Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 04

"Open your eyes."

Sean's strained command sounded so erotic, whispered in that whiskey-rough voice. The pauses between his words were punctuated with the sounds of his body filling hers, bedsprings creaking and their mixed gasps.

Sean took her. Completely.

"That's it, baby," he growled as they crashed against each other.

A familiar, devilish smile tugged at his lips as Ana submitted to the pleasure of their union. Sean made sure she did, again and again before following her.

Sean fell from the clutches of his orgasm and eased onto his elbows. Her fingers followed the length of his spine and drew him closer. She wanted to revel in the full weight of his body cloaking hers before he rolled away.

His voice was laced with satisfaction when he spoke. "You're gonna kill me, you know that?"

She kissed a line from his jaw to his temple and smoothed back the waves of black hair above his damp brow. He tasted of hot, sweaty man. "You're most welcome, Irish." A low, sexy sound reverberated in throat before his head turned.

Ana closed her eyes as his mouth found hers. This is just a one time slip. They flew open again at the slight jerk inside her, making her hold an inhale. Sean looked relaxed, smug and as if her thoughts had rolled by for him to read. She didn't avert his intense gaze this time. Momentary silliness aside, she knew she could handle this. Read that!

Just twenty-three hours later, Sean proved he wouldn't be handled or contained. Ana wound up taking him into her bed and into her body, breaking rules two and three, every night that week. He marked her skin, her senses, her home, with his presence each time.

* * *

"You're such a bad girl."

The way Sean said it made her feel so good.

"That makes you a very lucky man," she purred in a nine-hundred-number voice.

"No argument here, that was almost as good as the real thing." He still sounded shocked that they'd had phone-sex. If someone looked up "smirk" right now, surely her face would be in the dictionary.

"Mm-hmm."

"I have a confession."

Snatched from their erotic trip down memory lane, Ana withdrew her hand from her shorts. "Okay?"

"That first time...in the kitchen."

"Yes?"

"I didn't use a condom."

Everything beneath Ana's skin sizzled at the image of his swollen length bridged intimately between them. "I remember," she said in a hushed voice.

"I've never done that before."

She wasn't following his point. "What?"

"I've never been inside a woman without protection," Sean admitted.

She recalled his panicked look that night.

"Ever?"

"Never. You're the only one."

"Oh." Wow.

There had to be a reason why, yet she wasn't sure if it was her place to ask. The question lurked in the silence that followed.

"Duncan was only eighteen when Grace was born," he started. That made Sean about fifteen when he became an uncle.

"He had a football scholarship lined up, could've easily been drafted after college, he was that good. And he gave it all up to get married and raise Grace. His entire life changed because of one time." He unloaded a heavy exhale and continued.

He told her about the reactions of both sets of parents, how his grandparents had taken in the alienated newlyweds, and the fragile peace that begun as they all rallied around the premature infant, willing her to live.

"Even if Duncan and my parents hadn't drilled it into my head to be careful...I promised myself I'd never be in that kind of situation, that I'd have kids when I was ready for the responsibility." His voice was resolute.

"I understand."

"But...I keep remembering how it felt with you...and...I wonder what it would be like...just feeling your skin around me the whole time."

"Yes," she whispered and almost lost her grip on the handset. Don't read more into it!

"I get hard when I think about what it would be like to come inside you."

Oh. My. God.

"You're getting turned on thinking about it, aren't you." It wasn't a question

"I plead the fifth."

Sean laughed a low, sinful laugh.

"If I were there, I bet I'd find a way to get you to talk," he baited. "Now we'll have to wait until Saturday."

Could've been Friday night. But no. You and your fucking rules. What happened to "let's try something new"?

"How sweet of you to remind me. If I were a bad, bad girl, I'd tell you all about the forth thing I'll do when I see you."

"Tell me about the first three."

There was total silence on the other end of the line as she told him the minute, graphic details involving number one and two.

"Sean?"

"Yes," he said in a gruff voice.

"Would you like me to show you the rest, Friday night?

Silence.

"Thank you, God!"

* * *

Saturday, September 9th, 2006. 12:48 pm

"We need to talk."

Could you be just a little more cliché?

Ana grimaced at the sound of those dreaded four words. Words that usually predicted the impending doom of a relationship. Only she wasn't in a relationship. Not really. That annoying little fact didn't ameliorate her dread over what was to happen this afternoon. She stuffed a pillow down a freshly laundered case.

Let's try this again.

"These last weeks have been great, but there's so much going on at work, I need to focus on. I don't have time..."

What complete and utter bullshit! Are you going to insult his intelligence with that drivel?

Ana snapped the flat sheet and let it float onto the bed. She remembered the passages dedicated to this sort of thing. If you must leave, it's better to do so a minute too early than a minute too late...Protracted breakups are cruel and almost always ego driven. Be gracious and let them move on, they'll thank you for it.

The sheet was as perfectly in place as her thoughts were scattered. This ambivalence was a testament to why she had to end it. She was already too attached to Sean. But Ana's say-yes-to-something-new philosophy was no match for old habits. Her renewed adherence to The Plan came at a price. As result, they'd fallen into a pattern of detached dating and hot sex, as lacking as it was generous.

