— TWELVE —
THE house was suddenly very, very quiet.
Faith stood in the doorway, watching Zander dry the last two plates and listening to her mother climb the stairs at the same time. At the top of the landing there was a door to the granny flat above the garage, where Miriam had made her own space. Faith tipped her gaze up, staring at the ceiling as she heard the door open, then some rustling around. Miriam went into the main bathroom between Eric’s room and the spare room and got the baby monitor Faith had left on the counter.
Her mother knew her so well, for better or worse. Miriam knew that Faith needed someone else to keep an ear out for Eric…and that she wanted to be alone with Zander.
From the way he was blushing, he knew all of that too.
And the house was too damn quiet to share that knowledge in any other way than with equally embarrassed looks.
She crossed through the kitchen to the living room and turned on the stereo, which they kept tuned to public radio, and on a Friday night, that meant a weekly lecture series. Someone was talking about the meaning of “self” and individuality.
An excellent question for the end of a week where Zander had made her reconsider every notion she had about herself. He’d stormed into her life and given her ideas and fears and hopes and desires, and now they had one more night, a bonus chance to say goodbye properly.
He was done with the dishes, and he met her in the middle of the room. She looped her fingers through his. She couldn’t imagine a more unexpectedly natural feeling in the world than holding his hand, ready to lead him away from this domestic scene to something more private.
She’d been a mother for so long, and only a mother, that she’d thought this selfishness would be harder.
From the second he’d been born, her son had owned her heart, and raising him—getting to see him grow and learn—it was a gift. It didn’t feel hard fought at all, and she knew she was lucky for that. But the few times she’d tried to take something like this for herself, it had felt wrong.
This ease with Zander shook her to her core because this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Not with him. Not to her.
She wasn’t this lucky.
She led him down the hallway to the small craft room tucked in behind the living room—the furthest point in the house from her mother’s room, safely tucked around the corner from the living room. It had a long, comfortable couch…and the door locked.
She whispered for him to pull it closed behind him while she moved further into the room to find the lamp.
The click of the latch was like a starter’s pistol—both in imagined volume and in a metaphorical start to this most private part of what had been an unexpectedly lovely evening already. He’d closed the door before she got the light turned on, and then he was behind her, his arms around her waist and his mouth on the back of her neck. Her fingers slipped off the plastic knob and she fumbled for it again, then gave up, turning in his arms.
The moonlight streaming in the window was enough for now.
They tumbled together onto the couch, touching in a quiet, reverential moment of reconnection.
He captured her face between his hands and kissed her softly at first, then more insistently. She started to climb into his lap and he dropped his hands to her hips, stilling her movement. “Your mom? Eric?”
“Mom took the monitor for Eric’s room into her apartment, which is on the other side of the house. We probably shouldn’t get naked, but we won’t be interrupted unless the house is on fire.”
“I’m resourceful. There’s a lot we can do without getting naked.”
The first thing he did was ruck her skirt up to her waist. Under her dress she was wearing black boy short panties, and he slid his hands under the stretchy cotton, cupping her bottom.
Then he surprised the hell out of her by continuing to make conversation. “Hey, so…I’m back next month for my sister’s wedding.”
“Yeah?” She beamed at him and kissed the corner of his mouth. A bonus visit, maybe?
“And I want to ask you to be my date.”
Wow. “Okay. You should do that.”
“Ask you?”
“Yes.”
“I will.”
She laughed. “When?”
“When I get up the nerve.” He squeezed her butt cheeks, and she wondered how he could doubt she’d be all over that.
She rolled her hips, finding him hard and ready. Big Zander might be nervous, but Little Zander had no doubt of her interest, and the feeling was obviously mutual. “Zander, I’m going to say yes.”
“People will see us together,” he said, completely seriously.
She cackled and nipped at his jaw. “Babe, I think that ship has sailed.”
“My mother will be there.”
“So? You met my mother tonight.”
“There’s no comparison.”
“I can handle it.”
“Then will you be my date next month? Wear something pretty and dance with me under the stars?”
She hummed against the warm, tasty skin of his neck. Poor guy had walked right into this and she was feeling playful. “Gosh, I don’t know…”
He flipped her onto her back and covered her with his body, his mouth hot and demanding as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. Oh, was he going to punish her for being lippy? Because she was pretty sure she’d enjoy that.
“You’re a minx,” he growled, reaching for her hands and pinning them above her head on the couch seat. “I love this couch, by the way. It’s nice and long. Perfect to stretch out on and take my time in working you up.”
“And then getting me off, I hope?”
“Greedy much?” He shifted his weight, holding her wrists with one of his hands while he used the other to push her dress even higher. He groaned when he found she’d ditched the bra when she got changed. “Oh, fuck, Faith.”
She breathed a heady, aroused sigh as he circled his palm ever so lightly over her right nipple, pulling it into a tight, aching point as if by magic.
“Wait.” He pinched that peak and jerked his hand out from under her dress. “Wedding date? Yes?”
