The Closer You Get (Fidelity #1) Page 8

  As she drove home, with his headlights in her rearview mirror, she wondered what the hell she was going to do. She’d never had a man in her house. At least she’d drawn the line for him. Now if he tried something with her, she’d know that Adam was right, that Rye didn’t respect her. But if he didn’t try anything with her, she was going to be constantly wondering if she wasn’t attractive enough for him.

  They arrived at her house way too soon. Rye was out of his truck and at her side by the time she got to the front door. “All this just for you?” he asked, looking around at the house.

  “Yeah, I just bought it last year. I don’t need all this space, but I can afford it, and it sort of makes me feel like a grown-up. The apartments around here aren’t so good.”

  She unlocked the door and let him in. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around. “Nice. You’re a neat freak. About what I expected.”

  “I’m not a neat freak. I just don’t have a lot of stuff.”

  He kicked off his boots and shoved them next to the door. “Give me a tour?”

  She did that one-shoulder shrug again before she could stop herself. He grinned and shook his head.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing. It’s just a cute little twitch; that’s all. Makes you look…insecure.”

  “You find insecurity attractive in a woman?”

  “In you I find it…curious.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that, so she led him around the house. Showed him the bedrooms without letting him go into hers. There were two bedrooms upstairs. Then she showed him the kitchen and dining area, where she fixed up the coffee pot. After that, she led him back to the living room. He plopped down in the middle of the couch and stretched his arms along the back, which left her uncertain as to where she should sit. She opted for one of the armchairs, perching on the edge and twisting her hands in her lap. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

  “Do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

  A quick glance showed he was grinning at her, clearly amused by her discomfort. “I’ll hold out for that coffee.”

  “Oh, yeah. Okay.”

  There was a long, awkward silence, which Rye finally broke with a sharp laugh. “Do you want me to go?”

  “No!” she said, way too fast. “I mean, if you want to…but I don’t mind if you stay.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  She shook her head and looked desperately at him, wishing he could read her mind. Wishing she could read her own mind. She fidgeted with the hem of her dress, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. “Um…do you mind if I go change?”

  He was studying her. “Do I mind? No. It’s your house, honey.”

  The “honey” made her heart quicken again. “Okay. I’ll be right back. Don’t go…I’ll just be a minute.”

  She stood and took two steps before stopping. “I’m not going to put on anything, you know, sexy, or anything like that. Not like on TV when the woman says she’s going to get more comfortable and comes out wearing lingerie. I’m not going to do that.”

  He let out another laugh and shook his head in apparent awe and confusion. “Okay, Cora. You just…put on whatever makes you comfortable.”

  She nodded and hurried off to her room.

  Rye leaned forward and pressed his palms into his eyes. What the hell was the matter with this woman? At work, she owned the world. Get her in a social situation, and she suddenly started acting like she was from an alien planet.

  Why was he even here? Was this it for him? All of this fighting his feelings for the past month and he was caving because she’d put on a short skirt and flirted with him a little? His initial experiences with the woman had proven to him that she wasn’t for him. Yet here he was, a weak, pathetic victim of his hormones.

  It wasn’t so much the dress itself. It was more about what the dress said. It said she wanted to be looked at. She’d done nothing since he’d met her, to suggest she wanted to be looked at. Or touched. Or flirted with. She’d been a closed door. Not even an option.

  Now the door was flung wide open, and he was finding out that he didn’t actually have any self-discipline after all.

  He got up and went to the DVD carousel in the corner next to the entertainment center. He started thumbing through her collection. She had a little bit of everything. The expected chick flicks, of course. And serious dramas. But also some surprising action movies.

  He thought he saw more DVD’s through the glass on the cabinet door at the bottom, but when he opened it, he found a Playstation 3 and a shitload of games. He knelt and started going through them, his grin getting bigger and bigger.

  “Oh.”

