What Are Friends For?. Naomi Horton

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СКАЧАТЬ Conn nodded absently, watching her as she started gathering up the papers scattered around his chair. “Yeah, the coffee’s on.” Remembering, with sudden, unexpected vividness, of what it had been like with her.

      One weekend of heaven...that’s how he’d always thought of it. Three days of a kind of closeness he’d never experienced before or after. It was supposed to have been a getaway ski weekend up to Mount Baker. Just the four of them—Andie and her boyfriend, he and Sharon Newcombe.

      Then Andie and her boyfriend had split up two days before they were all supposed to leave. Conn had said there was no reason why she shouldn’t still go, considering there was plenty of room in the cabin they’d rented, and Sharon had exploded, shouting something about three being a crowd just before she stormed out, doors slamming.

      So he and Andie, both smarting from love gone wrong, had gone by themselves, although neither of them had anticipated the outcome. They’d come together like gasoline and flame and even now, twelve years later, he could feel his body stir slightly with just the memories of it.

      It had been a weekend of magic. But then they’d gotten back to the city and college and somehow—he never was sure why—the magic had vanished in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Sharon had turned up, contrite and apologetic, and it had been Andie’s turn to go storming off in a flurry of door slamming. He’d gotten that all sorted out about the time that college had let out, and Andie had headed down to San Francisco to take a summer job with her brother’s investment firm.

      He’d planned to go down after her and talk things out. But he and his college buddy, Bill Soames, started playing around with a new idea they’d had for a prototype computer, and pretty soon the summer was gone. When Andie came back, things seemed stilted and awkward between them. And then, out of the blue, she’d decided to move to New York and they’d all but lost touch with each other for almost a year.

      There was a hiss of sparks in the fireplace as a log settled, and Conn blinked, impatiently shaking himself free of the memories

      Andie had tossed his divorce papers on the hearth and Conn looked at them dispassionately. Strange to think it was over that easily. Three years of great sex and a few good times, nearly a year of separation while their lawyers hammered out a deal...then a handful of papers and he was single again.

      It made him laugh for some reason, although God knows it wasn’t even remotely funny. Still grinning humorlessly, he stood up and stretched until his muscles popped. Andie was nowhere to be seen but he could hear her in the kitchen. Suddenly he was starved. He picked up the bottle of Scotch and capped it tightly, then grabbed the half-empty glass and followed the clatter.

      She was taking plates out of the dishwasher and stacking them on the counter. Conn paused by the end of the counter to watch her, enjoying the play of faded, soft denim across the rounded contours of her trim little bottom. That was one thing he didn’t see enough of these days. Hiring Andie to work with him had been smart in a lot of ways, but it also meant that she spent most of her time with him dressed in business garb.

      Which was a damned shame, he found himself suddenly thinking. A real damned shame...

      He set the glass on the counter, then slipped both arms around her and nuzzled the side of her throat. “You know what I was just thinking?” he purred against her ear.

      “I’m afraid to ask.”

      “I was just thinking that we could take the day off. The Becktron deal can wait a day or two—if anything, it’ll just make Desmond Beck more agreeable.” Her skin was slightly salty, and Conn ran the tip of his tongue around the lobe of her ear, feeling her give a tiny start. He wondered why he’d never done this before. Hell, it wasn’t as though the idea hadn’t occurred to him now and again. But it just never seemed...well, right, somehow, making a pass at your best friend.

      “Connor...” There was a hint of alarm in her voice.

      “I have another idea, too,” he murmured, running one hand gently up under her sweater and settling his palm on warm, bare flesh, caressing her gently.

      “Conn...” She’d stiffened at the first touch of his hand on her abdomen, as though not entirely believing what he was doing.

      “We could go to bed for an hour or two,” he whispered, slipping the fingers of his left hand under the waistband of her jeans while letting his right glide up to lightly touch her breasts through silk and lace. They were warm and full and he remembered how sensitive they’d been those long twelve years ago, how she’d groaned softly when he’d—

      “Connor...!” Breathless with surprise, she recoiled back against him.

      “God, you feel good,” he growled, filling his hands with the incredible softness and warmth of her. “I’d forgotten how good you feel, Andie.” Nuzzling her throat, he splayed his fingers across her belly and pulled her against him, pressing gently against her, already fully aroused.

      “Remember what it was like that weekend up at Mount Baker?” He felt her breath catch very slightly and smiled, running his fingertips along the edge of her bra and hoping she still wore the kind that fastened in front, smiling again when he discovered that she did. “We could have that kind of magic again, Andie. We could—”

      “Conn, wh-what are you doing?” Her voice was just a dazed whisper.

      “What the hell do you think I’m doing?” he asked with a throaty chuckle. “It’s been a while, but I think it’s called foreplay....”

      He thought about what it had been like, making love to Andie that first time, wild and vital and so hungry for each other they’d practically gone up in smoke.

      Twelve years later, and he could remember that first long silken slide into heaven as though it had happened no more than an hour ago. Could still hear the soft noise she’d made deep in her throat, the way her body had taken him, welcomed him, loved him as he’d pressed deep, deep...slaking himself in the hot, satin depths of her.

      Conn groaned and moved against her. The catch on her bra gave way easily. He caressed her breasts, the nipples hard against his palm, and he could hear her moan very softly as he rubbed them, teased them.

      She’d grabbed his wrist and he felt her fingers tighten convulsively. He remembered what it had been like with her twelve years ago, how she’d gasped with pleasure the first time he’d taken one taut nipple into his mouth, sucking it, caressing it with his tongue.

      He remembered other things, too...touching her for the very first time, fingers seeking, finding, teasing. The way she’d pressed her thighs together, embarrassed and a little uncertain, until finally, with a soft sigh of raw pleasure, she’d relaxed and had let him ease his hand under the narrow bikini panties she’d been wearing. She’d been fire and honey and hot silken need, and in no time at all she’d arched against his hand, eyes wide with shock and delight.

      The knot in his belly tightened, and he moved against her again, pressing himself against her round, denim-clad bottom and feeling his own breath catch. He slipped the metal button on her waistband free and tugged the zipper down impatiently, slipping his hand inside to cup the feminine curve of her belly before sliding down and beneath the band of her panties. “Andie, I want you....” he groaned, moving evocatively against her.

      “Connor!” The word was little more than a gasp. “P-please!”

      Growling СКАЧАТЬ