Just Surrender... (18 page)

Had…

There…

She wanted to stay blasé, sophisticated and unmoved, but if at that moment, Tyler chose to explore the depths of her panties, he would discover how completely moved she currently was.

His hand slipped up her bare thigh…and then it slipped higher. She kept her eyes glued to the glass case, her heart about to explode, waiting for the second when his fingers would touch here…

There…

Her body quivered at the torturous contact, her muscles clenching, and his finger began to play her with rich, languid strokes.

This time, she moaned.

The steady movements were so small, so precise, but…

Hell.

If she were as sophisticated, unmoved as she wanted to be, her thighs would fall open a little wider.

Like so.

Another clever finger slid across her lips, stroking her like a cat, and she curled upward because he felt so good.

The sounds of the other couple filtered through the speakers, low moans, quiet sighs, and when Edie slid lower in her seat, a quiet sigh escaped from her lips. Everything was so dark, so private, and she closed her eyes, wanting to bask in the fires of sex.

Cool air hit her thighs, and she realized that her favorite black thong was probably now on the floor. She shifted to meet Tyler’s intense gaze, and the rest of the world slipped away. She wanted this. Him.

Now.

Purposefully, she climbed into his lap, her fingers at his fly, feeling the thick sex waiting for her.

Tyler didn’t press her, didn’t hurry her, merely watched her with those steady dark eyes. She freed his cock, slid her hands over the thick length and watched the drop of sweat beading on his forehead.

Not so unmoved, either.

Feeling more confident, Edie climbed fully into his lap and slipped her shirt over her head, baring her breasts. Another drop of sweat beaded at the sweet spot above his mouth. Delighted, she licked it away, and this time he groaned.

Her smile lasted a second before his mouth covered hers, devoured hers, and she could feel him between her thighs. Needing more, she moved one tiny inch, sighing into his mouth as he filled her.

This.

Sex wasn’t supposed to be like floating in the ocean. Sex was supposed to be dangerous, mysterious. A single inconsequential moment in time. A transient experience of two bodies filling a need.

But when he held her, when he kissed her, when he filled her, it was so heady, so warm, so tempting to lose herself in him.

Her hands pushed aside his neat white shirt and found warm skin, beating heart, and she wrapped her arms around the broad planes of his back, holding him there, fusing two bodies into one.

Hungrily his mouth grazed her neck, the stubble at his jaw abrading her skin, and she could hear the steady sounds of his breathing against her ear. His cock filled her, then relinquished her, because that was the way of sex.

Stay. Go.
Stay.

She didn’t want to anticipate those moments when he was with her, inside her, but her body did. It expected it. Craved it. Needed it. Even while her body was happily satisfying itself, her mind rebelled. There was no drama, no flash, only one man, one woman, and when his hand nudged her head into his shoulder, Edie reluctantly pressed her check again the warm, damp skin and let her body ride.

How long she stayed there, Edie didn’t know, but eventually her mind weakened and acquiesced. This pleasure was not the storm she wanted, but an easy current carrying her further out to sea. Tyler never wavered, the strong flex of his hips neither too fast nor too slow, filling her, releasing her as if there was all the time in the world.

In. Out. In. Out.

In.

Out.

In. In. In.

Her mouth sought his, locking her lips to his, and her tongue slipped inside, coyly playing, teasing, in and out, but his mouth trapped her, keeping her there, as if this was no game.

Reminding herself that this was a game, Edie lifted her body from his, relinquishing him, the lips of her sex brushing against his cock, teasing him, playing. Impatiently, she waited for his reaction, frustration, laughter, anger…anything but this. Tyler met her eyes, steady, constant, and she nearly screamed at him, anything to rock the boat, anything to lift the tide.

“Edie,” he whispered, devil-soft, and she knew what that word meant. It was an invitation. A temptation. A joining. Be. With. Me.

All around her, women responded to those words, were lured by the idea of them, and Edie had always judged them for their gullibility. For their weakness. The speakers in the room amplified the noise of others having sex, and Edie clung to those sounds, but the temptation in his eyes was louder, stronger, and eventually her eyes drifted closed, her sex closed over his cock as if it belonged and her cheek pressed against his shoulders, leaning, resting.

Weak.

Or screw up anything else.

The surgeries went well, he noticed Keating nodding in agreement during the presentation, and he had made tomorrow’s reservations for Edie’s surprise. Another step, and hopefully she wouldn’t be mad. Tyler could’ve asked for his brother’s advice but taking relationship advice from Austen was like taking medical advice from Dr. Death. Besides, for the past few days, Austen had been on at him to visit Brooke.

Their sister.

And now, Edie and Austen had joined forces. Both with their guilelessly innocent looks, as if he didn’t know what they were thinking. Unfortunately, Austen was getting to him, Edie was getting to him.

He could feel insidious doubts snaking through his cerebral cortex like a caduceus gone wrong.

