Authors: Lucy Monroe
Tags: #Romance, #General, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Friendship
He grinned.
He was going to tease her about going to sleep on him whenever he gave her a climax, but in a very non-PC way, he was filled with masculine pride at the thought of wearing her out from a single session of lovemaking. The little darling had climaxed so hard, her body had lifted his off the bed.
At the mere thought of how she arched and convulsed when she came, his semierect cock hardened inside her. It would take no provocation at all to change that condition to full arousal. Despite having experienced the best sex he had ever known, the hunger he felt for her had not abated.
On the contrary, now that his body knew the pleasure of touching and being inside her, it craved more.
His thoughts brought him up short. Had it been even better sex than he’d had with Elena? Impossible. He’d loved her. Time must have dulled his perception of the pleasure he’d found in her arms. It was hard to believe it had been more than six years. The memories even felt like memories now, not a fresh reliving of too much pain.
But there was nothing dull about the images in his mind from the past hour. They and the piercing pleasure they elicited were sharp and edgy. They were also bigger than simple sexual release and pure physical enjoyment. He’d had plenty of both of those in the last six years, but this feeling of intimacy afterward was different.
And it bothered him.
Had she felt the same? What was he going to do if she started thinking she’d fallen in love with him? He didn’t want their friendship destroyed by expectations he could not meet.
The problem was, he would get over these feelings, just like he’d gotten over any tender feelings he’d felt toward other women since Elena’s death. Okay, so maybe he’d never felt quite like this, but that didn’t mean it had any better chance at lasting than the other feelings had. He wouldn’t let it.
He’d made a promise to himself and to the woman he had loved, though she had not been alive to hear it. He’d never been tempted to break that promise, but he was now. He didn’t want to see Claire hurt.
You’re a little late with that worry
, a cynical voice inside his head taunted him. Women were different from men. They got sex and emotions all tangled up, and what woman wouldn’t believe herself in love after sex that good?
His dick surged at the reminder, and satisfaction coursed through him despite the possible complications. Making love with Claire completely had been one for the record books. It had been so mind-blowing, he’d forgotten everything and he’d never done that—never been so oblivious to anything and everything but the feel of the woman in his arms.
He relived the sensation of her convulsing around him, of her inner flesh clamping his, and went iron hard inside of her. She moaned softly in her sleep and he groaned. A less scrupulous man would take advantage of the situation, especially with his memories of the way it had been only minutes before.
Exploding inside her scorching tightness had taken the top of his head off. His heat had added to hers and he had one of the longest orgasms of his life.
And then exactly what he
had
forgotten penetrated his consciousness and he went rigid above his sleeping lover.
Here he was, worrying like an adolescent with his first crush about
feelings
when he’d gone and done the unforgivable.
He’d forgotten the frigging condom.
How could he have been so stupid?
He’d remembered a glove every time he’d had sex since he was sixteen. Even when he and Elena had made love, he’d never once forgotten.
Cold chills washed over him as he berated himself for his stupidity. He had wanted to make it perfect for her and he couldn’t have screwed up more badly than if he’d planned it. His sperm were swimming in her private pool right now and one of the little suckers could already have scored.
Claire could be pregnant with his baby.
The possible consequence was a lot less jarring than the realization of his error. Despite what she seemed to think, Claire would make an incredible mother. And the thought of her round with his child was an even bigger turn-on than memories of their intimacy. He was a hair’s breadth from coming again and he hadn’t even moved.
He willed his hard-on into submission as he considered Claire’s reaction to his mistake. What if she
was
pregnant? She would not take possible single-motherhood in her stride.
Her life with her own mom had been too harsh.
And while she alone understood why, she doubted her abilities in that area. She’d questioned her suitability for motherhood as part of a parental unit; how much stronger would those insecurities be in the face of an accidental pregnancy? Understandably, she would want to give her baby the best of everything, including a whole family unit…a real home. Things he’d promised a dead woman he would never have.
Or had he? His promise to Elena had been that he would never love another woman like he had loved her.
