Completing the Pass (13 page)

“Don't make fun,” she said, glaring at him and covering up the simple beige cups. “It's my most comfortable bra. I thought I'd be home all day.”

“I love it.” When she raised a brow in a
Don't bullshit me
expression, he shrugged. “I like that this wasn't planned. That you wear ratty bras. That you didn't just dress to seduce me.”

“You grew up to be a very strange man,” she whispered, then kissed him again. There was no protest when he reached behind her to undo the bra. The thing had about nineteen clasps, or else he'd have gotten it off faster. Definitely not lingerie meant for seduction. But when the thin material fell away from her body, he felt captured nonetheless.

Taking one dusky pink nipple into his mouth, he sucked, loving the feel of her body moving over him, under his hands. Loved how, with each lick, she wrapped herself more around his body until they were melting into each other. As he rocked back to lay flat on the bed, she came back over him.

“You're a smooth operator,” she said, rolling onto her side. Her fingers worked on the buttons of his polo, though why he had no clue. After letting her fumble for a moment, he sat up and ripped the whole thing over his head and flung it onto the floor.

“Well, that's one way to do it,” she said dryly. “Guess you're not worried about popping buttons.”

“I'm worried about popping something, but it has nothing to do with buttons.” The second he said it, he winced. Carri burst into laughter. With his face hot from embarrassment, he yanked and tugged at her pants until they came free. “This,” he said darkly, “is the problem with going to bed with someone you've seen have their diapers changed.”

“Oh . . . Oh my God,” she gasped, still laughing. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes to roll down her temples and into her hair. “That was so great. So unbelievably hilarious.”

He'd show her
great
. Grabbing her ankles, he pulled her to the edge of the bed with a quick tug. She slid over the comforter, still snorting with humor. When her butt was hanging delicately on the edge, she gave a whooping laugh.

Carri was still laughing when Josh shouldered her thighs apart, thumbed her folds and put his mouth on her. Then, her laughter turned to gasps as his tongue began to work. She arched and writhed as his mouth, his teeth, and his tongue worked over her slick center, pulsing against her clit, around it, and pushing away any reservations she had. Shoving out any lingering worry.

Her hands crept down and instinctively curled around the back of his head as he inserted one testing finger inside, thrusting gently. She was tight, but the pressure felt good. So, so good. Then he added another, working them in and swirling up to hit her G-spot.

“Oh, right th-there!” It came out on a squeal, but she couldn't even find a shred of embarrassment over that as she came without warning. He massaged that spot inside her while his tongue worked roughly over her clit, then changed to sucking softly as she slowly relaxed and came back to herself.

“Wow,” she breathed as he stood and opened his nightstand drawer. “Wow.”

“That's all?” He grinned as he tossed a condom onto the bed, then unbuckled his jeans. “I put in a stellar performance and I get a simple
wow
in return? Makes a guy wonder about his skills.”

“Maybe I'm too dazed to come up with anything else.” Her eyes wandered down his chest, following the sprinkling of hair that narrowed into his happy trail and led to a heavy cock, already thick and stiff with erection. “Or maybe I'm saving all my vocabulary for the main event.”

“A man can dream.” He closed the drawer to his nightstand with his knee. “C'mere.”

He reached under her back and lifted until her body was plastered against his front. She whooped out in shock, legs scrambling until she could wrap them around him to anchor herself. But she needn't have worried . . . There was no way he was going to drop her. He was solid, formidable even. His body didn't seem to be taxed at all as he held her while simultaneously ripping the covers off his bed. Then he crawled onto the bed on all fours, while she still hung with her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her legs around his lower back, like a baby monkey, before lowering her smoothly to the mattress until she felt safe enough to let go.

“That was . . . an interesting way to get a woman into bed.” She looked up as he settled over top of her, smiling. “You've got some moves, Leeman.”

“You have no clue how many moves I've got saved up, Gray,” he responded, hand moving down her body to find her slick center once more. “Where do you want me?”

“There,” she whispered, eyes closing tight as he massaged and stroked the tender flesh. “In. Everywhere. Please, Josh.”

“That's a sound I'll never get tired of hearing. Let's just get you a little closer,” he murmured before kissing her. His fingers never stopped playing until she clenched around him, close to the edge of orgasm. Then he slid from her—ignoring her protests—and grabbed the condom.

It did her heart some good to realize he was a bit shaky as he tried to unwrap the protection. That she wasn't the only one whose world was being turned upside down with this step they were taking together.

