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Nodding, she turned toward the living room, but his roughly sensual voice stopped her. “You take orders pretty damn well.” Grinning, he dumped cocoa into the pan.
Her lips curved even though she suddenly didn’t feel the least bit like smiling. “As long as I get what I want, I’ll play along.”
His grin f
led. “This isn’t a game. Not to me. If it is to you, maybe you’re right that staying here today isn’t the best idea.”
“What happened to not wanting more than I could give?”
“That’s still what I want. But what I want most of all is your honesty. If you’re using me to forget, I’m okay with that. Just don’t lie to me.” He picked up the jug of milk on the counter and poured some into the pan, splashing the stove. “And don’t lie to yourself.”
She stared at him for a long moment before going back to pick up the pile of clothes. Then she walked out of the room.
Four
Justin didn’t know if she’d be waiting for him in front of the fire. For all he knew, she’d taken off. The cocoa took longer than he’d expected, because he hadn’t been paying attention and had scalded the hell out of the first pan of milk. But when he walked into the living room with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows, she was kneeling in front of the fire.
And she was still blessedly nude.
He offered her a mug, and she thanked him, but she didn’t smile. All at once, he realized just how important making Kylie smile had become in his life.
Every night he came into the bar whether he’d had a good day or bad, whether he wanted to be alone or not. He’d grown addicted to seeing her cheerful grins and fielding her teasing questions, but it wasn’t only that. She’d given something he’d never understood he’d been missing. A place to go at night, where someone was happy to see him.
Where someone gave a shit if he lived or died.
His feelings for her weren’t easy or uncomplicated, and they sure as hell weren’t only about sex. If he wanted her to be honest, maybe it was time he returned the favor. He’d never told her about his mother or why the mere possibility of a woman being mistreated—especially Kylie—sent all rational thought out the window.
He also hadn’t been able to verbalize why, as much as he’d wanted to spank her, as much as he suspected she’d be into it, he’d been unable to see striking her, even in pleasure, as anything but causing her more pain.
Hearing what she’d been through with Rob had shut him down. He wanted to see her bent over in front of him, and for a moment he hadn’t been sure he’d be able to stop himself. But he had, because he needed to make sure the lines between him and her ex weren’t the least bit blurry.
He exhaled. So…truth. He owed her that much, and more.
She sipped her cocoa, watching him. At that moment, even living a lie seemed preferable to being without her.
“You like it?” he asked.
“So good.” She dipped her fingertip in the cloud of whipped cream he’d plopped on top. The can had been leftover from one of the teachers’ many baskets and luckily not expired. “Compliments to the chef.”
He drank rather than spoke. Dark, rich chocolate blasted his taste buds, soothed by the wash of cream. It was good, but he wanted another kind of sweetness in his mouth. Another kind of wetness dripping over his chin.
He set down his mug, intending to grab a couple of cushions and a blanket off the couch. The uncarpeted floor was hard, and with the full glass front door only a few feet away, the room tended to get chilly even with the fire. But before he could turn, sure fingers wrapped around his zipper and tugged.
Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed she’d set aside her cocoa on the hearth and crawled closer. Despite her kneeling position, from the fierce expression on her face, she wasn’t in the mood to submit. Firelight carved hollows in her cheeks, backlit her sunny hair. She looked like an angel. A wicked angel he’d only dreamed of getting out of his fantasies and back into his life.
Regardless, he had to talk to her. To try to explain. But when the teeth of his zipper separated and she found only hard, erect flesh, he forgot all about baring his soul in favor of baring his dick.
Her tongue flicked against his length, little flames of heat meant to build his need. Leisurely at first, faster as he started to pant. She peeled down his jeans until they wrapped like denim bindings around his bunched thighs. Strangely, the constriction only made other parts of him ache more.
Her hot gaze caressed him, and his cock swelled, rising flush against his belly. Slowly, she brought the tip of him into her mouth. Her lips made the perfect vise, and her breath steam-bathed his erection while her bright blue eyes locked on his.
She drew harder, and he fisted a hand in her tousled hair as she swallowed more of his cock. His hunger for her knew no bounds. After all those months of pretending he didn’t feel anything toward her but friendship, all those times he’d taken a cold shower to keep from thinking of her mouth on him as it was now, he was lost.
The first time they’d been together years ago had been about missionary sex only. They’d had a bit too much to drink that night, and he hadn’t taken full advantage of having Kylie in his bed, figuring they’d have more time.
But they hadn’t. He hadn’t.
Finally they could make up for what they’d missed.
