Take Me To Bed: Bedtime Quickies Page 4

  As I glanced to where I’d seen the guys earlier, nervous energy coursed through me when I saw they were gone. We were alone. Or alone enough for what I wanted.

  He grabbed my hand and took the lead. Water dripped from his hair down his back and I followed the droplets as they disappeared into his athletic shorts. This boy was going to kiss me.

  “Uh, Cruz?”

  He looked over his shoulder but didn’t break stride. “Yeah Hazel?”

  “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

  There it was, barely noticeable, but I was looking for it. “You have the cutest blush,” I blurted. Damned nerves were turning me into an idiot.

  He bit his lower lip and started walking backwards, facing me full-on. It was difficult not to let my gaze wander down his bare chest, so I didn’t even bother trying.

  “No, Hazel,” he said. “This will be my first kiss too.”

  My eyes snapped up to meet his but he was already turning around. So we were kissing. I knew it!

  Cruz went around the tree and stopped, his back leaning against it. Then he took my other hand in his. “Well, I have kissed a couple of girls,” he said and I couldn’t hide the disappointment I felt at the admission.

  “But not with tongue.”

  My hands squeezed his. “We’ll do tongue then.”

  He laughed softly. “Yeah, we’ll do tongue.”

  And then he lowered his head, tilting it to one side. He didn’t hesitate, letting his lips brush mine. Cruz’s tongue swiped out, gently running along my lips until I opened my mouth. As he dipped inside, his hands let mine go to wrap around my waist, and I pressed closer. My hands splayed on the firm planes of his chest and I felt the warmth of his mouth inside of me. He was only kissing me in one spot but it spread down through me, settling hottest right in my core.

  I had the urge to suck on his tongue, see how it felt, and when I did just that, he groaned. At the same time his hips thrust forward, and I felt the same hardness from the hot tub. So, he liked it when I sucked his tongue. I did it again, my hands running up his neck and circling around him at the same time.

  We went on like this, tasting each other, responding with little noises that let the other know what felt best. I didn’t know how long it lasted, but my skin grew hot, itchy, and I had urges I’d never had before. My leg kept twitching like it wanted to lift itself onto Cruz, wrap around him like an octopus. My center was needy, wanting to rub against him. I was breathing like I’d just done suicide sprints, but I was the opposite of tired. Cruz’s kisses were like an electric jolt to my body, bringing it alive in ways that were foreign to me. I wanted to know what else my body could do, what other pleasures Cruz could give me.

  But we heard splashing and voices, and he pulled away. His dark eyes were dilated as he rested his forehead on mine. “We have to stop, Hazel.”

  “Yeah,” I said, even though I totally disagreed. “But we should do this again,” I said quickly, suddenly panicking this might have been a one-time thing for him.

  He licked his bottom lip, and I wondered if he tasted me. “We should definitely do this again.”

  A knot in my chest released at his words. And with it, apparently, the floodgates. “Cruz, I really like you,” I confessed.

  “Not like a brother or a cousin, right?” he asked, trying to keep it light, but I heard the uncertainty there, the need for reassurance. I was happy to give it. If we’d be doing that again, and it made me as wild each time, I wanted to make some things clear up front.

  “No, the guys were right. I’ve been crushing on you for a long time, Cruz. I like kissing you. And I like you. So that means if we keep kissing, I want you to be my boyfriend.”

  He pulled me so close our bodies were flush against each other, and I could feel every inch of him. “I want that so badly, Hazel. You, yeah, I like you too. A lot. It sounds dumb but, I just thinking you’re the coolest fucking girl. You’re such a badass. And you’re so confident. And sexy.” He stopped himself, closing his eyes, and blushed. I fought a smile.

  “It’s okay, Cruz. You are too.”

  A little laugh escaped his lips and just the heat from his mouth on my lips gave me tingles everywhere.

  “So are we doing this? Telling the guys?”

  “Hell yeah. But first I want to hit up that rope swing.”

  When we came around the oak tree, we were greeted by cheers from four guys. This was going to be one hell of a summer.

  About Ali

  Ali has always loved to read, especially when there's a happily ever after, but found that there weren't enough books out there featuring girl athletes. So, she decided to work on that. Like the heroines in her books, Ali is an athlete, with running and skiing her favorite sports these days. Ali hails from Vermont and now lives in her own happily-ever-after in Colorado with her husband, boy-girl twins, and golden retriever Pancake. When she's not pursuing an outdoor adventure, Ali's less healthy passions include ice cream, coffee, and beer.

  Get to know Ali Dean by following her on any of her social media and author links below.

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  Until James

  Aurora Rose Reynolds

  Catch a glimpse of Wes and July’s adoption journey.

  1

  July

  “No. Absolutely fucking no,” Wes says, and I glare at him from across the kitchen. “Don’t give me that look, babe.” He glares back at me, and I hate to admit his is better than mine. He’s perfected it since we got together.

