One Good Man (4 page)

Oh, sure, Andie. Yep, he's right out there waiting for you to
rock his world. Sex goddess that you are.

She remembered the electricity that jolted through her when he'd looked at her. She felt it even now, hours later, as though the memory of it lived in her cells.

You felt it, but that doesn't mean he did. Give it up, Andie.

He's not there.

No. She was not going to listen to that voice—the voice of shy, scared, insecure Andie. Andie the loser. She refused to be a loser anymore.

Andie swung her feet down to the floor and stood up. Her body acted of its own accord as her brain, from a distance, looked on. She walked toward the doorway. Daisy, lying on the floor, lifted her head and eyed Andie curiously.

"Good girl," she said automatically as she slipped into the hallway.

He's not there.

Past the half-bath, past the living room and dining room.

Andie's feet moved softly on the carpet.

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One Good Man

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Into the kitchen, toes bare on the cool vinyl. The only sound was the ticking of the wall clock, which was nearly drowned out by her heart thumping in her ears.

He's not there, Andie.

She crept to the glass door and froze.

He was there, in the same place as the night before. But tonight Matthew was standing and staring right at her.

A wave of heat flashed through her body, coating her in a sheen of sweat. At the same time she trembled as though caught in a snow squall. Again, her mind shut down, and her body took over. She unlocked the door latch, slid the glass panel open, and stepped onto the deck. The automatic sensors tripped the lights and she stood illuminated, the lights shining through the thin satin of her nightgown. Her nipples budded against the silky material and moisture pooled between her thighs.

Matthew did not move. Instead of T-shirt and jeans, he wore sweat pants and no shirt at all. The dark hair on his chest tapered down until it disappeared below the waistband of those sweat pants. His face bore no expression, but there was the tightness of arousal in his features.

He didn't move, didn't speak, as Andie slipped across the deck, down the steps, and across the lawn into his back yard.

Exactly as she'd done in her fantasy. In the fantasy, she glided smoothly into Matthew's waiting arms. She didn't step on a sharp stone with her bare foot and stumble like a clown.

"Ow! Oh."

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In the fantasy, Matthew didn't rush to catch her by the arms to keep her from falling flat on her face. He didn't need to hold her steady as she hopped on one foot wincing in pain.

Andie finally managed to stand on both feet. Burning with embarrassment, she almost turned around to crawl back home in humiliation.

Matthew's breath brushed her ear. "Are you all right?"

Her resolve stiffened. She grabbed his face and pulled him down for a hungry kiss.

Andie claimed him with her kiss, while his lips worked softly against hers, his tongue exploring the soft moist interior of her mouth. His large hand cupped the back of her head, making Andie feel possessed and cherished at the same time.

But Andie didn't want to be cherished, didn't want gentle and caring. She wanted wild and fierce. Wanted to feel his big hands rubbing all over her.

It was better than her fantasy, running her hands over his shoulders, down his biceps, across his furred chest. His skin was so warm, so smooth. She broke the kiss and leaned in to lick his nipple, but he grasped her arms and gently pulled her away.

"This way," he murmured, his warm breath tickling her ear and sending tingles over her skin. He turned her and guided her toward the doorway, intending to take her inside. But Andie wanted something different. Tonight it was ladies'

choice.

"No." She pulled him in another direction, around to the side of the house hidden from the street. Matthew's hand 35

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splayed on her lower back, burning through the light fabric of her nightgown as he followed her lead.

They barely made it into the dark corner when Matthew pushed her against the siding, kissing her hungrily and pulling up the back of her nightgown, running his hands over her back and ass. Andie edged her fingers down the top of his sweatpants, teasing his belly and playing with the coarse hair leading further down. Then, growing frustrated with her play, she pulled the stretchy waistband to stroke his erection. He was hot. Hot and hard and velvety.

