“You’re prettier than you were in high school, too.”
“And?”
“And...”
“I didn’t look perfect in high school?”
“You wore a chain wallet.”
“So there was a lot of room for improvement.”
“You improved. You definitely improved.” She leaned forward and kissed him back.
He deepened the kiss subtly and gently, but she felt the change. The first kiss had been tentative and sweet, the second kiss playful and now this third kiss...this third kiss was something else entirely.
Ben didn’t have a beard. No facial hair at all. And she was pretty sure she’d never kissed a guy with a real beard, not just a five-o’clock shadow. Very quickly she decided she liked it. The hair tickled her top lip and her chin while he softly kissed her lips, and when the tickling grew to be too much, she opened her mouth to him and he slipped his tongue between her teeth.
This was now officially a real kiss. A really real kiss. A kiss that was going places. She cupped his face, lightly stroking his chin and cheeks with her thumbs as she deepened the kiss. Chris made a soft sound in the back of his throat, a distinct sound, pure pleasure. She wanted to hear it again.
And again...
Joey couldn’t believe she was doing this, kissing Chris. Not because it was Chris so much as it wasn’t Ben. Kira told her the quickest way to get over one guy was to get under another, but that was Kira’s thing, not hers. Joey never even dated in high school and had one boyfriend in college. She’d never had a one-night stand, never took risks like this, making out—and maybe more—with someone who’d been a virtual stranger all of two hours ago.
Except he wasn’t a virtual stranger even if they hadn’t seen each other in years. This was Chris Steffensen. He’d driven her and Dillon to school for two straight years of high school. He’d taught her how to shoot a bow and arrow one summer at the lake. He’d walked on her brother’s left side while she’d walked on his right between classes Dillon’s senior year when the bullying was at its absolute worst and she had actual nightmares her brother would be the next Matthew Shepard. But Dillon had made it through that awful time and gone off to college in New York. Meanwhile Chris had gone to work and she hadn’t given him much thought since then.
“I wish we hadn’t lost touch after school,” she said against his lips.
“Losing touch isn’t that bad as long as you, I don’t know, start finding touch again.”
She smiled into his lips and touched his face once more. “I think I found it.”
With the bar in the way they couldn’t do anything but kiss. So they had a couple choices—just keep kissing or find somewhere more comfortable.
“You want to go somewhere more comfortable?” Chris asked.
“You read my mind.”
Chris pulled away from the kiss and crooked his finger at her.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I was thinking the couch. It’s a new couch. It needs christening with a good make-out session.”
“Or,” she said.
“Or?”
Joey would blame Kira for this tomorrow. Tonight she had no one to blame but herself.
“The bed’s new. Why don’t we go christen it?”
Chris looked at her a moment. “You sure?”
“We can fool around.” She almost said “bang” and that was definitely Kira’s fault. “Or we can rent Batman Begins. But for either of those things, I’m sure it’s more comfortable than the couch. We’ll see where it goes, all right?”
“All right. Lead the way, then.”
She was shaking with nervousness and excitement as she headed up the stairs. They really were very nice stairs.
“You do such good work,” she said.
“I hope you’re still saying that an hour from now.”
“I was talking about the woodwork.”
“That’s one name for it.”
“Chris.”
He pushed her gently back against the wall and kissed her deeply again, not too hard but hard enough she wanted more. A strategic kisser, Chris was—he knew how to make her want more.
And more.
And more...
“You gave me my first kiss,” she said.
“You remember?”
She nodded breathlessly. “I’d almost forgotten. It was here at the cabin.”
“Out back,” he corrected. “We had a campfire.”
“Mom and Dad went out to dinner and left the three of us here.”
“We got in the liquor cabinet and had a couple shots,” he said. “That was a bad idea.”
“What? Making s’mores while drunk was the most fun I’d ever had.”
“You got chocolate all over your lips,” he said. “You told me to help you get it off.”
“Where was Dillon?”
“He’d wandered off to piss in the woods.”
“Oh, that’s right. He got lost and it took him an hour to get back.”
The memory was hazy. She’d been fourteen, Chris sixteen, Dillon seventeen, if she remembered correctly. Chris had his hair pulled back in a blond ponytail, and he wore board shorts instead of his usual ratty jeans. That night he’d looked almost handsome and she’d been a raging ball of vibrating estrogen capable of orgasming from a hard sneeze and able to fall in and out of love with total strangers all in the span of one day or less. The Jack Daniel’s they’d all dipped into had made her head fuzzy and Chris ten times more talkative than usual. He’d told her dirty stories like the one about the three guys who had to share one bed up at Timber Ridge Lodge, and the guy on the right of the bed wakes up the next day and says, “I had a dream somebody gave me a hand job,” and the guy on the left of the bed says, “Crazy, I also had a dream somebody gave me a hand job,” and the guy in the middle of the bed said, “Weird. I had a dream I was skiing.”
