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Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 01

By: August_Bouvier



Happenstance*: n. (informal) a thing that happens by chance.

Kismet*: n. destiny, fate.

Did they seize an opportunity; or was it always meant to be? In the end, you decide. 

* * * * *

"What are you smiling about?"

Her smile deepened as Sean's gruff voice broke the peaceful silence. She'd come to recognize that note of contented pleasure oh-so well. Time had no meaning as she lay here blissfully exhausted, her head pillowed on his bare chest, while he absently stroked her back. 

He let out a low laugh when she drew her leg up over his thigh and gasped as she encountered his hardening shaft. The dull throbbing between her legs increased at the idea of being filled again, making her muscles clench in anticipation. It was as if he was still inside her, pinning her down, pushing into her, pushing her over the brink of pleasure with every measured stroke. She brushed her fingers across his chest in a sweeping gesture, too sated to lift her head and look him in the eye. 

"Would you've imagined that when we met, we'd be here...like this," she mused, certain of his answer. She often couldn't fully wrap her head around all that had happened; yet curled up here with Sean it felt like it was always supposed to be this way. He released a slow exhale and gathered her closer.

"Yes." 

That got her attention fast. Her eyes snapped open and she shot him an incredulous look when she saw no humor glinting in his blue eyes. "So you're telling me that that day at the bookstore...you knew we'd end up together like this?"

Sean wove his fingers through her rumpled curls; his mouth slowly eased into a grin. "I wanted to know you before the bookstore. And when we met that first time—" His other hand brushed her jaw, and he drew a thumb over her lower lip. The way his eyes followed the movement then drifted up to meet hers had her blood heating again. The smile had faded, replaced with something more predatory. "I knew I'd do anything—anything to have you."

He rolled over, taking her with him and settling above her with his hips cradled between her long legs. He laced his fingers through hers and pinned her hands above her ears. She raised her head to kiss him, her tongue gliding over his, mimicking what she wanted him to do to her when he slid into her again. 

* * * * *

Thursday, July 13th, 2006.

Sean returned the book to its rightful place, deciding it was time to leave. Simon had lingered unexpectedly to talk with the fans who'd circled him after the book discussion had ended. But she wasn't here. Why did he notice? 

Though he didn't hold any hope for her presence nor disappointment about her absence, he still scanned the collection of faces, wondering if he'd be able to recognize her instinctively. He'd caught himself doing it at all three of Simon's book events he'd attended. The habit defied logic and his attempts to suppress it. She was just words on a screen; their interaction with each other rather limited—she hadn't even posted in what...months? So what was with this fascination and why had it persisted so long? He wasn't that hard pressed to find the answer, especially now. His eyes just landed on a cute brunette in the Pop/Rock section. All he needed was five minutes...

"Don't tell me you're actually going to buy that."

The brunette's head popped up, looking surprised. "Um...I'm not sure. Why?"

He reached over and flicked the CDs forward until a duplicate copy appeared. "Because there are much better ways to spend your money." He frowned as he reread the price. "Eighteen-ninety-nine. Unbelievable."

"He's up for like several Grammys, you know." 

Sean lifted his hands in mock surrender and grinned. "If the Grammys are your guide to great music then you're covered."

The brunette dropped the offending disk back onto the shelf and smiled up at him. She struck a defiant pose, then negated it with a flip of long, brown hair. Sean's smile broadened as he recognized the age-old lure.

"Okay," she closed the distance between them and put a hand on her hip. "Since you know so much, let's see what you pick out."

"Since you set the bar so low, anything's better. Follow me. "He took the petite dynamo's hand and led her down the aisle. She watched with curiosity and amusement as he sifted through the massive selection. 

"I'm Nicole, by the way."

"Sean." He immediately went back to his task. "Ah! Here you go."

Nicole looked at the cover, then considered the back. "I've never really listened to their music."

He took a step backwards, as if she'd suddenly become hazardous material, and shook his head, his smile a teasing one. "And to think I was going to ask you for your number."

Nicole laughed. "So I shouldn't bother to give it to you then, huh?"

"It would be impolite of me not to accept it, besides I'm hoping you'll redeem yourself."

She took out her cell phone. "How 'bout we trade?"

"Sounds fair...on one condition though." 

Her eyes became inquisitive. 

"I don't want you calling me three times a day. I like to take things slow."

"It'll be hard, but I think I can manage," she retorted with laughter in her voice. She looked past his arm and he turned to see a young blonde watching them. Nicole nodded towards her. "I better go," she announced, her voice a bit reluctant. 

Sean waved to the blonde stranger, causing her to duck her head in an endearing gesture. What was it about the shy ones?

"You don't want to introduce me to your friend? Very sneaky. I'll have to remember that about you." Her blue eyes flashed with humor and interest. "Save the witty comeback for another time, your friend's waiting."

"I'll give this a try and let you know how it goes."

"Good call."

"It was really nice meeting you, Sean. Bye," she said as she waved the CD in her hand, drawing out the moment.

"Bye." He remarked offhandedly and returned to browsing. He smiled when he caught Nicole and her friend looking back at him again.

"Wow. You're good!"

He turned around to meet a pair of mischievous brown eyes and a dimpled grin. A sudden, uncharacteristic bashfulness rendered him speechless. Maybe it was because he felt like a child caught in a naughty act. Or maybe it was because she was pretty. Pretty in an unconventional way, with golden skin that suggested a diverse heritage.

He walked over to the opposing shelving unit that stood between them. She was a study in restrained elegance, but for the wild, dark brown curls defying her sleek updo to frame her face. What eyes she had. "You're a nosy little thing, aren't you?"

She shrugged off his taunt, smirking. "I couldn't help it. You put on quite the show."

"So what do you have there?" She held up a CD. 

"Not bad."

The dimple reappeared. "Gee, thanks."

He craned his neck over their barricade "What else do you have there?" She raised a book over the ledge; he took it.

"The Essence of Chocolate," he said before leafing through the pages. "You must be an amazing cook or it's been a while since you had great sex." She gaped at him. "You don't need to answer; I can already tell which one it is." She looked flustered as color rushed to her face. Flustered and pretty.

"Give me back my book." The playful note in her voice had faded a bit. Did he unwittingly strike a very raw nerve? He got a perverse sense of delight in seeing how she handled being on the other side of an embarrassing moment.

"Come and get it then," he challenged softly as he walked to the end of his aisle. Her graceful stride allowed him time to enjoy her as she came into full view for the first time.

She was tall, but not Amazonian. Her demure outfit—a shimmering amethyst blouse and grey pencil skirt with a thin black belt accenting her waist—was punctuated with a big bold ring on her left hand, sans wedding band, and a masculine looking watch. The little details were meant to catch a discerning eye. Nice. The sheer material around her neckline played up her femininity in teasing way, far sexier than any form fitting, skin baring number. Not that she needed overtly sexy clothing with that body. Unlike Nicole, there wasn't a scrap of girlish waif about her; she was all Vargas-girl-curves. His eyes drifted down to her long legs and black peep-toe pumps. Were those fishnet stockings? Now that got his attention.

"Can you hand me back my book, after you're done?" Her blasé delivery didn't match her expression, which was suddenly kind of...shy?

"Hi." He extended his hand. "I'm, Sean." Her hand connected with his and she returned his smile. Definitely shy. 

"I'm, Ana."

He offered her the book. "Here you go."

"Thank you."

"You know, today's your lucky day because I can help you with that," he said as he pointed to the book, grinning as her face overheated again. "I'd make for a good sous-chef, guinea pig or whatever you need. Wait a minute," he paused. "You didn't think I was offering to sleep with you? I don't even know you!"

Ana's eyes darted around nervously and she leaned closer. "Keep your voice down!" she hissed.

"And I'm not that kind of guy," he continued. 

She rolled her eyes in response.

"Riiight. You like to take things slow." 

Her cutting wit and flashes of shyness kept him guessing what he'd find around the corner. The day just kept getting better.

"Don't get me wrong. Fast can be fun. Lots of fun. But I prefer to take my time, and make sure I cover every little detail, especially when it's a new situation, and we're still feeling each other out. Don't you agree, Ana?" His voice was slow, deliberate, almost wicked.

"I...yes," she husked. This side of her was adorable.

"How about dinner?"

"I-I can't. I already have plans for dinner." 

She'd all but said yes to going out with him, and they both knew it. The look on her face told him so.

"I didn't mean tonight."

She crunched her lush mouth. "Okay," she halted, "I'll give you my e-mail so you won't have to worry about me calling you more than once a day after you've waited the standard three to five days to call. Or is it seven these days?"

He gave her a serious look in between programming her e-mail into his Blackberry. She shouldn't feel disappointed that he hadn't pressed for her number, but...

"I don't hang back for long when I want something enough." He paused long enough to let his words sink in. "And I promise to let you kiss me at the end of the night." He winked, and then shook his head when she started to speak. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it already. I know I have. Enjoy your dinner."

And just like that, he was gone.

* * * * *

It was approaching midnight when Ana sunk onto the inflated mattress, the book in her hands the only luxury in her sparse bedroom. She reveled in the weight of it, the sight of text and mouthwatering pictures. This love of books made her feel...connected and grounded with herself, her history. 

She remembered the other person who'd leafed through these pages: the dark haired, blue-eyed charmer in the navy business suit. There was something about a man in a suit. Something about the juxtaposition of his immaculate attire and impish charm.

He was obviously a seasoned ladies man, yet he'd had the audacity—or grace—to be sheepish at having been busted; she'd found it unexpected and...attractive. His boyish good-looks and playful warmth didn't hurt either. But knowing how these things went, she likely wouldn't see or hear from him again. Her mouth tugged upward. It had been fun though, the flirting, fun to feel that indescribable spark flare to life after so long.

It wasn't until next afternoon that she noticed the name and number scrawled on the third page. She shook her head, smiling in spite of herself.

Damn, he was good.

* * * * *

More soon,

August

*source: Oxford American Dictionary 

Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 02



Two short e-mails, four days and a phone call later, Ana's eyes flitted between the occupied tables at the tapas restaurant, her watch and the sympathetic expression on the hostess's face. 

She swept the errant strands annoying her right shoulder back into the twist above her nape. Great. Just great. He'd either left or—

"You're late."

Ana turned around, startled by the stern, deep timbre, relieved he was here. There he stood, all annoyed in a smoky grey business suit—two buttons on his white shirt undone, no tie—and insanely sexy.

"I was outside taking a call and saw you when you came in."

I'm sorry." These days, it felt like she was perpetually late and apologizing for it. "I got lost on the way here." 

Sean's brow rose.

"I'm kind of new in town and still getting my bearings." 

He considered her for a moment; his eyes warmed with approval of her wrap dress.

"It's a good thing red's my favorite color. I'll let it slide this time." 

And just like that, the day's hiccups suddenly started to fade.

"Today must be my lucky day then." 

The look on his face was skeptical, teasing.

"We'll see about that," he tossed back and gestured for her to follow the hostess.

"Thank you." 

She was pleasantly surprised when he slid back the chair for her before easing into his own across from her.

"So what's new with you?" 

"Furniture. Or the lack of it, I should say. Mine's in a warehouse, instead of on a truck because of some mix up with the delivery date." He winced sympathetically. "I get a refund and I get to camp indoors for a while longer."

"What made you decide to move here?"

Ana decided to go with the simplified version of things. 

"I was born here actually and my mom and I moved shortly after my parents split up. I used to visit my dad during holidays." 

Though that all changed after he married Gwen and they had kids of their own. The gaps between phone calls increased, while the number of cards and e-mails thinned out. Visits got postponed as "next time" and "soon" gradually stretched larger spans of time. 

Mom had repeatedly told her that the demands of Dad's coaching job were the reason for their own divorce, that he probably was spending most of his time with his football players than with her stepmother and siblings. Though there was truth to Mom's assurances, Ana had often wondered at the time, if Mom was just sparing her feelings; if Dad secretly felt differently about Sharon and Jack since they weren't adopted. But that was then...

"Moving back here has been in the back of my mind for a long time—it's the place that feels most like home to me for some reason, so here I am. What about you?"

"Born and raised here. Went to college in Boston and ended up in New York afterwards. I loved every minute of it." The wistful note in his voice piqued her curiosity about his adventures in the Big Apple, no doubt there were many. "But after a few years, I just couldn't do it anymore. I'm a California boy at heart." 

"Is your family still here?" 

Sean nodded, his eyes softened at the question. That was the moment she noticed just how vivid a blue his eyes were, even in the diffused light. Oh, my.

"My parents and my brother live close by. My sister's in Chicago." 

Their server, a cherubic brunette, interrupted to take their drink order. Sean tilted his head to read her nametag. 

"Tina," he said as his index scrolled down the menu, then turned it so she could see where his finger had landed, smiling warmly up at her. She leaned closer over him while scribbling in her notepad. "I'll have a glass of the Montecillo...and the lady will have?" 

"Mineral water—Pellegrino is fine," Ana added, anticipating the girl's next question. Sean sent her a look. "I haven't had anything since breakfast so alcohol's not a great idea," she explained before their waitress took off. His expression turned quizzical, concerned even. "It's been a crazy day—I enjoy food too much to starve myself." Girl, you're starting to babble.

"It works for you." 

"Thank you." 

The compliment warmed her, maybe too much because she found herself avoiding his gaze, feeling very much aware that she was a woman, that he was a man and that this was a date. One with the potential to be good. Ok, it's been a while, that's why you're feeling silly and self-conscious. Pull it together, you know how it goes.

"I bet you're the youngest," she interjected, before the silence stretched for too long.

"Yes," he frowned briefly before connecting to their earlier conversation. "How'd you guess?"

Ana waited as Tina set down their drinks and exchanged a smile with Sean before she promised them more time to look over the menu. "The youngest child's usually the charmer of the bunch. And it looks like you've made Tina's day."

"Jealous, much?" 

Ana chuckled, the sound matched his playful taunt.

"I'm not invested enough to be jealous." His reaction was immensely satisfying. "And even when I am, it's not my style. Just making an observation."

"So you think I'm charming, huh?" 

His blue eyes danced with mirth, his good humor infectious. Ana had to make a concerted effort not to laugh while her mouth was full of mineral water. She cleared her throat, making sure it was safe to speak. "I'm going to pass on an answer; your confidence is high enough as it is!"

"Oh, so you think I'm charming and confident. And it's been what?" Sean turned his wrist and studied his watch. "Twenty minutes?" 

