More Than Once (9 page)

Another orgasm rushed through me, like a tidal wave dragging me under, and I was helpless to stop it. Andrew’s fingers gripped the ribbon, and he thrust up into me with a fast, relentless rhythm, making my back arch. I felt like I was going to break apart into a million pieces, but he held me together. Somehow I rode through it as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me, until he joined me, bucking his hips and groaning my name as he lost control.

I collapsed against his chest, unable to hold myself up any longer, and he cradled me against him, stroking my head. The moment had been so intense, both emotionally and physically, all we could do was breathe and recover.

He untied me and brought my wrists to his lips, kissing each one softly. “Becca, you’re the best Christmas present I could have asked for.”

“That was…” There were no words that could describe it. Amazing, incredible, fucking fantastic…all of those seemed to fall short. In the past few months, I’d often wondered if I’d imagined how good it had been with Andrew or if my memory had become exaggerated and blown out of proportion with time. But now I knew it was all true.

“I know,” he said, drawing me into his arms again.

We relaxed into the bed together, wrapping around each other, pressing gentle, slow kisses to each other’s lips and bodies. As euphoric exhaustion pulled us both under, I was left with one final thought.

Andrew was the nicest guy I’d ever met, but he sure fucked like a bad boy.

C
hristmas morning. Snow falling outside the window as the sun rose. Becca, naked and nestled against me under a warm blanket. Could things get any more perfect?

Last night had been unforgettable. Seeing her hot little body all tied up and eager for me. Feeling her give herself over to me completely. Tasting her, sucking her, doing everything to her I’d dreamed about for the last five months…

I should have contacted her after I’d moved here. I’d started messages to her dozens of times, but had always deleted them. I’d just been so damn messed up after Tara turned down my proposal. Even being in a new city, being Andrew instead of Andy, hadn’t been enough to get over her. It took me months before I could look at another blonde without my heart clenching up painfully. And every time that damn Villain Complex song came on the radio I wanted to punch something. Did the radio stations have to play it every five freaking minutes?

If I hadn’t run into Becca at the department store yesterday, I might never have seen her again. Thank god for last-minute Christmas shopping.

She was so beautiful I could stare at her forever, with that smooth skin and those soft lips and dark eyelashes. I brushed hair away from her face, stroking the top of her golden head. She stirred, snuggling up against me like she belonged there. I closed my eyes and tightened an arm around her body.

As I dozed in and out of sleep, I found myself picturing other mornings spent like this, daydreaming of a life where I woke up with Becca at my side. My eyes snapped open when I realized where my thoughts were heading. Jesus, what was wrong with me? I couldn’t think about anything like that. It was way too soon, and I wasn’t ready for that kind of relationship yet. I might
never
be ready.

One date. That was what we’d agreed to. It didn’t have to lead to anything more than that. We could have some fun together and then… Well, I’d worry about the rest later.

For now, I had another few hours to spend as Brett to impress the… Hmm, I really should know Becca’s last name by now.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she nuzzled into my neck. She mumbled something and wrapped a leg around me, and I smoothed a hand up and down her thigh.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered in her ear.

“Mmm,” she murmured, her voice sleepy.

“What’s your last name?”

She tilted her head up, blinking at me. “What?”

“I just realized I don’t know your last name.”

“It’s Collins.”

“Nice to meet you, Becca Collins,” I said with a smile. “I’m Andrew West.”

“It’s actually Rebecca, but only my parents call me that,” she said, pulling the blanket up to her neck. “And I can’t believe you woke me up for that.”

“You were already awake.”

“Maybe.” She smiled and relaxed against my chest. “I’m very glad I ran into you yesterday, Andrew West.”

“Me too. I wish I had called you sooner.” I played with her hair, loving how soft it was against my fingertips. “I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So why didn’t you call? Was it only because of Tara or…?”

