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I find Christopher in his office, twirling a pen idly in his fingers and looking thoughtfully at the picture Misty drew for him.
“That’s you,” I tell him, pointing to the man in the picture with really big hands standing next to a red dog. “Misty wanted to make you something to thank you for working on Rusty. It helped keep her mind off things.”
“You’re good with kids,” Christopher says. He pins the picture to the bulletin board behind his desk. “They like you.”
“They recognize a fellow child.”
He shakes his head. “You’re good with them because you care. You have a big heart, Stella. You take care of everyone around you.”
I’m not sure what to do with that. “Thanks.”
He hears the catch in my throat, the way I raise my voice so that it comes out more like a question.
He stretches. “Long day.”
The longest. If he were really my boyfriend, I’d rub his shoulders right now. I’d hold his face in my hands and kiss the tight line of his lips until he relaxed them soft again. I’d take him home and draw a bath and we could sink into the hot water and let our bones melt. We’d pull back the covers of my bed and slide in, naked and weak, wanting nothing but slumber. I’d curl around him, my hand on his heart so I could protect it while he slept.
I shake my head at the elaborate fantasy I’ve constructed of the two of us sleeping. It seems too intimate, too precious. Our relationship isn’t like that. It’s jagged and sharp, the difference between sea glass and a broken beer bottle.
He’s pondering the expression on my face, so I paste over my sudden disappointment that I’ll never have the soothing warm intimate nap with him. We are either high boil or freezer burn.
“Stella, I really appreciate everything you have done today. I don’t think I’ve ever had a harder, more heartbreaking day in my career. I’m glad Rusty is okay, but this afternoon... I’ve had to put animals down before. I know what’s humane...but...the way she screamed when we...” He closes his eyes, the memory probably playing across his mind on a vicious reel.
“You did everything you could for those cats and for Mrs. Bain. You did good work today, Christopher.”
He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ve never heard a woman wail like that.”
“She’s sick. She needs help. She loved those cats, but she can’t take care of them. It wouldn’t be humane to leave them there. And the ones that were suffering...Christopher, I was so proud to be by your side today.”
His eyes fly open. “Proud?”
“Yeah, proud. You really stepped up in a tough situation. You helped keep the rest of us on task and calm.”
“Because I’m cold and detached.”
“No...no. Nobody thinks that. You were attentive and thorough and calm.”
He shakes his head and traces the outline of his super big hands on the drawing Misty made of him. “I couldn’t have been any of those things without you today. You seemed to know what I needed before I knew I needed it.” He looks at me with the emotion he couldn’t show when we were in that house. “I needed you today, and you came through. Thank you.”
I don’t know what it cost him to say he needed anything, much less me. So, I nod like it’s no big thing. “Hey, I know we talked about making a public appearance at Ironwing tonight, but it’s late,” I say.
He looks beat, and I know I am. The adrenaline rush from the emergency on top of the horrible, no-good day at Mrs. Bain’s house has turned time into molasses.
“Yeah, the pub is out for me, too. I just want to go home, put my feet up, and eat salad straight from the jar.” Wow, did he just make a joke? I’m still chuckling when he adds, “Wanna come?”
It’s possible I didn’t hear that correctly. “You want me to go home with you? No one will see us together.” It won’t be part of our ruse.
“I know neither of us wants a real relationship, Stella. But I’d like us to be friends. And friends have dinner together sometimes.”
He hasn’t brought up if any benefits come with this friendship, but it’s probably best that they don’t. My fantasy of intimate sleeping be damned.
“Salad it is.”
Leann Anderson lives in the house behind the office, so we zombie shamble over after we close up. He pours wine while I dish us up—we will not eat directly from the jar, thank you very much. We sit on the couch in front of the television, and we both stare at the remote. Because now what?
Chances are pretty good that we will find nothing to agree on no matter how many channels Dr. Anderson subscribes to.
“What’s your favorite movie, Dr. Doolittle?” I ask him, kicking off my shoes and using the armrest of the couch against my back. He pulls my feet into his lap before leaning back with his dinner.
Well, okay then.
“If I’m trying to impress someone, my favorite movie is Shawshank Redemption.”
“And when you’re being real?”
“Toy Story.”
