Breakfast in Bed

chapter 9


RICH SPENT MOST OF THE NIGHT DANCING WITH BECCA when she wasn't dancing with Jeff Parker and a few of the other people from his department. The fact that she danced more than one dance with Jeff really set Rich's teeth on edge. Sure, he and Jeff played basket ball together a few times, but it wasn't as if they were buds—not that Rich would put up with one of his best friends holding Becca the way Jeff was. Time to cut in.
Rich tapped on Jeff's shoulder and smiled back at Becca who looked happy to see him. When Jeff didn't automatically let go of Becca, Rich consoled himself with getting even on the basketball court next week. "Go find your own date to dance with. Becca's with me." He'd said it as a joke, but if Jeff had waited another second to respond, it would have been no laughing matter.
Jeff met his eyes and seemed to get the picture. "Sure, thanks for the dance, Becca."
Becca took Rich's hand. "You're welcome."
Rich pulled Becca against him where she belonged and smiled. It wasn't as if he liked dancing, well, he never had before. Becca was easy to dance with, and she followed him perfectly—dancing with her was effortless. Besides, it was the only way he could do what he needed to do: stay an appropriate length of time so they didn't look rude and still hold her. Once he had Becca in his arms, he didn't want to let her go.
He nodded to the Stewarts as they danced by. The dean seemed suitably impressed, not that Rich had any doubts that Becca would impress them. He was surprised by how much she impressed him. He'd learned more about her tonight than he'd learned in the three weeks they'd lived together. "You never told me you have a degree in finance and economics."
"Unlike some people I know, I don't go around bragging about how many degrees I have."
"Touché. What else don't I know about you?"
"That's an impossible question to answer."
"Okay, who was your first boyfriend?"
"Robby Parsons in seventh grade. He took me to a movie, his mom drove, and we held hands."
"Your last boyfriend?" She gave him an exasperated look. "What? You know my last girlfriend, and I have no idea whose heart you broke most recently."
"What makes you think I broke his heart?"
"Because no one would be stupid enough to let you go."
"Rich Ronaldi, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were trying to separate me from my panties, if I were wearing any."
"Would that be such a bad thing?" His voice was so gravely he hardly recognized it.
"Probably."
Rich danced her into a dark corner of the dance floor and kissed her again. This time he kissed her like he'd wanted to since that day he'd woken up on top of her. When she moaned low in her throat, he pulled away.
Becca's eyes were dilated, her lips swollen, and she tightened her hold and kissed him back. When she broke the kiss, she stopped dancing and stared at him, seemingly amazed.
Rich took a much needed deep breath. "What was that for?"
Becca smiled that half smile she used only on him, and his blood pressure shot up another ten points. "I changed my mind. Let's go home."
Rich was proud that he resisted the urge to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder, and run to the car or the nearest hotel. He even took the time to stop by the table, grab her shawl, and say good-bye to Dean Stewart and Emily. The coat check seemed to take an eternity, the valet parking attendant several lifetimes. Once they got in the car, Rich was incapable of keeping his hands off Becca. Fortunately, she seemed to have the same problem. The first red light they hit, he leaned over and kissed her. By the third light, she had his tie off and his shirt opened to the navel, and he was thanking God for the easy access slit in the skirt of her dress. He was having such a good time, he wasn't sure if he should pray for red lights or not. All he knew was that he'd never gotten so worked up in a car, which was amazing, considering he wasn't in the backseat parked under the Brooklyn Bridge . He was driving.
Becca couldn't remember ever making out in a car. Rich was undeniably the best kisser she'd ever locked lips with, and what he could accomplish in the sixty seconds it took for a light to change was worthy of a standing ovation, not that he let a green light stop him.
He made quick work of parking in front of their apartment and hustled her into the building before he wedged her between him and their front door while he simultaneously kissed her, untied her dress, and unlocked the apartment. Talk about ambidextrous.
Becca fell back as the door swung open, only to find herself scooped up into Rich's arms in a move so smooth, it was right out of a sappy romance. Every time she saw some guy pick up a woman and carry her off to bed, she groaned, because really, shit like that never happened in real life. She would have told Rich to put her down if he hadn't used that opportunity to suck her breast into his mouth. Not that he would have heard her since she held both his ears. He kicked the door shut, carried her to his bedroom, and sat her down while he slid her dress the rest of the way off before laying her back on the bed.
