Pretty In Pink (7 page)

When Charlie smoothed her hair back
and kissed her, she knew it was all as real as it felt. She kissed him back,
sucking the sweet rich taste of her own juices off his tongue. “Wow,” she said.

His fingers traced along her skin,
outlining a nipple, stroking her breast. Kimber shivered and he chuckled. “Wow,
indeed.”

“I haven’t…well, it’s been a while and
before that it wasn’t much good the last few times. Too much stress over the
way I was being treated and…” She caught herself and trailed off. Kimber rolled
to her side to face him and said, “Ugh, listen to me. You’re not my shrink,
you’re my…um…”

“Neighbor?
Friendly
neighbor?”
he asked.

She snorted and quickly covered her
face. “Oh, god. Sexy. Yes, my friendly, helpful, hot, studly, oh-so-warm-and-soft-all-over
neighbor.” She touched his chest just to feel the hard heat of his skin under
her hand. God he was soft. And God he was hot-temperature wise-and oh, so, so
easy to look at. Gorgeous, like some angel that had plunged into a nice soft
bed to make her wishes come true.

Crap, she was losing it. Angels to
earth and soft skin and waxing poetic over men she couldn’t have?

“Thanks,” he said. She could hear him
smiling. “And hey, I hope I didn’t overstep my neighborly bounds.” His face was
sober with thought and worry. “I don't want to be that guy who barrels in and
takes over…well, I’m just sorry that we…”

Jesus! She sat up fast and threw her
legs over the side.

“Kimber—”

“No, no. You're sorry! Again! Hey, if
you've got regrets, I’ll just go back…in there. I’ll be in the other room and
tomorrow I’ll see what’s up with the house.” She backpedaled, really and truly
not in the mood to be used and then dropped by a man. Not even one as hot and
seemingly nice and interesting as Charlie Brewster. It had been stupid of her
to think he might be a bit different beyond being the only bisexual person she
knew.

Maybe this was why his partner left,
for goodness sake.

“Kimber, you’re not under—”

Something warm and furry moved under
her foot and then a yowl to rival the wind filled the room. Kimber screamed and
flailed as the furry something darted across the room, a barely visible dark
streak flying across the room. “Jesus Christ on a cracker, what was that?”

“Tyra,” he sighed.

“As in the model?” She clutched at her
heart and waited for it to calm down or simply break for good.

“As in the cat, Clarice named her. Now
come over here and sit down for a moment. Just calm down.” He patted the bed
and she thought it over. Finally, she walked forward on little steps and sat.
She’d let him speak. He had saved her more than once tonight, after all. He at
least deserved that.

“I didn’t mean I wished it hadn't
happened. I was worried that I took advantage. Or came on too strong or made
you anything other than…happy. It’s been a rough year. I’m having a hard time
reading signals and knowing what to do. I always feel like I’m stepping on
myself, or someone else. Which is worse.”

“I know that feeling,” Kimber
admitted.

“Now will you please curl up with me here
and keep me warm? We have quite a few more hours until sunrise and I sure could
do with the soft feel of you and that cute little whistle snore thing you do.”

“What? I do not snore,” she gasped.

He laughed and she swatted at him even
as she curled her feet under the comforter and snuggled down. “It’s cute,” he
said and tugged her in tight.

“Cute my ass,” Kimber groused.

“That too.”

He started to breathe deeply and
Kimber closed her eyes to listen to the peaceful sound.

* * * *

This time she instigated it. She
turned, unable to sleep and he moved against her. Reflexively pressing the
length of his body to hers for warmth. Kimber didn’t need much provocation. She
was so attracted to Charlie it bordered on absurd. When he was face to face
with her, it scrambled her thoughts. When he touched her, she felt like she
would climb out of her skin, or maybe into his.

She took him in hand, running the tip
of her thumb over the head of his cock. At first his breath caught and he
mumbled lowly. His head turned to one side and then the other and he sighed.
Kimber smiled. Working up a man like Charlie infused her with power, made her
feel sexy and innately female.

