Confessions of the World's Oldest Shotgun Bride (11 page)

“Maybe I should bring out a couple of bowls...”

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. “No. Straight from the carton—that’s how we do it.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight. She felt the bulge in his khakis. “You look tense. Did you have a tough week at work?”

“Not so tough. Long, though. My payback for taking time off.” She snuggled her head against his chest. God, his pecs felt amazing. He smelled good, too, though she didn’t detect any cologne—just soap and man. She ought to throw him out, but she was too wildly, insanely happy to see him.

He tangled his fingers in her hair. “I’m sure you earned that vacation. You shouldn’t feel you deserve to be punished because you had a good time.”

“The work doesn’t stop coming in just because I’m gone. That’s not punishment, that’s life.”

He rested his cheek against the side of her head. “I wish you had more fun in your life.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “My life is good. I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”

“Pity’s not even on my radar screen.” The huskiness in his voice signaled molten desire. She held her breath, waiting for him to kiss her. Instead, he released her and picked up the pint container of ice cream and a spoon. Loading the spoon with ice cream, he slid an arm around her shoulders and brought the utensil to her lips. “Open up.”

She started to part her lips, but he flicked the spoon, landing a glob of ice cream on the side of her mouth. His eyes shimmered with mischief and heat. “Oh no, I’ve made a mess. I need to clean it up.” He leaned forward and sucked on her lower lip.

Oh. My. God. He didn’t want to eat the ice cream—he wanted to eat her. They were about to enact her human sundae fantasy, one of few left on her Boy Toy To-Do List. The wave of lust that hit her was so strong she could barely breathe.

She shot him a look she hoped was hot enough to melt the ice cream. “You are so dead.” She scooped some ice cream from the container and spread it over his mouth and cheek. Pushing him into the cushions, she pressed her body against his, hard. “Need to clean that up.” She ran her tongue across his cheek, then his upper lip, then his lower lip, teasing him.

He slid his hands under her sweatshirt and up her back. “I love it when you don’t wear a bra.”

She silenced him with a kiss, grinding her pelvis against him to ease the tension between her legs as their tongues tangled. He had to be the world’s greatest kisser, and if he wasn’t, she didn’t want to run into the man who was better. Her heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

He skimmed his hands to the sides of her breasts. The tingle at her core accelerated to a throb. He pulled off her sweatshirt, tossing it across the room. Then, giving her his most intimate smile, he dug another handful of ice cream from the carton and slapped it on her left nipple. The combination of the cold ice cream and his warm hand made her shiver. He lowered his head and licked, flicking the inflamed nub with his tongue.

The movement triggered a wave of pure desire in Kathryn’s core. “Oh, please,” she moaned, pulling his head tighter against her chest. She didn’t want a teasing touch, she wanted all-out sucking.

But he pulled back. “Slow down, Katie.”

“I don’t do slow. I like getting right to the point.”

“The point is for me to give you the most possible pleasure, however long that takes.” Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a squeeze bottle of chocolate syrup. Her lips parted slightly in surprise as he drizzled the sweet liquid over her breasts. Yup, she was a chocolate sundae all right. He brought his mouth to her nipple and resumed suckling. He didn’t stop sucking and licking the swollen bud until he’d lapped up all traces of the syrup, real and imaginary. By then she was in a total frenzy as her hormones raged like a teenager’s.

She gathered enough of her wits to slide her hand under his sweater and attack his shirt buttons. “Time for payback.”

“Bring it on, baby.” He pulled the sweater off in a blur while she continued to work on the shirt.

When the last button gave way, she pushed the shirt aside and explored his muscles with her fingertips. Grabbing a handful of ice cream, she smeared it in a line from his Adam’s apple, down his chest and six pack abs, to just above the waistband of his khakis. The cold made his abs quiver. She followed the trail of ice cream with her mouth, alternately licking, sucking and kissing, until she reached his pants. Then she undid the snap and zipper and stuck her hand inside. She grabbed his cock in her fist and breathed out sharply as he swelled even larger. “Are you ready now?” she asked. As if the answer weren’t obvious.

His grin was lopsided. “Yeah. You win. Slow is overrated.”

