Nora Roberts - Blood Brothers

She sighed again.

He trailed his hand down, tracing those fingertips over her belly, under the flannel to skim down her thigh. Up again. Down, then up, a whispering touch that eased closer, closer to her center.

And the sound she made in sleep was soft and helpless.

She was wet when he brushed over her, hot when he dipped inside her. When he pressed, he lowered his mouth to hers to take her gasp.

She came as she woke, her body simply erupting as her mind leaped out of sleep and into shock and pleasure.

“Oh God!”

“Shh.” He laughed against her lips. “You’ll wake the dog.”

He tugged down her pants as he rolled. Before she could clear her mind, he pinned her, and he filled her.

“Oh. Well. Jesus.” The words hitched and shook. “Good morning.”

He laughed again, and bracing himself, set a slow and torturous pace. She fought to match it, to hold back and take that slow climb with him, but it flashed through her again, and flung her up.

“God. God. God. I don’t think I can-”

“Shh, shh,” he repeated, and brought his mouth down to toy with hers. “I’ll go slow,” he whispered. “You just go.”

She could do nothing else. Her system was already wrecked, her body already his. Utterly his. When he took her up again, she was too breathless to cry out.

THOROUGHLY PLEASURED, THOROUGHLY USED, Quinn lay under Cal’s weight. He’d eased down so that his head rested between her breasts, and she could play with his hair. She imagined it was some faraway Sunday morning where they had nothing more pressing to worry about than if they’d make love again before breakfast, or make love after.

“Do you take some kind of special vitamin?” she wondered.

“Hmm?”

“I mean, you’ve got some pretty impressive stamina going for you.”

She felt his lips curve against her. “Just clean living, Blondie.”

“Maybe it’s the bowling. Maybe bowling…Where’s Lump?”

“He got embarrassed about halfway through the show.” Cal turned his head, gestured. “Over there.”

Quinn looked, saw the dog on the floor, his face wedged in the corner. She laughed till her sides ached. “We embarrassed the dog. That’s a first for me. God! I feel good. How can I feel so good after last night?” Then she shook her head, stretched up her arms before wrapping them around Cal. “I guess that’s the point, isn’t it? Even in a world gone to hell, there’s still this.”

“Yeah.” He sat up then, reached down to brush her tumbled hair as he studied her. “Quinn.” He took her hand now, played with her fingers.

“Cal,” she said, imitating his serious tone.

“You crawled through a blizzard to help save my dog.”

“He’s a good dog. Anyone would have done the same.”

“No. You’re not naive enough to think that. Fox and Gage, yeah. For the dog, and for me. Layla and Cybil, maybe. Maybe it was being caught in the moment, or maybe they’re built that way.”

She touched his face, skimmed her fingers under those patient gray eyes. “No one was going to leave that dog out there, Cal.”

“Then I’d say that dog is pretty lucky to have people like you around. So am I. You crawled through the snow, toward that thing. You dug in the snow with your bare hands.”

“If you’re trying to make a hero out of me…Go ahead,” she decided. “I think I like the fit.”

“You whistled with your fingers.”

Now she grinned. “Just a little something I picked up along the way. I can actually whistle a lot louder than that, when I’m not out of breath, freezing, and quivering with terror.”

“I love you.”

“I’ll demonstrate sometime when…What?”

“I never thought to say those words to any woman I wasn’t related to. I was just never going to go there.”

If she’d been given a hard, direct jolt of electricity to her heart, it couldn’t have leaped any higher. “Would you mind saying them again, while I’m paying better attention?”

“I love you.”

There it went again, she thought. Leaps and bounds. “Because I can whistle with my fingers?”

“That might’ve been the money shot.”

“God.” She shut her eyes. “I want you to love me, and I really like to get what I want. But.” She took a breath. “Cal, if this is because of last night, because I helped get Lump, then-”

“This is because you think if you eat half my slice of pizza it doesn’t count.”

“Well, it doesn’t, technically.”

“Because you always know where your keys are, and you can think about ten things at the same time. Because you don’t back down, and your hair’s like sunlight. Because you tell the truth and you know how to be a friend. And for dozens of reasons I haven’t figured out yet. Dozens more I may never figure out. But I know I can say to you what I never thought to say to anyone.”

She hooked her arms around his neck, rested her forehead on his. She had to just breathe for a moment, just breathe her way through the beauty of it as she often did with a great work of art or a song that brought tears to her throat.

“This is a really good day.” She touched her lips to his. “This is a truly excellent day.”

They sat for a while, holding each other while the dog snored in the corner, and the snow fell outside the windows.

When Cal went downstairs, he followed the scent of coffee into the kitchen, and found Gage scowling as he slapped a skillet onto the stove. They grunted at each other as Cal got a clean mug out of the dishwasher.

“Looks like close to three out there already, and it’s still coming.”

“I got eyes.” Gage ripped open a pound of bacon. “You sound chipper about it.”

“It’s a really good day.”

“I’d probably think so, too, if I started it off with some morning nookie.”

“God, men are crude.” Cybil strolled in, her dark eyes bleary.

“Then you ought to plug your ears when you’re around our kind. Bacon gets fried, eggs get scrambled,” Gage told them. “Anybody doesn’t like the options should try another restaurant.”

Cybil poured her coffee, stood studying him over the rim as she took the first sip. He hadn’t shaved or combed that dark mass of hair. He was obviously morning irritable, and none of that, she mused, made him any less attractive.

Too bad.

“You know what I’ve noticed about you, Gage?”

“What’s that?”

“You’ve got a great ass, and a crappy attitude. Let me know when breakfast is ready,” she added as she strolled out of the kitchen.

“She’s right. I’ve often said that about your ass and attitude.”

“Phones are out,” Fox announced as he came in, yanked open the refrigerator and pounced on a Coke. “Got ahold of my mother by cell. They’re okay over there.”

“Knowing your parents, they probably just had sex,” Gage commented.

“Hey! True,” Fox said after a moment, “but, hey.”

“He’s got sex on the brain.”

“Why wouldn’t he? He’s not sick or watching sports, the only two circumstances men don’t necessarily have sex on the brain.”

Gage laid bacon in the heated skillet. “Somebody make some toast or something. And we’re going to need another pot of coffee.”

“I’ve got to take Lump out. I’m not just letting him out on his own.”

“I’ll take him.” Fox leaned down to scratch Lump’s head. “I want to walk around anyway.” He turned, nearly walked into Layla. “Hi, sorry. Ah…I’m going to take Lump out. Why don’t you come along?”

“Oh. I guess. Sure. I’ll just get my things.”

“Smooth,” Gage commented when Layla left. “You’re a smooth one, Fox.”

“What?”

“Good morning, really attractive woman. How would you like to trudge around with me in three feet of snow and watch a dog piss on a few trees? Before you’ve even had your coffee?”