Her Island Fantasy, an erotic novella (Bridesmaids in Paradise) (10 page)

A knock at the door had her jolting and almost knocking over the Diet Coke on the trunk she used as a coffee table. Who the hell would be knocking in the middle of the night? The knock came again, and she turned the TV down, unfolding herself from the couch and reaching for the bat she kept underneath. She crept to the door, wishing she didn’t have so many lights turned on, wishing…

Wait. Through the glass at the top of the door, she saw dark wavy hair. No. No way. She eased closer, bat tight in both hands, and suddenly pink furry handcuffs appeared in the window.

She twisted the deadbolt and yanked the door open to see Ian standing on her porch, a pizza balanced on the fingertips of one hand, the handcuffs dangling from the fingers of the other. He was grinning as if he hadn’t just scared ten years off her life.

“What are you doing here? How did you know where I live?”

“I tried to call, but you didn’t answer. I just got off. Want some pizza?”

Numb with shock, she stepped back to let him in. She tugged at the t-shirt she wore over her yoga pants and swept her hand over her messy hair, then closed the door and followed him to the couch.

“Have any beer?” he asked.

“Um. Sure.” She turned into the kitchen and grabbed a bunch of napkins, too.

“So why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“How’d you get my number?”

He tapped his chest, where his t-shirt read “Property of APD.” “I’m a cop.”

“My phone is in my purse. I guess I didn’t hear it.” She sat on the edge of the couch and he plopped beside her and opened the box. Then, as if it just occurred to him, he turned, cupped his hand around the back of her head and kissed her. “Missed you.” Then he turned back to the pizza, pulled out a cheesy slice, slapped it on a napkin and handed it to her.

She curled her legs under her, questions flipping through her mind, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answers.

“How did you know I’d be up?” was the one she decided wouldn’t be too scary.

“I didn’t. But I saw the lights on and thought I’d take a chance.”

“A chance that I didn’t have a gun,” she muttered, biting into the pizza.

He chuckled. “The bat was pretty scary.”

She had put it down by the door, and didn’t think he’d seen it. “What’d you want me to do? Just open the door?”

“You did good,” he said around a mouthful of pizza. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I never thought I’d see you on my front porch.”

He kissed her again, a greasy one this time. “Told you. I missed you.” After he devoured two pieces of pizza, he sat back on the corner of the couch and took a sip of beer. “So what have you been doing the past couple of days?”

“Recuperating. Trying to get back on a central time schedule. You?”

“Put in three shifts already. Wish I had time to adjust.” He grabbed a couple of napkins, wiped his hands , and leaned over her. “Missed you.”

Her, or sex? she wanted to ask. “You said that.”

“You think I just came over here to sleep with you.”

“You did bring handcuffs. And our conversation on the plane?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I do want to sleep with you. But I missed hanging out with you. Going home felt too lonely.”

She wasn’t sure if it was his body stretched along hers or his sweet words but she was melting. She curled her fingers through his hair and brought him down to her.

His kiss was sweet, slow and seductive, his lips molding hers, his tongue teasing before he deepened the kiss. He curved his hand around her waist and drew her closer as he shifted to lay against the back of the couch. She twined her legs with his and felt his erection grow against her stomach. She waited for him to undress her, but he seemed content with the long kiss, so she gave herself over to it. Man, could he kiss, a touch of the tongue here, a nip of the lips there, a rhythm that kept her wondering what was next.

And then he cupped her breast through her t-shirt. As he toyed with her nipple, he raised his head to look down at her.

“I don’t want to use the handcuffs tonight. I want to feel your hands on me.”

Her heart hitched. “Take me to bed.”

He grinned. “I don’t know where it is.”

She rolled off the couch with very little grace—that had worked better in her head—but he didn’t laugh. She reached a hand to him and he took it, then hopped off the couch to follow her into her bedroom.

She was grateful she’d unpacked and put away her suitcase earlier so he didn’t think she was a complete slob.

Then all thoughts abandoned her head when he wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her throat. She looked across the room to their reflection in
the mirror. God, even with her wearing her baggy shirt and yoga pants, they made a sexy picture. Her pulse drummed between her legs in growing urgency as she watched his hands wander her body. He stepped back to pull her shirt over her head and she pushed down her pants. Once she was naked, he drew her against him again. The picture in the mirror was more erotic—her naked, him clothed. He kissed his way down her shoulder as he toyed with her breast, as he glided his other hand between her legs. She gasped to discover how wet, how ready she already was.

Again he released her and shed his clothes, then nodded for her to get on the bed. She stretched out on the quilt and he lowered himself over her, naked body pressing her into the mattress, just like he’d promised on the plane. Again he kissed her, just kissed her, his body rubbing against hers, his cock hard against her hip, his chest hair a delicious tickle against her breasts. She glided her hands over his shoulders and arms, down his back, curving her body up so she could reach his ass, where she traced patterns that made him even harder. He shifted, just a moment, to sheath himself, and then he was in her, moving slowly, deliberately, holding himself off her so he could watch her, his lips in his familiar smile, but his eyes darker with some unidentified emotion. There was no urgency, just….rightness.

Perfection.

She came in a long, slow roll, but he wasn’t done with her, his thrusts deliberate, stroking deep,bringing her back to the edge before taking her over again.

And again.

And again.

The next few weeks continued like that, Ian showing up after work, they’d eat, hang out and go to bed as the sky was growing light. A few nights they went to an all-night diner or a taco place, almost like a date. Bailey hadn’t been out after midnight since college. Ian laughed at how amazed she was by the world at night.

