Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy (13 page)

BOOK: Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy
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Had
he brought me here for seduction?  If so, when was he going to make his move?  We’d had dinner, and I’d gone to bed, and he hadn’t said or done a damn thing.

He put a spoon in the bowl and nudged it toward me.  “You sure there’s nothing else I can do…”

I searched his gaze, wondering if somehow he knew—

“…to help you relax?” he finished.  There was a dark gleam in his eye that said he very well frickin’ knew.  Somehow, some way, I got the sense this man knew exactly what he was offering.

“No, this is great,” I rasped, picking up the bowl.  I held it between us like a shield.  “Thank you.”

He nodded, and rounded the bar to go back to his paperwork.

I watched him go, wondering why I didn’t just take him up on it.  I wanted him.  But he still had a secret for me to unravel, and a strange hesitation where I was concerned.

What is he hiding?
I wondered as I went to sit on the stool next to him.  Behind us, the living room stretched in darkened, retro silence.  The house didn’t have a shag rug, but it was a close thing.

I took a few bites of my cereal, watching him make notes on the paper.  “What are you working on?” I asked.

“Still settling things with Dad’s estate.”

We drifted into a companionable silence.

I was the one who broke it, of course.  “Your dad had a lot of dead animals,” I observed.  They were looking at me from almost every bare surface with their empty, glassy eyes.  A lot of fish, but also caribou, moose, bear, fox, wolf, ptarmigan…  Pretty much any and every thing that was legal, or had
ever
been legal to hunt.  The trophies had overflowed the mantle a long, long time ago.

“Want any of them?” Ed asked.  He glanced up at me in a way I found ridiculously charming.  “All of them?”

“Why?  You don’t like them?”  I swear that Dall sheep was following me with its eyes.

“Never have,” Ed said.  “I have to figure out what to do with them.”

It was nice sitting next to him as he worked.  Relaxing, even with a whole menagerie watching us.  The only sounds were the ticking of an old clock, and me munching on my cereal.

He looked up again, and caught me watching him.  “What?”

“What
is
your name?” I asked.  “Your first name?  Your
full
first name.”

“Just Ed,” he said.

“Your mom named you just Ed?” I asked, remembering Dotty’s story of Ed’s flighty mother.

His gaze sharpened on me.  I returned his look, unperturbed.  He finally glanced away, and ran a hand through his hair.  “My
mom
,” he said, “named me Amedeo.”

I kept my face straight.  “Huh.  That’s…”  Words failed me.

“It’s horrible,” Ed said.

I was nodding before I could catch myself.

“So, yeah, she named me Amedeo, but my dad legally changed it to ‘just Ed’.”

“Did he change your last name, too?” I asked.

“Yes.  It’s Merritt, same as Ralph’s.”

I considered that a moment. 
Ed Merritt.
  It was a nice name, I decided.  “What about your middle—”

“Nope,” he said.

I laughed.  “But—”

“Nuh-uh.”

Eh,
I’d get it from him later.  Smiling, I found myself just looking at him, enjoying the vibrant life in his eyes.  He returned my gaze for a few moments, then shook his head and went back to his paperwork.

I finished my cereal, and decided to give sleep another try.  “Good night,” I told Ed for the second time that night.

“G’night,” he replied, his lips curving softly as he watched me go.

I got the hell outta there before I could ask him to join me.  I lay in bed for a long time, listening to the faint rustle of papers.  I turned over several times, unable to get the image of him out of my mind.  Just being in the same house with him, at night,
all
night, had my body buzzing.

I couldn’t sleep.  The gears in my mind kept turning, wondering about him, wondering who took my gold nugget.

The problem was compounded by being in a strange place.  It smelled strange, the finishes and colors and furniture were different than what I would have chosen.  The family pictures on the mantel, the view out over Anchorage with all the twinkling lights.  The occasional sound of a car engine or thrumming truck brake.  The marten staring at me accusingly from the dresser.