Kimber squeezed gently, stroking her
loose fist along his silken length. His hips pushed up involuntarily and his
eyelids fluttered. His face awash in neon green from the glowing digital
numbers on the alarm clock. “Kimber?”

“Right here,” she said. She pushed the
covers back, shushing him when he started to protest. The pajama pants gave her
no protest as she yanked them lower so that his cock sprang free. “I’m right
here.”

“Wha—” But that was as far as he got
when she stuck out her tongue and licked him. Then she touched the tip to his
fresh hard-on. “Oh, jeeze,” he moaned.

“Exactly.” She sucked him in, the
smell of their coupling filling her head. The whole room had the heady perfume
of Charlie’s scent and the smell of sex. “Oh, jeeze, I can’t sleep, Charlie,”
she whispered. She kissed his inner thigh and a small muscle there jumped under
her lips.

“That's a problem,” he said, his big
hands settling in her hair, stroking the bed-knotted locks. He brushed his
fingertips over her forehead and she shivered. “Will this help you?”

She could hear the smile in his voice
with her eyes closed, and it made her smile, too. “Maybe.”

“Always glad to help a stunning
woman,” he said, but then his voice failed him as Kimber pressed low, taking
him in deep, showing him how much she liked doing this to him. Her fingers ran
along his balls and the insides of his legs. She walked her fingertips along
his flanks and he chuckled in the dark.

“Thank you for calling me stunning,
but pretty will do.” Kimber shucked her pj’s and climbed on top of Charlie. She
could barely make out the expression in his eyes in the near dark. Her breasts
pressed to his chest and the warmth of his skin heated her more. She settled
her legs on either side of his hips, the wet slit of her pussy resting along the
hard ridge of Charlie’s cock. “I want you in me, Charlie. Somehow that makes
the caving in fear and the scary, wind sounds not so bad. You make me feel…”

She caught herself and bit her lip.
What a stupid thing to say, she thought. It was too late, though, Charlie had
heard her and he wanted her to finish that thought. He caught her wrists up and
tugged gently. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said. She wriggled over
is cock until his hands went lax and she was able to tug them free.

“Tell me, please. Kimber…”

Distraction is an amazing tool, Kimber
knew. She rubbed the head of him against the wetness of her pussy. Lowered
herself so that only the head of his erection slipped into her cunt. He held
his breath. Under her hand, his heart jumped like something small and wild.
“Later,” she assured him, though she had no plans to ever admit that aloud.

“Promise me?”

She slid down a bit lower, taking more
of his shaft into the slippery heat of her body and his hands came up, stroking
her sides so that her skin felt cool and her nipples pebbled under his touch.
“I promise.”

Charlie’s hands found her hips and he
took over. Clamping down on her skin, pulling her low as his own hips slammed
up with each powerful thrust, seating him deep inside of her so that it stole
her breath. “Oh—good,” she sighed.

“See who’s turn it is to say oh,” he
laughed, but he held her tight and drove up into her until she hung her head,
the tips of her hair swaying against his belly. Her hands pressed his warm skin
and now the beat of his heart was like a drum, slamming up under her hand in a
powerful rhythm. Kimber was surprised to feel the orgasm come rushing at her so
fast. A warm rippling sensation of pleasure and need. “Charlie,” she said.

His hands bit into her flanks, her
bottom. He pinched her a little and the pink ribbon of her orgasm wound out a
little more. Unfurling low in her pelvis so that she felt a flush rush to her
face, felt her pulse arc like a spark of electricity. “Yes, ma’am. I think you
have something to tell me,” he said.

“I can’t—”

Charlie held her still and at his
mercy. And then he stopped moving. “You can.”

“Charlie!”

“Hurry,” he said softly.

“Charlie,” she begged without begging.

His fingers pressed into her skin but
he refused to move and when she tried to, he stilled her in his powerful grip.
He wasn't into her. Certainly not into her
the way
she was into him. His
playing field was way bigger and she was a small player in a big game. He
clearly hadn't gotten over…

“Kimber,” he warned.

