Poker Face (15 page)

“I’m serious. My Meg could do a hundred times worse than you.
Maybe this is fate, and you and her were always destined to be together. I
still believe in happy endings. I’ve been lucky enough to find true love,
twice. I’d never steal that kind happiness away from anyone, especially my own
daughter, it’s all I’ve ever wanted for her. Forget about your father, Drew.
The past is what it is…the past.” She pointed the prongs of her fork at him to
punctuate what she was about to say, “The look you get every time I mention
Megan gives away exactly how you feel about her, even if you refuse to admit
it.”

Great. Now she was talking about fate and destiny and dreamy eyed
looks of love.

It was all bullshit. All of it.

His stomach dropped.

Or was it?

*****

Drew paced at the foot of the bed, a white towel secured around
his waist, his hair still damp from the shower. Inside he was a tangled mess of
nerves. He considered swiping a blanket from the bed, and taking up residence
back on the couch before Megan finished helping Birdie clean the kitchen, but
his pride would not allow it.

He could do this.

He’d slept in the bed next to her before, and somehow, he’d made
it thru the night without being stupid.

It was Lillian. She’d managed to get inside his head, planting all
these thoughts and now all he could think about was all that fate and destiny
bullshit. His relationship with Filly was a train disaster waiting to happen.
Hell, what was he thinking? They had no relationship. All they had were weeks
of endless bickering, and a sudden truce.

He drug both hands through his hair, releasing all the air in his
lungs. It was settled. He wasn’t about to wimp out like a pussy. Oh man, why
had he allowed that word to sneak its way inside his head. “Because that’s all
you’ve been thinking about lately.”

He threw back the covers on his side of the bed, peeling the
layers down to the cotton sheets. Great. He had a side. The right side. Near
the wall. Well, to hell with that, he’d go ahead and stake his claim on the
left side, closest to the door for escape. “Chill dude, you’re acting like a
fifteen year old virgin who’s just been forced to sleep with a hot second
cousin.”

“Talking to yourself again?” Drew whirled around to see Megan
smiling in the doorway. She walked over to the highboy dresser and pulled some
clean clothes out of the drawers. He checked the towel to make sure there was
no chance of it coming undone, revealing his semi-hard state just from her
walking into the bedroom while he was partially nude. She turned, took a step towards
him appearing to be unaffected by what he was wearing, or wasn’t wearing. “I
swear, I smell like straight up Clorox. Birdie is insane. Do you know she uses
a toothbrush to clean all the little grooves in the tile floor. I’ve spent the
last hour on my hands and knees. Seriously. Here smell…” she held out a hand,
palm up, wiggled her fingers inches from his nose.

Drew’s calves bumped the mattress as he took a step back, the
image of her on her hands and knees stuck in his mind. Shit. He was in trouble.
Big trouble. He blurted out, “That’s okay, I believe you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with you? You have that deer in
the headlight look.”

His gaze lowered to her ratty old T-shirt clinging to her breast,
so much so he could see the nipples pushing against the fabric, his gaze
traveled lower to her jean shorts, the really short one’s with the frayed edges
where the legs have been snipped off. He swallowed hard, not sure what was
reflected on his face.

“Do I smell that bad?” she asked.

He cleared his throat, “Are you going to take a shower, or are you
coming to bed reeking of cleaning supplies?”

She showed him the change of clothes in her hands with a half
grin. “Relax, I’m going to take a shower. Mess with me and you’ll go back to
the couch, big boy.” Ah, a glimpse of the old Megan, the one that was smart
enough to always push him away. She walked to the doorway, and paused. “I’ll
try to be quiet when I come to bed… in case you’re already asleep.”

Chances of him falling asleep?

Slim, to none.

*****

Megan’s palm went to her chest as her shoulder blades rested
against the back of the closed door. For the moment, she was safe from making a
fool of herself, locked away in the bathroom. The same bathroom that still held
the scent of the male who had been nude in the very shower she was about to get
into. Under her palm her heart raced. Good grief. Her mouth had actually
started to water at the sight of Drew standing there clad in nothing more than
a white towel, a white towel that only made his tan skin even more noticeable.
For a brief moment she’d thought she’d seen him check her out as well. She’d
been so close to reaching out and touching everywhere her eyes had skimmed.

He was perfect.

She shed her sweaty T-shirt and shorts, stepped into the shower.
The steaming water pulverized her flesh, and she closed her eye’s trying to get
the mental image of Drew completely naked out of her mind. She squirted some of
her lavender bath wash in her hand, applying it in slow sensual circles all over,
foaming bubbles left everywhere she touched: down the front of her stomach,
along the column of her neck, over the swell of her sensitive breast, between
her legs… tingles had her lingering there on her swollen folds. The tips of her
breast hardened. If just imagining Drew nude made her this hot, what would it
be like to actually have him be the one touching her body? A shudder rippled
through her.

Would his penis be long like his fingers? Or would it stand thick,
and crooked? She slapped a wet palm over her eyes. Jesus, was she actually
thinking about how big he was? She’d totally lost it, hadn’t she?

Megan, you have got a filthy mind. No wonder the guy has no
interested in having sex with you. You’re too desperate!