“Yes!” She hissed it to keep from yelling at him. “Please don’t stop.”
His teeth flashed white in the darkness. “I love how sensitive your breasts are, because I think they’re fucking gorgeous and could happily feast on them for hours.”
Yes, yes, yes. “Less talking, more touching.” She closed her eyes. “Please?”
He chuckled, resuming his attention. Right. Left. Right. Between her legs, she was growing so wet she could feel it. She tugged her arms out of his loose grasp and reached for his belt. Even before she got his jeans unzipped, she was palming his erection, tracing the length and glorious width of him with her other hand. And then she had his hot flesh circled with all her fingers, and he was clumsily reaching around her to tug her underwear off.
They didn’t need to talk about it.
He slid inside her, both of them still fully dressed, his belt rubbing against the back of her thigh as she hitched her leg around his hip, pulling him closer.
Her breath caught as he stretched her wide, filling her up and shoving all her thoughts right out of her head.
That ache. It was beautiful and perfect and not enough, never enough, because she wanted more. He pulled out, all but the tip, and that delicious rub of his cock at her entrance again made her gasp. Now she was stretched and more open for him than before, and when he thrust deep, it went all the way to her cervix.
Again he was bare inside her.
She clenched around him, wanting to hold on tight to this moment of being one.
And all of a sudden it was too much.
“Wait,” she gasped, rolling her hips, releasing him from her body.
He lifted up, and she was glad for the darkness. She didn’t want to see the look of confusion on his face. She turned, kissing his arm as she settled on all fours. Zander hesitated for a second, then slid her dress up her hips, baring her from behind.
She felt his fingers first. He found her still wet, still ready, because she wanted this…she just needed it to be sexy fun times with a friend.
She squeezed her eyes shut. What a joke. She was falling so hard, so fast, when she hit the ground she was going to shatter into a million pieces.
But she didn’t want it to be tonight. Or next month.
“What’s going on?” He tugged her dress down a bit and kissed her shoulder, his breath warm and steady there. His fingers still worked between her legs, keeping her warm there, too. Not steady, though. She wasn’t steady in the least.
So she didn’t answer, because what would she say? He was perfect and she wasn’t…
She bit her lip so hard she was pretty sure she’d just made herself bleed.
Thankful again for the darkness, she arched her back, sliding her wet slit messily against his hand. “Fuck me, Zander.”
“That’s what you want?”
“Yes.” Her heart slammed against her ribs. She wanted lots of things.
He probably didn’t have any clue how he looked at Eric. Looked at her. How loving and gentle and ready he was.
She didn’t deserve him. But she still wanted every amazing part, anyway. She was totally greedy for him, and not just the sex.
But right now, yes, she wanted sex. Just sex. No more feelings. She wanted him to obliterate all these thoughts and fears, and fill her with all the pleasure she knew they could make together.
She opened her mouth to tell him again what she wanted, and that’s when he practically lifted her off the couch by the hips and slammed home, his cock filling her to the point of ache, exactly as she’d demanded.
He was fucking her. Hard.
He set a blistering pace, all the nerve endings inside firing as he pistoned his hips. She stretched like a cat, rubbing her heavy, swollen breasts against the couch at the same time as she shamelessly presented more of her sex to him.
Filthy words flooded her mind. Things she wanted him to do to her. Things she wanted to do to him. Together. Apart, while the other watched. She swallowed a moan as his grip on her hips tightened, as he held himself deep inside her for a second, his thrusts getting more erratic.
He was fighting for control, too.
Good, she didn’t want to be alone in her insanity. She snaked a hand between her legs, meaning to touch herself and get herself closer to release, but then her fingers touched his balls and he gasped.
Oh, yes. Cupping her hand around his sac, she squeezed, contorting herself into a pretzel so she could drive him crazy and grind against her own arm at the same time, and generally be a filthy, dirty, sex-happy slut for him, and herself.
“Yes…” Zander breathed roughly, like he was fighting for control. Now that she had a hold of him, he couldn’t move very far, but he snapped his hips, rocking the head of his cock over some magical button deep inside her.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out as the swirling sensations came closer. Tighter. They wrapped right around her, so intense the edges of her vision started to dim.
“Come for me, babe. Come around my cock. Do it. Doit doit doit…Aaargh…” He lost control as she started spasming around him, and he fell over her, pushing her to the couch.
His mouth found her neck, then her ear, and he whispered things that made her blush as he held himself deep inside her.
She was going to have to get this couch steam cleaned, and until that could happen—at the earliest possible moment—she’d have to lock this room.
Totally, completely worth it.
But oh jeez, he was dirty.
And so was she, apparently.
She pushed her face into the couch cushion and grinned secretly to herself.
— —
Shit. Zander had just… no, he didn’t want to name what he’d just done to Faith. He’d practically reamed her in a back room of her house while her mother and son slept upstairs. And even worse, she’d gotten scared of the intimacy, and he’d ignored that because having her on all fours had made him so hard he couldn’t think straight.
He was an asshole.