  Rye looked up and saw her standing at the edge of the living room in flannel pajama pants and a loose fitting t-shirt. Very clear “stay away” clothes. Except it was too late for that. He wouldn’t be here at all if she wanted him to stay away. And damned if she didn’t look even more inviting in her comfy clothes than she had in that skimpy dress.

  “Um…Adam got that for me,” she said. “For when he comes over and wants to play. I don’t play by myself. Not when I’m alone. I don’t come in here after work and play games by myself.”

  Her eyes were wide and uncertain. She was hugging her middle and staring at him. He stood and slowly moved toward her, mentally willing her to stand still and not run away. She didn’t. Very bravely, she looked up at him. He held up a game disk. “I want to play Gran Turismo with you. And I’m going to kick your ass.”

  Her eyes suddenly lit with humor, though she was still trying not to smile. “I am…awesome…at Gran Turismo. You’re going down.” She snatched the disk from him and skipped over to the console.

  They sat on the floor, side-by-side like a couple of kids, racing with their controllers. She could trash talk with the best of them when she was loosened up. He even got a little body contact now and then when she would lean in to playfully shove him with her elbow. They played for almost an hour before switching to killing zombies. This was a co-op game, so they were on the same team. He wasn’t as good as her at this one, though, and kept getting them killed. Finally, she threw down her controller and glared at him.

  “This game isn’t for everyone,” she said.

  “I’m getting better!” he said.

  “No. You’re not.”

  “Let’s play again. I swear I’ll do better.”

  “You’ll have to stay behind and guard the guns. That’s all you’re fit for. If this were a real zombie apocalypse, we’d throw you to the walkers to buy us time to run away.”

  “Is that so?” he laughed.

  “Yep. That’s so.” She was scooting backward as he poised to tackle her.

  He grabbed her around the waist, took her down to the floor and started tickling her. She squealed and squirmed, thrashing about underneath of him. His leg was wedged between hers. His hand found a bit of skin where her shirt had ridden up. He stopped tickling and watched as her laughter slowly faded. She was breathing hard and, for a moment, smiling in the most natural way. Her eyes sparkled. Her breath was sweet. And those dimples…

  Then all that uncertainty came back. She just watched him, waiting to see what he would do. He shook his head. “You afraid of something, Cora?”

  “No.” But her voice was pitched high, and her pulse was up.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed, then. “Okay. Well, is it all right if I go ahead and kiss you? I did pay for your drinks, after all.”

  She laughed like he hoped she would. Then she nodded. He was pleased with her lack of hesitation.

  He kissed the outlines of her dimples, first one, then the other. Then he figured he would kiss her gently on the lips and leave it at that. Make sure she knew he was a good guy who could respect boundaries. He pressed his lips to hers.

  It shouldn’t have been that good.

  It shouldn’t have felt like his whole life was leading to this point. He sh
ouldn’t be so throbbing hard and insanely full of need. Every second that passed, a little voice somewhere in his mind was telling him to pull back. But it barely registered.

  He moved his lips against hers, kissing. Then widening the kiss slowly so that he could taste her lips. He licked with the tip of his tongue. She was right there with him. He could feel the changes in her body; the slight movements as she involuntarily sought what she wanted and needed. He gripped her waist to keep his hand from going where it shouldn’t.

  When he felt her fingertips on his cheek, he lost it. He shoved his tongue into her mouth and pressed his thigh harder against her, between her legs. He wanted her to writhe against him. He wanted to feel her lose her mind and know that it was because of him. His erection was pressed hard against her hip, and he moved his hips, instinctively seeking relief. He hungrily devoured her mouth while his hand slid beneath her shirt. He expected to encounter fabric and wire, but she wasn’t wearing a bra. He squeezed her breast, shoved his leg harder against her, and moaned.

  Suddenly her movements changed. She was shoving at him, trying to scoot out from under him. With monumental effort, he got on hands and knees so she could get away. She skittered out from under him and scrambled to her feet. “That’s enough,” she said, still breathless and panting.