"And, see? I've charmed you already," she filled in with pure sass, ready for his sharp counter. He wouldn't be able to resist.

Instead, his gaze lingered on her face. "You underestimate yourself." 

Ana swallowed at the implication of his statement. There wasn't a drop of sarcasm in his voice, no trace of impishness in those blue eyes. He merely said the words as if they were an undisputed fact. Her pulse jumped into a higher gear just long enough for her to notice. Man, he's good. 

He lifted his wineglass. "Welcome back, Ana. Here's to you feeling like you've come home."

Ana raised her glass, touched more than he could know. "Thank you. It's good to be back."

"Now back to this business of you finding me charming—" Her laughter interrupted him. "Hey now! I'm being serious here." But his eyes so weren't.

That's how the evening progressed, with Sean engaging her in playful banter, telling stories, making observations, teasing her and making her laugh. The delicate skip of piano jazz and surrounding chatter faded into a distant soundtrack. It was the lightest, most in-the-moment, she'd felt in, gosh, over a year. 

* * * * *

"So when's the last time you had a really good home-cooked meal?" Sean asked after the dishes were cleared.

Ana tilted her head, thinking. "It's been weeks? Why?" 

He leaned in, his voice hushed and conspiratorial.

"You might not know this, but there's this old tradition that when someone moves into the area you welcome them with a home cooked meal." 

Ana widened her eyes.

"No way!" She carefully scanned the neighboring faces. "But who? Who'd do it?" Sean sighed with dramatic exasperation and she glanced at him, jolting as if he'd suddenly appeared in front of her. "You?"

"See, it's just your luck that I happen to be an excellent cook."

"You know, we should get you enrolled in a self-esteem class, pronto." 

Sean laughed in spite of himself.

"There's only one way to find out then: dinner at my place on Saturday. Just tell me what your ultimate last meal would be and I'll cook it." 

Ana eyed him speculatively, then considered his request.

"Seafood lasagna," she all but purred, "with scallops and shrimp and a Bechamel sauce. My mom used to use mozzarella and a light sprinkling of Parm for the top. Oh, and her cheese biscuits were the best. So light and fluffy." Her voice twisted around the memories.

She saw the question flicker in his eyes; one he probably wasn't sure how to ask. He reached for her hand and the small gesture conveyed an understanding that words couldn't. 

"She passed away almost two years ago. My friends and family were amazing through everything. It showed me how blessed I am. And my dad and I got close again. There've been...good things." Ana felt, more than heard, the broken edge in the last two words. She ducked her head and took a soothing breath. Could anything be as good as knowing her mother was just a phone call away? 

Sean looped his fingers around hers and his thumb repeatedly swept her knuckles; her fingers instinctively curled around his. He just...listened, as if he understood that there'd been so many words offered to her, and while appreciated, that just being heard, being able to express easily—often foreign to her—was comforting enough. A comfortable silence filled the space between them.

His long fingers curved over hers before slowly letting go. "So I've got big shoes to fill then." 

"Yes," Ana nodded, grateful for the mix of levity and understanding in his voice. "Still think you're up for the challenge?" she asked, wanting to reassure him that everything was okay—with her, with them. 

"Fear of failure rarely stops me from trying something," he mused and twirled his glass before taking the final sips. "But if by some small chance I screw up, there's always pizza delivery."

"Well, if that's the case, I prefer to stay home." His look of mock indignance was priceless! "Look, you have ample time to find a restaurant that makes superb seafood lasagna. I'm even willing to pretend that I didn't notice a difference." she quipped. 

"Just for that, you're doing the dishes. And you can pretend you like it."

"Don't throw in extras to just cover your tracks. I used to clean up after my mom made it so I'll know what to look for." Needling him was such fun, especially when he was such a good sport about it—daring her, even.

"You talk a good game now, Ana. Make sure you're not complaining when you're scrubbing up at the kitchen sink."

"So much for the neighborly spirit," she remarked, her voice just shy of being droll as Tina arrived with the check. 

"Hey!" she protested as Sean immediately took it, and tucked several bills into the check-folder, handing it back to the waitress.

"Dishes," he whispered. "Besides I promised to make amends for...what was it again?" He looked to the ceiling as if the answer was floating about. "Oh yes—'devaluing your property'." 

"You did!" she giggled while trying to sound outraged.

"It got you here, didn't it?" Sean looked so entirely pleased with himself, she couldn't help but feel flattered. She felt wanted, as though spending time with her was treasured. "And seeing that you had such a great time, you should be thanking me."

Ana shook her head. "There's that self-esteem thing rearing its ugly head again. And thank you for dinner."

Tina returned to the table, happily surprised with what must be a generous tip when Sean said: "We're all set," returning the folder.

She turned to Ana. "I like your ring." 

All three pairs of eyes descended upon the peridot cocktail ring on Ana's finger.

"Thank you!" She stretched her fingers automatically, lifted by the unexpected praise, all the better because it came from a woman. "I designed it myself."

"Really? I thought it was an antique. You're a jewelry designer?"

"No," Ana said with a hint of self deprecating amusement, "it's more of a hobby." 

"It's gorgeous," Tina decreed before slipping back into professional mode. "Well, thank you both for coming." 

Ana watched as the co-ed smiled warmly at Sean, which she probably would have done regardless of the tip, for all his silent flirting. He seemed to enjoy the company of all women—period. 

"Come back and see us soon and enjoy the rest of your evening." 

Ana had a feeling Tina wouldn't be disappointed if only one of them returned.

"Careful," he warned after Tina left, "your eyes are giving you away." She feigned an innocent look and he shook his head in semi-admonishment. "Let's get out of here. I'll walk you to your car." 

Less than a handful of patrons were scattered about as they left their table. Ana looked down at her watch; they'd been here that long?

The stroll along the softly lit path to the parking lot was a short, quiet one, except for the inner voice throwing questions at her. That day in the bookstore, he'd mentioned the goodnight kiss. Was he thinking about it now? Would it be better to leave him wondering what it would be like instead? Or would he make a move? They were already near the driver's side of her car. 

"Thanks for a wonderful evening. Dinner was lovely." She actually managed to sound calm.

"And the company wasn't half bad." Sean was close but his expression was unreadable.

"Not a bit," Ana added, buying more time. Her heart expanded as he leaned forward, his hand resting just below her right shoulder. Anticipation burned the air; the wait, intoxicating. 

"Goodnight, Ana." 

A kiss on her left cheek, soft as a whisper, soft as his voice. It only sharpened the sting of wanting and not having. He pulled away but the challenge in his eyes was clear. I'm here, take what you want. Wasn't moving here all about a fresh start, being open to the possibilities and not so overly cautious? 

Fear rarely stops me from trying something.

She cupped his jaw between her palms, guiding his head down to hers. She fully intended to go for a no-holes-barred kiss, until their eyes met. Let's give Mister Brennan a dose of his own.

Ana traced the left side of his jaw, feeling the light prick of stubble beneath the pads of her traveling fingers. His pupils dilated when she caught his chin between her index and thumb, dipping into the cleft's indentation. The curve was too tempting not to kiss, so she did, right on the concave—just barely. Sean's his breath rushed over her cheek and she started to back off, not wanting to go too far, not yet sure where that line lay with him. She remembered the written advice. It's smarter to not overdo, to not overfeed...

"Goodni—" 

His hands grabbed her waist, tugging her closer. Ana startled at the sudden move, at the feel of him pressed against her. Sean took full advantage, silencing the rest of her salutation.

Ana half-expected, half-hoped, Sean would devour her, instead his lips swept tentatively over hers, like a guest waiting on the doorstep, waiting to be welcomed. But all of that changed the second her fingers sliced through his hair. 

Sean groaned and took command of her mouth, learning, sampling, teasing, over and over. He tasted of the wine he drank—woodsy oak, a hint of tart cherry—and something druggingly incredible. Ana matched him at every pass.

"Even better than I imagined," he murmured at the corner of her lips, the words so low Ana wasn't sure she understood. He claimed her mouth again, damning any ability she had for coherent thought. He lifted his head, only to return again and again, as if he couldn't get enough, as if she'd had the same effect he had on her. 

Her breath halted, then sped as he drew her forward, molding her to the solid lines of his body while he turned his attention to her neck. The contact, the light rasp of his stubble below her jaw, sent a wave of heat straight to her core. His thigh accidentally brushed between hers, the pressure just enough to make her breath catch. He did it again, lightly and deliberately, melting her, making her moan this time. 

"Too much chocolate, Ana," he remarked, his voice gravely as he looked at her. 

Pinned between Sean and her car, with his knee tucked between her thighs, Ana couldn't find it within herself to disagree. His hands traveled down the sides of her body and she watched as they worked their way through the folds of her dress. Was this really happening? To her? Here?

His fingers skimmed her bare thighs. "Those fishnets were so sexy, but I like finding you like this."

She shivered as his hands inched higher. Sean took her mouth under his while his fingers teased her mercilessly for what seemed like an eternity. Ana moaned in hot frustration, twisting in his arms, desperate to soothe the ache of desire. And then he did it. She felt his warm fingers trace the line where cotton met skin. 

"I can't wait to kiss you here," he said against her lips. His mouth muffled her cry of shocked pleasure as his hand curved over her, making her want more. He lifted his head and she knew he could feel her arousal, his eyes blazed with it. His hand fell lower. "And taste you right here," he whispered it into her ear like a naughty secret. 

Ana buried her head against his shoulder, moaning and gasping as his fingers moved back and forth. Her knees almost snapped the instant his thumb found her clit. The fabric veiling her only heightened the exquisite torture. She writhed against his hand.

"You like that, don't you," he breathed at her neck while dropping kisses there. 

Sean's fingers kept, pressing and stroking, learning what made her cry out, and what took her breath away. The sensation kept on building, verging on climax, then he suddenly broke away. Ana let out a sound of protest, looking up at him, disappointed and confused. A distant ping jumbled with the sound of her breathing.

"Come here," he said, hugging her to him. Her arms automatically snuck under his jacket to circle his waist. Her tummy jerked upon feeling the ridge pressing below her navel. "I'm sorry, honey," he started, his jaw resting against her temple. "I'll make it up to you next time." His hands roamed her shoulders and back.

Next time?

Ana settled into his embrace, enjoying the solid warmth under her hands. He felt and smelled so, so good. But delight turned to distress when a couple walked past them to the flashing lights of a neighboring car. Oh, God. How much had they seen? 

A rush of heat flooded Ana's face. She'd known this man only a handful of hours and she'd let him— In a parking lot! Caught between her sensual abandon and her sensible restraint, she ducked her head and made a fuss about fixing her clothes, uncertain what to say—if anything. But Sean would have none of it. He tilted her chin up and gave her a light kiss. 

"Next time." It sounded like a threat and a promise. There was longing in his words. He silenced any attempt at a denial with his thumb, the musk of her sex faint below her nose. "And there will be a next time, Ana," he averred, his hands bracketing her face before he lowered his head.

His tongue slipped into her mouth as if to illustrate just what the next time would entail. A series of images flashed inside her head: tangled legs, a bed, sweat slicked skin and Sean above her, filling her, making her cry out as she urged him on. The erotic snapshots imprinted on her brain, sent ripples of excitement through her body. Warm sensation pooled low, past her belly, melting her again, making her squirm and squeeze her legs.

Ana gasped when Sean broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. Brown eyes collided with blue. They stood in silence, her arms around his waist, his hands stroking her shoulders, calming her.

"Sean—"

"I think that's the first time you've said my name all night," he said on a jagged breath, a lilt of laughter in his voice. He gently tucked a curl behind her left ear. Now how was she supposed to string a thought together?

She was certain Sean was going to kiss her again; instead he brought her right hand to his mouth. The tenderness and restraint of the gesture was deeply moving and unexpected. The brush of his lips below her knuckles, innocent, but the energy between them... 

Pure heat. 

That's all Ana saw in the blue gaze pinning hers. Did he see the same reflected back when he looked at her? Something flickered in his eyes, as if deciding something, and then he dipped his head. 




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 02



"Next time I kiss you, I won't stop." 

* * * * * *

 A special thanks to those of you who sent me messages. As a new writer here, you encourage me to continue and inspire me to get better. 

All the best,

August



Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 03



Saturday, July 22nd . 6:27 pm  

Maybe she should have called Michelle. 

The thought came as Ana pressed the doorbell. She obviously needed to hear a voice of reason; otherwise she wouldn't be standing here on the doorstep, on the way to ostensibly having her first one-night stand. Tonight wasn't just about a home cooked meal and some friendly flirting. He wants to fuck you. Yet even reducing it to the crudest of terms didn't have the intended sobering effect. That was far more perplexing than agreeing to be here.

She relived every moment with him: the fun of his playful teasing, the unexpectedness of his compassion. And the chemistry. Oh, the chemistry. 

Several times, remembering his touch, the things he whispered at her neck, drove her to seek release at her own hands. Maybe this was some hormonal rebellion against more than a year of sporadic, platonic dating. Maybe.

No, she should have called Sasha. Michelle, being the happily married, hopeless romantic that she was, would have spun all kinds of flowery possibilities. No doubt she would dispense advice on how to make this into more than it was. Pragmatic Sasha, on the other hand, wasn't laboring under a blissful love spell when she'd woken up in a strange bed. But then Sasha's hookup was unexpected, shocking even—and there'd been some drinking involved—while this...

Again, she came back to the fact that she didn't want the voice of hope or the voice of reason tugging at her, confusing her. Just this once, Ana wanted to just be. No cautious analysis, no projecting of the outcomes ten steps ahead.

So yes, this was unfamiliar territory, so what? In many ways, tonight wasn't even a gamble. No, actual relationships were far more complex once imperfect people truly became intimate. There'd be none of that with Sean—as fun, sexy and charming as he was—there'd be no flowers and phone calls after they both got what they wanted. It was as simple as that.

Ana winced inwardly—somehow this seemed so cold, so mercenary, so...alien. She swallowed and took a step backwards, looking at her car. No. She was doing this. She wanted this. She'd even rehearsed a graceful exit for when the night was over. Nerves were just a natural reaction to stepping into the unknown.

The door flew open just then, catching her off guard. There was Sean, dressed in dark blue jeans, a crisp, dress shirt—untucked. 

