That Thing You Do (Whispering Bay Romance 1)
“You didn’t guilt me into anything.”
He was telling the truth. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. But if he hadn’t postponed the demolition out of some sense of outdated guilt, then why had he done it?
“Allie, have you ever wondered—”
“Nope, never.”
Geez!
She was such a liar because of course she’d thought about it. She was thinking about it now, for God’s sake. How could she not? She was lying a mere six inches away from him.
But what made the whole thing worse, was that she knew he was thinking about it, too. She wasn’t some naïve eighteen-year-old virgin anymore. She was a thirty-year-old woman and she knew when a man wanted to have sex with her. And it wasn’t just because they were alone and she was seemingly available.
She’d seen the way Tom looked at her when he didn’t think she was watching. The way his voice went husky when she got too close. The hitch in his breath whenever they accidentally touched. It would be so easy to reach over and scratch her twelve-year-itch. She was single. He was single now, too.
It would be the epilogue to a sad story. Sure. There wouldn’t be a happily-ever-after, but both parties would leave with all unresolved business concluded.
The End. No chance for a sequel. Ever.
She was tempted. She really was. But everything inside her screamed that it would be disastrous because, despite the fact that it had been twelve long years, somehow (unbelievably), they were still connected. And not just on a physical level. Yes, there was that, certainly. But if it was only a physical thing then it would be easy to walk away and never think about him again.
She didn’t want to know what Tom Donalan was thinking and she didn’t want him knowing what she was thinking, either. Yet, here they were lying next to each other and they were doing just that. It was like they were having some sort of weird brain sex.
“Stop it,” she said.
“Stop what?”
“You know. That thing you do.”
He didn’t ask her to elaborate and she didn’t volunteer anything more. Instead, she shuffled back to the edge of the mattress. Ghost or no ghost, Allie couldn’t wait for morning to arrive.
In her dream she was cold and it was so real she could actually feel herself shivering. Then something wrapped itself around her and the cold disappeared. She snuggled closer to the warmth. There was a hint of whiskey and something else—something familiar she hadn’t tasted in ages but suddenly craved more than air itself. She opened her mouth, wanting more. A tongue, hot and aggressive, met hers in an urgent kiss. A large hand snaked beneath her T-shirt and cupped her breast, teasing her nipple into a tight bud.
Oh, so it was that kind of dream.
She sighed and shifted her legs, only to encounter something hard and unyielding. It took Allie a few seconds to realize what it was.
A boner—the size of Texas—pressed against her lower abdomen.
If you were going to have a fantasy you might as well go for the gold.
She rubbed herself against the imaginary erection, eliciting a moan. Only the moan wasn’t hers. It came from somewhere close, next to her ear. “Damn, Allie,” whispered a dark voice. A voice that sounded suspiciously like…
Her eyes flew open. No, no, no! This wasn’t happening. She shoved Tom off and rolled out from beneath him.
“Hel-lo! Can you please tell me what that was all about?” She struggled to catch her breath.
Tom sat up and shook his head as if to clear it. He looked as disoriented as Allie felt. “All I know is that I was innocently sleeping when I woke up to find you kissing me.”
“I wasn’t kissing you. You were kissing me!”
He grinned, all lazy and smug looking. “I was kissing you all by myself?”
“Yes, absolutely. I didn’t participate in the least.” It sounded dumb, even to her. She ran a shaky hand through her hair. She probably looked a mess. Not that she should give a rat’s ass what she looked like. Except she did. Dang it. “Okay, so I thought I was dreaming,” she said in her defense.
“You dream about me?”
“Ha! Hardly. You were the one dreaming about me.”