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It occurred to her that Mike might not be home because he’d worked things out with his wife. But then she realized a more likely scenario—despite her schoolgirl jealousies—was that Chuck was doing poorly. She went to bed feeling a bit ashamed and a lot sore. Very, very sore.

  Aubrey slept like shit and when the morning came, she staggered out of bed in search of coffee. She drank the first cup staring out the window at the place where Mike’s truck was normally parked.

  Chapter Eleven

  That entire day passed with no sight of Mike. Aubrey put on her busted-up Levi’s. The ones that had rips in the ass and along one of the belt loops. She had to wear knickers with them or she’d flash whoever was behind her. She put on an old TSU sweatshirt and found the ugly red knockoff Crocs Laura had bought her for her birthday a few years back. Then she attacked the garden.

  If she was physical with her day it would go faster and she’d stop mooning over some guy she’d only messed around with once. Nice guy or no, it was stupid to be this attached.

  She weeded and picked the last of the Mr. Stripey tomatoes and a few rogue zucchinis that hadn’t shriveled due to the chill. She stripped dead plants, put them in a pile, pulled up stakes and assessed the possibility of doing a late-fall planting. Maybe some root vegetables.

  All the while her eyes kept drifting back to the basement door. The image of herself pressed to the wall, under his hands, under his mouth kept overwhelming her and she felt…hot.

  Stupid.

  Insane, actually.

  She felt damn-near obsessed and that had never happened to her before. She’d enjoyed the men she’d dated over the years. She’d enjoyed the hell out of every lover she’d ever taken to bed. Or who had taken her. But Aubrey could not remember ever being quite so…attached to a person so fast.

  Her back ached and her head kind of hurt and she was actually sweating like some wild beast by the time she was done, but she stood and surveyed her now-stripped garden and her piles of yard waste that she needed to bag.

  But not until after some food. Food was important if she wasn’t going to pass out face first in the box garden and suffocate on mulch.

  Aubrey made a burger from some fresh ground beef. Salt, ketchup, squishy white bread. Nothing fancy, but completely filling. Then she washed her dishes and found the contractor bags in her basement that would hold all her yard debris and the broken stakes and fence pieces.

  After dragging that out, she found a beer in the basement fridge and cracked it open. A squeeze of lime and a chair and she was set to watch the sun lowering in the sky.

  “And still no Mike. Don’t even act like you aren’t waiting for him.”

  Bruce jumped up, front paws on the chair, tail wagging. “I’m not talking to you.”

  He did that half-growl he did when he was talking back.

  “Actually I am talking to you, because you are the only being here with me.”

  She finished the beer, dragged her tired ass up to the shower and stripped while the water heated.

  She stepped in, laughing at the dirt that swirled off her, circled the drain and finally slipped away. “Filthy girl,” she said, meaning the dirt. But the words brought back the images. Those damn images, and she found her own fingers sliding up her wet thighs. Clean now, she parted her nether lips and began to rub her clit in a slow, steady rhythm.

  Aubrey pressed her head to the tile, letting the hot water roll down her shoulders and back. She bent her legs, almost like a plié, and picked up her rhythm.

  His hands on her thighs…his mouth on her pussy…his tongue working her. She paused, shivering despite the heat of the shower and pushed two fingers inside her cunt.

  Aubrey ground the heel of her hand against her clit. Her hips moved up, seeking. Her heartbeat picked up speed. His hands on her thighs. His hands…on her. It was enough, that image, to put her right on the edge in just a few swift seconds.

  When it became too much, being so close and not quite there, she grabbed the showerhead, flipped it to massage and plied just a little deeper. It parted her folds, bared her clitoris and added a stressful but lovely bit of discomfort to the mix.

  Aubrey came with her thighs shaking from the tension and her head pressed back to the wall. Her cries bounced off the ceiling, flew down to her and assaulted her ears.

  * * * * *

  “We have to stop meeting like this.” She said it to her front-porch swing and the throw still bunched up at the far end. Aubrey settled in with a book and a glass of wine. The day had felt slow, but it had been productive. She had a date now with a Laura Lippman novel and a glass of Moscato.

