Unsuitable Men (12 page)

He held out as long as he could. Brendan had been waiting for almost three weeks for her to give him a sign that she was ready for him and still wasn’t sure whether he was reading her correctly. She undressed in front of him, but Brendan wondered and even worried that she thought of him as a brother more than anything else. If so, it was his dumb-ass fault. You didn’t let a woman, especially not a woman like Tracy, into your bed and give her the impression she could sleep in panties and a flimsy top with impunity.

But he had, and then once it had gone on for a time, it was tough to maneuver his way back to reminding her that he was one hundred percent a man, and could not have boobs pressed against him all night without wanting to slip her the high hard one. So he’d been strategizing, trying to think of a way to re-introduce sex into the equation with her.

In all fairness though, he hadn’t been thinking about sex this whole time; he liked being with her, talking and laughing with her, watching television and making occasional grocery runs. It actually kind of scared him how much he’d liked doing all that stuff, none of which had anything to do with getting into her panties.

Still, he had already decided that today was going to be the day, and then Shawn had called. Going to see a newborn when you weren’t ready for kids of your own should have been a surefire way to shut down his libido, and at first it had been. But then he saw the way Tracy reacted, and something inside Brendan had shifted. Her joyfulness for Shawn and Riley had been completely selfless and the look of instant love for their new little person had been unmistakable. It was as though he’d witnessed her expand the reaches of her heart right there in front of him.

Looking at Shawn and Riley’s little man, Tracy’s face seemed to say,
You
too. I welcome you into my heart, too.

For the first time since he’d known her, she was consumed by something that had absolutely nothing to do with her. And yet she was happier and more excited than he had ever seen her before.
Brendan watched her and he wondered whether she realized this about herself; that she had a hidden generosity of spirit. He wanted to tell her that he saw it, that he saw her. But she would probably have been embarrassed and may even have closed herself off again, and made one of her signature glib comments. And of course, there was also the possibility that she had been this generous and open and loving all along, but that he was the one who had misjudged her, believing her to be selfish and self-centered when she was anything but.

So he said nothing, and watched it unfold, and thought about how he had only begun to scratch the surface of the love she was capable of. He wanted to see more. And that was why he broke his promise to himself not to initiate. Because he couldn’t help it. He wanted to see more of Tracy as she had been in that hospital room and since.

When he kissed her, she put her hands up right away, and he thought at first that she might try to push him back, but instead she gripped his shirt and held on for dear life as though she had been waiting for just
this
moment.

Brendan lowered himself over her and continued his slow, sensual exploration, moving from her lips to her neck, moving his hands over the smooth, snug fabric of her yoga top. He could feel her moan in the back of her throat as his fingers brushed her nipples and she pressed against his hand, encouraging him. Though he wanted nothing more to have her naked, soon, he forced himself to go slow. There could be no ambiguity in their coming together. She knew he wanted her; she would have to show him unequivocally that she wanted him too.

Soon enough, she did. Tracy gripped the back of his shirt and pulled it up, tugging it impatiently over his head and then practically lurching for his chest. Brendan remembered this about her; she was demanding and assertive in bed, and would leave no room for error to get what she wanted. Now, she held on to his forearms and hoisted herself up to reach his nipples, tonguing and licking them, testing his resolve to take things slow. If he went purely on instinct right now, he would grab those goddamn yoga pants at the
waist,
rip them off and pile-drive the crap out of her.

Tracy raised her head even further and without warning bit him on the traps, just above his shoulder.

“What are you waiting for?” she breathed.

Brendan’s eyes flew open at the combination of pain from the bite, and excitement at the urgency in her voice. He slid her yoga pants off with her underwear and reached down to touch her, to make sure she was ready. She was. So much so, he almost couldn’t help but feel cocky. So to speak. Her knees parted, almost as if in relief at his touch and he slid a finger inside her and then another, unable to stifle the sound from his throat when her inner muscles gripped it, almost pulling them in.

Tracy sighed and Brendan moved his mouth back to hers. She put one hand at the back of his neck, using her weight to pull him down to her, all the time her hips undulated against his fingers. He added yet another and she moaned into his mouth, rolling her pelvis against his hand even faster. Just when he thought he would literally explode if he didn’t get inside her Tracy pulled back and kissed him against the corner of his mouth.

“I hate it when you make me wait,” she said, and her voice was low and husky and sexy as all get out.

She pushed against his chest until he realized what she wanted and lay on his back. Tracy straddled him, her thighs locked just above his pelvis, some of her weight on her knees. Brendan could feel her wetness against his stomach. Keeping her eyes fixed on his, Tracy reached behind her with both hands and slid his sweats down, just enough to free his erection. With remarkable balance, she kept her position on his stomach but stroked him with both hands, running her hands up and down his length.
All the
she kept her eyes locked to his, and though he wanted to close them because it felt
that damn good
, Brendan found that he couldn’t.

The sight of Tracy sitting astride him, beautiful, magnificent, nipples erect, back arched and focused only on pleasuring him was a sight he would be a damn fool to pass up. It was so fucking
erotic,
he found it impossible to maintain a coherent thought except for one word:
more
.

Then Tracy was moving his hips back and forth, sliding herself against the line of soft and coarse hair on his stomach. Brendan could feel her heat and as her breath quickened so too did the motion of her hips and hands. Deciding that it was his turn to take charge once again, Brendan grabbed her by the hips and lifted her, rearing forward to impale her on him. But one word, breathed urgently stopped him.

