Vic picked up the lap desk and notepad Sophie had used
and set them on the desk on her way to the door. Before
turning the light off, she studied the girl for a last
moment. The pale coloring she’d gotten from her Norwegian
heritage stood in stark contrast to the inky shadows beneath
her eyes and the rosy cheeks the fever caused. So like her
father, regardless of how bad she felt, her academic drive
and generous heart propelled her on.
Rubbing her chest, wondering at the odd feeling, as if
she’d been somehow bruised, Vic turned off the light and
headed down the small hall to the living room. Hauk entered
as she turned the corner. Tiredness tinted his gaze, but
there was a power radiating from him she hadn’t noticed
before. A sense of determination.
They both froze. Vic trembled from the nape of her neck
to the tips of her fingers. Sophie’s paper drifted to the
floor.
His piercing blue eyes snapped to hers. Held.
It was a moment they’d had a few times over the years.
The kind of moment that made her wonder if they could be
more than friends. The kind that tempted her to step forward
and see what it would be like to kiss him. To taste him. It
was the kind of moment that haunted her dreams and kept her
distancing herself from other men.
Despite the scattered moments, she’d never acted on one.
At first because he’d been with Krista. Then he’d been with
Jean Marie. He’d needed to heal from the first and deal with
the second. By the time he’d gotten past those hurts, he’d
just given up on possibilities of more.
He started to speak. Stopped. When he finally did speak,
he settled on, “How’s Sophie?”
“Asleep.”
“Is she feeling any better?” Like so many men, he only
said what he needed and in few words. Tiredness slowed his
tone from its normal steadiness until he sounded brusque.
“Not yet, but with any luck she’ll sleep all night.”
“Unfortunately she’s never been good at staying asleep
when she’s sick.”
On top of single-dad duties, he’d been splitting his time
between running the bar with a skeleton crew and designing
and building a new stage for the festival. She had no doubt
he’d pull it all off, but knowing he was in for a long night
bugged Vic.
“Would you like me to stay?” Even as she asked, she knew
he wouldn’t accept. She stepped forward, feeling suddenly
awkward and not liking it. “You don’t have time to join the
ranks of the flu-fallen.”
He smiled as she’d hoped, but in spite of his Norwegian
ancestry that gifted him with godlike looks, it didn’t
brighten his wiped-out gaze. The man was exhausted.
“You should go.” He moved forward but his feet didn’t get
a clear signal. He stumbled, whether on the carpet or his
own feet she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. The momentum
carried him toward her in three rushed shuffles.
Fearing he would keep going and knock himself out when he
fell, Vic hustled to close the distance between them and
stopped his plunge with her arms wrapped around his waist.
His weight bearing down on her, his hands against her lower
back, fully awakened the awareness she’d sensed when he
stepped in moments ago.
Sparks ignited beneath her skin, snapping her body into
an instant arousal that paled to that in her dreams.
Swallowing, she backed a step away and struggled for
something safe to say. Something that wouldn’t send Hauk
running.
“I’m staying. You’re going to bed.” Shit. Nothing safe
about that.
“Okay.” Hauk’s agreement was more an effect of their
closeness than real agreement.
It had to be, because he never would have agreed to her
staying overnight. He would worry too much that someone in
town would catch on, or Sophie would get ideas, or worse,
Vic would get ideas. Too late.
Her mind and body, especially her body, went into erotic
overdrive when he didn’t back away either. Arousal filled
her, lapping through her in curling waves that ebbed and
flowed with warmth and wanting. “Hauk?”
“Hmm?” He set his hands on her hips, tugging her back to
him.
He’d never touched her as anything other than a friend,
and even those casual brushes of skin had been shielded
behind propriety. Unsure if it was from a drop in his guard
or hers, Vic was acutely aware of Hauk’s body.
Tall. Lean. Warm. Hard… Everywhere.
She was equally aware of her body’s response to him.
Trembly. Wet. Hot.
Oh sweet damn.
“Sean is waiting.”
“What?” she whispered as she raised her head to find Hauk
staring down with…was that hunger? Sean was nice, but really
not her type. Why bring him up? “Who cares?”
They stood at a boundary they’d never acknowledged,
discussed or crossed. A boundary she wanted only to
obliterate.
Rising up to her toes, with her body rubbing against his
deliciously, she eased closer to his lips. Answering her
desire, he held her closer, his head lowering slowly toward
her lips.
The kiss was nothing more than a light caress.
They both pulled back. Vic traced a finger along the
outline of her lips and hummed. “Do you think…? Would you…”
Hauk leaned in and kissed her. Again it was only a gentle
touch. Tentative. Barely there. Lingering a moment longer.
They both pulled back. Again Vic touched her lips and
hummed.
“Awful?” he asked.
She shook her head once with her eyes mostly closed. “A
little weird.”
“Yeah.” Again he brushed his lips across hers. “But worth
repeating.”
“Yeah.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
The next brush was tentative, but long enough. A spark
ignited a chain reaction that lit a fuse. With an almost
unheard “hmm”, Hauk lifted Vic until she was flush against
him and her feet dangled in the air. Lips level without the
need to bend or stretch, they explored each other.
Slow sweeps of lips rapidly became rough rushes of
tongues. The burning fuse fried Vic’s nerves, leaving only
raw sensation and growing heat in its wake. Burying her
hands in his blond hair, thrilling at the extra length since
he’d missed his last two appointments, she wrapped her legs
around his waist.
He was her best friend. She’d always loved him but had
never imagined he would show any interest in her. Whatever
had changed his mind, she wasn’t arguing.
The move settled her pussy directly against his dick. He
was thick and hard. She was wet and swollen. Neither of them
could hide their reaction to the other. She loved that he
didn’t try. Yet.
“Damn, Vic.” He panted when he eased back.
“Ditto, Hauk.” She only gave him a moment to breathe
before reclaiming his mouth.
She tensed the muscles in her thighs for concentrated
control and slid her body against his. The line they’d never
crossed blurred with each pounding pulse of their hearts,
and she didn’t give a damn because nothing would make her
regret Hauk’s touch.
Her belly jumped with nervous energy. It was a sensation
she’d only felt once, the night she’d decided to give up her
virginity—an experience she’d never regretted. Spurred by
the memory, by the hope for another amazing memory, Vic
tightened her hold on Hauk and kissed a little deeper.
Their tongues shifted from sliding caresses to tangling
thrusts. Fluid relaxation whispered through Vic’s muscles,
taking them from knots of tension to tendrils of flame. Her
arousal was as tangible as Hauk’s lean body as she curled
into him. Committed the feel of him against her to memory.
Encouraged by her responses and apparently eager to
continue, Hauk carried her to the sofa. He sank. She
straddled. He gripped her hips. She stripped off his shirt.
Vic took in Hauk’s work-toned torso and, like a clichéd
teen with a crush, licked her lips. She’d seen him without
shirts, and loved each treat, but somehow with her palms
flattened on his pecs, he seemed bigger than she’d thought.
Firmer.
“Vic, are we really going to do this?”
Please, yes. “I’m game if you are.”