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Without answering, she danced her fingers across his hips to the erection that still strained under his underwear. He couldn’t help it if he was still turned on. How could he not be, after touching her and listening to her gasps and moans?
She closed her hand around his erection and he snapped his mouth shut. No more objections forthcoming from him. No fucking way.
As if respecting the same invisible boundary that had appeared in his mind, she only used her hand. She stroked him lightly, surrounding him in warmth and pressure. He closed his eyes, even though it was dark, and imagined her mouth on him, thought of her nipples, rosy-brown against her lightly freckled skin, remembered the slickness of her pussy, the hard nub of her aroused clit, and he exploded into her hand. Too fast, fuck it all. Too fast. He wanted more, wanted to start over, savor every moment of it.
He gave an unhappy groan.
“Are you okay? What’s the matter?” Jenna stilled her hand, which was still wrapped around him.
“I’m just fucking mad at myself for coming so fast. Now it’s over, and fuck. Give me a moment.”
She laughed softly and uncurled her fingers from his cock. “Oh. Well, as long as it wasn’t me.”
“Yes, it was you. It’s your fault for being…you. Made me come so fast it feels like the early days all over again.”
“Not like then.” She shook her head; he felt her hair brush his chest. “Back then we came fast because we were so freaking horny. Now it’s because we have experience.”
And because it’s been building up, he wanted to say, but didn’t. He wasn’t ready to admit how much he still thought about her, still lusted after her. She’d moved on. He’d tried to, and in some ways he had. But she still had a hold on him. He couldn’t deny it, especially after what they’d just done.
Doesn’t count. Dreamworld. Remember?
Don’t kid yourself.
He rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom to clean himself up. Afterwards, he stared at himself sternly in the mirror. Don’t start thinking this changes anything. Don’t get your hopes up.
What even were his hopes?
His reflection stared back at him. You know what you want.
Shut up, loser. You can’t have that. It’s over. Been over.
Is it?
He turned away from the asshole in the mirror and went back to the dark bedroom. The bed was empty. Jenna was gone. And his entire heart caved in.
He got the message. Not a surprise. It was just a freak middle-of-the-night thing. Never to be repeated. Not to mean anything. Just a mutual pleasuring that was now over.
Climbing back into bed, he tried to make himself believe it was for the best. He was going to Japan, after all. Even if Jenna was willing, how would that work? All the same forces that had torn them apart the first time still existed. He was still part of the baseball world and all that came with it.
A brush of air against his back, and the bed bounced under Jenna’s weight. “I used the other bathroom,” she explained as she clambered under the covers. “A two-bathroom suite, can you imagine? That’s one more than our house has.”
And his heart soared. She was back. And he was lost. Or found. He wasn’t sure.
The next time Billy woke up, it was because his phone was buzzing. It must have been after seven to get through his “do not disturb” setting. He rolled over and grabbed it off the nightstand. A quick check of Jenna told him she was still deeply asleep. They hadn’t talked any more last night, just drifted together into sweet, companionable sleep.
The text was from Galen—not his regular cell phone, but the satellite phone he took with him on wilderness trips. It included a photo of his truck barely visible under a mountain of fresh snow.
We got buried. When are you coming back? Annika left a message asking for help. Now she’s not picking up the landline. Cell towers are down here.
He texted back, Soon as possible. Keep trying. Let me know what’s up. I’ll try too.
But his call to Annika’s cell phone went straight to voice mail. He tried the landline next but got Jenna’s cheerful recorded voice.
Okay. Dreamworld was officially over.
He shook Jenna awake. She sat bolt upright, with that parental sixth sense alerting her that something might be off. “What?”
He showed her Galen’s texts. “Annika’s not answering either phone.”