  Slowly he stood but didn’t approach her. “Okay,” he said.

  “You shouldn’t have done that. I said you could kiss me; that was all.”

  Not for the first time, he wondered why she was so closed, both physically and emotionally. A little making out shouldn’t be a big travesty. “I know. I’m sorry. I thought you were enjoying it.”

  “I said a kiss. That’s all that matters.”

  “Of course. It won’t happen again.”

  “You should leave.” She folded her arms over her chest and stepped to the side, giving him a wide berth to the front door. Making him feel like some monster who’d been trying to rape her.

  “Come on, Cora, I—”

  “You need to get out of my house. Now.”

  He frowned. For the moment, confusion overwhelmed anger. He slid on his boots, opened the door, and turned to look at her. She hadn’t moved. What’s more, she was trembling. “Jesus, Cora, I honest-to-God don’t know what happened. If I hurt you or anything, I’m sorry. I just…I thought we were in the same moment. Please don’t look at me like that. Like you’re afraid of me.”

  She relaxed some. Chewed her bottom lip. “It’s just, Adam says you’re a bad guy. That you don’t treat women right.”

  “Adam says that?”

  She nodded. “He says you use women. That you don’t call them after you sleep with them.”

  Rye felt the buildings of anger and bull-headedness. He was not going to defend his every action to this woman. “If I’m such a bad guy, why’d you invite me over here?”

  There went that shoulder hitch again, which he loved in spite of himself. “I thought maybe he was wrong.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you had your guard up. You really dodged a bullet tonight, boss.” He slammed her door shut and muttered curses out to his truck. Adam was a self-righteous ass. He wanted to go kick his self-righteous ass, too, but Cash and he seemed to have such a good thing going, Rye couldn’t bring himself to mess it up. Still, Adam had no right telling her stuff like that.

  What pissed him off more was that he knew he didn’t have a good track record with women. Some stupid voice in his head was telling him that Cora didn’t really need Adam’s words; she could have observed Rye’s behavior herself. He had no defense. And anyway, what was wrong with just wanting to get laid? Maybe he and Cora would have had a nice time tonight. Maybe they would have enjoyed it and then gone their separate ways, satisfied and smiling. Maybe no one would have gotten hurt.

  He tried not to think about how she was different. How she seemed special. How no one had gotten under his skin like she had. He didn’t want a girlfriend. Didn’t need one. Which meant he probably had no business going after Cora because she deserved a boyfriend. Not just some sleaze who wanted to fuck and forget.

  By the time he got home, he’d talked himself down from fire-ant mad to just generally pissed off. But he knew it was for the best. Hopefully, the damage wasn’t too bad, and he and Cora could just pretend like this hadn’t happened and go back to only having a professional relationship.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WHILE CORA AND Rye were having their ups and downs, Cash found himself at Adam’s apartment, more nervous than he should have been. It was because he’d waited so long. If he’d just fucked the guy the night they’d met, there wouldn’t have been any pressure.

  Adam’s apartment wasn’t as fancy as Cash had expected being that the guy was a lawyer. Then again, he was a lawyer in a small town, so maybe there wasn’t that much money involved.

  After taking the tour, Cash sat on the sofa while Adam got the coffee pot percolating. Cash picked up the remote and turned on the television, flipping channels until he found a baseball game. “Cards are playing,” he said, loud enough that Adam could hear him in the kitchen.

  “Cards?”

  “Yeah. You a fan?”

  Cash was a die-hard Cardinals fan, no matter how frequently they sucked. Adam joined him, handing him a mug of coffee as he sank into the sofa next to him. “I don’t watch much in the line of sports,” Adam said.

  “Great. You can be the wife in this relationship, then.”

  “Ha ha. You know, there’s nothing worse than a gay man still clinging to outdated ideas of gender norms.”

  “There’s nothing worse than people who say ‘there’s nothing worse’ when there’s clearly plenty worse in the world.”

