Snow Falling on Bluegrass (14 page)

He tasted like cinnamon graham crackers and sin. I had guessed his lips were soft, but I had no idea how inadequate that description was until they were touching mine. His fingertips ghosted over my cheeks and slid into my hair. I groaned, sliding my foot along his leg until his hips were cradled in mine.

Charlie leaned his forehead against mine and whispered, “I love math because it makes things predictable. I can expect people to behave a certain way based on the behavior of hundreds of other people. But you defy all logic, all probabilities. Believe it or not, when I compile results, I add a variable into the formula that I call the Kelsey Factor, accepting the likelihood that a very small percentage of the polled population will eschew the predicted action and do whatever the hell they want.”

“I do not know how to take that.”

“It's a good thing. I like it. It's a little boring being able to anticipate what's going to happen. I like that I never know what's going to come out of this mouth,” he said, rubbing his thumb along the seam of my lips.

He kissed me again. I pulled away briefly enough to say, “You, too. As well. Also.”

I know, even I was blown away by my eloquence.

“I need to tell you about something,” he murmured against my mouth.

My heart dropped. “Did you just decide that you're celibate?” I asked him.

His eyes went wide. “No.”

“Okay. Are you currently involved in a green-card marriage that you've kept secret from me over the last few years?”

He shook his head, trying like mad to suppress the grin on his lips. “No.”

“Do you want to borrow money?”

He shook his head again, dragging the tip of his nose across mine. “No.”

“Then it can wait,” I whispered. “All talking from here out will be of the sexy kind.”

He laughed and kissed me while trying to nod in agreement. Just when I was comfortable with his hovering over me, he wrapped my thighs around his hips and rolled me over him. I was straddling his hips, leaning back against his bent legs. He took my hair down, letting it fan around us like a dark curtain. Charlie grinned, wrapping the length of it around his hand and tugging my head back so he could nibble along my neck.

He arched his hips and my eyes flew wide. Every bad romance novel description of “turgid members” and “stiff wantonness” ran through my head in an obscene fast-forward. For a slender guy, Charlie seemed none-too-slightly above average in the proportion department. I was not ashamed to say that I ground down against him, keeping the pressure against my center at just the right angle to make me moan.

And the moan was followed by a soft yelp when his hands slid under my sweater, the cold fingers slipping over my skin, making me jump as they eased toward my bra. He laughed against my mouth, murmuring apologies as he worked loopy circles against my skin to warm them up. Gently pulling my sweater over my head, he nuzzled the cups of my bra, his lips tracing the mounds with a reverence I'd only seen paid to religious icons and mint-condition action figures.

I plucked at the buttons on his shirt, slowly revealing more of his skin—smooth, pale skin stretched over lean muscle that I wanted to lick and kiss and bite until I left little Kelsey stamps all over him. Charlie left my breasts to their own devices long enough to kiss me again, and somehow my pants fell right off.

It was broad daylight. There was nowhere to hide from the reflected snowlight streaming through the blankets. Charlie would be able to see every ripple, every blemish. I supposed I could dive under the blankets and pretend I was cold. But I didn't want to be silly right now. Kissing me, he gently pushed me back on the pillows and peeled down his own jeans.

He promised, “When we are not trapped in a bad survivalist TV episode, I will worship your breasts with the reverence they deserve. Because I feel like I have been offered a glimpse of one of God's greatest masterpieces.

“It's not that I'm
only
interested in your body. You being a funny, adorable, intelligent, kind, fierce, loyal person is, of course, a lovely side benefit to looking like you were designed by some brilliant, deviant pinup cartoonist.”

“That may be the dirtiest thing I have ever heard you say.”

“I'm just getting started.” He laughed into the mound of my left breast. I realized that I hadn't worn the irresponsible black lace panties I'd smuggled into my suitcase. I had worn ninja panties with a little pink bow on the waistband.

Charlie didn't seem to care much, given the way he pushed the panties aside to trace the outline of my sex with his index finger, making me shudder. I gasped, bucking against his cool palm and pulling back from his kiss.

“Are we about to have sex in a pillow fort in broad daylight?” I asked.

He nodded. “I think we are. Unless you forgot to pack condoms in that enormous bag of yours.”

I scoffed and reached out of the fort to locate my Mary Poppins purse. Condoms were in their own secret compartment in the liner. I pulled out a neon blue glow-in-the-dark model in extra large.

“Just checking,” he said, eyeing the package. “And thank you for the vote of confidence.”

He kissed me again and I felt like pinching myself to make sure this wasn't a dream or a bout of snow madness. I was more-than-half-naked with Charlie Bennett, waiting patiently as he rolled on a condom. I'd wanted this for such a long time that I was a little frightened now that it was happening. What if we were no good together? What if I couldn't guess what he liked? What if . . .

Charlie ringed my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and I completely forgot what I was dithering over internally. The laughter was gone as well, but I found I didn't mind so much. The quiet intensity with which he studied me and considered his options before choosing just the right course of pleasing me was possibly the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. He slid inside me, so silky smooth that I barely felt anything beyond the potent, powerful sensation of being filled.

I shifted over him, but couldn't rise fully on my knees because I would whack my head on the tabletop. I could only roll my hips, keeping our bodies in full contact, skin against skin. He spanned my waist with his hands, helping me find a rhythm. It was slow, so slow I could appreciate every movement, every slide. And it gave him the perfect angle to nuzzle and kiss my breasts as I rode him.

He sighed my name against my skin over and over as the coiling tension built below my stomach. His hips pumped faster as he dragged his thumb in tight little circles between my thighs. I was going to come. It had been such a very long time since I'd come, and the little noises in my throat were starting to sound desperate.

