Happily Even After Page 10

  “Type Bs simply…” Dean tilted his head to the side. “Hate you.”

  “I think the type Bs are the ones who are the most jealous.”

  Dean laughed, unable to help himself. “Trace, I can assure you. You don’t have anything I want. Never have. Never will.”

  “Never say never, Dean.”

  “Never,” Dean said emphatically.

  Trace watched him with a smug look in his eyes. “We’ll have to put that to the test sometime.”

  “Wonderful,” Dean said drily. “I can’t wait. Oh wait, yes, I can.” Bypassing the other man Dean left the break room and headed back to his office. His assistant, Vivian, was on the phone, but the second he walked to her desk she told the caller to hold and moved the phone down a bit and covered the receiver. “Creigh called. She said it wasn’t anything urgent, but when you had the time to call her back.”

  “Thank you,” Dean said, a bit amazed. Creigh never called him at work unless there was a problem, and even though she said there was no rush, he couldn’t help but worry. After hurrying into his office, he shut the door firmly behind himself, then made his way over to the phone on the desk.

  Dean didn’t even bother to sit. Instead he dialed her cell number from memory and prayed everything was okay. It only took a few rings before she picked up, but by then he’d worked himself into a fine state. “What’s wrong?” he barked the second she answered.

  “Dean?”

  “Yes. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine.” Her voice sounded as calm and as stress free as a warm summer day, instantly putting him at ease.

  Letting out a deep breath, he sat in his chair and said a quick prayer of thanks. “I was worried about you. That maybe something had happened today.”

  “No, everything is fine. I…uh…wanted to know if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. That is…if you don’t have any other plans.”

  “Other plans?” He chuckled lightly. “Sweetie, you and the kids are my only plans. Ever.”

  “Good. Would you like to come over for dinner?”

  “I’d love to.” If anyone would have told Dean six months ago Creigh would be inviting him to break bread with her and the kids, he would have called them a liar and probably punched them in the head for getting his hopes up. But these days, things were going so well, he didn’t know what do. Dean was so afraid of fucking it up again that he was going beyond the call of duty to make sure he did everything right. “What time would you like me to come?”

  “Is six too late?”

  “Not at all.” She could have said now, and he would have just walked out the office and made some bogus excuse. Truth be told, though, he was happy he had some time to go home and shower before he went to see her. Showers were the only thing saving his mind the last two months. Well, not the showers, per se, but the jerking off he did while in there to prepare himself for being face-to-face with the woman he wanted more than his next breath.

  Masturbation wasn’t keeping the beast down; it was just appeasing it a bit and helping Dean with his quest to show Creigh they could be about more than sex. “Yeah, six is good. Gives me time to clean up before I get there. Do you want me to bring something?”

  “Just you.”

  “I can do that.” Dean paused for a second, then lowered his voice. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” She sounded shy, but she’d said it, and that was all that mattered to him.

  Chapter Seven

  Creigh took one look in the mirrored closet doors at her reflection and gave a halfhearted smile. The black-and-white floral strapless shirt she wore together with the jean skirt that fell several inches above her knees and the black wedge sandals wasn’t exactly a cock-hardening negligee, but it would have to do. There was only so much sexy she could bring with a basketball-sized late-night snacker growing in her womb. She could only hope it was enough to garner Dean’s attention.

  She needed to get laid and in the worst way possible. As Dean had predicted, her Duracell lover was not holding up to his end of the bargain. Maybe she should have went with Energizer, the lover that would keep going and going, because what she was working with now in her California Exotics Clitorific vibrator didn’t seem all that clitorific these days. Sure, she was coming, but her orgasm in no way matched the intensity of what she experienced in Dean’s arms.

  Just thinking about their brief encounter two months ago gave her the tingles all over. She could only hope tonight ended on a similar note. Lord knew she needed it. Creigh realized things were bad when she began eyeing the arms of the couch as a potential outlets for her pent-up desires. Before she could dwell too much on her out-of-control libido, the doorbell rang, ending her musings. Startled, Creigh glanced over to her nightstand and noticed the time. It was a few minutes before six.

  He was early.

  Creigh turned her attention back to the mirror and gave herself a quick once-over, then took a deep breath. Ready to take on the world, she smiled encouragingly at herself, then hurried from her room to the front door.

  “Think sex. Think sex.” She whispered the mantra to herself as she unlocked the door, then pulled it open. Portraying more courage than she felt, Creigh placed her hand on her hip and smiled invitingly. She pushed the security door open and stepped into view.

  “Oh…wow…” Dean’s widened eyes spoke volumes as his gaze ran like a lover’s caress slowly over her body, taking everything in from her bone-straight hair, parted down the middle, to the plush curves of the top of her breasts to her French-pedicured toes. Dean took his time drinking her in, and when he finally raised his gaze back to hers, his eyes were filled with an unmistakable heat so intense it took her breath away. “You look…beautiful.”

  His frank approval sent her ego soaring and brought the long-buried seductress out of her. “Thank you.” Creigh stepped back to allow him to come in.

  With his gaze still running rampant over her, he shut the door. “Did I misunderstand? Are we going out?”