He couldn’t risk going in search of a washcloth, so he pulled off his t-shirt.
“What are you doing?” Faith asked dozily, rolling onto her side as he tried to shift her legs.
“Cleaning you up.”
She laughed. “Can you grab the light? I’ve got baby wipes stashed in like every room of the house, but especially in here, because of paint and glitter glue.”
Nothing quite took the heat out of a post-coital moment like talk of glitter glue. He stood and found the lamp. Squinting against the sudden brightness, he kept his back to Faith for a moment, needing to compose himself. But before he could figure out what he was thinking, what he wanted to say, she sighed and stood up, following him across the small room. The crinkle of plastic accompanied her slide against his back, and she wrapped her arms around him, an open baby wipes container in her left hand.
“Here you go,” she whispered, pressing her lips against his spine.
“Do you—”
“I got one.”
He nodded.
“I’m glad you’re here tonight,” she said softly. “So, so glad. It’s kind of crazy, though, right?”
Did she mean falling in love after a week? It hardly felt like the most dangerous thing he’d done in his life. Driving around a poorly mapped mine field took that prize, and he’d fucking survived that. “I’ve done crazier things.”
“Come back to the couch.” Her arms slipped away, and he cursed himself for not holding on to her.
He tucked himself away and zipped up his jeans.
When he turned around, Faith had curled up on the couch. She was looking at him with a surprisingly open, happy look on her face.
Maybe he hadn’t gone too far.
“You okay?” she asked, holding out a hand. He took it and sat beside her, tugging her into his side. Her back fit right there, perfectly, like his chest had been carved just to hold her against him. Of course, he was supposed to be comforting her, not the other way round.
“Of course.” He buried his face in her hair, breathing her scent deep into his lungs before slowly exhaling. He wrapped his arm around her waist, like just holding her might ebb some of the tension away. It didn’t work. So he went for honest confession instead. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“What are you talking about?” She tried to turn, but he banded his arm tighter around her waist. Emotional dumps weren’t his strong suit. He didn’t need to get lost in her eyes at the same time.
“That was rough.”
“That was hot,” she said softly, and damn if that didn’t make his balls throb. It had been hot as hell—when he wasn’t thinking too much about it. “If or when you hurt me, I promise it’s not going to be because you held me down and made me come so hard I almost blacked out.”
“If or when? What does that mean?”
A long pause flooded between them, ratcheting up his pulse before she answered. He could feel her nibbling on her lower lip. “Well…you know…”
“I don’t. And since I’m heading back to work tomorrow, don’t you think we should clear this up now?”
“No?” She twisted again, and this time he let her because he wasn’t going to hold her against her will. She didn’t go far, though, just spun around and planted her hands gently on his chest, pushing him back against the arm of the couch. Then she wiggled into the space between his body and the back of the couch. Instantly, his panic eased.
She worked her fingers slowly down his chest in a lazy walking-man pattern. “Maybe let’s back up to talking about how hot it was. I might be out of practice, but I think when I turned around and said—”
“Minx,” he whispered, and she laughed.
“You don’t want me to say it again?”
“Didn’t we learn last night that I’m an insatiable ogre when it comes to you? Yes, I want you to say it again, and then I’ll flip you over and do it. Hard.” He tried like hell to ignore her shiver. He couldn’t.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I wanted tonight to be—” Fuck, he was going to lose his bad-ass infantry soldier status if he admitted this. “Special.”
The giggle-snort in response was not reassuring.
“I can bench my body weight.”
“Wow,” she gasped, wiping at her eyes as laughter still wracked her body. “That’s a terrible attempt to change the subject.”
“I’m saying I’m strong.”
“And kind, and brave, and responsible. And…a giant girl when it comes to negotiating a friends-with-benefits thing.”
“That’s not what this is, and you know it.”
“Okay, that was the wrong phrase, but it’s not like this is…”
“What?” He sat up, pulling her with him. “This isn’t real? Because it’s pretty fucking real for me, Faith.”
Her mouth dropped open and she frowned at him. “You’re the one who called yourself my Mr. Right Now.”
“That was before. Hell, I want to bring you to my sister’s wedding. And you said yes. I want to introduce you as my girlfriend.”
Her eyes were big, wide, and suspiciously bright. “You said you’re not that kind of guy.”
“Maybe I didn’t know that I was.”
Her cheeks turned pink and she shook her head. “Don’t say that kind of thing. Not if you preface it with maybe. I can’t go there, you know? It’s too much, too soon.”
Shit, he did know that. He needed to shut himself up and the best way to do that was to pull her tight and kiss her senseless.
“Ignore the maybe,” he said, his voice strained as he pressed his forehead against hers once she was breathless and he’d laid the physical claim he couldn’t say out loud. Her lips were red and swollen, and he stroked his thumb across her mouth, around the bottom curve of her lower lip, then ghosted it over the cupid’s bow of her upper lip.
“I’m going to miss you so much.” Her voice cracked.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. “I’m coming back, Faith. No maybe about that.”