Intimate (9 page)

He grunted out
some sort of an answer.

Obviously
recognizing his discomfort, she backed away with a little smile that she tried
to hide from him. “All right. No more emotional stuff. Do you want to watch a
movie or something?”

They settled on
the couch until the food arrived, but they waited until after they ate before
they started the movie.

Caleb was
pretty sure neither of them really paid attention to it. He was too distracted
and unsettled, and Marissa was exhausted and sad. Without even waiting for her
to ask, he lifted his arm, offering to let her cuddle up beside him.

He knew the
physical contact gave her comfort. Even though it was so uncomfortable for him.

He draped his
arm around her, feeling the strange ache return to his belly and chest.

How had this
gotten so complicated? How had simple lust confused and disturbed him to such
an extent? He’d felt hints of these aches before—during all the years they’d
been friends—but never so deeply, never so consistently.

Marissa’s body
had been cold and shaking to begin with, but gradually it grew warmer as she
snuggled up beside him. After an hour or so, she began to shift restlessly. At
her request, they adjusted their positions, until they were both stretched out
on the couch. The most unnerving thing was that he wasn’t aroused. Even though
she was essentially lying on top of him.

His body had
reacted but not in the predictable way. Instead, he was starting to feel rather
sick. Trapped.

Marissa
eventually fell asleep, but this only made things worse. In sleep, she was more
pliant, more clingy. Her body pressed into his snugly, as if it instinctively
recognized that his body would match it, soothe it, protect it.

Caleb missed
the innate simplicity of lust. Lust might be overwhelming, but it was so much
easier than whatever this was he was experiencing. He couldn't feel anything
except Marissa's body, couldn't think of anything but her. If he'd been
aroused, he would have understood it. But this…

Of its own
accord, his hand started to move. Brushing gently against her hair. He’d never
felt like this until recently. Never felt compelled to touch a woman in a way
that wasn’t sexual.

His heart
jumped when she made a noise in her sleep and moved restlessly, but she only
ended up pressing against him more closely.

The movie
concluded, and he stared at the menu screen that appeared when it ended.

Caleb had no
idea how long he stared at it. If he’d gotten up to turn it off or to find
something to watch on TV, then he would have had to disturb Marissa. And she
was sleeping so soundly now that he hated to wake her up.

By this time,
his hand had moved down to her hip, and he stroked it idly, unconsciously.

All his life,
his priority had been to be free.

This wasn’t
free.

But there was also
no way he could let her go.

And so
pondering this paradox, Caleb lay on Marissa’s couch for hours, his hand slowly
stroking over her hair, her side, her hip, her back.

Until he
finally fell asleep beside her.

On waking, the first thing Marissa
felt was strange.

Then she felt
deliciously warm and cozy.

Then she also
felt stiff and rather cramped.

Then she felt
strange again.

Then she
realized someone was spooning her from behind.

Then she was
astonished that Caleb had actually fallen asleep with her.

She knew it was
him, even though she was barely awake. She knew it intuitively—it just
felt
like him—even before she recognized his familiar scent and the gray fabric of
the sleeve.

The sleeve was
on the arm she was hugging tightly to her chest.

It took her a
minute to remember what had happened. She’d fallen asleep during the movie last
night, and he’d been letting her snuggle against him.

Her falling asleep
wasn’t all that unusual, but he’d never stayed the whole night before. Always
before, he’d woken her up before he left.

She’d never
actually seen him sleeping.

Not that she
could really see him now. All she could see was the arm he had draped around
her. He was definitely sleeping, though. He was far too relaxed to be awake,
and his breathing was slow and deep.

Gradually
growing more and more coherent, Marissa became conscious of a few more realities.
She really needed to pee, but she was too warm and languid to even think about
moving yet.

Then she felt
strange again. Finally recognized why.

There was a
hard bulge pressing against her butt.

At the
realization of what this meant, Marissa flushed deeply, hotly.

It was normal.
Normal
.
She tried to convince herself of this fact. Caleb was asleep. Guys got
erections all the time while they slept. It was perfectly innocuous. Perfectly
normal.

Not really
about sex at all.

But it was
not
normal for Marissa to have an erection pushing into her butt.

She drew away
from him automatically, but there wasn’t much room on the couch as it was. At
her movement, Caleb tightened his arm and unconsciously pulled her back against
him.

Damn it. This
was mortifying. And it was making her feel nauseated—the way she always felt
when confronted with something sexual without warning, without having time to
mentally prepare and raise her defenses.

Marissa really
didn’t want to think about Caleb being hard. She knew it was just a physical
reaction that had happened as he slept—it had nothing to do with her—but still…

It was
her
butt he was pushing it into.

She had to get
up, before Caleb awoke. Sickening anxiety flooded her chest. If he woke up,
this would be real, and something would have entered their relationship that
had never existed before.