  “Why? Would you have changed into your good jeans?” she teased, giving his casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt a quick perusal. His clothing wasn’t fancy, but as usual, Dean looked damn good.

  “I might have put on a belt or something.”

  Creigh laughed softly. “You needn’t get fancy. We’re staying in.”

  A slow, sexy smile spread across his sensual lips. “Lucky me.”

  Creigh felt his words to her core, and it made her tremble. It was just something about the way he said it that made her feel like the lucky one. Fuck yeah, she was getting laid tonight, even if it meant she had to push him down and ride him like a bucking bull to accomplish it. Trying to get her head back on track, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “A beer if you have it.”

  “Of course.” At least these days. Since he’d been coming by more often, Creigh had slipped back into the habit of picking up a six-pack when she went to the store. She knew he enjoyed a good cold one every now and then, and it pleased her to have them there for him. It was the small things that mattered, and she hoped he saw her actions for what they were—Creigh trying to make him feel more at home. In hopes that maybe some day soon, he’d start thinking it was his home again. “I’ll go get you a bottle. You can wait in the living room if you like.”

  “You don’t have to wait on me. I can grab it.”

  “Dean.” She smiled indulgently. “It’s a beer. I think I can handle it.” With a roll of her eyes, she turned and headed toward the kitchen.

  “Fine,” he said from behind her. “I’m being overprotective. Message received.”

  Grinning, Creigh glanced over her shoulder to find Dean following her into the kitchen, his gaze glued to her rear. For all his faults, he was good for her self-esteem. Now if only she could figure out why he was keeping her at arm’s length. It was becoming increasingly obvious he didn’t find her newly expanding waistline repulsive. So
why was he holding back?

  Creigh pondered that question on her way to the kitchen. The scent of the pot roast cooking in the oven hit her the second she entered the overly warm Tuscan-inspired room. If she would have thought of this wonderful plan this morning, she would have put the meat in her Crock-Pot before she went to work and saved herself the added heat, but since Creigh planned for them to spend the majority of the time in the cool bedroom, she wasn’t overly concerned with it.

  Before grabbing the beer, she checked on dinner. A blast of heat struck her in the face when she opened the wall oven, as did the delicious aroma of the browning meat and potatoes.

  “Mmm, pot roast,” Dean murmured from behind her. “My favorite.”

  “I know,” she said with a smile, as she closed the door. “It just needs a little bit longer.” Like an hour or so longer, and she knew just how they could spend that time. After adjusting the oven temperature, Creigh walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door. She looked around for a few seconds, then bent over slightly to grab the longneck bottle from the bottom shelf. When she stood and turned around, Dean was right behind her.

  He was so close, she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Nervous, she offered him the bottle. He took it but didn’t bother to open it. Instead he lowered his hand to his side and stared intensely at her. “Where are the kids?”

  Creigh wet her lips and stepped away from the refrigerator, letting the door close behind her. She walked over to the counter and leaned on it for support. “At my mother’s house.”

  “For how long?”

  “Till morning,” she admitted almost reluctantly. The closer she came to the point where she knew she was supposed to be bold and tell him what she wanted, the harder it was to meet his gaze. It was so much easier picking her outfit than it was plotting how to convince him to make love with her.

  “Hmmm…” Dean stepped a bit closer to her and set the bottle on the counter behind her. His arm brushed against hers in the process, and the simple touch caused goose bumps to break out across her arms. Damn, she was in serious need of some loving. “Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t a mere coincidence?”

  “Because it isn’t.” Creigh rubbed her arm to calm her flesh and to keep her idle hands busy and away from Dean’s too-tempting jeans.

  “Interesting.” He took yet another step closer.

  His nearness had her head spinning and pussy clenching. Dean’s presence was going straight to her head. Reaching out behind her, she grabbed the counter for support and willed her voice to stay even. “What’s so interesting about it?”

  “You.” The way he was watching her so keenly began to wear on Creigh, and her courage began to slip away. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t a siren. She wasn’t a seductress. She was a pregnant mother of two.

  “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” Willing to give him an out if he needed it.

  “Oh I want. Desperately so. I just want to know something first.” Dean placed his hands on either side of her on the counter, trapping her inside his arms. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

  Creigh forced herself to hold her head high and met his gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Dean leaned in closer, so his lips were mere inches away from her ear. “Don’t you?” His whispered words played like fingertips across her nipples.

  “No,” she breathed, trying desperately to hang on to the little bit of strength she had left.

  “Then the new outfit, the freshly done hair and nails”—Dean lowered his head a few inches, then leaned in even closer to her neck and inhaled deeply—“and that scent. The sweet heady perfume of yours you know I love. It’s merely a coincidence.” He raised his head and focused his punch-drunk gaze on her. “And it was in no means meant to drive me out of my fucking mind.”

  Well, when he put it that way. “Maybe.” Creigh wet her lips. “A little.”

  Dean moved so quickly he startled her. He pressed against her and wrapped his arms around her. Creigh could feel the growing bulge of his erection against her. Dean wasn’t immune to her after all. “Just a little?”