After Steve pulled a condom from his pocket, they made short work of the remaining clothing. He lay on his back and she knelt over him, her juices squishing as she slid onto his gloriously erect shaft. They moved together in an ever increasing spiral of speed and sensation, his idea of taking it slow thankfully banished. He slid a thumb to her core to help her along and she closed her eyes, her mind void of everything but the urgent desire for satisfaction.

His voice pierced her concentration, rough with lust and something else she chose not to identify. “Look at me, Katie.”

She opened her eyes and his gaze met hers, making love to her soul. Holding his gaze as though hypnotized, she hovered on the edge for several agonizing moments, then with a piercing scream, plunged over.

Afterwards, she clung to him, her arms around his neck and her head resting on his chest, enjoying the aftershocks that wracked her body. He stroked her hair and murmured in her ear, “Oh yes, baby, yes. I meant to go slower, but you are so hot.”

She shifted so she could see his face and gave him a shy smile. “It’s not me, it’s you. When you touch me, I spontaneously combust. No more Ice Queen. You turn me into a whole new person.”

“No. That’s the real you. You’ve worked so hard to prove you’re not human, you’ve even convinced yourself. But I know better. You’re all woman.”

“With you I am. You make me happy, Steve Tyler. You’re a lot of fun.”

“We’re doing more than having fun. How can you even think of getting rid of me and depriving yourself of feeling this way?”

She ran her hand across his pecs. “Not to mention depriving you.”

“Yeah, that too.” He put his arms around her waist and hugged her. “We’re so right together. Why do you keep fighting me?”

“For your own good.”

“Sorry, but you don’t get to decide what’s good for me.”

“I’m serious. Don’t let your hormones or your pride get you into something you’ll regret.”

“I could never be sorry about being with you. Don’t you get it, Katie? I love you.”

Oh, hell. She pushed him away. “What?”

“Your heard me. I love you.”

A wave of panic made her stomach roil. “Don’t go there.”

“I wasn’t planning to. I know you aren’t ready to hear it. But it feels wrong to keep anything from you. I love you. I’ve loved you all my life. That’s a fact, so deal with it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ooh, how romantic.”

His arms, wrapped around her, tensed. “I’m serious. I want to be more than your boy toy. I won’t let you kick me to the curb just because we get to the end of your freaking To-Do List.”

She felt heat creep up her cheeks. “How did you know about the list?”

“You dropped it in my hotel room.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Look, I have no problem with the list. I like knowing what you want. Happy to be of service. But I want more than sex.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying that.”

“I can hardly believe it myself.”

She brushed a couple of fingers across his cheek. “What we have is good. Why change it? Relationships get messy when people start talking about love. And not the good, ice cream kind of messy, either.”

He buried his nose in her hair. “All right, I’ll drop the subject—for now. But not saying I love you won’t stop it from being true.”

Damn, it was official. She’d totally lost control of this situation.

Kathryn closed her menu and handed it to the waitress. She and Amanda were having Sunday brunch at a window table in their favorite restaurant. “I’ll have the French toast with hazelnuts, a glass of orange juice, and coffee.”

Amanda did a double take. “What, you’re not having the eggs Benedict? You always have the eggs Benedict.”

“I do not.”

“Do too. You get a menu, and you read every item, and then you order the same damned thing every time—eggs Benedict, a mimosa and coffee. I don’t know why you bother with the menu.”

“They might put something new on it, or I might decide I’m in the mood for something else. Like today, I’m trying something different.”

Amanda stared at her face with an expression Kathryn couldn’t read. “You’re trying something different with Steve too.”

“I guess I am. Uncomplicated sex. No drama and no angst. Just laughter and a lot of red hot orgasms. At the rate we’re going, it won’t be long before I’ll have to write a second To-Do List. If I’d known how happy he’d make me, I wouldn’t have waited so long to find myself a boy toy.”

Amanda didn’t laugh. “You should be nicer to him.”

Kathryn leered. “Honey, you would not believe how nice I am to that boy.”

“I’m serious. I’m sure you give him great sex, but you should show him a little respect too.”

“I do respect him. He’s a good man. He’s kind and he’s considerate. I just don’t see any reason to take us seriously, when chances are he won’t be around for long. One of us will come to our senses.” Kathryn frowned. “Why do you care how I treat him? You don’t even know him.”