Something she
couldn’t handle.

Getting
desperate, Marissa eased his arm off her and rolled away before he could pull
her back.

Of course, she
rolled right onto the floor, but she scrambled back up quietly. Caleb stirred
restlessly, but his eyes were still closed, and his breathing evened out again.

Marissa ran for
the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Went to splash some water on her
face and then stare at herself in the mirror.

What was wrong
with her? She was an adult. She shouldn’t get so upset and unsettled by
something as normal and natural as an erection. On Caleb. On her couch. Against
her butt.

She shuddered
and dried her face.

She still felt
hot and kind of sick, so she turned on the shower and stepped under the water.
She didn’t usually like to jump right in the shower after she woke
up—especially not before her coffee—but today there were extenuating
circumstances.

And she needed
to get the feel of sex off her.

It was really
too bad. She’d been so cozy and comfortable snuggled up against him, and he’d
been so sweet last night.

Even the
slightest hints of sex had the power to mess things up.

That brought
back memories she simply refused to dwell on—memories of dirty, demeaning
things she’d heard, even with the pillow over her head—so she ruthlessly forced
them back into the safe, dark corner of her mind.

After she’d
showered and dressed, she felt more like herself and came back out to the
living room. She’d expected for Caleb to have awakened, but he was still
sleeping.

Marissa watched
him for a minute. He probably hadn’t slept much this week—he’d been wrapped up
in his music, evidently. Poor thing was probably exhausted.

He looked
younger and more vulnerable sleeping. His features were relaxed, and he looked
almost like a little boy.

She’d known the
little boy—too sharp, too talented, too fiercely intense. A godling, she’d
called him.

Then the boy
had turned into this man.

An unexpected
tenderness grew deep in her belly, and she was hit with an irrational desire to
stroke his handsome face, his messy hair, his broad shoulders.

Needless to
say, she didn’t act on it.

She smiled
fondly at him—her best friend for so long—but she kept her eyes carefully away
from the lower part of his body.

After making
her way into the kitchen, she started putting on a pot of coffee. The smell
would probably awaken him in a few minutes. She puttered around while the
coffee brewed—putting up the dishes from last night—then went back to see if Caleb
was still asleep.

This time, as
she stood watching him, he opened his eyes and saw her.

“Hey,” she said
cheerfully. She wondered if he was crabby first thing in the morning.

He grunted out
some sort of answer.

“Rise and
shine,” she announced gleefully—just to see his reaction.

Caleb growled
at her.

Laughing
helplessly, she started to tease him some more, but then she saw a brief,
trapped look pass over his face.

He controlled
his expression immediately, but she knew exactly what that look meant. His
physical condition must not have altered since she’d felt it against her butt.

“The coffee
should be ready,” she said casually, turning to walk out of the room. “You can
take a shower if you want to. I’ve already taken mine.”

Giving him some
space and privacy, she hid in the kitchen until she heard the bathroom door
shut and the shower turn on.

Then she let
out a breath of relief.

*
* *

“Caleb, are you still practicing?”

Marissa called out
the words after she knocked, unlocked his apartment, and walked in.

She jerked to a
halt at what she saw.

Caleb was
evidently done with practicing. He was sitting on a leather chair in his living
room.

But he wasn’t
alone.

Another man—a
handsome, dark-haired man who appeared several years older—was seated on the
couch. And they were both looking at documents in matching file folders.

Marissa had
apparently interrupted something.

At her abrupt
entrance, both of them jerked their heads up, looking startled. Almost
secretive.

“Sorry,” she
said in a rush, giving Caleb an apologetic look. “I thought you’d be alone. I
didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” he
said quickly, covering his initial expression. She'd seen his face and read it
correctly, though—he clearly would prefer that she wasn’t here. “You didn’t
interrupt anything important.”

Marissa stood
awkwardly. From the mood in the room, she
had
interrupted something
important. “Oh,” she said stupidly.

She glanced
over at the other man. He was one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. She
recognized him immediately.

Baron James.
The sax player from the jazz club.

He was looking
back at her boldly, and his eyes were of the dark, smoldering variety.

Caleb didn’t
appear to be happy about making the introductions, but at this point he had no
other choice. “Marissa Dalton, Baron James.”

She walked over
and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said with a smile. ”We heard you
play the other night. You were amazing.”

Baron’s hand
was warm and strong, and he didn’t appear to be in a hurry to release hers. “That’s
always nice to hear.”

His voice was
huskier than she’d expected, and the gaze he gave her was hot and admiring and
moved slowly from her head to her toes.

Although she
had to fight the urge to cross her arms over her breasts—which suddenly felt
naked—Marissa knew how to handle this kind of thing. She was diverted, however,
by the effect of Baron’s leering on Caleb.