“Partly, yeah. It took me a long time to get over her, and I’m still not ready for another relationship.” I paused, debating whether to tell her the next part, but I wanted to be honest with her. It was one of the things I enjoyed most about being with her—how easy it was to talk to her. “But it was partly because after the way things ended between us, I didn’t think you wanted me to call.”

A throaty laugh escaped her. “That’s why I didn’t call you either.”

“We’re both idiots, then.”

She traced lazy circles on my abs. “I didn’t call you because I didn't want to be a rebound… And because I know I’m not good enough for you.”

I grabbed her hand, stilling her. “Why would you ever think that?”

She gave a little shrug. “You wear suits to work, went to a fancy college, and drive an Audi. I wear beat-up combat boots, dropped out of college, and can’t even hold down a shitty job. The two of us…we’re complete opposites.”

“I don’t care about any of that. I like you the way you are.”

“The way I am now? Or the way I was
before
?”

“Both. I like your new determination to make your life what you want it to be, and I love seeing you with your family. You’re different with them. More relaxed. But I also like your bad-girl side.” I touched her ear, running a finger along the lobe. “I miss all your piercings.”

She brushed her lips across mine. “Tara didn’t know what she had.”

“And what’s that?”

“A good guy who turns into a bad boy behind closed doors.”

“Is that what you think of me?” I asked with a grin. “Maybe I am now because of you. I wasn’t so ‘bad,’ as you say, with Tara. Or any other girl.”

“Why was it different with me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you were a stranger or because you told me you liked it rough or because I was just having a really shitty day and didn’t want to hold back. Something about you made me feel like I could finally be myself.”

She gave me a faint smile. “I like that I’m the only one who knows this side of you. But you must have dated someone since you moved to Dallas…”

I shook my head. “Some of the girls in my office seemed interested, but I avoided all of that. My head wasn’t in the right place.”

“Not at all? Not even quick hookups or casual sex?” She sounded surprised. She’d obviously moved on to other guys after moving back here and probably assumed I’d done the same.

“Nope. You were the last girl I was with.”

For a minute she was silent, simply curled against me with her palm flat on my chest. “I haven’t been with anyone either,” she finally said.

“What? Since me?” I searched her face, unable to believe it. “What about perfect boyfriend Brett?”

“I never slept with him. We’d only been dating a few weeks, and I was taking it slow, trying to have a real relationship for once, with dates and meeting the parents and everything. You saw how well that worked out for me.”

“Brett is a jerk. But I’m a selfish asshole ‘cause I’m glad he broke up with you.”

“I am too.”

She slid her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts against me. I held her tight, and we fell into a slow kiss that started out tender and soft and then became more intense and demanding. She teased me with her tongue and I tugged at her lower lips with my teeth. When she spread her legs around my hips, I knew she could feel how hard she’d made me.

She drew back from the kiss and met my eyes. “Everything I just said about taking it slow with Brett was an excuse. I didn’t want to sleep with him for one reason: he wasn’t you.”

“Becca…” The words fell away, my mouth suddenly dry. So many emotions rushed through me that it became hard to breathe. The desire was still there, of course, but it was pushed down by the overwhelming pleasure and relief from hearing that she hadn’t been with anyone else since me and didn’t want to be either.

And that was fucking terrifying.

I couldn’t fall for her. I
couldn’t
. There was too big of a chance she would rip my heart out, just like Tara had done. Becca made me feel more than I’d felt in months. Maybe ever. But falling for Becca would only give her the power to hurt me. If I felt this strongly about her after only a few days, what about in a few months? Or a year? When she walked away, as all my other girlfriends had done, how would I ever recover?

“Becca,” I started again, my voice rough. “I know we’re pretending to be together and all that, but like I said, I’m not looking for anything serious.”

Her body tensed up and she pulled back. “I know. You’ve made that very clear.” She laughed, but it sounded forced. “You’re just my fake boyfriend. Don’t worry. I wasn’t starting to believe it was real.”

