Spicy with a Side of Cranberry Sauce (16 page)

She gasped as his hand trailed over her belly and up to her left breast. He pushed his hand into her bra and cupped her breast in his palm. Her nipple pebbled against him. He dipped his head to her throat and licked and sucked until she was ready to topple over the edge.
Not yet
. She moved her hands down his abdomen to unzip his slacks with clumsy fingers, and he lifted her higher on his hips so the fabric would slide down his legs. He let the pants pool around his ankles as she shoved the waistband of his boxers out of the way.

“I’m kind of busy here. You next,” he said, returning one hand to her nipple and holding her close with the other. She wriggled against him, hiking her pencil skirt up around her belly and pulling at her panties. A red thong. She might try to tell herself she hadn’t come here for this, but her choice of clothes told her that was a lie. She yanked the thin piece of fabric at her hip, and the welcome tear delighted her. She tossed the panties aside, and he grinned.

“Hey, I sorta liked those,” he said.

“Yeah, me too. But I like this more,” she said and cupped his length. She’d missed being able to touch him these last few days.

He laughed, and the movement shook him in her hands.

“Condom?” he asked.

“Don’t bother.” She’d been good, taking all her pills for the last three weeks. She was due any day now for her period. “Unless you need to?”

He froze against her. Oh, no.

His face fell. “You really think I’ve gone out and had some no-glove love in the past four days?”

“No.” Her voice came out more forcefully than she’d intended. No wonder he looked so stricken.

“Good,” he said simply, a slight smile on his lips. “But you don’t have to shout.” He wiggled free of her fingers and cupped her bare ass. She bent back, pushing her shoulders hard into the cool wall behind her. The mix of hot skin and cold wall, of soft flesh and hard plaster flooded her veins with desire. The edge of pain was nice too. She clutched his shoulders, and he slammed into her.

“Oh, God,” she squealed.

He didn’t pause within her but pulled back and pushed in again. The rhythm he set was brutal, filling her fully and forcefully with each thrust, and she loved it. Her thigh muscles clenched his hips, and her body started to shake. She was so close.

“Mason,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to be quiet this time.”

Oh, God, he was right. She wanted to scream just to hear it. He pounded into her again, and she groaned loudly.

“Yes, that’s it. Right there. Let’s make the neighbors jealous,” he said. He massaged her ass.

“Don’t stop,” she urged.

“Like I was gonna?” He grinned, thrusting.

“Ah…God,” she said as the rockets started going off behind her eyes. Still, he didn’t let up on the pounding rhythm. He leaned his head down to her ear and licked her earlobe.

“Make sure you come loudly,” he whispered.

He drove into her one last time and yelled. The neighbors probably heard her from down the hall.

“You know, this isn’t what I came here for,” Amy said, her voice hoarse. He lowered her to shaking legs and was just as ready to collapse as she looked.

But then his mind starting whirring, bringing up worst-case scenarios. What had she come here for, then? Oh, God. She’d told him “don’t bother” with the condom. Did that mean it was already too late? Had he gotten her pregnant?

“Yo, Mason.” She snapped her fingers before his face. “Stop thinking and come back to earth.” She tugged her skirt down over her hips, hiding her gorgeous legs and triangle of blonde curls from his view. He pulled up his boxers and pants and fought the urge to slump.

“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry. I kind of attacked you, huh?”

She yanked him to her with one hand and hooked her right leg back up over his hip. She was taller in the short heels she wore. The perfect pelvic height, certainly.

“Yes, you did. And I enjoyed every minute of it.” Her voice practically purred. Okay. So not what she’d come here for, but she’d been just as eager as he was. Good. She lowered her leg but didn’t put any distance between them.

“Do you want to…” He motioned to the couch in the living room behind her.

She shook her head. “Think we can shower and chat at the same time?”

“Probably not. If we’re naked, I don’t think there will be much talking involved.” He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he said it. As he pictured her naked in his shower down the hall. It was small. Really only big enough for one person. That just meant they’d have to be nice and cozy if they shared. Nothing was right in his world now, but just seeing her again, having her in his arms with her scent surrounding him made a weird kind of peace settle around his shoulders.