"Wow," he echoed her thoughts while taking in her cap-sleeved, black summer dress. "You're right on time. Come in." Sean pulled her in for a loose hug. She recognized the light, citrus scent as the one he'd worn before and inhaled.

"I thought you might like this," she said as she handed him a bottle of Rioja.

"Thanks," he said almost to himself as he read the label, "I think Dionysus would be impressed." 

Ana silently thanked Simon for his love of wine and mythology. Okay, now's definitely not the time to think about Simon. 

"As long as the gods are happy," she said tightly as he led her down the foyer, passing the den and formal dining room. Ana took a deep breath. The house was filled with the most heavenly scents. 

"I was so looking forward to pizza tonight," she pouted. Sean stopped abruptly, turned and grabbed her hand, heading for the front door. 

"Don't let me stop you." He pointed to the door with an exaggerated, gallant gesture. 

Ana felt the last bit of nerves fall away. She pulled lightly on the hand holding hers and covered the doorknob with the other. She tapped her index on her chin, contemplating. "No, it would be impolite not to accept your dinner invitation. Besides, I'm hoping you'll redeem yourself for devaluing my property." 

Ana's eyes were full of mischief, just like the first time he'd seen her. That adorable dimple appeared as Sean recognized the full meaning behind her words.

He traced the shell of her ears. "Jeez! Are these mini satellites?"

She ducked her head and took a step back. "It was a compelling performance, you know." 

She was making him feel like a schoolboy and he found he rather liked it, liked that she didn't hide her interest, liked that she still challenged him. 

"How's Nicole these days?" 

Nicole? Ah. Nicole. 

"You really are a nosy little thing," he admonished playfully, hoping to regain some balance here. "I'm starting to wonder if I should have invited her instead." 

But she caught his expression, fleeting as it was. Damn, she's good.

"What? Don't tell me you've forgotten her name already. Maybe I should've worn a nametag."

"You wouldn't be easy to forget, sweetheart, not after the impression you've made." 

Her eyes widened at his veiled reference to Monday night, but she didn't look away, too coltish to turn red-faced right then. Ana's expression turned impish and she folded her arms.

"You wouldn't be trying to distract me from being disappointed in your much hyped culinary skills with all that sweet talk, now would you?"

"Nah," he said as they retraced their steps and he led her to the kitchen. "If told you I love your sense of humor, even when you're busting my chops, or that dimple when you smile—is it the left side? You might consider that distracting sweet talk, even if it's all true, because you don't accept compliments easily. But since I didn't say—" 

"You're off the hook. How do you know I don't like compliments? Every woman does."

"I didn't say you didn't like them. You just blush or get suspicious." He guessed the former when Ana thought a compliment to be sincere, the latter when she wondered at its agenda. She was charmed, yet regarded him with an equal degree of wariness.

"You figured that out in the short time we've known each other?" she asked, not confirming or denying.

"Paying attention to the little things people overlook is part of my job. I have a confession to make though."

That piqued her interest. "Oh?" 

"I find it incredibly cute when a woman blushes." She turned her head away just a tad, but he adjusted his gaze, catching her. Ah, those eyes of hers.

"Hmm. You have a thing for shy girls?"

He laughed lightly. "I have a thing for all girls. How could you blame me? Even on their worst day, women are complex, unpredictable and much more fun than men."

"Good answer, as always," Ana quipped.

Her comeback, while complimentary, landed an unexpected jab. Whatever presuppositions Ana had about him, proving her wrong was zooming up the charts. 

"It's going to be a few more minutes. How about we open this up and give it a try?" 

"Sounds good."

"Your home's lovely," she said as she took in the dark floors. Sean had a definite preference for all things natural and earthy. The colors reminded her of a day at the beach. His home looked lived in, welcoming, instead of a bachelor pit stop.

"That's a huge compliment given your line of work, you sound surprised though. What were you expecting?" 

Ana accepted the wineglass. 

"I wasn't expecting a house, to be honest. That might be my bias as an apartment dweller talking. I love it when a space has personality—not just a collection of things—it's kind of autobiographical." 

Sean gestured to the living room. "So what's my story?"

There were books spilling off the bookshelves, neatly stacked in small piles on the coffee table, in one of the leather club chairs. She couldn't resist touching the cookbooks arranged next to the phone on the bar top. 

"You're an avid reader." She loved that in a man, it almost seemed genetic.

"Yeah, it's kind of hard to miss, isn't it?" He gestured behind her. "I worked in legal for a publishing house back in New York—some of what you see is a result of that. I met a few of the authors too. They're an interesting bunch—most creative people are anyways."

"In what way?"

Sean sampled the Rioja.

"This is really good," he said, looking into the glass. "Often when you read a book, doesn't matter if it's fiction or not—and then you meet the person behind it, it surprises you that they've got this vivid imagination or viewpoint or particular way of observing. A few of the ones I met were—" he paused as if reaching, "surprisingly reticent when discussions were less about writing and more personal."

Ana nodded, reminded of Simon's demeanor when they first met. "Maybe it also has to do with expectations. We sometimes idealize people because of our interpretations of what they've created so it's rather anti-climactic when they turn out to be...human."

"Isn't that the most compelling part of getting to know someone, though? When you get past all the BS adjectives and the 'I do this' and 'you do that' and you're really interacting and finding out the ways you're alike, the ways you differ."

"Yes!" Ana enthused, liking his point-of-view...a lot. "It just takes a while to get there."

"Most people are worth the effort though, at least that's how I prefer to treat them, and if they're not, it'll show up. Either way, there's less damage control in treating someone as if they're worth the courtesy of getting to know them from the outset than not."

"That's a great philosophy to live by, more people should adopt it." She wasn't expecting that from him, yet it fit him with what she knew of him so far. 

"That's what my Grams says, she's the one who hammered it into us...now back to you telling me about me," Sean grinned and walked into the living room, a hand in one pocket, the glass of wine in the other. He had an unhurried way of moving, as if the world were waiting on him and there was no rush.

Ana strolled along the living room's perimeter. The furnishings were a mix of vintage classics and a few modern leaps. 

"You're not trendy," she commented as her fingers skimmed the back of a worn leather club chair, noting its 1930s French slung-back style. "You prefer things that are timeless, and have proven quality." 

Ana inspected silver-sage walls. The photos and folk paintings from around the world and infused the space with personality. 

She looked back at him. "You're definitely drawn to the exotic."

Sean sat on the arm of one of the club chairs; the corners of his lips tilted upwards. "That's 'cause I'm just a boring Irishman," he said in a pitch perfect Irish brogue.

Yeah riiight. Ana's eyebrows rose in response. "Oh, now the truth comes out!" 

"What about you?"

"I'm not a boring Irishman," she said with a hand on her hip.

The way his eyes swept over her shifted Ana's mood from humor to something less laid-back.

"She tells jokes!"

"So how am I doing so far with your story?" 

"Pretty accurate so far...do you think you've got me pegged?"

"Not quite...I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet." She pointed to the picture frames.

He left his perch to stand next to her. "By all means, carry on then."

"Hmm." She looked up at him, smirking. "You're sentimental." 

Sean's expression went blank. 

Ana half-chuckled, half-snorted. "You're such a guy!"

His arm nudged hers. "You say it like it's a bad thing!"

"But you can be impulsive," she added quickly, pointing to a picture of him cliff-diving before moving on, "I wonder what crazy shenanigans you and your friends were up to in these."

"I plead the fifth. Anything else?"

She pointed to the guitars guarding the corner next to the built-in bookcase. Anyone with this many CDs, albums and a gramophone didn't just love listening to music, they had to make it. "Are you in a band?" 

"I used to be, yes. It's pretty inevitable when your dad's a music teacher and requires that you play at least one instrument."

"And you chose the guitar."

"It was more by default. I'd get antsy sitting at the piano for more than ten minutes and the guitar was the one thing I was better at than my brother, Duncan. Plus, it's much easier to go around entertaining the neighborhood kids with a guitar than a piano."

"By 'entertain' don't you mean show off?"

"Ha-ha," he said in a wry tone. "You'd think you'd be just a little nicer seeing that I'm making you dinner."

"Didn't you just say you love it when I bust your chops?"

"Technically, no I didn't."

"Alright, counselor." Ana raised her hands in surrender and giggled as she voiced her next thought. "Tell me. Did you have groupies?"

"Well, I didn't find out until my senior year of high school just how much girls like guitar players and boys in a band—that was an added bonus. The 'groupies', as you put it, didn't come around until my college days."

Ana shook her head. "Such artistic commitment," she commented with feigned amazement. "Do you miss it? Playing and performing?"

"Yeah—we were pretty good," he sounded wistful. "I still play and sneak in some writing whenever I can though."

"What happened in Boston...with the band, I mean."

The look on his face more than suggested there was a story there. "I'll tell you some other time," he said before he returned to the kitchen.

"A man of mystery, are we?"

"I'll take that over sentimental any day."

Ana rolled her eyes and followed him.

"Aw. C'mon! What's so bad about being a sentimental guy?"

He looked over his shoulder, his blue eyes incredulous. In fact, he looked as though he was trying not to laugh at her query.

"When's the last time you went out with one more than once?"

Ana wasn't about to confess just how uneventful the dating department had been for some time now.

"Right," he replied to her silence.

"Well there's always a first time for everything." Ana wished she could gobble up the words the instant they tumbled out of her mouth. She cringed inwardly at how presumptuous they must sound. Even worse, Sean actually froze after setting his glass on the island.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

He reclaimed the glass, turned and tipped it in her direction. "Touché, Ana. To the first time."

She felt her face move in something akin to a smile as it overheated. The look that passed between them got her mind spinning again, got her wondering just what the first time would be like. Was he thinking the same thing too? Excitement turned to anxious questions.

Sean's glass landed on the black granite with a clink. "Hey," his voice was soothing as he came to stand in front of her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Nothing's going to happen that you don't want. Okay?"

Ana nodded, not trusting her voice, not when he was this close and looking like he was going to kiss her. His hands moved over her shoulders, squeezing lightly.

"I know what you're thinking." 

Oh, no. Yes!

Ana was dangling between desire and suspense. Sean's hands fell and his eyes sparkled in a way that was becoming familiar.

"You're wondering: 'when's he going to shut up and feed me'," he complained in a squeaky rendition of a feminine voice.

Ana laughed despite her romantic disappointment. "I can only imagine what an annoying little brother you were growing up."

He was quick to back away. "Hey! Be nice!"

"Aw," she said in a baby voice. "Does somebody need a hug?"

Sean stepped into her outstretched arms. With one hand around his waist and the other holding her glass far enough so it wouldn't spill on him, it was Ana on the receiving end of the suggested embrace. "This is no good." His head left the crook of her neck and his hands cupped her frowning face. "I need a kiss."

The last one started with a slow burn. Not this time. This kiss was uninhibited, unapologetic hunger. Sean explored her mouth as though he knew he was welcomed, as though he knew just how to please her. Or was it the other way around? They frantically took turns leading and following.

"Whoah." His voice was like brushed steel.

"Yes," Ana breathed. Words just weren't eloquent enough.

"If we keep that up—"

An extended beep coming from the oven marked their timeout. Ana shook her head, remembering another interruption.

"It's like a cosmic joke...these alarms."

Sean let out a shaky laugh. "Gives new meaning to 'saved by the bell', huh?"

Her feminine pride got a major boost at seeing him a bit unnerved. When he emptied the oven of its contents, the scent of melted cheeses and garlic wafted about.

"That smells incredible!"

"Yeah? I was...I was worried about doing this...if I should do this." This was the first time he seemed uncertain.

"You don't need to be, if it tastes as half as good as it smells, I'm sure it'll be incredible."

He shook his head.

"No—it's not that. I wondered how you would react." His expression softened yet remained tentative. "I know it was difficult for you to speak about your mom the other night...understandably so...but you stayed so... composed, which I think was partly for my sake—while I understand why, you didn't have to worry about that. Not with me."

Ana believed him.

"Death's not a topic people are comfortable with, especially on a first date. Even the people closest to me found it awkward at times, wondering what was the right thing to say or do. And often I didn't even know what to tell them or how to ask for their help. You were great in just listening...and yeah, I didn't want you to feel bad for inadvertently bringing it up."

The solemn look lifted.

"We can always go out if you prefer. Okay?"

Ana raised a hand in protest, moved by his thoughtfulness. "I'm fine. I think if this was a surprise dinner, it might have caught me off guard." She pointed to the casserole dish. "That looks way too good to pass up."

He smiled, his eyes lit up in the way they did when he was in a teasing mood. "As long as you're sure because I can always invite Nicole over tomorrow night—lasagna's even better the second day."

Ana slapped his arm. "Just for that you can do the dishes!"

Sean brought a cloth-covered basket to her nose. He suddenly became penitent. "Even though I made these just for you?"

Ana peeked under the white covering and closed her eyes as she savored the tempting aroma. "Counselor, you present a powerful argument but I still see dishes in your foreseeable future. And I do recall it was you who volunteered to cook me dinner." 

"How about I wash and you stack?"

"Um." Ana paused with her arms in an L-position and an index finger tapping her chin. "Nope."

"I'll just have to be creative in getting you to change your mind then. Help me set up outside."

"Better make it good, Sean. I'm not easily impressed."

Ana scooped up the dinnerware.

"I hope that's a promise," he insisted.

Ana was on her way to the French doors in the living when she looked back at him. "Why?"

His expression sent ribbons of awareness to her stomach.

"I love a challenge."

* * * * *

"It's absolutely gorgeous out here," Ana lauded again.

It was like dining in a jewel box—one of his niece's making, in response to the 'strip of Sahara' the backyard had become. A tall curtain of red and violet bougainvillea lined the fence. The scattered garden lights and the string-light lanterns hanging from the pergola above them made for an enchanted setting.

Ana looked up at the slivers of moonlight peeking through the thick cloud of bougainvillea above them. Even the night sounds were soothing. "This is so much better than a restaurant." She leaned back into her chair, her senses utterly content. "Well done, chef." She lifted her glass in salute.

"And you don't have to worry about getting mauled in the parking lot for other folks to see. Not that that stuff isn't fun," Sean deadpanned.

Ana tried to stop the wine from spraying from her mouth and wound up almost choking on it instead. "You okay?" he asked with concerned humor.

Ana nodded as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. "You're too much, you know that?" she reprimanded, trying to keep the laughter from creeping into her voice despite her embarrassment.

