Hidden Gems (9 page)

No pajamas, Jamie thought as he chirruped for the cat. And he had only the sofa bed for them to share. It was going to be a long time till morning.

SOME DISTANCE WAS PUT between them by the business of rearranging his place, getting another pillow, a fresh towel, a bar of soap. Sitting and soothing Harry while Marissa took a quick shower worked on Jamie, as well. He managed to subdue and corral his rampaging lust.

Until she walked out of the bathroom, blotting her damp hair with a towel, wearing a tiny pink silk top and even tinier bottoms. Their frilled edge lay along the crease of her leg, lifting along the curve of her bottom when she bent and tousled her hair. Straightening, she flung it past her shoulders like a girl in a shampoo commercial. Silk shimmered over her conspicuously pointy nipples.

“Thanks for the shower. I feel so much better!”

He grunted. Harry jumped from his lap and went to twine himself around Marissa’s legs. Lucky cat.

“Where’s your sleep shirt? The big, baggy one?”

She blinked. “Dirty clothes pile.”

“Want a T-shirt? Sweats?” A parka. “You’re going to be cold.”

She glanced at the sofa bed, the extra blankets he’d gathered. “I’m sure you’ll keep me warm.”

“You know what you’re doing to me, right?”

Her lips pursed into a tight smile. “Of course.”

He sighed heavily. “But I’m not supposed to start anything.”

Or was he?

She returned her towel to the bathroom, switching off the light before coming back. The apartment turned a dense black. He waited for his eyes to adjust, picking out Marissa’s slender form standing beside the bed.

“Thus far,” she said, “you’ve exhibited formidable control.”

“Ah, so this is payback.”

“Would I be that devious?”

“Hell, yes.”

She laughed, agreeing. “Sorry. I’m fresh out of flannel pajamas.”

“No problem.” He got up and flicked on a bedside lamp. “Hope you don’t mind if I strip down. I put out extra blankets for you, but they’ll make me hot if I wear too much to bed.” He stripped off the top of the pajamas he’d put on for purposes of modesty and protection, leaving only the bottoms, the drawstring tied loosely so they hung low on his hips. He stretched, flexing his chest muscles, then worked his shoulders back and forth.

Marissa pretended to fluff pillows, but she was watching.

He rubbed below his navel. “Right or left?”

“Huh?”

He rested his hands on his hips. “Do you sleep on the right side or the left?”

“Oh, right, I suppose.” She dragged her eyes up from the tent puffing out below his waistband. “Actually, I sleep all over. I’m restless. This bed is small. I might end up sprawled on top of you.”

“I’ve slept under worse conditions.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she got into bed without further comment. She stretched out flat, balancing near the right edge. The blankets were spread neatly over her, pulled up to her chest. She kept her hands outside them, folded atop her rib cage.

She closed her eyes. Smiled serenely. “Thank you for coming to my rescue. Good night.”

That was it? Arrgh.

Moving like an old man, he lowered himself to the bed. With careful positioning, he was able to avoid touching her. The sofa bed’s springs squeaked and groaned, the edge of the thin mattress curling inward as if it wanted to throw them together. He tensed up and clung to his perch.

Platitudes filled his brain.

Steady on.

Take it easy.

Don’t rush.

But his usual mantra wasn’t working.

He remembered how he’d saved for his first guitar when he was fourteen, a limited-edition Gibson acoustic that he’d spotted in a music shop. Too young for a regular job, he’d earned the money by lawn mowing, snow shoveling, dog walking. A year it had taken him. Flashy electric guitars had come and gone through the store, but the Gibson had waited for him, its honey-colored wood sweetly curved and polished.

And when he’d finally had the money—or most of it; he’d gone to the shop with the intention of setting up a payment plan for the remainder—the guitar was no longer there. It had been sold only days before.

Eventually he’d bought a similar guitar. A newer, better one, the shop owner had said.

But it wasn’t the same. He’d coveted that Gibson. And remembered, even now, the pleasure of the one time he’d played her, hair falling in his face, fumbling fingers in the corner of the shop, strumming a simple song.

So he knew from experience that once wasn’t enough.

Yet it was better than nothing.

Better than waiting too long and losing his chance because he’d dreamed too big.

“JAMIE, are you sleeping?”

His voice came out of the dark. “No.”