“Good point. Okay. Shower first, talking later.” She grabbed his hand and started pulling him into the living room, as bold as ever.

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

“No clue.”

But she dragged him along anyway. He took a moment to admire her bottom through the thin black pencil skirt. Knowing there was nothing beneath it made blood pool in his groin. Add to that the thigh-high stockings and baby heels she wore, and he was lost. He didn’t care where she led him. He’d follow.

She pulled him out of the living room and into the hallway.

“Which door?” she said.

“Second left.”

Her fingers were sweaty in his, but familiar and confident. She led him into the bathroom and let go of his hand. He closed the door behind him, and she pulled her silk shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her white bra was simple but soft; he knew from touching it a few moments before. A little red bow was sewn just between the swell of her breasts.

“Well?” she said as she moved her fingers behind her and unclasped her bra. It slipped down her arms as she lowered them, and she let it fall to the floor.

“I think I’ll enjoy the floor show first.”

She turned around and bent to take off her heels. He ran a hand over her offered posterior. She pulled off both heels and then slid her arms up under her skirt. She didn’t stand up, and he continued caressing her. She lifted first one foot and then the other to remove the thigh-high tights. Then she stood up, and he fought the urge to pout. Instead he busied himself undoing the zipper in the back of the skirt.

“I thought I was putting on a show?” she said over her shoulder.

“It’s an audience-participation kind of deal, ma’am.”

“Ah, of course.”

He slipped his hands between the tight fabric of the skirt and the smoothness of her skin, sliding his fingers down her legs. When he reached the floor, she stepped out of the circle of the skirt, and he kissed her left calf, then her right. He was curious about what she wanted to discuss, but he didn’t want to hurry this time. The moment he’d seen her, he’d been overcome with the need to have her. Consequences be damned.

He worked his fingers up her legs and pressed quickly between her thighs, teasing first her clit, then the edges of her slit.

She moaned at his attention, but he didn’t linger. He stood up and tossed his clothes aside. He shifted around her so he could reach the shower. After fiddling with the knobs, he offered her his hand and helped her into the stall. He followed her in and closed the door.

“Now I see why you said we would get absolutely no talking done in here,” she said as he brushed up against her.

There wasn’t too much room to move around, but he grabbed the soap from the low shelf on the wall and began lathering her body in suds. She squealed and moaned as loudly as she wanted as he teased and caressed her. When he was sure she was close, he sat down on the low shelf and lowered her onto his shaft.

“Oh, my,” she said as he stretched her folds. The water turned tepid, then cool as she rode him slowly. He reached to shut it off. “No, leave it,” she said. “It feels terrific.”

He smiled as she glided up and down. She was right. The cool water pelting his body mixed with the heat of her, rocketing him to the edge in a matter of moments. Her nipples turned to even harder peaks, and he took one into his mouth. When Amy cried out, he bit down and pinched the other nipple hard. Then she came, screaming and taking him with her a second later.

She slammed down on him one last time and banged her hand into the wall of the shower to keep steady. He hadn’t really appreciated until now how difficult it must have been for her all those times she’d come silently in his mom’s house.

She rested her head against his shoulder and kissed the side of his neck.

“I could sit here all night, but soon that water’s gonna be frigid,” she said. He slid his hands over her wet hair, and she stood up, using the wall of the shower to help keep her upright. She grabbed the soap from the floor and quickly ran it over her body. He had to turn from her, for fear of wanting her again. She took it as an invitation and smoothed her soapy hands down his back, over his backside, and to his legs. She washed him, and he turned. They stood under the spray for another minute, simply enjoying each other’s touch, and then she switched it off.

“If we don’t get out of here soon, we’re gonna freeze.”

He nodded and opened the door. Even the cooler air from outside the shower was cold enough to bring goose bumps to his skin. He snatched a towel off the shelf and wrapped Amy in it, then grabbed one for himself.