  She’d managed to walk Bruce, a fact that did not fail to please him immensely. A walk with Bruce was more like a social parade. She walked him down the side streets of her neighborhood and every few houses there was usually a cry of “Batman!” and then someone coming to the front walk to visit.

  By the time they’d returned home, he’d had about a dozen different people pat him on the head, two children came out to pet him and he’d been given three biscuits. He was a happy pup. And Aubrey was happy because the sun was down for the day.

  She was equal parts curious and worried for Mike. But instead of focusing on her embarrassing fixation, she decided to act like a grown-up and read a book and drink some wine.

  Despite her thoughts that her front-porch relaxation was just a ruse to wait, she ended up reading half the book while sipping two glasses of wine over several hours. So when she looked up to see a bat swooping low near her front pear tree, she also saw the truck’s headlights pierce the darkness as it turned the corner.

  Her stomach fluttered with emotion and she clutched her book a bit too tightly. Was it him?

  The truck pulled up out front and she heard the parking brake engage. Aubrey, despite her thoughts to do otherwise, stood.

  She stayed wrapped in the throw. Her armor. It wasn’t hard. As he opened the door to climb out, she remembered that just several hours before, she’d touched herself thinking of him. Warmth spread through her despite the dipping temperature.

  In the yellow glare of the truck’s interior light he looked a little thinner. Tired.

  Mike didn’t see her and he started up the front walk with a duffle bag. It finally occurred to her that he’d been spending the night at the hospital. If he was home, that meant Chuck was better or had gone home with his mother. She hoped.

  She almost let him go. Almost let the fear of rejection smother her urge to talk to him. Finally, she swallowed hard just as he was about to take the bottom step of his front porch. Aubrey cleared her throat and managed a tentative, “Hey.”

  Mike stopped, turned her way. He was somewhat visible thanks to the streetlights and Aubrey could only assume she was too. Even standing on her porch steps.

  She was pretty sure he grinned and then a return, “Hey.”

  Aubrey shifted in place, rubbing her thighs together nervously. She realized why that was a bad idea when a fresh spear of lust stabbed her. “Um…can I buy you a wine?”

  “No coffee?” But he was already headed toward her in the dark. Her fingers were tingly, her face a little numb. When was the last time she’d felt so out of whack just because of a guy?

  “Never,” she whispered, answering her own question.

  He cocked his head. “Sorry?”

  Aubrey covered as quickly as she could. “I said, not really. But I can make you some if you want. I figured wine or a beer was more appropriate at this time of night. Or even a cup of herbal t—”

  She was babbling and she stopped herself when he stepped up to meet her. They were face-to-face and she could see the stubble on his face, the tired look in his eyes—but God…the fucking sharp cut of his jaw and the solid, comforting bulk that was Mike Sykes.

  She touched him before she could think better of it. “So what’ll it be?”

  He dropped his duffle and she went rigid with anticipation. Mike wrapped his hands around her upper arms, drawing her in. He kissed her
, his tongue confident and seeking but gentle. Aubrey let herself melt into that kiss. After all, how many fucking fantasies had she had about this over the last few days?

  More than she could count.

  “It’ll be more of this.” His hands found her waist and she stepped a bit closer, praying they didn’t get too wrapped up and take a header off her slate steps onto the walkway below.

  “I can do that,” Aubrey said softly. She took her chance, molding her body to his. Pressing the curves of her body to the straightness of his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and covered them both with the blanket. “I’ve been wanting to do that,” she confessed.

  Under the shield of the blanket, his hands slid up over her rib cage, found her breasts. He teased her nipples through her thermal top. She was braless underneath. It was easy for Mike to pinch her when the twin points hardened under his touch.

  Aubrey gasped and he kissed her quiet.

  “I’ve been fantasizing about doing that for days,” he said, pressing his lip to her ear.

  Aubrey shivered, holding him tightly. Hoping against hope that she wasn’t actually asleep on the swing and dreaming this moment.

