Sweet on You (The Wilde Sisters #1) (12 page)

Rayne groaned. “No, don’t tell her I’m sick. She’ll give me a lecture and read me all sorts of nasty statistics about germs and death and stuff.”

“Who will take care of you?”

Leave it to Thyme to worry about something like that. She couldn’t sneeze without calling Rayne and Sage and asking them to take care of her.

“I can manage. All I need is some sleep.” She eyed her sister skeptically. “You sure you want my morning classes?” Thyme had been covering for her a lot lately, picking up the classes when her girls went on vacation.

“Tuesday is Zumba and Kick, right? Totally got it.”

Sighing, but really needing the break, she caved. “Okay. You remember how to lock up? Call me if you need anything.”

“On it. Go.” Thyme opened the door and led Rayne out.

The moment she opened the front door to her apartment, she ran for her bathroom and tossed up her breakfast. Gross. Next year she’d sign up for the flu shot.

Rayne’s body felt stiff and not in the recently-been-used-by-Trent Kipson’s-incredible-magic way. Her head ached, her stomach felt empty, yet her body felt like one false move and she’d be hurling internal organs into the toilet. And her ears were ringing. So. Damn. Loud.

Or maybe it was the phone. Falling asleep with her hand wrapped around her cell phone just in case the gym needed her had been a good idea a few hours ago. Or minutes or days. She had no idea how much time had passed since she last worshiped the porcelain god and got intimate with her guts. Nasty.

The phone vibrated and rang in her hand. “Wha…” she moaned.

“Rayne? Is that you?”

“Mm.” She wanted to curl into Trent’s voice—better yet, his arms, and feel the comfort of his hard body. It would most definitely make her aches go away.

“Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“Flu,” she croaked. “Sick.”

“Sweetheart, you sound like death.”

“Mmm.”

“Give me twenty minutes to close up shop. I’m on my way.”

“’Kay.” If her face didn’t hurt so much she’d definitely be smiling. And were those butterflies in her stomach or signs of an upcoming date with her toilet? It didn’t matter. Her prince was coming to rescue her. Rayne imagined smiling—she didn’t have enough energy to do the actual deed—and living happily ever after.

And then she slept.

***

Trent

The door was locked. He could either keep pounding on the door until Rayne woke up or he could find the super and ask to be let in. Neither idea appealed to him. Trent would feel better about Rayne’s security system if he
didn’t
let some strange man into her locked apartment.

So now what? He could call Sage. Her business card was somewhere in his SUV. No, that would make him look like a desperate fool. If Rayne really wanted him to come over she would have left the door unlocked. Trent ran his hand over his face, scratching his stubble on his palm. Why the hell was he even here? The woman didn’t ask for him to take care of her and he sure as hell didn’t want to seem pushy. Or like a lovesick fool.

Trent shuddered.
Lovesick?
No. Lustsick, maybe. The woman was hot. Sexy. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Yeah, lust. One hundred percent pure lust. He wiped the figurative drool hanging off his chin and pulled his iPhone out of his pocket. One last try and then he was out of here. It wasn’t like Rayne was in any condition to naked tango anyway. And there was no other reason for coming to her apartment. Sex. That’s what their new relationship was about.

Trent’s conscience laughed at him. And friendship. Hell, they were friends long before the sex started. Friends with benefits. Yeah, that’s what this was, his inner devil chirped from his right shoulder. Just sex.

The angel on his left frowned, as did Trent. So he wouldn’t be getting any benefits tonight, but he could still be her friend.

The phone rang four times before her soft voice answered.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m outside your door. Can you let me in or do you want me to leave you alone? Let you rest.”

“Coming,” she whispered before hanging up.

Yeah, he would be too if he didn’t stop reminiscing about Sunday’s marathon sex.

All pornographic thoughts quickly vanished when she opened the door. Donned in an oversized Patriots jersey and nothing else, Rayne couldn’t hide the fact that she had the flu. One side of her hair was smashed against her skull while the other side sported a loose ponytail ready to fall out of its elastic. The dark circles under her eyes only made her skin appear more ashen. Lips that were normally shiny and red were chapped and pale. Still, if she had been willing and able, he’d rip off her clothes in two-point-two and have his way with her. She looked sexy in a sad and pathetic way. His heart, previously overrun with lust, had just filled with something else he couldn’t identify.

“Sweetheart.” He stepped into her tiny galley kitchen, shut the door with his foot, and scooped her up into his arms. “You need to be in bed.”

Her head lolled on his chest. “I was. But you called.”

Guilt filled the remaining space in his heart. “Sorry. I’ll go. I didn’t know you were this bad.”

She attempted to circle her arms around his neck but they fell quickly to her side. “No. Glad you’re here.” He felt her purr into his chest and his groin tightened.