“Thanks,” she said as they dried themselves off. She bent to pick up her dirty clothes.

“Leave them. If you go walking around here in that skirt and no panties all night, I’m not going to be able to concentrate on whatever it is you want to talk about.”

“So it’s better if I’m naked?”

He laughed. “No. But I have two dressers and a closet full of clothes. We’ll find something for you to wear.”

She followed him out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. “I think that means you officially have more clothes than I do.” Her voice was light. Teasing. So unlike the formal tone she’d used when she said good-bye to him on Sunday. She’d been so closed off, so rigid. He didn’t want to see that side of her again. He loved her like this. Free, no-bullshit, no-holds-barred Amy.

That was the woman who had blindsided him in Hanson’s grocery store and the one he wanted to get to know even better. He pulled a pair of tight boxers, sweatpants, and a T-shirt from his drawers and handed them to her.

“Be right back,” he said and went into the bathroom to retrieve her bra. His shirt would be big on her, but it was thin, and it would hang on her bare breasts, showing him her nipples. He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself, and he needed to hear her out. Whatever else was coming around the corner, he had to focus on what she needed first.

When he got back in the bedroom, she was dressed, and the towel was wrapped around her hair. He held out the soft white bra. She raised her eyebrows.

“I can…um…” He couldn’t say it out loud. He was still a Southern boy at heart, and no matter how often he played with Amy, he didn’t think he could say something as embarrassing as that he couldn’t focus on her face when her nipples were showing.

She looked down and then licked her lips. “Ah, right. Nipping, am I?”

“Yes,” he said, grateful she saved him from saying it.

She took the bra from him. He rummaged around in his drawers for some comfortable clothes, and after putting on boxers, jogging pants, and a black T-shirt, he turned back around. She was fully covered and drying her hair with the towel.

“Better?” she said.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Now he just had to get her the hell out of his bedroom. She still looked too tempting in here. He led them out to the couch, and Amy grabbed her purse. She pulled her hair up off her neck and clipped it behind her head with the ease of many years of practice. She sat on the couch, so he sat on the chair opposite her, a safe distance away with the glass-topped coffee table between them.

“This is a great place,” she said, looking around. Her hands stilled in her lap. Was she nervous? His brain started thrumming again with all the possibilities she wanted to discuss. She had to just tell him. Put him out of his misery.

“Thanks,” he said. “So…what did you come here to do if it wasn’t to jump my bones?”

She smiled as he’d hoped she would, and her shoulders relaxed. “My dad’s miserable. You have to help me get them back together.”

He probably would have handled the news that she was pregnant better.

Oh, that had gone well. Mason sat across from her, as far as he could get while still sitting in the living room. His face would have been comical if it weren’t her dad’s happiness on the line. She knew she’d screwed up, and she would help fix Dad’s relationship with Martha as best she could. But she needed his help. No way could she do it on her own. She’d only screw it all up worse.

“Say something, will you? You’re the man with the plan, remember?”

He finally closed his mouth. “Mom was adamant about things being over. I believe her exact words were ‘It didn’t work out in college; I don’t know why in the hell we thought it would work this time.’ She’s not going to change her mind. Your dad made her swear. That never happens. Not ever.”

She got it; really she did. But it didn’t change the fact that her dad deserved the chance to make it up to Martha. “He took our side, you know. He defended me and you to your mom.”

“Yeah. I know. But she’ll never accept a relationship with him if she thinks we’re still sleeping together.”

She was prepared for this reaction and knew at least that much about Martha. Amy also knew what she’d have to do to give her dad a chance. She had to give Mason up.

“So then we won’t.”

No reaction. None whatsoever. Her stomach flipped. So he was either completely indifferent to them continuing whatever they’d started, or he was as confused and hurt by the idea as she was and wanted to hide that from her. She tried to pretend his reaction didn’t matter, but she knew better. She wanted to know their pseudorelationship was important to him, at least a little bit. If he were really indifferent, would he have thrown himself at her so forcefully after he’d gotten over the shock of her standing in his doorway? She hoped not.