Matthew played, too. His fingers, blunt and thick, moved from her ass to the crease between her thighs. He dipped into the slick cream her body so generously provided and swirled it around her clit. He touched her so perfectly—not too roughly or too directly, but teasingly, just enough to make her throb and ache.

She barely saw his face, hidden as they were in the dark.

They were two shadows, without faces or voices.

Panting with need, Andie hitched her leg up higher around his to give him better access. His fingers circled her clit, then swirled around the mouth of her sex, his middle finger sliding into her slippery wetness. She gasped and arched her back, wincing a bit but wanting more, too. He thrust his finger in and out, then withdrew completely.

Andie's breath caught in disappointment, but a moment later two fingers entered her. She whimpered as those fingers circled inside her, rubbing against a spot she'd read about in women's magazines but was never sure actually existed. The skin on her arms and neck prickled, her belly and chest and 36

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face bloomed with heat. The pressure grew and grew. She was so close to coming...so close. All she needed was a little bit more...

Matthew brushed her clit once, then again, and then once more, and Andie went over the edge. Sparkles crackled along her spine and behind her eyes. The pulsations went on and on until she sagged against the siding, Matthew's other hand gliding up her hip and along her side.

She wanted to make it as good for him as it had been for her. She tugged his pants down and sighed as she reached down to cup his balls, as heavy as ripe plums.

The skin of his shaft felt velvety soft as she stroked him, then twirled her thumb around the broad silky head, smoothing the pre-cum into it. Matthew grunted, then took her hand, and demonstrated how to stroke him harder, more vigorously. She was glad he showed her how he liked to be touched. It made her feel powerful to give him pleasure.

"Ah, yeah," he murmured and lifted her nightgown to scoop up her breasts in his hands. Her nipples budded as he flicked and teased them lightly. Andie moaned as he bent and took one in his mouth, lightly nipping it, making her grasp him more tightly which made him moan in turn.

They tormented each other until his balls tightened in her palm and Matthew threw his head back. Though she couldn't see his face, she felt the tension, coiled so tightly in him, release as he climaxed, his semen spurting over Andie's hand and onto her belly.

A few moments later he sighed and kissed her leisurely, his tongue claiming her mouth. Andie leaned into him, feeling 37

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as if she never wanted to leave that dark corner or his arms.

Stop that, Andie. This is not a love affair. It's just sex. Don't
turn into a blob of mush because of a good orgasm.

Okay, a great orgasm. A
really
great orgasm.

"Was it good?" he murmured.

"Mmm." She didn't want to talk. Talking made it too real.

She wanted to stay a shadow.

"How's your foot now?"

"S'okay." She burrowed her face against his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Let's go inside. I'll find a bandage."

Andie shook her head. "Uh-uh."

He flicked her ear with his finger. "Then wait for me. I'll be right out." He slanted his lips across hers possessively before he disappeared into the darkness.

Andie sagged against the side of the house, dazed and dreamy. They'd had sex as quickly and clumsily as a couple of horny teenagers in the back seat of a car. Except nothing like that had happened to Andie when she was a teen.

Her lone boyfriend in high school had been a guy named Ricki. She'd been flattered a cute, funny guy had liked her, shy and round. Andie was bigger, much bigger, in high school than she was now. She liked him a lot and they had great fun together, but their few experiences of half-hearted fumbling hadn't led much of anywhere. It turned out Ricki was gay and Andie was too innocent, or too dumb, to realize. That he spelled his name with an 'i' at the end instead of a 'y' should have been her first clue. But they remained best friends. Ricki 38

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was the first guy to ever tell her she was cute, besides giving her some pretty good hair and makeup tips.

Matthew—
thank God
—was nothing like Ricki. And though she'd been with a few guys since high school, Andie had never known such an intense experience as she had tonight.

She hoped it had been good for him as well. Someone like Matthew probably had sex whenever he wanted, however he wanted. She knew she wasn't his best. She only hoped she wasn't his worst.

