CHAPTER 18

AFTERGLOW

POPPY

I half expect Lance to leave when the sex is over.

I don’t know why. Beyond his intensity, which is high, he’s been incredibly attentive—in bed and out of it. Maybe I’m expecting it because this kind of sex entails a lot of connection for someone who seems to have a significant aversion to it.

I’m wrapped up in him, both of my hands caught in one of his against his chest. I assume it’s his way of keeping me close without giving me free rein to touch him. His other hand glides up and down my arm. We’re still on top of the covers, never having made it under them for the sex part.

My bed is a double. Lance takes up a good two-thirds of the space, and his feet hang off the end. I’ve considered upgrading to a queen, but it hasn’t been much of a priority as I’ve been sleeping alone for the better part of a year. It’s not that I haven’t dated. It’s that I haven’t found anyone I’m particularly interested in. Until now, of course.

But I have no idea what’s going to happen with Lance beyond tonight. His wanting to “see where it goes” could’ve been a ploy to end up here. Although it seems an elaborate ploy, if that’s the case.

“Do you have to be up early tomorrow?” he asks.

“No. I don’t have appointments until the afternoon, and tomorrow is a light day.”

There’s a long pause before he asks uncertainly, “Can I stay?”

I lift my head so I can see if his expression matches his tone. “Here?”

His eyes shift away. “Or I can go. Whatever.” He releases my hands and pushes up on one elbow.

“I don’t want you to go.”

He regards me skeptically. “So you want me to stay, or you’ll let me stay?”

I flatten a palm on his chest. “Both.” I go for light, because his mood seems to have darkened again. “I’d be a special kind of stupid to kick you out of my bed.”

He snorts a laugh.

I kiss his chin. “I’m warning you, though, I’m a bed hog, so don’t be surprised if you end up with six inches of mattress.”

“I think I’ll be able to manage.” He settles back against the pillows. “So, um, are you tired now, or…” he trails off.

“Or?” I’m not sure what he’s getting at. Maybe he wants to watch TV or talk some more, although my brain is practically fried from the orgasms. So many orgasms. More than I’ve ever had at one time—or in a twenty-four-hour period, actually.

His hand settles on my hip. “We could have sex again.”

I blink a few times, trying to determine whether he’s serious. He looks serious. And hungry in a not-for-food way. “Right now?”

“Or later. You know, if it’s too soon.” He moves his hand up a few inches to my waist, bringing his erection into view.

He’s already half-hard again. “Oh wow.” I drag a fingertip along the length of him.

His hand covers mine. “So an important thing you might want to know is that hockey players have pretty high stamina.”

“I see that.” I wrap my fingers around him and squeeze.

Lance’s mouth drops open, and his eyes roll up. “You gotta tell me when you’re tired, or you need a break, ’cause I can do this all night with you.”

“All night?”

Lance hooks his palm behind my knee and pulls it up as he readjusts my position so I’m suddenly on top of him. He shifts around under me until I feel his erection right up against me, smooth and hard and almost entirely ready.

“All night,” he confirms.

“What about sleeping?” I brace my hands on his chest. His muscles flex under my fingers, and that hot look in his eyes turns to fire when I roll my hips.

“We can take naps in between.”

I roll over and notice there is no warm, solid body preventing me from hogging the bed. I crack a lid and run my hand over the empty space beside me. The sheets are cool to the touch. My stomach sinks and my heart jumps into my throat at the thought that Lance has disappeared in the middle of the night.

Except then I hear the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing downstairs. I shove my face into his pillow and grin. It smells like his cologne. My entire bed smells like Lance. And sex. So much sex. I stretch out and groan at the aches already starting to make themselves known. Not that I mind.

Lance is an incredible, doting lover. Even if Kristi was lying, she was right about one thing: he’s certainly a giver.

I feel around on the floor for something to throw on so I can go see what he’s up to. I find his dress shirt and push my arms through the sleeves, fastening a few buttons in the dark. The shirt is huge on me, the sleeves ending six inches past the tips of my fingers until I roll them up, and the bottom reaches almost to my knees.

I pad down the stairs in the semi-dark. The light over the oven is on, illuminating a bare-chested Lance, who is rooting through my cabinets, mumbling to himself.

I watch him for a little while, appreciating the defined muscles in his arms, the broad expanse of his back, the ripple of his abs and the deep V leading my eye down… Holy crap. He’s naked. He turns a little, giving me an amazing view of his perfectly toned ass. God, his ass is unreal. Like every other part of him.

