Authors: Gillian Archer
“I think I’ll let him explain that one to you.”
Sara sat in the middle of the bench seat of Marc’s pickup,
still stunned by Rob’s behavior. Sure, she’d seen him drunk before. Buzzed
anyway. But she’d never seen him falling-down,
couldn’t-walk-on-his-own-two-feet drunk.
Rob always had such control over himself. He could relax and
have a good time with them but he never, ever let completely go. His rigid
control was one reason he made such a great cop. He was so trustworthy. But
even on their wildest night out, he always held that little part of himself
back.
Until tonight.
“So what happened with Prince Charming?”
Sara flinched at the mumbled question and the puff of beer
odor that came with it. Crap. She really didn’t want to talk about the parking
lot incident again.
“How about we talk about something else, Rob? Did you see
the Diamondbacks game last week?”
Sara sighed in relief at Marc’s distraction.
“I don’t want to talk about the fucking Demonbacks,” Rob
slurred. “I wanna know why Sara broke up with Mr. Ivy League!”
Although she was glad they weren’t going to rehash the
parking-lot incident, Sara
really
didn’t want to talk about Greg. “You
know. It was just one of those things.”
“Did you catch the bastard cheating on you? I knew he wasn’t
good enough for ya. Didn’t I tell you, Marc? I knew he was a playboy. He was
boinking one of his students, wasn’t he?”
“He wasn’t boinking one of his students. Drop it, okay?”
“He found out that the senior center was the best meat
market in town, right? Wanted to date someone born in the same decade?”
“No. Leave it alone, Rob,” Sara snapped and crossed her
arms, seriously not amused. This was definitely one thing she wouldn’t miss.
Rob and Marc had always disliked Greg and took special pleasure in rubbing the
slight age difference in her face.
“Did he finally discover he was gay? I told you, Marc. All
the signs were clearly there. The earring in his left ear, the thing he did
with his hands when he ta—”
“We broke up because he found out I’m a virgin!” Sara
wailed, staring straight ahead.
Her pulse pounded in her ears as her face heated. Why the
hell did she say it? She definitely didn’t want them to know
that
. Just
thinking about all the shit they gave her for her “old man fetish” made her
shiver in suspense, waiting for the hailstorm of teasing that would come now.
The silence was deafening as she waited.
And waited.
Finally unable to take the suspense, she peeked at Rob from
the corner of her eye.
He stared back at her in mute shock.
She closed her eyes as a new wave of mortification swept
over her.
Fuck. Why? Why now? Why me?
“I-I…” Marc’s croak drew her attention. She found him
looking back and forth between her and the road.
Lord, take me now.
Was she a freak? Apparently there
was something innately horrifying about that little piece of information. It
seemed to make every man freeze in shock, unable to form a coherent sentence.
She struggled not to listen to her mother’s distant voice
ringing in her ears.
Premarital sex means eternal damnation. I have to
suffer the shame of one bastard grandchild. I will not stand the humiliation of
another.
Damn it, she was tired of being punished for her brother
Jason’s mistakes. Just because she wanted to have sex—was going to have
sex—didn’t make her worthy of a scarlet letter. She had gone to the other end
of the spectrum. There could be no possibility of an out-of-wedlock pregnancy
when she was still a virgin.
“Bullshit.”
Sara flinched but refused to look at Rob. She wasn’t going
through that embarrassment again.
“I said bullshit. What about Riley Steever? You guys never…”
Rob made a rude gesture with his hands.
“I think I would remember that, Rob. No, we never…” Sara
repeated the gesture back to him.
“Wow.”
Sara gasped as the truck swerved to the shoulder. The
momentum threw her hard against Marc. When they skidded to a stop, Sara grabbed
the dashboard and slid back to her portion of the bench seat. Marc wasn’t
drunk. She had checked before they left.
“What the hell, man?” Rob grumbled.
Sara looked at Marc in concern. “Uh, maybe I should call for
a cab. Are you feeling okay?”
“You’re a virgin!” Marc shouted.
“Welcome to the conversation. Could you say it a little
louder? I don’t think they heard you in Canada.” Sara couldn’t keep the bite
out of her voice.
“What the fuck was that in the parking lot? Were you really
going to go home with that clown?”
“What clown? What’re y’all talking about?”
A wave of mortification swept over her. “Nothing, Rob. Leave
it alone, Marc. Come on. I’m tired. Let’s go.”
“No. We’re going to sit right here until you explain
yourself.”
“God,
Dad
. Last I checked, I didn’t have to answer to
you.” Sara hunched her shoulders and refused to look at him.
“No, you do have to answer to me when I have to save you
from horny strangers in bar parking lots.”