"Your sheets are pink."
He lost his jacket, toed off his shoes, and joined her. "Grayish pink. I mixed some of my socks in with the sheets when I washed them."
He was fully clothed, unbuttoned for easy access, but still, she lay there in nothing but a thong and jeweled silver sling-backs. "You have too many clothes on. Do you really own red socks?"
"Apparently." He pulled his shirt over his head, not bothering to finish unbuttoning it, before stripping down to nothing. He looked as good as she remembered. "God you're beautiful."
"Hey, that's my line." His lips quirked as he studied her; she could almost feel the visual caress. "You are too."
Rich slid her shoes off before kissing his way up her leg. Everywhere he touched came alive, leaving her incapable of thought. By the time he tugged her thong off while he nibbled her belly, kissed his way around her tattoo, and tugged on her bellybutton ring with his teeth, she'd lost her patience and her sanity. She couldn't take much more of his kind of torture. His finger slipped inside her, spreading her wetness as he tempted and teased, driving her slowly mad without giving her even the hint of satisfaction.
Becca arched beneath him, and from the shocked look on his face, surprised the hell out of him by rolling them both over. One little move, and he'd be right where she wanted him, inside her. The feel of him long and hard and pressed against her had her on the edge. It was too soon though. She had some torturing of her own to do. She kissed him as his arms came around her, grabbed her hips, and arched to meet her.
"God, you're so wet. Bec, I need a condom, baby. Hold up."
"Not yet."
"What?" When she slid down his body and nipped his shoulder, he groaned. When she wrapped her hand around his erection, he blew out a breath and cursed. By the time she'd finished tracing his stomach muscles with her tongue, he was shaking.
"Enough. Becca, I… Oh God."
Becca nuzzled his erection, licked him from base to tip, as she traced his pulsing vein with her tongue. Tasting him, she swirled her tongue around its head and sucked him deep into her mouth as he groaned. Oh man, she missed this. Rich's hand tangled tightly in her hair, as he throbbed in her mouth. She missed this power. His every gasp spurred her on. She took him deep, and he pulled her off, tossed on her back, and she found herself covered with two hundred pounds of hard, heavy-breathing man. He kissed her long and hard, drinking her in, stealing the air from her lungs. She dragged her mouth away from his. "Oh God, Rich. Please. Now. Hurry."
Rich let out an evil laugh. "What's the rush, Becca? We have all night. And tomorrow."
He kissed her slow and sweet in direct contrast to the treatment he was giving the rest of her body. She was so close to the edge when he sucked her breast into his mouth and slid his fingers deep inside her, she had to fight the urge to come. Becca grabbed the sheets as he slid between her thighs, his mouth joined his hands, and she lost the battle.
Watching Becca come was one of the most amazing things Rich had ever seen. Sure, he'd seen plenty of other women come, but he wasn't sure if he ever really paid that much attention. He was so into it, it was all he could do to keep from joining her. He watched as she rode the wave of orgasm, and he tried to make it last. He loved how she tasted, how she sounded, and the way her body reacted to his every touch. Her skin was all pink. Her eyes were wide as he drank her in just before she screamed his name. She grabbed his hair, pulled him to her, and kissed him, sucking his tongue into her mouth with such force she had him reaching for a condom and praying to God he wouldn't embarrass himself as he rolled it on with shaking hands.
Heaven was all he could think as he slid into her. So hot, wet, and tight that it stole his breath. She bit his shoulder, wrapped her legs around him, and exploded, drawing him in deeper, milking him, driving him to the edge of madness. He clenched his jaw and withdrew, trying to slow it down, make it last, because shit, he wanted to make this last forever. When he slid back into her she met him thrust for thrust, urging him on, her heels digging into his back, her nails biting into his shoulders, and when she came again he joined her, driving into her until his arms refused to hold his weight, and he collapsed, crushing her beneath him.
"God, you are so much better than Bob."
Bob? Who the f*ck was Bob?

Becca smiled as she nuzzled Rich's neck, savoring his weight pressing her into the bed and the frantic pace of his heart against hers as they both tried to catch their breath. When he made a move she held onto him more tightly. "Not yet."
