AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But her daddy knew her, just as her momma did, and they knew what Raeg or Falcon would never guess. They meant far more to her than just friends. Far more than she should have allowed them to mean to her. And if she wasn’t very, very careful, she’d end up loving them.
She almost thought another bullet in her shoulder would be preferable. She was damned sure it wouldn’t hurt near as long.
And it would destroy all her plans too.
She was tired of aching for two men she couldn’t have, and she was tired to being so alone, of ignoring the dreams that had slowly grown inside her during the long nights she’d spent with no one to lie beside her.
The dream of returning to Georgia, of having a family of her own, babies of her own. If she was ever going to let go of the fantasy she knew she couldn’t have, then she was going to have to start looking at what she could have. She could have a husband and babies. One husband would be far less complicated than two men sharing that role, now wouldn’t they? And she could live with caring for a man instead of giving him all of her. She could make do with that, because she knew she couldn’t have the two men she longed for. It wasn’t settling for second best when there was absolutely no chance at first choice. Right?
Lifting the remote next to the bed, Summer turned on the television and sat crossed-legged on the bed with her brush. As the late-night world-events anchor discussed yet another DC scandal, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and began brushing the heavy mass.
If she tried to sleep without braiding her hair, she’d probably be strangled in her sleep.
Just as she began brushing, she was surprised by a low knock on the door a second before it swung slowly open.
Falcon had showered as well. His hair was still damp, the elastic band of the loose, gray pants he wore rested low on his hips, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
But he was carrying a brush identical to the one in her hand.
Without speaking, he strode to the side of the bed as Summer scooted to the middle of the mattress and sat cross-legged while he settled in behind her. A heartbeat later, pleasure began singing through her body. The stroke of the brush through her hair, the caressing tug against her scalp, and the rhythmic, steady movements erased every tension, fear, and wariness.
She’d always found this incredibly sensual. Falcon brushed her hair with an enjoyment that always surprised her, but never failed to please her.
He was one of the reasons she refused to cut her hair, not some vain pleasure she found in it. Falcon seemed to love it. The very mention of cutting her hair was enough to have panic gleaming in his pale blue eyes.
“Had you actually cut this beautiful hair, I believe I might have spanked you with your own brush,” he sighed, causing a smile to tug at her lips.
She actually believed him too.
“You should have known better,” she mur
mured as he laid the brush aside and began to slowly pull her long strands into an intricate braid that he left loose enough that it wouldn’t leave her head aching from the pressure, but would keep the long strands from tangling or from strangling her.
“You owe me for making me believe you had done something so cruel to me as to cut this beautiful hair.” The humor in his voice was always contagious.
And maybe he was right. She had known that if he had actually believed she had cut her hair, he would be furious. Maybe even hurt.
“Okay, I owe you,” she agreed, the feel of his fingers working her hair, pulling her into a drowsy, sensual haze.
As good as he was making her feel by just braiding her hair, she thought how good it would feel to be touched by him, to have his fingers stroking over her body, touching her. To be allowed to touch him.
“Hmm, what should I demand as payment?” he asked, his voice just a little rough, the dark sound a pleasure on its own.
“Whatever you want,” she murmured, her senses drugged with the sensations.
She could feel him binding the end of the braid with the elastic band, and wanted to moan in regret. She wasn’t ready for it to end. Not yet.
“I’ve missed this.” His hands caressed her bare shoulders, the slightly calloused warmth of his palms sensitizing the nerve endings beneath her flesh. “Sitting with you, braiding your hair, feeling you against me.”
He never stopped at just braiding her hair. Maybe that was why she had missed it herself. Falcon liked touching her, and she so loved the feel of his hands on her, stroking and caressing her.
“Raeg says you’re addicted,” she said, reminding him of the accusation Raeg had made the previous year.
“Such jealousy he harbors,” he chuckled, the sound of it gentle, filled with the affection she knew he felt for her. “We feel sorry for him, don’t we?”
“He would probably disagree with you.” Her head lowered as his fingers began rubbing against the top of her spine, sending waves of exquisite pleasure rolling through her.
Oh yes, she had missed this. The calloused pads of his thumbs working the muscles beneath, firmly massaging her neck, draining the tension right out of her. It sent another type of tension invading her, but even that she looked forward to. Those sensations intensified the pleasure of his touch, heated her, and reaffirmed the fact that she was indeed a woman. A woman who ached for a touch denied her far too often.