Sean grinned and something in his expression changed, making her insides tighten. "Maybe at first, but you'll get used to it." He shook his head in mock admonishment at the expression on her face. "Get your mind out of the gutter and help me clean up."




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 03



* * *

Ana fumbled around, crouched in the dark, mentally retracing her steps—well, Sean's steps—as she snatched her dress off the floor. Her relief turned to fright when she heard a click. The bedroom was flooded with light. She blinked several times while her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

"It's almost three. Come back to bed," Sean demanded, his voice gravely from sleep and hours of vigorous sex.

This was just the uncomfortable moment she was trying to avoid: the post-casual-sex-interaction. It promised to be awkward, unlike the blasé confidence she'd imagined herself capable of mere hours ago. Talk about feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Or worse yet, a thief caught trying to get away, which is what she felt like with her own dress in her hand. She stood there, feeling more naked than she already was. Naked and dumbstruck.

"As much as I like watching you, I'd prefer it if you were right here." He squinted and patted the empty space on the large bed. Ana clutched the dress to her chest.

Sean got up, gloriously, unabashedly nude, when she didn't move. He grabbed his shirt from off the floor and pulled on a pair of boxers he retrieved from a dresser drawer with a few, quick jerks. Ana fought the urge to cover when he took her dress from her and threw it on the padded bench at the foot of the bed.

"Here. Put this on."

Sean fed her right arm through a sleeve before draping the shirt around her back and repeating the procedure with her left arm. "Thank you," she whispered thickly, wishing for the witty repartee that now escaped her.

"Come." His voice was so gentle as he secured the panels with just two buttons. His lips were soft against hers when he finished the task and brushed back her hair. The sweetness of it was almost too much to bear and she felt oddly guilty. "I know just what'll help you sleep."

Ana followed him quietly, her brain still processing all that transpired just hours before.

* * * * *

The last plate was passed onto Sean before joining its friends in the dish rack. He protested at first, saying he'd been kidding but Ana insisted. Washing dishes with Sean meant spending more time with him. And more time with Sean was...everything, everything Ana wanted right now. The chatting and flirting under the pergola, lead to more chatting and flirting in the kitchen. Every accidental touch at the sink made her want a much more deliberate one. When she looked at him, she had no doubt where this night was headed.

"All done," he pronounced upon starting the wash cycle. "Couldn't have done it this fast without you."

She grinned up at him. "A simple 'thank you' will suffice."

"What if a 'simple thank you' wasn't what I had in mind?"

A hot silence fell over the kitchen. 

"That—" The way Sean was looking at her mouth stole her words. "That would be ok."

Ana didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until Sean closed the gap between them. His thumb traced her bottom lip and he tilted her chin upwards. Every second seemed infinite as his mouth moved closer. Her eyes fell shut and she waited and waited. When the kiss didn't come she opened her eyes to an intensely blue stare.

"If I do this, I don't think I'll stop...if you want to leave, now's your chance."

As if she had a choice. "I'm not going anywhere." 

His eyes searched hers. 

"Are you sure."

"Yes. What?" she supplied when his expression remained unchanged. "Do I have to convince you, now?" 

Sean looked upwards briefly. A faint spark of humor mixed with the desire in his eyes. "Hmm. You're pretty smart, maybe you'll think of something."

"You mean like this?"

Ana's hands were at his nape, pulling him in for the kiss that had been waiting. This one had a delicate beginning, with Ana catching Sean's lower lip between hers, nipping lightly at its softness. The tip of her tongue coaxed his mouth open and frolicked with his. Ana answered his groan when the dance turned naughty. The insistent hands that were roaming her back started to push against her shoulders until they broke contact.

"Wow," Sean rasped. "That's a good start. But I—"

The next kiss was outright and wickedly sexual. She quickly found herself seated on the granite edge previously digging into her back. Somewhere in the distance she heard water. Ana frowned and broke the kiss to follow the sound. Sean muttered something as one arm held her securely around her waist while the other turned off the faucet behind her.

"Wrap your legs around me," he growled.

Ana knotted her legs behind his waist, her arms around his shoulders as he transferred her onto the granite-topped island. His mouth joined hers again and his body tightened as Ana's taste flooded his senses. She was soft and hot and far beyond anything he'd imagined. And imagine he had. Sean ended the kiss.

"Okay. I'm sold," he said against her smiling lips.

Ana's fingers were at the back of his neck, already pulling him closer. But there was something he had to do.

"Wait."

Ana looked him as though he'd just spoken a foreign tongue.

"I've wanted to do this since the first time I saw you," he explained, fumbling with the pins hidden in her hair. It fell slowly around her shoulders as he unraveled the twist at the back of her head. The dark, careless waves made him think of the bedroom. "So sexy...beautiful." 

It was the way he said it, the way he looked at her—more than his words—that made her feel sexy and beautiful. The way he touched her hair... Ana wrapped her legs below his waist, drawing him to her until the denim scraping her skin set her nerve endings on fire. She bit her lip as the slight pulse below quickly changed her body from aroused to ready.

The bodice of her dress suddenly fell past her waist. "My favorite color," Sean approved in a low voice as his head descended to the red lace covering her breasts.

Ana cried out in shocked delight when Sean drew her left nipple into his mouth. The heat of his mouth through her bra coupled with the delicious pressure of his tongue circling the rigid peak was dizzying. His fingers danced around its twin, teasing the crest to almost painful hardness. Then he brought his mouth to her right nipple, repeating the ritual. She arched her back and caught her breath on a quick inhale, her fingers slicing through his black hair. Soon she couldn't withstand his attack in silence. She gasped when his fingers slid up her back to unsnap the bra. His hands quickly replaced the fabric, cupping her, stroking her with calloused fingers. Ana twisted against him, pressing her hips up into his with blatant invitation. 

"Please," she begged, sure she couldn't bear another minute of his sensual teasing.

But Sean was in no rush. 

"I love the way you fill my hands," he whispered against her neck, his tongue drawing patterns above her racing pulse. When he finally suckled her, she thought she would leap off the counter at the sensation.

Ana tried to focus her attention on him, touching him where she could: stroking his shoulders and back. She pushed up his shirt. His skin warmed her hands while she traced the slight indentations of skin over muscle. She unbuttoned his jeans tugged the zipper down with impatient fingers. It was Sean's turn to catch his breath when her hands slipped under the waistband of his briefs. His skin was burning. A thrill of satisfaction raced down her spine. She marveled at the texture of the crisp curls around the base of his shaft. He pressed forward as her fingers wrapped around the firm length to stroke him. Sean lifted his head away from nuzzling her breast and gently bit her ear.

"Sexy witch. You'll pay for that." The warning was rough and smoky.

Ana pressed a trail of light kisses along his jaw. "Promises...promises...promises," she sing-songed between each one.

Sean's hands pushed up her dress until the matching, red lace string bikini was revealed. One hand pulled the sheer fabric aside to expose her. The other stroked and separated her wet slit, exposing her swollen nub. His fingers danced around it, pressing, and rubbing until her breath became gasps for air. Ana automatically increased her swirling strokes and the feel of him expanding in her hand sent another wave of excitement through her. Boldly, she reached lower, cupping the rounded fullness below.

Sean jerked reflexively. "Fuck!"

Ana bit the irresistible cleft in his chin. "Exactly." She licked his lips.

Her ears vaguely registered a rip. The noise came again with the realization it was the sound of her panties being torn off her. A primitive, mating instinct had her pushing his jeans and briefs lower while he shoved her knees further apart with equal urgency. Ana leaned back, opened herself to him and held onto his shirt-covered shoulders. She pressed her lips shut, stifling the sounds of pleasure while Sean repeatedly brushed his cock past her clit and lower. Ana was sure she'd scream, beg or cry in frustration when he finally started pressing the tip against her slick entrance. She bit back a whimper as her body resisted his penetration.

Her breath sputtered as Sean nudged and withdrew, again and again, probing a little further, a little deeper each time. His mouth was at the base of her neck, his breath hot and strained while his cock slowly pushed into her. He looked at her, his eyes a stormy blue now. His nostrils flared and a muscle along his jaw twitched.

"You feel so...good...so...hot."

He pressed even deeper, struggling with the words as his cock reversed course gradually, only to advance again. She felt so incredibly soft and sleek around him. This felt different, she felt different because—

"Shit!"

He grabbed her hips, keeping them in place. It took several seconds for Ana to realize he'd stopped moving inside her. Slowly she raised her eyes to his shocked blue ones. 

"What?" she managed.

"Condoms—"

Ana's eyes followed Sean's to where they were joined. She swallowed as she saw how much of him she'd yet to fully take. Fortunately, he missed the gesture. 

"They're in the bedroom," he explained. Which may have well been across town the way she felt right now.

"Oh! I thought you were going to say you didn't have any," trying for humor as she inventoried the look on his face. "I-I brought some, just in case," she confessed, reliving the sting of embarrassment she'd felt looking at the flurry of prophylactic promises and descriptions while browsing at Walgreens: Ultra Ribbed, Magnum, Her Pleasure, Ultra Sensitive, Intense Sensation, Performax. Ana bit her lip. Then there was the matter of size.

Sean eased out of her and gave her a quick, hard kiss. He helped her slide her dress back into place, leaving left it unzipped, then pulled up his briefs and jeans over his hips. He drew the length of the dress over her thighs, absently stroking them. 

"Before we go any further, I want you to know you're safe with me." His eyes, like his voice, were earnest. "What about you? Could I get you pregnant?"

Ana gave his forearms a reassuring squeeze and shook her head immediately, emphatically. She didn't let on how frazzled she was at their carelessness, especially when he looked so worried.

"No...I'm on the Pill. And I'm safe too." She wanted to return to the lightness they'd shared throughout the evening before it slipped away for good. "I say we take this show to the bedroom," she said with all the bravado a girl could muster when her panties lay shredded on the kitchen floor.

The serious look faded into a smile, a very devilish one. He lifted her off the island and set her back down on the floor, taking her hand in his.

"To the bedroom, we go," he proclaimed, and tugged her behind him. 

Ana stopped him along the way. First, to kiss him after he turned off the kitchen light. Then she started unbuttoning his shirt, kissing and caressing every bit of newly exposed male skin. Her tongue flicked over each flat nipple until he growled at her.

"You're in big, big trouble now." 

Ana ran her hand over his bulging zipper. Her tongue darted across his earlobe and that made him suck in his breath. "Big, big, huh?" 

Sean playfully pushed her away then bent to toss her over his shoulder. Ana squealed even louder when he swatted her behind. "Big, big trouble." 

He flicked on the light and deposited a giggling Ana in front of his king sized sleigh bed. He grabbed her by the back of her head and by the time he was done feasting on her mouth, she was only wearing the sandals on her feet. He pulled her into him, her back pressed into his chest. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the pleasure of Sean kissing her neck. She could feel his denim-covered erection straining against the small of her back.

"Open your eyes, Ana." 

She was surprised to be staring at them in the mirror above his dresser. Ana watched as he toyed with her breasts, watched as his hands traveled down over her heated skin, watched as they slid over her trim, dark curls, watched as his fingers parted her, revealing damp pink flesh. 

"Show me how you like to be touched," he demanded while his fingers remained still.

Ana's shocked gaze flew to the reflection in the mirror. He brought her right hand to her mound, his fingers rested on hers. 

"Show me," he whispered into her right ear, kissing her there. His voice reverberated down her spine like a webbing dance. What Ana saw in the reflection emboldened her. Slowly, she began rubbing her clit in a swaying, then circular pattern. "That's it, baby," he encouraged as his fingers moved up her wrist.

"Open your eyes," he insisted when they drifted shut again. "Look at how beautiful you are."

Having a voyeur while also being one introduced a level of sexual titillation Ana never imagined before. Her mouth fell open as she watched his hand replace hers and felt a long finger disappear inside her. Her knees started to buckle when the second digit filled her and a third strummed her clit with maddening perfection. She twisted and jerked wildly against him, grateful for the support his body offered.

Sean felt her muscles start to clench and convulse around his fingers. She was making the most erotic, little sobbing sounds. It would feel so damn good when she climaxed on his dick.

"Not yet, sweetheart." 

What?

Ana whined in protest as the crescendo just within her reach, slipped away. But Sean was right there, holding her, soothing her. He kissed her temple, painting abstract patterns over her stomach with his wet fingers. "There's more for you." 

She managed a weak smile in response to his promise and turned to kiss him. "I think one of us is a bit overdressed," she murmured and shivered as his hands smoothed her back down to the curve of her ass.

"Maybe you can help me with that." He toed off his shoes and walked backwards to the side of the bed while holding Ana's hand.

She undid the remaining buttons of his shirt with unexpected deftness and pushed his jeans down past his thighs.

"Well, well, well. Look at this!" Ana beamed as she realized his black briefs were actually boxer briefs. 

But that wasn't the only surprise she encountered.

"Ohmigod! You're blushing?" As if on cue, her Irishman's cheeks reddened even more as she caressed them. "How cute!" She laughed. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

He pressed a kiss into each palm. "You ain't seen nothing yet," he promised when he recovered from her playful teasing.

Ana hooked her index fingers into the elastic waistband and pulled it forward, away from his skin. She peeked inside and arched a brow. "I'll say." 

Seconds later, Sean was naked. This was the first time she'd really seen him, all of him and she couldn't tear her eyes away. This is a man. A sparse dusting of dark hair covered the area along his breastbone. His torso and limbs were lightly defined by a criss-cross of intersecting lines. Ana's glance followed the trail of hair leading southwards. Oh. My.

"Thank you."

His gruff voice and low chuckle interrupted her reverie. It took a few seconds for the words to land and be understood.

"You're welcome—nice view," she added, admiring his backside while he pulled back the covers.

He dropped several packets onto the nightstand then looked back at her with a gaze contemplative. He reached into the drawer again and let one more fall onto the sheet, making them smile in unison. 

Sean sat on the bed. "Come here." He looked up at her then pointed to the floor. "One of us is still overdressed."

Ana bent her leg to remove her thong sandals.

"Let me," he offered, guiding her foot to the bed. "It's almost a shame to take these off," he mused while he played with the chandelier detail, "reminds me of Cleopatra." 

And right now, Ana did feel like the ultimate siren seductress. "Does that make you my servant?" She felt completely hedonistic knowing Sean could see the wet smear on her inner thighs.

"Maybe." He scooted backwards and invited her to straddle him. "Come."