  “Maybe a bit more than a little.”

  “How much more?” Dean wrapped his hand in her hair and tugged her head back.

  As much as Creigh would have liked to pretend that his caveman ways did nothing for her, she couldn’t. His actions, the predatory way he watched her, the domineering way he held her, had her juice creaming her thighs.

  He tightened his grip. The added pressure made her gasp, not in pain, but in need. “Tell me.”

  “A lot,” she finally whimpered.

  “Good. Consider me seduced.” Dean used his grip on her hair to hold her steady, then covered her lips with his.

  Creigh’s eyes closed automatically, and she surrendered to his embrace. She kissed him with all the hunger and passion in her soul. Groaning, Dean responded in kind. He used his free hand to pull her flush against him. Her belly prevented her from pressing fully against him, but she greedily and happily took what she could get it. She lost herself in the sensation of his kiss, the thrill of his touch, and she knew, despite how desperately she wanted to make love to him, she could have settled for just this. Being with him in any intimate way again.

  After a few moments of sheer bliss, Dean lifted his mouth off hers. He let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead against hers. “You’re making this hard on me.”

  Boldly, Creigh worked her hand between them and cupped his erect cock. “Lord, I hope so.”

  “Cara.” The rough desire in his voice made her pussy clench. “I’m trying so hard to be good.”

  “Don’t,” she whispered. “I like it when you’re bad.”

  Dean pulled back a little bit and stared intently into her eyes. “And all that stuff you said about talking and getting to know each other better?”

  “Right now, there’s only one part of you I want to get to know better.”

  To her utter surprise, Dean lowered himself to his knees in front of her. “Only one?”

  She stared at his mouth with a hunger she could never describe. She’d obviously misspoken. “Or maybe…or maybe two.”

  Dean reached up under her floral shirt and took hold of the stretchy material of her maternity jean skirt, and tugged. With very little effort the skirt gave and ended up as a dark blue puddle at her feet.

  Since none of her underwear was even the slightest bit un-grannylike, Creigh had decided to go sans panties, which left her wearing only her shirt, her wedge sandals, a spray or two of perfume, and the thin layer of cocoa butter she’d rubbed onto her skin after her shower.

  “Hold on to something.” It was the only warning she received before he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder.

  “Dean!” Creigh reached behind her to the counter and gripped it with all her might. Without waiting to see if she did as he’d ordered, Dean spread her slick folds apart and buried his mouth in her pussy. His tongue flicked over her soaked slit for a few seconds before he took her clit between his lips and sucked the hard nub with an intensity that made her weak in the knees.

  “Oh, God… Dean…” Creigh wanted to entangle her hand in his hair and pull him even closer to her, but she knew if she let go of the counter, that would be all she wrote. She was forced to surrender herself to Dean’s talented tongue and leave the driving to him. As keyed up as she was and as skilled at pleasing her as Dean was, it didn’t take Creigh long to come.

  Her body barely stopped trembling before Dean stood and kissed her deeply. She welcomed the taste of herself on his lips and tongue. Just as she welcomed the man himself back in her arms and life.

  With a shudder, Dean pulled back and stared deep into her eyes. “I want you,” he murmured huskily. “Missed you so damn much.”

  “Missed you too.”

  Before she could say more, Dean bent down and picked her up as if she weighed less than
nothing and carried her the few feet from the kitchen back into the living room. He did it with a grace and strength that startled her and made her feel all kinds of womanly. If she hadn’t wanted to fuck him before, after that smooth move, she would have gladly dropped to her knees and shown him her appreciation. Even though she enjoyed his Clark Gable impersonation, there was a freshly made bed with their name written metaphorically all over it.

  “The bedroom…” She gestured toward the room with a slight nod.

  “Is too far away.” He set her down in front of the couch and began to undress.

  Creigh undid her shoes, then unhooked her strapless bra from beneath her shirt. After freeing her breasts, she flung the bra off to the side but chose to keep her shirt on, and by the time he was undressed, she was more than ready to pick up where they left off.

  Dean sat on the couch, and Creigh instantly climbed on top of him. She held on to the back of the couch for leverage as he scooted down a bit for comfort. This was a position they’d mastered during Harlow’s stay inside Creigh. Girl on top gave Creigh all the power and comfort she needed during this stage, but it also gave Dean and his wandering wonderful hands lots of opportunity to reach and touch her anywhere and any way he liked. A win-win position if there ever was one.

  Greedy and ready to have him once more, she reached for his cock, desperate to have him inside her. To her surprise, though, Dean smacked her hand away. “I don’t think so. Give me what I want.”

  Creigh knew exactly what he was implying, so she didn’t waste time arguing. She pulled her shirt down to the top of her stomach, allowing her breasts to tumble free. The second they were out, Dean was on them. Cupping them in his hands, he took his sweet time teasing and tormenting her nipples with his mouth and fingers. If it hadn’t been for her orgasm earlier, Creigh was sure she would have gone mad with hunger, because although his cock was more than hard and ready, inches away from her pussy, Dean refused to thrust inside her until he sated his never-wavering lust with her breasts. This too was a sexual tradition she knew well.