Winning Her Over (8 page)

It was surprisingly easy to relax against him, her head pillowed on his chest as it slowly rose and fell. His skin was smooth and firm against her cheek. She shifted onto her side, tentatively sliding her hand around his waist.

It had been amazing, and weird, to wake up next to someone after so long on her own. She suppressed a sigh as her heavy eyelids closed. Might as well soak up as much comfort as she could, while she could, before she was once more flying solo. Because in just a few short hours, that’s exactly what she’d be doing.

She woke again when Cal slipped into bed behind her.

“Thanks for the toothbrush,” he murmured, greeting her with mint-scented kisses along her jaw.

“Mmm. You’re welcome.” She stretched languorously, and Cal paused in his attentions. “Keep kissing,” she commanded him, still drowsy.

He ignored her request, nuzzling his way down her neck instead and setting off cascades of delicious shivers. “So.” His breath puffed against her ear. “I was looking at your shower, and it gave me an idea.”

“What kind of idea?”

“The kind of idea that’s better as a show than a tell.”

As she soon learned, it was the kind of idea that involved warm water coursing over their slick bodies during an exquisitely slow round four.

Cal had the best ideas.

They eventually got dressed, with plenty of time for her to take him to breakfast as she had promised. He was overdressed in yesterday’s trousers and white oxford—the guys’ version of a walk of shame—but she was still proud to show him off at her favorite neighborhood diner.

Over coffee, toast, and omelets, she admitted something she hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him last night. “I don’t usually do…this, you know.”

“What, eat breakfast?”

His smile sent a rush of lust through her, even while his wisecrack made her roll her eyes.

“No,” she huffed at him.

“One-night stands?” he asked in a lower, more sympathetic voice.

“Is that what this is?” Even though she’d thought it herself, it was surprisingly painful to hear him say it.

“Not if you don’t want it to be. I’d like to see you again.”

Now,
that
was unexpected. “But you don’t live here.”

His response was pretty much the same as Cissy’s had been. “DC isn’t that far away. I could come up on weekends. If you’re not working,” he added hastily.

“You’d really do that?” She couldn’t quite believe it would be so easy to resolve the long-distance thing.

“Are you kidding me?” His volume had risen, and he lowered it, leaning across the table. “Last night, and this morning, was by far the best sex I’ve ever had. I am absolutely in favor of as many repeats as possible.”

“Oh.” She tried to hide her disappointment behind a joke. “So it’d be a multi-night stand then.”

“I prefer to think of it as friends-with-benefits.”

He sounded so fucking reasonable when he said it, but the concept still made her heart hurt. They didn’t know each other well enough to be friends, so what did that make them, exactly?

“I haven’t actually done that before, either. Would either of us have any other ‘friends’ we share ‘benefits’ with?”

He frowned. “I’d rather we didn’t.”

Well, she’d rather they pursued a romantic relationship and not just some bullshit casual sex thing, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. It was going to be this, or nothing.

Ordinarily she would have opted for the latter, but her newly fledged wanton side took the opportunity to remind her how spectacular last night had been. It had been by far the best sex she’d ever had, too. She’d just been hoping for the possibility of more, if they were going to bother continuing to see each other in the first place.

Maybe she could be a big girl and seize this chance to push her boundaries. Maybe the friends-with-benefits thing would work better than her instincts suggested. She was still ridiculously busy. Realistically, she had no time to pursue a serious relationship right now anyway. Not until her business was stable, and who knew when that would be. She shouldn’t be surprised that Cal wasn’t interested in something serious either. At least he was being up front about it, and he wanted to be monogamous.

“Okay,” she said, convincing herself. Mostly. She could do this.

His face lit up like he’d just been given a labradoodle puppy for Christmas. “Can I come up this weekend, or are you busy?”

“Let me check my schedule.” She was pleased that she sounded calm, despite the state of her nerves. She pulled out her phone and opened her calendar. “Nothing Friday night. Five appointments on Saturday, but I’m done by four o’clock or so. Two on Sunday, done by twelve-thirty.” Then she looked at him. “But if someone else wants to make a booking, I need to accept it.”

“Ah.” He thought for a moment. Then he said, “I can work with that.”

“You can?”

He nodded.

“You don’t have piles of laundry to do, or groceries to buy after you’ve been camped out in a hotel up here for a few weeks?”

“Sure. But I can take care of all of that tonight.” Thereby answering her unasked question about when he was heading back.