Ana arched against the hand at her back, allowing him more access while he scattered kisses down her neck and lower. Heat bloomed low in her stomach as Sean licked and nibbled. The sharp pinch of his teeth around her nipple and the teasing play of his fingers between her legs sent her close to the edge again.

"Please," she choked while she clutched his shoulders. 

Minutes later, he tossed an empty foil onto the table and angled his cock to her opening. His hands held her hips but he let Ana control the pace of his penetration. He watched searched her face for any sings of unease as her slick walls slowly yielded to his blunt length. It was much easier than before yet her descent was agonizingly slow...and exquisite. He felt moisture beading off his forehead while he tried to think of something, anything, other than how good it would feel to lunge upwards right now.

"You feel so good," Ana sighed, marveling at the sensation of being filled with him.

He nipped her ear. "That's my line."

Ana's hips swayed in a languid, undulating dance that made Sean groan. She let out a surprised whimper as the angle of his cock suddenly verged on being uncomfortable. She moved, tentatively this time, and felt the promise of pleasure eclipsing the unwelcome tug. 

The next instant, Ana, felt the cool sheets under her back. She looked up to see Sean between her legs, felt the crown of his still-erect cock barely inside her. He draped her leg over his forearm and hovered above her. Her fingers caressed and pulled at his back as he pushed into her...just barely. Her head twisted on the pillow as he pressed into her and withdrew, over and over again.

"Sean," she sighed. 

Surely he knew, could feel from her wetness, that she could take him easily now. But what was previously done out of gentleness, for her comfort, was now meant to tease and torment. She bucked against him, trying to draw him in deeper but he'd anticipated the movement and caught her hip in his hand.

Ana clutched at his back as he withdrew from her. "Sean...please," she begged. 

He pressed a kiss between her breasts; she felt his smile on her damp skin. 

Sean studied her. "What do you want?"

"You—" she swallowed and stared up at him, "—inside me."

"Ok," he quipped and slid his hard tip into her. Ana's legs flailed and she moaned in frustration. "Tell me exactly what you want."

"I want you....inside. Yes!" she gasped after each mini thrust. "Fucking me."

"Like this?" 

He thrust gently, about halfway into her, and retreated.

"Mmm." 

"Or this?" 

This one was harder, deeper. Ana shrieked in delight. 

"Yesss!" 

She fisted and clawed at the sheets as he repeatedly surged inside her only to withdraw with them barely joined. The back and forth abrasion of his chest hair against her nipples sent streaks of sensation past her belly. She wrapped her legs below his hips and arched her back, while her arms circled his waist. Ana demanded every bit of Sean as he pushed her to the pinnacle with every stroke. And then she was there, holding onto him as the orgasm burst through her from the inside out, the outside in.




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 03



She was panting, coming down from the high with Sean's hips still pumping against hers. She kissed him wherever she could: his jaw, his neck, the biceps straining to keep his weight off of her. She knew by the sound of his moans and the furrow of his brows that he was fighting his pleasure.

"Look at me."

He did.

"Let go. Come," she chanted softly, over and over. And when finally he did, it was the most beautiful, unforgettable sight: Sean's body bowed above her, his head thrown back, and the call of her name rushing from his lips before he sagged heavily onto her. 

Ana stroked his back, calming him while his breath came in hot puffs above her ear. He lifted his head and raked her hair. A strange look mingled with the satisfaction that had softened his handsome features. It was as if he was reading her face and had found some answer there. The look so intimate, her chest tightened. His fingers traced her jaw with the lightest of touch, and when his lips settled over hers, Ana knew he'd been right. If she wasn't careful, she'd be in big trouble. 

* * * * *

Ana giggled and squealed while they played in the shower like naughty children. But the game had taken on a decidedly adult bent by the time they'd taken turns toweling each other. Somewhere between lazy kisses, Ana's fingers had attached themselves to Sean's cock. She looked down.

"May I?"

He grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged. "I think you already know the answer," he mumbled into the sweet spot where her neck and left shoulder met.

Ana's hand faltered as he worked his way down. "You'll distract me if you keep doing that."

He lifted his head and let go of her hair. "I wouldn't be doing it right if you weren't distracted."

She stepped back and focused her gaze his penis. Her fingertips followed the contours and traced the veins straining against his hot skin. Sean jerked when she found a particular spot on the underside. "I think you like that." He groaned when she touched him again. "I'll take that as a yes," she smirked.

"Can I kiss you?" she demanded more than asked as she sank before him. The boldness of her request could have shocked either one of them but the time for coyness had long past.

Sean grabbed the vanity. "Uh—" He started hissing. "Ah...ah-sh—it." 

His knees went weak when she licked the seam with just the right pressure, making him harden under her tongue. Worse yet, it looked and sounded like she was getting just as turned on.

"Baby...ah...baby...stop." He reluctantly pushed her shoulders back. Her enthusiasm—which surpassed her tentative technique—was lethal. "You're gonna make me come."

Ana relented long enough for his blood to cool a degree or two, only to take him to the edge of spilling in her mouth. She did it again and again. So much for tentative. Sean swore and grunted until she honored his choked pleas to stop. He pulled her up from the bath mat before everything ended too soon. He hugged her to him but jerked when her soft skin brushed against his very hard skin.

"I've never done that before." She dropped the bombshell oh-so gently at his ear with her chin on his shoulder.

"What?" It came out harsher than intended.

"I've never had a man come in my mouth before."

Sean shook his head as his imagination ran wild at the idea of being Ana's first.

Ana drew her head back, misunderstanding him. "It's true," she said quietly before going in for the kill with those brown eyes of hers. "I wonder what it would taste like...if I'd like it." 

"Jesus." 

He squeezed his eyes shut as if that could stop the x-rated movie playing behind them. He was wound so tight, he was sure he'd burst any second now. Shy girls, huh? 

"I know what you're thinking." 

Her eyes were pure mischief as she stepped back out of his reach. 

"That you're an unbelievable tease?"

"Uh-uhn. Catch me if you can!"

They raced for the bedroom, with Ana getting there first and cat crawling toward the condom littered night table. But Sean was quick to reach over her and retrieve a packet. She turned in time to see him on his knees behind her, encasing the cock she'd teased to hardness with her hands and mouth, in the transparent sheath. 

Their eyes met, Ana smiled and started crouching back, intending to face him. But Sean shoved her onto her stomach, tugged her hips up and backwards before plunging into her. Ana cried out at being stretched and filled so quickly, so perfectly. She had barely adjusted to his size when he withdrew and hammered into her again. 

Ana sank onto her elbows and braced herself for Sean's thrusts. She clutched a pillow, feeling it rub her cheek in time with their frenzied push and pull rhythm. His hand found its way to her curls, his fingers searching, stroking her sensitized clit. It didn't take long before the first spasms hit. Ana poured her cries into the pillow, muffling the sounds as she dissolved into the splintering climax.

Sean froze.

He gritted his teeth, riding out the storm as her wild pulsing squeezed and tugged his cock. He grabbed her hips, pulled her back and shoved into her violently, one, two, three times before letting out a guttural roar.

Afterwards, they slept until he reached for her again in the moonlight. This time, he drew her leg over his hip, facing her as he entered her slowly. He dropped light kisses over her face and neck between murmuring words of beauty and praise against her skin. They stroked each other with gentle fingers, both reveling in the contrasting textures of their joined bodies. The tenderness of it was utterly mind-shattering.

Ana lay awake long after, her body spent, her mind tireless and whirling with possibilities. In the midst of it all was the instinct to flee. 

* * * * *

Sean watched as Ana drank the last of the cognac-laced milk he'd warmed for her. He had to suppress a laugh when she coughed upon taking the first gulp. But his sexy witch was feeling too shy and skittish to see the humor in the situation. Right now she needed comfort. 

She'd been a docile little lamb from the moment he caught her trying to sneak out on him. Fortunately, she never made it beyond three feet of his bed. And it was good having her back in it, even if she kept the sheet tucked under her arms in some inexplicable attempt at modesty. She set the mug on the table and offered him a feeble smile. Last night hadn't gone the way he expected. Then again, Anabelle Williams wasn't what he expected.

"That was good. Thank you." 

He went over to the sliding door to close the shutters.

"Don't. The moonlight. It's pretty."

It was her first original thought since her unsuccessful getaway. She drew her knees up. Something about the gesture, the uncertainty in her face, made him want to protect her and be close. She scooted over as he got into bed with her and trembled when he settled into the pillow next to hers.

"Cold?"

"A little."

"Come here." 

He pulled her into his arms and tucked the sheet around her. He stroked her hair, her back, and her shoulders until the tension started to fade. 

"Better?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded against his chest.

Sean turned off the light and talked to her. An inconsequential conversation that required some nods and a few "mmm-hmms" on her part.

"Wait till you see what's for breakfast," he said into her hair, feeling her become more and more relaxed.

Ana's breathing changed and she remained silent. He reached for the hand nestled at his side and held it near his heart. 

"French toast," she mumbled distantly as she snuggled closer and draped her arm across his chest.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart." 

This time, they both did. 

* * *

Ana woke to the sound of the sky cracking, the smell of warm, spicy vanilla and a hint of musk. Summer storm. Breakfast. And? She stretched and was greeted with a series of aches as she rolled onto her back. She quickly realized the reason behind the last observation. 

She'd had sex. Amazing, insatiable sex. She looked at the clock twice and bolted. It was almost eleven! Ana caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and winced.

After a quick shower, she redressed, having found everything—including her hairpins—on the padded bench, everything but her panties. She blushed as she recalled their fate. She fidgeted in front of the mirror and decided the encore presentation of this getup just wasn't going to get any better.

"No regrets," she told her reflection. 

Okay, maybe a little embarrassment about her lack of finesse last night, um, this morning. But she didn't think Sean would hold it against her. He'd been so gracious and sweet and lov— Whoa! You mean affectionate. Just the effects of great, uh good, okay great, sex messing with your brain. And you're not a morning person. And you didn't get much sleep. Heck, you haven't had a goodnight's rest since you got here.

"Okay," she said to the incessant yammering going on inside her head. Chill. She would go out there, they'd engage in some small talk and exchange clichés on what a lovely night they had together. Then she'd get back to her apartment and that would be it. And this whiff of disappointment would disappear in a day or two.

Unlike her, Sean radiated energy when greeted her with a kiss on the temple. He looked boyishly fresh in his navy polo and khaki shorts, making Ana feel, well, raggedy. How unfair, she thought grumpily. Looks like he's a morning person.

"I was just coming to check on you. You slept well?"

She gave him a sheepish look. "Very well, thanks. Except for some guy waking me up at six."

"Who could blame him? If I had you in my bed, I'd keep you up all night." He paused as if in thought. "Oh, yeah...already did that."

Ana playfully nudged his shoulder. "French toast? You know, that's my favorite breakfast treat."

"Maybe I'm psychic. And here you thought I was just a great lay," he teased and laughed as Ana turned shades of cinnamon. "Too cute."

She swatted at him again, but this time he stepped out of reach.

"You're too much!" 

"I think you'll get used to it," he cocked his head towards the bedroom, leaving her in no doubt of the meaning behind his double entendre. Ana ducked her head, certain her coloring had brightened as she remembered their first time. "You know, you really are cute when you blush."

Ana eased onto a barstool. "I'm not the only one," she shot back, pleased that her wit had decided to show up again. Where were you at three am? "Why don't you hush and feed me."

Sean's brows rose suggestively.

Ana ducked her head before looking at him again. "I walked into that one, didn't I?"

He grinned. "Yeah, you did."

* * * * *

They ended up on the couch with a well fed Ana sitting on his lap. He nuzzled her neck while his hands smoothed her back and bare legs. She felt his fingers searching beneath her arm. Surely he'd had enough. She looked at him in disbelief as her dress loosened. 

"You can't want to, not after—" 

His lascivious grin halted her words.

"Well," Sean countered, "it's been a while." He gathered her close and leaned forward to toss her hairpins onto the coffee table, "you're sexy."

Her smile was shy. "Thank you. So are you."

"And irresistibly cute," he said against her mouth as he eased her backwards, "so let's see what happens."

A few kisses later, Ana was flat on her back, her dress around her waist, her bra gone and Sean looming over her. Ana writhed beneath him as his tongue circled her navel then traveled lower. She held her breath when she felt his fingers nearing her warm center and bit back a startled cry at his probing touch.

Sean lifted his head and looked at her. Something was off. He touched her again and Ana flinched.

"Did that hurt?"

"I'm fine. Don't stop." 

He wasn't convinced. He caressed her thighs until they fell open and pressed a middle finger to the soft heat of her. She tensed briefly but her face remained schooled in a neutral expression. His finger circled her opening with more pressure this time, eliciting a gasp. Sean stopped immediately.

"Admit it, Ana. You're sore."

"Just a little," she conceded in a soft voice. "It'll be okay if we go slow." 

Sean shook his head and rose up off her. He'd never hurt a woman in bed before and he wasn't about to start now, especially with this one. 

"I'm sorry I hurt you," his voice wavered, " I should've been more careful with you... I just wanted you too much."

She sat up and cupped his rough jaw. "In case you haven't figured it out, those sounds I made this morning—that wasn't me complaining."

He hugged her to him. "What am I going to do with you?"

She brought his hand to her breast. "I don't know. You seem like a fairly smart guy, maybe you'll think of something."

"Fairly smart, huh?" he miffed as his fingers traced the stiff peak. "I went to law school you know." Ana sent him a look of pure nonchalance.

Her fingers circled his wrist, arching into his hand. "How'd you do?" 

Sean nuzzled her neck. He ran a hand down the leg draped over his lap. "Why don't you take a guess." 

She ran her fingers through his hair, pressing closer. "Mmm...top twenty percent." 

He bit her shoulder playfully. "Try again," he insisted before taking a mocha colored bud into his warm mouth.

Her breath stilted as his tongue twisted and twirled. She grabbed his shoulders. What she supposed to try again? 

"I'm waiting," he reminded her with mock annoyance while kissing his way to her left breast, stopping to lick and kiss everywhere but where she needed it most.

"Kiss me first." It was part plea, part command.

His thumb danced closer and closer to her nipple with maddening slowness. "Here?" 

The touch, when it came, made her shudder and nod. 

"As you wish, Cleopatra."