He pushed away, rolled off both her and the bed. When she saw his face she couldn't believe her eyes. To say he looked pissed would be an understatement.
"Rich?" With her next breath his face showed disgust mixed with something else. He trudged to the bathroom before slamming the door.
Becca pulled the pink sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her. She didn't bother knocking before she walked in on him. He had his hands on the edge of the counter and his head hanging down so she couldn't see his face.
"Do you mind telling me what the hell just happened?"
Tripod walked in, jumped on the counter, blurted out a meow Becca had never heard, and head butted Rich's arm. Rich turned on the water in the sink to let Tripod play before he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He had yet to look at her. When he did, she wished he hadn't. If she didn't know better she'd say he was hurt. "Rich?"
"It's not often I hear the mention of someone else's name right after I make love to a woman. I suppose you think I should be happy I'm better in the sack than some poor schmuck named Bob?"
She had no idea what he was talking about, but whatever it was, it was a big problem. "Huh?"
"I think the exact quote was 'Oh God, you are so much better than Bob.'"
Becca covered her mouth with her hand trying to hold in her laughter, but it spilled out anyway. "God, I'm sorry. You don't understand—"
"What's not to understand, Bec? What do you think this is? A freakin' Olympic sporting event? What was my score?"
She got a grip on her laughter, not that it was a funny, ha ha laughter; it was a nervous laughter. "I'd give you a 9.5 but only because you screwed up the dismount. Rich." She took a step toward him, and he stepped farther away. "Bob isn't a person."
Rich quirked a brow at her, crossed his arms, and gave her a look that dared her to f*ck with him.
"B. O. B. My Battery Operated Boyfriend." Her face was on fire, and she couldn't make herself look him in the eye. Becca never blushed before, and she certainly had no trouble talking about sex. Until now. She forced herself to meet his glare.
He didn't look like he was going to break something anymore. He looked more shocked than mad, then he let out a laugh and grinned. "Christ, I'm sure glad I'm better than a f*cking vibrator. I can't believe you were so surprised. It's not like that's much competition."
"I beg to differ. It's been two years since I found any man more attractive than Bob with a set of weak batteries."
Rich pulled her into his arms and tilted her head up so she looked him in the eyes. "We're talking a vibrator, right? Not some weird life-like doll or something?"
She nodded.
"Well, either you have met some real duds, or you've got incredibly high standards."
"Probably both."
"Only a 9.5, huh?" He ran a finger from the base of her throat down to where the sheet met her breast.
"You gotta admit the dismount was lacking. But if you make it up to me, I'll consider changing your score."
He crowded her against the counter and nuzzled her ear. "Ah, I do love a challenge."

Rich awoke with his stomach growling. He was starving, but he wasn't sure what exactly he was hungry for. He held Becca in his arms, his hard-on pressed against her. Still, a man needed sustenance, and since he noticed that Becca hadn't eaten much the night before, chances were, she needed to eat too. He slid away from her. The movement encouraged Tripod to belt out his morning request for wet food. All it took was any sign of life, and the little bugger started in. "Shhh." Rich didn't want Tripod to wake Becca so he got up, and without taking the time to dress, ran to the kitchen to feed the cat.
While there, Rich decided that bringing Becca breakfast was a great idea. She'd be suitably impressed. After all, Rich had never before brought a woman breakfast in bed so it had to mean something, plus, it would take away any excuse to leave said bed until afternoon, which, when you came right down to it, was probably the reason some guy came up with the idea in the first place.
He grabbed a couple of mugs from the cupboard and filled them with water, measured out a heaping teaspoon of instant coffee into each, and stuck them in the microwave. While he waited for them to heat, he took his stash out of the pantry. The last bag of Stella Doro biscotti. The microwave dinged. He stuck the bag under his arm before taking the two hot mugs out of the microwave and carried them into the bedroom.
Rich set Becca's coffee on her bedside table along with the biscotti and sat beside her, pushing her long choppy bangs out of her eyes. "Wake up, sleepyhead."
Becca grumbled something.
"Come on, I brought you breakfast in bed."
She cracked her eyes open, pushed herself onto her elbow, and took the cup he handed her. "Thanks."
He opened the bag of biscotti as she sat. "The breakfast of champions."
