Swoon (6 page)

“My dad knows?” He looked affronted.

“I wanted to tell you in person!” Lissa said. “I couldn’t surprise anyone else. They all knew as soon as I stopped drinking.”

We all started to laugh while she pouted.

“Well, congratulations, sweetheart,” Lawrence finally said. “I’m really happy for you guys. Good job, man.” He clapped Ethan’s shoulder and sat down next to me, speaking to me for the first time. “How are you?” he asked politely.

“Good, thanks.”

Nodding dismissively, he resumed catching up with Lissa, getting all sorts of girly details about her pregnancy and teasing her about almost being a pregnant teenager. He earned a napkin in the face for that. We all ordered some food, and I picked at mine, listening to everyone around me.

Ethan caught on to the strain between Lawrence and me and soon drew me into a conversation. We swapped funny stories about clients, and he had me rolling at the antics of some of the women at his barn and Lissa’s reactions. I wasn’t sure anyone else could handle all that with their sense of humor. I was grateful to him for pulling me out of my funk. But when he caught Lissa hiding a yawn behind her hand, he quickly excused them, adorably protective of her.

Left alone to finish our dinners, Lawrence and I were quiet, lost in our own thoughts. Finally I pushed my plate away and took a last swig of wine. I was stopped from standing by a hand on my thigh, scorching me through my jeans and causing my knees to weaken, so I fell back to my chair.

“Don’t go yet,” he said quietly without really looking at me.

“Why not?” I questioned. “What’s the point?”

“I…” He sighed heavily. “I don’t even know. I just don’t want you to go.”

I stood suddenly, stopping him from speaking with a raised hand. “I’m going to get another drink. You want one?”

His eyes met mine. “Scotch.”

I made my way to the bar to get us each a tumbler and returned quickly, sliding his glass in front of him. We sipped in continued silence laced with tension.

“It’s good to see you,” he finally said when our glasses were almost empty.

I took a deep breath and raised my eyebrows. “Really? Look, Lawry, I haven’t seen you in months since you left me cold. You’ve barely acknowledged me. Not just tonight, but for the past four months. I don’t care if you think it’s good to see me. I haven’t decided if I think it’s good to see you.”

He stood abruptly and grabbed my empty glass, wordlessly stalking to the bar for refills. I leaned back in my chair to watch him. He was normally so cheerful, his eyes always sparkling with mischief and humor. Charm. But none of that was there. It sort of scared me.

He returned my refreshed beverage to me, our hands brushing. I watched his long fingers with blunted nails alongside my slender ones tipped in burgundy polish. He didn’t move right away, and I had an opportunity to enjoy the contrast. Raising my eyes to his, I sipped my drink, the initial burn numbed by the quantity I’d consumed.

“Why did you leave?” I asked softly.

“I didn’t want to sleep with you.” He sat back in his chair.

I coughed on my scotch, now feeling the burn through my nose.

“Wow. That’s honest.” I set my glass down and grabbed a napkin to wipe my eyes.

The corner of his mouth rose in a smile. “I do want to sleep with you. But I didn’t want to then. Not like that.”

I shrugged. “Hey, no means no. I get it. You didn’t have to be a dick about it.”

He shook his head almost imperceptibly. “Look, I’m going to be honest. I’m not… casual about you. I think you know that. I can fuck around with anyone, but I don’t want to. I’ve done that plenty. And I won’t be a Paul to you. I won’t be a convenient person for you to segregate in your life. I’m sorry I crossed the line of friendship that night. I never should have kissed you. But I was leaving the next day, and I couldn’t go without… trying. Without… tasting you again.”

“I never intended for you to be a Paul.” I swigged back my drink, the alcohol loosening me up significantly. “I was turned on and you kissed me and I think we could have had a great time and still been friends. We’ve done it before.”

“That’s pretty much the definition of what you and Paul are. I don’t want to be your fuck buddy. And I don’t want to sleep with you while you’re doing somebody else.”

I threw up my hands. “Fine then. So let’s just let it all go and move on. Be my friend or don’t. Nothing happened anyway.” I tossed back the rest of my drink and stood quickly, steadying myself on the back of my chair while I swayed slightly.