He cupped her shoulders from behind and brought her to his descending mouth. His words thrilled her and she lifted his shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin against her. Soon Ana was on her back, hot and aching as Sean kissed and caressed his way down her body again. She caught her breath when she felt the rasp of his stubble on her inner thigh. The feel of his breath there washed her with heat. She felt feverish just thinking about what would come next. He was so, so close. 

But Sean delayed her pleasure. Or was he continuing his sweet torture of her?

"Guess again."

"Uh...top five," she choked as she watched his head lowering centimeters at a time. His tongue traced the seam of her sex, oh so lightly, before it flicked over her clit.

"Oh, God," Ana spat out in near wonder. It had been so long, yet she couldn't remember anything feeling half this good.

He draped her legs over his shoulders and feasted on her, gently licking her with fire. The sight of his dark head between her legs was almost too decadent for her eyes to bear. Ana felt like she'd been tossed into a sea of sensation, completely helpless to the pleasure crashing over her. 

"Sh—awn!" she wailed. Was that her own voice she heard, pleading, and screeching? 

Sean fought the temptation to push down his shorts and sink into her silky, wet flesh. Every cry, gasp and moan from Ana's lips was a siren song calling him to mate with her. And she was not only ready, she was willing despite... He tried not to think of how wonderfully snug and hot she'd felt around him when he'd almost had her in the kitchen last night; tried to block out how incredible it would feel to bury himself in her right now. 

It'll be okay if we go slow. 

Only, he wasn't sure he could. Even now, he tried to be careful when he so wanted to slide his fingers inside her and take her past her current bliss. There'd be time for that and more, he'd make sure of it.

She called out his name again, making his blood boil. He raised his head and bit her right thigh, then kissed the slightly reddened spot. He eased her limp legs from his shoulders and kissed his way up Ana's torso. He leaned on his hands above her, taking in her wild curls and pretty, flushed face. She was looking at him as if he'd invented heaven. 

"Ready to take another guess?"

Her brows drew together in confusion before she shook her head.

"Top of my class, baby," he boasted.

"What a surprise," she tossed back weakly.

"I see you need some convincing." 

Her eyes widened when he dipped his head. 

"I'm just getting started with you." 

When he was done, Ana was certain the man was a genius.

* * * * *

That night Ana found herself in bed well before ten, too tired to focus on reading and too distracted to think about anything other than the last twenty-four hours. 

He wants to see me again. 

She felt a buzz of excitement every time the thought darted into her head—which was often. In keeping with her newfound philosophy, she'd enjoy it for as long as it lasted. Of course she'd still be careful, just a little, so she'd be alright when it ended.

Of the ending she was sure. Something this hot, this fast couldn't last long. How did the phrase go again? The candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long. Well this had all the makings of an inferno.

Ana dropped the research file onto the makeshift table and turned off the lamp. She'd sort through the stuff Simon had sent her in the morning. 

He wants to see me again.

It was the first time she'd slept peacefully since the move. It was the first time in almost two years she could remember falling asleep with a smile.

* * *

The story behind Sasha's hook-up will be told. 



Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 04



Wednesday, August 16th, 2006. 6:40 pm 

"I've met someone." 

Ana moved the frames on her desk one more time. Perfect. The sudden hush wouldn't last long; she knew them all too well. 

Right on cue, Sasha used her own words against her. "You've been there, what...twenty minutes? Our girl works fast, doesn't she?!"

"Funny," Ana tried for a flat retort but their laughter was too infectious. 

Michelle giggled. "What's he like? How'd you meet? Details!" 

Ana resisted getting swept up in Michelle's hopefulness—there was no reason to, even if she wished otherwise. 

"We met at Borders while I was waiting to meet Simon."

"How are things going with him?" Michelle asked carefully. 

"They're getting better...it's still a little weird, but definitely better. It was his idea for us to meet for dinner."

"That's a good sign, Ana!" Michelle encouraged. "Maybe he just needs time to come around." 

"Time will tell."

"Tell us about your mystery man," Sasha butted in impatiently. In switching the topic, Ana knew Sasha was also trying to be diplomatic where Simon was concerned. 

"What's his name?"

Ana's smiled instantly. "His name's Sean. Sean Brennan. You'd both like him. He's such fun to be around, makes me laugh all the time."

"Jeez, it's like pulling teeth," Sasha complained. Michelle giggled in agreement. 

"Okay, Miss Walters. What do you want to know?"

"What does he look like?" 

"How old is he?" Michelle chimed in.

"What does he do?" Sasha volleyed quickly.

Michelle raised the stakes. "Is he relationship material?"

But Sasha wouldn't be outdone. "Have you two...?"

"Okay! Okay!" 

"He's thirty-two and when it comes to his looks, let's just say, Sean wasn't hiding behind a door when God handed out tall, blue-eyed and handsome." 

Her girls laughed and begged for more as she told them about their meeting in Borders. Suddenly, they were teenagers talking about a crush on an upperclassman. 

"Go on!" Michelle gushed.

"He has a very masculine presence about him, always very put together—but not a pretty-boy; it's more of an old-Hollywood vibe. Oh..." Ana remembered a trait she admired and envied all at once. "He's got great hair."

"How unfair," Michelle mock complained before Sasha started the next round.

"What's he like personality-wise? Sounds like he's flirty from what you said."

"He is, but it's not in a hound dog way, you can tell he genuinely likes women."

"Men like that are divine!" 

"And an endangered species," Sasha grumped, her stored regrets buried under sarcasm.

"Yours is out there," Michelle promised. Her bright words confirmed that she still didn't know . "If you say so, Shelly." The one thing that could cast a temporary shadow over Michelle's perpetual sunshine, was having her name abbreviated to "Shelly".

"Ana, you were saying." The schoolmarm edge effectively admonished Sasha.

"We're different in a lot of ways." 

Sasha responded first to the hesitant observation. "Oh-kay?" 

"Well, he has no qualms at all about walking up to a complete stranger and start talking to them."

"You're friendly," Michelle insisted flatly.

"Yeah, it just takes you a minute. Besides, wasn't it you who approached him? Which differences are you really worried about?"

"Well, he usually has ten things going on at once and it's like he only has two speeds: go, go, go...and sleep," Ana paused, "it reminds me a little of Chris."

"Oh," her girls chorused.

"If you can strike a balance between the two of you, you could compliment each other really well," Michelle countered. "You wouldn't fit as good with a low-key guy; you'd be bored, Ana. And maybe a hyperactive woman would get on Sean's nerves."

"Is he a party boy like Chris?" Sasha prodded.

"No." 

"Then maybe you're letting past experience define your expectations and to help you stay guarded. You're still getting to know each other. Keep an open mind and see what happens." Michelle had a point—hopeful yet valid. She doesn't give up, does she? "Tell us more about Sean." 

The mere sound of his name blanketed Ana in warmth.

"He's surprisingly intuitive for a guy and so smart; not in a snobbish, know-it-all way, more like "did you know the quirky history or detail behind this or that"?"

"Generous but not professorial," Sasha summarized.

"Right," Ana agreed, "and he enjoys trying new things."

"What else?" Michelle sounded like she was about to burst.

"He plays the guitar and he's a lawyer over at Vanguard Music."

Michelle did indeed burst. 

Ana grinned, remembering a private performance while she snuggled in a cloud of white sheets; Sean's soulful voice had been a surprise. But Ana saved the pièce de résistance for Sasha.

"He's taking me out for a ride on a Harley this weekend," she drawled.

"I could so hate you right now!" Sasha wailed.

"And now for the big question." The edge in Sasha's voice made her flush as the still image flipped back to the minutes before when there'd been no guitar. "Does he have a brother?"

They all roared with laughter.

"So?" Michelle's question was loaded with innuendo.

"Yes, we have..." Ana stopped as memories surfaced of how it had been with Sean in this very bed. She waited a heartbeat shy of being cruel. "And it's very good." 

The silence erupted in cheers and more laughter. Ana knew what was coming and decided to cut Michelle off.

"It's not serious." She often repeated those words like a prayer whenever temptation came around, taunting her with words like "future", and "relationship".

"Oh." Michelle's disappointed note was so eloquent, it floated down Ana's ear and settled in her marrow.

"Sean's a good guy...a great guy," Ana amended. She felt protective of him despite their short time together and agreed-upon casualness.

"Then what's wrong?" Ana didn't expect this from Sasha. 

"It happened really fast and even though everything's been good, I can't see it going anywhere."

"Why?" Sasha pressed.

"Would you like it to go somewhere?" Michelle just had to go there.

I don't know. Yes?

"There's so much we don't know about each other," Ana hedged. "I get confused when I think about it. This isn't me...jumping into something like this, but it feels... Just because we're not meant to ride off into the sunset together doesn't mean it's not worth enjoying. I don't...I still haven't figured it all out," Ana fumbled. "I'm being careful though." But I've been slipping up.

"Oh, hun," Michelle's voice was like a warm hug. "We just want you to be happy. You deserve it."

"Yeah," Sasha supplied, "and if this Sean guy makes you happy, then go for it, enjoy it. Be happy."

"You know, I don't think you ever sounded like this about a guy, this early on. Not even with Chris." 

There Michelle went on again, weaving fairytales out of absolutely nothing. Thank goodness, Sasha saw things just as they were.

"You know, you're right," Sasha agreed. 

Uh-oh. 

"Guys, it's not like that." A chalkiness lingered on her tongue after she said the words. Disappointment. This is foolish.

"We understand, hun," Michelle reassured. "Just don't be so quick to write him off or close the door on something that could turn out to be wonderful. Life doesn't always go the way you planned and sometimes you just have to roll with it."

"Yeah," Sasha said too heavily.

The conversation continued as though the two-thousand miles and three time zones separating them didn't exist. 

* * * Ana paced her small apartment and ended up where she started. The memories in here and all that talking about Sean made her miss him more; ridiculous, since they usually saw each other on the weekends. Or at least that's how it was supposed to go. Last week had been an aberration. Still, uncomfortable truths hovered on the edge of her awareness. Sean could never be dismissed as "some guy". And some of these feelings weren't the "just casual" type.

Her fingers outlined the corners of the note card as she sat on the bed. Her recollections of last Monday night sweetened since she found it attached to the elegantly wrapped box. The white satin ribbon around it became another treasured memento she kept stored in the night table. The gift inside the box—like the words on the note—was simple, provocative and carefully chosen to stir her, to remind her of their first time. 

A little, red bikini made of sheer tulle and lace—a far more exquisite replacement for the one he'd ripped off of her.

Her skin flushed just as it had the evening she found the package waiting at her doorstep. Knowing the gift was from Sean remedied the long workday. Within an hour of calling to thank him, he was in her apartment, not the least bit surprised and oh-so appreciative when he discovered Ana wearing the present he'd given her. 

The ringing dragged her back to now.

She lit up when she saw the familiar series of numbers on the caller ID. Two more rings and a calming breath later, she pressed "talk". 

"I miss you, sexy witch." His voice was low, hypnotic.

 I miss you too. So much.

"Me too," she remarked as if it were an offhand realization. "How's the conference going?"

"Long. Especially when all I'm looking forward to is taking you for your first ride."

"I feel like a kid getting ready for Christmas, you have no idea."

They exchanged details about their days apart. 

"I wish you were here." He sounded as restless as she felt.

Then why didn't you invite me?

Even if Sean had asked, it wouldn't have looked good to request time off with the deadline for the fall DesignHause catalogue so close. Plus, spending every day with him for three days would've violated rule number one and a whole bunch of others she hadn't even come up with yet. So why wasn't logic making sense?

"You're just saying that 'cause you're hanging out with a bunch of boring, stuffy lawyers." 

She heard a faint snort. 

"Maybe. Last time I checked, you weren't boring or stuffy."

A sudden pause stretched into several seconds as she remembered the last time he "checked": a rough, quick coupling against her front door after returning from dinner. They didn't even bother to undress. 

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" It wasn't a question, not really.

"Thinking about what?" Ana asked too innocently.

"Hmm. You against the door, me covering your mouth when you—"

"Oh yeah, I vaguely recall something about you not wanting me to forget you while you were away."

Sean's half-laugh was low rumble in her ear. "Did it work? Because it sure did a number on me." 

"Actually, I was thinking about you before you called."

"And?" He sounded all too pleased and very curious. Good.

Ana hesitated. "I was reading the note you sent me... with the underwear."

"And?"

"I remembered how you came over that night." 

Ana knew the moment his lips curled into a smile. 

"The first time we had sex at your place," he mused as if thinking out loud. "I still have reminders on my back." 

She remembered the feel of his warm skin beneath her grip. She'd been brazen and couldn't get enough. 

"And you've kept me coming back for more," he went on. And tempted her with what it would be like to wake up together, if he asked to stay, if she let him. 

Sean continued with more provocative words. They pushed Ana back to last Monday night when she'd buzzed him into her building for the first time... 

* * *

Seeing Sean so soon after Saturday had been an impulsive violation of The Plan; a list of guidelines to follow—with sanctions against spending the night, impromptu dates and consecutive nights of sex—designed make everything uncomplicated. A one time indulgence was no biggie, she reasoned as she waited for him, she'd go back to The Plan tomorrow. In fact, she wouldn't let him spend the night...even if he asked. 

Ana apologized for her apartment's not-yet-lived-in appearance. For weeks, she'd used her recent relocation as a reason to not see Sean as often as he wanted. It assuaged her unexpected guilt that it was true...partly. 

Sean hauled her against him and kissed her again and again. "I'm not here to inspect your furniture arrangement," he said along her neck.

Ana feigned ignorance. "No? Why are you here then?" 

His hands roamed her back down to the swell of her backside before pulling her up into him so she could feel the reason for his visit pressing below her navel. Sean yanked his tie and marched down the foyer after her. Anticipation grew with every step he advanced. Desire grew with every step she retreated. 

"Is your bed set up?" 

Ana nodded. 

"Good." 

Sean seized the belt of her kimono robe and pulled her to him. It came undone with one tug. His eager hands parted the teal printed satin. He bent his head, then stopped inches shy of kissing her. 

"Tease," Ana pouted. He tilted his head away as she closed the gap. 

"It's not teasing when you enjoy it," he disputed arrogantly. A light pass of his lips over hers halted her denial. "Or when I do this." 

Oh, did Sean ever deliver on his promise. The kiss was hot and hard then slow and sweet, every way Ana liked it. His hand already made its way past the lace waistband before her brain could reboot. 