No that wasn’t it. He had sex with Bailey, and she was desperate,
Megan could tell that by the way the girl had practically offered him sex
standing right there outside of the barn, no matter who was watching. So what
was it about her that turned off Jonathan Mackenzie’s womanizing son?

Suddenly, more irritated than aroused, she killed the water,
toweled off, and sifted through the clothes she’d brought to wear to bed. Crap.
She’d forgotten to grab a bra and underwear. No panties, she could live with.
No bra, that was a different story. She stepped into her cotton shorts, then
studied the thin white tank top. Her dark nipples would definitely show
through.

So what?

He has no attraction for you. Screw him. You never wear a bra to
bed, why start now?

As she’d expected the room was dark, except for the thin sliver of
light coming from the nite-light in the bathroom, and Drew was already in bed,
a still lump under the mounds of blankets. But he was on the wrong side, her
side of the bed. Her hands went to her waist, but she only shook her head and
sighed. Men. They always had to be difficult.

Just as she’d promised, she tried to be as quiet as possible
crawling in next to him. He lay on his side, facing away from her. She mirrored
his form, only facing in the opposite direction, her wide-awake eyes focused on
the wall. Damn. It sucked, feeling the heat coming off his back. He was asleep.
He’d never know. Exhaling a breath, she wiggled closer, until her back was
pressed as close to his as it could get. She exhaled another breath tucking her
clasped hands in between the pillow and her cheek. Tried to close her eyes.

“Are you okay?” came from his side.

“Yeah… why?”

“You keep sighing… I thought maybe something’s wrong.”

You can continue to feel this way, or just tell him the truth.

She rolled over, the front of her pressed up against his back.
“Okay, something is wrong. I want to know what it is about me that turns you
off?” She waited. Listened to his breaths. “Are you not even going to answer
me?”

He groaned, and rolled towards her. Suddenly he was there,
breathing the smell of mint tooth paste against her lips, his dark eyes staring
into hers. “You don’t turn me off.” He trailed two fingers down the side of her
face, “It’s the complete opposite.”

She swallowed hard. “Really?”

“Really.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. When Drew
kissed, he used more than just his lips, he used his tongue in a hot sensual
way that made Megan melt. Every now and then he’d catch her bottom lip between
his teeth and tug, only to lick away the sting. Out of all the guys she’d ever
kissed, he was hands down the best.

His fingertips skimmed her throat, her chest, over cotton, his
wide palm covering a swollen breast. “You don’t have on a bra,” he choked out,
glancing down at how well she filled his hand.

In that instant she felt it, his pulling back. Oh hell no, he
wasn’t going to get away that easily. (Not this time) Her fingers dipped over
the bare flesh of his chest causing his muscles to tighten as she went down,
down, following the dark line of hair to the elastic of his boxers. She didn’t
hesitate slipping her hand in to take hold of his erection, it jerked twice
when her fingers barely grazed it. Then she gripped the shaft. Oh man, it was
long and thick, felt perfect in her hand.

Drew sucked in a breath through his teeth. His kiss changed,
turning rougher, and more urgent as he rolled her to her back. Holding himself
up with arm’s bulging with muscles, he stared down at her while she stroked
him. Her hand spread the juices seeping from the tip of his penis, something
about knowing he was enjoying what she was doing made her wet. Her hand left
his boxers, both of her hands slid around to grip his ass cheeks, pulling him
forward until the length of him was stroking her center. Feeling as if she
could have an explosive orgasm at any minute, she went for his boxers again,
only this time she meant to strip them babies completely, along with her own
clothes. I mean that’s what they were going for here, wasn’t it? To have sex. Getting
naked was the first step in the right direction.

He grabbed hold of her searching hand to stop its progression and
collapsed down on top of her just like he had the last time, his cheek pressed
to her chest. He struggled to catch his breath. She could feel his speeding
heart, it matched her own. “We’ve got to stop. I don’t have a condom.”

“Why the hell would you not have a condom?” She was way beyond
sexually frustrated, and hadn’t meant for her words to come out so bitchy
sounding, but then a disgusting thought hit her. “Wait. You don’t use
protection whenever you screw all those skanks?” Gross. Aids was real. And it
freaked the hell out of her. She bucked her hips in an attempt to throw him off
her, it only served to have the opposite effect, exciting him even more.

*****

Drew grabbed each of her wrists as she tried to hit him. Not
making a move to get off of her, he pinned her struggling arms to the mattress
on either side of her head. He pressed his throbbing erection at her center,
swallowed anything she was going to say with his mouth.

His head snapped up, “You bit me!” He almost let go of a wrist to
assess the damage with a fingertip, almost. His tongue flicked out over the
tender spot on the corner of his lip, tasting metallic.

“Get off me!” She squirmed under him again.

He laughed, “All this, because I don’t have a condom.”

Her legs tightened around his hips, another attempt to cause him
pain. “Yes. I don’t have sex with guys who are stupid enough to not protect
themselves or their partners.”

He could feel the anger building. “Exactly how many “sexual
partner’s” have you had, Filly?”

“None without a condom.”

“We’ve already established that. How many?”

“It’s none of your damn business!”

His voice was louder, sharper. “How many?”

“Shh, are you trying to wake up everybody in the house?”

“Answer the damn question.”