Almost in Love (17 page)

Toby’s eyes bugged out as Kevin and Zac handed him their swords.

“What the hell was that about?” Toby asked as Kevin stormed off stage.

Amber jabbed a finger into Zac’s chest. “He’s mine.”

Zac glanced at Barry and flounced off stage. Barry stared at Amber, a sci-fi lover’s wet dream. He’d never wanted her more. And his heart, which had already been falling, took a complete, irreversible dive into deep love.

Amber woke on Saturday morning as she did every morning since she’d hooked up with Bare, with him spooning her, his erection pressing into her bottom insistently. His hands were under the Dancing Cow T-shirt she wore as a nightgown with nothing else, trailing over her breasts and belly, tracing the tiny diamond stud piercing, warming her as she slowly awoke. They always stayed at his place because Ian slept like the dead whereas Kate was always trying out new flirty moves on Bare, flouncing around the apartment in Amber’s shortie pajamas even in the daytime. Kate’s most recent flirt: muttering “expand my polynomial” while walking quickly past Bare, who later claimed with a wink that it meant she wanted a threesome. Ha! Not likely.

Birdsong filled the room as his alarm clock went off. He must’ve forgotten to shut it off for the weekend. The first morning she’d heard it, she’d commented, “The birds are really loud on this side of the building.” He’d thought that was hysterical. Now she was used to it. As used to it as she was to what came next.

He shut off the alarm, lifted her leg up over his, and growled, “Say my name.” It was his way of checking that she was fully awake.

“Bare,” she whispered, and he slipped inside her. She felt like she was a part of him, like they were always connected in this intimate way, even when they weren’t. When he was working or they were at rehearsal, the memory of it stuck with her. It was incredible, this closeness. With few exceptions, most guys took off after their night together. Bare always wanted to be with her again and again. He did indeed have the stamina of a racehorse, and she didn’t mind at all. She’d never felt so loved, never felt so close with another person.

Now he urged her on as he always did, with his words, his hands, his devious mouth, his unrelenting thrusting until she broke for him, shattered by the intensity before he took his own release. She was like a limp ragdoll by the time he was done with her. A glowing, satisfied ragdoll.

This was their first Saturday together. They had the whole day off until that night’s rehearsal. Even better, Ian was visiting friends in the city.

Bare made her breakfast—an omelet, toast, and coffee—and she had just stood to clear when she caught his hot look across the table. Next thing she knew he had her on the kitchen table, driving into her, making her come from the thrill of it. When they finished, he collapsed on the sofa. She thought for sure he was done with her.

But then he joined her in the shower. After a thoroughly arousing cleaning, they fell into bed together. They lay, side by side, facing each other. He never stopped touching her, stroking her, playing with her, teasing her. She was in a constant state of arousal when he was around.

She curled into his chest. He maneuvered her leg over his hip and pulled her closer. She could feel he wanted her, the shower had been only an invigorating cleaning, but she didn’t have the energy to move.

“I want you so bad all the time,” he said as his hand curled around her bottom, slipping his fingers inside her, the way he liked to hold her.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, way beyond conversation.

“I want you always willing and open to me.” His voice was low in her ear, and her body responded as it always did to his dirty talk, clenching around his fingers, warming to his words.

“I have an insatiable hunger for you.” He nipped at her earlobe. “You know what I want?”

“What?” Her voice came out unsteady. She never knew what he’d come up with next. The man had made her
howl
.

His tongue traced her ear, and a hot shiver ran through her.

“What?” she prompted, pulling back to look at him.

“Never mind. It’s geeky.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“It’s a science experiment.”

She grinned. “Sexy.”

His fingers stroked inside her, and she moaned, instinctively moving with him. “It could be if you let me test my hypothesis.”

He slipped another finger inside, and her brain clouded with sensation. She closed her eyes.

His voice reached her dimly. “Every morning you’re ready for me just from talking. I tell you to say my name, right? I barely have to touch you. I hypothesize I can use words to get you ready at other times. If I’m right, I could easily and quickly take you wherever, whenever. I could train you with a conditioned response.”