  “It’s just a weekend,” I point out, and his eyes narrow even more.

  “You are not going to fucking hang out in the middle of the desert near Area 51, just because some idiot thought it would be cool to start throwing an annual party there.”

  “I want to go.”

  “No.”

  “You do know you’re my husband and not my father or boss, right?” I ask, getting pissed, half tempted to chuck the coffee cup I’m holding at his head.

  “You’re not going, July.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do, Wes,” I hiss, unwilling to back down. Not now that he’s told me no like I’m a child instead of talking to me about this like I’m his wife and a grown woman.

  “That ring on your finger says otherwise, baby.”

  I press my lips together, not wanting to say something I know I’ll regret, but keep glaring at him. Not that it does me any good. Damn, I really need to practice my intimidation skills.

  “I gotta get to the shop.” He walks toward me, cups my jaw, then lifts my chin so he can press his lips to mine. “Don’t be mad.”

  “You’re going to be late,” I warn, and his eyes search mine for a long moment.

  “I love you.”

  I jerk my chin up, and his sigh sounds full of frustration.

  Once he’s gone, I turn to look out the window over the sink, hating that he left when I’m mad at him but too stubborn to call him and apologize or tell him I love him too. The argument was stupid, and it’s not even about going to the Area 51 party. It’s about the fact that another round of fertility treatments didn’t work.

  For the last six years, we’ve been trying to have a baby, and every single month, no matter how much I pray or what I do, I have yet to get a plus sign. My infertility has been wearing on me, especially with my sisters, cousins, and friends having little ones. I hate that I can’t be completely happy for the people who mean everything to me when they tell me they’re pregnant. I hate that my own sadness is preventing me from just living in the moment with them and enjoying their happiness.

  Before I start crying like I’m prone to do anytime I think about having a baby, I dump what’s left of my coffee in the sink, then walk through the house to our bedroom and finish getting ready for work.

  2

  July

  I walk out of the exam room, feeling depressed after dealing with my last client�
�� a woman who brought in her twelve-year-old cat that only has one tooth left, is no longer eating, and will most likely not live past the weekend. I love my job, but there are days when I wish there was someone else to give the bad news I too often have to deliver.

  “July.”

  I look up and watch my mom walk toward me with a wide smile. “Hey, Mom. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see if you had time to get lunch,” she says, wrapping her arms around me in a warm hug that relieves some of the tension I’m feeling.

  I look at my watch when she lets me go and start to tell her I don’t have time but stop when Kayan joins us. “You just had a cancelation. Go on and have lunch with your mom.”

  “Are you sure?” We’ve been slammed for the last two months, ever since one of the other local vets retired. Which is another reason I wanted to go to the Area 51 event—I need a break from the stress of work, a weekend to just relax and have fun.

  A weekend where I’m not thinking about the fact that, no matter what I do, I can’t have a baby with my husband.

  “Go hang with your mom,” Kayan repeats, pulling me from my thoughts by wrapping her hand around my upper arm. “I’ve got you covered until you get back.”

  “Thanks.” I give her a smile then look at my mom. “I need to go to my office and drop off this stuff.” I motion to the papers in my hands. “Give me five and I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure, honey.” Her expression softens. “Take your time.”

  With one last smile directed at her and Kayan, I head to my office and slip out of my white coat. I grab my purse and check my cell for messages, finding I have none, which means Wes is probably still mad at me. With no other choice, I meet my mom in the lobby, plaster on my best fake happy face, and take her hand as we leave the office and head to her car across the lot.

  Buckled in, I look out the window as she drives past the park next to my vet office and watch a mom embrace her little boy with a hug. Watching her kiss his little head, tears tighten my throat and burn the back of my eyes as I close them.

  “Talk to me,” Mom says quietly as she parks in front of one of the local cafés. I turn to look at her.

  “About what?” I raise a brow, feigning ignorance.

  “I love you, honey, with everything I am, and part of me loving you is knowing when something is going on. I want you to talk to me.”

  “I’m fine,” I lie, like I’ve been doing for a while now.

  She grabs my hand and attention, and I hold my breath as our eyes lock. “Honey, you’re not okay. You haven’t been okay for a long time.”

  “Mom—”

  “Are you and Wes all right?”

  My nose stings with unwanted tears. “We’re good.” I love him more than I ever thought possible, and our love has only grown each and every day. Our issues are not ours; our issues are mine, because every single month, I wait for the impossible to happen, and when it doesn’t, I lose a little more of myself. I know for him it doesn’t matter if we ever have a child, but for me, it does. I want to be a mom. I want to share the love we have for each other with another living, breathing soul. I want a family of my own.

  “Sweet girl, is it about—”

  “Please don’t,” I whisper, my breath catching in the back of my throat. I know she’s thinking about my latest round of IVF and how it turned out.

  “Okay, honey, I won’t talk about it, but you have to know you are so loved, so, so, so loved. Nothing is going to change that.”

