The Idea of You (15 page)

“Take it out,” she said. “Take them both out.”

He did as she said and pushed the bra down so her breasts could pop free. He gathered one in each hand and pulled the nipples.

“Yes. Harder. Pinch them.”

Again, he followed her command, using his thumbs and forefingers to pull on the nubs and roll them between his fingers before giving them a quick pinch.

She gasped, and her head fell forward, draping her hair over his hands. She kissed him again, her mouth open and wild as she tangled her tongue with his. He squeezed her breasts as she pumped her hips against his. If he didn't fuck her soon, he was going to explode.

He broke the kiss. “Alaina, we need to go.”

“Why? The windows are totally fogged—no one can see in. Have you ever had sex in a car?” She retreated from him and fumbled with her jeans. “I'm guessing not, given what you said earlier. Am I wrong?”

“No, you're not wrong.” He could just make out her breasts bouncing in the shadows as she pushed her jeans and underwear down over her hips. He licked his lips, eager to taste her again. “Come back.”

“Just a second.” She pulled one of her boots off and brought one naked leg up around his. “Not terribly graceful, but sex in a car rarely is.” She leaned forward, grazing her bare breasts against his shirtfront. “It's totally worth it, though.” She kissed him again, hard and deep, as she unbuttoned his jeans.

He found her breasts again, his fingers taunting and tugging until she gasped and moaned. Then he pushed them up and bent his head to take one into his mouth. He wasn't remotely cold now, not with her hot flesh in his grip and on his tongue.

Then, holy hell, her hand dipped into his pants and pulled his cock free. She worked her hand over the shaft, and her fingers circled the base. She pumped him several times while he suckled her hard.

Her moans were punctuated with yesses as she rubbed her thumb over the tip of his cock. She gathered the wetness there and spread it around before stroking his shaft again. Her grip was firm and fast, so fucking good. He dug his fingers into her breasts and moved to the other nipple, drawing on it with his teeth.

“Is there still a condom in your pocket?”

He'd told her he was putting one there—that he would any time they were together, which had made her laugh. “Always.”

She laughed again, but this time it was low in her throat. Gravelly. Sexy. Her fingers dove into the pocket of his jeans and came out with the condom. He kept up his attention on her breasts while she ripped it open and unrolled it over his shaft. When it was on, she moved lower and stroked the underside of his balls, her nails grazing his flesh as she brought her hand up.

Widening her stance over him, she positioned his cock at her opening. “God, you feel so good.” She pushed down, and he slid into her tight, wet sheath as perfectly as an Olympic diver expertly breaching the surface of the pool. She rotated her hips and took him deep until his balls hit her ass. She stayed like that a moment, her thighs pressing against his.

He stared at her breasts, so round and perfect in the near-dark. He buried his face between them, loving her scent and the silky feel of her skin as she began to ride him. He thrust up into her as she ground down. He kept a hold of her flesh and continued tormenting her breasts with his hands and mouth. She gripped his shoulders as she slammed down onto him over and over again. The sounds of their moans and their bodies connecting filled the now-humid car.

He pulled on her nipple with his teeth, and her muscles clenched around his cock. She cried out as she came, her body moving in a spectacular frenzy. He lifted his hips from the seat, piercing into her with hard strokes as his orgasm built to a massive crescendo. He moaned against her flesh, his eyes closed tightly as wave after wave of pleasure assaulted him. He didn't think he'd ever come that hard.

He leaned his head back against the seat, his breath coming fast. He kept his eyes closed as he tried to regain his equilibrium. She nestled her head against his neck, her pants slowing. She laid her hand on his collarbone and lightly massaged him. Gradually, he began to feel like a human instead of a hungry animal.

She lifted her head, and he opened his eyes. When her gaze found his, he didn't look away. “I hope that was okay.”

“That was fucking amazing. I'd say I missed out on not having sex in a car before, but the location is secondary. It's all you, Alaina.”

She was the first one to break eye contact this time. “I got a little carried away. Sorry.”

He stroked his thumb along her jaw. “Please get carried away as often as you like.” He kissed her softly, his tongue joining hers for a gentler, sweeter dance than before.