When Becca took a sip of coffee and made a face, Rich tried his to make sure it was okay. "Shit. Hold on." He took the coffee away. "I didn't heat it enough."
"You microwaved coffee?"
"Yeah, it's instant. You know, stick a heaping spoonful of instant in a cup, fill it with water, and microwave for a minute. I guess it takes longer if there are two cups. I never did two cups before."
"Lucky me."
Loud banging came from the front door. "I'll get it. You stay right where you are." Rich pulled on a pair of jeans. "Okay, okay, I'm coming. Keep your shirt on." He opened the door to Mike and Nick. Mike stepped in wearing sweats and carrying a basketball. "Hey, did you forget we're playing this morning?"
Rich rubbed his stubbled chin before scratching his chest. "Yeah, I did. Look guys, it's not a good time. I'll catch you next week." He tried herding them out the door when Mike pushed by him.
Tripod ran out of the bedroom followed closely by Becca wearing nothing but a sheet. "He's making a run for it. Close the door!" She stumbled over the sheet and came very close to losing it completely. Rich pulled her behind him as Nick slammed the door before Tripod found freedom. Mike stayed deadly silent, though when a guy looked the way he did, words were superfluous.
Nick grabbed Mike's shoulder. "Come on, bud. Time to go."
Mike shrugged off Nick's hand and stood toe-to-toe with Rich. "You're sleeping with my little sister?"
Rich didn't see much point in denying it. "Yeah, so? You're sleeping with mine."
"I married Annabelle."
"Not until after you knocked her up."
Mike moved forward. Nick grabbed him, and Becca pushed Rich out of the way. "Stop it Mike." She pounded on his chest. "You have some nerve walking into my home and talking about me as if I'm not even here. News flash: I can sleep with whoever I want."
Rich heard that, and before he could stop himself, turned her to face him. "The hell you can."
Rich had seen Becca mad more times than he cared to remember, but he'd never seen her like this. "You—" She pointed to Mike. "Need to leave before I hurt you. And as for you—" She poked Rich in the chest. "Remember what I said about Bob?"
"Yeah."
"I lied."

Rich f*cked up. With his luck, Becca was probably calling every man she knew just to show him she was capable of sleeping with anyone she wanted. Like Rich didn't know that. Christ. He wasn't an idiot, and he sure as hell wasn't blind. All he needed to do was somehow get them back to the place they were five minutes before Mike and Nick showed up.
Rich heated the coffee and knocked on her door.
"What do you want?"
Rich opened the door and peeked in. She was lying on her new bed wrapped in his pink sheet looking gorgeous. "To have breakfast in bed. I heated up the coffee, and I'll split the biscotti. Can I come in?" For some reason, a pissed-off Becca was really attractive. Her eyes sparkled, her skin glowed, and knowing she wore nothing under that sheet had Rich reminding himself he had to concentrate on something other than sex if he ever wanted to have it with Becca again.
Becca shrugged and pulled the sheet wrapped around her higher, tucking the end tightly between her breasts.
He sat beside her, set their coffees on the table, wrapped his arm around her, and went in for a kiss. She pulled her mouth away so he kissed her neck instead.
"You think you can come in here, offer me bad coffee and a bag of store-bought biscotti, and I'll forgive you for being an ass?"
Rich took her earlobe into his mouth and nipped it. "No. I figured I'd have to say I'm sorry for what I said to Mike. But I have to tell you Bec, I have a real problem when it comes to you sleeping with other guys. What happened last night was real and had absolutely nothing at all to do with my job or your art."
She scooted away from him. "Right. Tell me that if it was Gina at the benefit with you last night, we'd be together."
Well, shit. "Gina and I broke up weeks ago."
"Yeah, but you were doing your darnedest to get her back. Don't try to deny it. I have the charred underwear to prove it."
"Okay, fine. But when I did meet with her that night, I was thinking about you. I was thinking about how you're the one I want to be with. I like spending time with you, even outside of bed. You fit me better."
Becca crossed her arms. "How much does that have to do with me bailing you out of a mess with your boss?"
"As much as you sleeping with me had to do with Emily wanting to see your work."
She moved forward so they were almost nose-to-nose. "I never slept with you for any reason other than I wanted to."
"Yeah, well me too. I've wanted you since the day I first saw you. You, on the other hand, disliked me on sight."
