She jerks it from my hand and tosses it into a drawer. She slams it shut with her hip. I want to lift her shirt and pull her waistband out so I can see the top edge of her panties, but that would be rude, considering she hasn’t invited me to do it, and my ceiling is about to fall in.
I scrub a hand down my face. Now I know she’s not wearing a bra. Fuck me. The doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it,” she says.
A man wearing a one-piece jumpsuit comes into the room, and the building’s night manager is following him. She’s holding a clipboard and she stops in the doorway, her gaze raking down my body.
Crap. I figured maintenance would come and would be a man. That’s what I get for having a gender bias, I guess. The manager’s eyes look all over my chest, taking in my tattoos and piercings. I want to cross my arms and block the view, she’s being so crass. I hear Peck blow out a breath and she turns and leaves the room.
“I don’t know what happened,” I start to explain.
The maintenance man is already leaving, though, and he darts out the front door. A few minutes later, I hear pounding on the level above us, and the trickle slows to a drip.
Peck comes back into the room and pushes one of my shirts into my hand. I smile at her and tug it over my head. I should probably go and get some pants, and if it wasn’t the middle of the night, I would have already done that.
Stomping feet come back down the hallway. The maintenance guy appears. “The people upstairs have a broken pipe,” he says. “I turned the water off, and I’ll get a crew in to clean up the water tomorrow. We can fix the ceiling, but not for a few days.”
The lady is taking notes, and she hands me a work order to sign. I look down at it. I already took my contacts out, so I can’t read it. “Can you look at that and sign it for me?” I ask Peck.
She narrows her eyes at me in question, but takes it and reads it really quickly.
“I hope this doesn’t inconvenience you too much,” the manager says. She smiles at me. It’s full of invitation.
“We’ll make do,” I say. And then I realize that I don’t have anywhere else for Peck to sleep. Fuck.
Peck signs my name on the paper and hands it back to the woman. She passes me her business card, and she has written a personal note on it. Peck intercepts it, reads it, and rips it into two pieces. Then she lays a hand on my arm, and I can feel her index finger as it begins to tap.
“Thanks,” she says. “But we’re all threesome’d out, after the blonde last week.” She looks at me and raises her brow. “Right, dear?”
The workman snickers into his fist, but he covers it when the manager glowers at him.
Peck presses the torn pieces of paper into the woman’s hand. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
The woman leaves in a huff, slamming the front door behind her. The man high-fives me, laughs out loud, and then he walks out, too. “See you tomorrow, dude,” he calls back over his shoulder as the door closes.
“What a mess,” I say, looking around.
“I’ll c-call for a c-car,” Peck says. She reaches for her bag.
“What? Why?” I grab the bag and put it behind my back, hanging it from my index finger. “You can’t leave.” I haven’t even had her here for one night.
She motions to the bed. “My b-bed is now a p-pool.”
If I could think of one way to get a woman wet in bed, it wouldn’t be from a leak in the ceiling. I jerk a thumb toward my room. “I have a king bed in my room.” I grin at her. “We can share.” But inside, my stomach is clenching in terror, because I know she’s not ready to have sex with me. Not even close.
She puts her hands on her hips. “I am not s-sleeping with you.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” Just don’t go. Stay.
She looks down at my leg. “I am not p-putting you on the c-couch with a b-bad leg.”
“Well, I’m not putting you on the couch. You’re my guest.”
“I can just go home—”
“Your birth mother will be there.”
She takes a deep breath. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“I won’t try to fuck you,” I rush to say. “We can sleep in the same bed without…doing…anything else.”
She smiles, but her cheeks are warming. I kind of like that. “W-w-w—” The word won’t come out, and I feel so fucking bad for her when her eyes close. I can almost see the word working around in her mouth. Suddenly her eyes open. “Why?” she says. “Wh-why w-would you d-do that?”
“Honestly?” I ask. I look into her dark eyes. They’re so brown they’re almost black.
