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Tasha couldn’t sleep.
She blamed it on the howling wind and the unheated motel room. She had fuzzy socks and a big sweater and several blankets, and she still didn’t feel warm enough. She was even contemplating putting her toque back on, over her silk scarf.
No, she shouldn’t lie to herself.
The reason she couldn’t sleep was because Greg was lying next to her.
They were sharing a queen-size bed. There was a healthy distance between them, but she was quite conscious of his presence.
And he’d kissed her.
All those years ago, she’d been the one who’d kissed him first. He’d asked her on a date. It was May, and, stammering, he’d suggested a picnic.
She smiled at the memory. How many sixteen-year-old boys would pack a proper lunch—not just a bag of chips and some pop—in a wicker basket and bring it to the park by the lake? He’d made a pasta salad, and there was also a baguette and two types of cheese—cheap marble and cheddar, but still—and juice and chocolate. More than once, he’d leaned forward, and she’d thought he was going to kiss her, but he didn’t.
So, finally, she’d taken matters into her own hands.
She wanted to kiss him again tonight. She wanted to do more than that, in all honesty.
It didn’t have to mean anything. She’d simply found herself in bed with a handsome man from her past who could kiss the daylights out of her; they could have their fun while they were trapped in the snowstorm, then head their separate ways tomorrow.
She never got involved with an ex-boyfriend, not since Lance, but they wouldn’t be getting involved.
No, they’d just have a bit of fun.
Liar.
Tasha shoved that stupid voice out of her brain. It didn’t know what it was talking about.
Next to her, Greg rolled over and sighed. Apparently, he couldn’t sleep, either. Hopefully it was because he, too, was thinking about their kiss.
Or possibly he was planning his next birdwatching expedition. It was hard to know.
Damn, why did she find his hobbies so endearing?
And, like, kind of sexy?
Perhaps because he was so unreservedly himself. Like in high school, when he’d never tried to fit in.
“I can’t sleep,” she said.
“I can’t sleep, either.”
Greg was thorough and detail-oriented, and it wasn’t surprising he’d remembered the spot just below her jaw that she liked. He could also be rather intense, like in his hatred for Christmas music—though she could have sworn his lips had quirked up when she was singing—but she’d experienced that intensity focused on her, and there was nothing else like it.
She couldn’t suppress a shudder.
“Are you cold?” he asked, his quiet, concerned voice coming through the darkness. “Do you want one of the sleeping bags? I don’t think this building has very good insulation, in addition to the lack of heating. Or...never mind.”
“Or, what?”
“We could cuddle.” He cleared his throat. “Share body heat. You know.”
“Maybe after.”
“After what?”
“We have sex. If you’re interested.”
There was a long silence.
Yes, he’d kissed her, but maybe she’d miscalculated.
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine,” she said in a rush. “I just figured we might as well. It wouldn’t mean anything, of course, but I haven’t had sex in a while, and I know we can make each other feel good, and that kiss was pretty great, wasn’t it?”
Oh, no. She was babbling, and she couldn’t see his expression.
And then he was on top of her, and she melted into the soft mattress.
“I’m interested,” he said.
“Oh.” She released a breath. “Well, then.” She paused. “Shit, I don’t have any condoms.”
“Don’t worry. I do.”
Of course he did. He was prepared for everything. It only stood to reason that a guy who had two sleeping bags, a kettle, and a space heater in his trunk would also have condoms.
The mattress shifted, and she missed his weight and heat on top of her, but it wasn’t long before he returned.
“I have two requests,” he said.
“Yes?”
“I’d like to turn the light on so I can see you.”
She wasn’t usually self-conscious about her body, but Greg had seen her naked when she was young and thin and had a flat stomach.
“Tasha?” he said softly. “Is that okay?”
“I don’t look like I did when I was nineteen. I’ve gained at least twenty-five pounds.”
“So have I.”
“But yours is mostly muscle.” She bet he had a regimented fitness routine. That seemed like Greg. She couldn’t wait to touch him all over.
“You’ve been checking me out, have you?”
“Yeah, when you were whining about Christmas music.”
“I wasn’t whining.”
“Fine. Making your displeasure known in a non-whiny way.”
“That’s better.”
“You can turn on the light,” she said, “and you can touch me anywhere you want, but don’t completely remove my sweater, because I’m cold.”
“Anything else?” He wasn’t much of a talker in the bedroom, but he’d always wanted to know how she felt and what she wanted.
“No, but you said you had a second request?”
“Yes. You can say my name, but please be quieter than Ethel and Herbie.”
“That sounds soooo difficult, because I’m sure you’ll make me feel soooo good.”
“Tasha,” he said sternly.
Ooh, she’d missed his stern voice.
“Okay, I’ll behave,” she said.
He flicked on the lamp by the side of the bed. “No, you won’t.” His dark eyes were intent on her face, and her breath came faster. “But I like it that way.”