He was
immediately bristling and defensive, and he scowled angrily at the man who was
apparently the brother of a friend.

It seemed an
extreme reaction to one flirtatious look, but maybe Baron was some kind of
player and Caleb was feeling particularly protective today.

After last
night, that wouldn’t be surprising.

Turning back to
Baron, Marissa shot him an ironic look. “You need to work on your technique
some more. You’ve got the dark, brooding thing down pat, but the leering is a
little crass.”

Caleb choked on
a burst of laughter, and Baron looked momentarily taken aback.

Pleased with
herself, Marissa beamed at Caleb, and she was briefly dazed by the warm grin he
gave her in response.

What the hell
was going on with him lately? Last night he’d been sweet and tender. This
morning he’d been quiet and awkward—which she attributed to his discomfort with
the intimacy of last night.

But now
suddenly he was unusually friendly and affectionate again.

His atypical
behavior was quite distracting, but it didn’t distract her enough to miss the
open file folder on the coffee table. The one they'd been looking at when she
came in. She leaned over casually, trying to catch a glimpse of what was in it.

Just when she
was close enough to read words on the top sheet of paper, Caleb closed the file
firmly, giving her an annoyed look.

And there he went
with the mood swings again.

Baron had been
watching this bit of byplay with amusement. He cleared his throat to regain her
attention. “So you and Caleb are…”

“Just friends,”
she finished for him, turning to smile at Caleb again and surprising an
irritated expression on his face. What had she done to piss him off now?

“Good,” Baron
murmured, giving her another of his smoldering looks. “If Caleb had a prior
claim on you, of course, I’d step back. But if you’re just friends…” His gaze
finished the statement for him.

Caleb shot Baron
an icy look. “You have so little chance with her that I almost pity you.”

Marissa frowned.
“Excuse me. I don’t need you to speak for me.”

Making a
dismissive gesture with his hands, Caleb said, “Just trying to help. Go right
ahead and speak for yourself.”

Baron now
seemed to be hiding a smile, but he managed to summon up another leer in Marissa’s
direction. She now suspected he was doing it just to annoy Caleb.

And it was
definitely working.

“I thought you
were going to respond to the crude insinuation,” Caleb prompted.

“I am.” She
turned to Baron and tried to keep her lips from wobbling. “You have so little
chance with me that I almost pity you.”

Baron grinned
predatorily, and even Marissa—who no longer indulged such feelings—felt something
very faint clench between her legs in response to it. “I’ll take that as a
challenge.”

Marissa definitely
felt sorry for any weak-willed women who encountered this man. Good thing her
sex-drive no longer affected her decisions, or she might be in very big trouble
herself.

Caleb moved. It
was so subtle that she couldn’t really figure out the specific steps, but he
somehow rearranged their positions so that he was blocking her view of Baron.

He looked like
he wanted to hit someone.

Baron, she
assumed.

They must be
something close to friends because Baron sure knew how to push Caleb’s buttons.

She’d never
seen anyone rile Caleb up so easily. No one but her.

“Did you just
stop by to say hi?” he asked, effectively closing Baron out of the
conversation.

“Yeah.” She
took a step closer to him. He was dressed casually in jeans and an old t-shirt,
worn so thin it was soft. Ridiculously, she wanted to pet it. “And—” She
stopped abruptly and glanced over at Baron, who watched the two of them with
amused curiosity.

Caleb shifted a
bit more, until his back was to Baron. He gazed down at her fondly. “And what?”

Marissa forgot
all about Baron’s presence in the room and suddenly felt all mushy again. It
was strange to feel this way about Caleb. Although she’d loved him for years, her
feelings about him had always been tempered with a good dose of irony.

But it was nice
that they seemed so close right now.

Giving in to
the ridiculous urge, she stood on her toes and pressed a soft kiss on the side
of his jaw. Just like she had last night. “I wanted to thank you for last night.”
She kept her voice hushed and then slid her hand down his sleeve so she could
touch his t-shirt. His arm was hard beneath the thin fabric.

The affection
was still visible in his eyes, but his body suddenly grew tenser. Assuming she
was pushing her luck with the sentiment, she took a step back.

Caleb shrugged—almost
shyly. “You’re welcome. I'm sorry it took me so long to get there.” Then he
seemed to remember that Baron was in the room. “I’ve got some stuff to discuss
with him, but it doesn’t have to be right now. Did you need me for anything?”

And the
meltiness was back in full force. “No. I’ll let you guys get back at it. I’ll
call you tomorrow.”

She turned to
leave, but Caleb stopped her before she took two steps. “Do you have plans for
dinner tomorrow? There’s that new Italian restaurant you wanted to try, the one
with the old-fashioned dance floor.”