When Least Expected (6 page)

It was out of his reach, but not too far up. Maybe a step stool?

“Can you hold me up? I think I can reach it if you pick me up,” she said, standing. The blanket fell back to the sofa, abandoned, as she came to stand next to him.

“What?” He laughed at her idea.

“Hold me up.” She pointed up at the painting again. “What? Are you getting wimpy?”

Could
he hold her up? Of course he could. It wasn't a question of physically being able to help her get the painting. The issue was proximity. Picking her up meant he would need to touch her. Again.

Not just touch her, but wrap his arms around her and pull her against him. Like he had on the trail earlier, when he almost couldn't let her go. He was doomed.

Alexis was hot
and
sexy. There was a distinction between the two.

Hot was how a girl looked, and with those long legs, flowing brown hair, cute little ass, and striking blue eyes, Lexi was all shades of hot.

Sexy was how a girl acted. If a hot girl didn't know how to move her body, she was just hot. Alexis knew how to move that body. She made everything she did seem sexy. He remembered how he once got hard just watching her take clothes out of the dryer.

He didn't know why he thought it would be different now. It wasn't. Somehow it was worse, because he hadn't been like that with her in so long. She was still hot, and she was still very, very sexy.

She was also still standing in front of him, waiting to be lifted so she could get the painting.

“Yeah. Come here.” He was trying to prove something to himself. He could handle this. She was his ex-wife. He took a moment to decide if it would be better to have her breasts in his face or her ass.

He decided on breasts because it would be a quick pass by instead of her ass, which would be in front of him for however long it took her to get the painting.

He bent, wrapped his arms around her thighs, and stood up.

“Can you reach it?” he asked, hoping she'd hurry. He hadn't planned on her stomach being in front of him.

As she reached, her shirt came up.

Now her bare, flat stomach was right in front of his face. Her cute little belly button was staring him right in the eye, begging for him to lean in and run his tongue along the edge of it. His body began to react. Shit. He saw a flash of bright colors by her left hip and then he heard an “Eww!” before she shifted away from the wall so quickly it threw him off balance.

He could only hope to protect her as they tumbled to the floor in a heap. He heard the painting clatter a few feet away. Fortunately, they landed on the thick braided rug, which softened their fall.

“Are you okay?” he asked as she winced on top of him.

“Yes. I'm so sorry. I thought it was a spider, but it might have already been dead. Are you okay?” She started to squirm to get off him, but he was still holding her steady in case of injury. At least that was the lie he was telling himself.

As she moved against him again, his erection lurched against her leg, causing her to jump. Double shit.

He closed his eyes as she froze on top of him.

It wasn't as if he could very well throw her off him. It was better to make a joke.

“Is there any possibility you could pretend you didn't notice that?” he asked with his eyes still closed.

She giggled. Great.

Then she moved again, this time slower. She was making it worse. Was she doing it on purpose?

He opened his eyes to see her watching his face as she bit her bottom lip. God, not biting the lip. That got him every time. He lurched again, causing another giggle.

“Maybe I could have pretended not to notice the first time,” she said with a big smile as she slithered against him. He looked down. Yes. She was definitely slithering. Definitely doing it on purpose.

She leaned down, her hair brushing against his neck. She moved so slowly, he should have seen what was coming, but honestly he hadn't.

Not until her lips touched his.

He jerked away from her, banging his head on the floor.

“What are you doing?” he gasped, stupidly.

“Let's have sex,” she said, as if there was no doubt he'd go along with it. Her confidence made him even harder.

“What?” he choked. She wasn't that drunk. What was going on?

“You obviously want to. I want to. You don't have a girlfriend anymore. Let's have sex.” She kissed him again while he thought over her reasoning. It was sound, but still . . .

“Lex. This is a bad idea.”

“Why?” she whined, killing him. “Come on. Do you know how long it's been since I've had good sex? A long time! Please? No strings attached.”

“
No strings
? Are you kidding? We're divorced.” He felt the need to point out the obvious because she seemed to have forgotten.

“So? We're free to be with whoever we want, and I want to be with you. Right now.” She reached for his pants, and he quickly rolled her off him. More and more of his body parts were jumping ship and joining her side of the argument.

“Lex. I can't. I don't want this to turn into something where I end up hurting you again. I can't stand hurting you.”

“Then don't say no. Because if I don't get some soon, I might seriously explode, and I'm pretty sure that would hurt.” She moved for him again and he let her. “It looks like you might be in some pain, too,” she teased as she undid the button on his jeans.