Then he was sheathed and pushing inside her, and all thoughts of who shook, who was worried, who wanted whom first . . . vanished. His thickness stretched her until she felt incredibly full. She angled her hips just a little by raising her knees, and he sank in just a little farther.

He hissed a breath. “Carri, God, you feel amazing.”

“Back at ya,” she managed to whisper before he kissed her again and moved. Their hips bumped, silently learning each other's preferences while their mouths fused together. One of his hands crept up, fingers trailing up her arm until they linked with hers above her head.

The sweet, innocent gesture in the midst of their lovemaking—
sex, Carri, it's just sex
—tipped her over the edge. No more slow, even pulsing. She thrust up against him, unable to help it. Their rhythm was disrupted until Josh pushed down hard against her, pressing her into the mattress, making it impossible for her to pulse back up.

“Easy,” he whispered below her ear. “You're about to send me into orbit, and we just got started.”

She was already
in
orbit. How was he so damn calm? But his heavy weight over the top of her, his scent, the way his lips moved against the skin of her neck . . . it all soothed her into compliance.

They lay there for who knew how many minutes, just breathing and soaking in each other's presence. Carri ran her free hand down his back, squeezing his ass, chuckling when he tightened it on reflex. “Cute tush, Leeman.”

That caused him to flex into her, and she groaned.

“You want me to move,” he guessed.

She stayed silent, but squeezed again.

“It's working,” he growled, teeth grazing her jugular before he pulled almost all the way out of her, until just the tip of his cock remained, then slammed back in. “You asked for it.”

“I did,” she agreed, then gasped when he pulled out and came back in hard, fast, without any of the gentleness he'd shown that last few times. “Yes, just like that. Just . . . like that. Please.”

And then she didn't have any breath left to beg with. His thrusts pushed into her so deeply she thought for a second he might hurt her. But it always stopped just short of pain, staying fully in pleasure and making her ache and want and . . .

“Josh,” she begged, working with him, grinding herself against him with every downward thrust. “Josh, Josh,
Joooosh
!” her voice rose with each word until she came again, rendering her speechless.

“There it is.” His voice was almost smug, and his smile was, too, before he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let his climax own him.

***

“Holy . . . shit.” Carri rolled over to stare at the ceiling, taking the covers with her out of habit. “That just happened.”

“What, sex?” Josh rolled with her, grabbing the sheet and pulling it down to her waist. Any hope she had of modesty—useless, she knew, but still—were dashed. “If you have doubts about what happened, I clearly need a second chance. Let me redeem myself.”

She pushed a palm against his shoulder as his grinning face came within an inch of hers. “Easy there, buster. That's not . . . entirely what I meant.”

He kissed her anyway, ignoring her protesting push, then propped himself up on one elbow and began drawing lazy circles over her stomach with one hand. Her ab muscles clenched and her flesh shivered with the contact.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I just mean that it's you, and me, and . . .” She gestured to the general direction of the sheet-covered areas of their bodies. “That. And how, if someone went back in time and asked seventeen-year-old me if I'd ever have sex with Josh Leeman, I'd have had some very colorful language to spew about that idea.”

“Because having sex with me was the worst thing you could ever think of,” he said dryly. “Being a teenage serial killer and all.”

“Because having sex with you would have been exactly what my mom wanted.” She bit her lip when he raised a brow at that. “Fine. Not exactly what she wanted. I doubt Maeve would have been spinning circles at her teenager having sex. But you and me, together. Us. You know. The moms.”

“Yeah. The moms.” He sighed and rolled onto his back. “Can we, maybe, not bring them into bed with us while the sheets are still warm? Is that a little too much to ask?”

“How can I not? It's this whole weird circle-of-life thing, and I'm not really a fan.”

“So, even if I wanted to date you—which I didn't ask you to, if you recall—you'd always say no, because your mom would like it.” He looked at her from the side. “You do realize how fucked up that sounds, right?”

“I'll see a therapist when I get back to Utah. But yeah, as fucked up as it sounds, it's almost Pavlovian to do the opposite of what my mom wants me to do. At heart, I'm still the seventeen-year-old rebel.”

“The rebel who came running home when her dad was in the hospital, and who still hasn't left town because her dad needs around-the-clock care and she refuses to see him put in a home.” Softly, he gathered her to him. “Yeah. What a rebel. So hard-hearted and cruel to the needs of others.”

“Stop,” she said, unconvincing even to herself.

Josh just nestled her closer to him. “How about, just for today, while we're in bed, we ignore everything outside of this room? Everybody else's wants, needs, thoughts. Work and play and friends and family . . . gone. In here it's you, and me, and our bodies and our needs and wants. How does that sound?”