I feel like a fifty-pound weight gets lifted off my heart when we both laugh. Nodding to the remote, I say, “See if you can find it.”
We watch the movie as we eat dinner. When it’s over, he queues up the original Top Gun while I run the dishes to the sink. Top Gun because he didn’t believe me when I told him Leann Anderson was an extra in the bar when they sing that song to Kelly McGillis. When I get back to the couch, he’s got a blanket out and he spreads it over our laps when I sit next to him.
Devon and I never did this. We didn’t hang out. We went clubbing or drinking. But we never spent time with each other to be with each other. That’s what friends are for. And Devon was never my friend. I watch movies with Perry, usually. But this, just letting go of a shared long day and laughing and relaxing next to Christopher is...well, nice. I’m sure there are better words for it. But nice feels really good to me.
I barely make it through the volleyball scene before my eyelids get heavy. I don’t know how much time has passed when I open them again. The movie is over. The home screen is on the TV. I’m using Christopher’s shoulder as a pillow and he’s lightly snoring. Which is good because it gives me a chance to wipe off the drool collecting on my chin.
I’m debating my next move when Christopher wakes up. He’s got his arm around me and he squeezes, kissing my hair. Moving so I can see his face, I try to figure this guy out.
He looks relaxed and at peace, and his fingers are combing through my hair gently.
Is he awake or is he sleep-combing? “Christopher?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
I warm all the way through. “You are?”
His hand moves to my jaw, cupping it while he carefully considers my face. There’s a tenderness I’m not used to in his eyes. A glowing ember instead of a shooting spark. “I really am.”
Slowly, like I’m afraid it might be the wrong move, I turn my face into his palm and press a kiss there. He swallows hard, calmly takes off his glasses, and flings them onto the coffee table so he can get his other hand on my face and bring me to a kiss.
I’m still sleep warmed and groggy. Maybe I’m the one who is dreaming. He would never throw his glasses, would he? Not Dr. Retentive.
He tilts my head to get a better angle. How can every kiss we share be so different from the last? This one...it’s sexy and deep and slow with a reverence that squeezes my heart. For once, he’s not frustrated with me. Nobody is trying to prove a point or convince bystanders we’re a couple. It’s just the two of us being...us. He coaxes me up and onto his lap without ever stopping his drugging assault on my mouth. His strong hands clutch me like I’m precious and I sink into him, groaning as I rub against the hardness of his erection.
“What you do to me, Stella,” he tells me between kisses.
I want to know. I want to hear. But now is not a time for conversation and everything inside me lights up being in this man’s arms. Desperate to be closer, I start tearing off my clothes, but his strong arms band around me. “Wait. Just wait. Slow. I want to show you.”
“I want to see whatever you’re showing, believe me. Just do it faster.”
He laughs. And then he’s feeding me kisses and pulling me into his hard body until I feel that sweet high that usually only happens after coming. He lays me down on the couch and removes my clothes carefully, kissing my skin as it’s exposed, until I’m in my panties and he’s still dressed.
“I didn’t take my time with you on Sunday. That was a mistake.”
“The mistake is you’re still wearing clothes.”
“I’m going to enjoy every minute of torturing you, Stella. Every inch of you is mine.” He licks my neck below my ear. “This taunts me every day.” He sucks hard and my hips jerk up reflexively.
He growls as his hands pin my arms down and he moves his roving mouth lower, sucking my nipples into his hot, wet mouth. I strain against him, but he’s pinned me to the couch, his strong body turning me on even more as he overpowers me.
He stays on my breasts a long time, groaning into my skin. “So good, baby.”
Did he just call me baby? He doesn’t seem to be the kind of guy who uses endearments easily. But I could be reading too much into it. Maybe because I want it to mean something. I want this to mean something, even if it’s not forever.
Nothing wrong with making a moment count.
I’ve never had a problem with sex for sex’s sake. But I’m having a hard time keeping my heart out of this. His earthy scent, his words, the time he’s taking, the way he dominates my senses...it’s pushing me further and further underwater. I don’t want air. I don’t need air. I just need him.
“I want your skin, doc. Take off these clothes.”
He gives a slow, masculine smile, and I feel bits of my heart chip off like stardust. “So take what you want, Stella.”
He rolls us over so I am on top.
