Red Hot Obsessions (127 page)

This was supposed to be sex. Nothing more. But standing there with her, so close and comfortable, suddenly had him feeling an intimacy he hadn’t expected. Maybe it was the shower, because it wasn’t something he’d done with a woman in a really long time. Or maybe it was just being at her place, because he’d steered clear of breaching her personal space for so long.

He had no time to analyze the crazy feeling however, because Carissa dropped to her knees before him, eyeing his dick like an ice cream cone.

Christ.

One hand wound around his shaft and the other cradled his balls as she took him into her mouth, her lips and tongue circling around just the head, teasing for what felt like a lifetime, before she opened wider and took in as much of his length as she could, stroking the rest.

He touched his fingers to her hair and brushed a strand out of her eyes. He’d meant the gesture as nothing more than something to occupy his hand, in an attempt to keep from reacting too selfishly. But the motion had her blinking up at him, eyes wide and beautiful, as she sucked him. He nearly lost it. Sweet mercy.

He folded his arms behind his head in an effort to maintain control even as his hips surged forward. “Ah, shit. Carissa,” he groaned. “Goddamn, that’s so good…”

“Show me what you want.” She pulled away for a moment and treated him to a slow lick from root to tip.

“I wanna friggin’ come,” he growled and accepted the invitation to ease his hands in her hair and around her head, slowly and very, very carefully guiding her back and forth. She kept pace, her cheeks hollowing as she worked him, her hand sliding around and circling the base of his shaft, while the other gently rolled his balls in her palm.

How many times had he lain awake at night in the desert imaging this very thing? Her sweet mouth around his cock, her body beneath his. In reality, it’d been his hand working that magic, but he’d never admit it. Never shame her with that confession. Never share that personal vulnerability.

Besides, the real, live version of her was so much better than any memory or fantasy. And when she pressed and rubbed her tongue against that sensitive spot on the underside of his cock, all he could think about was letting go in the here and now.

Hands fisted in her hair, he tried to ease her back, to forewarn her, but she refused to be thwarted, her grip on his balls tightening as she sucked harder, driving him to the edge.

“I’m gonna blow, babe,” he groaned, giving her a chance to pull back. But she didn’t and he unloaded hot in her mouth. Leaning forward, he braced himself against the stall to keep upright.

With a sexy tenderness that made him reel, she brought him back down to earth, every cell in his body shuddering.

“That was nice,” she said as she pushed to her feet and came up between his arms, a wicked grin on her pretty, satisfied face.

“You’re the devil,” he croaked, his voice hoarse as he searched her face in wonderment. “I can’t believe you did that.”

She shrugged. “First time for everything, right?”

His head spun. “You’ve never…before?”

She licked her lips. “Nope.”

Holy hell. “I’m, uh, honored?”

To that, she laughed. “You should be. I wouldn’t do that for just anyone, you know.”

While she went to work, shampooing her hair with her eyes closed, he was left to stand there wondering what the hell that meant, exactly. That he was special in some way? His ego swelled, but he promptly denied it.
Don’t go there, dude
.

They quickly finished the shower, he redressed and Carissa went to her bedroom for fresh clothes. He followed after her, catching the last second of her shimmying into a pair of pink, lacey panties cut like shorts.
Skimpy
shorts, that provided a very nice, temping view of the curvy, lower part of her cheeks. He stifled a groan of appreciation. God, he loved this woman’s ass.

She tossed a smile over her shoulder, as if she felt him staring, then kept her back to him as she hurried pulled on baggy white t-shirt and clipped up her hair. “I hope you’re hungry.”

His stomach growled on cue and, given her soft laugh, she obviously noticed. “Apparently I am. Though I shouldn’t be. We ate like pigs this weekend.”

“Really? No rations?” she teased, as she led him back to the kitchen.

“No.” He laughed. “The guys decided to see me out properly.”

Carissa swung around and pinned him with a questioning stare. Her cheeks flushed and, when her bottom lip trembled, she bit it. “What do you mean?” she asked quietly. “Are you being deployed again?”

He leaned against the counter, enjoying the concern in her eyes way more than he should. He liked that she was worried about him. Liked that she looked a little scared. What the hell was wrong with him?

He shook his head. “No, my IRR’s just about up.”

“Civilian language, please.” The unease on her face warmed that strange spot in his chest again.