On his days off, they went on picnics by the lake, had a barbecue at his apartment by the pool, and best of all, he found a drive-in movie theater outside of town. They backed his truck toward the screen and made the bed into, well, a bed, but she only let him get to third base.

“On Monday, I’ll be getting up at this time,” she said Saturday morning as they undressed for bed.

She should have been adjusting her schedule for weeks now, ready to wake up at five, leave home by six thirty, be at work by seven thirty. But she’d wanted to wring every bit of fun she could from her time with Ian.

She’d prepared herself for their relationship to end when they’d been in Hawaii. It had been a fantasy, and fantasies always had to end. But then he’d invaded her real life and while she loved the time they spent together, saying good-bye to him this time would be doubly hard, since he’d been in her home, her bed, her heart.

“That’s going to suck,” Ian said, sliding under the covers and reaching for her. “I guess we’ll be stuck seeing each other on my days off.”

She stiffened. “You don’t really want to continue this, do you?”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“Because. This was just a thing. I mean, how long were you with Mallory? And you just broke up a few months ago. I’m fine being the rebound girl, you know, but rebound girls don’t last.”

He stared. “I never thought of you as the rebound girl.”

“I know you thought you’d hook up with someone in Hawaii to get over Mallory. I just happened to be that someone.”

He sat up. “Well, this is more than a hook-up, Bailey, shit. Are you doing this now? Breaking up with me when we’re in bed?”

Tears sheened her eyes and she dipped her head to hide them. “Not breaking up. Just—this is a practical time to end this. It’s been fun, but I have to go back to work and our schedules will never work and—I’m just the rebound girl. This was never meant to be a happily ever after.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I’m not Mallory.” She had been magnificent, a trauma nurse, brave and beautiful and suitable for a cop’s wife

“Damn right you’re not Mallory.” He shoved back the covers and got out of bed to pace in front of the window, where the weak dawn light shone through the curtain. “We were together three years and she took off. Left a letter. No room for discussion, just didn’t want to be together anymore. I never knew she was a coward.” He turned to her. “I never thought you were a coward either.”

If she’d slapped him, she didn’t think he’d be more stunned. Face pale, features tight, he stared at her a long minute before snatching up his clothes.

“Call me when you change your mind,” he snapped as he stalked out. Moments later, the door slammed and she heard the truck roar to life.

Idiot
. What had she done? She turned into her pillow and cried until she was exhausted, but never found sleep.

***

As expected, she had trouble getting back into the swing of a school schedule. Knowing she’d go home to a lonely house, wouldn’t be expecting Ian when he got off shift, she stayed on campus until dinner time preparing for the beginning of the school year. Her room had never looked better.

This was who she was, the spinster pre-kindergarten teacher, the woman who put her life into other people’s children because she was too scared to try to have her own. Apparently she’d abandoned her bravery in Hawaii.

The first week of school flew as she tried to acclimate four-year-olds to a schedule and socialization and learning. She went home exhausted every night and hardly even smelled the pillow for a lingering scent of Ian anymore. Too much time had passed, so she was fairly certain his scent was all in her memory.

Her students were down for their naps when a soft knock sounded at the door, and Haven walked in, looking very principal-y in a slim mint dress and black heels. Bailey had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she hadn’t even heard the click of them down the hall.

“Um, Miss Warwick? Do you have a career day planned?”

Career day? In pre-k? “Um, no. Why?”

“Because there’s a police officer out here who says he’s come to talk to you about career day. Should I send him in?” A smile played around Haven’s lips.

A police officer? Her heart stuttered. No, it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t be. Why would he come to her school in the middle of the day?

She rose from behind the tiny kidney-shaped table on shaky legs as Haven opened the door wider to reveal Ian standing there in his uniform, his hat under his arm, so tall and masculine in the elementary setting. She wanted to be calm and cool but she was shaking all over.

The smile he gave her was gorgeous but didn’t make her less nervous.

“Career Day?” she asked, stepping out into the hall.

“You didn’t call.”

Haven moved deeper into the classroom to keep an eye on the students and closed the door, leaving Bailey in the hall with nothing to hide behind and no excuse for bolting into her classroom. Instead she folded her arms over her stomach.

“You two planned this? Why here? Why today?”

“I didn’t want you to give a chance to turn me away.”

“So you came during school so you could make a scene?”

“That wasn’t my intention. I couldn’t come after school because I have to be at roll call, and I didn’t want to wait until my next day off. Haven told me this would be the best time.” He moved forward and took her hand. “You’re not a rebound, Bailey. Maybe that was the plan when this started, but you’re under my skin. All I think about is how I want to see you, how I want to tell you things, how I want to wake up next to you.”

A thrill ran through her. She tried to squash it, tried to put up the walls, but couldn’t find even one brick, not when he was looking at her like that.

“I’ve missed the hell out of you, Bailey. I know I work crazy hours, but other people have worked around that before. I know we can, too.”

His hand tightened on hers and his palm was a little damp. That, more than the hopeful look in his eyes, made her heart soar.

“I love you, Bailey, and I want a happily ever after with you.” With his other hand, he stroked her hair back from her face, his fingertips lingering at her temple. “Can we try this?”

Without a word, she backed away, and saw the flicker of pain in his eyes until he felt the tug of her fingers. She drew him into the unoccupied reading specialist’s room, closed the door and wound her arms around his neck. His utility belt was an obstacle as she fit herself against him and rose on her toes to brush her lips over his.