He pulled out his phone and tapped at it for a minute. “If I take the seven-thirty shuttle on Friday, I can be up here by a little after nine. Is that too late for you?”

“No, that’s fine,” she answered, bemused. Basically, they were making an appointment to have sex. Then Cal would go back on Sunday night or something, and maybe he’d come up again the following weekend for more of the same. It was bizarre how businesslike the whole arrangement was turning out to be. But if that’s how it was done, she supposed she could go along with it.

“And then I could take a seven o’clock return flight on Sunday. Or eight, if you wanted to grab dinner first.”

“Either way,” she said faintly.

He looked up from his phone. “Hey. You sure you’re okay with this?”

She dodged his question. “You seem awfully sure that you are.”

Cal shrugged. “Shuttle flights are easy to change. So if it all gets too weird for you, just tell me, and I can head back early.” Then he grinned at her, confidence firmly back in place. “I don’t think that’ll happen, though.”

Well, that made one of them. Brenna was reserving judgment.

“So. Should I book these flights?”

“Sure,” she said, sounding far more decisive than she felt. Maybe Cal could fuck the worries right out of her. And even if not, she ought to have some fun trying.

B
renna paced
. Or maybe flitted,
like the butterflies in her stomach. She settled onto her living room sofa, once again trying to relax with visualization exercises and meditation.

Her mind refused to clear. It doggedly kept returning to the train of thought dominating her brain ever since she’d left Serenity Massage earlier in the evening.
Cal will be here soon
.

And now soon was down to mere minutes. He’d texted about twenty minutes ago, after his flight had landed at Logan airport. There was nothing in her apartment left to clean, fold, or put away. She’d already showered, shaved everything that needed shaving, plucked, moisturized, painted her toenails, brushed her teeth (twice), and lightly dabbed scent onto her pulse points. A floaty floral cotton sundress revealed her shoulders and skimmed her knees in a comfortable, feminine way. The pale pink strapless bra and thong underneath probably wouldn’t stay on long anyway.

She stood abruptly, needing to dissipate some of the nervous energy coursing through her body. Before she could start pacing again, the buzzer rang. She flinched at the harsh sound.

Attempting to calm her racing heart with deep-bellied breaths, she stepped over to the intercom. An unsteady finger depressed the “talk” button.

“Hi.”

“Hey, it’s Cal.” Even the tinny voice emerging from the speaker sounded self-assured.

“I’ll buzz you up.”

Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she moved to the front door. She opened it a crack before deciding it might be more welcoming to wait for him on the landing so she could hold the door for him.

His footsteps grew louder as he climbed the stairs, and she soon caught a glimpse of his broad shoulders and sandy hair between the balusters. Her heart banged so hard in her chest she swore he’d be able to see it. Then he turned at the landing below and looked up.

When he saw her waiting for him, he smiled that radiant smile, the one that let her know everything was going to be all right. And if it wasn’t, then he would fix it.

She couldn’t help but smile back. In her anxiety, she’d forgotten just how beautifully put together he was. As he closed the distance between them, it all came rushing back.

“Hi,” she said again, not caring this time how breathless she sounded.

Cal stopped one step from the top, within kissing distance. “It’s good to see you. You look fantastic.” His baritone rumble stroked her nerve endings like a caress.

He looked fantastic too, in flat-front khakis and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up above his sculpted forearms. “Thanks. So do you.”

But she still wasn’t quite able to make herself bridge the gap and let herself be kissed. Cal was the more experienced partner in this dance. He’d have to lead. Though she had a feeling she’d willingly follow him just about anywhere, at least as far as bedroom-type activities were concerned.

She invited him in, and he set his bags down in the foyer. “Shoes off?” he asked.

Her own feet were already bare. She nodded, pleased.

He turned down her offer of food, but gladly accepted one of the fancy wheat beers she’d bought just for the occasion. She poured herself a companionable glass of wine—Lord knew she could use one.

As they sipped, she stood in front of him in her spotless kitchen, hoping to hell things would get significantly less awkward soon. Even amazing sex wasn’t worth this sustained anxiety that she’d do something dumb and he’d decide he wasn’t interested in her anymore. Or
he’d
do something dumb and make her regret she’d brought him home in the first place.

She needn’t have worried, though; Cal had it covered. He started off, as he often seemed to do, with uncomplicated conversation—about the rest of her week, about the Red Sox, about the case he’d started working on almost as soon as he’d set foot in the office the previous day. The man turned
easy to talk to
into an art form.

