Straddling the Line - By Sarah M. Anderson Page 0,45
beautiful.” It was a pitifully inadequate statement of what was blindingly obvious. But it was all his brain could come up with right now.
He forced himself to pay attention when all he wanted to do was let go. She bit that lower lip when something felt extra good. She liked it when he tweaked her nipples with just a little pressure. And when she came? Ah, she shuddered to a stop and then fell forward onto him, her chest heaving. Her body clenched down on his until he had no choice but to give himself up to her.
She fit, like she was made for him.
She leaned back and kissed him as she slid off. “Good morning,” she said with a smile that was a little less sleepy, a little more coy.
“Just good? I’ll try harder next time.”
She grinned at him.
Man, what he wouldn’t give to spend the day lounging around with her, but it was Thursday. He’d already had more fun in half an hour than he normally had for the whole day. “When can I see you again?”
The way her cheeks colored that dusty pink—so freaking beautiful. “I have some meetings today, and tomorrow I have to go out to the rez.”
“What about tomorrow night? I have band practice after work, but nothing after that. You could come over.” Something in her eyes dimmed, and he realized he hadn’t asked the right question. “For dinner,” he added.
“You cook?” She looked amused—and interested.
“I’ll come up with something.” Which sounded better than, “Gina makes most of my food.” Friday was the day Gina and Pat normally came up to clean. An extra-special dinner wouldn’t be too difficult a stretch for the two of them. “We could watch a movie or something.” Or have sex again. Maybe even both.
The coffeepot beeped from the kitchen. Damn. It was already six-forty-five and he hadn’t showered yet. “I have to go to work,” he said with another quick kiss as he got out of bed. “Where do you want me to take you?”
“I don’t think the Dean of the College of Education would appreciate me showing up for our accreditation meeting wearing a motorcycle jacket,” she said with a sparkling grin. “I need to go home.”
“But you’ll come back?”
“Yes,” she said, getting out of bed and taking his sheet with her. “I’d like that.”
*
By the time Ben left her on the curb outside her apartment with a kiss, a promise to see her tomorrow night and a complicated set of instructions on where to park and how to operate the freight elevator, Josey had less than an hour to shower and get to the university.
On her way there, she called her mother to tell her she’d be back out to the school late Saturday afternoon and all day Sunday. “Oh, Ben Bolton might be coming by on Sunday afternoon,” she added as a carefully calculated afterthought.
Mom didn’t say anything for a moment. “Did you have fun?”
Fun made it sound like they’d been playing video games all night instead of having some of the hottest sex she’d ever had the joy of being a part of. “Yeah, Mom. He’s nice.”
Actually, he was incredibly complicated—she still couldn’t get her head around the magnitude of his “place”—but nice would have to do.
She had about a million questions for him—starting with why he lived in the old factory and ending with his family. When he’d dropped her off, he’d hinted about wanting to see her place, but she was too embarrassed by the postage-stamp-sized studio she called home to invite him up for a tour.
And if she was embarrassed by her apartment, how would she handle Ben seeing her mom’s house? He was a man used to the finest things in life—things that Josey did not have.
Doubt began to set in. True, both of their worlds were in South Dakota. That was more than she’d had with Matt. But the similarities ended there. He was so different from her. Sure, he made nice at the school and at the powwow—but how long would that last? How long before he began to look at her like Matt had, not even trying to hide the contempt?
Worse, how long would it be before the tribe stopped being so welcoming? How long before the whispers started, the same ones people still spread about Grandma? How long before the tribe stopped appreciating the gifts, stopped making nice for the sake of politeness and stopped even looking at Ben? How long before he became the