Marissa smiled to herself. He’d answered so fast that she knew he’d been waiting for her to give him a sign. But on top of everything else she’d been thinking about his off-base suspicions of Shandi and he deserved to suffer, just a little. Shandi was selfish and a mooch, but she wasn’t a thief.

“Me, neither. I’m stifling under all these blankets.” Marissa flung off two layers. “Much better.”

“Just right, is it, Goldilocks?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” She brushed her leg against his, to be certain he was thinking about her being half-naked only inches away. “Sorry.”

Bad idea. The electric touch sent a shivery tingle through her. The heat of him clung to her like a force field, entreating her to roll over and curl up into his warmth. She wanted to dive into him like a pool, swallow him like hot fudge.

“That’s okay, just don’t do it again,” he reprimanded.

She slid her foot over. Touched their toes.

“That was on purpose.”

“I’m weak,” she whispered.

He scoffed.

“I am! When it comes to—” She stopped and thought. Men were her downfall, but not really. While she’d made mistakes, she hadn’t actually suffered for them. With Jamie though…

Everything would be different.

High stakes, big risk.

Oh, please! Cut the drama. Get over yourself and just jump him already. The world didn’t come crashing to a halt because you lusted after your best friend, and it won’t when you shag him, either.

Besides, added the impulsive Marissa, he looks too good in his bare chest and bare feet and candy-striped pj’s to pass up.

The little show he’d put on before getting into bed had worked. She was revved up with nowhere to go.

When she’d seen how thick and full his penis had grown inside the loose cotton pajama bottoms, her tongue had curled against her teeth, trying to get out. She’d wanted to catch him by the drawstring, drag him near, drop the pants with one quick tug, take him in her hands, in her mouth, taste him on her tongue—

I want to have sex with my friend, Jamie, she said to herself, testing the idea. Jamie, my lover.

That sounded fine. Extremely fine.

Ever since her return from the islands, she’d seen him with new eyes. Unlike the men she’d been dating, Jamie was strong in body and mind.

Especially in character. She’d underestimated how much she valued an honest, upstanding man.

She’d intended to tease him, but lust was taking hold. Taking over. The depth and strength was revealing when, for three years, she’d rarely lingered on his potential as a lover. Now that was all she could think of.

He felt the same way, so at least she wouldn’t have to suffer the indignity of craving and longing and nerves. Not for long.

“We have to talk,” he said.

The pit of her stomach dropped like a stone. “That sounds ominous.”

“No, it’s only picking up where we stopped.”

She reached for his hand and placed it over her breast. “You stopped here.”

For one brief moment his fingers closed over her nipple and she felt the tug travel straight through her. Then he yanked his hand away.

“We have to decide where we want this to go,” he said in a robotic monotone. Even so, the desire in his voice was rough and deep. Embedded.

She moved restlessly, finally letting herself roll into the center of the bed, her nerve endings jumping and sparking as she brushed against his solid body. He was hot all over. His upper arm pressed against one of her taut nipples and she almost leaped out of her skin. She’d always been sensitive there; now she was on a hair trigger.

“You’re too careful,” she said. Even without the extra blankets, the heat between them was thick and seething.

“You’re too impulsive.”

“I haven’t been with you.”

“And why is that, do you think?”

“Because I didn’t know it would be this way.”

“What way?”

She closed her eyes, breathing through her nose. He was going to make her say it. “I didn’t know I would want you this much.”

“You want me.” He said it with wonder, making her twinge inside. The man had no idea of his immense appeal.

She stretched like a cat, then braced her heels to push higher against the pillows, freeing her upper torso from the tangled sheet. She tipped her head near his, letting her breath blow across his bare shoulder to his cheek. “Just as much as you want me.”

His eyes shone at her in the dark. She heard him swallow. He was a goner, but stubborn. “What happened to the worry about keeping our friendship?”

“I realized something, hauling ass up the fire escape.” She clasped his hand. “You mean more to me than friendship. It was dumb to think that we should stop there.”

“But you said—”

“And you said being lovers will enhance our friendship.”

“Now we’re arguing each other’s sides.”

She sat up and pulled off her camisole in one fluid motion, then, when he didn’t move except for the hitch of his chest, she leaned over, practically on top of him, her arms braced on either side of his shoulders. Her breasts swayed inches above his face.

She nipped at his mouth, moving away when he tried to reach for a real kiss. “That must mean we’re of one mind.”

