Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
SOPHIE
I just got caught making out with Jonah’s brother against a streetlight. Who am I?
Part of me is fearful that I’m not behaving the way I’m supposed to, and there will be consequences. There already have been. Bear saw us together, and he will certainly tell Dottie, but I’m surprised by how little I mind the thought. She obviously likes Rob. The worst she’ll do is buy me a box of condoms.
Besides, I did all the right things with Jonah, and I still had bad luck.
Maybe I should be panicked, but the truth is I feel powerful for once. I wanted to kiss Rob, really kiss him, and I did. I made it happen.
And it was so good. So, so good, in a way that kissing never has been before. I feel giddy and wild, and even though part of me thinks I should send him home, I take his hand and lead him back to my aunt’s house. He gives me a sidelong glance as he walks with me, his gaze amused and appreciative.
Goodness, has he always been this hot?
His chest is warm and hard, like his thick arms, and his mouth is so talented. Like he was playing my body the way he plays his instrument.
“Soooo,” he says slowly as we walk, his hand swinging with mine as if holding hands is natural for us. Is he doing it for show, so Bear and Dottie will see and spread the word? Or because he wants to? “Scientifically speaking, what are your thoughts?”
“What are yours?”
“For the record, I asked first,” he says, his mouth quirking up. “Although I don’t think this one’s up for debate. That kiss was definitely better than the first one, and Jonah wasn’t watching.”
I beam at him, caught up in a giddy feeling, as we continue walking. “Would it have been better if I’d been wearing the blue dress?”
“There’s only one way to know. And I’m suddenly very committed to the scientific process. Who knew.”
I’m laughing as we reach my steps. He stops me there, his hand holding mine.
“I’m not coming in,” he says.
Disappointment tugs at me. “Why not? I could put on that dress…”
“You’d never get it on,” he says, his eyes seeming to darken and absorb the shadows around us. “I…” He reaches up with his free hand and rubs his jaw. “If we’re continuing with the whole straightforward thing between the two of us, I really want to fuck you, and I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
My mouth drops open, as much from the language as from his honesty. “Are you trying to shock me?”
“Maybe.”
“What if I want to…fuck you ?” It comes out awkward, and from the glint of amusement in his eyes, he knows I don’t use that word often and finds it funny. But I can tell he liked hearing it. I steel myself, then add, “People say it’s a good idea to have rebound sex after your wedding is called off. Hannah said so, and I looked it up on the internet. Everyone seems to be in agreement.”
I expect him to tease me for that, but instead he tightens his hand around mine. “And you’re saying you want to have rebound sex with me?”
“Yes.”
“Because of Jonah?” he asks, holding my gaze. His eyes are a deeper, earthier color in the dark.
“Because you make me feel good.”
“I could make you feel even better,” he says, leaning closer. He places a kiss on my neck that sends spiraling need to places I didn’t even think of as erogenous until this very moment.
“Big talker,” I tease, trying not to show him what he’s doing to me, how a kiss to the neck is already making me feel like I’m going to fall apart.
“That’s not the only part of me that’s big.”
I laugh and shove his chest, loving the way it feels against my hand. “You’re so cheesy.”
He gives me a wicked smile, but it slides away, and his expression turns serious. “Let’s get you inside and to bed.”
“With you?” I ask as he guides me up the porch steps.
He doesn’t answer, just holds my hand and walks to the door with me. He waits for me to unlock it, then closes and locks it behind him.
“I hope that means you’re staying,” I say.
His lips twitch, like he’s suppressing a laugh. “I need to get something to eat. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”
“Oh no. I’ll make you something.” I start to walk toward the kitchen, but he catches me with a big, broad hand across my waist.
“You know what? I’ll raid your kitchen later,” he says, turning me toward him. “There’s something else I’d like to eat.”
Holy crap. No one’s ever said anything like that to me before. No one’s made me feel irresistible either. Maybe Hannah was right about this whole rebound thing.
Before I can respond, Rob reaches down and sweeps me off my feet and into his warm arms. He carries me with such ease that I’m both breathless and speechless as he whisks me up the stairs and toward my bedroom.
“How do you remember where it is?” I ask in an undertone.
“Oh, I never forget an ABBA poster,” he says, pushing the door open with his leg. After he carries me through, he shuts it the same way, then sets me down on the edge of my bed. I remove my Crocs, feeling almost shy now that I’ve managed to get him up here. He removes his boots too.
“Take off those little shorts, Sophie.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because I want to watch you do it,” he says. “I want to know you’re thinking about me burying my head between your legs.”
“Oh goodness.”
“Your grandmotherly phrases have have no place here, but they certainly won’t stop me. The only thing that will stop me is a no.”
I inch down my boxers, trying to make it look sexy even though I begin laughing uncontrollably, like I don’t know how to stop.
He grins at me, shaking his head a little, but then he freezes, and his gaze becomes intense as I shove the shorts down my legs and let them fall to the floor. Now I’m wearing only my Buchanan Brewery shirt, no bra, no shoes.
He swears. “You weren’t wearing anything underneath them?”
