The Last One (18 page)

I swallowed and tried to remember the many reasons why this was a bad idea. Since all of my blood was currently residing somewhere south of my belt buckle, my brain couldn’t seem to come up with even one thing.

She stood in front of me, inches from my knees, just where she’d been last night when she’d offered me more than just friendship. Then I’d pushed her away. Tonight, I wasn’t sure I could do it again.

“Hi.” Her voice was low, and one side of her mouth lifted in a smile.

“I see you girls got home. Finally.” I didn’t mean to say them, but the words came blasting out before I thought about it.

Because she was Meghan, and she never did what I expected, she only lifted one eyebrow.

“I brought your sister home as promised, safe and sound. I had one beer, hours ago, and my car didn’t break down.” She slid her foot between both of mine, her eyes still steady. “This is where you say, ‘Thank you, Meghan.’”

I let out a breath. “Yeah. Thanks. How drunk is she? Did she get groped?”

“Not by me.” Her smile grew, and she pivoted sideways and dropped onto my lap. Out of instinct, I caught her by the hips.

“What are you doing?”

“You brought up groping. It seemed like a good idea.” She leaned onto my chest and twined her arms around my neck. “You kissed me this morning. I know you said it was a mistake, and maybe you meant that. But right now, I don’t care. I want to kiss you.” She brought her lips to my jaw, nipping along the line until she reached my ear. “What do you think, Sam?” Her whisper sent a shot of want straight to my cock.

I gripped her hips and pulled her closer, twisting her body so that she was forced to straddle me. Her denim skirt was tight, and it rutched up to the top of her thighs. I ran my hands down the expanse of bared white skin, teasing the inner muscles until she shivered. She tightened her hold on me and pressed her breasts against my chest.

“I guess I’ll take that as agreement.” The words drifted to my ear as Meghan kissed down my neck, sucking gently on the pounding vein there. The tip of her tongue darted out to touch and tantalize.

I took hold of her face and brought it to mine, holding her chin as I kissed her with abandon and reckless need. I pulled down to open her mouth and plunged my tongue inside and then held the back of her head, tilting it enough to let me get even closer. My lips moved to devour her, as I moaned. All I wanted was her, laid out before me, legs open and eyes begging. My body wanted to slam into her, mark and brand her as mine.

Sucking her lower lip into my mouth, I circled it with my tongue and caught it between my teeth, swallowing her answering moan as the vibration of it swam down my throat. She wriggled even closer, rubbing the warmth between her legs against the stiffness between mine. Blood pounded in my ears as I realized that only a thin wisp of material covered her.

There was still a part of my brain that tried to remind me I’d decided not to do this. That whatever pull I felt toward Meghan was wrong and leading straight to a dead end of possibilities. But I was having trouble hearing that caution over the overwhelming urge to touch her. I tried to compromise.
I’ll just touch her boobs. Just one touch ... then I’ll stop.

I let my hands fall away from her face, dropping them to her shoulders and then lower, to the straining green cotton over her bra. I palmed both breasts, my breath catching at their fullness and weight. She made a small sound in her throat and sat up a little, dropping her head back, eyes closed. I took advantage of her position to sweep my thumbs over her nipples, rubbing back and forth as they hardened under my touch. I curled my fingers beneath the neckline of her shirt and tugged it down, along with the lace bra under it, so that she was bared to me. My breath was coming in pants, and I lifted her slightly, bringing her even to my mouth and capturing the stiff peak.

Meghan’s hands grasped my head, as though she were afraid I’d move my mouth away from her. I tongued her nipple, pressing it into the roof of my mouth and then sucking it hard. She began moving against me, rubbing her center against my hard cock in a way that was going to make stopping almost impossible.

I kept my mouth on one breast, my hand on the other for the space of a few more breaths, before I slid both hands to her ribs and then around to her back. “Meghan. We need to take a break here or I won’t be able to stop.”

She lifted her head and opened her eyes, smiling at me. “Why would you want you to?”

