Darker Water (23 page)

I took it from her, peeked inside—“Damn,
we’ll definitely cross a few things off the list with these”—and
pulled her towards the bedroom. “Let’s go celebrate art.”

Lane still had the key I’d given her. She
just refused to use it. I opened the door for her and then went
right back to work.

“Can’t do it, Lane. Whatever it is. Unless
it’s you and it’s a quickie.” I’d been preoccupied and occupied and
probably post-occupied if I knew what that was, and I was supposed
to meet a board member from the foundation later who’d hinted he
wanted to step down. Problem was, he also happened to be the CEO of
one of our largest sponsors. If he was out, he might take his
company’s money out with him. My job was now to convince him how
lucky we were to have him without too much groveling.

After a few minutes Lane peeked her head into
my office. “Did I leave my sunglasses here yesterday?”

“Yeah,” I said, not looking up from my
laptop. “I put them in your drawer.”

“My what?” Her voice was sharp, surprised,
and I realized how that might be misconstrued.

“The drawer you fixed.” I slowly turned my
chair around so I could see her. “I wasn’t using it, and since you
occasionally leave your crap around here, I figured I’d shove it
all in one place. But since it’s making you uncomfortable and
that’s making
me
uncomfortable, I’ll leave your shit
wherever I find it from now on.” I waited for her to respond,
somehow knowing this was one of those moments that could
potentially fuck everything up. Over a drawer and a pair of
sunglasses.

She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure how I
feel about that.”

“It’s just a little bit of space people make
too big a deal about. You didn’t freak out when you started keeping
a toothbrush over here.”

“That’s because you always jump on me as soon
as I open my eyes—or earlier than that—and it seemed like a better
alternative than morning breath.”

“There’s nothing that needs subtitles here,
Lane. The drawer is a drawer and you can use it for drawer-type
activities. Or not. Up to you.”

“It just surprised me, that’s all.” She went
into my bedroom and came back with her sunglasses. “I’m gonna leave
the other stuff in there for now.”

“It’s your drawer and your stuff. Do whatever
you want with it.” I stood. “Are you gonna stick around, too?”

“Can’t. I have to work. I’ll call you later
if I have time.”

If she had time. Fuck. I felt her pull away,
which meant she was thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking.
Dangerous things that, if they weren’t dealt with now, would get
bigger and more toxic.

“Come here,” I said.

“I have to go to work.”

“Come here.”

She sighed and came over, stopping a couple
feet away. I grabbed her waist and pulled her the rest of the
way.

“Things changed in thirty seconds because of
a drawer. Can you explain that to me, please?”

“It’s normally a big step in a relationship,
and we don’t have that kind of relationship. I needed a minute to
remember that.”

I tipped her chin up. “I love what we’re
doing. I like you a lot. I don’t want what happened between you and
your frogs to happen between you and me. So…” I didn’t want to say
it. “If we need to cool it for a while until you can remember what
this is, that’s okay. Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You’re just afraid to say it.
Don’t be afraid of me, Lane. I would never deliberately do anything
to hurt you, but if you don’t tell me what’s going on, it might
happen accidentally.”

“I don’t want to cool down.” She smiled. “I
want things to stay hot.”

Hallelujah. “Do you really need to work?”
Like I did.

“I guess I could stay a little longer.” How
the hell did she keep getting more beautiful? That wasn’t possible,
but somehow she was doing it.

“Listen,” I said, “I would put superglue on
every single drawer I have to make sure things didn’t change
between us. Okay?”

She nodded. “Do you ever think we spend too
much time together?”

“Constantly. But do I care? Not at all.”

“How much time do you spend working?”

“Depends on what events are coming up, the
season, shit like that.” Fall was always insanely busy though—still
nice outside but around the time companies start thinking about tax
write-offs. “Why?”

“By my figuring, hanging out with me is like
a part-time job—twenty hours a week, at least. And that’s not
counting sleeping time.”

“What about
waking-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-and-screwing-around time?”

“I didn’t count that, either.” She blushed.
“So when do you see your other friends?”