“What? What happened?” Rob grabbed Sara’s shoulders and
shook her. “Jesus, are you okay? What did that fucker do to you?”
Sara grimaced at the puff of stale beer emanating from Rob.
She really hated that smell. “Nothing. Nothing happened.” She turned and glared
at Marc.
He raised his eyebrow in response.
“Don’t give me that look, smart-ass. I saved myself.”
“Why did you need saving?” Rob ran his hands up and down her
arms. “Are you all right, baby?”
Sara enjoyed the sensation of Rob’s caress. What she
wouldn’t give if he would do this sober. And not just because he was worried
about her. If only she could remove that stale beer smell.
“Yes, Rob. I’m fine. I had to teach him when a woman says
no, she means no.”
“That’s my girl.”
Sara grunted in surprise as Rob gathered her into his arms
and squeezed her tight. She fantasized for a second about what she’d like to do
with him if they were alone in the truck.
Marc clearing his throat interrupted her naughty little
dream.
“And why were you in the parking lot, little Miss Goody
Two-shoes?”
Rob pulled away from her. “Yeah and why are you all dressed
to kill?”
“I…um… I might have been a little rash. I was going to—” she
paused and finished under her breath, “get rid of it.”
The cab throbbed in silence.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at either man. She didn’t
want to see their disgust or pity. A wave of shame washed over her body. What
was wrong with her? Why had she been so willing to throw herself at the first
available man she rubbed up against in a bar? Her eyes pooled with tears and
she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from sobbing like a baby in front of
her two best friends.
She had never cried in front of them. Would never cry in
front of them.
“Ah, baby, if that’s what all this was about you should’ve
asked
me
.”
Sara gasped as Rob grabbed her, tugged her to him then
covered her lips with his. She hardly had a second to enjoy the sensation of
her wildest fantasy come to life when he pulled away.
“Get this fucking truck back on the road right now. I’m too
old to make out in a pickup.”
Sara hid her burning face in Rob’s chest. She couldn’t
believe he kissed her. She couldn’t believe he said that. And to Marc. Oh crap.
What was Marc thinking right now? She shrank into Rob’s chest as she felt
Marc’s smoldering gaze rake her body. She just knew what was running through
his mind. She was desperate. A tramp. Who dry-humps a stranger in a bar, almost
goes home with him and then propositions her best friend all in the span of an
hour? A slut, that’s who.
God, she had to get her mother’s voice out of her head.
Wasn’t this the whole reason for her trip to the bar? To finally get out from
under her mother’s shadow? She was a grown woman, damn it. It was high time she
started to act like it.
At the same time she couldn’t help but wish she had a family
like Rob’s. Or Marc’s. Sara had probably spent more time at their houses
growing up than she had in her own. The love and acceptance from both their
mothers just underscored how dysfunctional her own family had been.
The sound of Marc grinding the gears before the truck slowly
picked up speed jerked her from her painful memories. She snuggled deeper into
Rob’s embrace. In just a few minutes they would be home. Rob and Marc’s home
anyway. There would probably be a slight awkward moment before she and Rob
ducked into his bedroom but she could do it. Especially considering the prize
she had waiting at the finish line.
She enjoyed the novel sensation of cuddling with Rob. His
rock-hard body was a definite change to Greg’s. God, she had to stop doing
that. She deserved better. Rob deserved better. She had wanted him for so long.
Marc too, if she was honest with herself. What woman wouldn’t? They were built
like gods, were sweethearts and her best friends in the whole wide world.
Oh shit. She couldn’t do this. What would happen tomorrow? Would
Rob still be her friend? Would Marc? What if sleeping with his best friend made
things awkward between them? What if Rob wanted a one-night stand? How could
she still be friends with him after that?
Sara couldn’t imagine her world without Marc and Rob in it.
They had been her best friends since Marc stole her fingerpaints in
kindergarten and Rob made him give them back. Their teacher had force the
bickering trio to play together and they had been best friends ever since. She
had to make sure that their friendship, between all three of them, wouldn’t
change if they did this. If they did
it
.
Wait, was that a snore?
Sara lifted her head from Rob’s chest to look at his face.
His head hung over the back of the bench seat, his mouth open and his eyes
shut.
She was sitting here contemplating the end of their
friendship and Rob was happily sawing logs, not a care in the world. Had he
even been serious about his offer?
She turned to the front of the truck and leaned away from
Rob. She couldn’t touch him right now. She didn’t know what to think. What was
she going to do when they got to the house?
Well, she had to come up with something pretty quick.
The truck rolled to a stop in Marc and Rob’s driveway.