Once in her room, he lay her down on her frilly bed and she instantly curled into the fetal position. Trent pulled the top sheet over her body, covering her tempting legs and the seductive curve of her hip. He walked over to the window and pulled the shade down.

“Can I get you anything before I go?”

“Don’t leave. Please.” Rayne opened her eyes, reached out, and grabbed his wrist.

Then that heart full of lust, tenderness and guilt, twisted. “Baby, you need sleep. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Hold me.”

His jeans suddenly got very snug in the front. Since when did a woman, a sick woman nonetheless, asking him to cuddle turn him on?

Since Rayne got a hold of his heart.

***

Rayne

She had to be dreaming. But this time it was different. She could practically feel strong arms wrapped around her and a solid chest pressed against her back. And an impressive package snugged up against her butt. Rayne smiled. This was no dream. Trent, her knight in shining armor, came to her rescue and made the icky flu bug go away.

Well, maybe not totally away, but she felt much better cocooned in his arms. The steady cadence of his heart beating against her shoulder blade told her he was asleep. Not wanting to ruin the magical moment, she sighed and nestled in closer, soon drifting back to her dreams as well.

The room was dark when her eyes opened again. She felt the bed move, heard it creak, and rolled over to watch Trent adjust himself in his jeans.
Oh, damn flu!
Despite how she felt, she still craved him. But the cottony taste in her mouth and the smell—oh gawd! She needed a toothbrush—made her think better of it.

“Hey,” she murmured.

“Rayne.” He turned to face her and frowned. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, you didn’t.” She unfolded her legs and slowly brought herself to a seated position, holding her head to stop the spinning. Trent rounded the bed and sat next to her.

“Thanks,” she said shyly. “For staying with me.”

“How are you feeling?” He cupped her chin in his palm and inspected her face.

“Better. I could use some water. Or tea.”
And you.

“On it.” He quickly left the room, leaving Rayne to her thoughts, which had nothing to do with kicking the flu bug and everything to do with falling in love.

***

Trent

Trent didn’t let her talk him into staying the night. One rule he didn’t break when dating a girl, no matter how sick. Not that he’d ever tended to a sick girlfriend before. He’d never spent the night with a woman and he wasn’t going to start now. Even though it was three in the morning and he had to be at work in an hour, didn’t mean he’d broken his hardcore rule. Brian would argue the technicality that Trent actually
did
spend the night, but Trent would argue back that spending the night meant you woke up together in the morning. Did the coffee, eggs, and toast thing.

Nope. Not this confirmed bachelor. Trent hung around—he’d never tell Brian that he spooned with Rayne all night—for a few hours and then left at three. Most normal people would call that the middle of the night. Hell, New Yorkers were just coming in from a night of partying at this time. And only midnight in California. A place he’d be in a few months.

Manhood in place, Trent whistled as he drove home. He continued arguing with his inner conscience as he stood under the water in his shower and got ready for work. Twenty minutes later he pulled into his bakery, unlocked the back door, and turned on the lights to his kitchen, picturing Rayne’s lithe body molded to his against the walk-in cooler.

Sweet Spot
took on a whole new meaning.

Chapter Eleven

Rayne

Three days. It never took that long to recuperate after being sick. She’d even called her doctor, who ordered her a round of antibiotics. Trent came by every night with soup and frozen yogurt—which she refused to eat—and cuddled with her throughout the night. Every morning she woke to an empty bed, but she still wore a smile on her face, and nothing else.

Their relationship moved from friends, to lovers, to caretaker. If that didn’t say
love
what did? She couldn’t admit her true feelings to her sisters, much less Trent, for fear that it would all come crashing down. Slow and steady. Trent feared relationships and was allergic to love. No, that little secret she would keep locked away until he was able to admit he felt the same way.

And she knew he did. He’d never tended to a girlfriend before. They’d had that discussion months ago when they were simply friends. He admitted to never recognizing any girl he dated as a “girlfriend” and he surely never cuddled all night when there was no sex involved. Heck, he had said clear as the Maine sky that he didn’t cuddle. Back then she thought he played for the other side and couldn’t quite picture a man as alpha as Trent spooning with Brian and thought nothing of the comment.

Smiling, Rayne came back to present day. He sure as heck spooned with her. Yup. Love. Whether Trent Kipson wanted to admit it or not, he was falling for her. Rayne slid out of bed and into the shower. The mirror didn’t lie. She looked like crap. Her nose, always reliable, didn’t lie either. She smelled worse.

Yet Trent stayed by her side and treated her like a precious gem.

Oh yeah. He loves me.