The sweet moments, which first popped up often, gradually became relegated to the bedroom or wherever they'd ended up, were all but gone. The sex, while breathtaking, had become a bit soulless. She'd taken for granted just how much she'd miss the tenderness that had been there in the beginning—even if it baffled her sometimes.

Ana rounded the bed and loaded the pillows as she tried to create a better script. Something closer to the truth might work. If only it were that simple. Damn feelings. Why wasn't she one of those women who could expound on them with such ease?

"Sean, I really like you." Uh, scrap the "really". "But—" I can't do this casual summer fling anymore. I don't think I'm cut out for it. But I'm not sure you feel the same way. And I'm scared that if I let this go on much longer, it'll cut deep when it ends. "—I think we want different things and I it's best we just be friends."

Ana sighed. At least it's a step up from "we need to talk". "Crap!"

Sean would be here in about a half-hour and she still had to shower.

* * *

"Take your time," Sean called out from the living room and studied the new pictures clustered on Ana's desk. His favorite was one of Ana and her mother laughing, unaware of the camera. They looked like kindred spirits in this shot, with a bond transcending a need for shared DNA. He surveyed the more deliberate poses and compared them to his favorite photo. It was the unguarded delight in Ana's face that drew him, a look he'd once seen often, though not nearly enough these days.

Ana emerged from the bedroom in a scurry of activity. She still had the tight, flustered energy about her as when she'd hastily greeted him at the door.

"Have you seen my watch?"

She darted about in a bell sleeved top and matching opal trousers. The juxtaposition of her understated chic and the undeniable goofiness of the black fur balls covering her feet made him smile. Ana had no idea how adorable she was, nerves and all. That made her all the more beautiful.

"Ah," she said with relief and started to buckle the timepiece around her wrist. "Dammit. I can't get anything right today," she hissed.

"Let me."

Sean patiently worked the fastening.

"All set," he beamed and kissed the underside of her wrist before letting go of her hand. Ana's eyes darkened and instantly flew to his. A strange look passed over her face but it vanished before he could name it.

She may be frustratingly guarded about a lot of things but her response to his touch wasn't one of them—though she resisted in bed. They often dueled there, with Ana needing to be pushed and pushed until she relinquished her pleasure scorecard. She all but shredded his endurance. Yet when Ana finally relented and let him enjoy her...she was a wild, beautiful mess. Initially, he suspected a ploy designed to make him pursue but as he got to know her...

"I'm almost done. Let me get my shoes."

Sean took a step towards her. "We can always skip lunch and order in instead." His voice and eyes were full of intent.

"Um." Ana bit her lip and blushed, just as he'd hoped. "Stop that!" she chided, realizing she'd fallen for his teasing again. Incredible, that she could still blush after all these weeks.

"Five minutes," Sean warned as she dashed back to her bedroom. "Or I'm coming in there!" He'd have no problem making good on his suggestion, not with the strict diet of gourmet sex once or twice a week she tried to keep them on lately. Sean heard a soft thud followed by a torrent of expletives.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Ana yelled, "I'll be right out."

He went back to noting the minor changes she'd made since his last visit. While Ana favored subtlety in her appearance, her home was a study in unfettered femininity and bohemian romanticism. Flea market treasures, antiques and intricate patterns ruled the roost. Beaded necklaces draped vintage mirrors and hung from twig jewelry holders, adding pops of color and whimsy in unexpected places.

Her bedroom, awash in taupes, whites and creams, was the grand seduction. Walking into it was a visit to a Parisian courtesan's boudoir, where antiques mingled with satin pillows and fine, billowy fabrics. The canopy, with its paisley panels, transformed to her bed into a destination. It was as soft and generous as Ana sometimes pretended not to be.

His gaze fell to the picture again. This was the woman he wanted to get know, but patience wasn't always his strong suit though. It is, when you want something bad enough. His interest hadn't plateaued since they'd met. And if it was just sex, he'd have long gotten bored of its feast-famine nature and gone elsewhere. But she's everything you like in bed—maybe outside it too. Still...

Sean shoved his hands in his pockets. Time and patience...

* * *

Ana couldn't imagine taking one bite of food or sitting still for that matter. Her stomach was a river of nerves since she'd decided today was The Day. Going to lunch seemed like a fraudulent waste of their time.

"Sean, we need to—."

Ana winced. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. But Sean wasn't even listening to her, too absorbed in a phone call to notice her words. Judging from his anxious pacing and the way he repeatedly raked his hair, it wasn't a good one.

"Which one...I'll be right there...okay." He turned when the call ended and seemed startled to see her standing nearby.

The river turned into a rapid upon seeing the look Sean wore.

"What's wrong?"

"It's my Grandpa." Oceans of worry lay in his clipped words. "They think he's having a heart attack. I have to go to the hospital."

His words were like a bullet through glass, changing everything in a second. Ana fished her car keys out of her bag before he said another word.

"I'll drive."