This was really happening
, he thought as her lips pressed against his again. He was kissing Lexi. His hands were on her ass. She wanted to have sex with him. How many times had he thought of this since he left? Millions.

“Okay. Not on the floor,” he said, giving in completely. He stood up and reached for her hands to hoist her up next to him. “I can't believe we're doing this,” he murmured to himself as he led her up to his room.

She already had her shoes kicked off and was reaching for her shirt.

“Hold on! Let me do it. You want the good sex right?” He smiled at her, and her returning smile had his heart racing. The heart that had been a weight was now light and eager to pull him toward this moment with Lexi.

He pushed her back on the bed and kissed her the way he used to. Long, lingering, and deep. She moaned against his mouth and he almost erupted right then. He needed to calm down or she wasn't going to get the good sex.

He had always loved how Alexis responded to sex. A few strategically placed kisses and she was good to go. And when she was good to go, he could always satisfy her thoroughly.

Not that fakey ooh and ahh kind of thing that girls did to get a guy to finish up quicker, but the real kind. With her legs seized around his waist, her muscles clenching and throbbing in the way that made him ache to join her. He would have felt smug about being able to get her off so quickly every time, but he was pretty sure it was more her than him.

His theory had been confirmed after a few rounds with Meeghan. That girl was hard. He usually just gave in and made it up to her with dinner. Maybe if he cared more, he would have tried harder, but he didn't care. Not like he cared now.

His hands shook as he pulled Lexi's shirt over her head. As he reached for the button on her shorts, he saw that flash of color he'd seen earlier.

“What the hell is this?” he stammered as he tugged her shorts down just enough so he could see it better.

“Oh. It's a tattoo. Roslyn and her sister took me to get it after the divorce, to make me feel empowered.”

“Did it make you feel empowered?” he asked as he stroked his fingertips over the purple and yellow lilies.

“I'm not sure. It was kind of itchy. Does empowerment itch?” She laughed nervously as she watched his reaction.

“I don't know, Lex, but it's sexy as hell.” He couldn't hide his surprise. She was always such a good girl. This was a very bad girl thing to do.

She smiled. “Really? You like it?”

“I'm already harder than a hickory stump, but trust me, if I wasn't, this would totally be doing it for me right now,” he admitted.

“I never realized you liked tattoos.” She scrunched up her nose adorably, and he bent to kiss her just because he couldn't help it.

“I don't think I liked them until I saw this.”

He kissed down her stomach and traced his tongue across her new artwork. She wiggled against him.

“I'm ready for the good sex now,” she announced as she stretched her arms over her head.

“Keep your pants on. Don't rush me,” he said, looking down at her pants, which were open but still on. “Good things take time.”

“You never needed a lot of time before,” she challenged, reaching for his pants again. This time he let her unzip them. When her hand touched him, he had to back away.

“Lex. Please just give me a minute. I wasn't prepared for this at all, and I need a minute.”

“A minute.” She held up her one finger and then pointed down.

Her bra unhooked in the front, so he undid it and stared at her.

“You're so beautiful. I forgot how beautiful you were,” he told her.

She tugged at his shirt, pulling him down so she could kiss him again. She was so amazing. It was like it had been when they first got married. Before they started trying for a baby and sex became a job instead of fun.

Her fingers worked his shirt up in the front and he helped by grabbing the back of his collar and pulling it over his head, before kissing her again. He couldn't get enough of her kisses. It had been so long.

He moved down to her breasts, playing with her nipples with his teeth. As he licked and teased her there, he worked her pants and panties off so he could slide two fingers into her. God, she was wet.

He needed another minute.

Except . . . she hadn't agreed to another minute. She moved against his fingers and twisted so she could tug his pants off. He let her, and then he removed his fingers and positioning himself over her, letting the tip of him push just inside her. She was so hot. So ready.

He pushed the whole way in, letting her heat surround him fully. He had forgotten so much. All the details: the smell of her hair, that look in her eyes, and especially how intense it felt to have sex without a condom. Not that they had a use for one. He was clean, and as they had proven time and time again, there was no risk of pregnancy.

He had also forgotten what it was like to have someone move with him instead of just lying there making him do all the work. Lexi was so flexible she could move with him and still pull him down to kiss her.

