Single in Suburbia (29 page)

At midnight parents began arriving to pick up their kids. The only one who attempted to linger was Susie Simmons, but by twelve thirty everyone but Meghan, Samantha, Hunter, and herself, was gone.

The girls yawned in unison. Amanda followed suit. Hunter was right behind her.

“Wow, I’m beat,” he said too quickly.

Amanda yawned again. “Me too,” she said.

They looked at each other over the girls’ heads.

“You two get to sleep.” Hunter stood and moved toward her. “I’ll see Amanda home.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Amanda protested because she knew that’s what she would have said to anyone else. “I’m not even a mile away.”

She stole a glance at Meghan, but her daughter appeared too euphoric over the party’s success to tune in to the undercurrents swirling around her or to make anything of the fact that with both she and Wyatt spending the night out, Amanda and Hunter would be in their house alone.

Ignoring her halfhearted objections, Hunter patted his pockets for his keys, scooped Amanda’s purse from behind the kitchen counter, and grabbed her hand. “You girls get ready for bed,” he said. “I don’t want to hear a peep out of you when I get back.”

Before Amanda could protest further, they were out the door, and he was helping her into her car. When she was settled behind the wheel, he leaned in and kissed her, a searing kiss that promised all kinds of things she sincerely hoped he was going to deliver.

Her hands actually shook on the steering wheel as she drove, her gaze trained on him in her rearview mirror, her mind fantasizing forward to what might happen next.

Her clock was so tightly wound she was afraid her works might pop out.

At home she pulled into the garage and barely waited for him to pull to a stop next to her before she sent the garage door flying down.

“OK,” she said as she climbed out of the van.

“OK,” he repeated as he clambered out of the Escalade and strode around it toward her.

They stood in front of each other for all of two seconds before they were in each other’s arms. His mouth covered hers, warm and insistent. Their tongues met and parried.

He slid his hands down her sides then slipped them beneath her buttocks to lift her up for an even tighter fit.

“Hmmmm…” She pressed against the bulge of his erection, rubbed her breasts against his chest. Details seemed unimportant; it was the touching that mattered.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he said, “and hold on. We need to go inside.”

She did as instructed and he carried her toward the kitchen door, his erection pressing more insistently against her with every step.

“Do you have the keys?” He groaned when they reached the door. “God, you feel good.”

She thought that must be an understatement, because at the moment she was way better than good and on her way to great. She did not, however, know where her keys were. “They must be in the car.”

With another groan he carried her back down the garage steps to the car. With one hand he pulled the van door open and fumbled around for the ignition, his mouth still glued to hers and their bodies still wedged together. His free hand supported her bottom.

When he’d managed to get hold of the keys, he retraced his steps, still holding her against him, his mouth still moving on hers. At the top of the steps he broke the kiss long enough to put the keys in her hand. “Inside. Now,” he croaked.

It was her turn to fumble, but she finally got the right key in the lock. They pushed through the doorway into the house. As the door slammed behind them, he turned and braced her against it, deepening the kiss.

Panting with need, she tore her lips from his. “Bedroom,” she said. “Upstairs.”

Following her breathless directions, he carried her up the flight of stairs and into her bedroom. Not bothering to pull back the comforter, he laid her on the bed and looked down at her, visibly struggling for control. “Are you OK with this?”

She didn’t want to think about OK versus not, didn’t want to analyze, debate, or—God forbid—talk herself out of this wondrous thing that was about to happen. She nodded her head and held her arms up to him.

He smiled. Good Lord, the man’s smile was almost as big a turn on as the rest of him. Her body quivered with anticipation.

In one smooth movement, he removed his shirt and dropped it on the floor. Kneeling over her, he began to unbutton her blouse. Before she could catch her breath, they were both naked from the waist up.

His eyes on her made her nipples harden. He smiled and traced them with his fingertips then leaned over and circled them with his tongue.

When he straightened, she reached for the snap of his jeans. Staring into his eyes, she pulled the zipper down and reached for him.

