Dearest Series Boxed Set (69 page)

T
ilting my head back
, I let the water pelt my skin. Before I moved in, I had the shower redone with four ceiling shower heads, so it’s like a rainforest in here. But I need it. After practice when I can barely move, I crawl in here and my muscles can find a little reprieve.

But tonight my body isn’t what needs help.

Breathing in the steam, I close my eyes and try to figure out what just happened. I know I’ve been telling myself this is casual, that we’re just friends—really good friends—but my relationship with Maddie feels anything but casual right now.

Christ, the way she looked at me with tears trailing down her pale cheeks, I thought my heart was going to rip out of my chest. Usually, Maddie is fierce, tough. It’s one of the things I love about her.

Not that I love her.

Well, I obviously care about her. A lot. Probably more than I should at this point, but I admire the hell out of her. The way she gave herself over to covering stories that make a difference instead of inconsequential football games. She’s more than just a beautiful girl with an awesome laugh. More than a sexy woman with a great personality. She’s just… more.

It’s a little bittersweet to think about how things could have been different.

She was one of the only girls to ever turn me down in high school. At least that was how I thought about it then. I figured she had blown me off, and now I feel like a giant douchebag.

Fuck, I was full of myself. The girl lost her dad that weekend. Of course she wouldn’t have thought twice about some idiot jock.

And having so much unresolved shit with my own father makes me feel like a bigger dickwad. I know I need to call Mason and sort through our shit, but the very thought sends a wave of exhaustion through my bones.

I rest my palm on the tile and breathe in the steam and try to clear my head. The click of the door handle startles me, and I turn to see Maddie standing in front of my open shower.

“I’m cold too.” Her wide blue eyes are red, and her cheeks are flushed, but she’s still a fucking vision. She bites her lower lip, something I’ve come to understand is a sign of her nerves. Which is funny because she never does it when she’s on air. She tilts her head, an uncertain look in her eye. “Can I join you?”

The expression on her face does me in, and even though the smart part of me says we should get some space from each other, that this has gotten too intense too fast, a bigger part of me wants that closeness, and I want it with her.

We haven’t slept together all week, and my fist is getting old fast. But when she came over last weekend and made me dinner, I knew our rules had changed. Because I wanted to get to know her better, and now that I do, I don’t think I could stop our trajectory even if I wanted to.

I nod, and a beat passes before she shakes out her dark mane and loose waves fall around her face. It’s like she’s moving in slow motion, my anticipation growing as she reaches down for the hem of her t-shirt and pulls it over her head. A minute later, she’s bare before me, shivering in the cold.

Her vulnerable expression tugs at something in my chest, and it’s almost overwhelming.

“C'mere here, babe.”

She steps in, and water sluices over her pale skin, down her shoulders and across those lush breasts. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, and I catch my breath as her lips part, everything losing focus but that beautiful face.

When I am old and gray, I want to remember this moment and the girl before me. I’m not a religious man, but if I believed in angels and signs, I’d be tempted to think the vision before me is beatific.

Her sky-blue eyes open and search my face, and it’s this moment that makes me fear she’ll find me wanting. But she smiles, and it’s unguarded, and it digs into the part of me that I swore I’d never open to another woman again.

She seeks my embrace, and my arms wrap around her and fit her soft body to mine. My lips rest on her hair, her cheek pressed to my chest.

I’m fighting this hard-on, but I can’t help it. She’s curvy in all the right places and wet. Her plump breasts are pushing against me, and she’s pressing her lips to my neck, which only sends the blood rushing to my dick. And before I know it, everything aches, and my fingers itch to yank on her hair while I sink into her.

I expect her to push me away for being an insensitive asshole, so when she presses her hips harder into me, I’m unreasonably elated. So I let my hands roam her back, drifting against her wet skin, and when I tug her closer, my thumbs drag against the sides of her breasts and her nipples pebble against me.

Maddie’s head tilts back, her lips seeking mine, and my hand grips her hair. She moans into my kiss, opening herself, stroking her tongue against mine.

Her taste is so sweet, it makes the ache worse. And then she tilts my dick between her legs and squeezes her thighs as she slides across me, back and forth, slick and hot, her bare skin like satin.

“Fuck, Maddie. You feel good.” I grab her ass to control her movements and revel in the little panting sounds she makes. “I’ve missed you this week.”

She looks up, blue eyes dark, her pupils wide, and with a shy smile says, “You’ve seen me.”

I shake my head before I nibble on her plump bottom lip. “That’s not what I mean.”

She swallows as I kiss down her neck and palm her full breasts that are slick with water. Her back arches into me while she continues her dirty slide on my cock, the one that makes me want to throw her down on the tile and fuck her hard.

But then she grabs my face to kiss me, and she stares into my eyes while she sucks my tongue in a way that makes me a little insane with lust. I’m about to hoist her into my arms when she falls to her knees and takes me into her mouth.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I want to say it’s her hot, wet tongue that unravels something inside me, but it’s the expression in her eyes as she watches me that has my chest expanding in new and uncertain ways.