He was just about to tell her he was sorry. She had wanted the good sex, but this wasn't going to be good because it was about to be over way too soon. But he felt her legs tighten around him, her breathing picking up against his neck. Yes.

He could do this. He would make it. It would be better than good.

She cried out, one long moan, and then he felt the spasms start.

He pushed harder and faster, and she whimpered as her hands gripped the pillow behind her head.

“God, Ian!” she moaned, and if she said anything else he didn't hear it because his world was shrinking down to one single event.

He held her tightly as he released everything into her and then some. There was nothing left but heavy breathing and a rush he never wanted to end, even though he'd never thought he'd ever feel it again in his life.

He'd just had mind-blowing sex with his wife. Correction: his
ex
-wife.

It felt like hours before he slid out of her and pulled her against his chest so he could hold her. She shifted easily into her old spot.

He kissed her head and trailed his fingers up her back, the way he used to love to do. He could feel her heart pounding against his ribs.

When they calmed, he waited for her to say something. To hear her regret or feel the guilt he knew would return at some point. But she said nothing, and the guilt stayed away.

He wasn't sorry, and from the sound of her soft sigh against his neck, she wasn't either. He smiled up at the ceiling, enjoying the moment until sleep came to take it away.

When he woke, it was morning and he was alone.

Being alone in the mornings was the thing he had hated the most after he moved out. The empty bed had him bawling like a baby every morning for a month.

He worked from home so he never got up before Alexis when they were married. He could hold her until her alarm went off and then get up when she did. Sometimes they would steal a few extra minutes and he would just lie there, listening to her breathe and smelling her hair. If he was really lucky, they would spend those extra minutes having sex, and she would just throw her hair in a clip before rushing out the door.

He loved those mornings. Hair clip mornings.

For a moment he wasn't sure if he'd dreamed having sex with Lexi the night before.

It seemed unbelievable, but her bra on the floor next to his jeans was proof it had happened.

But where was she now?

Did she regret it?

He might die if she did, but what if she wanted to get back together? Would that be worse? He still couldn't give her what she wanted. They would end up at that same wall again, unable to get through.

Knowing he couldn't hide out in his room for the duration of the weekend, he shrugged on his pants and shirt and went to face the music.

H
er heart went into a panic when she heard him come out of his room.

She went to the coffeepot and poured him a cup in his favorite mug.

Why was she so nervous? It was just sex.

Well, sex
she
had initiated. She had basically thrown herself at him like some desperate divorcee.

She
was
a desperate divorcee. Had she really begged? God.

She probably would have run away by now except he had responded. Obviously it wasn't just her. He had to have wanted it, too. Right?

“Morning,” she said as she held out the cup with a smile. She was trying to play it cool. He'd had a girlfriend just a week after the divorce; he must already know how to play it cool.

“Morning.” He looked her over with a smile. She had grabbed one of his shirts to go start breakfast. Her hair was up in a clip. No doubt she looked awful.

He leaned down to kiss her, but she didn't realize his intention. They kind of bumped noses awkwardly. She wasn't sure if they would still be kissing this morning. So much for cool.

She took a breath and kissed him a little more thoroughly.

“Should we talk?” he asked tentatively, with a brow raised.

She couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. Her laugh must have put him at ease because she saw his shoulders relax.

“We can talk if you'd like.”

“What should we talk about?” he asked after taking a sip of his coffee.

“I don't regret anything,” she said openly.

He nodded. “Good. Me neither.”

“Good.” She nodded, too. “That pretty much ends the talking portion.”

He laughed. “Something smells delicious.”

“I have sticky buns in the oven. They'll be ready in about twenty minutes.”

“Excellent. I haven't had good sticky buns since—”

“Since I've had good sex?” she joked.

“If I recall, you had good sex last night, and I haven't had sticky buns or any homemade breakfast for a very long time.”

She thought over how long it had been since she'd made him breakfast. Back before she became obsessed with her temperature and ovulation cycle to the point of forgetting he was even there.

“Meeghan never made you breakfast?” Lexi used to love making him breakfast after a night of really great sex.

“No.” He suddenly seemed uncomfortable. Was he still upset about the breakup?

“How long have you been broken up?” she asked curiously. Had he broken up with her after the Aidan incident?

He let out a sigh. “Do we have to do this? Please don't overanalyze last night into rebound sex. It's not likely I'm rebounding from my girlfriend of six months with my wife of six years.”