“Huh.” I didn’t. Initially, I’d stayed away
from them because most of what we did together was drink and try to
get laid. The drinking I could handle now, but the women? I didn’t
need to pick anyone up when I had the world’s most perfect woman in
my bed almost every night and—

Oh shit. “Yeah, I can see how that might be a
problem. Maybe I’ll go out tonight. I haven’t done anything with a
guy for a while.
Aaand
that came out totally wrong. I
meant—”

“I know what you meant,” she said,
laughing.

“Good. Because the plan doesn’t include sex
with a friend or a stranger until tomorrow when you come over.”
Damn it. I wished I didn’t feel the need to tell her that. “Then my
plan is to get one of my friends naked and horny. Guess which
one.”

“I have absolutely no idea who you’d subject
yourself to. But maybe you should walk through each step now, to
make sure it will work tomorrow.” She wrapped her arms around my
shoulders and went up on her toes.

So I kissed her. Lightly. For now. “We’re
talking about the naked and horny part, right?”

“Right.”

“If only I had a friend around here to try it
out on. Hey, wait a second!
You’re
my friend. Think you
could help me out?” When she jumped, I caught her under her ass and
took her into the bedroom.

“I guess I could try. If you really need the
help.”

“Oh yeah, I really need it.” I laid her down
on the bed and started to pull her jeans down while she fought with
her shirt. It was halfway off, covering most of her face, showing
off her breasts. When we met, I’d told her a woman should love her
body at least as much as I do. Completely untrue—she couldn’t
possibly love hers more than I did.

It was so easy to forget about everything
outside this room, outside of her. As soon as I’d shaken her out of
her jeans, I moved my hands to her hips, then to her waist, then to
those gorgeous breasts. I pulled the cup of her bra down so I could
get my tongue on her while I helped her take her shirt all the way
off.

“So far, so good,” she said. “Now all you
have to do is get me totally naked.” As soon as I pulled her
panties off, she wrapped her legs around my hips and pulled me down
on top of her. “I’m glad I can help.”

“Me, too. Because I really, really need it.”
Just like I really, really needed to keep my lips on her skin as I
slid down her body.

“Carson?” She tapped me on the shoulder while
I focused on her belly button.

“Uh huh?” I’d never taken the time to truly
appreciate how sexy a woman’s belly button was. When I kissed it,
part of my lip went into the little dip, got me closer to her.
Great things, belly bu—

“Carson?” She grabbed my hair and pulled
until I looked her in the eyes. “I don’t mean to be weird, and it’s
fine either way, but did you mean it about other women not being on
the menu tonight?”

“What?” It took a second for her words to
sink in. “Oh, yeah. No women. There’s only so much a man can take.
Now, can I get back to what I was doing?”

When she let go of my hair, I forgot all
about her belly button and went straight to a part I liked even
more.

I wish I had three hands. One would hold her
still and keep her hips down, the second would stop her thighs from
squeezing the shit out of my head when she’s close to coming, and
the third would get to join in with my mouth to do the fun
parts.

As soon as I put my tongue on her, her legs
flopped open and her hips pressed up. My beautiful bedmate gets a
little impatient when I go down on her. She wants me to make her
come right away, and that is exactly why it’s so much more
enjoyable to take my time. Getting her really close and then
backing off a few times frustrates the crap out of her but it also
makes her orgasm stronger. Even better than
that
, it makes
her want to have another, preferably with me deep inside her. But I
wasn’t in a hurry.

“I want your cock
now
, Carson.”

Fuck it. I’ll take my time tomorrow.

Obsessed with the idea that Hillary was right
about Carson and me spending too much time together, I’d been
working with an unofficial schedule. No more than three nights at
his place. I chose three because it was the most I could do and
still be able to say I was spending less than half the week
there.

I’d stuck to it, more or less. But no city is
truly safe and they’re all more dangerous at night, so after it got
dark, I couldn’t leave. It was for my own safety. And that was the
only reason. Kind of.

Okay, fine. It was a lame excuse, but sex
makes me sleepy. Plus, I liked Carson’s bed and while he was a
terrible pillow, he was a very good blanket.

Oh shit. I was getting too comfortable.

