The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) (26 page)

Though it wasn’t an easy fit, she tilted her
hips to take him deeper. They fell into a rhythm together, pulsing
back and forth. He couldn’t stop looking into her eyes. His body
began to shudder, his arms flexed on either side of her beautiful
face. Surprisingly uninhibited, she cried out and dug her nails
into his skin.

He came, shaking, not a thought in his head.
A moment later, muscles buckling, he sank down to rest on his
forearms, buried his face in the crook of her neck, and breathed in
her sweet skin.

Long minutes stretched by. His heart finally
came to a manageable speed. His vision cleared. He savored how
right it felt, resting there between her legs, her pulse blending
with his own. So right it couldn’t last.

“I suppose you want to go back to the resort
again,” he muttered into her shoulder. “Any minute now you’ll be
telling me you were drunk and I’m an asshole… and you’d be
right.”

She captured his face between her hands and
pushed his head up to look into her eyes. “You’re not getting out
of here until morning, big guy,” she said huskily.

Before he knew it, she’d flipped him onto his
back and was attempting to tie his wrist to the bed with his
T-shirt.

“Would it ruin the moment,” he began, feeling
his blood start to simmer again, “if I said you make one hell of a
cute dominatrix?”

“Easy, tiger.” She trailed a finger down his
sternum. “I’m just making sure you don’t escape while I use the
bathroom.”

Grinning, he closed his eyes and sank back
into the mattress.

As if he’d try.

* * *

He watched her sleep. Her short, wild curls
framed her face on the pillow. Carefully, he moved the hair off the
left side of her face and studied the light shadow of freckles
across her skin, the way her reddish eyelashes rested against her
cheeks.

They’d used four condoms, the latest in the
shower a few hours ago. He hadn’t thought he was capable of that
last one, but sure enough, feeling her wet body rub up and down his
was enough to get him going again.

And now it was morning, and he couldn’t stop
looking at her.

In his career working with children he’d
known plenty of families that began unexpectedly. If Lucy was so
eager to get married and have kids, would she be on the pill? Or
was a thin layer of latex the only thing between them and
parenthood?

He couldn’t help but wonder what a kid of
theirs might look like. A redheaded giant? A shrimpy brunette with
a tragically hopeless dream of playing pro basketball?

You’re losing it, dude.
In the air
above her body, so as not to wake her, he traced her shape with his
hand. She had generous hips compared to the rest of her, but any
baby of his would be so huge he didn’t want to think about what it
would do to her body. Split her in half. Not to mention how it
would make her hate him forever—if she didn’t kill him out of
revenge first.

He couldn’t give her what she wanted. In this
alone, it seemed, she was willing—no, eager—to be reckless.

He would never be reckless about marriage.
Let alone children.

He sighed and sank onto his back next to her,
staring at the ceiling. A water spot stained the corner near the
window.

Relax. You weren’t the one she wanted to
marry, anyway.

The truth of that brought little comfort.

* * *

The sound of the shower turning off woke her
up. After a drowsy delay, she bolted upright, clutching the sheet
over her chest, and struggled to get her bearings.

Shabby bedroom, sound of the ocean, splitting
headache.

The bathroom door opened and Miles stepped
out with only a towel slung around his hips. His broad, muscled
shoulders and upper arms were damp from the shower.  Dark hair
trailed down over his stomach, pointing south under the folds of
the towel.

“Morning,” he said, drawing her attention up
to his face.

Such nice eyes. Great laugh lines. And now
that she knew what that mouth could do to her, she couldn’t stop
staring. Sensual lips, but not serious. The type to smile between
kisses. Hot, wet, tireless kisses.

She sank back and flung her arm over her
eyes, groaning.

“Coffee?” he asked.

Not moving her arm, she nodded.

“The breakfast room should still be
open.”

The thought of food made her stomach growl.
She peeked out and looked for a clock. “What time is it?”

Still hovering near the bathroom door, Miles
shrugged one massive shoulder. “Not quite ten.”

“Oh, shit.” She started to jump out of bed
but stopped when she remembered she was completely naked. “I
promised Fawn I’d do a spiritual retreat thing with her this
morning.”