When they broke apart, she lifted her leg and sat back on the seat next to him. “Sorry about the mess.”

“I have tissues. And there might be a plastic bag in the passenger door. Will you look?”

“Sure.” When she had her pants back on, she bent forward into the front seat and came back with the bag and tissues. “Here you go. Wow, I'm like really hot now.” She laughed as she shrugged out of her coat.

He stripped off the condom and disposed of it before cleaning up. “This is by far the most clothing I've ever worn while having sex.”

She laughed again. “The same goes for me.” She pulled her boot on as he refastened his jeans.

“This car is always going to remind me of you,” he said. She turned to look at him. “I'm glad.”

“Me, too.” She climbed into the front seat and buckled up. “Ready whenever you are.”

He was too tall to do what she'd done, so he opened the door and got out. The winter breeze slammed into him, but he was still warm enough from her body or maybe blissed out enough from the orgasm that he barely noticed.

Dating, huh? He smiled to himself as he opened the driver door and for the first time ever thought about the potential for a relationship that extended past tomorrow.

A
LAINA STEPPED INTO
the Archers' main house to grab breakfast the following morning. She had stuff at the apartment, but Evan wasn't at the apartment. How could she run into him unless she went to the house?

The scent of brewed coffee and something else, cinnamon and nutmeg, filled her nostrils. She inhaled deeply and smiled nostalgically. The smell reminded her of the cinnamon rolls Crystal's mom used to make from scratch.

She moved into the kitchen and saw Emily and Rob Archer sitting at the table together. Both were reading on their iPads but looked up as Alaina walked in.

Emily smiled welcomingly as she pulled her reading glasses off and set them on the table. “Good morning, Alaina! Did you finally come for breakfast?”

“Yes, thank you. It smells delicious in here.” She looked at what they were eating—oatmeal with a side of fruit. The cinnamon and nutmeg smell had to be the oatmeal.

Emily scooted back her chair. “Let me get you a bowl.”

Alaina waved her back down. “No, please sit. I can manage.” She turned back to the counter and spotted a Crock-Pot next to the stove. “You made this last night?” she asked.

“Emily has a thing for Crock-Pot oatmeal,” Rob said. “And I have to admit waking up to a hot meal that's ready to eat is pretty nice.”

Alaina glanced over at them and saw the smiles shared between them. Loving parents, what an utterly foreign concept. She turned to grab a bowl from the cupboard before the pang of longing doubled her over. What she wouldn't have given to have that growing up.

Was she dooming her not-yet-conceived child to the same disappointment? Growing up with only one parent? Granted, Alaina would be the polar opposite of her mother, but her life wasn't exactly the white picket-fence variety.

She pushed the thought away and went about dishing up her oatmeal, which had chunks of apple in it. She could hardly wait to eat it.

“There are raisins and pecans over there if you want to add those,” Emily said.

Alaina skipped the raisins but added pecans, then grabbed a spoon before heading to the table. “Oops, forgot coffee.”

Emily gestured toward a teapot on the table. “There's also tea, if you prefer. It's Earl Grey. I'm not much of a coffee drinker.”

Alaina liked both, but tea sounded good with the oatmeal. “Thank you, I'll have tea.” She went back to the cupboards and found a mug, then came back and sat across from Emily. Rob was at the end of the table on Alaina's right.

Rob set his reading glasses down and picked up his coffee mug. “I hear you had dinner at the pub last night.”

“I did.” Alaina poured her tea and added a bit of sugar from a small bowl. “It was fantastic. And it's such a cute place—I loved the mural on the wall.”

“My uncle painted it, but I'm guessing maybe you heard that.” His lips curved up, and the flesh around his gray eyes crinkled. She realized Evan had his father's eyes. He also had his father's hair—thick with a bit of a wave—though Rob's had gone almost completely gray. A few dark strands here and there matched his son's color. “I also heard you visited the old homestead. What did you think?”