He made a grunting sound. “If you’re sure, I have no more arguments.”

His fingertips ran up the inside of her arms, trailing fire like a comet. She inhaled sharply. “Are you sure?” he asked.

She had to be honest, at least with herself. For the moment, I am sure.

Tomorrow was another question. Her head swirled at the thought of next week, next month. A year from now. She couldn’t imagine not having him in her life, so she didn’t try.

His palms passed over her breasts, barely grazing them. She lifted a leg to slip astride him. Her spine pushed in, pressing her lower belly against the hot satin of his flat stomach. A heady sense of fullness and congestion pooled where their bodies met. She rubbed against him, her eyes rolling back in her head as she let herself revel in the moment of first seduction, more than ready to experience all of it—Jamie’s fingers, Jamie’s tongue, Jamie’s cock….

She lifted up a little, soothing the burn. Her thighs were spread wide. Against the thin silk of the tap pants, the lips of her sex had become ripe and swollen, flowing with the honeyed warmth of her arousal.

She was open. Ready to let him in. To trust the leaping faith that they were doing what was right.

“Jamie,” she said. “Make love to me.”

He took her face between his hands. “Now that’s what I call asking the right way.”

Her reward was a kiss that started with a swoop of swirling tongue and quickly deepened to a hot openmouthed passion. There was no longer any question of Should I? or Shouldn’t I? No parry and thrust. No retreat. They grasped greedily at each other, plunging recklessly into the sexual abandon that they’d put off for too long.

She let out a squeak of surprise when his palms plunged past the skimpy pants to cup her bare bottom. Her thighs tensed, lifting her higher as she tilted to thrust her firm, curved ass hard against his hands.

He was knotted up so tight it was an effort to speak. “Can we have the light? I want to see you.” He intended to memorize her.

She nodded, dropping to all fours so she could reach the lamp. The light made her skin golden. With her face hidden in the sweep of long black hair, she rocked back onto her heels, her smooth curves sliding beneath his fingers. He lightly brushed them down the crack of her bottom, meaning the caress to be discreet until she opened her legs wider and he touched her hot slick center.

They both jerked, as if he’d plugged his finger into a light socket.

Marissa tossed back her head. Her teeth had bitten into her lower lip. “Touch me again,” she said in a hoarse voice.

“Don’t be so impatient.” He clenched his hands against her thighs to hide the shaking.

She watched him with her head hung low, eyes black with a glittering arousal. Her perfect breasts were suspended above his face, the tight little nipples pointed at his mouth, veritably tempting him to take a taste.

“Hold still.” He stroked upward from her hips, along the thin, sensitive skin over her ribs to the sweetly rounded weight of her breasts. As much as he longed to, he didn’t linger there, only skimmed the points of her nipples, circled her shoulders, then continued along the path back the other way. Sensations coursed from his palms and up his arm, begging to be savored, but he didn’t stop. One hand coasted along the outside of her thigh until it caught at the back of her knee. The flat of his other hand reached past her navel and smooth belly to the neat patch of fur revealed as her pants slipped off her hips. Her pelvis tilted, welcoming him.

The air in his lungs grew sharp as his fingers found her cleft. He gripped her thigh steady to give him even better access, but there was no real need. Her knees were spread as far as they could go and yet still keep her upright. She was making small, excited noises. Rocking her hips.

“Shh, slow down,” he said, trying to settle her.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” But she took a deep breath that dropped her shoulders low enough for her to rub her cheek against his. She made a murmuring sound of encouragement.

Slow down? Who was he kidding? Tension had strung his nerves taut as a bow. His blood was charged, pulsing inside him with demands that he had to fight to delay. He was determined to take his time. He wanted to give her all the pleasure that he could.

The finger he eased between the pouting lips of her sex was instantly coated by the slippery warmth of her viscous flow. She was aroused. Highly aroused.

His masculine pride surged, like the first time he’d brought a woman to orgasm. There was no doubt in him that seeing—feeling—Marissa come apart under his command would outweigh the sum of all previous experiences. He was as eager as an eighteen-year-old, wild to have her long legs wrapped around him, to spill himself in her tight, clinging body. Her memories of other boyfriends would burn to ashes when she came like she’d never come before.

She’d closed her eyes. He looked at her face, silent and focused. Wanting to give her more than sexual pleasure, he gently urged her over onto her back, enabling him to press closer, gathering her in a one-armed hug while still working a playful finger in and out of her.