“Sounds . . .” Heavenly. Another thing seventeen-year-old Carri would never have said with regard to Josh Leeman. “Sounds doable.”

“So pleased,” he said dryly, then kissed her. “Now, nap time.”

“Nap time?” Incredulous, she sat up and looked down at him, ignoring how the sheet once again fell to bare her breasts. “You've got a naked woman in your bed and nothing else to worry about—your rules, not mine—and you want to sleep?”

“The naked woman in question took a lot of energy out of me earlier. I need to be fully rested up for round two. Since I have nothing and nobody to worry about for a while, I want to give my first attempt a real run for its money.”

There's no way to beat round one, she wanted to say. But instead, she rolled her eyes and laid down beside him, cradled in his hold. God, it felt good to relinquish everything to someone else for a bit.

His lips brushed her forehead sweetly as he said, “Just for a few minutes.”

It was the last thing she heard before her system turned off for some much-needed rest.

***

“
How
did we fall asleep?” Carri asked, still pulling at her hair with one of Josh's combs from his apartment. She used his visor mirror to do the best she could with her appearance before he dropped her back off at home. “You've got to go faster.”

Josh sighed. She'd asked the same thing when they'd woken at nine
PM
with a start. Neither had expected to be out for so long. Josh had been willing to take time for round two; Carri had flown into a panic and began dressing immediately.

He sighed again at the lost opportunity.

“I can't . . . can't fix my makeup when you're driving like this,” she complained, doing something with an eye wide open that he didn't want to know about.

“First I was diving too slow. Now it's too fast. Make up your mind, Gray.”

She shot him a sideways glance that spoke wonders . . . and none of the silent words were flattering.

“Put the makeup away, then. Nobody's going to know.”

She shot him a look with uneven eyes—though damned if he knew what made them uneven—that said,
You're kidding, right?
“One word: Maeve.”

Okay, so Maeve would notice. Hell, with what her puffed lips and slightly panicked eyes projected, even Herb might snap out of it enough to realize what had happened. “Just put it away for a minute. I don't want to have to rush to the hospital to have that colored-pencil thing surgically removed from your cornea. I'll pull over before we get to your house and you can fix it in safety.”

She made a huffing sound, but dropped the pencil back into the tiny case that sat on her lap.

Thirty seconds later, he pulled into the back entrance of the neighborhood and once more into the driveway of the abandoned house. He put the car in park—no need to turn it off—and waited for Carri to flip the visor back down and get to work. Instead, she just stared at the house, as if she were somewhere else entirely. As if the house wasn't what she was seeing, at all.

“Carri. Carrington Gray, where the hell did you go?”

“Hmm?” She blinked uneven eyes at him, then blinked once more, and clarity returned. “Right, sorry. This house, though . . . I don't know. Something about it.” She lowered the visor and continued fixing her make up.

He fiddled with the radio, not wanting to watch her because that might make her go slower, or stop and glare at him again. But he tried to catch glimpses out of the corner of his eye. He'd seen women put on makeup before. He'd had girlfriends. It wasn't a total mystery to him. But Carri was so different in every way from any woman he'd ever been with before, he found himself desperate to watch. To see how she did it. Not to compare, but because he just wanted to know one more tiny piece of her that he didn't already know. Wanted to own that memory of her, too.

So to avoid getting caught, he looked at the house. And wondered what had entranced her about the damn thing. It looked like a god-awful mess. Weeds up to his kneecaps, peeling paint on every surface of the outside, what looked like a broken window upstairs—boarded up—and a driveway so cracked he debated if it was the site of an earthquake at some point.

And yet, for a moment, he'd seen something as Carri had stared hard at the house. Something close to the way she'd looked at him, as he'd hovered over her in his bedroom not so long ago.

Desire.

He shifted in the driver's seat, trying to subtly arrange himself so his emerging boner wouldn't be so obvious.

“Okay,” Carri said after another moment. “I think . . .” She ran her hands through her hair once more, fluffed, then nodded. “Close enough. Let's roll.”

He started to take the car out of park, then went on impulse and reached over to kiss her. She stiffened, then leaned into it, giving herself to his exploring tongue, cupping his face with one hand.

When he pulled back, he smiled. “You look good, Carrington.”

Her eyes were a little dazed when she rasped, “What was that for?”

“Because I won't be kissing you on your doorstep. And I want to.”

That seemed to confuse her. As far as he was concerned, he could keep on confusing her until she gave in to the idea of them being together. Period.