“No, y-you should l-lie to me.” She puts her hands on her hips.
“I just got you here,” I say honestly. “I’ve been trying to spend time with you for weeks, and I had a lot of fun with you tonight. I like the way you fit against me when we sit on the couch, and how you laugh at the funny parts of the show I like, and you sometimes laugh at the serious parts. And I like kissing you.” I lift my hand and cup the side of her face. She doesn’t flinch away. She turns her face into my hand. I touch her bottom lip with the pad of my thumb. Her tongue tentatively touches it, and it shoots straight to the center of me. “I want you to stay.”
“D-do you h-have blankets for the c-couch?” she asks.
My heart leaps. She’s not leaving. “Hall closet,” I say. She walks out into the hall and retrieves a blanket and some sheets, and then she goes out into the living room. I go with her, because there’s no fucking way I’m letting her sleep on the couch.
I take the sheet from her and cover the sofa with it. Then I sit down and pat the space beside me. “Wh-what are you d-doing?” she asks.
“Going to sleep.” I fluff a pillow behind me and try to get comfortable.
“Go to b-bed,” she says. She takes my hand and tries to pull me to my feet.
“Nuh-uh,” I mutter. “Paul would kick my ass if I let you sleep on the couch.” Paul is my oldest brother, the one who raised us all, and he wouldn’t like it. There are some things a man just doesn’t do, and letting a girl sleep on the couch is one of them. It’s right up there with cheating and lying. “So…” I say slowly. “If you won’t sleep in my bed, then we both have to sleep out here.” I leave my statement hanging there in the air.
“You suck so bad,” she mutters. She didn’t even stutter. But I try not to let her know I noticed.
“I know,” I agree. “I suck. But I’m a gentleman who sucks.”
“D-do you p-promise to stay on your side of the b-bed?”
“Does that include errors in rolling over? And flinging arms? Am I going to be penalized for bending my knee?”
A grin teases up the corners of her lips. “You still suck.”
“I know.” I pat the couch. “So, what’s it going to be? Here or there?”
“Fine,” she bites out. She hands me my crutches and waits for me to stand up. Then she grabs the blanket and walks toward my bedroom.
In the back of my mind, I think there should be some ominous music playing. Maybe the theme song from Jeopardy. Or a doo-doo-doo-doo Twilight Zone kind of scary thing. Because I have to admit it—I’m a little afraid.
I turn the covers back and she flips the light off. I hear a rustle of her clothing. “Did you just take something off?” I ask the darkness.
“Sam,” she scolds.
I roll onto my side to face her. “What was it?” I whisper.
“Nothing,” she hisses back. But I can hear laughter in her voice and I love it.
“You took your shorts off, didn’t you?” I say quietly.
“Maybe.”
“You did.” I wait a beat. Just long enough for silence to settle around the room. “Do you know what that means?”
“It means you should shut up and go to sleep.” She giggles. God, that’s a pretty sound. She’s quiet for a second. “What does it mean?” she suddenly asks.
“It means your naked thighs are pressed against my sheets.” I groan. I’m tu
rning myself on. Or she’s turning me on.
“Sam,” she warns. But she’s laughing, too. She’s so far away from me that I imagine she’s going to roll right off the bed.
“You’re awfully far away.”
“There’s a reason for that,” she whispers.
“What is it?” I whisper back.
“Because I have this awful feeling that you’re going to break my heart,” she says. No stutter, so she must have found something to tap on. But I kind of would prefer to think she didn’t.
“I don’t plan to hurt you.” God, she might as well have stabbed me in the gut.
“No one plans to hurt anyone else. It just happens. Even to good people. So I’m trying not to let myself like you.”
“You like me?”
“I like you a lot. Too much.”
“You like me,” I sing-song in a playful voice.
“Sam,” she says on a heavy breath.
“What?”
“Don’t hurt me, okay?”
I can hear the quiver in her voice and tension radiates off of her even from across the bed. It’s like a wire pulled taut.