  The kiss deepened and the heat between them warmed her. His fingers slid down her sides and this time he cupped her ass, hauled her forward, pulling her against him so she could feel the erection pressed promisingly against the split of her pussy lips. Her lounge pants were well-loved, soft, thin cotton, and they did little to separate her body from his.

  “Didn’t you invite me inside?” he said. Then he ran his teeth along her throat before skating them over her clavicle.

  Her knees felt weak and she gasped, laughing softly at herself. “I did. Would you like to come inside, Mike?”

  They both paused at her inadvertent double entendre.

  He kissed her once more, nipping her lower lip when he drew back. “Yes, Aubrey. And yes. Yes to both meanings of that question.”

  She led him inside.

  He paused just inside the door and Aubrey dropped the blanket that she’d kept tight around her. Not the best outfit for seduction, but his eyes roamed over her well-fitted thermal, her hard nipples pressed to the front, noticing the way it hugged her belly and the top of her hips. Aubrey felt damn near naked and she made a small startled sound when he reached out and ran the tip of his finger over the split of her nether lips. The soft, pliant cotton of her lounge pants did nothing to stop him. She was grateful.

  “I spent a lot of time sleeping sitting up the last two days,” he said softly.

  Her heart broke a little and she whispered, “Chuck—”

  Mike smiled at her. “Is on the mend. Thank you.”

  “Good.”

  He tugged the tie on her pants and it started to succumb to his touch as easily as Aubrey knew she would. But then he stopped. She licked her lips, felt the staggering pound of her heart all the way in her forehead.

  “But like I said, I spent a lot of time sleeping sitting up. And I spent a lot of time dreaming about you. About this.” Mike stepped toward her, closing the meager distance between them. “About where we left off.”

  He brushed his lips across her mouth and when Aubrey parted her lips, he took her mouth in a long, slow kiss again. His hands cupped her ass and he pressed himself to her, rubbing his hard cock against her so that her clit sang with blood and arousal.

  “Where we left off…” she sighed. “That was…you are such a tease, Mr. Sykes.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve been told I’m too easy. You’re the first woman to call me a tease. Of course…” He shook his head and kissed her. It was to silence himself, she thought. Not her.

  “Of course what?” Aubrey gave in. She let her hand travel the fly of his faded Levi’s. She let herself rub along the hard ridge of his erection, knowing it was for her. Because of her. And loving it.

  “Of course, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been in this position with a woman.” He bared her shoulder, skimmed his teeth along that skin until she shivered.

  Aubrey moaned once. But once was enough to make him growl. He took a few big steps, moving her with him. Aubrey found herself pinned against the wall, her hands above her head, her body moving against his instinctively. There wasn’t much fabric on her, but the stuff that was there was irritating her to no end.

  Mike seemed to read her mind. He kissed her roughly, pressing his hard, warm chest to hers. Then he pressed his mouth to her ear. First, he simply licked a hot line from the top of her ear all the way along the curve until he nipped her earlobe. But then he spoke.

  “I want to take all these clothes off you, Aubrey. Is that okay? If I make you naked? So I can have my way with you?”

  Her voice had fled. There was a fun kind of teasing in his voice, but under it was a controlled sincerity that had her pulse jack-rabbiting. Aubrey nodded. It was all she could manage.

  He released her hands and slipped his fingers beneath the hem of her top and she raised her arms without a second thought. Mike pulled it up slowly. So slowly she could feel the cooler air of the room lick along her waist, her rib cage. He paused to let her catch her breath, his pale-blue eyes fixed on her eyes. He’d never looked more serious to her. He’d never looked more handsome.

  When she licked her lips, when she thought her knees would unhinge and she’d sit down on her ass right there just from the anticipation, he pulled the shirt up the rest of the way. Baring her breasts, ruffling her hair.

  The thermal top hit her hardwood floor and she heard Bruce run over, turn around and nest in it. She would have laughed at her dog’s opportunism, except Mike had pulled the drawstring of her pants. As they grew looser, she grew wetter.