Marc waited for Sara and Rob to make their mad dash out of
the truck and into the house. Together. His knuckles whitened with his grip on
the steering wheel at the thought of what they were going to do in his house.
He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t stand the idea of Rob and Sara together just
down the hall from his room. Maybe he should find somewhere else to sleep
tonight. Marc tried to muffle his groan as his head drooped.
“He fell asleep.”
Marc flinched at the hoarse whisper that pierced the dead
quiet. He turned his head to find Sara still sitting next to him, staring at
her fingers with tears pooling in her eyes. He looked beyond her to where Rob
was dead to the world, his mouth open with a small trail of drool on his chin.
“What’s wrong with me?”
Marc stared in disbelief at the despair in Sara’s voice.
“Princess, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect. You’re better than
perfect. You’re—”
“A desperate virgin slut who can’t get laid to save her
life.” Sara covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with
suppressed sobs.
The sight of Sara crying was almost more than he could
handle. She was always so strong. His gut twisted, galvanizing him into action.
Marc whipped off his seat belt and reached for her, unbuckling her seat belt to
pull her onto his lap.
“God, Sara. Don’t say that. You’re sexy and hot. Any guy
would give his left nut to be with you.” Sara
was
hot. There was no
denying it. He couldn’t believe she didn’t see it.
And then the rest of her declaration hit him. Virgin! His
Sara was an untouched, pure-as-the-driven-snow virgin. It might make him a
barbaric prick but the thought of being her first made him instantly hard. He’d
be her first
and last
if he had anything to say about it.
She gave a watery chuckle. “You’re full of it. Rob was so
excited he fell asleep.”
“Well, he’s drunk and a dipshit.” He shifted a little
uncomfortably in an attempt to hide his obvious arousal.
Sara sighed heavily. “Maybe it’s just not meant to be.”
Marc waited a beat as his mind raced. “What? You and Rob?”
“Me and Rob. Me and sex. Maybe I should chuck it all and
join a convent.”
Over his dead body.
“Okay, I think you’ve had too
much to drink too. Come on, let’s go inside and get some coffee into you.”
Sara acquiesced, another sign she wasn’t thinking straight.
She was never one to meekly follow. She never would have let him carry her into
house without a shriek of protest or an attempt to turn it into a wrestling
match.
“What about Rob?”
“Rob’s a big boy. Let’s concentrate on you right now.”
Marc carried her to the front door. Her curvy body pressed
firmly against his. So soft and snuggly. A waft of her fruity shampoo teased
his nostrils. He closed his eyes briefly. It was almost more than he could
handle. His Sara finally in his arms.
A choked sob broke through his fantasy and he fumbled with
the door before carrying her over the threshold into the living room. He felt a
pang in his chest at the symbolism. His second biggest wish was being fulfilled
but not in the way he had dreamt. Walking to the couch, he took a little longer
than required, wanting to prolong the moment. He didn’t want to let her go. If
she were his, he wouldn’t have to.
Unable to stall any longer without raising suspicion, he
gently placed her on the couch. “I’ll just go make some coffee. You stay right
there.”
Sara kicked off her shoes and snuggled into the arm of the
couch. Her small toes wiggled against the sofa, a bright pop of red color
against the drab-brown cushions. He could easily imagine nibbling them while
watching her squirm. Preferably naked.
Yep, he was definitely a goner. Never before had he found
the sight of bare feet arousing. Marc turned around and walked quickly into the
kitchen. He had to keep his hands busy before he did something Sara would no
doubt regret in the morning. Sara was tipsy. She might not be totally drunk but
he couldn’t make a move on her. He wanted her to be totally aware of what was
going on.
If
he made his move.
The little devil on his shoulder reminded him that Sara
hadn’t turned to him. She definitely hadn’t done her super-sexy dance with him
at Cat & Mouse. And he wasn’t the one who kissed her in the truck tonight.
Lord knew he didn’t make much on his electrician’s salary. Sara could
definitely do better than him. For all he knew, she didn’t even like him that
way.
Fuck it. He couldn’t go on wondering if she did. If she ever
would. He’d find out for himself. Suck it up and just ask her.
Now he’d just have to wait until she could answer
coherently.
Marc grabbed a cup then filled it with coffee before adding
three teaspoons of sugar. He grinned as he stirred the mug. Nobody had a
sweeter tooth than his Sara. He’d never forget the look on that waiter’s face
when she asked for chocolate syrup to go with her french fries. He’d never had
the courage to try it but his Sara swore it was delicious.
Knowing he’d waited as long as he could, Marc set the
teaspoon in the sink and made the long, difficult walk into the living room.
Sara slumped on the sofa and waited for Marc to reappear.