"I didn't like the way you treated Annabelle. She isn't a child, and she hasn't been for a long time."
"I'm her big brother. I'm supposed to take care of my little sister."
"Right, so you agree with Mike coming in all pissed off because I slept with you?"
"No."
Becca picked up her coffee, took a bite out of a biscotti, and around the cookie in her mouth said, "Then you're a hypocrite."
He was tempted to lick the crumbs off her lip. "I am not. I was just checking out the guy sniffing around my little sister. After I realized he wasn't a putz like Johnny, I left him alone. It's not like I threatened to break Mike's kneecaps or anything. Besides, if a guy isn't willing to deal with a woman's family, he's not into her enough to be sleeping with her."
"Easy for you to say."
Rich took a sip of his coffee and watched her over the rim of his cup. "Meaning?"
"Nothing."
"That nothing means something."
Becca looked at him as if he was crazier than usual.
"It's one of the nine words women use. You know, like fine, whatever, don't worry about it, and nothing." She didn't say anything. She stared at him like a shrink would a psych patient in Bellevue . "In woman-speak 'nothing' means this is something big, and you'd better stay on your toes, or you'll get into a fight. The fight will probably end with the word 'fine,' which means you're totally screwed, and you should shut up."
"What does 'whatever' mean?"
"It means f*ck you."
Becca ran her hands through her hair, leaving it sticking up a little. She looked at him so sternly. The fact she wore nothing but a pink sheet and had her hair sticking up changed the picture from scary to adorable. "Where do you get this stuff?"
Rich shrugged. "I read it in an email once. But after years of studying psychology, I've found it to be completely accurate."
Becca let out a long sigh.
"Uh oh. That sigh means you think I'm an idiot, and you think you're wasting time arguing with me about nothing. Which brings us back to the fact that 'nothing' means something, so you might as well just tell me what it is so we can deal with it. Then, if you don't end up sighing again, we can get right to the make-up sex."
"Did it say that in the email?"
"No, I'm only taking this forward to a logical, yet positive, conclusion." Rich waggled his eyebrows and grinned, but the way Becca looked at him, he might as well have given her the one finger salute.
"Positive for whom?"
Rich pulled the sheet from between her breasts. "Both of us. But you'd better hurry up and tell me what the problem is. We have a lot to do today, after the make-up sex that is." He unwrapped her like a present, took the coffee out of her hands, and laid her back against the pillows. "You really need to start talking, Becca."
Her phone rang, and before he could stop her, she grabbed it and checked the caller ID. "It's Annabelle." She pulled the sheet around her as if Annabelle would see her as she flipped open her phone.
Becca knew this was coming, and she wasn't looking forward to the conversation, especially having it with Rich lying beside her. He definitely wasn't taking the hint that he should leave.
"I was wondering how long it would take for Mike to tell you."
"Not long. He's in a state."
"That's too bad for him. But Annabelle, I don't need a keeper."
"You surprised him, Bec. Give him some time. He'll be fine. Eventually. You and I are another matter entirely."
"It's not like that. Rich and I are just, you know."
"Having sex? Yeah, I'm familiar with the concept. I'm just shocked. You haven't had a date in like forever, and now you're sleeping with my brother?"
"Can we talk about this some other time?"
"He's there, isn't he?"
Becca just nodded and handed the phone to Rich. "Hi, Princess. Becca can't talk right now. We're in the middle of a quasi-fight. I gotta say though, I'm looking forward to the make-up part."
Becca couldn't hear what Annabelle said, but she could imagine it involved a death threat. Mike wasn't the only one who was idiotically protective.
"Uh huh, sure. She'll call you later." Rich flipped the phone shut. "There, I got rid of her." He turned off her phone and handed it back. "She's not expecting your call until much later."
Rich stood and finished off his coffee. "Come on, we've wasted enough time, and if we're going to leave, we better get a move on. It's a long drive." He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "We'll talk in the shower and on the way."
"Hold on. Where are we going?"
"To pick up your art. Come on Bec." He tugged the sheet from around her forcing her to pirouette. "You gotta keep up with me, babe. I don't have all day to explain this stuff. You said yourself we have to get your work out of storage, and today is as good as any. I guess since you're not talking, the make-up sex is gonna have to wait."
