PosterBoyForAverage (8 page)

That entire day passed with no sight of Mike. Aubrey put on
her busted-up Levi’s. The ones that had rips in the ass and along one of the
belt loops. She had to wear knickers with them or she’d flash whoever was
behind her. She put on an old TSU sweatshirt and found the ugly red knockoff
Crocs Laura had bought her for her birthday a few years back. Then she attacked
the garden.

If she was physical with her day it would go faster and
she’d stop mooning over some guy she’d only messed around with once. Nice guy
or no, it was stupid to be this attached.

She weeded and picked the last of the Mr. Stripey tomatoes
and a few rogue zucchinis that hadn’t shriveled due to the chill. She stripped
dead plants, put them in a pile, pulled up stakes and assessed the possibility
of doing a late-fall planting. Maybe some root vegetables.

All the while her eyes kept drifting back to the basement
door. The image of herself pressed to the wall, under his hands, under his
mouth kept overwhelming her and she felt…hot.

Stupid.

Insane, actually.

She felt damn-near obsessed and that had never happened to
her before. She’d enjoyed the men she’d dated over the years. She’d enjoyed the
hell out of every lover she’d ever taken to bed. Or who had taken her. But
Aubrey could not remember ever being quite so…attached to a person so fast.

Her back ached and her head kind of hurt and she was
actually sweating like some wild beast by the time she was done, but she stood
and surveyed her now-stripped garden and her piles of yard waste that she
needed to bag.

But not until after some food. Food was important if she
wasn’t going to pass out face first in the box garden and suffocate on mulch.

Aubrey made a burger from some fresh ground beef. Salt, ketchup,
squishy white bread. Nothing fancy, but completely filling. Then she washed her
dishes and found the contractor bags in her basement that would hold all her
yard debris and the broken stakes and fence pieces.

After dragging that out, she found a beer in the basement
fridge and cracked it open. A squeeze of lime and a chair and she was set to
watch the sun lowering in the sky.

“And still no Mike. Don’t even act like you aren’t waiting
for him.”

Bruce jumped up, front paws on the chair, tail wagging. “I’m
not talking to you.”

He did that half-growl he did when he was talking back.

“Actually I
am
talking to you, because you are the
only being here with me.”

She finished the beer, dragged her tired ass up to the
shower and stripped while the water heated.

She stepped in, laughing at the dirt that swirled off her,
circled the drain and finally slipped away. “Filthy girl,” she said, meaning
the dirt. But the words brought back the images. Those damn images, and she
found her own fingers sliding up her wet thighs. Clean now, she parted her
nether lips and began to rub her clit in a slow, steady rhythm.

Aubrey pressed her head to the tile, letting the hot water
roll down her shoulders and back. She bent her legs, almost like a plié, and
picked up her rhythm.

His hands on her thighs…his mouth on her pussy…his tongue
working her. She paused, shivering despite the heat of the shower and pushed
two fingers inside her cunt.

Aubrey ground the heel of her hand against her clit. Her
hips moved up, seeking. Her heartbeat picked up speed. His hands on her thighs.
His hands…on her. It was enough, that image, to put her right on the edge in
just a few swift seconds.

When it became too much, being so close and not quite there,
she grabbed the showerhead, flipped it to massage and plied just a little
deeper. It parted her folds, bared her clitoris and added a stressful but
lovely bit of discomfort to the mix.

Aubrey came with her thighs shaking from the tension and her
head pressed back to the wall. Her cries bounced off the ceiling, flew down to
her and assaulted her ears.

* * * * *

“We have to stop meeting like this.” She said it to her
front-porch swing and the throw still bunched up at the far end. Aubrey settled
in with a book and a glass of wine. The day had felt slow, but it had been
productive. She had a date now with a Laura Lippman novel and a glass of
Moscato.

She’d managed to walk Bruce, a fact that did not fail to
please him immensely. A walk with Bruce was more like a social parade. She
walked him down the side streets of her neighborhood and every few houses there
was usually a cry of “Batman!” and then someone coming to the front walk to
visit.