“Call and explain.”

Giving up on modesty, Lucy slid down the
tall, creaky bed to the floor and scrambled around on the floor,
picking up pieces of her discarded clothes from the night before.
“Explain what? That I spent all night having sex with somebody
other than the guy she set me up with?”

“Like she doesn’t know.” He bent over and
found her panties under the bed, handed them to her. “You want me
to go get you something to eat while you get dressed?”

“What do you mean, ‘like she doesn’t
know?’”

“She was here last night. She knows.”

“But she left.” Rubbing her eyes, Lucy
remembered the look on Alex’s face when she stayed behind with
Miles. “With Alex.”

“Yup.” He came over and kissed her quickly on
the cheek. “Take your time. Fawn will understand. I’ll get you some
coffee and chocolate pancakes.”

“Waffles.”

He kissed her again, this time on the lips,
and tried to linger but she pushed him away. “My teeth are
furry.”

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I don’t
mind,” he said, but smiled and released her. “Back as soon as I
can.”

In five minutes she was dressed in
yesterday’s clothes and brushing her tongue with a washcloth. Her
cheeks were chafed from the night before, her eyes bloodshot—making
them even greener than usual—and it stung to wipe.

She didn’t regret a moment. She’d been drunk,
impulsive, shortsighted, and illogical, but for the rest of her
life she’d have this night to remember. Dan’s bitchy comment about
her being too sexually needy for him couldn’t hurt her anymore. A
handsome, virile guy with more testosterone in one eyelash than Dan
had in his entire body had found her irresistible not just once,
but—she turned off the water and stared at her face in the
mirror—four times.

She blinked back at herself wonderingly. Was
that biologically possible for a man more than a decade past
adolescence? Maybe that last time nothing really came out.

The door slammed. “Honey, I’m home!”

Her body reacted instantly. In the mirror,
she could see her eyes widen, the way she blushed and licked her
lips.

She squeezed the washcloth into a ball and
threw it down onto the sink. Sex was great fun but she couldn’t get
carried away. “Out in a minute!” She paused with her hand on the
door. It wouldn’t look good to rush out as though she’d been dying
without him.

“Success,” he said. “There’s even enough for
me, and that’s saying something.”

She peeked out. He was trying to fit a few
overflowing plates onto the small table by the window. The last one
kept toppling sideways. Giving up, he put it on a chair before
stepping back and brushing his hands together with pride.

He was so damn cute. And he’d made the room
smell like hot sugared starch and caffeine. Heaven. She walked
over, suddenly shy, and took the empty chair. “Where’s yours?”

He came close and tilted her chin up to look
at him. Little jolts of electricity went through her as he stroked
the tender skin of her throat. Then he bent over and brushed his
lips against hers. “Right here.”

She froze. “Miles—we need to talk. I’m not
sure—”

He smiled faintly, nodding at the steaming
feast. “After breakfast.” He lifted the plate off the chair to sit
down.

The waffles were smothered with butter,
chocolate chips, whipped cream, cinnamon, and fresh raspberries.
She picked at it, hyperaware of him, a mountain of man sitting
across from her. He had delicate table manners. He cut his food
into small bites and used a cloth napkin to dab at a dollop of
whipped cream that graced the corner of his sensuous mouth—

“I don’t think I can do this,” she blurted
out.

His eyes smiled at her over his coffee cup.
“You’re doing fine.”

“No, I’m not. I’m
nervous
. It’s
ridiculous. After everything we did to each other all night, why
would I be nervous?”

His smile grew, stretching from ear to ear
and taking over his entire face. “Because you know we’re about to
do it again?”

She tried to muster up something coolly
dismissive, or even lighthearted and flirtatious, anything to show
she wasn’t feeling raw and exposed and totally, completely
terrified.

Instead, all she could say was, “We are?” and
stare at him blankly.

“Yup.” His smile was gone now. He glanced
down at her plate. “Done?”

Numbly, she nodded. He took her plate and
dumped it on top of the others.