She took a big breath and said it, “I
was just going to say that you make me feel safe. That’s all. It’s stupid and
silly and I know it makes me sound like a—oh.”

Charlie was moving up and deep now.
Thrusting harder than before. Holding her tighter than before. Fucking her so
that her toes curled and her head fell back, the tips of her hair brushed her
waist, his fingers plucking at her nipples so she fell right back into another
orgasm. Softer but longer, less intense but sweeter. She let herself relish the
sound of his release. That rough, deep growl of a man lost in his own
satisfaction. Kimber gave into it and when Charlie pulled her in close to him
and kissed her, she let him. When he covered her with the blanket and told her
to sleep, she did.

* * * *

“It was a total fluke,” Kimber said.
Sarah stopped dead in her tracks, coffee cup in hand. She stared. It was that
stare. “What?” Kimber said.

“How in the world was crawling into
bed with that handsome, studly man a fluke?”

“It just was. I was distraught and my
roof had caved in and he was so hot and yummy and nice.” Kimber poured her own
coffee and turned to the window. The flamingo’s reindeer antlers flapped in the
wind jovially. Clarice had put a red nose on it, too. She had a sudden, fast urge
to stomp back over to Charlie’s house and crawl back into bed with him. It had
been very difficult to pull herself out of bed to sneak away.

“I agree with all of that. He is all
those things and a bag of chips.”

“And bi,” Kimber reminded her.

“I’m still not buying it,” Sarah said.
She sipped her coffee and joined her best friend in staring at the crazy pink
lawn ornament.

“He even told me his partner had left
and wanted to come back.” Kimber pressed her forehead to the cold glass.

“He’s a cop for Christ sake! Maybe he
means that kind of partner.” Sarah was pissed now, Kimber could feel the low
level annoyance like heat baking off a radiator.

She laughed. “Maybe, but why do I keep
thinking the other way then?”

“Because you want to! Because Charlie
Brewster, your next door neighbor, hunky, do-gooder, extraordinaire is suddenly
safe as a little fuzzy bunny if you pin that label on him. He loses his power
to possibly hurt you. He cannot bang you and leave you. He cannot make you fall
for him and then dump you. He can forever and ever be the guy who lives next
door to you and you banged once. Because he was nice.”

Kimber stared at her. “Would you like
a cigar to go with your judgment, Dr. Freud?”

“Hey, sometimes a cigar is just a
cigar, sweetheart.”

“Be quiet.”

“So what did he say when you left him
all buff and hard and raring to go?” Sarah asked.

“Um…”

“Um what?”

“I…see, I didn’t quite…”

“
Kimber
!
”

“He was still asleep when I left!” she
blurted.

“Oh, my god. The walk of shame times
ten.”

“What?”

“Walking home in your clothes the next
morning after a hookup. But sneaking out to boot?”

“I walked home in his clothes. Mine
were all wet and whatnot.”

“Jesus. He’s a nice guy. And now you
have
made it all awkward and stuff. Now he’s going to wake up to…to
what
?”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed and she turned on Kimber.

“Jeeze, lighten up. You look like
something from The Exorcist.”

“How did he wake up?”

“I left him a nice
numph
,”
Kimber mumbled.

“What?”

“I left him a note. A note! I left him
a nice note and thanked him for rescuing me and for putting me up and for…his
time.”

“His time?
His time?
Did he
conduct an interview? Jesus, Kimber, you need to march over there and pray he
hasn’t woken up and read your note. Nice or not.”

“I can’t.”

Sarah grabbed her and turned her
forcibly toward the door. Kimber had already showered and changed into a red
hooded sweater and some faded jeans. They were supposed to be going over logos
for their business today. Instead, Sarah was barking at her and now, marching
her to the front door like a bad dog. “You can and you will. You will pray he’s
not up yet. You will destroy the note—hell, eat it if you have to—and you will
talk to this very nice,
straight, I am telling you, straight
man like a
grown up. Got it?”