That was what it was. He’d told her the skiing/hand job joke and she’d snort-laughed chocolate from her s’more all over her mouth. And she’d told him he had to help her get it off since it was all his fault that she’d laughed while eating and made a massive mess of herself. She’d expected a napkin, a towel, a leaf, something to clean herself off.
Instead, he’d kissed her. Not a kiss, a lick. He licked her lips, and quickly it turned into a real kiss, her first kiss. Before anything else could happen, they heard Dillon tramping back to camp. She’d hated her brother right then and right there. Why couldn’t it have been number two instead of number one, Dillon? Until that moment in her young life, she had no idea having a male tongue on and in her mouth could be the single greatest sensation of all the sensations she’d ever sensated. He’d tasted better than a s’more, and if that wasn’t the highest compliment a fourteen-year-old girl could give a guy, she didn’t know what was.
“I still think about you when I eat s’mores,” he said. “Is that weird?”
“I still think about you every time a Nirvana song comes on the radio.”
“That’s the sexiest thing any woman has every said to me.”
He kissed her again before she could laugh and then she didn’t want to laugh anymore. All she wanted was to kiss and kiss and kiss some more. He was a wonderful kisser and she was quickly getting used to the soft tickle of his beard on her lips and chin and cheeks. And a small evil part of her was relishing the knowledge, even reveling in it, maybe also wallowing in it, that Ben would blow a brain gasket if he knew what she was doing right now. He’d always had a jealous streak, which she’d found flattering at first and increasingly irritating over the past few months. It had seemed out of place, uncalled for. She’d never given him a reason to be jealous. Now she knew he’d been projecting, covering up for his own guilty conscience. Well, fuck him. He had no say in what she did anymore.
She pulled back from the kiss only to open the bedroom door. Chris flipped the lights on but only long enough to turn on the lamp and then the overhead lights were off again. There was a definite chill in the air so she sat on the edge of the bed patiently while Chris threw a few logs in the woodstove and started a fire. It was a pleasure to watch him work. He had quick and efficient large hands that moved with surety at every task. Door open, logs in, newspapers in, more logs, match lit and then...fire. Warmth infused the room, which might have had something to do with the fire in the stove and might have had something to do with Chris taking his shirt off. Not the T-shirt, not yet. Just the flannel he wore over it, but the sight of his strong bare arms was enough to raise her temperature a degree or two especially since he was taking it off while walking toward the bed.
“You’re not supposed to be this sexy,” she said as he came to stand in front of her.
“Sorry?”
She put her hands on his hips, slid them under his white T-shirt and felt his hard flat stomach.
“I accept your apology.”
“I’ll never do it again.”
“See that you don’t.”
“Do you want to take your shirt off?”
“That’s not fair. I only have a bra on under my shirt. You had a T-shirt on under yours.”
Chris sighed, a put-upon sigh. Then he took his T-shirt off.
“Better?”
She stared at his chest, at his bare shoulders and stomach. This was a man who worked very hard and his body showed it.
“Much, much better.”
Chris reached down and gathered the fabric of her sweater in his hands. She raised her arms and let him pull it off. It joined his flannel and T-shirt on the floor. She really hadn’t planned on seducing Chris or being seduced by him tonight, but apparently her subconscious had known better because she’d chosen her favorite plum-colored lace bra to wear under her sweater. Did she remember to put on the matching panties? Oh, yes, she had. Chris would probably assume she’d planned this when he saw them. She hadn’t, but she didn’t care if he thought that.
He bent and kissed her again. Inch by inch, he eased her onto her back with kisses as he crawled onto the bed, his knees on each side of her hips, his arms bracing himself over her. She might be on her back but she refused to lie there passively while he kissed her lips and neck and chest. With her right hand she cupped the back of his neck. With her left hand she went exploring. He was lean, almost thin despite the presence of some impressive muscles, and when she ran her hand down his back, she could feel the outline of his shoulder blades under his warm skin. She lingered a long time on his back, loving the width of it, the length, the strength. And she couldn’t think clearly enough to do much else at the moment as Chris was nuzzling her neck with his mouth, and his beard tickled the tender skin under her ear.
“You feel amazing,” he whispered. “And you smell amazing.”