I reach out a hand and feel for her stomach. When I find it, I lift the edge of her shirt and lay my palm on her hip. She squeals when I roll her over and pull her to me. “Sam!” she cries.
I adjust her until her bottom is cradled by my thighs. The scent of her hair tickles my nose, so I brush it out of my face, pushing it down between us. It’s silky smooth and she smells so damn good.
“Um, Sam…”
I nuzzle my face into the nape of her neck and press a kiss to her shoulder. “What?”
“You promised to stay on your side of the bed.”
“I am on my side of the bed.”
She chuckles.
“Go to sleep.”
She wiggles her bottom in my lap, and I have to pull back a little and adjust my junk.
“Um…”
“That’s just my dick. I told you he likes you. He’ll give up in a minute. Go to sleep.”
My head is lying on my bicep and I feel her turn her head ever so slightly and press a kiss against the tender skin of my inner arm. Damn, that feels good.
My hand creeps up a little. This is the first time I’ve touched her naked stomach, and my fingertips are a little greedy. Her hand covers mine and holds it flat against her belly.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
She doesn’t say anything. She just holds my hand there against her skin, wrapped in hers. After a couple of minutes, she goes soft in my arms. I realize in that moment that I am in serious trouble. Like the awful, terrible, no good, very bad kind. Because I think I’m in love with her.
No. I don’t think it. I know it. What I don’t know is whether or not she’s capable of loving me back.
Peck
I wake up the next day and immediately realize that I’m alone. I wipe drool from the side of my mouth and roll over. I can hear the shower running in the adjoining bathroom and I know Sam’s in there. I wonder if he has somewhere to be today.
Sleeping with Sam…it was different from anyone I’ve ever slept with before. Not that I’ve slept with a lot of people. But still. Sam was warm and cuddly and hard and hot and I kept wanting to kiss him in his sleep. I woke up one time to find his hand under my shirt, cupping my naked breast. I was startled, but then I realized he was completely asleep. He held me even when he wasn’t awake. I left his hand there. It was nice and comfortable. And I could pretend he was mine while he was asleep.
I roll over and press my face into his pillow. It smells clean and woodsy like he does. I suppose I can’t lie in his bed all day, so I toss the covers back. I can hear him talking softly to himself over the noise of the shower. I hear my name, so I step closer to the door. That was definitely my name, in a little chant, repeated over and over. His voice is soft and deep, and a little gravelly.
I push the door open ever so slightly and stick my head inside. The shower door is made of glass, and my heart skips a beat when I realize I can see what he’s doing inside. He stands with one hip hitched against the wall, bearing the weight for his bad leg, and one hand pressed hard against the shower wall. His other hand is…busy. Really, really busy.
My heart starts to race, and heat shoots straight to the center of me. I press my legs together to ease some of the ache that has suddenly pressed hard against my clit. It’s thumping like mad, and my nipples are aching pinpoints against my shirt.
All I can see is Sam’s ass cheeks clenched, so I just have to imagine what’s going on with that hand shuttling up and down his dick, and it’s a damn fine picture I have in my head.
I should go away. I should let him have this moment, but I’m trapped like a deer in headlights. Particularly when he says my name a little louder, clenches his ass, and groans. His hand shuttles quickly up and down his length until his buttocks relax and he tips his face up to the shower, but he doesn’t look satisfied. He looks hungry. His head turns and he catches me watching him.
He closes his eyes and takes a breath, then rinses off quickly. The water shuts off, and I scramble back into the bedroom, because I don’t know what to do with myself.
Sam hobbles out on his crutches wearing nothing but a towel cinched around his lean hips. Oh my God, that man is beautifully built. He sits down and uses a second towel to dry his boot, unfastens it to get all the moisture out, then fastens it back.
“You okay?” he asks me.
“Yeah. Why?” I pretend to dig around in my bag.
“I didn’t know you were standing there.” He’s very calm about it.