I shook my head. She wasn’t going to make this easy. “Because while I have no objections to a heavy make-out session at midnight on the front porch, I’m not up for having sex on the floor here, where my sister or my niece could wake up and come down to see what all the racket is.”

She sighed, dropping her forehead to my shoulder. “Okay, I get that. But damn, you feel good.” She trailed one hand down my chest, over my stomach, to where the zipper of my jeans was straining. I sucked in a sharp breath as her fingers rubbed me. “I was given a strict mandate tonight to rock your world. I could still do that.”

“I think you already have.” I caught her hand and held it between both of my own. “I’m not that guy. I don’t want you getting me off if I can’t do the same for you. And dammit, Meghan, all the things I said before still stand. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you, but it’s not right. Not for either of us.”

She stared down into my face, her eyes unreadable. “Maybe it’s right for now. Maybe we just need to get each other out of our systems. You know? Like scratching an itch.” She traced my mouth with the tip of her finger. “We could try it.”

“And what if that itch needs more than one scratch?” I opened my lips, snaked out my tongue to touch her finger. She slid it inside my mouth, and I sucked at it, feeling the corresponding pull between my legs.

“Then ... we have the summer. Sam, trust me, I’m not looking for anything serious. If you knew me better, you’d realize that. I never date anyone for more than a few weeks. It’s kind of a rule with me. I get bored easily, and when I’m done, I’m done. But we’re both adults, and we’re both unattached. Why shouldn’t we have some fun this summer?”

I knew all the reasons I should tell her no, and they were good, strong reasons. But I also knew there was no way I was going to make it the rest of the summer without touching her. Maybe it was better to lay down some ground rules.

I grazed my hands up to frame her face. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I also have to look out for Ali and Bridget. If we do this ... we need to be discreet. They can’t know that anything’s happening.”

An expression of amusement flittered over her face. “Have you met your sister? Do you think anything happens around here that she doesn’t know about? I think you’re kidding yourself.”

I lifted one eyebrow. “I’ve been able to have other relationships without her knowing. I’m just smart about it.”

Meghan laughed, and the movement brought her body closer to me again, making it hard to pay attention to what she was saying. “Really? Does that include ... hmmm, what was her name? Casey? Jaycee?”

I stiffened. “How do you know about her?”

She cuffed my shoulder. “How do you think, doofus? Ali told me. She said she didn’t think you’d been dating anyone since Jaycee or whoever she was left town.”

“Shit.” I closed my eyes. “She’s better than I thought. How could she know about that?”

“Sister intuition?” Meghan smirked. “I get that. I know I was shocked when I found out about Joseph—that’s my brother—getting his girlfriend pregnant. I hadn’t even suspected, and usually I knew all his secrets.” She smoothed her fingers over my hair, almost absently. “But what you mean is, you don’t want to make this a big deal. You don’t want to take me on dates or hold my hand when we’re walking around the farm, right? Nothing that’d make anyone think we might be a real couple.”

Meghan’s voice held no condemnation or hurt, but I still winced. She made it sound so harsh. “It’s just too hard to explain things like this to Ali, and Bridge would start designing you a wedding gown. She’s young, and she’s impressionable. For her, there’s a strict order to life. You kiss a boy, you wear a white dress, and you live happily ever after. I don’t want to disillusion her yet.”

“I understand.” Meghan slid her hands behind my neck. “So we’re talking clandestine make-out sessions in the orchard? Sneaking around after bedtime, meeting in the barn for a quick roll in the hay?”

I trailed my fingers down her side, over her ribs and then back up to her still-exposed breasts. They were too tempting, and I leaned forward to touch my lips to one stiff nipple. “We don’t have hay in the barn. Just farm equipment. Nothing that would be comfortable enough for what you’re suggesting.” I bit gently on the rosy peak.

She smiled and massaged the back of my neck, holding me in place as her eyes drifted closed. “What kind of farm doesn’t have hay in the barn?”