“Okay. I didn't mean anything by it. I was just curious. Forget I said anything. I just wasn't sure what this was. Maybe you hadn't had sex in a while, or maybe it was me. I was kind of hoping it was me.” She shrugged, feeling stupid as she checked the sticky buns unnecessarily. It had only been two minutes.

She hopped up on the counter and let her feet dangle against the cabinet doors, looking anywhere but at him. She needed to confess something.

“You know how last night I said it had been a long time since I'd had good sex?”

“Yeah.”

“The truth is I haven't even had
bad
sex,” she admitted. “I went out on a few dates, but they just weren't . . . right. I'm still trying to move on. It's hard. I think I might be comparing them to you. I know it's ridiculous. Roz says I just need to bang somebody and get it over with.” Why couldn't she stop talking?

“Please don't just bang somebody to get it over with,” he said with a frown. “Only guys are stupid enough to think that works.”

“It doesn't?”

“No.”

“Not even after six months?” she asked.

“Not really. You can't have the good sex if you don't have good everything else.”

“Hmm.” She thought that over as he came to stand next to her, pulling her chin up so she would look at him.

“What are you expecting out of last night, Lex?” he asked, his face serious.

“Like I said yesterday, I have a lot of great memories with you.”

“Maybe we could chalk this up to us wanting one more great memory?” he suggested. She smiled and nodded. “And that damn sexy tattoo,” he added, making her smile bigger. So she had been a factor. It hadn't just been sex for the sake of sex. He'd wanted her.

Feeling brave, she pulled the T-shirt she was wearing over her head and tossed it on the floor.

“I think I could use another great memory.” She held up the timer. “You have seventeen minutes. Go.”

He didn't waste any time. He pulled down his pants and moved between her legs, sliding into her full hilt. She gasped as he slammed into her again, making her slip across the counter. He simply grabbed her hips and pulled her back into him.

She held on to his neck and bit at his ear while moaning his name.

When he pulled out of her and checked the timer, she laughed.

Until he opened the cabinet doors under her and used them to prop her feet up before kneeling down in front of her.

“Oh!” She jumped, and one of the doors banged into him. It didn't stop the assault with his tongue as he pulled her closer to the edge of the counter.

He kept at it until she was at a different edge. This one made her cry out loudly as her bones turned to jelly. With only three minutes left on the timer, he stood, plunging into her again. He finished out the remaining time gasping his release. As the timer went off, she fell into her second orgasm.

That was how married people had sex. Multitasking. Although for her, it had kind of been
multiple
multitasking.

On shaky legs, she hopped down and got the sticky buns out of the oven.

Ian slapped her bare bottom playfully as he got the orange juice from the refrigerator and met her at the table for naked breakfast.

After Ian's fourth sticky bun and her third, they each went to their own bathrooms to take showers and get dressed for the day.

She took a little extra time in the shower. As wonderful as her body felt, her heart had concerns.

“I want this,” she said as the water beat down on her. She would figure out everything else later. For now, she would take whatever he offered.

When she came out, Ian was holding the painting that had triggered all the romance the night before.

“It ripped,” he said with a wince as he pointed to a small tear in the corner.

“That's okay. When I see that little tear, I'll always remember what happened after. I'll be able to think about it when I look at the painting.”

“I have a client who restores art. I can have it fixed,” he offered instead. She didn't recognize the tone of his voice. She knew him better than anyone, but she didn't know what he was thinking right then. She knew how much he always tried to fix things. For some strange reason, he always placed the burden of fixing everything on his own shoulders. Now he was doing it with the painting, too.

Or maybe he didn't want her to think about last night when she looked at the painting. She twitched from the pain of that thought. She knew she was on dangerous terrain. This wasn't real. But if she wanted to look back and remember it fondly while looking at that painting, he wasn't going to be able to stop her, even if he had it fixed.

“We're still no strings attached, right?” she said, sounding as casual as possible. Emotions had surely sparked in her last night and again this morning, but she knew they were divorced. She knew he didn't want anything with her. She had agreed to no strings in the heat of the moment, but she was going to stick to that deal. No matter what.

“No strings?”

“I said last night I just wanted good sex, and that's all I wanted, Ian. I'm not expecting anything, if that's what you're thinking. Just this weekend.”

“Whatever happens at the cabin stays at the cabin?” His smile was back.

“For the weekend?” she proposed an addendum.

“Hmm. I think I might take you up on that,” he said with a big grin. “I'll still get your painting fixed, though.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“So what would you like to do?” he asked as he looked around the room.