The silence in the studio apartment was broken only by the occasional softly feminine moan and the distant racket from the street of delivery trucks and early dawn copter traffic. Anticipation hung in the air, so heavy he could taste it.

Marissa wriggled in his embrace, kicking away her remaining piece of lingerie. “Stop being a tease,” she said. “Touch me there.” As if she were shy, she pressed her face to his neck. Seconds later she was kissing and nibbling at his throat.

Obediently he stroked through the intimate folds to rub against the hard button of her clit. Even though she’d asked for it, she stiffened with another of the undrawn gasps, scraping his carotid with her teeth. He eased up, caressing her inner thighs instead, giving her inflamed senses a minute to recover.

She let out a big sigh. Her arms went around his neck. “I can’t take this.”

“You can.” He kissed the top of her head. “And so will I. We’ll take it all the way.”

And you’ll take me, he thought, his mind dark with the erotic image of burying himself in the tiny opening he’d barely fit two fingers into. Primal urges were shattering his plan to love her slowly and completely, as if they had all the time in the world. Perhaps all along he’d been worried about the opposite—that they would have only one night and he would have to make it last forever.

Marissa’s lips moved against his throat. “I don’t want to come this way,” she insisted even though she was trembling under his touch. A couple of hard strokes would bring her off. “I want you—” she nipped at his ear “—inside me.”

“I don’t intend to give you only one orgasm.”

She made a sound of amusement. “You should have told me about your great skill in this department. If I’d known, we’d have become lovers years ago.”

“What a fool I’ve been.” He smiled down at her. “From now on, I’ll try to be more boastful.”

They kissed. Marissa’s mouth was soft, loose. So was the rest of her, now that he’d switched to slow caresses that wandered over her entire body. She moved languorously beneath his mouth, her hair fanned across the pillow. He could drink from her like this for hours and be satisfied.

Almost satisfied.

She covered his wandering hand with her own, lazily directing him to her breasts. “They ache.”

“I can fix that.” He put his mouth to her breasts, where her skin was so pale it glowed in the dusky room, and dabbled them with small, wet kisses. She tasted the way she smelled—of warm, ripe woman, a little spicy, a little sweet. Taut brown nipples rolled beneath his tongue, popping up against his lips. No longer able to resist, he drew on first one, then the other, sucking them deep into his mouth, back and forth, licking and nibbling until she dug her fingers compulsively into his shoulders, thrashing her legs against the sheets.

He pulled away. “Better?”

Her black pupils were rimmed by the thinnest ring of color. “Worse.” She gulped. “Much worse. In fact, so much worse that I demand you keep practicing.”

He surveyed her beautifully aroused body, slender as a blade of golden grass. “Practice, huh? Well, I was never very disciplined about my music lessons, but I loved to sit for hours on the seawall and strum my guitar.” Luckily she couldn’t read his mind, because all he could think of was how he’d like to make her tight pussy sing a vibrato.

“And how would you play me?” She put a hand over her dark tuft, the knowing tone telling him that lately she’d become quite aware of how his mind worked.

“With—” With love.

He stopped himself just in time, withholding because he remembered how she’d disdained men who mistook the first exciting rush of sex for love, to the point where they dithered over her like syrup-sopped romantics.

She claimed to prefer meeting her sexual needs in a straightforward manner. But he’d also seen how her gaze lingered on loving couples on the street, almost guiltily, especially with the greeting-card moments like seventy-year-olds holding hands and a husband kissing his wife’s pregnant tummy bulge.

Because he knew Marissa so well, he also knew her secret: she believed in true love.

So did he, a conviction that had grown stronger in the past few years. The words wanted to burst out of him, but he settled for enfolding her in another embrace. For now, he would have to show her how he felt. That, at last, she would accept.

“I will play you like a symphony,” he said, and proceeded to show her that even though his garage-band days were long gone, he hadn’t lost his touch.

“THIS IS WEIRD,” Marissa said from the huddle of pillows where she’d burrowed in an attempt to escape his maddeningly meticulous hands. She needed a moment to regain her breath before she lost control of her body altogether.

Jamie looked up, crestfallen.

“Not you!” Certainly not him. He’d done everything right, if too carefully—kissing and stroking every nook and cranny as if he’d flunk his finals in sex ed if he neglected a millimeter of skin.