"Let's see how much you hate being teased," he taunted against her mouth while he washed his fingertips with her. Ana pressed closer and sighed, so glad to be proven wrong. 

Sean's blue eyes roamed her face; the living room swayed for a moment. Knowing her arousal put the pleased look on his face was heady stuff.

"Good?" There wasn't even a pretense of doubt in his voice.

Sean claimed her mouth again with fierce skill. His fingers and tongue explored her until she had to be closer to him. Ana pushed off his navy jacket and attacked his pale, blue dress shirt. A trail of clothes marked their journey to her bed, ending with Ana laying perpendicular on it, arms open in welcome.

She gulped as Sean took the back of her knees in his hands and pulled her down to the edge of the mattress. He slowly removed his gift to her, the last article of clothing between them. Sean eased the scrap of fabric down her legs with such care, as though undressing her were a sacred ritual and not a means to sex. His hands smoothed her thighs as if she were infinitely precious. He made her feel...vulnerable. Sean must have misread her squirming because he parted her legs. 

His fingers nudged her thighs further apart. "Open wider for me." 

Ana shifted quickly, relieved the moment had returned to a simple exchange of sexual pleasure. 

But to her astonishment, he sank to the floor before her, draping her right leg over his shoulder. She protested even as her insides pulsed with arousal at the sight of him there, knowing what he was about to do, knowing how incredible it would feel when he did it. She motioned to sit up but Sean shook his head, dropping kisses along her thigh. 

"Come here," she implored with a husky whisper. "I-I want—." The words stopped when she felt his breath caress her overheated skin. 

Sean's hands and mouth remained focused on exploring her legs. Ana tried to stay still as his fingers exposed her to him. "You're not ready yet." 

She was about to disagree when he rained soft, intimate kisses up and down her sensitive, wet crease. Sean varied the pressure, rhythm and direction of his lips and tongue, making Ana writhe and whimper. One finger slid into her and then another, testing, training the taut muscles that would soon hug his cock.

"Sean?" 

Ana struggled onto her elbows as his questing fingers kept moving deeper, pressing. She bucked involuntarily when his touch curled upwards. His eyes were warm and hungry when they met hers. 

"There you are," Sean purred.

"W-what?" Ana found it hard to speak thoughts while his fingers strode back and forth, causing her to react again. This felt different.

"Lie back down, baby," he demanded softly as his palm pressed gently against her stomach. Ana frowned. Her mind, still striving for detachment and control, raced to catalogue the sensations. 

"I-I," she started to question even as her hips pressed harder against the hand working her. She jumped when his breath fanned her clit.

"Ssh. It's okay." The warm hand on her abdomen pushed hard enough so she drifted back onto the sheet while the other created new kinds of magic. "Let me make you feel good." 

And he did.

His mouth captured the swollen bud, nipping, pulling and painting it with his tongue while his fingers introduced her to the heart of her deepest pleasure. Ana crooned in surprise as sensation shattered her again and again, bathing her in liquid heat.

"Now you're ready," Sean declared against her thigh.

Ana lay panting and sated while he made his way up her body, kissing and stroking her as if he couldn't get enough. He tucked a pillow under her back and placed her in the middle of the bed for his taking. 

Kneeling between her golden legs with his hands hooked under her knees, Sean looked like a pagan warrior, ready to claim his victory. He licked his lips. Amazed, Ana found herself responding to the sight of him tasting her.

His shaft covered in glistening latex, pried her slippery folds; the engorged tip insistent at her entrance. Ana pressed her head into the mattress as Sean surged inside her. He groaned as he pulled away, the tormented look in those dark blue eyes told Ana he was close. She canted her hips to meet his next thrust, intent on pushing him to the climax he deserved. But the action sent his rigid length gliding over delicate nerves. 

Ana's mouth fell open in shock when the sweet friction made her flesh coil around him. Surely she couldn't again, so soon, like that? She moaned into his mouth as his tongue swept over hers and tasted her arousal there. The kiss was a scandalous forecast of what would come when he moved again. 

But Sean pinned her hands to the mattress then dipped his head. His hot mouth closed over her left nipple and teased it to aching hardness. Ana arched her back, offering herself. The movement drove him to that perfect place again. Ana whimpered in delight then frustration when Sean remained still inside her. 

She needed to be fucked. Hard, fast...she didn't care...it just had to be now. Sean caught her hips and quieted her.

"Sean, I need—"

"I know. Me too." 

His palms took his weight and settled next to her shoulders. She held onto the backs of his arms, bracing herself as he withdrew. The hair on his legs sent shivers across her thighs.

He shook his head; his blue eyes and knowing smile went straight to her soul. "This won't be a fast ride, sweetheart." 

Sean adjusted the angle of his strokes, repeatedly aiming for that secret spot. Ana sucked in her breath and bit her lower lip. The steady, relentless back and forth of his cock felt so good right there; it was almost too good.

"Sean!" It was half plea, half shout. 

"Don't—" he demanded as he pushed into her, "—fight it," he bit out as his retreating stroke set her blood on fire again, making her cry out this time. His cock returned again, pestering her sanity with slow, precise spirals. He threw back his head.

"Yes," he bellowed as her silken heat pulled his cock deeper into her. 

Their noises merged while his sinuous, intimate dance continued.

In. 

Wind. Wind. Wind.

Out 

The glorious sensations he set off inside her, ripped warbled sounds of surprise from Ana's mouth. 

Slow. 

Fast.

Hard.

Slower.

Ana clawed at his shoulders, his sides. "Don't stop. Don't stop. Please, don't...oh!"

Their eyes collided. 

Thought and perception dissolved. Only Sean remained. His hips swiveled against hers, the rhythm of his fucking increased. Ana surrendered and her eyes drifted shut. 




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."



Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 05



Dear Reader,

Someone suggested this story would find its proper home with romance readers. I think she's right and I hope you do too. Enjoy!

With thanks,

August

**********************

Saturday, September 9th, 2006. 2:38 pm.

The glass panels parted with a swish. Then came the blast of frigid air with its clouds of stale, denatured alcohol. The scent assault dragged Ana through time where she was kneeling in fright, reaching for the limp hand clutching twenty dollar bills. She looked at Sean's profile and prayed his world would remain unchanged when he emerged from the other side of these doors. Her fingers entwined with his; the past and present pressed between their palms. She stuffed the memories deep in the closet of her mind and they crossed the threshold together. She was here, now, for Sean. 

"They're running tests...they're doing an ECG, something called a tropnin and a CK...I think that's what the nurse said," the harried brunette—Sean's mother—tried to explain. Her nose and eyes were shades of red. The smudged mascara added a look of fatigue to her delicate, pinched features. 

"A troponin test," the greyer haired version of the man next to her corrected while he smoothed his wife's back. Even his rich baritone matched Sean's. In fact, the son favored the father in every way but for the elder's green eyes. "They're checking to see if Grandpa had a heart attack. Grams is with him right now." 

"We're waiting to find out more before we call Em." The woman's wild, blue eyes landed on Ana. "Who are you?"

Well, hello!

If Ana didn't feel like an interloper at a private family gathering, she did now. Given the situation she didn't bristle at the question's slightly brusque delivery. But Sean's father looked taken aback.

Sean placed a hand on the small of Ana's back. Touching her tempered the spark of red hot anger that rose up his chest. "This is Ana," he announced before she spoke. 

The simple words held a dark edge—one she never wanted to be on the receiving end of—as he pulled her closer to him. His hand slid up her back, the tiny gesture felt both protective and defiant and rendered any further explanation unnecessary. That was all it took to for her to feel like she belonged—unquestionably. 

Sean's father extended a hand, his smile and demeanor apologetic as he spoke. "I'm Dominic, Sean's dad." 

"I'm Clodagh," Sean's mother followed automatically and exchanged distracted pleasantries with Ana. "I should check on Daddy...you stay here," she said to no one in particular, "Duncan should be here soon."

"I'll come with you," Dominic offered gently.

"We'll be right here," Sean promised at his mother's uncertain look.

We.

She wanted to tell him everything would be alright but she didn't want to offer empty platitudes. She looped an arm around his waist, instead, and rubbed his back, wishing she could do more. She sent out another silent prayer with the others circulating these walls and hoped it would be answered.

He snaked an arm around her shoulder and gave her a light squeeze. "You can go. I'll call you later about picking up my car." 

Ana's hand froze. It was a gentle rejection, a reminder that she was privy to just a small part of his life, nothing more. But hearing him put it to words, even indirectly, stung. God, how foolish of her to misinterpret the simple way he'd introduced her to his parents. She reached for her hypocrisy—she would've called off their affair by now if hadn't he taken that phone call—and it dulled the hurt. A little. She wasn't going to hang around where she wasn't wanted. Certain she had her face schooled in a neutral expression, Ana looked at him, ready to acquiesce to his request. But his vivid blue eyes said something entirely different. 

He'd given her an out. Nothing would change if she went home right now. Would something change if she stayed? 

"No." Her hand moved over his back again in slow, circles. "I'll stay...if you want." 

He nudged her closer to his side, taking in the comfort of having her near before he'd have to let her go. "It might be a while," he warned. 

He wouldn't ask her to stay lest there be a small chance she would...out of obligation. That and he couldn't let her know how much he needed her right now. She didn't sign up for this. Hell, he frowned, did he? 

Ana wove her fingers around the ones hanging off her shoulder. This wasn't about walking away from an afternoon in a hospital waiting lounge. He wanted her here. She heard it in his voice, though he was too proud to admit it. 

"Yes," she said and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, not needing to deliberate her decision any further. She looked up at him again, hoping to articulate the message with her eyes, wanting to erase the doubt she saw in his. "I know. I'm staying."

* * * * *

A sonorous, Brennan man's voice called out Sean's name. Ana recognized him from the photos she'd seen in Sean's living room. Duncan Brennan was slightly taller, his frame more athletic, than his younger brother. Dressed in a black shirt, dark jeans and black boots, Duncan was the rugged anti-hero to Sean's charismatic leading man—outfitted in a blue crew neck peeking out from a red / blue striped white shirt, chinos and dark loafers. The two men hugged in the loose way men did, without hesitation. Sean introduced her to his brother before updating him on what little was known of their grandfather's condition.

Time went by in a choreographed waltz of doctor updates and Brennans taking turns to sit with Sean Gallagher. New faces came and went, some stayed long enough to become familiar strangers—like the worried couple sitting a row ahead. They were here for a little girl. There was the small talk people engaged in to pass time, to will everything back into order through a stream of words, to break the silence. Hospital silences were the heaviest, most unbearable sounds in the world. 

The first hour and a half of waiting rewarded them with good news: the results of the blood work were negative. The tentative relief grew more confident as the elder Sean showed no further signs of discomfort. Reports came back he was pleased his attending physician was a woman. The sight of a pretty lass made the indignities of being poked and prodded and the absurd questions about the quality of his recent bowel movements, rather bearable. 

Ana looked over to Sean, who was talking with Duncan near the water dispenser, and smiled inside; now she knew where he inherited his flirting gene. Both brothers commanded attention in their unique way, which didn't go unnoticed by some visitors or hospital staff—female and male.

"This is some way to meet Sean's family isn't it, love." Emily Gallagher patted Ana's hand in the sweet gesture only loving grandmothers mastered. The lilting dip and roll of "love" betrayed her Irish roots.

Ana leaned in, not quite sure how best to respond. "I'm sorry." 

"Why be sorry?" Emily waved her freckled hand around. "This isn't your doing. I'm glad you're here for my grandson." 

Ana cast a look to Sean, now linked to his niece, Grace, via a shared earphone. Their heads bobbed in time with the music coming out of her Ipod. 

"I know he is too. He's much calmer around you." Emily's blue-grey eyes softened as she watched the pair talking animatedly. "I used to tell Clodagh, God would repay her for all she put me and her father through by giving her a child just like herself." She pointed weathered, hot pink manicured finger in Sean's direction. "She thought I was exaggerating until that one was born."

"I've heard some of the stories but I have a feeling there was some editing involved. I can definitely picture him being a handful as a child—he still is."

Emily nodded and studied the swirl of caramel colors in her chamomile tea. She didn't miss the affectionate note in the girl's voice. It wasn't the affected sweetness of a girl trying to impress upon her young man's family the sincerity of her a feelings. She had a quiet strength about her and while she appeared kindhearted, she didn't go out of her way to seek approval. Qualities...what was her name...oh, dear...Ana...would need in spades if what she suspected came to pass. Clodagh would turn into a mama bear to make sure her youngest had chosen well. Luckily the boy had an anarchistic streak, especially when he had to have something, like the day he'd marched his muddied feet into the neighbor's living room and demanded his bike back with a "thank you" at the end. Poor Clodagh had been embarrassed and exasperated, but it was the funniest thing to see Karma play itself out. She looked at...Ana...and felt a tinge of regret that she'd wished little Sean his own set of rambunctious offspring. 

"You're not flustered by it though...Nic is like that with Clodagh."

Ana acknowledged the observation with a nod. If she were a cartoon character her head would've swiveled three-sixty a dozen times already. Was Sean's grandmother was speaking as if their relationship warranted comparison with a married couple's? She couldn't suppress a wry grin as her glance dropped to the octogenarian's pale blonde head. Finding out she was just some girl her grandson picked up at a bookstore would knock the curl out of that elegant coif. The sweet woman assumed she was here by design, not coincidence and leapt to certain conclusions. And who could blame her? The no-strings lover never got introduced to family. She looked over to where he was standing. He'd correct the falsehood at the appropriate time. 

He must've felt her watching him because he looked her way. Their eyes connected for a moment. He wouldn't have called her to be with him had events occurred differently. Her being here didn't impart any significance on their connection. She was here for him the way a friend would be. She'd better remember that. She deflected back to where it was needed. 

"How are you doing? Really." She hoped the question didn't come off as lame or intrusive. It's just that Emily Gallagher had remained so serene throughout the afternoon, it seemed eerie and unnatural.

The lines around Emily's stormy eyes deepened. "Resisting won't change the situation, love. It's out of my control. I know my Sean's a fighter," she paused and her half-smile faded, "he'll do his best to stay with us."

Clodagh Brennan rounded the corner just then and dropped into the chair next to her mother. She'd been running on pure adrenaline the entire time. 

"Why don't you and Nic take a walk. You could do with the fresh air."