“Take off your clothes,” she commanded. “All of them.”
“As you wish.”
“Unless you’re going to be too cold.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He pulled his shirt over his head, and she swallowed hard. He really did look good.
He smirked as she lay there admiring at him, and then he stripped off his pajama pants and boxers in one smooth move. She couldn’t help staring at his cock, long and heavy between his legs.
He lay on top of her again, and her sweater rode up as her arms went around him, exposing a slice of her skin to his.
“How are you so hot?” she murmured.
“May I ask which meaning of the word you’re using?”
Well, both, but... “There’s no heat in the room, and yet you’re warm.”
He tugged off her pants. His warmer legs tangled with hers, and she gasped as he rocked his hips. “I’m going to heat you up.”
His hands slipped under her sweater and cupped her breasts. He rubbed the tip of one nipple between his fingers. As his mouth descended to hers, she couldn’t help but imagine him doing this with other women. Being naked in bed, using his adorably stern voice on them.
No, it seemed wrong. He was hers. She’d found him first.
You’re dating Greg? Her friends hadn’t understood the appeal. Sure, he was decent-looking, but wasn’t he a little weird?
She’d felt like she was in on some great secret.
She pushed aside her thoughts of the past, as well as her jealousy. It had been many years, and she doubted Greg had had a ton of sexual partners, but of course he’d had some—he’d had three relationships, after all.
Besides, she wouldn’t have wanted him to be celibate...and perhaps he’d picked up some useful skills in that time.
She giggled as his head disappeared under her sweater. He brought the tip of one nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. Then he did something with his mouth that defied description, but it felt amazing.
His head reappeared, and he shifted up her body.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m good. Very good.”
When they were younger, they’d been eager but also hesitant; it was different now. She brought her hands down to his firm ass and gave it a squeeze, not at all ashamed that this was what she wanted to do.
His palms slid over her nipples then her belly, smoothing a path down her legs, then back to her ass, and all the while he kissed her mouth in a heated, yet deliberate way.
He still had a little too much control for her liking. She’d always delighted in making him lose himself, when he was normally such a sensible, measured person.
She wiggled her ass and spread her legs so his cock rubbed against the juncture of her thighs. He grunted.
She hadn’t heard this particular grunt in a while, because he only made it when they were in bed together. Or in a parked car, or in a snow fort. It was the one he made when he was turned on.
She was an expert in his noises.
He continued to run his warm hands all over her cooler skin—she’d forgotten how large his hands were—and every part of her body tingled in the wake of his touch.
“How long has it been for you?” she asked suddenly.
“Oh, about four years. Since my last relationship ended.”
“Four years?”
“Yes.” His eyes danced with amusement. “Surprised?”
“Let’s hope you’re not rusty.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” he murmured.
“It’s been four months for me.”
“Mm.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Just an acknowledgment of your words.” He paused. “No judgment. I wanted you to have lots of, uh, experiences.”
Before she could reply, he cupped her mound over her underwear. Not a particularly pretty pair, as she certainly hadn’t expected this to happen.
He held her gaze, and when she nodded, he slipped them off and tossed them somewhere among all the blankets on the bed. Then he rubbed two long fingers over her entrance, groaning as he pushed them inside her. “You feel so good, Tasha.”
She was practically trembling, and he wasn’t even moving his fingers. Why wasn’t he moving his fingers?
She circled her hips, desperate for more, and he laughed softly in her ear.
“Yes,” he said, “be greedy.”
And with that, his head disappeared under the covers. He licked over her slit, nice and slow.
She nearly jumped off the bed. Dear God, his mouth was incredible.
He continued to lick her as he leisurely thrust his fingers in and out, and she could hear her moisture as he moved. He nuzzled her inner thigh, his stubble rubbing over her sensitive skin.
Ohhh.
“Any complaints about my rustiness?” he asked, his words muffled by the blankets.
“No. None at all.”
And then he was eating her out as though he was a starving man who hadn’t eaten a meal in, well, four years. She gripped the comforter and bucked against his face, close but not quite there. And he would know that, because over the time they’d been together, he’d learned how to read her well, learned how to give her the best oral sex.
Except...what was that move? He definitely hadn’t done that before.
It was sort of like... Oh, fuck. She didn’t know. It just felt really good.
He lifted his mouth from her, ever so briefly, and parted her folds with his thumbs before diving back down for more.
Her grip on the comforter tightened, and she emitted a tiny squeak.
“Greg...”
He redoubled his efforts, his tongue swiping over her entrance then circling faster over her clit, and when he slipped his finger inside her and curled it, she shrieked in pleasure. She clutched his head through the blankets, holding him against her as she came.
Oh, God.
He threw off the blankets and crawled up her body, a crooked grin on his face.
“If you haven’t done that in four years,” she said, “that’s a crime, because your tongue is magnificent.”
She could see her moisture on his lips—and all over his chin—and she was glad he’d turned on the bedside lamp.