“I’m almost done with my commitment. Two more months and I’ll be free and clear of the Corps.”

She let out a shaky breath and gripped the edge of the counter. “Oh. Good. I think. I mean, are you excited?”

He lifted one shoulder and moved toward her, his hands going to rest on her hips. “I’m much more interested in your reaction. You panicked there for a minute.”

She averted his eyes and glanced down at his chest, but not before he saw the extra glisten in them. “It was just…déjà vu, you know?”

He cupped her jaw with his hand and lifted her chin with his thumb, so he could kiss her softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Carissa. Not unless you want me to.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this to be over,” she whispered. “Don’t get me wrong, I know what it is and what it’s not, believe me, but…I think it’s possible for two friends to simply enjoy each other on another level. Don’t you?”

“We’ll have to be careful.”

“Of course,” she replied, nodding her head too eagerly for his liking.

“You know it’s not that I’m ashamed of this. Of you. Right?”

She gave a nervous laugh. “Not any more than I am of being so attracted to you.”

He shifted closer, squeezed her tighter. “I’m serious, Carissa. If it weren’t for—”

“Shh.” She hushed him, her hands coming up and smoothing across his chest. “I know, Josh. Believe me, I know.”

Chapter Thirteen

If she hadn’t
gotten involved with his best friend, they wouldn’t have to hide this relentless attraction to one another. Not a single encounter with Josh went by that Carissa didn’t remind herself of that very fact. But her relationship with Reed wasn’t a detail she could change or take back and she’d learned long ago that time spent wondering about the “what might have beens” in life rarely rendered good results.

“Maddie doesn’t think much of me either,” Josh said and Carissa recognized the meager attempt to assuage the truth for what it was—he didn’t want her to feel bad for creating the big-ass elephant sitting in the corner of every room they occupied together. Especially when Reed was around.

She gave him a small smile. “You’re like an annoying little brother to Maddie.”

“But I’m older than she is.”

“Maybe she’s channeling Dan.”

Josh snorted. “Yeah, maybe.”

Patting him on the chest, she tipped her head toward the baking dish on the stove. “Shall we?”

His stomach roared again. “I guess so.”

She directed him to the cupboards for plates and silverware, while she sectioned the chicken pot pie and took the fixings for a salad from the fridge. “You want something to drink? I’ve got Corona, wine, Diet Coke and milk.”

He broke off a piece of crust and popped it into his mouth. “Would you think I was a puss if I said milk?”

She laughed and took out the jug. “Your secret’s safe with me, hot shot.”

A few moments later, they were seated at her kitchen table, which she hadn’t considered to be small, until Josh sat down at it. When he leaned down on his elbows and dug in, his sock clad feet braced against the wrought iron legs, he engulfed nearly the entire table with his big, military-grade body.

Carissa bit her lips together to keep from giggling.

“What?” he asked, looking up from beneath his eyelashes as he stuffed a spoonful of the pot pie into his mouth.

“You’re dwarfing my table.”

He narrowed his eyes and chewed for a moment. “You laughing at me again?”

“I wasn’t laughing at you last time!”

He made an unconvinced sound. “Maybe we should sit on the couch.”

“I’ll move the boxes, you carry the plates.”

Shoving the boxes into a corner, she cleared the couch and claimed an end, her feet curled beneath her. Josh took the middle, kicking one foot up on her coffee table and bumping the open photo album that sat on top.

With a bit of modesty, she reached out to close the cover, but Josh was faster.

“Don’t even think about, Pigtails.” He snatched the thick book out of the way, dinner plate in one hand and her childhood in the other.

“That’s the most embarrassing picture in there, trust me.”

He set his plate down and flipped to the beginning of the book, specifically the pictures of her naked in the kitchen sink. His crooked grin stretched wide. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Come on, Josh, seriously. Just eat. There’s dessert too, you know.” She made a swipe for the album, but he held it above his head.

“What’s in here you don’t want me to see?” he laughed. “Prom pictures? Mile high bangs?”

She fell back against the back of the couch and sighed. “Yes, but that’s not the point. It’s just…looking through my family pictures is a bit personal for a no-strings fling, don’t you think?”

“You know all of my family. You’ve hung out with my family. And we’re friends too, Carissa. But if you don’t want me to look, I won’t.” He offered her the book.

