French Roast (22 page)
Authors: Ava Miles
Tags: #romance, #contemporary, #small town, #New Adult, #foodie romance
“Move with me,” he murmured and sank out and then in, letting her adjust to the motion, the penetration.
Soon she was mindless. Passion flooded her, making her lock her legs around his waist. He took over, sinking deep inside her, his thrusts powerful and consuming. Her hands slid off his sweaty back to grab his hair.
He groaned when she tugged, his body pounding into hers, opening her up even more. With a thrust she was sure pierced her wide, she peaked again, shaking against him as he lunged deep. Teeth bared, he groaned as he came, hips jerking.
When he folded onto her, his face pressed into her neck, she sank into the pleasure, awash on a wave of pink light. She drifted out to the shore she’d discovered with him before.
In her haze, she listened to his heart, his breath. Savored their connection. The beauty made her eyes tear. Hope—as fragile and precious as a soap bubble—rose within her.
He didn’t move for some moments. Simply held her.
Then he rolled to his side and slid out of her. When he left the bed, she curled a hand under her cheek and reached for the sheet without opening her eyes. The pink light receded. Surely he was coming back.
His body eased against her before she knew it. His hands pulled her close and adjusted her to him. She caressed his chest. God,
finally,
was all she could think.
They’d gotten through it.
Hell, more than through it.
Up it, under it, over it…
Over the river and through the woods
started playing in her head. She stopped when she got to grandmother’s house. She was so not thinking about that now.
She gave a breathy sigh with a hint of sound—from now on she’d think of it as the love-me sigh.
“Happy?” he murmured, kissing the top of her head.
“Uh-huh.” Real words couldn’t be uttered yet. It felt incredible to float on pleasure’s waves. Better than espresso in the morning after an all-nighter. Better than the first ski on the first snow of winter…
“Me too.”
They stayed that way for a long time, quiet, bodies cooling. Jill continued to stroke him when the mood struck her, and he did the same for her.
She realized it was the longest they’d gone without talking in ages. It was perfect.
When she was sure her eyes could finally open without a forklift, she let them flicker on the new scene. Naked. Brian’s fingers dancing across her stomach. The sheet tucked around his waist. All that golden skin calling out for her touch. Candles sputtering. She took a deep breath, inhaling musk and sweat and aromatherapy.
She wanted to raise her hands to the ceiling and belt out a
Hallelujah,
but it seemed sacrilegious. She decided she didn’t care, so she settled for something else.
“Finally!”
His throaty chuckle rumbled near her ear. “Exactly.” He tipped her chin up. “Do I even need to ask?”
The smile simply burst from her, seeing his mussed hair, puffy lips. “What?”
“Whether you enjoyed it?”
They looked at each other, grinning like loons. She couldn’t do anything else. He couldn’t seem to either. It was like they’d sniffed glue or something.
“We
so
need to do it again—just to make sure it wasn’t a one-time deal.”
He snorted. “What about last time?”
Shadows danced on the walls of her mind. Pleasure, yes, but more. Irresponsibility. Fear. Heartache. She shoved it all in a box, trying to stay in this perfect moment.
“That was insanity. Hot insanity,” she corrected when his eyes narrowed. “This was…”
“The perfect epilogue to sausage and hiccups?”
“Don’t remind me,” she pouted, giving him a light punch.
“Maybe we can manage a meal now that the pressure’s out of the way. I’m starving.” He kissed her on the mouth and rolled out of bed.
She watched him move to her closet. God, he had a fantastic butt. Hell, the whole back of him was pretty incredible.
“Turn around,” she called, starting to enjoy herself. Jillian Marie Hale had herself a lover. Hah! “I want to see if the front’s as good as the back.”
His laugh snorted out. “You just want to see my sausage.”
She threw a pillow at him. “Well, your sausages are going to be cold. Do you want me to heat them back up for you?”
He turned around and stole her breath, completely calling her out on her own request. When he raised a brow, she smirked.
“Yep, it’s as good as the back.”
“I’m glad you think so.” When he pulled out a navy terrycloth robe from her closet, she had a moment of disorientation. She looked closer, seeing more of his clothes next to her own. As she scanned the room, she realized there were other signs of him. A pair of boots. His wallet on her dresser. He really had moved in. It was kinda weird.
“You’re not thinking about my sausage anymore,” he commented, drawing her attention.
His eyes held hers as he shrugged on his robe. She could all but hear him telling her to take a minute. Get used to him being in her space. Calm down.
Clearly sex had only heightened their ability to read each other.
“So, when you reheat the sausages, do you recommend a nice hotdog bun or cutting them into itty, bitty pieces?” She made the motions with her hands.
He belted the robe. “Well, then… I’d suggest the bun.”
Were they even talking about eating anymore? “Fine, then go warm them up for us.” She waited for him to move. When he leaned against the wall, she narrowed her eyes.
“If you think I’m walking out of here without seeing
you
walk over here buck naked, you’re crazy. I’ve been fantasizing about this for years.”