“Giving the neighbors a free show?” I ask.

Lance fumbles with whatever he’s holding, and several items fall out of the cupboard, hitting his chest before they drop to the counter and then to the floor.

“Hey. Shit. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He turns in my direction, and the bag of chips he’s holding hits the floor. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

I glance down, suddenly a little self-conscious. It’s buttoned cockeyed, one side hanging lower than the other. Half of my right breast is popping out.

I adjust it to cover myself. “It was the only thing I could find without turning on a light.”

“You should throw out all your clothes and start wearing my shirts.” He makes a C with both hands and holds them up in front of his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Making a mental picture for when I’m whacking off later.”

I duck my head and laugh. God, he makes me feel sexy. “You’re going to give my neighbor a heart attack with this.” I gesture to his lack of clothing.

Lance looks down and runs a palm over his chest and down his abs. He’s half-hard right now and growing fast. “That old guy who flirts with you?”

“He doesn’t flirt with me.”

“Yeah, right. Anyway, he’s probably sound asleep, dreaming of your face and wishing he could still get a hard-on.” He pats his own, all proud and cocky about it. “Why you all the way over there?”

I round the breakfast bar. As soon as I’m close enough, Lance grabs the front of my shirt—his shirt—and pulls me up against him. Dipping his head he kisses my neck, then runs his nose along the exposed skin of my shoulder.

“Your hair’s all fucked up,” he murmurs. “It’s sexy.”

“So is yours. It’s sexy, too.”

He gives me a sleepy grin.

“What are you rooting through my cupboards for?”

“I was looking for a snack.”

“What kind of snack?”

“Something sweet. Like gummy bears or something.”

“Hmm… I’m more of a savory snack girl. Let me see what I can find.”

I give Lance a little nudge so I can get to the cupboards. He doesn’t give me much room. I feel his erection bump my hip as I reach up and do some rearranging. It’s dark, though, so it’s hard to see.

I rummage around until I find a few bags that feel like they could be gummies and grab them. There’s a small bag of jelly beans, some Swedish Berries, and a bag of Jujubes. I hold out the Jujubes. “Here you go!”

Lance frowns. “Those aren’t gummy bears.”

I look at the package. “They’re almost the same thing.”

He pokes the bag and gives it a dirty look. “Not even remotely.”

“They’re both chewy and full of sugar—what more do you need.”

“The texture isn’t even close to the same.”

I hold out the bag of Swedish Berries. “Well, what about these.”

“They’re okay, but still not the same.”

“Are you always this picky with candy? When you get Skittles do you sort them by color?”

“They’re all equal opportunity Skittles.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.” I give him another nudge with my elbow so I can access the cupboard again. “Let me check one more time.” I stretch up on my toes and feel around.

“Want some help?” Lance’s hands settle on my hips.

At first I assume his version of help is going to include pressing his hard-on against my butt, but that’s not what happens. He lifts me up until I can get my knees on the counter. I grab the shelf to steady myself—also, Lance’s hands skim the outside of my thighs.

Now I can see inside the cupboard. There’s a lot of junk food in there I didn’t realize I had. I don’t really eat sugary treats, but I keep them handy because my sister and April both like sweets.

“See anything good in there?” Lance asks as he tears open the bag of Swedish Berries.

“Maybe.” I grab what could be a bag of gummy worms, or something similar.

All of a sudden I feel a draft. I look over my shoulder to see what’s going on as Lance says, “I see something I wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of.”

I shriek at the sharp sting, followed by the wet stroke of Lance’s tongue. “Oh my God! You bit my butt!”

“It’s pretty damn biteable.”

“Does it taste like gummy bears?”

Lance puts his hands on my hips before I can climb down from the counter. He turns me around so I’m sitting on the cold Formica.

He parts my knees so he can make room for himself.

I hold up the bag of gummy worms. “Tada!”

He grabs it from me, tears it open with his teeth, and dumps half the contents into his mouth. He hums as he chews. “These are kinda stale.”

“The Jujubes are probably fresher.”

He shakes his head and continues to chew. It takes him a long time before he finally swallows. The entire time he’s running his hand up and down the outside of my thigh. His erection rests against my stomach, covered only by his shirt.

“I like this,” he says.