“Nothing happened.” Lawrence nodded slowly, with his jaw clenching. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.” He stood and grabbed my elbow, and I pulled away.

“I don’t need you to walk me home. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, and I’m not leaving you alone.”

“You’re not fine either. You had more to drink than I did.”

“I’m twice your size. And I’m not driving. I’m staying at the inn down the road. I can walk.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay fine. Walk me home if it makes you feel better.” I tossed cash on the table for a tip and walked down the back hall without waiting for my escort. At the back door, I ran straight into Paul. Like, as in smack into his chest. I stumbled backward into another chest. Lawrence. His hands gripped my hips from behind, holding me in place, pulling me into him. Swoon. Gulp. Swulp?

“Hey, Paul,” I said brightly, blinking rapidly to clear my haze of scotch and Lawrence.

Paul leaned in and kissed my cheek, completely ignoring the towering hulk behind me. “Hi there. How are you?”

“I’m good. Just heading home. What are you up to?”

“Meeting a friend.” He winked at me, and I knew he had a date. Good for him.

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek as well, Lawrence’s grip barely loosening. “Okay, well, I’m heading home.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, concerned. “Do you need a ride?”

Lawrence finally spoke. “She’s fine. Good to see you, Paul.” They shook hands. “I’m going to walk her home now.”

Paul nodded and said his good-byes, disappearing into the crowd of the bar.

With a strong hand at the small of my back, Lawrence guided me out of the Tavern and into the gravel parking area, which was dimly lit by a single bulb. Our breaths created puffs of fog in the cold air. We turned together down the sidewalk and silently walked less than a mile to my little house. I swung open my unlocked front door and crossed over the threshold.

I mumbled a sarcastic “Thanks” over my shoulder as I used my foot to kick the door shut behind me. But it bounced back open with a thud as booted steps followed me in.

* * * *

Lawrence

Fuck no, she was not slamming the door in my face. Running into Paul had made me see red for no fucking reason, and I was pissed and turned on and fucking leaving tomorrow. Again.

I crossed through her door after it sprang back open on my foot. I grabbed her upper arm and spun her toward me. Her back fell against the wall, and I slid my fingers down to encircle her wrist. Slowly, I raised her arm above her head, reaching my foot out to kick the door shut. The fingers of my free hand dug into her hip, holding her still. Heavy breathing caused her chest to rise and fall, the low V neck of her sweater parting farther. I stared down intently, my eyes drifting between her eyes, her mouth, and her tits. I took my hand off her hip to raise her other arm above her head, leaving her vulnerable and exposed and at my mercy.

Lips parted, eyelids heavy, I could see how badly she wanted this to happen. Did I want it? Well, fuck yeah I did. But like this?

I decided that right now, it was either this or nothing. I didn’t want nothing. Now was not the time to act like a pussy and talk about my feelings.

The length of my body was pinning Steph’s against the wall; her arms were stretched high. At first her eyes were locked onto my chest, but as silence reigned, her eyes rose to mine, though her chin remained down.

“How drunk are you?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Just enough to make this work.”

I chuckled at her honesty. “I’m fine with that.”

My mouth crushed hers in an instant, tongues tangling, teeth clashing, arms still pinned overhead. Drawing a deep breath, I pulled back to spin her around, one hand keeping her arms above us. She complied easily as my other hand reached around her front to unbutton her jeans and shimmy them down. My body hardened at the sight of her round, toned ass, and I traced those curves religiously. She looked over her shoulder at me, and I rose on tiptoe to clamp my teeth on the side of her neck. Crying out softly, her knees buckled and my hand reached around to catch her.

I released her wrists, nudging them as a reminder to stay in place while I stripped the sweater off over her head, tossing it aside. She was left in only a red lace bra, because she hadn’t worn panties to begin with. Just as well. They would have been ripped to shreds anyway. My fingers flicked her bra open, baring her entire back to my gaze. Her arms fell to release the material, but then rose again above her head of their own volition. She was completely naked. I was completely clothed. She was waiting. I was ready.