I should have just bit the bullet, made this a one-day trip.  It would’ve been a long day for sure, but I’d be back in my own bed right now, probably fast asleep after a quick bout with my vibrator.

Finally, I gave in to the inevitable.  There just wasn’t any help for it; if I wanted some sleep tonight, I’d have to rub one out.  I could be quiet about it, and I knew the naughtiness of having Ed in the building would speed things along.  It would only take a couple minutes, and then I’d be out like a light.

I slid my hand between my legs, and thought of Ed.  He was right out there in those fuzzy lounge pants, with those solid shoulders, that dark, tousled hair.  That tired little crease that I wanted to smooth from between his eyes.

I imagined him walking through the door.  His gleaming eyes would find me in the low light.  They’d be only for me, his gaze never wavering as he came closer.  His muscles would flex as he stripped off his shirt, and again as he tossed it aside.

I closed my eyes, hips tilting as my fingers started a fire.  My knees drew up, toes curling against the sheets.

The bed would dip as he climbed onto it.  He’d crawl over me, bringing with him his intoxicating scent.  His beard would tickle my face as he gave me a deep, hot, drugging kiss.  I let the sensations take over, touching myself in time to the stroke of imaginary Ed’s tongue.

He dragged down the covers.  I moaned, almost able to feel his hand smoothing up my thigh, the way his weight settled against me.  He was warm, and firm, and heavy.  I arched against him, flattening my breasts against his chest, and hooked a knee over his hip.  Those polar fleece pants were soft against my inner thigh, a sharp contrast to the hard bulge pressing my clit.

Imaginary Ed didn’t need to do much.  He just kissed me, and his hand came up to cup my breast.  He rubbed me like he had against the lettuce.

Between that, the hot slide of his tongue, and my busy fingers, I came.  It happened suddenly, so suddenly I hadn’t even really gotten into it, couldn’t fully embrace it.  It was short, and weak, and gone.

I opened my eyes, my dissatisfaction enhanced by the realization that Ed wasn’t there.  My body was throbbing, I wasn’t nearly satisfied, and the object of my desire wasn’t actually present.

And still, I couldn’t fucking sleep.

I finally got up again and opened the door.  The glow of his light still came from down the hall.  It was tempting, oh-so-tempting to seek out his company in the dark, lonely night.

But I didn’t.  Instead, I crossed to the bathroom.  I relieved myself, and brushed my teeth a second time.

I slipped back into the hall, and stepped on a squeaky floorboard.  In the darkness, it startled me.  I clutched my chest, heart pounding.

Wait, it was too dark. 
Where was Ed’s light?

I shrieked as hard arms suddenly scooped me up against an even harder body.  “What—Ed?” I asked, bewildered.

He carried me back into my bedroom, and tossed me on the bed.

I braced myself on my elbows, looking up at him.  “What are you—?”

“Shhh, let me help you,” he murmured.  He was already over me, kissing me breathless.

I didn’t fight him.  I was done fighting; he was what I wanted.  Instead, I tangled my hands in the thick material of his jacket.

“That’s better.  Let’s take this off you,” he whispered, tugging at my shirt.

I sat up, and he peeled the nightshirt off me and flung it into the darkness.  He pushed me back against the sheets and hovered over me, big and overwhelming.  The woods-and-leather scent of him flooded my senses… and his eyes
were
gleaming.  It was a hungry look.

His hand touched down on my belly, smoothed upward.  “You’re so beautiful,” he said.  His voice was hoarse, his touch sure as he cupped my breast.  My skin was pale against his hand.  My pink nipple hardened against the calloused edge of his thumb.

I reached for him.

“No,” he said, but his denial was gentle.  “No, let me.  I want to make you cum.”  He whispered it near my ear, and just the sound of it, the thought, was almost enough.

I whimpered and let my thighs fall apart.  He shifted between them, and something hard and cool and metal pressed against my knee.