***

Trent

What’s a respectable amount of time to wait after a woman has the flu before ripping off her clothes and having your way with her?
He wanted to ask Brian but didn’t. It had been eight days since Rayne went back to work and twelve days since he’d seen her naked. Well, ten days ago he saw her partially naked when she inched out of bed to use the bathroom. Her jersey rode up, revealing her hot pink panties. No thong, but he couldn’t imagine wearing one of those things would be comfortable while lying in bed all day.

Trent shuddered. He didn’t think wearing a string in his ass would be comfortable ever, but he sure did appreciate it when Rayne would forego comfort and wear the dental floss between her cheeks. Such fine, fine, cheeks. He sipped his beer and stared at the television, realizing two innings had gone by and he had no recollection of the Sox getting up to bat.

“Dude. You still not getting any?”

Trent stopped his beer halfway to his mouth and muttered a curse.

“I don’t have the right anatomy to do that, my friend,” Brian laughed. “I thought you and Rayne had something going?”

Trent never told his best friend that he’d had sex—amazing, mind-blowing sex—with Rayne. Brian just assumed it. Probably when Trent’s mood turned over-the-top happy and he became too busy to hang out with Bri. And definitely when he and Rayne skipped the Labor Day weekend at the lake. He never denied, but never admitted it either. A man was due some privacy. Still, a part of him wanted to confide in his best friend.

Down, girl.
The cuddling and almost-sleepovers weren’t helping his masculinity any. Faith’s cries snapped him out of his thoughts. “Is Faith okay?”

“I swear the girl knows when her mama is gone. She doesn’t nap for longer than an hour when I’m on baby patrol but will sleep all afternoon with Claire.” Brian got up and went down the hall toward the crying baby. By the time he returned, Faith was giggling and drooling.

Trent smiled at his niece and put his beer down so he could hold her. “Hey, angel.” She always had this smell. Clean. Sweet. Innocent. Similar to…no, he wouldn’t go there.

“Claire just texted. She’ll be home from work in an hour. She has a play date with her girlfriends and their babies later. Tonight good for a poker night?”

Long overdue poker with the guys, or a game of strip poker with Rayne? Easy decision.

“Can’t. Got plans.” He blew raspberries on Faith’s belly and handed her off to Brian. “Gotta go.”

“What? You’ve been here for twenty minutes.” Realization must have set in. “Dude,” he dragged out. “You’ve got a date with Zumba.”

“Shut it, man.”

Trent tried to tone down the goofy grin as he drove home to take a shower before meeting Rayne, and was barely able to keep a straight face while he shaved, nicking himself twice in the process. They’d joked about strip poker or checkers or chess. Strip chess would be a guaranteed win for him since she’d never played before.

Tonight’s agenda was a surprise. Wild monkey sex on his chaise lounge on his deck? Or on his kitchen counter? Or his workout bench? Or the stairs?

Hell, he still had rug burn from the last time.

***

Rayne

“You sure you’re ready for this?”

Rayne tossed her hair over her shoulder in a flirtatious manner. “You scared, sugar?”

Trent laughed. “Bring it on.”

“Care to make a wager?”

“Hell no.”

Rayne bit back a smile and attempted to insult his manhood. “You’re scared that a woman who has been down with the flu for a week is going to whip your butt zip lining?”

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair. “What’s the bet?”

“Can we decide when we finish?”

“Hell no.”

“You’re no fun.” She pouted.

Trent surprised her at work after her last class. He had a cooler all packed and followed her home so she could shower—alone, unfortunately—and dress for their hike and outdoor adventure.

“Fine. We’ll keep it simple. Winner chooses dinner. When, what, and where.”

“I can handle that. I’ll come up with my menu while I’m waiting for you to catch up.”

“Hah!”

Rayne shimmied into the harness similar to the contraption at the rock wall place and a tall, young, attractive employee fastened her straps. Trent’s glare and red cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. He didn’t approve of another man’s hands near her crotch. She held on to the man’s shoulder for support. And to annoy Trent. “What’s your name? Seeing how you have your hand on my butt, I figured I ought to know.”

The man laughed. “Drake. And you are?”

“Rayne. Nice to meet you, Drake,” she said coyly, batting her eyelashes at him and enjoying Trent’s jealousy.

“I can do the rest.” Trent tried muscling poor Drake out of the way.

“Sorry, sir. Policy says every person must be checked and rechecked by an employee. Insurance and all.”

Rayne shrugged and smiled at Trent.

“Rayne,” he growled.

After another employee checked her harness and helmet strap and hooked her up to the line, she winked over her shoulder at Trent, who was being checked over by two other Sunday River employees. “Meet you on the flipside.” She blew him a kiss, held onto the rope, picked up her legs, and pushed off the edge, squealing in delight. The rush of the wind blowing through her hair as she breezed over the treetops was exhilarating. She scanned the horizon and stared below at a deep ravine and streambeds that were nestled just off the now-vacant ski trails.