Her belly jumped. “You truly are a sick man.”
“Yep.” He held out her robe. “You can have it if you come to papa.”
“I’ll kick you to the moon if you say that again.” She fingered the sheet. “I’m not ready for this.”
“I just kissed about every inch of you… Well, I might have missed a few spots I’ll have to take care of later.”
Her thighs contracted.
“This is part of it. Jump in the deep end, Red. Strut your stuff.”
Shoulders back, she drew herself out of bed, her posture as elegant as a swan’s. His gaze flicked down her body in one sweep. Plucking her robe from his hands was easy. He was almost drooling.
“Are you going to go heat those sausages or what?” she asked, belting it.
“It’s already heated,” he announced, pulling her back to the bed. “I’m hungry for something else, after all.”
When he crushed his mouth to hers, she flung her arms out.
This was what it felt like to be ravished, to not care if you ate anything other than lust and sex for days. She was happy to be on the Sex Starvation Diet.
At last!
Jillian Marie Hale had arrived.
Chapter 29
J
ill jerked in bed when the alarm blared
All Night Long
. God, she was tired. She reached blindly to stop the assault. Encountered flesh. Shrieked.
“Jesus,” Brian muttered, shoving his pillow over his face. “You really know how to wake up in the morning.”
Memories flashed through her blurry mind. Sweat, skin, tangled sheets,
the spoon
—and a relaxation even yoga couldn’t equal.
They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. It had been like some crazed sex orgy for two minus that goat-satyr guy with the flute. Years of wanting had turned into hours of unimpeded passion and release.
Dammit, she wanted to call in sick today. If it weren’t for Mac, she’d cuddle up to Brian right now, waking him up in a way she’d only dreamed about. Mouth, hands, tongue. God, she was hot already.
The sheet twisted around his waist, so she took a minute to admire him. Man, oh man, yards of tantalizing skin and muscles. And he was finally hers. She reached out a hand and ran it down his chest and then snuggled up to him, fitting herself against his body.
“Good morning,” she drawled, knowing happiness was helping her wake up faster than usual.
“You chuckle snore.” He slung an arm around her waist without cracking his eyes open. “Kinda cute.”
“I was exhausted.” God, she’d snored? Wasn’t that the guy’s prerogative?
His stubble scratched her when she leaned in for a long kiss. She refused to think about morning breath. They both had it. Deal with it.
“Don’t go. You’ve barely had three hours of shut eye.”
Nuzzling his neck, she firmed her shoulders so she wouldn’t give into the desire to fit her skin to his. “Lots to do.”
“I want to have morning sex with you,” he murmured.
“You’re still half asleep.” Inner delight made her want to do a cartwheel. Morning sex. Yeah! Another check.
He pulled their hips together and undulated. “Not all of me.”
Her insides melted, and she was pretty sure her toes curled. Her damn work ethic made her look at the clock. It would have to be a quickie. Did she really want to settle for that?
Hell, yeah. She launched herself at him.
She was sore. He was slow, all sleep-eyed and languid, his body warm and relaxed as he guided her to the peak and found his own.
She wanted to wallow in the afterglow, but she forced herself out of bed instead. She had a reputation to uphold. Mac didn’t strike her as someone who liked waiting. Plus, what would she tell him? Saying she’d gotten banged until she was too sore to move didn’t exactly count as an excuse.
She sang in the shower. Got ready in record time. When she cracked the door, steam billowing out, Brian wasn’t in bed.
Bacon’s enchanting scent drew her to the kitchen. He’d pulled on a pair of boxers and was flipping thick-slab bacon onto a paper towel. Talk about a dangerous outfit.
She wrapped her arms around his middle. “You
never
get up this early. And you’re cooking for me?”
“Never say I don’t treat you right,” he replied, scooping the bacon inside toasted French bread from last night. He flipped a sizzling egg on top and dotted it with cheddar cheese. “Thought you might need to eat on the run.”
She kissed his back again and simply savored the moment. Great sex all night. Morning sex. And now breakfast. Who said the morning after sucked? “I could get used to this.”
“Yeah, I don’t think either one of us is worried about this being a hardship.”
“I could have picked something up at my shop.”
“I know,” he simply replied. “I wanted to feed you.” He gave her a quick kiss. “I like feeding you. Now, you’d better get going before I decide to delay you further.”
Her mouth dropped open, her gaze flying to his crotch. “Again? What are you? A machine?”
He chuckled and pointed to the door. “So it seems. Go.”
“You got inspired by the left-over sausages, didn’t you?” She gave him one fast kiss. Ruffled his hair for measure. “See ya later.”
Wishing she could share her new sex glory, she talked to Jemma in the car on the way to work. Told her all the details like she would have shared if her friend were still alive. By the time she arrived at the coffee shop, she needed to wipe the tears from her eyes.
Her morning with Mac went like clock-work. They planned and plotted. He made calls. She made calls. They huddled. When they were a few minutes shy of heading to a meeting, Meredith walked into Don’t Soy with Me.