“The better to seduce you with,” I say, even though I’d planned nothing of the sort. I’d put them on for bed, thinking he’d blown me off.
The thought has the tartness of a lemon, and I feel a wave of doubt. Until he gets down on his knees in front of me. I’m still sitting, so his head is about level with mine, and he leans in to kiss me softly.
I’m glad he’s here. I’m glad I’m with him. I just need to keep reminding myself to stay in the moment, not to let my thoughts veer off into any dangerous tangents.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, pulling back slightly. His face is only inches from mine.
“Not a great time to ask.” His smile is close enough to kiss, so I do. “I’m sure about it,” I say, sounding more certain than I feel.
He traces a finger down the side of my face. “You don’t seem like the kind of woman who’d want no-strings rebound sex.”
For a second, I feel a nervous tension radiating through my chest. Is that what this is? Is that what I want it to be?
The fact that he’s asking the question suggests it’s what’s being offered, and that’s almost certainly for the best. After all, Rob is Jonah’s brother, and from what I can tell, he’s not someone my aunt would call a serious prospect. I’ve known him for almost a year, and even though we only saw each other a few times, he never once brought a girlfriend around or mentioned one. It was a Price family joke that he was never with the same woman twice. Then again, that might have been another way for them to drag him down, something they obviously enjoy doing.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve realized Rob is a good man. Funny and talented and interesting. And he cares about helping people.
I like him. A lot.
He’s also crazy hot, and I definitely want to have sex with him.
I’m not ready to consider anything more meaningful either, so why worry about what I might want in the future? Shouldn’t I just live in the now?
So I swallow my worry and say, “You don’t tell me what I want. Besides, I’ve asked Mrs. Ginnis, and she approves.”
He flashes me an impish grin. “What if I’d like to tell you what to do?”
Damn it. My body likes hearing that. A lot. “Maybe I’d allow it, under very specific circumstances.”
“Spread your legs for me.”
They open without bothering to check in with my brain. He glides his hands up my inner thighs, and the roughness of his calluses against the skin there drives every last worry out of my mind. “Your hands are so rough.” He laughs, and I rush to add, “In a good way. From playing, I guess. That feels really nice, and?—”
He leans in and kisses my inner thigh—very close to where I’m aching for him—and then lightly bites it. My eyes flutter open. Goodness. No one’s ever done that there before…
My legs open wider in silent invitation. I run my hand through his hair, grabbing on, as he spreads my legs wider and kisses his way inward, switching between my legs so neither gets lonely. It feels so otherworldly, so deeply good that the ache might kill me. Literally. He’s playing with me, toying with me, and I need his mouth on me. Now.
“ Rob. You’re in the wrong place.”
“Lie back and think of England,” he says devilishly as he tugs on my legs, pulling them over his shoulders.
Oh. Oh.
He sucks me in, his mouth so clever, and I bury my hand deeper into his hair, needing something to hang on to, because he’s really good at this.
Or are you just really into him? an aggravating voice asks, trying to steal me from the moment.
But I have to admit both things are true. If it had been someone else with their head between my legs—a stranger from a bar—it wouldn’t feel like this.
And then I can’t think anymore. Sensation and pleasure have so thoroughly taken hold of me that I can’t process anything but the feeling of his mouth on me and his soft, shaggy hair clutched in my hand. I’m overcome. I’m?—
“I’m coming,” I whisper, shocked, because usually it takes much longer than this, and my words have him sucking harder, moving his tongue in a way that makes me release a shocked moan as pleasure tightens its grip.
My body tenses and then releases, and I’m left with a feeling of serenity that’s frankly amazing.
He leans back, letting my feet drop to the floor, and makes a show of licking his lips.
I know I have to be blushing. “That was…wow.”
He smiles. “Good. Wow is my baseline. Anything below it, and I’d have work to do.”
I don’t like thinking about that, about all the other women he must have been with. The thought doesn’t last, though. I feel too good. And from the way he’s looking at me, he’s not done yet.
I reach for him and pull him on top of me. His body feels incredibly warm and big and firm. Very firm.
He kisses me and trails a hand up my shirt, and self-consciousness catches me unaware. My boobs have always been small— but perky! Hannah said when I brought it up. They’re a source of embarrassment and have been ever since I had to change in front of other girls in gym class. My exes never paid them much mind at all.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say, moving his hand.
“Does that mean you don’t want me to,” he asks, “or are you just informing me that I don’t have to?”
“I know they’re small. It’s not like I’m blind or anything.” I never would have been so direct with another man, but Rob has made it clear that this is a no-strings situation. Besides, I don’t feel nearly as self-conscious with him as I’ve felt with other people.
He lifts himself up so he can look me in the eye and very pointedly lifts the hem of my shirt. I let him help me take it off, but now I feel my cheeks burning.
“You have to take yours off too. It’s only fair,” I say.
His answer is to pull his shirt up by the hem—his arms flexing with the movement—and reveals a very nice, defined chest that I instantly want to run my fingers and tongue over.
I must say so out loud, because he says, “Me first.”