"I don't need you—"
He kissed her, silencing her. When he sufficiently scrambled her brain, he smiled. "Of course you don't need me, but you'll appreciate my help. I promise."
Becca let out a frustrated breath. She really hated when he took advantage of her lack of ability to think when he kissed her. It was becoming a habit. He led her, naked, to the bathroom, started the shower, and pulled her in alongside him. She'd never showered with anyone before, well, not since she was two years old, and she and her brother used to bathe together. She didn't remember it, but she'd seen pictures—not that it counted. What the heck was she supposed to do with this huge hunk of man in a little tub? He pulled her close and spun her directly under the shower. Before she knew it, he'd switched places with her, had shampoo in her hair, and was well into the lather part of lather, rinse, repeat. Only Rich added a massage to his list. "Oh, God that feels good."
He worked his way down, massaging her neck, shoulders, and back. By the time he turned her around to rinse, she didn't know if she was more relaxed or turned on. The two had seemed diametrically opposed until now.
Becca wiped the water from her eyes and opened them before grabbing his shampoo. "Your turn."
"Nope. I'm not finished with you yet." He picked up the bar of soap and started lathering it in his hands. He pulled her back to his front and began washing her chest.
All the air shot out of her lungs as he teased and pulled on her nipples. His hard sex was cradled in the crack of her buttocks, and his breathing was affected. "Okay, you'd better hurry up, and tell me whatever you need to."
"Huh?" His hands moved lower, dipping in and out of her bellybutton, sliding down her hips and back again. He might as well have been a nervous sailor the way he avoided the Bermuda triangle.
"Talk to me, Becca."
She rested the back of her head against his shoulder and arched her back, pressing her bottom against him. "Okay, sure. Where are the condoms?"
"No, baby. Not before we talk."
"What the hell do you want to talk about?"
"What you meant before when I said a guy who is sleeping with a woman should be willing to deal with her family."
The pleasantly turned on feeling disappeared with the water down the drain. She turned, looked at him, and shook her head. He put her in a no-win position. "Just because we're sleeping together doesn't mean we necessarily need to have a relationship beyond sex."
"Okay, you're right. I've had sex without a relationship before. But you and I do have a relationship beyond sex, we're friends, and we're partners. We're in this thing together."
Becca took as large a step back as she could in the tub and eyed him warily.
"You still want Emily to see your work, right?"
"Yes."
"Then that makes us a team. You and I working together to accomplish a goal." Rich took her hands and pulled her back against him, under the water.
"Our goals are different." Becca couldn't believe how thick Rich was being. He just got shot down, and he still had an erection.
Rich nibbled on her shoulder, moving toward her neck. "Yes, but they are dependent on us working together. Without that, neither of us is going to succeed."
"But our goals have nothing to do with our sleeping together."
Rich stepped away, water suddenly hit her back. "Bullshit. We have a relationship, we have sex, we have conversation, we have a lot of things."
She turned and looked him in the eye. "We're pretending to have a relationship. There's a difference."
"When you agreed to pretend to be my girlfriend, that was true. When you and I made love, all the pretending went right out the window."
"No it didn't."
Rich looked as if his head would explode. "So you'd sleep with anyone?"
She took a deep breath. No need for both of them to lose their tempers. "You know that's not true."
"Oh, okay. You don't sleep with anyone in two years except me, and it doesn't mean anything."
Becca raked her bottom teeth against the side of her thumb before she let go of it and pointed it at him. "It doesn't mean any more than you sleeping with me after just getting dumped by your last girlfriend."
Rich smiled. "Would you feel better about us if I hadn't had another girlfriend in two years?"
"Yes." She looked at him and caught her mistake. "No. I…"
Rich wrapped his arms tightly around her, drawing her close, and kissing her. He made love to her mouth, crowded her against the cold tile, and pressed his erection against her, leaving her squirming.
Rich released her mouth as he picked the condom packet off the shower caddy behind her. "I want you, Becca." He whispered in that deep gravelly voice that made her melt. "But I only make love to women I'm in relationships with. What's it gonna be?"
"Sex?" She tried to kiss him back, but he pulled away.
"Don't split hairs. Either you're with me, or you're not."
She shook her head. "Then no." She pulled the edge of the shower curtain open and got out of the suddenly cold water, grabbed her towel, and ran back to her room.