The glow in his eyes was its own form of foreplay. As he eased off her to step out of his jeans and underwear, she felt an answering wetness between her legs. When he slid her panties down her legs, she held herself very still, afraid she’d come before he’d done anything more than look at her.

“I, uh, haven’t done this for a while,” she said.

“No?” A smile played around his lips as he knelt in front of her again and spread her legs. “Then we’ll have to make it very, very good.”

He lowered his mouth and opened her with his tongue. Mini-waves of pleasure rippled through her. “Oh, thank, God,” she managed, as her body tightened. “I was so afraid you weren’t going to give it your all.”

She thought she felt a burble of laughter against her clitoris, but he brought his thumbs up to brush her breasts at the same time and she was too distracted by how good everything felt to be sure.

Every touch, every flick of his tongue drove her closer to the precipice.

She tried to hold on, tried to resist the inexorable freefall that beckoned, but Hunter’s hands and mouth moved in tandem. His hair brushed across her bare skin.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and she teetered on the verge, exquisitely taut, until she was forced to let go.

He held her while she orgasmed in a rockslide of pure sensation.

Long, gasping moments passed before she remembered to breathe. When she was able to open her eyes, she stared up into his and saw the haze of lust that filled them.

“Come here,” she said, pulling him closer. “I want to give you what you gave me.”

He raised his body forward so that his penis rubbed against her. “You’re the boss,” he said. “All we need is a condom.”

She expected him to locate his jeans and whip one from the pocket. She was ready to help him put it on; could probably break land and air speed records doing it. Anything to prolong the sensations pulsing through her. And make sure he experienced them too.

“Do you have one?” he asked.

Given all the blood that had rushed to her sexual organs, she thought maybe she had misunderstood. “Me?” she asked. “A condom?”

“That night at the grocery store you had hundreds of them,” he said more urgently. “Tell me where they are, and I’ll get one.”

Amanda closed her eyes and drew in a shaky breath. Her body wanted Hunter James buried inside her and it wanted him now.

But there was a small problem. “I, um…” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I don’t have any. I, um, I tied them all to a tree.”

He blinked. It was the only part of him that moved. “I hate to be critical at a time like this,” he finally said, “but I think you’ve got things a little bit confused.”

She couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry.

He rolled off her. “We’re not on
Candid Camera
are we?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I frittered them away in a twisted attempt at revenge and now, when I would sell my soul for one, I am condomless.”

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I can tell this is a completely fascinating story, and I hope you’ll tell it to me later.” He stood, naked and glorious, and pulled on his jeans. Then he was moving purposefully toward the door. “But right now I’m going to check the glove compartment, my wallet, and anywhere else I can think of for some form of protection.”

She would have liked to toss her head back and laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, but she simply couldn’t believe this was happening. A moment ago she’d been in the throes of a ten-point orgasm and now she was alone in bed, watching the man who’d given it to her scrambling for the door.

He stopped in the doorway and turned to face her. Seeing her expression, he strode back to the bed. “Don’t move.” He smiled at her, his eyes frantic, yet warm. “If I have to, I’ll hit the Kroger on Upper Roswell. It’s open twenty-four hours.”

He leaned over and kissed her, a long deep kiss that made her body tingle with renewed anticipation. “When I get back, we’ll do whatever it takes to put you back in the mood. That, you can count on.”

Then he turned and pretty much sprinted for the door.

chapter
25

H
e did come back, right?” It was Sunday afternoon and Candace was completely ignoring the line of people awaiting her attention at the concession stand. “After my own Friday night fiasco, I need to know that somebody’s evening worked out.”

Amanda nodded and blushed, which, Brooke realized, she’d been doing a lot of since they’d arrived to open the stand.

“Oh God, your cheeks are all red.” Candace turned to Brooke. “I may not know how to negotiate a settlement between Dan and my mother, but I knew Hunter James would be good in bed.”

Amanda nodded again. If possible, her cheeks grew redder.

