Fool for Love (3 page)

Against all odds, Joe dozed off and woke
much later to the sound of wrenching sobs. He was up and off the sofa before he
was fully awake. In the bedroom, he found her curled into the fetal position,
crying her heart out.

If he'd taken the time to shake off the
sleep stupor, he might've contemplated the implications of crawling into bed
with her wearing only thin boxers. He might've stopped himself from easing her
into his embrace and cushioning her head on his chest. He probably would've
seen the error of his ways before she curled around him and held on for dear
life. In his right mind, he would've examined the consequences in time to stop
himself from acting so impulsively. But by the time he finally got a clue, it
was far,
far
too late.

Janey McCarthy was in his bed and in his
arms, and Joe Cantrell was ruined. Completely and utterly ruined.

Janey couldn't remember a time when she needed anything more than the sweet
comfort of Joe's love wrapped tight around her. Somewhere deep down inside, in
a place she rarely ventured, she had suspected he cared for her as more than
his best friend's bratty little sister.

When she'd been blissfully happy as
David's girlfriend and then fiancée, it hadn't occurred to her to delve too
deeply into the heated looks she sometimes received from Joe or the odd vibe
she'd experienced whenever they were together over the last few years.

In fact, more than once she'd been almost
frightened by the intensity of what she felt coming from him, so she'd done
what any loyal, faithful fiancée would do and acted like it didn't exist. Just
yesterday, when she'd thought her life was set and her future secure, she
wouldn't have dreamed of entertaining thoughts about her brother's sexy best
friend.

But as he held her close to him, she was
suddenly and acutely aware of not Joe, her friend, but Joe, the man. Had she
ever noticed he was ripped with muscles? Or that he smelled so amazing? Right
now, he wasn't her brother's friend or her longtime friend. No, right now he
was here, he was warm, and she had no doubt, no doubt whatsoever, that he loved
her.

"Joe."

"I'm here, honey." He tightened
his hold on her, while under her ear, his heart pounded out a rapid beat.
"I'm right here."

She drank in his clean fresh scent as well
as the lingering spice of his beloved clove cigarettes and salty sea air. In
her current state, it wasn't fair, she knew, to take advantage of him and all
he felt for her. It wasn't fair to manipulate his care and concern, to turn it
into something bigger than either of them could handle just then. She knew all
that, but knowing didn't stop her hand from setting out to learn the curves and
planes of his muscular chest.

He sucked in a sharp deep breath.
"Janey." His hand on top of hers ended the exploration.

"I can't bear it," she whispered
as new tears filled her eyes. "I can't."

"I know." He caressed her hair
and massaged her shoulders. "It'll take time, but you'll get past it. I
promise."

"I need to feel something else."
Since he had a firm grip on her roving hand, she turned her face into his chest
and nuzzled the soft blond hair.

As if an electrical current had hit him,
he stiffened. "What're you doing?"

"Make me feel something other than
devastated, Joe."

He tried to get up, but she stopped him.

His hazel eyes found hers in the moonlight
that seeped in through the open blinds. "You have no idea what you're
asking of me. No idea."

"I'm asking someone who loves me and
who I love to hold me and love me and make this awful, unbearable pain go
away."

He shook his head. "I can't, Janey. I
just can't."

"Joe." Her lips found his, her
hand sank into his thick sandy hair, her fingers caressed his scalp, and he
trembled. "I need you. Don't say no. Please don't say no."

His hands framed her face as he drew back
from her. "You can't ask me for this, Janey. I'll get you anything else
you need, but not this."

"No one else could give me
this." She caressed his chest and belly, his rippling muscles responding
to her touch even as he continued to resist. Emboldened, she rose up to shift
on top of him. The press of his erection against her belly told her his body
was with her even if the rest of him wasn't.

His hands traveled over her back and
stopped at the waistband to her shorts. He studied her as if he was making some
sort of decision.

"We can't, honey," he said softly.
"It's not going to make anything better. It'll only make everything
worse."

"No. It won't."

"You're using me to get back at him.
Evening the score won't make you feel any less devastated."

She shook her head and slid her lips back
and forth over his. "I'm not thinking about him right now. I'm thinking
about you, and I already feel better." Straddling him, she sat up and
reached for the hem of her shirt.

He stopped her. "You'll hate yourself
in the morning. And worse yet, you'll hate me."

"I could never, ever hate you."

"You don't think so now…"

"I know so."

She tugged her fingers free of his grip
and pulled the top over her head.

Joe's eyes flared with heat and desire at
the sight of her lacy bra. His fingers dug into her hips.

"Take it off me." She rolled her
hips, pressing her heat against his steely length.

"
Janey
…" He groaned and
fumbled with the hooks.

Watching him react to her, Janey had a
moment of hesitation. After all, she'd never done this with anyone but David.
But he was gone now, dead to her in every way that mattered. Since she had no
choice but to go on without him, she may as well get started on the rest of her
life.

With her eyes fixed on Joe's handsome,
familiar face, she slid down and took his boxers with her.

With every fiber of his being, Joe knew this was
wrong. Well, one part of his being wasn't listening to the rest, but he'd never
been one to think with that part of his anatomy.

Until now.

Janey McCarthy was naked in his arms, and
nothing in his wildest fantasies—and his Janey fantasies were quite
something—had come even remotely close to the reality. Her hands and lips
devoured him, rendering him helpless to deny her, even though he had no doubt
he'd regret this. She claimed she wouldn't have regrets. He didn't believe
that, either.