She should probably offer to help but she just couldn’t seem to make her legs
work. Couldn’t muster up her give-a-damn either.
“Here you go.”
She gasped at the sight of Marc standing before her, holding
a steaming mug of coffee. Crap, he was quick. She still hadn’t figured out what
to say to him.
“Thanks.” She grimaced at the hoarseness of her voice.
Taking the mug from him, Sara hid her face while she made
the pretext of blowing on the steaming coffee. Anything was better than making
eye contact with Marc. She didn’t know what to do, what to say. She didn’t want
to see his pity. To look at him and know he felt sorry for her. And that he
wanted to get away from the drama that seemed to follow her everywhere lately.
“Is it too hot?”
“What?” Sara looked up and into Marc’s face. Damn it. There
was the sympathy and the pity she hadn’t wanted to see. She glanced away. “No,
it’s fine.” She took a huge, slurping drink as proof.
And almost seared her mouth as a result. She swallowed the
burning liquid, her eyes filling with tears. “Yummy.”
Marc chuckled as he took a seat catty-corner to her in the
armchair a few feet away.
Sara looked down at her coffee cup again and tried to think
of something innocuous to say. Anything other than addressing the elephant in
the room.
“It was a nice night tonight.” She closed her eyes in
mortification.
Great, let’s chat about the weather.
“Really? So getting felt up on the dance floor and almost
raped in a parking lot counts as a nice night, huh?”
Sara’s face burned and she bit the inside of her cheek as
she tried to hold back the tears. She knew it. He did think she was a slut.
Placing the mug on the coffee table, she stood, her knees a little unsteady. “I
think I should go.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry, princess. That came out wrong.”
“No, you’re right. I acted like a slut tonight and I’m damn
lucky nothing really bad happened.”
“Hey!” Marc rose to grab her shoulders. “What happened in
the parking lot wasn’t your fault. Any real man knows no means no. He had no
right to—”
“Don’t give me that. I was a tease tonight! I rubbed up
against him at the bar and then changed my mind at the last second. I was
stupid.”
“You’re damn right it was stupid. And if you pull a stunt
like that again, I’ll tan your hide until you can’t sit down for a week.”
Sara stared at Marc in fascination. He sounded possessive.
About
her
. She shivered at his imagery. Was that supposed to be a
punishment?
“And another thing. I can’t believe you wanted to throw away
your virginity on the first guy who looked at you. Why would you waste such a
precious gift on some drunk, sleazy bastard? Why didn’t you just come to me?”
Sara stared at Marc and tried to think of something to say.
Was he serious? She should have come to him? Her nipples tightened at the
thought. It took no amount of imagination to picture him naked and on top of
her. Oh God. The thought had tormented her all through her teenage years. To
really kiss him. To touch him and let him touch her so intimately. She wanted
to whimper.
“I-I…uh, didn’t think you thought about me that way.”
“Well, now you know I do.”
Marc pulled her in close and slanted his mouth softly over
hers. He gently coaxed and teased her with his deft tongue. Sara turned off her
whirling mind and let herself be absorbed in the kiss. In Marc. Her knees grew
weak as she sagged against him. His strong arms wrapped tightly around her body
and drew her in even closer.
Pulling back, Marc rested his forehead against hers. “Now
you have a decision to make. Is it going to be Rob or me?”
Sara blinked the haziness from her eyes. Decision? Oh crap.
His ultimatum hit her like a slap in the face. She had to choose between her
two best friends in the whole world? She was so screwed. How could either
friendship survive her choosing one of the guys over the other?
When did her life get so complicated?
“I—”
“Uh-uh. Not tonight. No huge decisions should be made until
after
the hangover.” Marc turned her around and frog-marched her down the hall to the
guest-room-slash-office. He opened the door and ushered her inside. “You can
sleep over tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“But—”
He softly closed the door between them.
Sara stood there still numb over what just happened. In less
than an hour she had been attacked, kissed by both her best friends and then
left alone with the hugest decision she ever had to make.
What was she going to do?
How could she choose?
She curled into a ball on the middle of the bed. At that
moment, more than anything she wished she had a good girlfriend. Someone she
could discuss this monumental decision with. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t.
Come to think of it, she had never had one. She had tried to reach out to the
girls in her class but the combination of their cattiness over her friendship
with the guys, her own tomboy traits and her mother’s overbearingness killed
her social life.
And it wasn’t as if she had a great relationship with her
mother. No way in hell was she talking to
her
about this. She didn’t
need to literally hear chapter and verse about why she was going to hell. No
sympathy would be found there.
Sara sighed. She’d just have to think this one through on
her own. Somewhere in this muck was the right decision. She just had to find
it.