Page 19
CHAPTER 19
Farren
I wake up in North’s bed alone but this time, I’m not worried something’s wrong. It’s late morning and he’s let me sleep in.
That tells me a few things.
First, that he likes me in his bed, even if he’s not in it. If I were to take him up on his ridiculous offer to move in with him, I know he’d want me here every night and not in a separate room. If I’m honest with myself, I’d prefer to be here too.
It also tells me that he’s feeling better. He’s naturally an early riser, wanting to get started on his day no matter the schedule. As a night owl, especially when I’m tending bar, I sleep late. I’m sort of wired that way, but I have been getting up early when he does.
What I ultimately conclude is that North was very quiet getting up this morning, and I was so comfortable in his bed that I slept right through his exit.
None of that seems to bode well for my determination to keep things light and casual with him. He’s being thoughtful and my own sense of self-preservation seems to be all wonky when I’m around him.
He said it last night. “I’m different from what you’ve had before. Focus on that.”
He’d be shocked to know that I’ve thought about that a great deal. Every time I get a flash of panic that he’s getting too close to me, I take stock of just how different he’s been from anyone that I’ve ever dated. I play through my mind how much fun we have, how he makes me laugh, how I’m excited to see him, how I love him holding me at night and how combustible we are in bed. All things that make him different and I think about it a lot.
I know he thinks those are things in his favor, but they’re marks against him.
Those wonderful things make him dangerous.
They make me want to open up to him and take a risk, but that means that I might be willing to get hurt again.
It means I’m getting weak. That I’m falling prey to the same insidious need for someone to want me, just like I did all those years ago, and I can’t have that.
I swore to myself I’d never be that frail of mind again.
Groaning, because this is all so confusing, I roll over and press my face into his pillow. It smells like North, and my body reacts to the masculine scent of his body wash. He’s all man and God help me but that turns me on.
I roll to my back, staring at the ceiling. It doesn’t take much for him to turn me on. It’s not just knowing what he can do to me and trust me… he can make my body sing. But it’s his confidence in himself that makes him so sexy.
It’s infuriating, of course, because he wields it like a weapon, making me forget all about my sworn commitment to avoid… well, commitment.
I blow out a breath as I consider my options.
I could insist on going back to where we were. I stay with Rafferty, see North on occasion and we keep this just as a physical coming together of bodies.
I could keep things status quo. Continue to still have all the sexual benefits, but we also hang together. Go on dates, enjoy each other’s company, have fun as a couple.
Or I could even take it a step further and move into his place. That’s probably the worst idea because that would egg North on to keep hammering at me for more. It would be a win I don’t want him to hold over me.
It would be easiest to keep this focused on sex. It’s the best I’ve ever had in my life, so why not just make that the center of what we have?
“You’re awake.”
I jolt, lift my head and see North standing in the doorway. He presses his hands into the doorframe above his head, causing his shirt to ride up and expose the muscular ridge of his belly. He’s got on a pair of sweats that hang low on his hips.
“I made you some blueberry pancakes. You said they were your favorite.”
Right there.
That’s what scares me. The beautiful effort to do something that shows he cares for me. It’s not about the depth, which, the deeper the scarier, for sure. It’s about the fact he did it and he’s not trying to impress me. He’s doing it because that’s just who he is.
“Get out of bed, sleepyhead. Come eat.”
He turns away and pads into the kitchen while I consider my next move. He’s in control and I have to set the tone going forward.
North’s back is to me when I walk into the kitchen. I watch as he plates blueberry pancakes and I know I should be grateful for the gesture.
But I can’t because that means he’s getting too close, and I can’t afford for that to happen. I need him to remember that what we have is a friends-with-benefits relationship and nothing more. The only way to make him remember that is to show him right this very moment how unimportant blueberry pancakes are to me, and how much I want just him.
Right here. Right now.
In this kitchen .
North senses me, turning to glance over his shoulder, and he finds me standing gloriously naked. My shoulders are back, head held high, and I slowly slide my hand down the center of my chest, over my abdomen to hover just over my pubic bone. His eyes are hot, following that trail, and he drops the plate of food onto the counter with a clatter.
His eyes roam over me hungrily as I saunter closer to him until I can feel his breath across my cheek. I wait for him to say something, perhaps chastisement for ruining his breakfast, but instead he brings a hand to my waist and his fingertips dig in slightly. I shiver under his touch, aching to feel him against me.