“Here, I’ll take the window.” Amused, Brooke pushed Candace away from the front of the concession stand. “I can see you’re determined to wring every tiny detail out of the poor woman.” She smiled at the little girl clutching her dollar bill and moved to get the Icee she requested. “But speak up. I don’t want to miss the good parts.”

“I am not sharing details,” Amanda insisted. “It’s wrong to kiss and tell.” Brooke turned to get a hot dog from the warmer and saw Amanda grin evilly. “Besides it would take way too long. They were
all
good parts.” She fanned her flaming cheeks. “I wonder if this is what a hot flash feels like?”

“I don’t think so,” Candace said. “None of the menopausal women I know look anywhere near as happy as you do when they’re having one.” Then Candace’s face flushed and she, too, began to fan her cheeks. “I’m kind of starting to wonder whether I’m going through the change early. My whole system seems to be out of whack.”

There was a whoop from the stands nearby and the three of them rushed to the window.

“Can you see what’s happening?” Amanda asked. “I thought I heard Wyatt’s name.”

“No, but here comes Tyler.” Brooke hated the sense of dread that accompanied the approach of her stepson. No matter what she said or did, he seemed to take it as an insult.

“Hi, Ty.” She greeted him as jovially as she could when he reached the concession window, but he looked right past her toward Amanda. “Hi, Mrs. Sheridan,” he said, all smiles now.

Brooke bit back a gasp at the insult.

Amanda greeted him in return then stepped close to Brooke, turning her body away from the window. “Lesson number one in suburban motherdom: don’t let him treat you that way,” she whispered near Brooke’s ear. With a subtle squeeze of Brooke’s shoulder Amanda moved toward the back counter, leaving Brooke to face Tyler.

“I agree,” Candace said quietly. “It’s time to take a stand. If he’s going to treat you like the evil stepmother anyway, you might as well have your say.”

She went to join Amanda at the back counter, which was far enough away from the front window not to get involved, but close enough to hear.

Brooke cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. Amanda and Candace were right. Keeping her mouth shut had accomplished nothing. It was time to speak; if nothing else he’d know her true feelings. If he rejected them, well, at least she would have said her piece.

Screwing up her courage, Brooke looked Tyler directly in the eye; something, she realized with surprise, she couldn’t remember having done before. “I guess if you actually want something, you’re going to have to deal with me,” she said.

There was a silence. Studying him, she noticed that his brown eyes were identical to his father’s and so were the set of his jaw and the shape of his brow. This wasn’t just some hostile teenager to whom she had no connection, this was Hap’s child, his own flesh and blood; there had to be enough of Hap inside to give her something she could tap into.

“Really, Ty, this can’t continue. You don’t have to love me.”

A look of abject horror washed over his face.

“I guess you don’t even have to like me, although I hope one day you will.”

Still Tyler didn’t speak. But because she didn’t look away, she saw the barrage of other emotions that flashed across his face. First there was anger followed by hurt, fear, and uncertainty. In the end he went with his old standby, hostility.

“I know this isn’t easy for you,” she said. “Hell, if I were you, I’d probably hate me too.”

Tyler’s look of hostility was replaced by one of surprise.

Brooke wanted desperately to make him understand. Not knowing how else to get through, she simply put all that she was feeling into her words and prayed he’d hear the truth. “The thing is,” she said, “I really love your father.” She swallowed. “And I know you do too.” She tilted her chin a notch. “I know it would mean a lot to him if we could at least be cordial. That’s all I’m looking for right now, Ty. Basic courtesy on both sides.” She looked him straight in the eye again. “Maybe somewhere down the road—and I’m on this road for the long haul so there’s no point thinking I’m just a temporary irritant—somewhere down the road, maybe we can have more than that. I hope we will, but that’ll be up to you.”

In a movie, Brooke thought, the music would swell and Ty would throw himself into her arms in a big gushy embrace and vow to meet her more than halfway.

Brooke watched his face closely. Behind her Amanda and Candace stopped wrapping burgers. She could feel them holding their breath, just as she was.