  Adam shook his head. “Touché, smart-ass.”

  Cash sat his coffee mug on the table and then took Adam’s and did the same. He turned to his new friend and soon-to-be lover, caressing his stubbled jaw with the backs of his knuckles. “I’ve enjoyed what we have,” he said.

  Adam swallowed, his expression sobering. “I have too, Cash. I want more.”

  Cash studied him for a long moment and nodded. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Adam’s and sinking into the sweet relief of it. For a brief moment, all of the aching tension he’d been feeling over the past month vanished. It was like the pause in a pendulum, when all of its energy is only potential until it starts falling again, back to the other side.

  And then the kiss transformed, as did the tension. Tension converted to passion and passion would not be put off. The men crushed their lips together, their tongues seeking entrance into each other’s mouths, their bodies seeking the pleasure of mutual friction. Cash was trembling from head to toe. With passion came fear and the two compulsions warred with each other. His body cried out for more of Adam’s, but his mind was screaming for him to slow down.

  As a result, his kiss was frantic. He fisted his hands in Adam’s hair and pulled hard.

  Adam pushed back, pulling his lips free. “Hey, hey, take it easy,” he said.

  Cash buried his lips in Adam’s neck and grabbed his erection through his jeans.

  “Cash, slow it down,” Adam gasped.

  Cash was fumbling with Adam’s jeans. He had to do this now before the fear overtook him. “Now,” he murmured between sucking at Adam’s neck and earlobe.

  “Jesus, Cash, you’re shaking.”

  “We have to do this now,” he said, pulling at Adam, trying to get him to turn over.

  “Whoa. That’s enough. Let’s just take a step back.” The firmness in Adam’s voice was the final decider.

  Cash moved back and shoved his hands into his hair, breathing hard and frantic. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

  “Hey,” Adam said softly. “Come on, Cash. Come here.”

  Cash felt Adam’s arm around his shoulder. He kept his palms dug into his eyes, not wanting to face Adam, not wanting to face the fact that he couldn’t get past the past enough to enjoy being with a good man.

  “Cash, I’m worried. A
re you okay?”

  Cash nodded. “I’m fine. Sorry…just give me a second.”

  “You’re shaking so hard.”

  “I said I’m fine. Just a second.” He took in some deep, calming breaths while Adam rubbed his back. He let himself get lost in the circular motion of Adam’s hand on his back. The repetition soothed him and soon his shaking had calmed.

  “Talk to me,” Adam said softly.

  Cash shook his head. “I don’t feel well. I’m going home.” He stood, but Adam stood with him and took his arm.

  “Cash, I don’t know what’s going on, but talk to me. Stay and talk.”

  Cash looked into his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. That was all fine and good, but it didn’t change anything. “I don’t talk,” Cash said. He took two steps toward the door. This time Adam grabbed his arm and spun him, taking him by the shoulders.

  “Cash, just—”

  Cash shoved him, “Keep your goddamn hands off of me. If I want you to touch me, I’ll fucking let you know!”

  Adam put his hands up in the air in surrender and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I just want you to know that you don’t have to be afraid with me.”

  “I’m not afraid! Do I look like someone who’s afraid? I could kick your ass with one hand tied behind my back, so fuck you!”

  “Okay, you’re being extremely defensive right now—”

  “I have a goddamn headache, okay? I don’t feel well, and I want to go home. Okay?”

  Cash was breathing hard, fighting back tears of shame, anger, and yes, fear. He watched as Adam studied him intently and at last nodded.

  “Just…call me, okay?” Adam said.

  “If I want to I will.”

  “Sure, love. You’re in control.”

  Those were the right words. Cash didn’t know how Adam knew to say them. Maybe it was just luck. But they immediately shut down his anxiety. He nodded and got the hell out of Adam’s apartment.

  The next morning, Cash and Rye found themselves unwashed, unshaven and sprawled on their sofa, staring blankly at the television.