She stiffened, but found it impossible to pull away with the way he held her. “I’m not a dog. You can’t train me.”

“You want to bet?”

She licked her lips, fully alert now, and met his eyes. They were dark with hunger. He couldn’t wait to wager for what he wanted so badly. Her.

“I can’t think with your hand like that.” Her body throbbed around his fingers, even as her mind rebelled against this crazy idea of his.

His fingers did a slow roll inside her. “I don’t want you to think.”

“Bare, please,” she gasped out, but she wasn’t sure what she was asking for.

He released her, and she tried to go back to their conversation. The bet.

“What do I get if I win?” she asked.

“I’ll rent you an art studio for a year.”

“That was a quick answer. How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Just since I was waiting for you to wake up this morning. I thought it would be awesome to have you as much as I wanted, and believe me, that is every time I look at you, and you like when I’m in command so…”

He waited, letting her fill in the blanks. Did she want to give him that kind of control? She glanced at him, and he smiled encouragingly. Oh, what was she worried about? This was Bare. She trusted him. Besides, it wouldn’t work anyway. She couldn’t be trained. And she’d get an art studio. All of her canvases and paints spread out. Now they cluttered up her apartment, but her own space was a dream come true.

She bit her lip. “And what do you get if I…lose.”

“You. Anytime. Anywhere.” There was no encouraging smile this time, only a smoldering gaze into her eyes. His gaze dropped to her mouth. He leaned in, kissing her gently, tenderly, until she fully relaxed again.

She sighed. He turned, rolled on a condom, and returned to her. Side by side again, he pulled her leg over his hip and pushed inside her just a bit, just enough to make it hard to think.

“Will you take the bet?” he asked, pulling out. “I promise to always have condoms if you promise to test my hypothesis.” They were going through condoms by the dozen. She should probably go on the pill soon.

“Hypothesis,” she echoed, unable to think clearly when he teased her with the tip, in and out. Her body contracted involuntarily, trying to hold him.

“That I can train you to take me whenever, wherever,” he said. “In a week.”

Oh, God, he was making her so hot just talking about it. Even if he was right, there was no way he could do that in a week.

“Yes, test it,” she said because she wanted him. She wanted the art studio. She wanted.

He pressed in again, just a bit. “I’m going to say,
Amber, here, now
every time I take you until you hear the words and you’re hot and wet and ready for me.”

She got hot and wet just hearing that. She nodded.

His hand cupped her bottom, pressing her close. “You have to wear a skirt for me all week.”

“Okay, okay.”

His eyes burned into hers. “Amber, here, now,” he growled before thrusting inside her. She gasped at the intensity of it, the suddenness, and then she was along for the ride, hot and cresting as his fingers reached between them and brought her to the edge and beyond.

Even knowing what he was going to do, the words he used, the wager, she didn’t fight it. Just stayed in the moment. Because the moment he said it was always one where she was already hot and ready for him. For the rest of the week, every night, every morning, sometimes twice in a morning, he said the words in his growly voice, “Amber, here, now,” just before he entered her.

Still, when she had a moment to think about it—when he was at work, because the rest of the time his hands were all over her—she was pretty sure his hypothesis wasn’t working because she was already hot when he said the command. The words just added heat to what was already there. She could already picture the art studio in her mind.

~ ~ ~

Barry threw himself into rehearsal on Friday night feeling every bit the Pirate King with the greatest treasure in the world. Amber was his, absolutely his, and he already knew he wanted to marry her. They just fit—physically, humor-wise, annoying sibling-wise, just everything. He liked who he was with her. He was that guy that took charge and made women beg for more, instead of the guy always being told to hurry up and finish. He’d wait until after the show to propose just to be sure it wasn’t the pirate effect swaying her in his direction. He pushed that thought aside. That was stupid. He didn’t always act like a pirate with her. He was the stud muffin version of himself, which was fast becoming his true self. It worked very well for both of them.