By the time they’d returned home, he’d had about a dozen
different people pat him on the head, two children came out to pet him and he’d
been given three biscuits. He was a happy pup. And Aubrey was happy because the
sun was down for the day.

She was equal parts curious and worried for Mike. But
instead of focusing on her embarrassing fixation, she decided to act like a
grown-up and read a book and drink some wine.

Despite her thoughts that her front-porch relaxation was
just a ruse to wait, she ended up reading half the book while sipping two
glasses of wine over several hours. So when she looked up to see a bat swooping
low near her front pear tree, she also saw the truck’s headlights pierce the
darkness as it turned the corner.

Her stomach fluttered with emotion and she clutched her book
a bit too tightly. Was it him?

The truck pulled up out front and she heard the parking brake
engage. Aubrey, despite her thoughts to do otherwise, stood.

She stayed wrapped in the throw. Her armor. It wasn’t hard.
As he opened the door to climb out, she remembered that just several hours
before, she’d touched herself thinking of him. Warmth spread through her
despite the dipping temperature.

In the yellow glare of the truck’s interior light he looked
a little thinner. Tired.

Mike didn’t see her and he started up the front walk with a
duffle bag. It finally occurred to her that he’d been spending the night at the
hospital. If he was home, that meant Chuck was better or had gone home with his
mother. She hoped.

She almost let him go. Almost let the fear of rejection
smother her urge to talk to him. Finally, she swallowed hard just as he was
about to take the bottom step of his front porch. Aubrey cleared her throat and
managed a tentative, “Hey.”

Mike stopped, turned her way. He was somewhat visible thanks
to the streetlights and Aubrey could only assume she was too. Even standing on
her porch steps.

She was pretty sure he grinned and then a return, “Hey.”

Aubrey shifted in place, rubbing her thighs together
nervously. She realized why that was a bad idea when a fresh spear of lust
stabbed her. “Um…can I buy you a wine?”

“No coffee?” But he was already headed toward her in the
dark. Her fingers were tingly, her face a little numb. When was the last time
she’d felt so out of whack just because of a guy?

“Never,” she whispered, answering her own question.

He cocked his head. “Sorry?”

Aubrey covered as quickly as she could. “I said, not really.
But I can make you some if you want. I figured wine or a beer was more
appropriate at this time of night. Or even a cup of herbal t—”

She was babbling and she stopped herself when he stepped up
to meet her. They were face-to-face and she could see the stubble on his face,
the tired look in his eyes—but God…the fucking sharp cut of his jaw and the
solid, comforting bulk that was Mike Sykes.

She touched him before she could think better of it. “So
what’ll it be?”

He dropped his duffle and she went rigid with anticipation.
Mike wrapped his hands around her upper arms, drawing her in. He kissed her, his
tongue confident and seeking but gentle. Aubrey let herself melt into that
kiss. After all, how many fucking fantasies had she had about this over the
last few days?

More than she could count.

“It’ll be more of this.” His hands found her waist and she
stepped a bit closer, praying they didn’t get too wrapped up and take a header
off her slate steps onto the walkway below.

“I can do that,” Aubrey said softly. She took her chance,
molding her body to his. Pressing the curves of her body to the straightness of
his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and covered them both with the
blanket. “I’ve been wanting to do that,” she confessed.

Under the shield of the blanket, his hands slid up over her rib
cage, found her breasts. He teased her nipples through her thermal top. She was
braless underneath. It was easy for Mike to pinch her when the twin points
hardened under his touch.

Aubrey gasped and he kissed her quiet.

“I’ve been fantasizing about doing that for days,” he said,
pressing his lip to her ear.

Aubrey shivered, holding him tightly. Hoping against hope
that she wasn’t actually asleep on the swing and dreaming this moment.

The kiss deepened and the heat between them warmed her. His
fingers slid down her sides and this time he cupped her ass, hauled her
forward, pulling her against him so she could feel the erection pressed
promisingly against the split of her pussy lips. Her lounge pants were
well-loved, soft, thin cotton, and they did little to separate her body from
his.

“Didn’t you invite me inside?” he said. Then he ran his
teeth along her throat before skating them over her clavicle.