“What do I smell like?”
“Like you did in high school. Like cookies.”
She laughed as he nipped at her neck. “It’s in my perfume. It’s vanilla-scented. In high school I just used vanilla extract. I couldn’t afford perfume.”
“You smell good enough to eat. You always did.”
“I’m not going to say it. You’re not going to make me say it.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with his grin.
“Say it. You know you want to.”
“Eat me, then,” she said.
“If you behave yourself.”
Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrow at him. She didn’t even know she could do that.
“If I behave? How am I supposed to behave?”
Chris kissed his way to her ear and whispered into it one word: “Badly.”
Joey shivered from his hot breath on her cool flesh.
He lowered himself onto her carefully, his hips flush against hers, his bare chest to her chest. So much warm skin, so much body heat, so much male weight on top of her... When she’d been weeping on Kira’s couch, one of her laments had been how much she’d miss having sex. She loved sex, needed it, wanted it when she could get it, wanted it more when she couldn’t. How long would it be before she recovered from this breakup and started dating again, started having sex again? Well...a couple days apparently. She would have laughed except she had Chris’s tongue between her teeth, and she wasn’t keen on letting it go just yet.
Joey ran her hands up Chris’s arms and rubbed his shoulders and biceps, massaging them as they kissed because she quickly discovered that when she did this, Chris made the loveliest soft moaning sound in the back of his throat and he pushed his hips into hers hard enough she could feel the outline of his erection. Those were all wonderful consequences to a wonderful action.
Chris placed his left hand by her hand and held himself up over her long enough to slide her bra straps down her shoulders. He kissed her neck and arms and chest to tease her and it worked. Oh, how it worked. She was ready to beg him to take her bra all the way off when he upped the teasing ante by cupping her right breast in his hand and lightly squeezing it. Even through the silk fabric she could feel his heat and the gentle pressure. She arched into his hand, wanting more. He brought his mouth down and kissed her nipple through her bra. It puckered and hardened, and the sound she made as he licked her through the silk should have embarrassed her, it was so hungry. But she’d given herself permission to be decadent tonight, to indulge in something she usually didn’t do—have a one-night stand with an old friend just to make herself feel better. Chris knew this was all it was, so why not? Why not make herself feel good and him feel good and forget Ben existed, at least for tonight?
“You’re good at teasing me,” she said.
“Am I?” He nuzzled against the valley of her breasts.
“You’re going very slow.”
“I like to go slow. If I go fast, then it’s over with too soon.”
“Or you could go fast—twice.”
“You’re behaving very badly right now.”
“You told me to.”
“I know.” He raised his head and grinned at her, a grin to set her body temperature shooting up another degree or two. “It was a compliment.”
He rewarded her for her bad behavior by pushing the cup of her bra down. The cool air of the room on her naked breast sent her shivering with delicious chills. Chris lightly licked the hard tan tip that was turning a darker shade of brown as he gave it more and more attention and more and more blood rushed to her breasts. She tangled her hand in his hair and held his mouth to her nipple. He covered it with his lips and sucked softly and then deeply and then hard enough to make her gasp aloud.
Chris kissed her mouth after she moaned and took her breast in his hand. He pinched her nipple and tugged lightly on it, rolling it between his fingers as he kissed her until she could scarcely breathe and forgot she needed to.
“Remind me to do something after you’re done fucking me,” she whispered.
“What is that?”
“I need to call Kira and tell her she’s a genius.”
4
HE LOWERED HIS head again and gave her left breast the same sort of attention, lavishing kisses on it, sucking the nipple, rolling his tongue around it as she lifted her hips again and again against him, unable to stop herself. Her arousal was potent, sharp in its intensity. She felt everything he did to her all over her body. It was nervousness, of course, and the adrenaline rush that came with a brand-new partner after being with only one man in two years. Also, it felt like she was breaking a rule, cheating, cheating on Ben even though she wasn’t. They hadn’t said they’d broken up, but there was no reason to say a single word to him the second she discovered he was married. Their relationship was null and void in her mind because he’d lied to her, lied to his wife. But if she knew Ben as well as she thought she did, he would apologize, try to get her back. He still considered her his girlfriend, and if he knew she was with another man, he would lose his mind. She almost wanted to call him right now and tell him what she was doing.
And laugh.
“More,” she whispered as Chris lightly bit her nipple.
“More what?”
“More of you,” she said, sliding her palms down his body from his neck to the small of his back where she lingered awhile. His skin was so soft here, so touchable, so smooth. “More of this.” She lifted her pelvis meaningfully into his.