“It's incredible. I love history. My maternal grandfather used to take me to Civil War battlefields when I was little.” Poppy had died when she was just six, but she remembered those treks. “I think he's the reason I'm so interested in the past.” Visiting those sites and making believe she lived in another time was a great way to take herself out of the present, which had pretty much been Alaina's favorite thing to do. It was no wonder she was an actress; she'd spent her entire young life pretending.

“Did anyone tell you we're thinking of turning it into a museum?”

“Really? That would be so great.” Judging her oatmeal finally cool enough to sample, Alaina spooned a small taste. The resulting sensory orgasm nearly made her moan. “Oh my goodness, this is
amazing
. Please tell me you can share the recipe, that it's not some secret family concoction.”

Emily chuckled. “I found it on Pinterest. I'm happy to send it to you.”

“Thank you.” Alaina took a more substantial bite. “Tell me more about this museum.”

“It's just something that's been in the back of our minds for a long time,” Rob said. “My folks were interested in doing it, but after my dad died, my mom sort of lost interest. Alex took up the idea for a while, but then he dropped it, too.” Rob's eyes clouded, and he looked down at his empty bowl.

Emily clasped his hand on the table. She looked over at Alaina. “Chloe has said she'd like to take on the project, but she's getting awfully busy with doing art for The Alex. We'll see what happens.”

Alaina bit her tongue before she offered to help. Or worse, offered to buy it. She could actually see herself living there. “I love the idea of capturing a piece of the area's history. You'll have to keep me posted—since we're exchanging e-mails so you can send me this recipe.”

Emily grinned. “Fair enough.”

Rob let go of Emily's hand and stood up, gathering his dishes. “I need to get to the office for a meeting. Turns out the enigmatic Eric Steele is coming to the office in person.”

Emily looked at him in surprise. “Oh? I thought he wasn't able to do that. Doesn't he have agoraphobia?”

Rob nodded. “He said he was on medication and wanted to give it a try—he just sent an e-mail this morning. I'm thrilled to have the chance to talk to him face-to-face so I can tell him what a fantastic job he's doing. I never thought we'd find someone to replace Alex, but Eric's a perfect fit.”

Alaina smiled into her oatmeal and tried not to let it show. She was so happy for Evan's success and even happier that he planned to tell his family the truth. She wished she could be a fly on the wall for the meeting.

Rob leaned down to kiss his wife's cheek and whisper something in her ear. Emily smiled softly, and again Alaina was struck by the incredible sweetness and
normalcy
of the moment. He looked at Alaina as he straightened and picked up his iPad from the table. “Nice to chat with you this morning. Have a good day.”

“Bye, and thanks again for your hospitality. Although, you might regret it, since I've pretty much fallen in love with Ribbon Ridge. You might be stuck with me.”

Rob chuckled as he set his dishes in the sink. “I don't think anyone would mind. See you later.”

After Rob left, Emily folded the cover over her iPad and set the device aside. “Are you considering moving here? Don't you have to live in LA because of your job?”

“I have to keep a place down there, but I do a lot of filming all over the place. I have several residences. I'm also trying not to work as much. There's more to life than work.”

“That's nice to hear.”

Alaina laughed. “Don't give me too much credit. Now that I've passed the thirty-year mark, the roles I'm offered have started to change a bit.”

Emily's jaw dropped. “Really? That's absurd. Besides, you don't look thirty at all. How old are you?”

“I turned thirty last year. Thank you for the compliment. I work hard to stay out of the sun and take good care of my skin. You won't see me under a plastic surgeon's knife.” She shuddered, thinking of the botched procedures on some of her colleagues.

“Another smart choice. You seem incredibly grounded for someone so famous. Ribbon Ridge would be lucky to have you.”

“Thank you.” Alaina took a few bites of oatmeal as she pondered how to broach a subject she dearly wanted to discuss with Emily. And now seemed the best possible time, since they were alone. She swallowed and set her spoon down. “I wondered if I might ask you about your experience having the sextuplets.”

Emily pushed her empty bowl to the side. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

“I'm, uh, thinking of playing a woman dealing with infertility, so anything you feel comfortable sharing would be helpful.”