I know he wants slow, so I pace myself. Starting with the top button of his shirt, using just my fingertips, I release each button one at a time, spreading the shirt while just barely skimming his chest, yet grinding against the bulge in his pants.
“I love the way you’re looking at me right now.”
“I love looking at you.” I swipe my hand across his chest and down, his muscles jump reflexively under my hands. “I love touching you, too.” My hands continue to rove over the mountains and valleys of his cut torso, the soft, downy happy trail showing me the way to where I want to be.
Then he flips us again.
“I got you, now.”
“I guess you do. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“Always need to challenge me, don’t you?” A dimple flashes and he bites my nipple. The surge of pure animal desire courses through me. “What am I going to do about it? Stella, I’m going to do everything.”
My body is humming at his promise. Christopher buries his face in my panties, sucking my pussy through the material. His mouth so hot I squirm. I want him inside me. I want everything.
“I need you in my bed this time.” He gets off me, and I miss the weight of him instantly. He pulls me up and grasps me tightly in his strong embrace. Kissing me while he walks backward to the hall. Thankfully, he pulls me into the guest room. I’m not sure I could do it in my boss’s bed. “Get on the bed. And finish getting naked.”
I oblige with no argument because he is stripping his pants while he watches me. I didn’t get to see him our first time. It’s not a complaint, just an observation.
He squeezes the tip of his cock before I get a good look. It can’t be that he’s trying to not come already, can it? Is he that worked up? What I can see has me salivating.
He’s thick and heavy, sprouting proudly from a dark nest of curls. He’s leaking with desire, the tip of him glistening. That confident smile on his face is cocky, and he gives himself a few long, unhurried strokes knowing I’m watching.
He opens a drawer and grabs a box, putting it in easy reach.
Christopher looks at me and murmurs appreciatively. He crawls onto the bed, lowering his face, spreading me open. “This pussy. Fuck.” He grips the back of my legs tighter and licks the sensitive bud. A tremor runs through me, and he buries his face in my body.
The licks, the sucks, the bites, the kisses are not controlled. The man is feasting on me and the noises he’s making are clearly those of a happy man. He thrusts his tongue inside me, and my muscles tighten. Christopher proceeds to edge me, seriously edge me, until I lose track of time. I can’t tell you my name. I don’t know what day of the week it is. I don’t think gravity applies to me personally any longer because I’m floating and all I know is his voice, his breath, his mouth.
“I’m going to fuck you now, baby.” He lays his cock against my center, so I feel its girth, its length.
He presses against my opening and then pushes in, slow. He takes it slow, slower than I want, to be honest, and lets me get used to him. Christopher feels so big and solid. I’m intensely full. I think I can hear colors and taste sounds.
He starts picking up the pace, pushing deeper into me, rubbing against me just right. He’s getting both my G-spot and my clit on his strokes, and I wasn’t sure I even had a G-spot.
“You’re so tight. You feel amazing.” Christopher’s eyes turn hard with lust, and he crosses over into something more primal. I wrap my legs around him as he grabs the back of my head and kisses me ruthlessly. I taste myself in his mouth. His thrusts are deep and perfect.
Light flashes behind my eyes as I leave the planet and hurl into space. Christopher’s eyes squeeze closed, and he shudders, calling out my name.
The weight of his body on top of me is the only thing keeping me from floating away. He kisses my face, my hair, the spot above my hair, and gently rolls off me.
“Stella?”
Please don’t make this awkward. “Yeah?”
“I see stars.”
“Me, too, honeybuns.”
He pinches me. Then pulls me closer. “I need a nap and a shower.” He rolls to his feet and takes off the condom. “C’mon.” He pulls me out of this bed. “You’re a very, very dirty girl, and I have some ideas about what I’d like to do about that in the shower.”
“I don’t think I can walk.”
“What if I make it a bath instead of a shower?”
I have been in Doc Anderson’s tub when I housesit for her, and it’s worth finding the will to walk. “You want to take a bath with me?” I ask, remembering my fantasy from earlier.
“Stella, I want to do just about every damn thing with you.”
I know he’s talking about sex stuff, but for just a second, I wonder what it would be like if he meant more than that.
Though I’m good with the sex stuff, too. Don’t get me wrong. I have a feeling this guy could push all my boundaries there too.