Her lips drag over the length of me before her tongue takes long, slow licks at my head. I tangle my fingers through her long hair, and she leans sideways into my palm. Closing her eyes, she takes me deep, and I could come right here, but this isn’t what I want. What I need. What I think she needs.

“Maddie.” Her name rushes from my lips. “Need to fuck you, babe. Hard.”

She nods, and I haul her up and spin her around, placing her hands against the tile.

Condoms. I need condoms. The asshole in me wants her bare, something I’ve never considered before, but the bigger head in me prevails, and I step away before I do something stupid. I remind myself that wearing condoms was one of her conditions when we first started hooking up, and right now when she's vulnerable is not the time I want to ask her to reconsider.

I kiss her neck and delight when she shivers. “Be right back. Don’t move.”

My feet trail water across the bathroom floor, but thankfully I find what I need quickly. When I turn back, I find Maddie peering at me over her shoulder, a sultry smile tugging on her lips as she watches me grip myself to roll on the condom. The appraisal in her eyes makes me harder, so I let her watch as I stroke myself. But I’m selfish, standing here, jerking off so I can see her reaction.

Her mouth parts and her eyes widen as my hand moves down my cock, and she’s standing there with her hands up, ass out, like she’s about to get frisked. Fuck, yes.

Steam rises all around her while her breasts heave, and wet tendrils trail down her porcelain skin. Breathtaking. She’s just breathtaking.

Some Neanderthal urge to toss her over my shoulder and lock her in my room forever takes residence in my chest. This girl. God, she just does it for me in a way no one has before.

Suddenly, the idea of this being casual is painful. Because there’s no way in hell I’m letting go of Maddie.

I make quick work of the condom and stalk back toward her. Gripping her hips, I tug her ass toward me, and she arches. Christ. I want her.

My hands grip her breasts while she drags herself against my dick. She’s tall for a girl, but she’s the perfect size for me.

“Don’t drop your hands, Wildcat,” I whisper in her ear. A shuddering breath leaves her, and I pinch her taut nipple between my fingers. She arches more, and I thrust along the cleft of her ass, which only makes her pant. Damn, I love that sound.

I reach down, dragging my fingers between her legs. A groan rumbles in my chest when I feel how wet she is, how swollen and ready, and I push two fingers into her.

“Daren. Yes.”

Fuck, I love when she says my name.

“What do you need, baby?”

“Y… You. I need you. Inside me. Now.”

She’s panting and pushing against my hand, and my dick is angry from not having a turn, but that’s too bad because I need my mouth on her first.

I kneel behind her and take a long lick up her swollen slit.

She gasps and bucks backward. “Fuck, Daren. Fuck.”

That’s all the encouragement I need, and I rub her clit with my thumb as I caress her slick folds. But it’s when I lick farther up against her tight rim that she screams and falls apart, her swollen nub throbbing against my hand.
Interesting.
I file that away for future reference as I stand.

Keeping the pressure with my hand, I stand and nudge my cock into her snug pussy, and I’m rewarded by her frantic thrashing as she presses back into me and bucks.

Goddamn, she’s so tight. I thrust harder, pushing to the hilt, and she’s screaming, “Yes!”

Within minutes, she’s coming on me again, pulsing hard, and I’m swelling into her.

Then my mouth finds that silky expanse between her neck and shoulder, and I bite and suck because I need more of her. All of her.

She stills, and I pause to feel the race of her pulse against my tongue, appreciating how my heart is beating in the same rapid-fire rhythm.

“Baby,” I whisper against her ear, and she turns to kiss me. I tilt my hips and drag against her, and she moans.

Not to be outdone, my little wildcat reaches down and wraps her hand around the base of my cock as I continue to push into her, and I am done.

Tugging her hips up, I damn near lift her feet off the ground when I come with a shout because she’s the best thing I have ever felt.

She’s gripping the shower rail with one hand and laughing at how carried away I’ve gotten. We’re both gasping and out of breath and somehow sweaty in a shower.

Eventually, I set her on her feet and gently ease out of her before I turn her around in my arms. “That was… wow.”

The smile on her face makes my heart beat just a little faster. She nods slowly, a shy expression on her face as she glances down. “I could get used to that wow.”

When she looks up, I stare into those bright blue eyes, feeling a little lost and a little found, confused as fuck and like I’m staring at my answer. And then I tell her in all honesty, “I could too.” Because no matter what, I’m not letting go.

T
his has to be a mistake
.
A tall bouquet of lavender roses takes up half the reception desk.

“Are you sure?” I ask Susan, the secretary, who will be retiring next month. I lean over and smell a bloom. Wowzers, they smell great. So sweet, almost fruity.

Susan raises an eyebrow. “Someone is getting a little Hammer time.” She giggles, and I wrinkle my nose.
Hammer time?

No way will I even hint at my sex life while at work, so I school my features.

She waggles her eyebrows at me. “The courier said it was for Madeline McDermott. That would be you. And this wasn’t cheap. It’s Sunday. No one delivers on Sunday.”