“Condom,” she said.

Brendan paused.
Shit
.

He had forgotten all about that.
Forgotten
. Something he never did. The last time he’d gone raw was with Tracy herself in L.A., what now seemed like dog-years ago.

“Oh my god,” she groaned misreading his face. “Don’t tell me you don’t have any.”

Brendan laughed softly. “No, I do. Medicine cabinet.”

Tracy moved so quickly, if he blinked he might have missed her. “Don’t you
fucking
move,” she said.

Brendan smiled. She only ever used that word when she was in the act, he now realized.

Momentarily she returned with a row of condoms. Six to be exact. Brendan raised his eyebrows as she resumed her position astride his hips.

“Damn. You must think a lot of me if you believe I can live up to those expectations,” he grinned.

“Brendan,” she said leaning forward to slip her tongue in his mouth and then, smiling against his lips. “I think you just need to apply yourself.”

Ah.
Humor
. The hallmark of his and Tracy’s relationship, if that’s what they had. Well, he was going to make sure she had nothing more to laugh about. Brendan grabbed the condoms from her and ripped one open, sitting up while she wrapped her arms about him. He pulled it on and in one quick motion pulled her backward, burying himself inside her. Tracy’s mouth fell open and her eyes shut. Brendan didn’t move for a long while, just watching the expressions that crossed her face and feeling himself inside her was enough.

Once again, he managed to wait her out. It was Tracy who took the initiative, placing her hands on his shoulders and pressing down on them, using them as leverage to raise and lower herself against him in a squatting motion. Brendan leaned back, propping himself up with his elbows, letting her take charge of her own pleasure, feeling
himself
enveloped by her.

“You’re making me lazy,” he said. Even getting the words out was hard, she felt so fucking good.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Tracy breathed. “Just . . . stay like just that.”

Something about that made him alert once again. Brendan fought his way back from the delicious distraction of being enveloped in Tracy’s warmth and watched her for a moment more, her eyes closed, moving against him. She was
masturbating.
He was just the human dildo she was getting off on.

Was this what she was used to? Using men to get off, not seeing them, and not caring if they saw her?

The thought was depressing and he could feel himself getting marginally softer. It explained something. The night of the Two-Twelve launch, the guy who scared her. Suddenly Brendan understood. Some men would not stand for being disappeared this way. Their egos, their very sense of their own manhood, could not stand for it and they would find another way to assert that manhood. Like maybe aggression.

“Tracy,” he said, firmly. “
Stop
.”

“What?” she breathed, her voice
impatient,
still engrossed in her own pleasure. “
Why
?”

She moved faster, trying to reach completion. Brendan sat upright and held her by the hips, stilling her.

“Open your eyes,” he said.

It made sense now that she only used the word ‘fucking’. That’s all this was to her. Maybe all it had ever been. He wondered whether—as beautiful as she was—Tracy had ever had a man make love to her. She opened her eyes, almost unwillingly and looked at him, confused.

Brendan’s intention was to tell her his theory, to ask her what happened the night of the launch, just to confirm his suspicions. But when he looked into her eyes he was almost certain that she didn’t know why whatever happened to her had happened. This kind of sex was probably all she had ever known.

A woman who looked the way she did, he could imagine got lots of offers; and most men who got her into bed were probably so damn happy to be there they used her to live out their porn movie fantasies. With sexual experiences like that, would it be any wonder that she would learn to take her own pleasure, just as they seized theirs?

So instead of talking about what she hadn’t gotten from men before, Brendan decided he would be the one to give it to her. Make love to her the way she deserved to be loved.

“Brendan?” she said. Her voice sounded almost apprehensive, and she looked worried.

About what
? Did she think he was upset with her? That she wasn’t pleasing him?
What was going on inside that head of hers?

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He tried to smile to reassure her, and gently raised her, pulling her off him. She looked alarmed, as though convinced now for certain that she had messed up somehow.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart,” he said kissing her softly on the corner of her mouth. “I just want to go slow. Okay?”

She looked surprised at his use of the endearment. He said it because she
was
sweet, even if she didn’t know it. Then her expression changed from surprised to puzzled for a moment, and then apprehensive once again. Almost like it was her first time. Brendan felt something inside his chest clench painfully.

“Let’s just go slow,” he said again.

“Okay,” she said after a long while.

He stroked the side of her face and pulled her to him, holding her for a long time.

Brendan knew he was going to get in trouble with this woman and now he had.
Big
trouble. He could chalk it up to the emotional morning with Riley’s baby being born and Tracy being so affected by it, but in his heart of hearts he knew that wasn’t it. After his epiphany about her sex life, he’d just held her, nothing more, until he felt her stir against him, growing excited just from being held. He wanted her to know that it was possible, that there was arousal to be found in tenderness as well.

Then he’d kissed her, resisting when she immediately wanted to touch him, or have him touch her. Just kissing, with her nakedness against him, was difficult but he did it, for as long as it took for her to stop going for his package and just be in the moment. When finally he touched her, he didn’t let her reciprocate, not for awhile. He lay her on her back and ran the tips of his fingers over every part of her—face, shoulders, arms, breasts, hips, thighs—every part of her except the part that she tried desperately to get him to touch. The puzzlement never left her eyes and Brendan realized with wonder that she really hadn’t had anyone do this for her before. It seemed inconceivable when he would have happily done only that for hours on end.