He finished his beer, rinsed the bottle in the kitchen sink, and, like the perfect guest, asked where her recycling bin was. Then he suggested she give him the full tour of her place, which reminded her in a flash of heat how they’d spent most of their time during his first visit.

Brenna relaxed in increments as she led Cal from the kitchen into the small dining area. “I bought the condo about six years ago. It had been on the market for ages because it needed a lot of updating.” In half a dozen steps, they were back in her living room. “The dining and living rooms used to have this gross wall-to-wall carpeting, but I pulled it up, and my dad and I refinished the floors.” Which were wide pine and beautiful, if she said so herself.

Cal raised an eyebrow. “Hidden talents.”

“You don’t know the half,” she said suggestively, already starting to feel more sure of herself. No tequila necessary. “The only thing the previous owners renovated was the master bath. I’m guessing they blew most of their budget on the heated floors and all that marble, and then they ran into financial troubles and gave up.”

“That bathroom’s incredible.”

“Well, I can’t take any credit for it. But even though I love it, it’s not how I would’ve spent my money.”

She looked down the hallway from her living room. “You’ve already seen the powder room. The laundry’s under the stairs.” And she felt calm enough now to suggest that they grab his bags and bring them upstairs before continuing the tour. His free hand found its way into hers as they started their climb.

At the top, they stopped first in the guest bedroom, which doubled as an office. After a brief glimpse of the bathroom next door, she led him into the master suite and dropped his laptop bag onto the armchair. He deposited his overnight bag next to it, on the floor.

She’d painted her bedroom a pale straw color and decorated it with framed Art Deco posters, which complemented the clean lines of her Mission-style furniture. A vintage
obi
in gold and forest green silk served as a runner atop her dresser, and a succulent jade plant rested in a metal stand underneath the skylight in the cathedral ceiling.

Normally, being in this room gave her a feeling of peaceful focus. But the usual effect was absent today. Because soon—if she didn’t chicken out—she and Cal would be having sex. Right there, where she’d turned back the bedspread to reveal the highest thread-count sheets she owned.

Shyness bloomed once again, and she forced herself to brazen through it. “You’ve already seen this room, too.” She pitched the words low and velvety, hoping she sounded seductive.

His voice was rich and dark like chocolate. “I hope you’ll forgive me for not paying more attention to it—then, and now.” He tugged gently on her hand, bringing her closer to his dizzying scent and all those firm, unyielding muscles.

Her heart was rocketing out of her chest as she turned her face upward. His kiss was so light she barely felt it at first. Like the brushing of a butterfly’s wings, his lips skimmed against hers, again and again. Her lips parted, and they shared one inhalation, one exhalation before her tongue-tip tentatively entered his mouth.

He tasted of spearmint, overlaid with the Hefeweizen he’d drunk earlier. She wondered if, despite the outward show of confidence, he’d been nervous about tonight, too. He’d made sure he was ready for her, the same way she’d done for him. No five o’clock shadow scraped her face as their kiss deepened. Whatever cologne he was wearing smelled freaking amazing. His heartbeat thudded fast but steady where their bodies pressed against each other.

Unexpectedly, she found herself wanting to reassure him. To tell him that she appreciated the care he’d taken. That she was glad he hadn’t rushed things when he first got here, but she was eager to get things started now. More than eager.

Her nervous anticipation heightened her senses, and now she could feel
everything
. The bulge of his arousal against her hip. His big, warm hands sliding to the small of her back, bowing her slightly as he pulled her against him. The flex of his shoulders and biceps as he surrounded her with his embrace.

She wanted to tell him all of this, but all that came out of her mouth was a sigh of pleasure. She shifted the angle of their bodies, sandwiching his erection against her belly.

He groaned before breaking their kiss. “Ah, you’re getting me so hot. I wanted to take it slow…”

His tone bordered on petulant, and she had to suppress a smile. The truth was, his imminent loss of control just made her desire coil even tighter. “You can take it slow next time. Practice makes perfect, after all,” she teased him. Then she took advantage of the barely perceptible gap between them to slide her thong down, over her hips, until it dropped to the floor. Along with Cal’s jaw, when the scrap of pale pink lace and silk landed next to his foot.

But he recovered fast. “In that case,” he said, hustling her backward to the bed, “let’s get you up here.”

Her dress billowed as she fell back, bunching underneath her waist. She was about to wriggle farther onto the bed when he placed a hand on her thigh. “Stay there. I want to make sure you’re ready.”

“I am ready,” she protested.