Despite the whir of thoughts and doubts
and emotions, her lips on his belly required his undivided attention. Soft
strands of silky hair tickled and tempted. Then she dragged her fingernails
over his inner thigh, and his cock jerked. Before he'd recovered from that
heart-stopping move, she took him into the heat of her mouth, and Joe felt like
a virgin who was experiencing this particular act for the first time.

He buried his fingers in her hair and
tried to hold back, tried to summon some semblance of self-control. As if they
had a mind of their own, his hips surged, and she took him deeper. And then he
was coming harder than he ever had before. In the aftermath, he couldn't seem
to catch his breath or find his equilibrium. With his fingers still buried in
her hair, he guided her up to his chest.

Once there, her lips kept up the teasing
and tormenting. When the tip of her tongue connected with his nipple, Joe
grasped her hips and turned them so he was on top. He told his conscience to
shut up and let him enjoy what was a dream come true, even if it wasn't
happening the way he would've preferred. It
was
happening, and he could
either let guilt ruin it or he could make sure she'd never forget the night she
spent in his arms.

While Option A was without a doubt the
wiser of the two choices, Joe chose Option B. As he cupped her sweet breast and
sucked her nipple into his mouth, he set out to make sure that she'd remember
him—she'd remember
this
—for the rest of her life. Years of loving her
from a distance, of thinking about what he'd do if he had just one night with
her, had left him well prepared to satisfy her every desire.

He left hot wet kisses on her belly and
nibbled on both hipbones, which drew soft gasps from her. Settling between her
slender thighs, Joe blew on the small thatch of blonde hair that covered her.
Her hips lifted and her thighs fell open. His finger traced a line over the
damp seam until he was inside. He dipped his head and added his tongue at the
same instant he slid a finger into her moist heat.

"Joe!" She pushed at him and
tried to pull back.

"Shhh, honey."

"I've never…" Her voice hitched
on what sounded like a sob. "Not like that…"

"You've never been loved like this,
sweetheart?"

Eyes wide, she shook her head. "He didn't
like it."

Joe closed his eyes and took a moment to
absorb yet another burst of anger directed at David Lawrence. That selfish,
arrogant
bastard!
However, good old David had once again made things
easier for Joe. He had no doubt she'd remember
this
. Mindful of her
hesitance, he started all over again with kisses to her calf, the inside of her
knee and the silky softness of her inner thigh. By then, she was trembling
uncontrollably.

"Relax, honey," he whispered.
With his free hand on her belly, he urged her to stay still. "Just try to
relax. I promise you'll like it."

He added a second finger to the one
sliding in and out of her.

Janey moaned and lifted her hips to meet
the thrusts of his fingers and tongue.

Her quivering thighs told him she was
close, so he rolled the heart of her desire between his lips and sucked.

She came instantly, her muscles clenching
tight around his fingers.

Joe couldn't wait another second to be
inside her. "Are you protected, sweetheart?"

Still gasping, she nodded. "I'm on the
pill."

He raised her leg over his hip and entered
her slowly, giving her time to accommodate him.

Her expression held such awe and wonder
that if he didn't already love her with his whole heart, he would've fallen for
her right then and there.

He flexed his hips, seating himself to the
hilt.

Janey cried out and gripped his backside,
holding him there as she came again.

Joe gritted his teeth, holding off as he
rode the storm of her orgasm.
God, she was so hot and so responsive
.
"More."

Her eyes flew open and met his. "I
can't."

Bending his head, he captured her nipple
between his teeth and pumped into her, determined to prove her wrong. He kissed
his way to her mouth, his tongue mimicking the in and out action of his hips.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and
met the thrusts of his tongue with soft caressing strokes of her own that made
his head spin.

Joe had never experienced anything even
close to this. He'd thought earlier that loving Janey hadn't ruined his life,
but after this… God, after this, he'd never be the same. He gave her everything
he had, and by the time he brought them both to an explosive, life-changing
finish, he was sweating and breathing hard and more in love with her than he'd
ever imagined possible.

"Janey. Janey." He couldn't stop
kissing her, tasting her, loving her.
At last
, he thought,
at long
last
. "Janey."

She combed her fingers through his hair,
over and over, as if she couldn't bear to stop touching him, either. A guy
could dream.

Trailing kisses from her neck to her jaw
to her soft cheek, he encountered dampness that stopped him short. "Are
you sad, Janey?"

"No," she whispered. "That
was… It was amazing. I didn't know it could be like that."

His heart swelled with hope—fragile, but
hope nonetheless. "It's never been like that for me, either."

She looked up at him, her face open and
trusting. "Really?"

"Really," he said against her
kiss-swollen lips. "In fact," he said, his hips already moving,
"I think we need to do it again, just to make sure that wasn't a one-time
moment of magic."

Janey laughed and ran her hands down his
back in encouragement.

Thrilled to have made her laugh after
hours of despair, Joe captured her mouth in a searing kiss and made love to her
all over again.

Joe woke up facedown alone in bed with the sun streaming in the window. He
shifted onto his back, and every muscle in his body protested the movement. If
he'd wanted proof he wasn't as young as he used to be, his body was definitely
letting him know he could no longer get away with a nonstop sex fest—not that
he'd ever done anything quite like what he'd done with Janey during the night.

The scent of bacon and coffee wafted into
the room while Joe stared up at the ceiling, reliving the most exquisite night
of his life. He checked his watch. Six thirty. Still looking up at the
cathedral ceiling and mesmerized by the movement of the fan, he made a decision
and reached for the bedside phone.