He set it on the nightstand, then waited for her to leave the john.
She came out with her wild hair smoothed, her breath minty and a scorching anticipation in her eyes. Going in next, thinking it was the least-sexy morning after he’d ever experienced, he hastily took care of business, found mouthwash in her medicine cabinet and rejoined her in the bedroom.
“Ever hear of spontaneity?” he asked.
Her nose winkled. “Maybe when I was twenty. These days, comfort takes priority.”
Baxter soaked in the sight of her on the bed, propped on an elbow, her breasts soft and full, her legs long and lightly muscled. “You make yourself sound old when I know you’re not.”
“Twenty-eight.” She met his gaze with defiance. “Old enough to do what I want, the way I want it. And right now, I want you, here—” she pointed to the mattress beside her “—naked and willing.”
“All right,” he agreed as he stopped beside the bed. “But I have something for you first.”
With her gaze on his junk, she cooed in a silly voice, “Oh, I see what you have for me. Thank you.”
Knowing he was hard, Baxter laughed. “Actually, I meant this.” He lifted the spray bottle and held it out to her.
If he’d offered her a snake, she couldn’t have looked more wary. “What is it?”
“A personal sized, refillable, clip-on bug spray.” He showed her the flexible clip on the back. “It can go onto a belt or just the waistband of your jeans or shorts. Maybe even a purse, though I don’t think you carry one while working here.”
Silence.
Baxter looked at her face and found an expression he hadn’t seen before, sort of bemused and uncertain, and maybe...softened?
He cleared his throat. “With so many bugs around the park, I figured you could carry it on you. If another lands on you, just give it a zap and it’ll head the opposite direction real fast—”
Her body landing against his ended his explanation. He dropped the spray to the floor and closed his arms around her. “What’s this?”
She rained kisses all over his face. “That’s the nicest gift I’ve ever received.”
Frowning, Baxter tried to lean her away so he could see her face, but she clung to him. He felt her shudder, heard a sniff, and his heart damn near stopped.
“Are you crying?”
She bit his shoulder, not a gentle nip either, and said, “I’m not crying, you’re crying.” Then she laughed, and sure enough, when she leaned back to see him, tears swam in her eyes. “That really was sweet. Thank you.”
With more questions to ask, Baxter tumbled her backward into the bed and pinned her down with his body. Somehow, by the luck of fate, her legs were around him, his cock perfectly aligned with her soft, warm sex.
Maybe he didn’t have any questions after all—
“What?” Ridley smiled up at him. “You’re looking at me funny.”
So he looked funny while fighting the urge to thrust into her? Good to know.
“What?” she asked again, her hands stroking his shoulders, his neck.
Only because he thought this might be important, Baxter tamped down the lust—but it wasn’t easy. “You’re telling me that bug spray is a better gift than the usual, like flowers or dinner out?”
She snorted. “Clichéd crap. Who needs it?”
Was she wiggling against him on purpose? Maybe testing his willpower? Honest to God, it felt like he’d almost slipped into her just now.
He felt heat rising up his spine and had to concentrate hard to say, “Is that right?”
“A personal-sized defense against bugs, though...well, don’t freak out, but that’s personal. It’s for me, not just any woman, and I appreciate it.” Wearing the softest expression he’d ever seen on her, she leaned up to brush her lips over his. “And now we only have twenty minutes, so unless you plan to go bareback, how about finding a condom so we can get on with it?”
He smothered her teasing with a kiss, but damn, he was tempted. He was already right there, the head of his cock sliding back and forth against her wetness. No doubt she was on the pill, but there were other things to consider besides babies, so he did the responsible thing and moved off her, snagged his shorts, found a condom and rolled it on in record time.
When he turned back to her, she smiled, and he was on her like a marauder. Apparently, she loved it, because she opened her legs to him, then lifted to meet his first hard thrust.
Wet and hot and as ready as him.
Perfection.
He moved over her, in her, loving the clasp of her body on his erection, the way she tried to take him deeper, how she tilted her hips against him.
Every sound she made spurred him on. She was just as frantic, her hands grabbing him everywhere, her ankles crossed tight over his lower back.
“Baxter,” she demanded, panting.
He put his face in her neck, breathing her in, doing his best to hold off while ramping up the pace, the pressure.
“Baxter,” she cried again, gasping.
So close. So damn close. He ground against her.
“Baxter.” Her body bowed beneath him, her face twisted in her pleasure, muscles straining.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he growled, then he let himself go, a flood of pleasure crashing through him. He collapsed on her, but immediately flipped so she was sprawled over him.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “I’m supposed to move for work now?”
He swatted her very sexy rump and said, “We both do.”
“Next time, we gotta wake up earlier. I haven’t even had coffee!”
Next time. Nice to know she was thinking along the same lines as him. While his hand was on her ass anyway, he cuddled and asked, “Do I have to wait until 8:00 tonight?”
He felt her grin against his chest, then she lifted her head. “No.”
He smiled, too. “Want me to go grab you some coffee while you get ready?”
That sweet but perplexed look flitted over her face again. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not a woman who turns down nice offers like that, so don’t say it unless you mean it.”
He bit her bottom lip. “I mean it.” Rolling again, he put her under him. “I always say what I mean.” With one last kiss, he pushed off the bed.
They hadn’t had the talk he’d planned, Baxter thought as he dragged on his wrinkled shorts and shirt, but getting that reaction—for bug spray, of all things—was probably better anyway. The sex was definitely better.
Ridley brushed past him on her way into the bathroom. “Thank you.” He heard the shower start.
“Be back as quick as I can.” After stepping into his shoes, he headed out the door, finger-combing his hair as he walked. It was early enough that only a few people were up and about, but Maris would have the coffee ready.
They could talk anytime; tonight—or even tomorrow morning.
Thinking that, he decided he’d need to run home for a change of clothes and probably a razor.
He was just about to step into the store when the gravity of his thoughts hit him.
Mentally, he backpedaled. He couldn’t plan to stay over with her two nights in a row. He should be planning not to.
He knew where this path was headed and he didn’t want to go there. He’d already visited once, bought the T-shirt, and only sucky memories remained. Since he wasn’t a masochist, he’d decided to never head that way again. Hurt, humiliation...no thank you.
Love ’em and leave ’em. That was the safe road. The comfortable road.
He’d been coasting that way with no problems...until meeting Ridley.
Just sex, he insisted to himself as he stalked into the store, his mood taking a nosedive into bitter territory.
Sex in the evening, great.
And if they decided on sex in the morning, then he’d just arrive at the park a little earlier.
Never mind that holding her all night had been nice, she didn’t want things to get serious any more than he did.
“Good morning,” Maris said, swinging her long blond braid off her shoulder. “Coffee?”
“Two please. To go.” It struck him that Maris was always at the damn store, and she never seemed to be just arriving. No matter how early he rolled in, she was there, raring to go, never harried. “Do you sleep?”
She blinked at him. “Yes?”