Kneeling beside the bed, he bent his head to her. He proceeded to thoroughly test her readiness until she was breathless and mewling, her hands grasping and clutching at the sheets.

“Mmm,” he finally hummed against her sensitive bud, like she was the sweetest delicacy he’d ever tasted. Then he pushed himself upright. “Now you’re ready. Let’s get that dress off of you.”

She sat up, a fistful of her dress in each hand. With a provocative look from beneath his light brown eyelashes, Cal withdrew a strip of condoms from his pants pocket and laid them on the bed. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt. His firm pecs and delicious abs were so distracting she froze, her dress halfway off.

He’d tossed his shirt onto the armchair in the corner and had started on his belt when he caught her staring. The hint of cockiness in his lopsided smile was far sexier than it ought to have been.

“You’re a tremendous boost to my ego, you know that?” he said.

Brenna pulled her dress the rest of the way up, leaving it over her head an extra moment or two to hide her flaming cheeks. Then it was off, and she leaned back on one hand, twisting to fling it in the general direction of the chair.

When she faced him again, wearing nothing but her pale pink lacy strapless bra, Cal’s expression had turned predatory. Even more so after the bra came off, too. Gratifyingly, his stripping off the remainder of his clothes became more about speed and less about putting on a show for her.

He picked up a foil packet and tore it open.

She sat up. “I want to do it.” Then she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his glistening crown for emphasis.

“Be my guest,” he said, handing her the condom. His husky voice struck an answering chord low in her belly.

He watched as she unrolled it down his shaft. His cock twitched once, twice, beneath her gliding fingertips.

“Scoot back,” he said, nodding toward the headboard. Then he followed her onto the bed, his hands coming to rest on either side of her ribcage and his knees pressing against her inner thighs.

She hooked her calves across his gloriously firm ass, opening herself to him. He supported himself with one hand as he guided his erection into her with the other. Then that hand dropped back to the mattress and he looked down at her, the pupils like inky pools in his gray eyes.

“I’ve been thinking of this since I left on Wednesday.” He slid home in one sure thrust.

Her eyelids fell shut as she savored the sensation of their joining. She brought her knees up along his sides and dug her heels into his butt as it flexed taut.

“Please,” was all she could say.

Bending down, he covered one of her jutting nipples with his hot mouth. She moaned, arching into the sensation as she sifted her fingers through his unexpectedly soft hair. He suckled harder, drawing on the tip of her breast again and again as he drove into her with long, even strokes. Each tug of his lips sent a corresponding jolt of desire arrowing through her.

Cal soon switched to her other breast, giving it the same careful attention. Her need for him grew, and her grip tightened on his broad shoulders.

“Greedy,” he murmured against her skin as he slid a fingertip down her belly, through her dark curls, and eventually brought it to rest against her throbbing clit. His tongue, meanwhile, resumed its swirls and flicks against her pearled nipple, and his questing fingertip began to circle gently.

Brenna bucked her hips toward him as he expertly tormented her overwrought little bundle of nerves. “C’mon, Cal.”

But the infuriating man was taking it slowly after all. His pace remained unhurried as he brought her higher and higher, the pleasure building within her aching core.

She tugged at him with her fingertips, urging him upward until their lips met. That seemed to catalyze him, finally, and her tongue slid into the welcoming cavern of his mouth in time with his increasingly forceful thrusts.

The gentle fluttering of his tongue against hers seemed to go straight to the tightly-puckered points of her nipples. She broke their kiss to whimper, “Oh, I’m getting close.”

Her confession seemed to spur him on. He slid one hand beneath her, his palm cupping her ass as he began to power into her. His pubic bone tweaked her clit with each grinding stroke. “You gonna come?” he managed to say. “I’m real close. C’mon.”

She tightened and slickened around him in response to the heady combination of his words and the indescribable feeling of him inside her.

“Ohhhh,” she moaned at the same time as he gritted out, “Shit, can’t stop it. I’m coming, Brenna!”

And then she was falling over the edge with him, her body detonating around him. “Ahhh!” she shouted as she writhed against him, clutching at his back and shoulders. Wave after wave of her orgasm rolled through her, overwhelming in its intensity. Cal was buried so deep inside her it felt like they couldn’t possibly get any closer. Yet she craved even more.

She clung to him, and he shuddered every so often as yet another wavelet crested within her, her inner muscles rippling around his cock. Slowly, the tide ebbed, and she went limp, relishing his weight pressing her into the mattress.