I feign indifference and thank her for paging me before heading back to my cubicle.

The arrangement is heavy, and I have to wrap both arms around the glass vase. I’m a little afraid I’m going to trip in these heels and land in a swan dive.

When I’m back at my desk, all I can do is stare at the bouquet.

Daren did not just send two dozen roses to my job. He’d never. Would he? For something that’s casual?

A pang in my chest aches as I think about what that means.

I’ve been freaking out all morning over what I told him last night. It just poured out of me. The poor man probably didn’t know what to do with crazy Maddie and her big mouth. Because “casual” does not mean detailing how your dad died before you went into a tailspin. How it led you to change the whole direction of your life.

Of course Daren was sweet. He’s always sweet. He was freaking Prince Charming, consoling me while I sobbed all over him. Well, before I pounced on him in the shower. And then he became one of those guys in Sheri’s dirty books, which I’m thinking I need to start reading.

I bury my head in my hand, still not quite believing I threw myself at him like that. But my jaw still aches, a reminder of exactly how far I went. Jeez.

After unloading that story, I wanted to be close to him. It was like I was addicted to him, to how safe he made me feel.

And I am not the kind of girl who throws herself at men, but that’s what I did last night.

When I snuck out of his bed at four thirty this morning, he reached for me and told me he’d miss me, and I felt like a lightning bug, buzzing and alive with hunger for him.

But by the time I got to work, though, the excitement had worn off. Because men say all kinds of things in the middle of the night when a girl is naked.

My palm presses into my stomach to quell my nerves.

“Open the card, Maddie. Stop being a freak,” I whisper to myself.

The card, like the bouquet, is exquisite and written on a thick cream card stock.
For the girl with the purple streak in her hair. I owe her a date. xo

“Damn, that’s kind of awesome,” Nicole says over my shoulder, making me jump.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me.” My heart bangs away under my palm where I clutch my chest.

Thank God Daren didn’t sign that card. Because, holy crap, he sent me flowers! That giddy feeling I’ve been fighting all day comes flooding back, and I can’t help the smile that lifts my lips.

Turning my back to Nicole so she can’t see my stupid grin, I take a deep breath and try to calm down. I’m not sure how much Nicole saw, and I don’t bother to ask when I tuck the card away and try to focus on my mile-long to-do list. But it’s hard.

Daren sent me flowers. A whole freaking field of flowers!

The teenage Maddie who secretly swooned over him during our first interview is doing a cartwheel and spirit fingers.

I shouldn’t be this excited. I need to have realistic expectations. He’s an NFL player for Christ’s sake.
Calm down, Maddie.

And shit. I'm. At. Work. Part of me wants to die from happiness while the other half is considering hiding the bouquet behind the recycling bin.

“You’re really not going to tell me who they’re from?” Nicole huffs.

“Nope.”

My heart thunders in my chest.
Please go away, Nicole.
I really don't want her blabbing to the office.

Leaning forward to smell the bouquet again, she whisper-yells, “Is that a hickey?” as she points at me.

My hand rushes to cover my neck, and she busts out laughing.

“Nah, just kidding. But clearly you’re sexing up someone who
could
give you a hickey. And really, instead of that scowl on your face, you should be thanking me, because if I had gotten that gig interviewing him, maybe he’d be sending
me
roses right now.” Her eyebrows tilt up before she starts whistling the NFL theme.

She never says his name. She doesn’t need to. But the look in her eyes says it all.

My heart is beating fast and sweat builds on my neck. Damn it. I hope no one heard her comment. I’m so pissed that I fell for her dumb “look at that hickey” tactic, I’m not sure where to begin, but we’re interrupted when Brad clears his throat.

“Hey, Maddie.” His jaw is tight as he hovers in the doorway.

I return the greeting as I try to cool off, unsure why he’s shooting daggers at me with his eyes. Realizing I’m still clutching my throat, I lower my hand. “Hey, Brad. Did I forget to email you? I thought I submitted the paperwork you requested for the system upgrade.”

He scratches the back of his head and shakes his head. “No, I thought you might need… That you might want… Actually, never mind. You’re right. You turned everything in.”

Turning on his heel, he disappears around the partition.

Weird.

“Looks like your fanboy is jealous,” Nicole says, motioning toward my flowers.

I can’t help frowning. “What? No way. We don’t have that kind of relationship. We’re friends.” While he might have asked me out when I first started this job, from all of our interactions since then, I thought he’s been okay just being friends.

She shrugs. “Whatever. All I’m saying is he could give a shit about how many times my laptop freezes. He only ever asks you.”

Huh. “Well, we’ve chatted a few times, and we’ve had coffee once or twice on our lunch breaks. Maybe he’s just having a bad day.”

“Or maybe he’s lamenting the day little Maddie got herself a boyfriend.”

She swivels back to her desk, and butterflies take flight in my stomach.
Boyfriend
. Is that what Daren is?

I try all day to keep that smile to a minimum, but it’s parked on my face like a Broadway billboard.