“Do you want more of my magnificent tongue?” he asked.
“I do believe I would.”
She’d barely finished speaking before he dove back between her legs, with single-minded focus on making her feel good. At first, he was gentle, knowing she was sensitive right after she came, but then he was pumping his fingers in and out of her channel as he feasted on her. Her skin felt like it was sparking with energy, and it all coalesced into one big ball that exploded within her.
This time when he slid up her body, he pressed against her, his cock rubbing her slit. She wanted—needed—to feel it inside her; she felt achingly empty without him. She squirmed, but she couldn’t move much. He was heavy, and she loved being pinned underneath him.
Now he was feasting on her neck. It felt amazing but...
“Fuck me,” she said.
“Gladly.”
She was gratified to see his hands shaking as he rolled on the condom. He ran the head of his cock over her entrance a few times before he adjusted himself and began to push inside. She wrapped her legs around his waist and urged him on, bucking her hips up to meet him.
He put his hand on her hip and stilled her.
“Tasha.” He hissed out a breath. “Tasha, Tasha. I...”
Unable to say anything coherent, he dipped his head and kissed her as he slid the rest of the way inside. He stayed there for a moment, showering her with open-mouthed kisses, before rocking his hips against hers. It was tender at first, but achingly intense, and despite the mind-blowing oral sex, she’d been unprepared for how good this would feel. How right.
Like it was meant to be.
Taking advantage of the large bed, she tilted her hips to the left, and he rolled himself under her, his hips slamming up to meet hers. After pushing up her sweater, she cupped her breasts in her hands and circled her thumbs over her nipples.
“Yes.” His gaze was riveted on her chest. “You’re so...” He slammed his hips up again. “Sexy.”
That was exactly how she felt.
They moved in tandem before she lowered her chest to his and picked up the pace. He thrust into her and touched his tongue to his finger. When he pressed it against her clit, she came almost immediately. Underneath her, he growled, clutching her against his body as he finished.
* * *
Well. Well.
It had been a long time since Greg Wong had had sex, so it wasn’t surprising that it had been explosive, and he’d nearly lost his mind as soon as he slid inside the woman.
But that woman was Tasha Edwards, and he knew it wouldn’t have been quite like this with anyone else.
He returned to the bedroom after disposing of the condom and put his clothes back on. Normally, he wouldn’t have bothered, but sex didn’t change the fact that there was no heat, except for the little provided by his tiny space heater.
He wrapped Tasha in his arms, and she snuggled back against him.
This felt like a luxury. To simply have her in his arms again.
“I missed you,” he said suddenly. It was as though having sex with her had cracked something open inside him, something he’d forced closed long ago.
She hesitated. “I missed you, too.”
The words hung between them for a long time.
“Look at us,” she said after a while. “Snuggling together in a queen-size bed, without having to worry about any parents interrupting us. Without the sound of people funneling beer in the next room. We really are adults.”
He smiled against her neck. God, he really had missed her. She’d said the sex didn’t mean anything, but it didn’t feel that way to him.
She started singing “Jingle Bell Rock,” and he wasn’t even bothered by the Christmas music. He felt dopey and relaxed, and he was content to lie here with her.
“You once did a strip show for me to ‘Jingle Bell Rock,’” he said.
“I did.”
All the memories of their relationship were flooding back. He hadn’t allowed himself to think of them in years, but they were all there, waiting for him to want to remember.
“Do you have any regrets about us?” he asked when she finished the song. “Like, do you regret having sex when we did? Or staying together until second year? Or—”
“I don’t have regrets. It’s not a useful way to live life.”
He supposed that fit with her optimistic, always-look-to-the-future attitude, but he made a frustrated sound. “People say that, but I think it’s impossible not to have regrets.”
“I don’t have any regrets about you, I promise.”
She turned in his arms and faced him.
He did have regrets about the two of them. He regretted that they’d broken up when they did, that they hadn’t tried harder to make it work.
And yet, he’d felt like he had to let her go so she was free to experience all the world had to offer. So she could be with guys she hadn’t known since kindergarten, guys who wouldn’t prefer to stay in their rooms on a Saturday night and watch a documentary, but who would go out to socialize and maybe do stupid things like keg stands.
Tasha stroked her hand down his thighs.
“I’m not nineteen anymore,” he said hoarsely. “It’ll take more than five minutes before I’m ready for another round.”
She laughed quietly, her breath against his neck.
This was definitely not how he’d imagined the day going when he’d woken up this morning. No way had he thought he’d be snowbound in a motel with Tasha, snuggling after a fantastic round of sex. But even though this hadn’t been part of his plans, he was happy it had happened. Very happy.
Sure, sometimes she drove him up the wall, but it was easy to be with her, and he didn’t often feel at ease with people.
Tasha cuddled closer against him. “I’m definitely all warmed up now.”
“So am I.”
“You were hot to begin with.”
“Why thank you.”
After turning off the lamp, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.