  “Mike…hurry,” she said.

  “I have no intention of hurrying.” He tugged the end of her hair and a fresh rush of fluid graced the tops of her thighs. The heather-gray pants dropped and she found herself there, still hugging the living room wall, bare for him.

  Mike took a step back to look at her. His blue eyes were more intense than she’d ever seen them and she noted that they grew a few shades darker when he was turned on. They were now the color of slightly faded denim.

  “You are fucking spectacular.”

  “You said something like that last time,” she practically stammered.

  He swept a piece of hair behind her ear, traced the curve of her lower lip with his thumb. “I said it because I mean it. You are. And you don’t have a clue, do you?”

  She shrugged, then realized a second later it had served to jostle her breasts. Something he had not missed, judging by the set of his jaw. His fingers found her right nipple and he stroked it so gently it barely felt as if she was being touched. Until she relaxed. Then he pinched it hard enough to make her gasp. The gasp was quickly followed by a moan.

  His fingers tickled gently down the center of her belly and she felt the flesh there jump and quiver at his barely there touch. When he reached her mound, she stopped breathing. “Tell me something,” he said. Not touching her any lower. Just keeping his hand there.

  “Tell…tell you what?” she asked, staring at his hand. Willing it to move.

  Her heart felt too big for her body. Her breath too scarce to sustain her.

  “I spent two days fantasizing about you while I was awake. Where we left off. What I wanted to do to you. With you. I spent nights sitting up asleep with a crick in my neck and dreaming about this. Tell me something. Anything.”

  She didn’t let herself pause to consider. “Earlier…I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’ve been waiting for you to come home and—”

  He cocked an eyebrow at that information. She found it both odd and endearing that he thought it unusual that someone would wait for him.

  “And?”

  “And I touched myself. I…got off,” she forced herself to say. “Thinking about you. And what you did to me downstairs. I tried not to think about you but…”

  He’d moved closer, his jaw a tight line, his fingers grabbin
g her hips roughly enough that she hoped they left little pink circles on her skin there. Proof that he had had his hands on her.

  “But?” he asked, but then quickly kissed her.

  Aubrey answered anyway. “But I couldn’t so I had to…you know.”

  “You’ve gotten under my skin pretty quick, Aubrey.”

  “Me?” she laughed. “I feel obsessive when I think about you. I was wondering if I was a little Glenn Close, ya know?”

  “You’re not.” He turned her suddenly. She found herself pressed to the wall, her breasts mashed to the cool painted wood. “There’s just a connection between us,” he said, lips pressed to the nape of her neck so the small hairs along her scalp stood up.

  “Yes,” she said. She pushed her bottom back when he pressed his hard cock to the crack of her ass.

  “I want you to go upstairs,” he said. She heard him unzip his jeans and nearly sobbed with relief and excitement.

  This was going to happen. She was not still asleep and dreaming. He was here and they were alone.

  Finally.

  Chapter Twelve

  She moved up the steps—both supremely aware of him behind her, watching her bare ass, but also trying not to focus on it. As far as asses went, Aubrey figured there could be worse preceding him up the steps.

  She took a left into her bedroom and a sudden moment of worry beat down on her. This was the moment where she expected the Universe to slam a stop to their activities. Maybe toss in a phone call from his ex or flying monkeys or maybe the house would burst into flames…

  Aubrey turned to look at him and he caught the look and said, “Hey, stop worrying.” Then he dropped his jeans, kicked them out in the hall and shut the door. His boxer briefs went down next and Aubrey took him in.

  “I’m not worried,” she said.

  She meant it.

  It was Aubrey who broke the spell. Once Mike took off his flannel and pulled off the t-shirt underneath, they were just standing there…naked. She took a breath and reached out to touch him. Take him in hand. His cock was hard and smooth and warm in her hand. His eyes slammed shut when she gripped him and she let herself revel in that rush of power that always came with undoing a man even for a brief moment. He’d shut his eyes that way—almost helplessly—because her hands were on him. Making him feel good.