Get it over with. Just do it.

He was being tag-teamed by Machiavellian manipulators and even knowing that, he wondered if he were wrong.

Wrong?

He was still purging that impossible thought from his head when he met Austen at a sports bar, where his brother was chatting up the waitress and betting against the Yankees.

Tyler joined him at the bar. “You know that’s a hanging offense up here.”

Austen took a long swallow of whiskey and sighed with deep appreciation. “Life’s too short to not stir the shit. So how much time am I slotted tonight?”

Tyler liked the sarcasm because words, even sarcastic ones were better than awkward silences. Edie told him families were often sarcastic, that it was a sign of affection. The way he saw it, sarcasm was good. “We’ve got ninety minutes. I don’t want to be late again. I’m trying to prove to her that all surgeons aren’t overworked automatons with no understanding of balanced, mutually supportive, male-female courtship rituals.”

“Good luck with that,” Austen said with a snicker. His gaze flickered back to the game, but it was an act. Austen knew how to set up his prey. “Why are you doing this? For her, or some never-ending quest to better yourself?”

“Both,” Tyler replied, and then corrected his answer because he liked the sound of the truth. “Her.”

Austen had never cared about success or approval. He was always comfortable in his own skin, but not Tyler. Tyler’s skin always felt one size too small, one stone too heavy.

Until Edie.

She never looked at him as if he needed to be more or do more. She made him reckless…and happy. He didn’t want to forget that happy part. It was important.

“Good for you, Ty. Carpe diem. Hakuna matuta, and all that other foreign stuff that tells people to have a good time because it isn’t a part of the American work ethic. Sucks.”

Tyler clinked his glass to Austen and they sat there in silence. Austen watched the baseball game, and Tyler studied the trading cards under the glass bar. He’d never played baseball, never did sports. If they had had somebody in the house other than Frank, maybe…

But they didn’t.

“I shouldn’t want to see Brooke.”

Austen turned and looked at him. “What if we take the train up to meet her, and everything turns out okay?”

“Because it doesn’t. You never rely on chance. You take charge of your decisions and when you’re ahead, you walk away. We’re ahead now, Austen. I turned out great, and you aren’t in prison. Life’s good. I should leave well enough alone.”

“Maybe it could be better. You’ve always wanted to be up here. You’re up here. Edie’s a total babe, ten times better than anyone you’ve ever been with before. You’re whipping Lockwood’s ass? Right?”

When Austen framed it like that, it did sound almost positive. “Maybe.”

“Go for it, Tyler. Take a shot. Take a chance. Throw the dice and see how the other half of our family actually lived. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

“The last time you had a good feeling, you burned down the shed.”

“It wasn’t so bad, even then.”

Tyler shook his head. “You’re going to make me do this?”

“Dude, nobody makes you do anything you don’t want to do. The fact that we’re even having this conversation means you know I’m right.”

“Maybe,” Tyler said, but then quickly changed the subject. “What are you looking for, Austen?”

“Nothing but net. A cushy job, good whiskey and a life of perpetual sex.”

“Don’t you ever want to be with someone?”

“It’s all about the journey, Tyler. It’s no fun without the games. Go find Edie. Get laid, bro. It’ll do you good.”

Tyler paid for the drinks and left the bar to go do just that, and for the moment, his sister was forgotten.

Work.

At the diner, Patience and Anita were on the floor, Stella was on the grill and Khandi was watching CNN in the back.

“Edie,” Anita called out to her.

“Got next month’s schedule,” Edie announced, pushing open the kitchen door and posting it on the crowded bulletin board, directly under the health notice, a defaced ad for a dating service and the data for next month’s book club.

“You have me working on Father’s Day?”

“No,” Edie told her, because she had covered all the requests, and wouldn’t have missed one from Anita.

“Be a doll and cover for me, will you? Big night at the club.”

“Father’s Day? Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Tips are awesome. You can cover, can’t you?”

Edie’s first instinct was to say yes because Anita needed her help, and when people needed her help, Edie always said yes, even when some times she experienced regrets later, which took some of the joy out of the “doing good” experience. However, she was also realizing that she didn’t want to necessarily spend all her free time covering shifts so that others could live their lives.

She had a life, she thought to herself. She had use for free time. She had limited free time. Her limited free time was becoming more valuable now, and as such, she needed to protect the resource. “Why don’t you switch with Wanda? She likes to work Sunday nights?”

Anita stared at her oddly, but then said, “Sure.”

As the hours passed by, Edie redid the menus, helped Wanda study for her history exam, debated with her mother about the wisdom of buying a Father’s Day gift for the man who has everything and dodged questions about one currently absent Dr. Tyler Hart.

Finally, the sun came up, Ira dragged himself in for the morning shift, the food deliveries were all put away. When she arrived back at her place, Edie set the alarm for 1:00 p.m. and crawled into bed.

Alone.

Screw déjà vu.