Hearing the sharpness in her voice made my gut twist. God, I was being such a dick, but this had to be done now so neither of us got hurt later. I took her chin, drawing her eyes back to mine with a smile. “Hey, I still want us to go on that date. I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea about where this is going.”

“It’s fine,” she said, but I could tell it wasn’t. “We can be fuck buddies and nothing else if that’s what you want.”

I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore, but “fuck buddies” sounded so harsh compared to what we had together. I didn’t want her to think all I cared about was sex. “It will be a real date, I promise. No fucking has to happen, unless you want it to.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I will,” she said with the hint of a laugh.

I couldn’t help but grin at that. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

“That works.” She sighed and sat up, reaching for her clothes. “Now that I don’t have a job, my schedule is pretty damn open.”

“Again, I feel really bad about that. If there’s anything I can do—”

“I’ll figure something out, but thanks.” She gave me a sly smile. “If all else fails, I can always go back to stripping.”

Over my dead body
, I wanted to say. Instead I coughed and said, “You were a stripper?”

“Sure. I told you I used to dance topless in bars. It paid well.” She pulled her dress back on. “And since we’re keeping it casual, I’m sure you won’t mind if other guys get a look at the goods, right?”

I swallowed hard and didn’t answer. She was teasing me, but her words had struck a nerve. I didn’t want any other guy looking at her body, thinking about all the things he wanted to do to her. I wanted her to be mine, and mine alone.

Yeah, I was in serious trouble.

I
managed to sneak back to my bedroom with no one spotting me, and I took a quick shower while the rest of the house stirred and my parents arrived.

As the hot water washed over me, I replayed Andrew’s words while we were in bed, trying to get over the ache in my chest. I’d known from the beginning that he didn’t want anything serious, and I thought I’d been okay with that. But Andrew pretending to be my boyfriend had been so nice that I couldn’t help but wish, just a tiny bit, that it could be real.

He was the perfect package: smart, friendly, gorgeous, and amazing in bed. We’d only known each other a short time, but we had this intense connection that I’d never felt with anyone else. Even though we were complete opposites in every way, we
got
each other. Maybe because we both wanted to move on from our shitty pasts and start fresh. With Andrew, I thought maybe I could actually do it…if he ever wanted that, too. But from what he’d said this morning, that seemed unlikely.

Thirty minutes later, I met everyone downstairs wearing a red and black sweater over a pair of jeans. Andrew was stuck wearing his clothes from yesterday, although they were a bit rumpled and he’d skipped the tie today. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and a big smile, like everything was perfect between us. We were back to pretending.

We settled in the living room with some coffee and began to open presents. Hannah dashed around, grabbing gifts from under the tree and delivering them to their recipients, like some kind of Christmas pixie. She spent the rest of the time gleefully opening her own presents, throwing wrapping and ribbon around the room.

Andrew didn’t get any presents, of course, but he seemed content sitting beside me on the couch with his arm around my shoulders like we were an old married couple. Mom and Trish promised to send tons of leftovers home with him, too.

“But why aren’t you two exchanging presents?” my mom asked us.

I opened my mouth to answer, but didn’t have a good excuse. If he was really my boyfriend, we should have presents for each other. I wracked my brain but couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

Andrew tightened his arm around me and gave my mother a warm smile. “We have a date tomorrow night, and we’re exchanging presents then.”

“I bet we know what kind of presents those will be,” my sister said with a teasing grin. I shot her a threatening look, but our parents wisely ignored her comment.

After the presents were opened and the gift wrap cleaned up, Mom and Trish went into the kitchen to fix brunch. I offered to help, but they kicked me out and told me to go enjoy my morning with “Brett” instead of getting in their way. I huffed at them, but was secretly relieved—I was a terrible cook.

My dad and Matt were sitting by the fire in the living room, so I went outside in search of Andrew. He stood on the back porch, gazing across the snow-covered backyard, while Hannah filled her new sled with her favorite superhero action figures. When he turned to face me, all my anxiety about the two of us faded away. It was hard to feel anything but warmth under the full force of his golden smile.