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Again and again.
“Let me watch you, Addy,” he whispered in her ear, his breath harsh. “Come for me.”
And she did.
Pleasure burst through her with fiery sparks, one after the other. He followed her, muscles flexing everywhere as he joined her in that hurtle over the edge.
His hand swept over her back, holding her close, his forehead falling against hers. She clutched at the fabric of his shirt, amazed that he was still half-dressed.
When she caught her breath, she pulled back, looking up at him. She wasn’t sure what she expected—a smile, perhaps, for the crazy bathroom sink encounter. But she hadn’t expected the seriousness in his eyes. Or the tenderness.
There was a connection there. A moment of recognition that sex hadn’t been just about fun and pleasure. Something bigger was happening. She felt it, as much as she didn’t want to. Did he?
Maybe he did. Because just then he blinked. But the moment had passed. The look had vanished. His expression was now carefully shuttered.
She knew it would be wisest, safest, to pretend that moment had never happened. To keep things light and happy and work on stockpiling those memories before she left to start over—a new career, a new life.
But it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to simply call up a smile.
“Where did that come from?” She walked her hands down the front of his chest, admiring his strength.
His beautiful body.
“I missed you today,” he said simply. “It didn’t feel right, starting our day off arguing.” He shifted positions and helped her down from the counter.
They cleaned up and she followed him into the bedroom. She sprawled on the California king–size mattress beside him, pulling pins out of her hair and setting them on the carved wood nightstand.
“Well, I sure don’t feel like arguing after that amazing meal and the...rest.” She laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.
In some ways, she would miss these moments even more than the torrid, tear-your-clothes-off encounters. A swell of emotions filled her, and she couldn’t resist kissing the hard, muscular plane.
This, right now, was her best memory so far. Being cradled in his arms and breathing in the pine scent of his soap.
“All day it was on my mind, how much I wanted to get home and fix things with you.” He stroked fingers through her hair.
That moment of connection in the bathroom? Could he feel it even now?
But she knew him well. Knew that he’d pushed away his other lovers once they started to get too close. Expect more from him. As his friend, she wouldn’t follow that same path. There had to be some way to salvage at least their friendship when this was all over.
“I have the perfect stress reliever that will make you feel better about your day.” She sat up on the bed, letting her hair fall over her shoulder now that she’d taken it all down.
Light spilled in from the bathroom, casting them in shadows. They’d eaten dinner late after the game and she knew he’d have to watch his game film soon.
“My stress faded as soon as I got you alone.” His wicked grin made her heart do somersaults.
“Take off your shirt and turn over,” she commanded, already plunging her fingers under the hem of his T-shirt.
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, his eyes lighting with warmth again as he dragged the cotton up and over his head.
“You know how they say chocolate is good for the soul?” She retrieved the dessert sauce and dipped a finger in the warm liquid.
“I think it’s books that are good for the soul.” He propped his head on a pillow, his elbows out.
“Well, chocolate is good for mine.” She traced the center of his spine with her finger, painting a line of deliciousness and then following it with her tongue. “But I think you’re going to like this, too.”
An hour later, she’d proved chocolate was good for everyone. Dempsey had bathed her afterward, whispering sweet words in her ear while he washed her hair.
She felt sated and boneless by the time he slipped from her bed to put in the necessary hours at his job. She hated that he couldn’t sleep with her all night, but in some ways, she wondered if it was for the best. She could tell herself that he had to work to do, and maybe that would make the hole he’d left in her heart a little more bearable.
* * *
Dempsey was still thinking about Adelaide the next day when he arrived at Gervais’s house to meet with his brothers. Physically, he stood outside the downstairs media room and made himself a drink at the small liquor cabinet in the den. But mentally, his brain still played over and over the events of the night before.