“You like what? Eating stale gummy worms?”

“Me in your kitchen, you looking all sweet and sexy in my shirt. Us.” Under the smirk lurks that vulnerability I saw earlier, the first time we had sex.

“I think you’re missing the part where you’re naked in my kitchen.”

“If you’re worried about that you can always give me my shirt back.”

“But then I’ll be naked.”

“I don’t see the problem with that.” Lance skims along the buttons. “This is all wrong. Were you half-asleep when you put it on?”

He’s got that grin going again. God, he’s too sexy for his own good.

“Ha ha.”

“I can fix it for you.” He unfastens the first button and the second, approaching my navel. He parts the sides so my nipples appear and the fabric frames my breasts. “This is so much better.”

I laugh and then moan when he cups them, thumbs teasing the tight peaks. I check the windows behind him, darkness the only thing on the other side.

Lance looks over his shoulder. “Everyone in your neighborhood but us is doing what they’re supposed to at three in the morning: sleeping. It’s just you and me and my stale gummy worms and your subpar candy selection.” He covers my nipples with the shirt, though, and drags a single finger along the center of my chest, up my throat and under my chin. Then he touches his lips to mine. He pulls away before I can react. “I like that you’re a little shy, though. I’m not used to that.”

With the number of girls who throw themselves at him, I could see where my not tearing my clothes off the second he looked at me is unusual. Which is kind of sad. My stomach twists at the thought of all of the women he’s been with. I wonder if any of them meant anything, or if they were all just sex. I hope again that I’m not some kind of conquest for him, something to play with and discard. My heart might not be able to take that, because it already feels too involved with this man.

He must read something in my expression, because he skims my cheek with light fingers. “I mean it when I say this is different.”

“Different how?”

He picks up my hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips. “You’re all the good things I didn’t know I was missing.” He presses my palm against his cheek. “And like I told you, I don’t let anyone put their hands on me. Not ever.”

I don’t really understand how that works—how you can have sex with someone and not let them touch you. “Why not?”

“I don’t usually like how it feels.”

It’s a vague answer. And though I wait for a moment, he doesn’t seem inclined to elaborate.

“But I like how this feels a lot.” He moves my hand down his chest, but stops there, rather than guiding me to touch him where I’m sure it would feel the best.

“That’s good, because I really like the way you feel.” I trail my fingertips lower, and his abs contract when I pass his navel. I skim the shaft, then wrap my hand around him, squeezing lightly before I give him a slow stroke.

“Fuck.” His eyes close as his mouth drops. When he opens them again, they’re heavy. He cups my face and sucks my bottom lip between his teeth as I continue to stroke him.

“I want in you again.” His tongue sweeps my mouth. He tastes like artificial strawberries and lime.

When I moan my agreement, he pulls back.

“Here is okay?”

My gaze flickers to the darkness on the other side of the window. “Yes.”

“Want or let?” he asks.

It’s my new favorite question. “Both.” I’ve never been much for adventurous sex, usually sticking to beds and sometimes a couch, but I’ve never been wanted like this before.

Lance drops his hands to the still-fastened buttons on my/his shirt, popping them open. He pushes the sides apart again, revealing my nipples. Light fingers circle them before he bends to kiss and suck. Straightening, he follows the contour of my waist and grips my hips, pulling me closer to the edge of the counter.

He covers my hand stroking his erection with his own. The deep, almost pained groan that leaves him when he tightens his grip makes heat flare low in my belly. His eyes drop from my face to where we’re holding him. He shifts his hips forward.

I suck in a gasp that comes out a moan when he rubs the head of his erection over my clit.

“Does that feel good?” he asks.

“Yes,” I whisper-sigh.

He hums. “It feels fucking amazing for me.”

He keeps rubbing the head over my clit in slow, easy circles, occasionally sliding down so the head probes low and then moving back up. I squirm and edge forward a little more, wanting what he keeps saying he can’t wait for.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “All the condoms are upstairs.”

For a split second I consider going without, but it’s a bad idea. I don’t even know what this is between us yet. “I guess we should move this upstairs then.”

Lance grunts his agreement. Peeling our hands off his erection, he drapes my arms over his shoulders. “Hold on.”

He lifts me off the counter. I shriek and wrap my arms and legs around him. I can feel him, hard against me. He slides one arm under my butt and nabs the gummies, then carries me out of the kitchen and back up the stairs, to my bed.