In his mind that had meant he would never marry, never have kids. No woman would settle for his body without his heart.
But Claire had accepted him as her lover without protestations of love. Though he had to admit that in light of their circumstances, if she did equate incredible sex with that emotion, it might not be such a bad thing after all.
Her loving him could make it easier to do what he knew she would consider acting on the best alternative. But even if she didn’t love him, she would want to give the best to her baby. Her own heart’s involvement wouldn’t be as important to her as doing that. He was sure of it.
A band that had been tightening around his chest since Claire fell asleep in his arms loosened. He could keep his promise to Elena and still do the right thing by Claire. They could have a good life.
He was sure she’d see things the same way.
C
laire woke up to a slight throbbing between her legs and an unfamiliar inner sense of well-being that made her lips curl in pleasure before she opened her eyes. When she did, she discovered she was alone in a big bed. A deep sense of satiation and rightness permeated her as the late evening light of summer filtered through the lace curtains.
It was a beautiful room and the bed was deliciously comfortable. She stretched, luxuriating in the knowledge she had no more exams to study for, no job to go to. She could go back to sleep if she wanted to, or laze in the bed daydreaming until Brett came looking for her.
It was such a decadent feeling, lying naked in the oversized bed with no commitments pressing. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so free of encumbrances. So happy. She wasn’t sure she ever had.
She had spent years taking care of her mom both before and after the cancer struck. She’d gone straight to college after Noreen’s death, too…not taking even a full month off before trading one all-consuming workload for another one. She’d worked whatever hours were necessary to achieve her goals, both at school studying and at the jobs she took to support herself.
She had made love to Brett and, strangely enough, knowing there were no commitments for the future linked to it was peaceful rather than stressful. Before, when she’d had sex, the lack of reciprocal commitment had always hurt, but she didn’t owe anyone but herself anything right now.
And she liked that. Brett only wanted the pleasure of sex and she wanted that, too.
For once in her life she was going to do nothing but enjoy…for however long that lasted. She was not going to worry about the future or holding on to Brett when he was ready to let go. He’d told her what to expect and instead of lamenting it now that they had made love, a big part of her was wallowing in the knowledge that she hadn’t given more of herself away than she wanted to.
For the very simple reason that Brett had made it clear he didn’t want it. No future. No commitments.
Freedom.
What an awesome concept.
Contrarily, the knowledge she didn’t have to move made her want to. She wanted to see Brett, not to cling to him out of emotional neediness…but simply to be with him.
Only there was no sign of him in the room and no light coming from the bathroom. Nor did she hear anything from the outer room. Which did not mean he wasn’t in the suite. The man could be as silent as smoke when he wanted to be.
She scooted into a sitting position and winced at the slight ache in muscles used differently than they had been in a very long time. A shower was no doubt in order, but for a few brief seconds, she allowed herself to wallow with happy abandon in the fact that Brett had made love to her.
Thoroughly.
Passionately.
And beautifully.
He was a thrilling lover, completely wild with his carnality and capable of sparking the same reaction in her. No woman could ask for more in the man she chose to share her body with. She could still hear his shout of release echoing in her head.
Wow. If she’d ever known that sex could be so wonderful, she wouldn’t have dismissed it as unimportant in her life…that was for sure. But then, could it have been this life-altering with any other man?
Somehow, she didn’t think so.
Which was a slightly sobering thought. Was it complete freedom if she only experienced it with one man?
Dismissing the question as irrelevant in the face of more happy feelings than she’d ever experienced in one sitting, she climbed from the bed and spied a thick white hotel robe laying neatly across the bottom corner. She pulled it on and went looking for Brett, but he was nowhere in the suite.
A note on the dining table told her that he’d gone to pick up some necessary items for spending the night. She hoped one of the things he was getting was a canister of tea. She could really use some right now.
There was a silver teakettle on the stove and she wondered if maybe the suite came equipped for it. She searched the cupboards and found a fully equipped kitchen but no food. However, in the last cupboard she discovered a small basket filled with tea bags and enough coffee for two pots. Perfect. She put the water on to boil and took a shower while it was heating.