Stop that
.
That's Andie the Loser talking. You were hot. He
had no reason to complain.

But what would happen when he came back outside? What if he wanted to talk? Andie didn't want chit-chat. She'd gotten what she wanted. To paraphrase Caesar, she came, she
came
, and now all she wanted to go home and sleep the sleep of the well-fucked.

She smirked. Good-girl Andie never allowed such crude thoughts to enter her mind. But good-girl Andie was no more.

From now on she'd put all her effort into being bad.

She crept around the corner, through the yard. As she reached the deck to her father's house the sensor lights turned on. Andie slid the glass door open and slipped inside.

When Matthew returned, he'd find her gone.

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39

One Good Man

by Nona Raines

"What's up with you today?" Tania asked, cellophane crinkling as she unwrapped her lunch.

"What?" Andie blinked at her. "Nothing."

They sat in the staff room of the library having their noon-time meal. Tania's was a package of creme-filled snack cakes, a bag of corn chips and a sixteen-ounce bottle of lemon-lime soda. Andie's was a carton of vanilla yogurt, a banana, and a diet cola. She'd still be hungry when she finished and be positively ravenous by mid-afternoon.

"You seem kind of out of it today. A little spacey." Tania took a bite of her cake and licked a bit of creme from her finger.

"Thanks." Andie stirred her yogurt without interest. In truth, she did feel spacey and disconnected. Although she'd slept like a rock after her interlude with Matthew last night, when she awoke she felt logy and off-center. The more she thought about the night before, the more confused she felt—

unsure whether to be thrilled or horrified by her brazen behavior.

It still seemed like a dream. Andie had almost convinced herself it
was
a dream when she awoke this morning, until she saw the crumpled nightgown on her bedroom floor. She'd tossed it there last night when she'd gotten home. In the morning it still held his scent, his essence.

She'd crept out to her car this morning, hoping to avoid him, and luckily had not spotted him at all. She wondered 40

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how he'd felt when he returned last night to their dark corner and found her gone. Had he been disappointed? Hurt? Or did he think she was some crazy slut?

And what difference did it make? If the guy was a player, he had no business judging her. If she was a going to stop being a loser, she'd have to stop caring what men thought.

Bitches like Gretchen didn't care what others thought.

They got what they wanted, and if someone got hurt along the way, oh well.

There were definite advantages to being a bitch.

"How's that hunky neighbor of yours?" Tania asked, eyeing her curiously.

Andie carefully peeled her banana. "Okay. I guess."

"Have you invited him over for another glass of wine?" The redhead lifted her eyebrows suggestively.

Andie flushed, which caused Tania's brows to lift even higher. "No." She frowned as Tania started on the second snack cake. "You realize there's nothing in there that's not artificial. Most of the ingredients are unpronounceable."

Her friend shrugged. "So? I like artificial. Latisha's always trying to get me to eat healthy, too, but believe me, it's a lost cause. Nice change of topic, by the way."

But Tania could take a hint when she needed to. She and Andie discussed a program Andie was planning for the library.

It was to be a series of readings of short stories and poems, each month featuring a different theme. Since they were kicking off in June, wedding month, the first theme was love and romance.

"Have you lined up the readers yet?" Tania asked.

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"I've got them all scheduled."

"Mmmhmm. What about the readings?" Tania's voice turned low and throaty. "Any
erotic
literature among the selections?"

Andie snorted. "Oh, I'm sure the library Board of Trustees would just
love
that."

"Bet you'd have a packed house."

"Whatever." Andie smiled at the memory of her own erotic adventure the night before. Wouldn't that story make the Trustees' ears burn?

Tania's eyes narrowed. "What's that about?"

"What?"

"That little smirky-smirk on your face. What's going on?

Are you holding out on me?" the redhead demanded.

If Andie were inclined to confide in anyone, it would be Tania. But she wasn't ready to talk about what happened with Matthew. She was still trying to make sense of it herself.