My lips traced her neck, the floral scent of her hair invading my senses. I slowly lowered myself to my knees as I kissed my way down her spine and around her hips. Resting on my heels, I watched the graceful curve of her back while I quickly unbuttoned my shirt and let it fall off my shoulders. I stood to kick off my jeans and reached around her abdomen, pulling her tightly against me, sighing at the feel of skin on skin. My other hand reached up to caress her breasts, memorizing their weight and feel.

Steph looked over her shoulder at me, her lip caught between her teeth, lust filling her eyes. I leaned over and nipped at her lower lip, pulling it into my mouth and soothing the bite with my tongue. Her breath sighed into me as her body melted against the wall. With my hands on her hips and our mouths never separating, I spun her quickly, lifting her to straddle my waist. I blindly carried her to the bedroom where we fell to her ridiculous pink sheets in a tangle, laughing while I tried not to crush her.

Lying above her, I paused for a moment to brush the hair from her face. Our eyes met, and for a split second I saw tenderness in Steph’s eyes. As quickly as it was there, it was gone, and then she pulled my head down, tongue teasing mine, her legs tightening around my hips, urging me closer.

A sudden thought entered my mind. “Shit. Condom.” I racked my brain to think if I had any.

“Side table,” she panted out.

With a hand on my shoulder, legs never releasing me, she rolled us over so she was on top, then leaned toward a side drawer. Rifling around, she found a foil packet and ripped it open with refreshing enthusiasm. I watched her, my body on edge from holding myself back, while she scooted away to roll the condom on. But she surprised me by first leaning down and drawing her warm, wet tongue up my length before taking me fully in her mouth. Holy hell. I gripped the sheets in an effort to restrain myself, but before long, both hands were tangled in her curls, urging her on.

When I couldn’t take any more and figured I might actually die if I wasn’t inside her immediately, I gave a gentle tug on her hair. She released me with a pop and grinned wickedly at me, holding my eyes while she rolled the condom on. I smoothly flipped her on her back and trailed a finger up her inner thigh to between her legs, where I found her as hot and ready as I was.

Without further ceremony, I thrust into her hard, groaning as I sank in. Her back arched up and I slid a hand beneath her, tilting her hips to find the angle she needed. I continued to move in a slow rhythm, watching where our bodies met, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest, watching her eyelids scrunch shut and her lip, which was caught tightly between her teeth. Slowing the motion, I leaned down to feather kisses on her eyes, down to her cheeks, down her graceful neck. I traced her curves with my fingers until I reached her clit. My fingers worked her slowly at first, then gained speed along with my hips until she was writhing and panting. Her face was flushed and damp with perspiration, and she was either praying or calling me God. I rode her out until her body went rigid and she stopped breathing for a moment, then collapsed bonelessly. It was only then that I grabbed her hands, pinning them over her head and bracing my other hand on the headboard to let myself loose, pounding my release into her with a harsh growl.

We stayed like that for long seconds, my arm holding me above her, still wrought with tension while I regained my breath. I only relaxed when I felt her fingers trail up my ribs, tracing the outline of my tattoo. Wordlessly I pushed away and walked to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When I was finished, I climbed back into bed and wrapped my body around hers, pressing a kiss to her hair and inhaling deeply. I waited until her breathing turned slow and even before allowing myself to fall asleep.

* * * *

I woke with a start early the next morning, the empty space next to me leaving me cold. I heard Steph rifling around in the kitchen, so I pulled on my boxers and cautiously walked toward the noises. Something felt off.

We needed to talk. We’d done everything else with our mouths last night, and throughout the morning, except talk. Now the sun was rising and, with it, my uncertainty. If I felt uncertain, Steph was freaked the fuck out. I needed to exert some damage control.

She was facing away from me, standing at the counter and pouring herself a cup of coffee. She was wearing her tiny shorts with a big off-the-shoulder sweatshirt, baring her graceful neckline to my eyes, hair a mess on top of her head. I drank her in.

“Morning,” I said softly.

“Hey,” she responded too loudly, too cheerfully.

I walked up behind her, placing a hand on her hip and kissing the bare spot where her neck met her shoulder. At first I felt her sigh as her breath released, but then she stiffened.

She stepped beyond my reach and turned to face me, a fake smile on her face. “I have to get ready for work.”

“It’s Sunday.” I reached up for a mug and poured myself a cup of coffee.