He caresses my breasts, then lowers his head to suck one nipple at a time, the sensation making the heat from my cheeks invade every inch of my body.
“They’re perfect,” he says, lifting his head again. He sounds a bit angry about it, frankly.
“They’re not?—”
“They are. They’re absolutely perfect, exactly the way they are. I could write a song about your nipples.”
“Please don’t,” I say. And then he’s grinning at me in that teasing way of his, and I feel a rush of fondness. It twines with the need I feel, driven by the sensation of him against me—his mouth and hands on me and the feeling of him hard and demanding inside of his pants.
I lower my hand below his waistband and trace the hard length of him. Excitement spirals through me, especially when he releases an impatient moan, bowing his head to kiss my throat, then my lower lip, while his hand caresses my breast. Treating it like it really is perfect.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask, my whole body tingling at the thought of having him inside me. I need that. Now.
“Uh, no,” he says, pulling back. “I didn’t come over here thinking you were into that. I wasn’t sure you’d even talk to me.”
“You don’t keep one in your wallet?”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Do you?”
I suppose he has a point.
He runs a hand through his hair. “You don’t…you know, have any here?”
He means from when Jonah and I were sleeping together. “Oh, no. I threw them all away as part of my purge.”
His lips form a half-second smile, but it drops quickly, probably because I’m still moving my fingers against his hardness, unwilling to stop.
It’s just, he’s here in my room, and suddenly I can’t get enough of him.
I don’t know if this is ever going to happen again, and it’s horrifying to think that I might not get the Rob Price experience in full.
“I could ask my cousin,” I say, inspired.
“You’re going to ask your cousin for a condom?” he asks flatly.
“Yes.”
“You’re that desperate for my dick?” He moves over me, pressing it into me, and the truth tumbles out:
“Yes.”
He swears under his breath, then kisses me beneath my ear. “That’s incredibly hot. You drive me crazy.”
I feel giddy with a sense of victory. He’s a very sexy man, undoubtedly very experienced, but I drive him crazy. That doesn’t sound vanilla, now does it?
“I’m going to do it,” I say, bucking my hips so he’s pressed where I want him, separated only by his pants. “I really am.”
He groans as I give him a final squeeze before getting up.
His gaze lingers on me, as if he’s mapping me inside his brain. “You’re gorgeous.”
I feel it.
I throw the shirt on quickly, followed by the shorts. I probably look insane, and I’m never going to live this down. But I need this to happen. If it doesn’t, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. Probably eat more ice cream with a fork.
I leave the room, shutting the door behind me, and march down the hallway to Otis’s room. I lose steam as I reach his door. I mean. I don’t know anything about Otis’s sex life beyond that movie he was watching earlier. What if he’s a virgin? Will he be offended if I ask him for condoms?
Then I remember Rob between my legs, my hand gripping his messy hair.
I want his dick. I think it’s the win I need tonight.
I gather myself and knock on the door. Otis opens it, releasing a billow of skunk smell.
His eyes widen, either because of my sex hair or because he realizes that I must know what he was doing in there—breaking one of Aunt Penny’s edicts against any kind of smoking in the house.
“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell my grandmother,” he says, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Tell her what?” I ask.
He grins, then glances down the hallway. “Is Rob still here?”
“Uh…I need to ask for a return favor.”
“You want some pot?” he asks, shoving his hand into his pocket. “I’ll give you some, no problem, but it’s not very good. It’s kind of skunky, and?—”
“I need a condom.”
He looks like he’s about to choke on his own spit. And I feel a surge of regret that I’m hoping will dissipate the second I get back to the smoking hot man in my room.
“Uh…are you sure about this? He’s a good guy and all, but you were pretty upset with him earlier. I mean, I figure it’s for you and Rob, but maybe I’m making assumptions. I guess you could have had someone else come over after he left, and?—”
“It’s Rob. But you can’t tell anyone.”
He stares at me silently, and I’m so embarrassed I think I might actually transcend my body. Finally, he says, “I thought Rob was your fake boyfriend. Don’t you want people to think you’re sleeping together?”
When he puts it that way, it does sound like a tangled web. “Yeah, I guess, but you know, maybe don’t make a point of mentioning it to anyone other than Hannah and Briar. I’ll have to tell them.”
“I don’t discuss your sex life with my friends, Soph. But, you know, sure.”
He pops into his room and returns seconds later, dangling a row of brightly colored condoms. There must be fifteen of them.
Oh, thank goodness. It would have been so much worse to make this request and get nothing out of it.
“You know,” he says, handing me the condoms, “I listed your wedding dress earlier.”
“You did?” I say, my heart feeling gooey. He said he was going to do it, of course, but in the past he hasn’t always been great about following through.
“There’s already been some interest, but you know, Soph…”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful. I’ve learned as much about wedding dresses as I care to, so I’d rather not have to sell another.” He pauses, fussing with his hair. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
Emotion balls in my throat. “Thanks, Otis.” I lift the row of colorful condoms. “And thanks for these. Let’s never, ever talk about it again.”
“Talk about what?” he asks with a goofy grin.