He wiped the sweat off his brow. Jasmine was working their tails off on this musical number with the police. Most of them had two left feet.

“Take five,” Jasmine said before heading over to the piano to talk to Will.

Barry stepped off stage and headed to the band room, where he kept a large water bottle. Amber was off-site at a costume shop with Edith. He should probably tell Amber, sooner or later, that the reason her painting sales had slowed down was because he was too busy to keep checking the website and buying them. She’d mentioned her sales dwindling a few times now. He took a long drink, considering. No, he wouldn’t bring it up. Why hurt her when he didn’t have to? She was happy painting, so she could just keep doing that. He finished drinking and mopped the sweat off his face with the bottom of his T-shirt.

“Found you!”

He turned and smiled at Amber. She walked right up to him and kissed him. He still couldn’t believe she was really into him. It was like a goddess hooking up with a nerdy earthling. But this nerdy earthling was a quick study, and this goddess was his favorite subject.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” She grabbed his hand and pulled. “Come on.”

“I don’t have long. Jasmine is going to want me back on stage in a few minutes.”

“I just came from there. She and Will are still arguing.” She pulled again, and he followed. “It won’t take long.”

They went down a long hallway and stopped at a small storage area with a wooden wedge holding the door ajar. It was all the costumes. He already had his pirate costume, so he wasn’t sure what she—

“Ta-dah!” she said, pulling a costume off the rack.

It was a large cow costume—white with black spots. Just like his old one, but better.

She held the costume up. “Do you like it? I bought it for you when we were at the costume shop.” She held it up to him. “It should fit.”

He swallowed over the lump in his throat, overwhelmed with emotion. Before, Amber hadn’t seemed to like him as a dancing cow. She’d called him a bird-cow man. But this gift said she accepted him. Understood him.

“Amber…” His voice came out in a growl.

She flushed and looked around the small space. “I don’t think we have room here.”

He shook his head. He hadn’t meant that, though it was interesting that just her name was a trigger. He took her hands. “Thank you.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.” She smiled up at him. “Your voice. It sort of had that growl that means…it’s time.”

He nodded. “It gets like that when I feel a lot. Like the emotion”—he put his hand on his throat—“just gets stuck there.”

She thought about that while she stroked her hand up and down his arm. If he wasn’t touching her, she was touching him. It was constant contact, and he loved it.

He put the costume back on the rack for later. “I thought you didn’t like me being a dancing cow.”

Her hand was in his hair now, stroking through the hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s your art. You’re a performer. I understand.”

His heart squeezed. “Amber…” he growled. Her breathing hitched. “I love you.”

She didn’t reply, just wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. He kissed her back with all the love he was feeling. He wanted to tell her all that he felt, all that he wanted for them, but then she went up on tiptoe, and their bodies lined up exactly where he needed, which made all rational thought disappear.

“There you are!” a voice called.

He pulled away from Amber, but still laced his fingers with hers.

It was Edith. “Toby needs you on stage,” she said to him. “Amber, come with me. We need to do some fittings for the Major-General’s daughters.”

“Duty calls,” Amber said.

She left with Edith, and Barry stood there for a few moments, watching Amber go. She hadn’t said I love you back. That didn’t mean anything, he reassured himself. Her kiss spoke volumes. Nothing to worry about.

But some part of him lingered over that worry until it lodged uncomfortably in his heart.

~ ~ ~

The next morning Barry looked forward to testing his hypothesis. He stretched out in Amber’s bed. Kate had gone home for a visit, so they had the apartment to themselves. It had been a thoroughly enjoyable week because Amber was so responsive to him. His coming up with that bet was a stroke of brilliance if he did say so himself. He had a perpetual hard-on whenever he saw Amber, and once he knew the pure joy of making love to her, instead of getting old, he found himself hard even more. He needed relief; he needed Amber. Not that he didn’t love foreplay, but there were times he found it hard to wait. He didn’t do it to control her, he did it to control him, so he’d always know when he felt desperate to have her again, she would be okay with him, that he wasn’t pushing too hard.