Ed kissed me again, plundering my mouth.  He trailed heated kisses down my neck, my shoulder.  The hand he wasn’t using for support petted me.  He traced my waist and hip before coming back up to my breast.  He worried one nipple as he took the other gently between his teeth and tugged.

I just about came off the bed.  I was beside myself, lost in the sensations.  I had a hand full of his hair, and my other went white-knuckled on the headboard as I arched under him.

He moved farther down, exploring me, tasting everything he could reach.  His lips and tongue held me spellbound, and his beard was a delight all its own.  Its texture made me squirm and moan, especially when he reached my inner thighs.

My heart raced with anticipation.

I felt the wash of his breath against me first, and then, without warning, he slid a single finger into me.  I cried out, arching under his mouth, my muscles trembling.  My body throbbed around him, a heated, demanding pound.

He didn’t wait for me to calm.  I cried out even louder as he buried his mouth against me.  His tongue was a fiery lash.  His finger pressed deep in my soaked channel, his groan vibrating against me as I squeezed around him.

Pleasure blazed.  I shook.  A fine sheen of sweat had sprung up on my skin as I writhed under his tongue.  He worked the flat of it over me, sliding, rubbing…  My hips found his rhythm, meeting each of his finger’s sweet strokes.

I groaned when his tongue left me.

“You want me?” he asked.

“Yes!” I had no shame.  Not here, in the dark of the night, my body under his command.  I pulled at him, pushed up against him for more.

I almost cried when he slid his finger free.  I lay there panting as he shrugged out of his long coat.  He usually wore way too many clothes, but it was certainly overkill tonight.  While he unfastened his shirt, I attacked the buckle of the belt slung low across his hips.  The revolver that’d been pressing into my leg finally swung free, and I thumped the whole gun belt on the nightstand.  He shrugged out of his suspenders.

I got his pants open, and then he pushed me flat.  I lay back eagerly, pulling my legs up, giving him room.

He was big.  Big and wonderful, and considerate, because even with me digging my heels in to him, he pushed into me slowly.  He leaned down and kissed my neck, and I melted, accepting him.  He took me with slow, exquisite gentleness.  I was shuddering under him by the time he was finally inside me.

I groaned, pulling at him, and he rocked forward just a little farther, until his pubic bone pressed mine.  I answered with a rock of my own, grinding my clit against him.

He slid away, and I would have protested, but he moved his attentions to the other side of my neck.  He murmured my name, just under my ear, and then he pushed into me again.  It was a thrust even smoother, even deeper, even better than the first.

The need was growing, clawing at me.  As if sensing it, he thrust again, and again, soothing each ache even as he caused it.  His body worked over mine, pressing my thighs wide.  Our fingers tangled, and he pressed my hand into the mattress.  His movements became heavier, his thrusts rocking my whole body.

The pleasure was so acute, I could have cried.  I pushed myself into each of his rough thrusts.  My breaths came in fast pants, each exhale an exclamation of pleasure.  White fire flashed through my body, and I gasped his name as my neck arched.

The first quakes of my orgasm rumbled through me.

Ed growled against my neck, moving even harder, shaking the bed.  The knowledge of what I did to him, that he was losing control, ravaged my mind just as surely as he did my body.  I gripped his hand as I fell apart.

The earth shook.

“Captain,” came a tinny voice.

My pleasure stuttered.  What, and who, had that been?  But it was such a tiny blip on my radar, and Ed was still moving in me...

“Captain!”

“What?” I cried.  I was pissed at the interruption, which cost me the glorious aftershocks of what could have been a truly epic orgasm.

Ed had gone still.  “What is it, Wash?” he asked from above me.

My eyes flew open.

Ed was giving me a look, one brow raised, his lips quirked.

The bed shook under us, lurching suddenly in a long roll—without the aid of Ed’s hips.

“Captain, we’ve been hit!”

BOOK: Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy
6.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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