Her knees felt weak and she gasped, laughing softly at
herself. “I did. Would you like to come inside, Mike?”

They both paused at her inadvertent double entendre.

He kissed her once more, nipping her lower lip when he drew
back. “Yes, Aubrey. And yes. Yes to both meanings of that question.”

She led him inside.

He paused just inside the door and Aubrey dropped the
blanket that she’d kept tight around her. Not the best outfit for seduction,
but his eyes roamed over her well-fitted thermal, her hard nipples pressed to
the front, noticing the way it hugged her belly and the top of her hips. Aubrey
felt damn near naked and she made a small startled sound when he reached out
and ran the tip of his finger over the split of her nether lips. The soft,
pliant cotton of her lounge pants did nothing to stop him. She was grateful.

“I spent a lot of time sleeping sitting up the last two
days,” he said softly.

Her heart broke a little and she whispered, “Chuck—”

Mike smiled at her. “Is on the mend. Thank you.”

“Good.”

He tugged the tie on her pants and it started to succumb to
his touch as easily as Aubrey knew she would. But then he stopped. She licked
her lips, felt the staggering pound of her heart all the way in her forehead.

“But like I said, I spent a lot of time sleeping sitting up.
And I spent a lot of time dreaming about you. About this.” Mike stepped toward
her, closing the meager distance between them. “About where we left off.”

He brushed his lips across her mouth and when Aubrey parted
her lips, he took her mouth in a long, slow kiss again. His hands cupped her
ass and he pressed himself to her, rubbing his hard cock against her so that
her clit sang with blood and arousal.

“Where we left off…” she sighed. “That was…you are such a
tease, Mr. Sykes.”

He chuckled. “I’ve been told I’m too easy. You’re the first
woman to call me a tease. Of course…” He shook his head and kissed her. It was
to silence himself, she thought. Not her.

“Of course what?” Aubrey gave in. She let her hand travel
the fly of his faded Levi’s. She let herself rub along the hard ridge of his
erection, knowing it was for her. Because of her. And loving it.

“Of course, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been in this
position with a woman.” He bared her shoulder, skimmed his teeth along that
skin until she shivered.

Aubrey moaned once. But once was enough to make him growl.
He took a few big steps, moving her with him. Aubrey found herself pinned
against the wall, her hands above her head, her body moving against his
instinctively. There wasn’t much fabric on her, but the stuff that was there
was irritating her to no end.

Mike seemed to read her mind. He kissed her roughly,
pressing his hard, warm chest to hers. Then he pressed his mouth to her ear.
First, he simply licked a hot line from the top of her ear all the way along
the curve until he nipped her earlobe. But then he spoke.

“I want to take all these clothes off you, Aubrey. Is that
okay? If I make you naked? So I can have my way with you?”

Her voice had fled. There was a fun kind of teasing in his
voice, but under it was a controlled sincerity that had her pulse jack-rabbiting.
Aubrey nodded. It was all she could manage.

He released her hands and slipped his fingers beneath the
hem of her top and she raised her arms without a second thought. Mike pulled it
up slowly. So slowly she could feel the cooler air of the room lick along her
waist, her rib cage. He paused to let her catch her breath, his pale-blue eyes
fixed on her eyes. He’d never looked more serious to her. He’d never looked
more handsome.

When she licked her lips, when she thought her knees would
unhinge and she’d sit down on her ass right there just from the anticipation,
he pulled the shirt up the rest of the way. Baring her breasts, ruffling her
hair.

The thermal top hit her hardwood floor and she heard Bruce
run over, turn around and nest in it. She would have laughed at her dog’s
opportunism, except Mike had pulled the drawstring of her pants. As they grew
looser, she grew wetter.

“Mike…hurry,” she said.

“I have no intention of hurrying.” He tugged the end of her
hair and a fresh rush of fluid graced the tops of her thighs. The heather-gray
pants dropped and she found herself there, still hugging the living room wall,
bare for him.

Mike took a step back to look at her. His blue eyes were
more intense than she’d ever seen them and she noted that they grew a few
shades darker when he was turned on. They were now the color of slightly faded
denim.