Charlie cupped my face in his hands, forcing me to look him in the eye as he gave one last rolling thrust. That was it.

I threw my head back and howled as everything inside me rippled into release. Charlie's hand snaked up between my breasts and over my mouth as he moaned and followed me over the edge. He had to keep me quiet now, to keep our friends from catching us. And even as the lovely throbbing energy ebbed out of my body, I had to find that sort of hot.

Sighing, he drew his hand away and fell back. I tried to catch myself against the blankets, bracing my hands behind his shoulders to keep my weight from falling on him. But Charlie's shoulder nudged my wrist out of the way and I landed against his chest with a
thwump
.

I reeled back, expecting a sharp complaint, the sort of thing Darrell would have turned into a nightlong gripe session. But before I could apologize, Charlie was kissing me, chuckling against my mouth.

“I have to say that was the best pillow fort sex I've ever had,” he said with a sigh, pulling me against his side.

“Me, too. Not that I've had a lot of pillow fort sex. Or any, really.” I nibbled his bottom lip. “But I'm really glad that this finally happened.”

“Finally?” he said, shifting up on his elbows. “Have you wanted this to happen for a while?”

For some reason, the teasing words made the smile slide right off my face. “Don't.” I rolled away from him. “Don't do that.”

“Wait, wait.” He caught me by the shoulders and pulled me close, drawing a blanket around me. “What did I say?”

“Don't pretend with me. Just ask me to tell you how I feel. Or better yet, tell me how
you
feel so I don't feel like a total idiot. But don't sit there and pretend like you don't know that I have wanted you for a really long time . . . a ridiculously long time.”

He kissed me long and hard, pressing his forehead against mine. “How long?”

“I just said not to do that!”

“Really, I mean it. I don't know what you're talking about. I never saw any signs from you of being interested in me. Believe me, if I had seen them, I would have thrown you onto the nearest flat surface and put your thighs over my shoulders while singing the
Hallelujah
chorus at the top of my lungs.”

I tried to ignore the insane rush of images that description called to mind. “Then either you have a serious vision issue or I need to go over the checklist of signs that a woman is interested in a man.”

He stared at me. I sighed. “I hung on every word you said. Translated our idiot coworkers' antics into a language you could understand. I even smiled when you made math jokes. I couldn't laugh, because I didn't understand them, but I smiled. I wouldn't have done any of those things for someone I didn't have a significant interest in.”

“How was I supposed to know that meant you were interested in me? For all I knew, you were happily ensconced in your relationship with Darrell. And for the record, I can't remember a time when I didn't want you. I've wanted you from the first second I saw you.”

“Oh, come on; when we met, I was walking around the office with a Post-it stuck to my butt. I remember because it contained a particularly embarrassing grocery list.”

He ran his hand over my bare ass cheek. “I only remember what seemed like a bright yellow flag waving from your perfect heart-shaped butt, screaming, ‘Notice me! Ogle me! Touch me!' And then wondering if you were going to slap me for putting my hand anywhere near you. But you smiled at me, made a joke about
you
being clumsy, and put me at ease. I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I was a goner. You really had no clue?”

“Not one. Your ‘man on the prowl' signals leave much to be desired.”

“Well, then I am going to spell it out for you. I like you. ‘Like' does not begin to describe what I feel for you, but I think it's all we're comfortable with for right now. And I want you even more. I want the whole Kelsey package,” he said, turning my back to him and sliding his lips down the column of my spine. He gave one butt cheek and then the other a little bite. “This is my second favorite of your physical features.”

What had I done to sweet, unassuming Charlie Bennett? I shifted toward him and stared into his deep green eyes, looking for some sign that he'd undergone a sort of sex-based Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde personality change. But he just gave me that sweet grin in return, stroking his hands down my arms.

I threaded my fingers through his hair and snuggled closer to him. “Maybe you should list them one by one.”

The pillow fort seemed warmer, somehow, even though we were wearing a lot less clothing than when we entered it. I curled against Charlie's side, enjoying a quiet post-second-round moment while he played with my hair.

“So, I haven't really been the best friend to you for the last few months,” he said.

“Oh, right, that conversation we have been trying to have for days, which Josh has done everything short of tap-dance naked across the lobby to prevent.”

He snorted and bopped me on the side of the head gently with a couch cushion. “I'm serious. I have been . . .”

While he struggled to find words to describe our situation over the past couple months, I supplied, “Distant, occasionally cold, emotionally unreliable, just a tad douchey . . . I can keep going.”

“Gah, I wish that was less accurate,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “I have been distant and aloof, but there was a reason, I promise. I was trying to—” He groaned. “This sounds so stupid now that I'm saying it out loud. I was trying to get you out of my system, like detox.”

“So I'm toxic in this scenario? Because in terms of pillow talk, I would say telling a gal ‘You're like crystal meth' is not the way to go.”

“No, and that was the problem. You're not toxic. You're too damn good, and smart, and funny, and gorgeous. And you were with
Darrell
,
and no matter what anyone said, you just didn't seem able to shake him loose. I didn't think you were ever going to be free from him, or know if you really wanted to be. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but I was so afraid that you wouldn't feel the same way, and then I'd have ruined our friendship
and
I'd still have to watch you date Darrell. So I kept quiet and I watched, until I just decided that I couldn't watch anymore. Otherwise, I was going to be alone, pining for you, instead of having some sort of life for myself. I wanted to start a life with someone, have a real relationship, maybe even get married. I decided that it would be better to back away, to let go of you, because not having you at all was better than watching you let Darrell hurt you over and over again. I didn't want to hurt you, but I just couldn't be so close to you anymore.”