With a low growl, North pulls me flush against his body, our mouths crashing together in a violent kiss. It’s all teeth and tongues, passionate and demanding. It’s a hundred miles per hour out of the gate—our normal speed—and I melt into him.
Large hands at my hips push me backward until I come up against the cold ledge of the kitchen counter. Without breaking our kiss, he lifts me up and settles me on the edge. My legs naturally wrap around his waist and I scoot forward so I can grind against the lower part of his belly.
I feel his thick cock through the fabric of his sweats and slip my hands under his T-shirt to glide up his torso. A groan rumbles and he breaks the kiss only to shuck his shirt to give me more access to his skin. I have learned so much about North, but my favorite is that he just loves being touched everywhere.
Our movements grow frantic, all thoughts of pancakes long gone. North’s calloused hands roam my bare skin, igniting sparks of pleasure with every caress. I arch into him, locking my legs tight around his back. I want him inside me and I want it now.
He knows what I want too and his hand goes to my ass, pulling me forward to press me against him harder. His thick shaft rubs between my legs, the material of his sweats only making the friction better.
North’s lips move across to my jaw, down my neck and then his teeth graze the sensitive skin at my collarbone, causing a savage shiver to run through me. I gasp and tilt my head, silently begging for more while my fingertips work to push the front of his sweatpants down. Thank God he doesn’t have them tied and he tilts his hips back to help me free him.
His cock is thick and hot in my hand, and I stroke the velvety length, scoot forward even more so my ass is nearly hanging off and rub the crown through my slickened folds.
“God damn,” he moans and without preamble, he surges forward, sheathing himself in me in one smooth thrust.
I cry out from the invasion, not because it hurts but because it feels so good, I might cry tears of joy.
North’s hand grips my hair and his face hovers over mine. He stares at me as his hips snap back and forth, slamming into me over and over again. I press one hand onto the counter, the other to his shoulder, and I hang on as he rails me right there beside his fragrant and perfectly crisped plate of blueberry pancakes.
Every thrust has me soaring, pleasure wracking my body with convulsive tremors. He drives into me with such power and confidence, I feel dizzy with the thrill of it all. The slapping sounds of our bodies mingle with grunts and moans.
North’s mouth is back on mine, swallowing all the crazy sounds I’m producing, continually hammering my body with his. He hits that one perfect spot and the coiled tension of an orgasm breaks free, causing me to scream out in pleasure.
I see stars, the orgasm crushing me in waves, and I’m vaguely aware of the doorbell chiming. North ignores it, slamming into me harder, and I swear my orgasm flares back to life. I cry out and his hand comes down over my mouth, eyes pinned to mine. They’re feverish, intense with a slight glitter of amusement. He growls low in his throat, eyes closing in ecstasy as he comes inside me, his hips still working shallowly for continued friction. With a few more ragged thrusts, he removes his hand from my mouth and presses his forehead to mine. Our chests heave and my entire body feels boneless.
I cling to North even as the doorbell rings again.
“That’s your brother,” he says, reluctantly pulling out of me.
“What?!” I exclaim, jumping off the counter and grabbing a paper towel to press between my legs.
North tucks himself in, pulls his sweats up. “He texted he was coming over this morning to check on me. I was making pancakes for him too.”
“You could have told me before I… before I…” I wave my hand wildly at the counter. “Before I let you do that to me.”
North smirks. “You did that to yourself, walking in here naked like that. What did you think was going to happen?”
Yeah, I knew exactly what was going to happen. My big nefarious plan was to minimize the joy of him making me breakfast by focusing on sex, and somehow that feels flat to me.
“I suggest you get dressed,” North says, hands to my shoulders to turn me toward the hallway that leads to the master. He gives me a slap on my butt that produces a tiny, pleasurable sting.
Not the first time he’s spanked me and hopefully not the last. I glare at him over my shoulder and scurry to the bedroom for clothes.
I leave the door open just a crack so I can listen in on their conversation while I get dressed. It’s boring and focuses on the game, and I’m thankful they’re not talking about me.
When I return to the kitchen, I’m hoping Rafferty can’t take one look at his sister and know I was just having sex next to the plate of pancakes he has before him. He’s chowing down while North is at the griddle with another batch.
