He plunged in deep, she clenched around him, and he came. And came. And came.
When completely spent, he settled on her, enfolding her beneath him. He pressed his face into her neck and breathed in the fragrance that was uniquely hers. Tension drained from her slowly. Her legs relaxed but continued hugging his thighs, only less tightly than moments before. Her fingertips trailed along his back and lower, past his waist. Far past his waist. Her leisurely exploration delayed him going soft inside her.
They stayed like that for a long time.
When he finally separated them, he drew her close and pulled the covers up over them. She nuzzled his chest, breathed his name, and fell instantly, peacefully, to sleep.
Chapter 26
Wednesday, March 12
John came awake and was immediately and keenly aware that he and Beth hadn’t changed positions since they’d fallen asleep. Her head was still on his chest, her hand on his pec, her knees tucked into his lap.
He turned his head and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was damn early, but past time to plunge back into cold reality.
He tugged on a strand of her hair. “Beth?”
“Hmm?”
“We have to get up.”
“I don’t want to.” She snuggled closer to him.
His dick was giving him fits. “This isn’t going to work. We can’t lie here naked without something happening, and we don’t have time for it. There’s a lot to be dealt with today.”
“I don’t want to,” she repeated on a moan. But she turned away from him, worked her way over to the side of the bed, and placed her feet on the floor. He reached across and stroked her back, which she arched and stretched while she sat there clearing the cobwebs.
Once fully awake, she looked at him over her shoulder and smiled shyly. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
The look she gave him would have melted an iceberg in ten seconds; then she left the bed and picked up her two articles of clothing where they’d landed when he’d sent them sailing.
As she opened the door, he said, “Mind letting Mutt out on your way through the main room?”
“I’m naked.”
He chuckled, “I don’t think he’ll mind.”
She went out. He heard her greeting Mutt with an admonishment not to get any fresh ideas, and that caused John to smile.
And the sappiness of that smile brought him up short. God in heaven, what am I doing? He vigorously dry-scrubbed his face, got up, and went into the bathroom. When he looked at himself in the mirror above the sink, gone was the goofy smile.
In its place was grim resignation. The man reflected in the mirror knew that one potent bout of hot sex wasn’t going to change the circumstances.
This isn’t going to work, he’d said to Beth, talking about their cuddling under the covers.
But he could have been referring to their future. Or their lack of one. Her life was a thousand miles away. His was a train wreck, and the wreckage was piling up. And he was too old for her, anyway.
When this was over, however it ended, she would go back to New York, and he would go back to being his old self, the master of not giving a damn.
Resuming a fragmented life with no Beth in it? It was a bleak prospect, and he realized why, and the realization caused him to lean weakly against the sink.
“Bowie, you dumb shit, how did you let this happen to you?”
The epiphany left him feeling depressed. He joined Mutt outside and tossed him a few sticks, but his heart wasn’t in it. Mutt sensed it and lagged before he did. Back inside, he filled Mutt’s food bowl. While his dog chowed down, he made coffee, then called Molly.
Trying to sound upbeat, he wished her a good morning.
She sounded no bouncier than he. “Hi, Dad.”
“Did I wake you up?”
“No. I got up early to work on my art project. It’s due next week.”
“You haven’t told me what it is.”
“It’s a surprise. You’ll get your private showing after I get my grade.”
He could tell she was in the doldrums and guessed they had nothing to do with her art project. “How are things on the home front?”
“They suck. I heard him leaving a while ago, so at least he won’t spoil breakfast. But Mom and I had a knock-down, drag-out fight last night. She barged into my room still angry with me for not eating dinner with them. She called me a spoiled little shit, said, ‘Who do you think you are?’ and asked when I was going to grow up. I told her I would as soon as she did.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”