“The kind that doesn’t have animals. And if you object to our hay-free farm, you can join Bridget’s campaign for horses. Won’t do any good, though. We can’t afford to feed them yet. Maybe someday.” I eased her bra and shirt back into place. “God, I could sit here all night with you on my lap, doing this. Except I’d be so tired in the morning, I wouldn’t get anything done tomorrow.”

“I think tomorrow is today.” Meghan shifted to adjust her bra, cupping her hand around my jaw with gentle fingers as she leaned back. “And I know you need your sleep.”

“Yeah, I do.” I wasn’t sure exactly where we stood. Were we going to be summer fuck buddies, for as long as I could hide that from my snooping sister? Or were we back to being just friends again?

“This is your show, Sam.” Speaking as though she’d read my mind, Meghan eased off my lap and stood up. “When you want me, you know where I am. I won’t push. If you wake up tomorrow—well, in the morning, at any rate—and decide it’s a bad idea again, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I’ll figure it out.” She laid her hands on my shoulder and bent so that her lips were against my ear. “But if you need something to help you make up your mind, to help you sleep, know that in my bed tonight, I’ll be thinking of you.” She straightened, keeping her eyes pinned to mine as she ran her tongue over her lips and then skimmed fingers over her own breasts.

My mouth went dry. At that moment, I didn’t care about waking up Ali, Bridget or everyone in ten-mile radius. I wanted her on the porch floor, under me, writhing. I needed to be inside her, making her scream my name, more than I needed my next heartbeat.

But Meghan only smiled and touched one finger to my cheek. “Night, Sam. Sweet dreams.”

I watched her hips sway back across the porch and through the front door. She held it carefully so that it didn’t slam, and then her footsteps disappeared in the direction of her bedroom.

God, what kind of self-flagellating fool was I?

I DIDN’T SLEEP WELL. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Meghan touching herself, and I woke more than once with a painful hardness between my legs. I mumbled a curse against her and all women as I rolled over and tried to get comfortable. It was a losing battle.

I gave up at sunrise. After a quick shower, I dressed and snuck down to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I was going to need at least that much today. The rest of the house was silent. I expected my sister would sleep in after her big night out, and Bridget was never an early riser. Slipping into Meghan’s room and taking care of what seemed to be a permanent erection was tempting but too risky. In the light of day, I knew I’d been right about keeping whatever happened between the two of us a secret from Ali. And maybe if I kept my distance from Meghan, I’d be able to avoid doing anything that would have to be kept a secret.

I left the house with my coffee and drove to the field farthest from the house. Yeah, distance was the best thing. I liked to think I was strong, but the last few weeks had let me know that any time I was close to Meghan, my self-control seemed to vanish. Staying out of her path today, when I wasn’t sure exactly where we stood, felt like a good plan.

By the time I ran out of excuses to keep me away from the house, it was past dinner-time. I parked the truck by the shed as usual and washed up, taking my sweet time doing it. Ali was going to blast me for being late for a meal, I knew, so why rush toward trouble?

To my surprise, though, it was laughter that I heard when I swung open the screen door to the kitchen. My sister and Meghan were standing at the counter, peeling and chopping carrots and cucumbers. A huge salad bowl sat between the two cutting boards.

“ ... and then Trent says, ‘But I’m hotter than he is. What does he have that I don’t?’ And of course I’m laughing so hard, and Flynn’s giving me the look of death—” Ali broke off mid-sentence when she saw me. Meghan glanced up, the knife in her hand coming to a halt in mid-air. Her eyes met mine, and the air in the room was suddenly steamier than it had been outside.

“There you are.” Ali looked nearly as flustered as Meghan and me, and I realized what she’d been saying when I’d interrupted. I hadn’t heard that name on her lips in a very long time. What had happened between my sister and her high school boyfriend all those years ago had never been clear to me. All I knew was that for four years, they’d been inseparable, and then on graduation day, something had gone wrong and Flynn Evans had left. His parents still lived in town, but to the best of my knowledge, their son hadn’t ever returned.