  “I know.” I do know that, but that doesn’t change the fact that I feel like I’m broken, like there’s something wrong with me. No matter what I do, there is a constant pain in the middle of my chest and a hole in my heart that seems to be impossible to fill.

  “I’m here anytime you need to talk, vent, or cry. I won’t ask questions or give my opinion, but I’m here for you, honey, no matter what.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I mean that. I’m lucky to have the support of my family, so very lucky to have them and Wes telling me every day how much they love me. I don’t know what I would do without them. I don’t know what I would do without the love I feel from them.

  “Let’s just enjoy lunch,” Mom announces, and I nod then close my eyes when she touches her hand to my cheek. When the warmth of her palm drops away, I pull in a deep breath then follow her out of the car and into the café for lunch, wondering how much longer I can keep pretending I’m okay when I’m not.

  3

  July

  Lying on the couch with my Kindle in my hand and Juice curled asleep on my stomach, I hold my breath when I hear the door open. I haven’t talked to Wes all day, which isn’t normal for us. We usually message each other on and off just to check in. I keep my eyes focused on the words of the book I’m currently in the middle of reading, even though I’m not seeing them, as his presence fills the room.

  “We need to talk.”

  At those three words, my insides tighten to the point of pain, and I drop my Kindle to my thigh, attempting to focus on his expression and not how handsome he is with a few days of stubble, wearing a tight, white shirt, and jeans that fit him perfectly.

  “I talked to a friend of mine today.” He prowls toward me then sits on the edge of the coffee table, and I notice a stack of papers in his hand. “I love you. You know that, right?” he asks.

  I nod, unsure where this conversation is going.

  “I’m done, baby, done losing you a little each month, done with the pain and heartache.” He looks away, and my heart breaks a little more. “As long as I have you, I don’t care about anything else. I wish it was that simple for you, but I know it’s not.” He looks at me, and even though he’s better at hiding his pain, I still see it. And recognizing it, I feel guilty I’ve been so caught up in my own feelings that I haven’t thought about how this is affecting him. “These—” He holds up the papers in his hand. “—are the application for an adoption agency. I want us to fill them out and get the ball rolling on the process.” He holds them out, and I take them then rest them against my chest. “I can’t spend the rest of my life seeing you in pain, baby, and it’s up to me to do whatever I have to do to make you happy. So I hope— No, I pray you’ll find it in you to help me fill those out so we can start to move forward again.”

  He gets up then leans over me, cupping my cheek. “I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world, and your happiness is what matters to me,” he murmurs, and then he touches his lips to my forehead, lets me go, and leaves the room. With tears filling my eyes, I hold the papers up before me, but I can’t make out anything through the tears blurring my vision.

  Adoption. I drop the papers to my chest, wondering if it’s time to start wishing on a new star.

  4

  Wes

  “Okay.”

  I turn my head to watch my wife walk toward me and wonder for the millionth time how the fuck I got so goddamn lucky. I don’t deserve her; I’ve never deserved her love, her unwavering loyalty, or the beauty she brings into my life every day. But somehow, I’ve been given the gift of her, and not a day goes by in which I don’t pray I never lose her. That said, I feel like I’ve been slowly losing her for months now.

  “Okay?” I raise one brow, urging her to continue.

  “I’ll fill them out. Or we’ll fill them out together. It’s time I stop hoping for what may never be and focus on what I really want. I want to be a mom. I want you to be a dad. I want a family with you.”

  “Baby.” My chest aches. I hate that she’s hurting, been hurting with something that is out of my control.

  “I know this hasn’t been easy on you. I know each negative test and each and every month that goes by that we don’t get what we want has affected you as much as it has me. I’m upset with myself for not seeing that.”

  “Baby.” I start to tell her that it’s okay, but she touches a finger to my lips stopping me.

  “I love you, and I want you to be happy too, and I know part
of your happiness is you making me happy. So I agree it’s time. It’s time for us to move on. Time for us to start our family.”

  I study her, unsure if she’s really ready for this. “Are you sure, baby?”

  “Yes. I’m ready.”

  Thank fuck. I took a shot in the dark bringing her the adoption application. I wasn’t sure where her head was at on the matter, but after listening to her cry most of the night, I was sure I fucked up. Still I wasn’t lying. I can’t watch her slip through my fingers.

  “Come here, baby.” I hold out my arms, and she comes toward me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “I love you.”

  She tips her head back and rests her chin against my chest. “I know, and I love you too. I’m sorry for not being better about showing you how much.”

  “You show me every day, baby.” I slide my hand up her back and curve my fingers around her neck. “I know how stressed you’ve been, and I understand why, but you gotta know I’m so fucking proud of you for being so strong.”

  “I haven’t been strong.” She drops her head forward and I lose her eyes.

  “You say that, but you haven’t given up. You’ve never even mentioned giving up, no matter how hard this has been on you.” I force her to look at me and see her eyes have started to fill with tears.