Her body felt weightless, free of every burden and stress that she wore day in and day out. Her parents, keeping her sisters close, her business, her sex life. Ah, her sex life. Flying down the zip line was almost orgasmic.
Almost.
Trent could make her fly faster and higher than a 750-foot drop any day of the week.

She heard a shout from Trent and admired his taut, hard body and enormous smile. He hollered like a little kid, obviously enjoying his run. He passed by her so she could only make out his delectable buns, but that was okay with her.

After a series of runs through the woods and the mountain, the rush began to slow as they neared the end. Trent had made touchdown and watched her finish her race.

“How was it?” He pulled her to him and kissed her quickly on the lips.

“Amazing is too simple a word. Wow. What a rush!”

“I thought you’d like it. It took you long enough to get here. I had plenty of time to come up with a menu for dinner,” he teased.

They took the shuttle back to Trent’s car and ate their picnic at one of the tables at the rest area.

“You up for a hike now?”

She wanted to say,
I’d go anywhere with you
but knew that would scare him away. Simple and sexy. That was their relationship.

An hour into the hike he led them off the trail and deeper into the woods. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked. “You hear about hikers getting lost in the woods all the time.”

“We’re not going far.” His voice was gruff and almost…irritated. They hadn’t talked much during the hike. Rayne followed closely behind, thoroughly enjoying the view. Could he be mad at her for some reason?

“Trent. Are you okay—”

He turned around and roughly grabbed her, pulling her body into his. She felt his need, his urgency, in his tongue and through his jeans. Before she had time to process, her jeans were unzipped and shucked away. He had one hand on her butt, the other pushing away her bra for easier access to her breasts.

“Oh, God,” she moaned.

“Rayne,” he gasped into her mouth. “I can’t wait any longer.” Dropping to the ground, he pulled her on top of him and plunged deep into her body, soul, and mind.

***

“Did I hurt you?” Trent sat up a while later, after he’d given her the ride of a lifetime. Rayne was still straddling him, her legs wrapped tightly around his body.

“God, no.” She leaned her forehead on his shoulder.

He was always so sweet after they made love. “I’m sorry if I—”

“Shh, don’t apologize. That was…wow.” Rayne lifted her head and kissed him tenderly.

“I don’t know if I can hike much farther. I’m getting too old for these outdoor adventures.”

“Oh?” Rayne pulled away suddenly and stood. “You do this often, do you?” She tried to tease and hide the hurt behind her eyes. Trent Kipson was a virile man. He’d obviously had lots of sexual adventures with his women and Rayne was used to vanilla bedroom sex. Another example of how wrong they were for each other.

“Can’t say I do.”

After zipping up, she glanced sheepishly at Trent, who had already righted himself.

“Crap. Uh, Trent?”

“What is it?”

“We sort of forgot to…well, um, we didn’t use protection.”

He swore and clenched his fists. The look of dread on his face hurt more than it should have. She didn’t want to get pregnant right now either, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“You said you were on the pill, so we’re safe, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m clean. I always use protection and have regular check-ups.”

“Um, yeah. Me too.” No, he didn’t
always
use protection. Their first time against the freezer door of his bakery kitchen they’d forgone the condom and relied on her birth control. And she didn’t need to be reminded that he was a regular in the condom-buying department.

“You’re not pregnant. I mean…there’s really no chance…”

“No, no chance. I haven’t missed any pills. Even when I was sick. I’ve been on the pill for a long time and have never had any…problems.”
Eat that! Yes, I’ve been having sex before I met you.
Not that she could remember a single sexual encounter before him. Trent sort of wiped everyone else from her memory.

“Good. Good. ‘Cause you know I don’t want kids. It’s…I just…yeah.”

“I know.” She turned away from him and fixed her bra, squeezing her eyes shut to block the tears from flowing. God, she was stupid!

The hike back to the parking lot was quiet and tense. If he hadn’t made it clear before that he didn’t do relationships and commitment, he sure as hell clarified it today. Being dumped by a fiancé, heck, two fiancés, didn’t hurt as much as this. Looking back on her previous relationships, Rayne could honestly admit that she wasn’t upset about losing her fiancés; it was about the loss of a possible marriage. She dreamed of the fairy tale so desperately she convinced herself any man would do.

She’d been fooling herself. No man would do. She wanted and needed Trent Kipson more than she needed to breathe.

***

Trent

“I’ve got an early start tomorrow, so I’m going to go.” Trent kissed Rayne lightly on the lips and watched her open the car door.

“Yeah. Me too. Thanks for today. I had a lot of fun.”