going to think.”

“That we're sleeping together…oh, no, what's the term you used?
Boinking.
” He practically
sneered the word as he said it. “She's going to think we're boinking.”

“What's with you this morning?” Shannon asked. Enough was enough. “You've been in a mood since we first woke up. Maybe you're regretting last night, but you don't have to worry. I won't be making any demands on you. You set the ground rules and I'm more than happy to live by them. A quick tumble in bed isn't going to change my desire to remain independent.”

“Go get the door, Shannon. I'll finish making the coffee, and we can talk about my mood and your potential demands after your company leaves.”

“Fine.” She walked to the door with all the enthusiasm of a woman walking to the guillotine.

Nate was regretting last night. He was probably going to tell her he wanted out of the charade and out of their friendship.

She could get by without ever playing Roxy again, but if Nate left for good…she'd miss him.

Darn.

And if that weren't enough of a problem, her mother was here.

What else could go wrong today?

She opened the door, suddenly very aware of her bare feet. Why having bare feet should embarrass her, she wasn't sure. Odds were her mother had seen her feet bare thousands of times. But there it was.

Bare feet spoke of comfort…of being relaxed.

Her feet were bare and Nate was in her kitchen making coffee.

No, the day wasn't looking overly bright.

“Good morning, Mom. What's up?”

Brigit pushed her way into the foyer. “Shannon Bonnie O'Malley, that man is here.”

“Yes, he is. I think he's in the kitchen finishing making coffee. Would you like a cup?”

“No. It's eight o'clock on a Sunday morning and there's a man in your kitchen making coffee. Do you see what's wrong with this picture?”

“Yes.” Shannon nodded, trying to look appropriately serious. “I know what's wrong with this picture, Mom. I'm not in the kitchen drinking that coffee, and you know I function better with a jolt of caffeine coursing through my veins.”

“Now, Shannon, I realize you're a grown woman—”

“Do you, Mom?” Shannon asked softly.

“Do I what?”

“Realize I'm a grown woman?”

“Of course I do. You and your sister are both grown women, and you know the last thing I want to do is interfere in your lives.”

“Then why are you here yelling about a man in my kitchen? Why have you spent too many weeks trying to find me a husband? Why—”

Her next why would have to wait. There was another knock on the door.

“Did you leave Dad outside?” Shannon asked.

That would be just like her mom. Leaving her father outside left Shannon without an ally. Her mother liked to use every advantage.

“No, I left him at home. He doesn't know that you and Nate are practically living together. It would break the poor man's heart to know that his daughter is shacking up with a man.”

“I'm not shacking up. But if it's not Dad, then who…” Shannon left the question trail off as she opened the door and found herself face to face with Nate's mom.

“Mrs. Calder?” she asked weakly.

“Shannon, dear. Is Nate here?”

“Nate?” Shannon's mom said. “Oh, you mean Bull.”

“Bull?” Mrs. Calder echoed, obviously confused.

“Nate's biker name,” Shannon's mom supplied.

“That darned motorcycle,” Mrs. Calder said as she walked into the house. “I hate it. He's going to get in an accident and kill himself on that thing. Why, he almost did himself in fixing my sink. A man who could injure himself under a sink is a man who shouldn't be tooling around town on a motorcycle. Really, I hate it.”

Her mom nodded. “I imagine you do. Look at the slippery slope it dragged Bull down.”

Mrs. Calder shot Mrs. O'Malley a strange look.

Shannon felt like Alice having slipped down the
rabbit hole and confronting Tweedle Judy and Tweedle Mum.

Her mom thought Nate was a biker, his mom thought she was a stripper.

If last night's dinner meeting was ill-met, then this morning's gathering was absolutely insane.

“Let me go get Nate,” Shannon said softly.

She needed help here.

He might be upset, but one half of their mom problems was his mom problem.

Where was he? It didn't take this long to make coffee. He was probably hiding. Well, he could just un-hide because while she might be willing to face her mom on her own, no way was she taking on his as well.

“Why don't you both make yourself at home, while I go find Nate.”

“No need,” he said as he walked down the hall. He'd obviously helped himself to a quick shower. He was wearing his jeans from the night before, and one of her old T-shirts. What was a big sloppy T-shirt on her was tight on him and emphasized every muscle on his chest.

Now that Shannon had firsthand knowledge of that chest, the memory made her blood heat up.

“Mom,” he said, “and Mrs. O'Malley. It's a bit early to come calling don't you think?”

“I tried calling your cell phone,” Nate's mom said, “but all I got was your voice mail.”

“How did you know where Shannon lived, Mom?” Nate asked.

“I looked it up in the phone book,” she said, then turned to Shannon. “Don't you think it would be wise to have an unlisted number, honey? Given what you do for a living?”