“I was thinking about going for another hike out to the lake.”

“Do you want to pack a lunch? Because it takes you forever to find your way back.”

“Sure.” He was apparently coming along and she couldn't have been happier.

They worked together to make sandwiches. Ian pulled out a bottle of wine and held it up for her inspection.

“Blush,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin. “Do you have a prob - lem with blush?”

“Not yet.” She grabbed the blanket from the back of the worn sofa.

With their backpack full, they headed out the door toward the trail leading to the lake. They both made sure to avoid the path that went past the downed tree, taking the longer route instead.

The weeds weren't bad yet in April so the trail was clear. When they came across a log blocking the trail, Ian chivalrously helped her over, with a kiss waiting on the other side.

Because kissing appeared to be okay, she took a chance by taking his hand. He squeezed hers in return and smiled down at her as they continued on their way.

They were kissing and holding hands and having sex like honeymooners. Except they were the exact opposite of honeymooners, and this weekend of making memories was going to be just that when it was over. A bunch of memories.

There was no helping the way she felt about Ian. She still loved him very much. She'd known that when she signed the divorce papers, and she knew it now.

When this weekend was over, it would hurt the same as before, but at least she'd have wonderful new memories. And maybe even some closure.

 

This was such a bad idea,
Ian thought for the hundredth time as they exited the trail by the lake. It was a perfect April day. Not too hot, not too chilly. Just sunshine, blue skies, and Lexi's hand in his.

This was their old life. The life he loved and missed. This wasn't their life now, and he had to keep reminding himself it was only for the weekend. Every time Alexis looked up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes and smiled her beautiful smile, he wished he could find a way to make it work. How badly he wanted to go back in time and do things differently.

But this wasn't their life anymore.

Alexis spread out the blanket in a grassy spot that was relatively flat. She kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the blanket as she started to get out the food. He followed her lead.

The sun glinted red and gold in her long brown hair, which twisted around her face in the breeze. Twice she reached up and brushed it out of her eyes, and he wanted to do it himself. But he didn't.

He focused on the wine, finding a stable place for their glasses.

“So do you think you're going to sell it?” Lexi asked as she handed him a sandwich.

“What?”

“The cabin. Are you going to sell it?”

“Oh, right. I guess I haven't decided.” He took a bite of his sandwich and looked out over the lake. Some ducks had come back and were floating around the edge. A male and a female. Ready to start a family. Great. Now he was jealous of water fowl.

“Maybe you could rent it. It would be a great vacation rental property,” she said.

“With all my family's stuff in it? I don't know.” He shook his head, not liking the idea of strangers making their breakfast in the kitchen where he'd just had sex with Lexi.

“Right. I guess that would be weird, to have strangers living in it,” she agreed.

“When the lawyer originally told me, I thought we would just sell it and split the money.”

“I don't want the money, Ian. Really. You were more than fair in giving me the house. I still feel bad about that.”

“Please don't. It was the least I could do. And if we decide to sell this place, you'll get half because Uncle Jimmy wanted you to have half.”

“But I'm not family anymore.”

“Like I said before, you'll always be part of this family.” He held her hand to his lips to kiss the back. “Speaking of which, how is your family?”

She snorted. “You mean my mother?” That was pretty much the extent of her family. No brothers or sisters. She hadn't seen her father since she was a kid. Aside from an aunt and a few cousins, her mother was it. And she wasn't much.

After Lexi had moved to Roanoke with his family, she'd pretty much shut the door on any kind of relationship with her mom. She'd got divorced before he and Lexi were married. Mrs. Grant had come to the wedding as a guest and nothing more.

He hated the woman for not being a better mother to Lexi, but he'd made up for it by encouraging her to be close to his mother, who'd loved her right off the bat. Kelly and Willa had taken to Lexi immediately, too, and they were all thrilled to be sisters.

There was no way he would ever take them away from Lexi now. Not that he could if he wanted to. He joked about it, but he was sure if he pressed them to disown Lexi, he would be the one put out.

“How's your mom doing?”

“I don't know. I haven't talked to her in a while.” He watched her face, waiting to hear why. Certainly Mrs. Grant had said something cruel. How many times had he wanted to take the phone and hang up on her when she'd said something to upset Lexi? It seemed hypocritical now; he knew he'd caused her worse pain than her mother ever could. But still, that sense of protection ran deep.