She exchanged greetings with a few locals, but moved with purpose toward Jill. “Hey there,” she called, leaning down for a hug. “You’re a hard woman to track down these days.”
The dig turned up guilt’s clingy roots. Why did family always know how to give you the thumbscrews treatment?
“I’ve been busy with my new boss,” she replied. “Meredith, meet Mac Maven. Mac, this is my sister, Meredith Hale.”
“It’s good to meet you,” Meredith said, shaking his hand. “Tanner said he enjoyed talking to you. Of course, we’re all grateful for the help you gave Peggy and Keith.”
“I‘m just glad I was there.”
“I heard both of you were over at Peggy’s yesterday.” Meredith’s gaze simply screamed questions about that visit. “She’s feeling a bit better today, and we’re hoping she’s on the mend. Keith is coming to our place after school. This virus has her wiped.”
Jill glanced at her watch again, hoping Meredith would take the hint. “Yeah, made me want to wear one of those masks you always see in Tokyo. We have a meeting with Kim Ploy. Since it’s our first lunch with a city council member, we don’t want to be late.”
Meredith smiled, her mouth a flat line. “I understand. This won’t take long. Excuse us.” She grabbed Jill’s arm and all but dragged her to the back.
“Hey,” Jill protested, but she knew what this was about.
The move.
“You can go nicely or be herded.”
The entire coffee shop was watching, so Jill gave a breezy wave. “Big sisters,” she called out as an explanation. People laughed. Some rolled their eyes like they knew exactly why Meredith was dragging her off.
Her sister pushed her into her office and shut the door with a silky rap.
“You have some explaining to do,” she said without preamble.
“Okay.” Guilt made her stare at a point over Meredith’s shoulder.
Her sister’s hands went to her hips. “I heard from our new copy editor that she saw Brian moving things into your house. Like
boxes.
That’s not a few pairs of underwear and a change of clothes, Jill. What’s going on?”
At times like these, living in a small town sucked. Jill fiddled with a paperclip. “We’re giving it a trial run. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.” Plus she knew her family wouldn’t like it. Coming on the heels of the French chick’s arrival, right after she and Brian had started dating, no less, and the Hales would be worried about her getting hurt. Hadn’t they already called Brian out?
Meredith planted her hands on Jill’s desk, leaning over. “I don’t like this. Mom’s already gotten some calls, and she’s wondering about this sudden move. And don’t even ask me what Gramps said this morning over coffee.”
The paperclip twisted into modern art with the flick of Jill’s fingers. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep you updated.”
Meredith slapped her hand down, startling Jill into dropping the metal swizzle. “I’m your sister. I’m not someone you update.”
A combination of fatigue and guilt made Jill dart around the desk and pull Meredith into a hug. “You’re important to me, Mermaid. You all are. I just need to handle some stuff on my own.” She squeezed her hard enough to crack her ribs. “Things are complicated.”
Meredith gave her own version of a bear hug. “I know you don’t want us to think any less of him, Jill, but he’s distancing you from our family.” She pulled back. “It’s a dangerous thing to start. I know. I did it with Rick-the-Dick when we got married. Is that really how you want to play it?”
Jill thought back to how Meredith hadn’t come home or called as often when she’d been married to her loser ex. “It’s not like that with Brian. He’s not Rick-the-Dick.”
“Isn’t having Brian move in on the tails of his ex’s arrival a little over the top? Seriously, Jill, this looks like you’re going off half-cocked to try and keep him.”
Jill inhaled sharply. “Are you implying I’m desperate?”
“I don’t know. Your behavior kinda smacks of it. I don’t trust him right now, Jill, and I’m surprised you’re embracing him with open arms given everything that’s come to light. That just doesn’t seem smart.”
Having an older sister had many benefits, but not when it involved this kind of talk. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Jill!” Meredith cried. “You’ve always been an open book.”
She decided she could go for part of the truth. “That was before I started having sex with him.”
Meredith’s hands dropped from her arms. That shut her up. For a second.
“This is about more than sex.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t mean to piss you off, but don’t you think that’s odd? You suddenly have sex with Brian at a time like this when you were so concerned about waiting for the right moment. Now, he’s already moved in with you? Gramps thinks you’ve lost your mind.”
She didn’t need a lecture. “Gramps can think what he wants. So can you. It’s my life, Mere.”
“Why are you fighting so hard to keep us out, Jillie?”
She was afraid of their judgment, she realized. If she and Brian didn’t work out, she didn’t want them to act like she’d been stupid for not taking their advice.
“Sometimes you need a little space from your family to find your way. I have things to sort out. With Brian. And the long-term job offer from Mac. A lot of things.”
Meredith’s face fell. “That says it all then.”
“I’m sorry!”
“Me too,” she said and left.
After kicking her desk until her toe hurt, Jill walked back to Mac and signaled that she was ready to leave. She watched Meredith emerge from the bathroom as they headed to the door, wiping her eyes. She’d hurt her sister. Just when their relationship had grown back into something special.
But she didn’t need a lecture. She had enough on her hands.