“Are you thinking of the break-in?”

That was at the back of her mind, but…“No.”

“Is it because we’re too familiar?” he said. “Pretend I’m a stranger.”

She kissed him. “You’ll never be a stranger.”

“Then pretend we’ve done this a hundred times before.”

“I like that it’s our first time,” she confessed, feeling girlish. A blush warmed her face. “But then there’s our audience.” She peeked past the edge of a rumpled blanket. Sally stood at the foot of the bed, watching them with a big doggie grin, her tongue lolling. “I prefer if the heavy breathing comes from you.”

“Sally. Shoo.” He kicked at the air. “Go on. Shoo.”

The dog laid her head on the bed. Big brown eyes stared at them.

Under the covers, Jamie’s thumb rubbed across Marissa’s nipple. “She won’t tell anyone what she sees.”

“She’ll tell Harry.” Marissa lay flat, pulling the sheet past her face. “They’ll have a big discussion about our technique.”

Jamie crawled out of bed. “I’ll shut her in the bathroom, okay?”

“With a Chewy Bone!” she called after him.

He was back in thirty seconds, tossing a strip of condom packets on the bedside table before sliding in behind her. “Now where were we?”

“Um.” She squirmed her bottom. He pressed against her, his erection stabbing her in the small of the back. “I believe you have a bone for me, too,” she said, and giggled. “Oh, man, that was so cheesy. I must be nervous. Whatever that feels like.”

He made an adjustment, touching her lower where her thighs pressed together, and she no longer wanted to laugh. Her stomach was jumping, however, and she knew very well that it was nerves. They were about to go to a place in their relationship where there’d be no turning back.

“You’re sure this isn’t weirding you out?” he whispered.

“Surprisingly, no. But let’s not dwell on that or it will get awkward.”

His hands were in her hair, lifting it. “No more talking,” he said against her nape. “Just kissing.”

She shivered, fighting to lie still under his wandering hands as he lavished her with adoration. It seemed that he’d been caressing her for an hour. She was so ready that even her follicles were vibrating, but she’d wanted him to have his own pace.

Typically, he’d given little thought to himself. By now, he had to be hurting something fierce.

He flinched when she rubbed against his stiff penis. “Babe. Don’t do that yet.”

She turned to face him. “Let me touch you.”

“I’m afraid I’ll—urgh.” He gritted his teeth.

She’d reached past the waistband of his pajama pants. At her first tentative touch, he tossed his head like a wild horse.

Marissa hummed with enjoyment. His groin was hot, fragrant with musk. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, rubbed her thumb around the rim, the slickened tip. He jerked so violently she lost her grasp.

Mercy! Such unbridled passion. Her inner muscles squeezed down on a bolt of anticipation. Jamie would fill her so well. She slithered closer, shoving his pajamas past his lean hips.

He caught her elbow. “I’m telling you, that’s dangerous.”

“Not if you’re inside me.”

“But I—”

“Shh. I know what you were doing.” She gave him a deep kiss. “And you did it so well—” biting his jaw, strumming her tongue over the strained cords in his neck “—that if I don’t have you, right now, I’m going to explode.” She nuzzled the hollow where his pulse throbbed. His unleashed hard-on twitched against her belly.

“Oh-hh…okay.” He looked embarrassed. “I wanted to do this right.”

“Dork.” She got right up next to him, no inch of skin unmatched. “Don’t you know that you’re so right? Without doing a thing.” Sliding her leg over his, she felt the textures of his rough hair and taut muscle with her inner thigh. “But we need to find our rhythm together.”

“Ride this.” He thrust his thigh forward, seating it against her vulva. She squirmed, opening herself. The contact on her clit was a shock, riveting her with a concentrated blast of pure, fiery sensation. His groin was a forge, his erection as hard and hot as a bar of steel sizzling against her most intimate flesh. Waves of heat rolled through her. He reached for one of the packets and she thought that they would melt the condom for sure.

Somehow he managed to roll the rubber on, even with her trying to crawl up inside him. She was almost weeping with the pressure and tension and need.

“Hold on to me, babe.”

She gripped his shoulders. He nudged her over onto her back without losing the contact. He stroked several fingers through her wetness, plunging them inside before spreading her to accept the sheathed head of his penis. She dug her heels in, lifted her pelvis.