“I know his aura is righteous. Plus I know and care about you, and I know he’s going to be part of your life for a long time.”

“What are you talking about?”

Amanda looked at her hands for a moment, then returned her gaze to Kathryn. “I’m not sure you want to hear this.”

Understanding dawned. “Oh good grief. Don’t tell me you’ve had another of your goofy psychic visions.”

Amanda’s face reddened. “You shouldn’t make fun of things you don’t understand.”

Kathryn reached across the table and touched Amanda’s hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but you know I have trouble buying all this stuff about crystals and signs and visions. Now maybe if you had visions about something practical, like what’s going to happen in the stock market...”

No laugh from Amanda. Okay, so it wasn’t the world’s funniest joke, but it should at least have rated a small smile. It wasn’t like Kathryn’s friend to be so serious. “Out with it. What has you so worried?”

“You didn’t order a mimosa. You always order a mimosa.”

“Just like I always order eggs Benedict. We’ve already established that I’m thinking outside the box today. It’s no big deal. My stomach’s still a little off, so I thought it would be better to avoid alcohol.”

“And your ass is still dragging.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling a little run down, but I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

“That depends on what you mean by serious.”

Kathryn was about out of patience. “Amanda, will you please get to the point?”

“Well, when I started getting these feelings about your health, at first I couldn’t figure out what they meant. Then I remembered the last time I had this sensation.” She paused and took a deep breath. “It was when my brother’s wife got pregnant.”

Kathryn’s mouth gaped open. “You can’t be suggesting I’m pregnant.”

“I can, and you are. I’m sure of it. I’m sorry.”

Kathryn laughed. “Girlfriend, you’ve come up with some wild-ass stuff before, but this is classic. This time you’ve really gone around the bend. There’s no way in hell I’m pregnant. It’s impossible.”

“Why is it impossible? You’ve had sex recently, haven’t you?”

Kathryn grinned. “Oh yeah, I’ve had sex, all right. Great sex. Amazing sex. Awesome sex. Over and over again.” She shook her head. “Sorry, that’s not the point. The point is—we used condoms. Every single time. You can’t think I’d sleep with a major hottie, who’s been with God knows how many women, without using protection. You know me better than that.”

“Condoms don’t always work. They can break, or they can come off, especially if a couple is being rather...” she cleared her throat, “athletic. Condoms aren’t foolproof.”

“Nothing is foolproof, because fools are so ingenious. But I’m not a fool, or a careless teenager.”

“Would you mind all that much if you were pregnant? You’re not getting any younger. You don’t want to wait too long.”

“There’s no point speculating, because I’m telling you, you’re wrong.”

Amanda spoke hesitantly. “Do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Humor me. Until you get your period, don’t do anything that would be bad for the baby. No booze, no drugs...”

“You know I don’t do drugs.”

“I’m not talking about recreational drugs, I’m talking about painkillers and antacids. And cut back on the caffeine...”

“Cut down on coffee? Are you insane?”

“It’s for the baby.”

“The baby that’s a figment of your imagination.”

“Please. If you won’t do it for the baby, do it for me.”

“For you?” Kathryn took in the anxious look on Amanda’s face. “Oh hell, why not. It’s only for a few days anyway. My period’s due on Saturday.”

“Thanks. I’ll feel much better.”

“Hey, I have an idea. If you’re so sure about this off the wall notion of yours, how about putting your money where your mouth is?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“A little wager. I’ll bet you a bottle of twenty-one-year-old scotch I’m not knocked up.”

Amanda frowned. “This is your child we’re talking about. We shouldn’t be making bets like it’s a football game.”

Kathryn stuck her fingers in her armpits, flapped her arms like a chicken, and made clucking sounds.

Amanda rested her chin in her hand and examined Kathryn’s face for a moment. “On second thought, maybe this is a good idea, if it will make you face reality. You need to start getting prenatal care. That’s important at your age.”

“Jesus, will you cut it out with the freaking cracks about my age? What I need is for you to realize you’re wrong, so you’ll stop fussing and making us both crazy. How about this? If I haven’t gotten my period by next Sunday, we’ll get together and I’ll take a home test.”