“We’ll have to talk later, then,” Lucy
managed to say. Right before he lifted her up in his arms and threw
her on the bed.

Lucy climbed up on the bike behind Miles. She
couldn’t stop smiling.

“We’re never going to talk about this, are
we?” She gingerly adjusted her weight on the seat. Sore, but the
good kind of sore. Happy to have her arms around him again, she
squeezed his waist, savoring the delicious realness of him.

The engine sputtered to life under them. He
turned his head, but in the helmet she couldn’t see any hint of his
face. “Did you say something?”

Shaking her head slightly, she reached down
between his legs and stroked him.

“Hate to say this, but you can’t do that
now,” he said. He was half-shouting through the helmet visor.

With one last little pat, she took her hand
away, grinning. She’d never felt like this before. Like nothing
mattered. She could float away with the fog, she was so light.

“Hold on!” he shouted, and they were off.

And damned if the ride didn’t get her all
turned on again. Was good sex like eating potato chips? She’d
devoured his whole bag and now was trying to get the last crumbs
out of the bottom corners with a wet finger.

A sharp curve in the road, with a sharp
drop-off to the rocky shore below, made Lucy grab onto Miles like a
baby koala.

Yet more proof she wasn’t herself; the height
only gave her a few butterflies. And she was already
lightheaded.

There was another curve, and another. They
passed an RV, then a trio of cyclists, and she lost herself in the
rhythm of the journey and the beauty of the ragged, wild coast.

Later. She’d think later.

* * *

“I thought we were going to do a spiritual
retreat,” Lucy told Fawn that afternoon, stifling a yawn as she
stepped into the large public hot tub next to the lap pool. The
pool complex was covered with a protective tent about fifteen feet
high at the center and looked like a giant, hollow marshmallow. The
warm, quiet humidity inside was a nice change after the relentless
wind outside.

Fawn glanced at the pool tent entrance, then
settled down under the water. Tendrils of steam rose up around the
hair she wore on either side of her head in two round, braided
pigtails—Princess Leia the supermodel. “I wanted to talk to you
privately first.”

Uneasy with the serious tone, Lucy slipped
down into the water to hide her face. She’d called from the B&B
to admit her descent into sin, but Fawn hadn’t said anything other
than “Okay,” and “Can you be back by four?”

“Are you angry with me?” Lucy asked her
finally.

She looked at the door again. “Oh, no, of
course not.”

Lucy wasn’t convinced. “I’m sorry about
Alex.”

Fawn’s eyes were suddenly on her. “Are
you?”

“I know how awkward it might be… ”

“For him? Or for you?”

“For you,” Lucy said. “I asked you to set me
up, and then I blew him off in front of everybody. Well, not that I
blew him at all. Ha, ha.”

“You had a lot to drink. Was that it? You
weren’t quite yourself?”

A vision of riding Miles on the beach flashed
through her mind. She felt her already rosy body get rosier. “You
could say that.”

“Because I don’t think it’s too late to
explain that to Alex—”

“I’m spending tonight with Miles. In his
cabin.”

Fawn stared at her, face blank. Her beautiful
android-of-the-runway look.

“You’re angry,” Lucy said.

“If it’s not meant to be… ” She bit her
lip.

The high-pitched whir of the pool bubble’s
zipper opening caught their attention. Krista stepped in wearing a
white bikini, Betty right behind her in a black wetsuit that went
down to her knees.

Fawn swore. Her eyes darted between them and
Lucy.

“What?” Lucy whispered at her.

But their friends were already at the edge of
the hot tub, stepping down to join them.

“Damn, it’s hot in here,” Betty said,
reaching for the zipper at her neck.

Krista held up her hands. “Please don’t get
naked again. I can’t take it anymore.”

“I’ll melt!”

“Why didn’t you just wear a bathing suit?”
Krista jumped down to the bottom of the pool and strode through the
water to Lucy’s side. “I have seen that girl’s boobs enough for a
lifetime, God help me. I deserve a medal.”

Betty stuck out her tongue and peeled the
suit off. After a shimmy for Krista, she stepped down into the
bubbling water, completely naked, while the rest of them openly
stared.