The sincerity in his eyes made her heart ache. It wasn’t that she cared if he saw her in her most humiliating moments—the problem was how normal her family had once been. How flawed and broken they were now. She didn’t share any of it easily, especially with people who might try to convince her to take pity on her father and his disease. The memories still stung too much, still tasted too bitter for her to comprehend any other way of dealing with it than the manner she’d chosen. A cold, hard severance from it all.

She shook her head. “Look at it. I’ll get your desert.”

“I was hoping for seconds of this amazing pot pie.”

She grinned. “I’ll bring more of that as well.”

She took her time in the kitchen, not wanting to see the look on his face as he traveled through her childhood and teenage years, seeing the perfect family she used to be a part of. He knew about her mother’s accident and that she didn’t talk to her dad much, but he didn’t know the entirety of it all. And she preferred it to stay that way, especially if things between them were to remain casual.

Balancing his second plate and two bowls of peach cobbler and ice cream, she made her way back to the living room to find Josh hunched over the photo album, his chin in the palm of his hand.

“Who’s this?” he asked, pointing at her high school boyfriend, standing next to her on the sidelines of a football game. He was decked out in his gear, helmet in hand, and she was in her cheerleading uniform, a corsage around her wrist.

“Ethan. Homecoming.” She set his plate and bowl on the table beside him.

“You two look cozy.” His voice contained more than a trace of accusation.

She chuckled and waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, we were.”

He shifted a glare her way. “How cozy are we talking?”

“My first. In every way.” She drew out the words, purposely taunting him. Then she pointed to one of Maddie with horn-rimmed glasses and a beehive hair-do. “Mads.”

He stuck his tongue in his cheek and narrowed his eyes, clearly not ready to change the subject. But he did. Reluctantly. His brows lifted at the picture she’d directed him to. “Spirit week or something? A play?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Just everyday Maddie.”

He mouthed a silent wow and turned back a few pages, his index finger tapping a photo of her family at Disneyworld. “Nice ears.”

“Right? I think I still have them somewhere.” She chuckled at the frown on her older brother’s face. “Cade was thirteen and so pissed Mom made him wear them for the picture.”

“Can’t blame the guy. He’s what, three years older than you? And still lives in Lincoln, right?”

She rolled a bite of peach cobbler around in her mouth, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. “Yep. Not too far from where we grew up.”

“You close with him?”

“Not anymore.”

He nodded and skipped back even further to a shot of her with a hammer in her hands. She couldn’t have been more than four years old. Clay was squatting behind her. “What’s this all about?”

The cobbler lodged in her throat and she had to cough to get it down. “One of my dad’s job sites.”

He glanced at her again, his blue eyes wide with surprise. “He’s a builder?”

“He was,” she said flatly, pushing away her dessert and wrapping her arms around her knees as she sat back on the couch.

“What happened?”

She shook her head. “Josh, I really…I don’t...”

His expression softened and she gave a mental sigh of relief, thinking he might drop it. “I did the math, considering the Fourth of July is just around the corner, and I’m really hoping I’m wrong, but it seems to me that—”

“It’s been ten years. Today.”

“Fuck.”

Her sentiments exactly. “Look, I’ve done pretty well today, so if we could maybe not go there…”

He pushed the album away and hung his head in his hands, his fingers pushing back through his hair. “Carissa, I’m sorry, I—”

“No,” she cut him off sharply. “No pity. I needed this. I needed you. Tonight. That’s all I want, okay? Nothing else.” This was where the sex-only bit got all messed up with the friends bit. If they were going to keep this uncomplicated, they couldn’t cross those dangerous emotional boundaries.

He was quiet for a long moment. “Maybe I should go.”

She clamped her eyes shut, completely unprepared for the surge of impending loneliness that washed through her. Like always, her emotions became harder to deal with at night and, when he left, she’d fall apart. She knew she would. “Okay.”

He steepled his fingers against his mouth and pulled in a deep breath. “You really want me to?”

“No.”

“Good, I don’t wanna go either. How about I go out and grab a couple movies?”

God, he was amazing. Knew her so well without her having to say any of it. “I’ve got streaming Netflix.”

“Perfect. Let’s hit it.” He closed the photo album, scooped up both dishes of his uneaten food, and leaned back next to her. She grabbed the remote and thumbed on the TV.