She washed her hair with the fragrant shampoo provided and then lathered her body, amazed at the way her skin tingled where she touched it. She’d never had these lingering effects from sex before. Not that she’d had sex all that many times, but her meager experience had been equally dismal in the pleasure department.
Her present feelings were really amazing. They’d made love almost three hours ago and she’d been asleep since…the fact that her body was still sensitized boggled her mind.
She went to wash herself. She was awfully sticky. She didn’t remember being this wet either, but the first time he’d made her climax, she’d woken up a lot stickier than when she’d had sex before too. There was even more moisture between her legs now and it was stickier.
Had he forgotten the condom? The whole experience had been so hot, so out of her frame of reference, she had never once thought of it. She didn’t remember him taking the time to put on protection, but she didn’t really remember how she’d gotten totally naked either. It had just happened.
Of course it hadn’t, but making love with him had been mind blowing…apparently literally. She could not imagine him being so irresponsible. It just wasn’t in character, but then maybe he’d been so turned on he’d lost track of reality too. Embarrassment washed over her at how much she liked that thought. But it would mean she was special to him, because she was positive he didn’t go around having unprotected sex.
She couldn’t even be sure he had this time.
The teakettle started whistling when she was drying off and she dashed toward the kitchen to shut off the burner as the door to the suite opened.
She stopped in her tracks and stared as Brett entered the suite carrying several bags.
His blue eyes were unreadable in a face too stoic for the aftermath of the kind of lovemaking they had enjoyed.
“Are you going to turn that off?”
Belatedly, she realized the teakettle was whistling shrilly now. “Oh…yes.”
She rushed over to turn off the burner and move the kettle to an already cool one. The whistle stopped immediately, leaving an odd silence between them. What was he thinking? Why did he look so serious? He had forgotten the condom. It was the only thing that could make him look like that, wasn’t it?
She certainly hoped so.
He dropped a couple of the bags he had in his hands on the kitchen counter and carried the others into the bedroom. She was still standing there, staring after him, trying to determine what to do or say next, when he came back.
“Were you trying to make tea?”
“Yes.”
“I bought some for you. The kind you like.”
“Thank you.” The words were stilted, the moment awkward.
She was practically naked, and he was acting as if they were polite strangers. As if they had not checked into this hotel for the express purpose of making love. As if they had not made love with near soul-destroying intensity. Why?
Was it the condom thing? Or was he now trying to act like it hadn’t happened because he wished it hadn’t?
“I’ll make the tea while you finish drying off from your shower.”
It was not the most loverlike of responses, but it was considerate, she reminded herself. “All right.”
He didn’t say anything else as she headed back to the bathroom.
She stopped at the door. “Brett?”
“Yeah, sugar?”
The endearment was encouraging.
“Do you regret doing what we did?”
“Making love?” he asked as if there could seriously be some doubt about what she was referring to.
She spun to face him. “Of course making love. What else did we do?”
“Well, we had lunch at a Chinese restaurant, flew kites on the beach, got them all tangled, and checked into a hotel to stay overnight.” If he didn’t sound so serious, she’d think he was teasing her.
“Why would you regret any of those things?” she asked, irritated he was making it so hard.
“I wouldn’t.”
“Then why bring them up?”
“Why bring up regret at all?”
Which did not answer her question and she was smart enough to see that. “Because I want to know.”
“If I regret making love to you?”
“Yes.”
His blue eyes bored into her. “It’s a waste of time to regret actions that cannot be changed.”
Her stomach cramped. “Are you saying you wish they could be?”
He was certainly
acting like
he regretted making love. Which meant he probably didn’t want to repeat the experience. A knot of pain formed inside her, a huge mockery of her newfound sense of freedom. She’d believed she could handle him moving on, but it had never crossed her mind he would want to do it so quickly.
Her heart cried out in denial.
“Go get dressed, Claire. And then we’ll talk.”
“Fine.”