He glances back at me. “How many do you want?”
“Two,” I say, moving to Rafferty where I bend down to kiss him on the cheek. “What are you doing here?”
“Just wanted to check on North to see how he was doing,” my brother says.
“You couldn’t have called? Texted for an update?” I ask from the coffee pot where I pour myself a cup. I reach over and automatically top off North’s without thinking, something I’ve been doing the last few days.
Rafferty takes a big bite and chews while smiling slyly at me. When he swallows, he says, “Maybe I wanted to see things for myself. Make sure you took good care of him.”
“I took excellent care of him.” I sniff, resting against the counter and taking a sip of my coffee.
“She was the best nurse I could have hoped for,” North says, giving me a tender look that makes my heart flippity-flop, and I hate the traitorous bastard of a blood pumping muscle for being so weak .
“Coach said you’re coming back to practice tomorrow,” Rafferty says. “You up to it?”
“Damn right, I am,” North says.
There’s no doubt he’s recovered. He had no problem just now banging my brains out and barely broke a sweat.
North flips two hotcakes onto a plate and hands them to me.
“Thank you,” I murmur and before I can even freaking help myself, I go to my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.
I see the flare of shock in his eyes that I would do something so non-sexual and I can’t help but chuckle.
When I turn to the table, I see Rafferty watching me with amusement. “What?” I snap at him, taking a seat at the table to his right.
“Nothing,” he says, gaze dropping to his plate where he spears another forkful. When he looks back up, he teases, “It’s just nice seeing you all sweet and domesticated.”
“Will you shut the fuck up?” North grumbles, but it’s in good nature. “You want her to run from me?”
“I’m going to bet she won’t,” Rafferty says, wearing a shit-eating grin.
“I’d rather you not bet on such things,” North says, sitting on the other side of my brother. “I’ve got my own methods of trying to win her over and you forcing things isn’t the way. ”
“What exactly is your game plan?” Raff asks.
“Well—”
“Um, excuse me,” I interject, waving my fork between the two of them. “Stop talking about me as if I’m not here.”
Rafferty guffaws and pushes my shoulder lightly. “Just getting your goat, little sis. Trust me, I’m happy to stay out of it.”
I glance at North and his eyes are twinkling, making it perfectly clear he was playing along with my shit of a brother. I roll my eyes at both of them and tuck into my food, which is freaking delicious.
“Actually,” Rafferty says, garnering my attention. “Foster said that Mazzy might have a bead on a nice bar that’s hiring. High end, big tippers.”
“She sing there?” I ask.
“Sometimes,” Rafferty replies. “But she’s not doing that too much because of Bowie Jane. Want me to give you her phone number?”
“I’ve got it,” I reply, shoving another bite in my mouth. It truly is time for me to get off my ass and find a job because I do need to pay Rafferty some rent if I’m going to stay there.
I could stay here rent-free with North, but that’s not something that’s a serious consideration for me just yet. Still reeks too much of commitment, despite his attempts to spin it as roommates .
“Please call her,” Rafferty says. “You really need a job.”
“I know,” I grumble, not liking the reminder I’m being useless. But damn, it’s been hard getting motivated to find that type of work again. I don’t do it because I love it. I do it because I have no other appreciable skills. “Can I catch a ride home with you? I need to get some laundry done.”
I wait for North to tell me I can do my clothes here, but he remains quiet.
“Sure,” Rafferty says.
“Let me grab a quick shower. I can be ready in half an hour.”
I head into the master bedroom, pulling out my last set of clean clothes, and when I turn toward the bathroom, I see North standing there. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah… why?”
“It’s just… you don’t seem all that anxious about the bartending job, and well, you’ve been kind of spinning your wheels. I know you could find a dozen jobs tomorrow if you wanted.”
I huff out a sigh of frustration. “I know. I guess I got a little lazy.”
North shakes his head. “That’s not it. You’re not a lazy person.”
“Fine,” I admit. “I don’t particularly like bartending. Happy you got me to admit that?”
North blinks in surprise. “Am I the only person you’ve ever admitted that to?”
“Yes,” I say. “Now, excuse me… I need to shower.”
North lets me go but he does look thoughtful, as if this conversation isn’t over yet.
Fine by me. It’s no secret I’m aimless and haven’t found my calling in life.