That’s why I was
almost
happy he was
going out with his friends—his
other
friends, the male ones.
Before I left his place, he assured me, without provocation, that
he was going to get drunk but not falling-down drunk, possibly get
another tattoo, and probably do something that might land him in
jail. But women weren’t on the menu. I wished that didn’t mean as
much to me as it did.

Hillary and Eric were off doing something
boring together, so I had the apartment all to myself. Not that I
was doing anything exciting. Most of the evening was spent
wondering what I
should
do for the evening.

It’s not as if I’d never been alone. In fact,
after breaking up with Kevin, I liked going solo. I’d been part of
a couple pretty steadily from fifteen until a few months ago,
always having to consider another person’s feelings or opinions.
Now I wasn’t part of a couple and didn’t have to worry about those
things, but I had someone’s body to use whenever I wanted. Except
tonight.

So, while Carson was out getting drunk, I
fell asleep wondering where he was and how much fun he was having.
When I woke up in the morning feeling refreshed, I smiled, knowing
he was at his place right now, nursing a hell of a hangover.

I got coffee and bagel sandwiches and headed
over to wake his ass up and talk really loudly. Fortunately, he’d
never asked for his key back and I’d never offered to give it back,
so I could let myself in and make sure he truly enjoyed his
hangover. He was going to be so pissed—I couldn’t wait.

When I opened the door to his building, I
jerked to a stop. Anna did the same thing. “Morning.” And wasn’t
she looking smug this morning? More so than usual, anyway.

“I’m so glad to see you, Laney. I’m supposed
to meet someone in twenty minutes, but can we talk a sec?”

I was always on edge when I was around her,
but the sticky, feigned sweetness in her voice made the edge that
much thinner.

“About what?”

Anna leaned against the wall, her head tipped
in fake sympathy. “I think it’s time you moved on.”

“Excuse me?”

“Carson doesn’t do long term.” Her tone was
one she might use with a child…that she didn’t like.

“Yeah, I know.” If my hands weren’t full, I
would’ve crossed my arms over my chest.

“Then why are you still hanging around?”

“We’re fine, Anna. Thanks for your concern.”
I didn’t have any siblings, but Anna’s animosity didn’t seem
normal. What was she so afraid of?

“Carson has a short attention span when it
comes to women. It’s even shorter with women he has nothing in
common with.”

I lost it—Anna didn’t know anything about me
or what I had in common with Carson. Because Anna had never
bothered to do anything but be a bitch.

“What the hell is your problem? You’ve
treated me like trash from the second we met.” Carson hadn’t told
me much about her, but it wasn’t hard to pick up things from what
he didn’t say. Anna had problems—financial, personal, emotional.
So, yeah, I felt bad for her. But no one was forcing her to be a
bitch.

“Whatever your holding a grudge about,” I
said, “I didn’t do it.”

“I’m just trying to stop you from getting
hurt—woman to woman.” Yeah, right. “Believe me, I know how it feels
to have the guy I’m with move on to other people.”

“That’s”—the word stuck in my throat but it
was a lot better than any of the other ones I could’ve used—“nice
of you. And when that happens—”

“It’s already happened.”

All sound stopped. “What?”

“What do you think Carson was doing last
night?”

I didn’t respond because Anna needed to mind
her own business and stand down. After taking a deep breath and
lowering my shoulders, I went around her and headed for the
elevator, grinding my teeth instead of speaking. Unfortunately, I
didn’t do anything to slow my heartbeat.

“He told you he went out with friends, right?
Friends. You’re his
friend
aren’t you, Laney? Carson has
always been really good at making friends. But I don’t think the
friend he made last night will last long—his friends never do.” She
gasped dramatically. “Oh! I didn’t mean you. I’m sure you’re the
exception.”

I smacked the elevator call button over and
over, refusing to think of how close it emulated the shaking of my
body. I should take the stairs, anything to get away from Anna. But
I couldn’t. It was a moment of flashback—the same heat in my chest,
tension in my shoulders. It was all coming back, as if the last six
months hadn’t existed, as if none of my wounds had healed at
all.