“I d-didn’t mean to…” I don’t even know how to say I’m sorry for invading his privacy. I sit down on the edge of the bed. He lies back so that his head is next to my hip.
“Next time, you should come and join me.” He looks into my eyes and smiles up at me.
“I…um…” My face must be as red as a tomato. “I shouldn’t have stayed. I was just stuck. Sorry.”
“Stuck like happy stuck? Or stuck like I-fucking-hate-that-this-guy-is-getting-off-to-thoughts-of-me stuck?”
“Stuck like I-can’t-move stuck. That’s all. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
He grins. “I’m not embarrassed.” He bends his elbows and rests his hands behind his neck.
“You’re not?”
“Fuck no,” he says. “I had you in my bed all night long, with my hands all over you. I was so turned on when I woke up I could have driven nails with my dick. If I wanted to be able to walk today, I had to do something.”
“Oh.” The image of him driving anything with his dick has my clit thumping again and I press my legs together to ease some of the ache.
He catches the move, though, and his eyes narrow. “You’re turned on, aren’t you?” He rolls to face me, his head on his balanced palm. His free hand draws a circle on my upper thigh. Then I realize that this position has my wide thighs spread even wider. I pull the sheet over me. “What did you do that for?” he whines. But he’s grinning. His hand slips beneath the covers and tickles up and down my thigh.
His fingers slide between my thighs, and with a gentle press of his palm, he spreads my thighs a little. I close my hand over his when his knuckle grazes my wet panties. And I am one hundred percent sure they’re wet.
He presses his lips against the sheet on my thigh and I can feel the heat of his breath when he says, “I can help you with that.”
I jump. “With what?”
“I could make you come. Make you feel better.”
My traitorous vagina clenches like it wants to scream Yes! But I say, “No, thank you.”
He laughs. “I didn’t offer you a soda. I offered you an orgasm. No strings. We don’t even have to talk about it later. I’ll pretend like it never happened.”
He tosses the covers over his head and inches forward until he’s lying over my lap a little, and his hot breath hits the apex of my thighs. They involuntarily part. Sam adjusts my bo
dy like I’m a rag doll, until I have no choice but to lie back. One leg is off the bed, and the other is bent over his legs. He’s beneath the covers, so I can’t even see him. Or touch him.
“Sam,” I protest.
“Shhh,” he whispers, but I can hear him chuckling. “You’re horny and I want to feel you come. It’s a win-win.” His palms press my thighs wide and he settles in between, wiggling a little as he positions himself. Then a questing finger edges under the side of my panties. “This will just take a second,” he whispers. “Damn, that’s pretty,” he says.
Then his mouth touches me and the angels start to sing and I totally lose any reservations I had about him doing this. Not that I had many, but still.
His tongue is wicked and marvelous and absolutely skilled. And his fingers…they will not be outdone by his tongue. Not a bit. He licks across my center and sucks my clit between his lips, where his teeth, tongue, and lips do crazy things I never dreamed were possible.
His head is still under the damn blanket, and I have this irrational thought that he’s going to suffocate under there, so I grab the edge and toss it to the side. And as soon as I do, I see him. He’s between my thighs, his fingers doing crazy things to my vagina as his lips do wonderfully wicked things to my clit, and his blue eyes meet mine.
I come apart, breaking as I thread my fingers into his hair and hold him close to me, coming harder than I have ever come before, by my hand or anyone else’s. He doesn’t let up as my wits shatter, but his licks, tugs, and pulls grow softer as my orgasm eases. I shiver and quake as he brings me back down. I lie back and close my eyes.
I can’t believe I just let him do that. I all but begged for it. And now I’m embarrassed.
Sam eases the edge of my panties, covering me up softly and tenderly, and then he presses a kiss against the fabric. The heat of his breath sets off an aftershock and my body rocks one last time. God.
Sam crawls up my body, careful not to squish me, until he’s up by my mouth. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
My face fills with heat.