"Mom. I should—" 

"Grace and the boys are here and Ana is keeping me company," Emily continued on as if her daughter were closer to sixteen than sixty. "You have your phone with you, yes?"

Clodagh watched them both and something crept into her face before a look of resignation settled in. Was it hurt? Jealousy?

"Okay," she relented. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Thank goodness," Emily remarked with uncensored relief after her daughter left. "She means well but being around all her nervousness and worry is too much." 

"She's scared."

"I know. I am too," Emily confessed: her fingers shifted the short blonde hair at her nape. "A timeout from all of this will do her a world of good." And Grams would probably find it easier to maintain her composure which was much more fragile than Ana originally guessed. 

Sean slid into the empty chair, taking his mother's place. "What are you girls chatting about?"

Emily's eyes turned conspiratorial. "Ana was about to tell me how you met." Did impishness run in the family, like the blue eyes?

His gaze went back and forth between the women. She knew his agile mind was spinning a tame version of their meeting, palatable enough for his doting grandmother. 

"Did she tell you she tried to pick me up at Borders?"

Ana was horrified even as Emily grinned. "I did not!" 

"Don't think for a second I believe you," she said smiling up at her grandson. 

Sean had the audacity to look wounded.

* * * * *

Ana was happy for them, she really was. But other feelings made it impossible to sit by and watch with a cheerleader smile. Feelings she was ashamed to have right now because they were selfish. She passed a wet napkin around her face and neck, hoping the gentle pats would help her tamp down what tried to surface a few minutes ago. 

Clodagh's demeanor had announced the good news well before she'd said the words: her father was being discharged in the morning. He'd stay overnight for observation but everything looked good. Heartburn—due to a forbidden quarter pounder and shake—and not a heart attack appeared to be the likely culprit behind his lunchtime chest pains. 

Ana hung around while Duncan left to walk Grace to her car, listened as Clodagh and Emily "discussed" how long Clodagh would stay with her parents, while Dominic mediated. Sean had vanished from the corner of her eyes as the frightened couple who sat in front of them got escorted to "the private room". The little girl! The moment the man started to shake his head in denial, was the moment Ana had to leave. 

Ana checked her reflection again before leaving the ladies' room. She armed herself with cherry Chap Stick and rounded the corner with renewed determination. Even from here she could see the tense vigil now lay behind them. They were probably still making plans for tomorrow and the next day. She scanned the waiting room and saw the grieving couple huddled in a corner, clinging to each other. A visit to "the private room" only meant one thing.

Miss Williams, I'm sorry. We did everything we could. Please accept my— 

The sting fanning out from the bridge of her nose had her searching the hallways for an escape. She ran when she spotted Sean walking down the corridor. She couldn't let him see her like this. Not even on a good day...

* * * 

Sean took a swig of his Pepsi on the way from his Grandpa's room and grimaced. This could never, ever pass for Coke. It wasn't even close. He walked by a sobbing couple talking with a doctor and quickly shifted his gaze out of respect. Being a voyeur into their pain felt like a violation of something sacred. It was a sad reminder how blessed they were that Grandpa was alright. He looked for the person who helped make this day easier to bear. How fitting she'd chosen to wear a top and trousers in that off-white color. She'd been nothing but an angel.

"Where's, Ana?"

She'd never been gone for an extended amount of time. And whether she was close enough to touch or several feet away, even when no words were spoken, her message was soothing as it was constant. I'm here for you.

"She went to the ladies' room," his mother said.

"She looked unwell, poor girl," Grams added with concern. 

Sean felt the irritation kick up upon seeing the indignant tilt of his mom's head. She might as well have thought balloons floating above her. Why should Ana feel ill? Is her daddy in here too? 

Her notorious impatience was no excuse--one of the traits Grams insisted they shared. Her being in a constant state of fright for hours was no excuse. Ana didn't have to be here. She didn't have to spend ten minutes on the phone directing Grace on the fastest way to get here. She didn't have to go across the street to make sure Grams had a real cup of tea to drink instead of that generic cafeteria crap. She didn't have to spend her Saturday afternoon in a hospital. Not when there were a million other things to do than to sit with a bunch of strangers and be reminded of the day she lost her mother. But she did it anyway. For him. 

Shit. Her mother. 

"Her mother died of a heart attack almost two years ago," he accused. He couldn't help it. He found the contrite look on his mother's face, as her hand covered her mouth, just shy of perversely satisfying. While his ears vaguely entertained her shame filled acknowledgment of Ana's compassion and kindness, how Ana never let on how close to home this must hit, his eyes drifted past her head, down the hall.

"Go look for her," his father advised, sensing the direction of his thoughts. "She's been gone a while."

* * * * * 

The muscle in his jaw worked in frustration when he dead ended at the emergency exit. He could've sworn he'd caught a glimpse of a woman wearing an off-white top headed in this direction. He opened the door; it wouldn't hurt to look. 

Was he ever wrong.

Hysterical wailing he could to deal with because the drama of it all usually overshadowed the actual cause. But he wasn't prepared for this. The loneliness of seeing her sitting on a step, hugging her sides, her silent suffering, gutted him. She was quietly fighting the hollows of despair with every drop of resolve in her. Even in a deserted, half-lit stairwell, Ana tried to be stoic. How often had she been alone when she needed someone? 

I often didn't know what to tell them or how to ask for help.

"Ana?"

She went still.

Sean sat next to her and she turned to the wall as if he'd disappear, as if he wouldn't realize she was crying. She jumped when he stroked her back.

"Ana." He didn't know what else to say so he edged closer while his hand swept across her shoulders.

"I'm s-sorry," she sputtered. He guessed the words rather than understood them.

He kept his voice gentle as he spoke. "Honey, it's okay. You're human. Being here must have brought back a lot of memories."

Ana started shaking and turned into a tight ball. He gathered her in his arms and she resisted until she must have realized he wasn't letting her go. He rubbed her back and rocked her like a baby when she sagged against him.

"Let it out, love" he whispered as she began to sob in earnest. "It's okay. I'm here. Let it out." His words poured out without any thought but to soothe her and continued even after his throat ached. 

The sound of her heart wrenching keen leapt off the concrete walls and went straight to his soul. Part of him wanted her to stop crying because he felt the agony of her heartbreak and sorrow as if they were his own. Part of him knew Ana needed this release. She needed reminding that being strong didn't mean it wasn't okay to say "ow" when life hurt. He held her long after her tears faded into intermittent sniffles and then silence. She eased out of his arms but the instant their eyes met, her face crumpled again.

"Oh, God." Her scratchy voice was loaded with remorse. "I've made you cry." 

He could feel his eyes brimming with tears but only a total, unfeeling bastard could've remained indifferent right now. He cradled her again. 

"Ssh," he murmured into her hair. "Technically, I'm not crying." He felt some relief when she made a sound somewhere between a hiccup and a laugh.

He realized how fortunate he was; not only would Grandpa be okay, he had his family—even if they got on each other's nerves. Ana, however, had been in a mall full of strangers when her mother had collapsed at the ATM. She'd waited alone in the ER until her friends rushed from work. He kissed her temple, truly understanding for the first time how scared she must have felt. He wished he'd known her then, wished he could do more for her now.

"I can't let your family see me like this," Ana remarked as if speaking to herself. She fussed at her eyes, her hair and reached for her bag.

"They know about your mom; they'll understand."

Ana stopped rummaging. 

"You told them?" she repeated as if there were some hope he'd deny it. So much for the whole trying-to-ease-her-worries bit. Her eyes flashed from distressed, to mortified, to distressed again. "They've been through enough today. They need to focus on your granddad and stay positive."

"Sweetheart, it's only natural you'd have some reaction to everything that's happened today. It's nothing to be embarrassed about and we don't hide stuff like this in my family." Sean took her hands in his. Damn, they were cold. "It means a lot that you were with us today."




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 05



Ana sent him a quick, skeptical glance.

"And I'm not just saying it to make you feel better. Grams thinks you're a "fine girl" and my mom agrees."

Her bloodshot eyes still looked skeptical.

"It's true," Sean said and grinned, hoping she'd let go of her unfounded worry that she'd failed somehow. "My mom can be—" he searched the lexicon of euphemisms, "—a handful when she's upset but she's a softie and she knows it couldn't have been easy for you to stay with us the way you did."

She repaid his diplomacy with a nod and a partial smile. She was about to say something then stopped. He was sure she was going to downplay her presence today.

"I better fix my face," Ana said with affected humor, "or I'll freak everyone out. You go ahead." 

He doubted the remedy to her particular concern would be found at the bottom of her bag, not unless she had a magic wand to erase the fact that he'd caught her crying. 

"Hey." 

Sean waited until Ana stopped fidgeting with her bag and took the Kleenex from her hand. He wanted her to know he knew exactly what she was doing—or trying to. He wouldn't let her dismiss what just happened. Her bashful, bloodshot eyes met his but she didn't avert her gaze as he wiped away the wet trails along her nose and cheeks. He slid his forefinger down her blotchy nose when he finished.

Ana blinked away a fresh batch of tears at his touch. He should be with his family, not sitting here, wiping away her tears the way Dad did when Jeffrey Diaz had pushed her off the playground slide. 

"Sean?"

The lost-girl-note in her voice made him wish magic wands really existed. Suddenly her arms banded around him with surprising strength. 

"Thank you." 

The throaty timbre of her voice, the emotion barely contained below her words, made his throat knot up. His arms tightened around her back.

"Aw, hun. You don't have to thank me." He brushed his mouth over hers to silence any objection and tasted saline, cherries and gratitude.

He'd remember the expression on her face the rest of his life as he stood and offered her his hand. He was sure of it. He'd been watching her the same way most of the afternoon.

"Don't take too long."

* * * * * 

Exhaustion set in as the numbers lit up, followed by the chime. Were they going to stop on every damn floor? He closed his eyes and Ana's hand moved, redirecting his focus to the sensations along his back. He draped an arm across her shoulder and leaned into her, inhaling her fresh, floral scent and felt the tension ebb. That happened a lot when Ana was near.

Six. 

Finally, they could escape this steel cage and put the day behind them. 

The last thing he expected was the moment of stillness he walked into. Right here in a half empty parking lot with orange lighting. A surreal peace and Ana. He wasn't even touching her and yet he felt her. He was lifted, grounded, calm and electrified all at once.

Her hand clasped his and their eyes connected as they had so many times today, but something felt different. He saw more.

"You've had a long day. Why don't you stay with me tonight and drive back in the morning."

A sense of victory edged out his weariness as he nodded his answer. Something changed since they left her apartment. He wasn't up for analyzing it, whatever "it" was. This right here, what he was feeling, was good enough for now. 

"Come," Ana said as she pulled his hand and tilted her head towards the parking spaces, "let's go home."

That sounded perfect.

* * * * *

Ana caught the last pillow and dropped it in the bergère. "You know, a warm shower would help you unwind."

He unbuttoned his shirt. "Join me." 

That sounded good. "I'll get you some towels." 

Minutes later Sean stood behind her. Naked. But she didn't see a mere collection of parts making up his physical form. Their eyes intersected in the mirror and she felt stripped of her emotional armor, just like the moment when he found her in the stairwell. Feeling self-conscious and out of her depth, she dropped her gaze to the sink. When she looked up again, the moment was gone.

"I use an electric toothbrush." Uh, I think he could've figured it out. Remember he graduated the top of his class? "The brush head with the red rim is yours," Ana continued while trying to forget just how she'd learned of Sean's academic prowess. Maybe prowess wasn't an appropriate word right now. She stepped out of his way when he reached for the attachment.

"Thanks."

Ana hung a set of towels on the bar and started the shower while he finished up. "The water's perfect. I'll be in, in a minute," she said before he got in, keeping her eyes northbound except for a peek or three. 

Teeth brushed, hair pinned, clothes and make-up gone she joined him. "Hi."

Sean stood like a rain-soaked statue. Seconds passed before he turned around, his eyes half shut. It was weird seeing him zapped of his larger-than-life energy. The need to soothe and protect hurtled her into the tub-stall. She reached into the shower caddy for her sparingly used, feel-good body wash and covered his skin in creamy foam. The sunshine-and-fresh-cotton scent of Pure Grace was the perfect antidote to a day in hospital air. 

"If had a million dollars right now, I'd give it to you," he sighed as her fingers worked away the tightness in his shoulders and back. 

"Just one?"

"Took one off because of the girly stuff." 

She pushed him into the cascading water in playful retaliation

He laughed. "Baby, that's just mean." 

"I'm always as nice as you deserve," she quipped while reaching for the shampoo. "See?" She dared him to disagree as she moved the lather around his scalp in rhythmic circles. His sounds of appreciation bounced off the wet tiles as her fingers melted the stubborn knot above his nape. 

He closed his eyes, once again giving himself over to her care. His head swayed into her palms. The pads of her fingers maneuvered his scalp, waking up sensitive nerve endings with every circle, every press. Threads of tingling bliss spiraled from the roots of his hair, down his back and legs. Goosebumps covered his skin. 

"Are you cold?" 

Even the sound of her voice behind him had a visceral effect.

"Mmm-mmn. Feels good." 

It was an understatement. The sensation bordered on erotic, but he didn't chase after it. Ana deserved more than the perfunctory quickie he was capable of right now. He wanted to take his time when he had her again. He wanted to show her how much he appreciated having her with him today, the way she took care of him. Tonight, she needed to rest and he wanted her to have it as much as he wanted to be inside her again. He could do it. He could lie next to her and hold her and it would be enough. But tomorrow morning...

He already looked forward to the big decision: Should he start at her feet and work his way up? He closed his eyes, trying to stem the flood of sensory impressions: The contrast of her golden skin against her white sheets. Her firm, soft skin under his hands as he parted her long legs. The tight, breathy sounds she made when he took her in his mouth to smell and taste her. The way her autumn brown eyes darkened as he slid his...

He guided Ana into switching places with him after he'd been rinsed from head to toe. He'd have a better chance at keeping his thoughts clean if her hands weren't on him.

"Your turn."

She stood still while Sean alternated between using the shower sponge and his bare hands on her. The feel of airy foam, rough fabric, and slow fingers sliding over her wet skin felt relaxing—at first. But his swirling patterns reminded her it had been a week since they... Ana squashed the next thoughts in line and stepped into the warm drizzle.

"Not yet," he protested as she reached for the dials. His voice was thick with sleep. 

He pulled her to him, molding his front to her back. Warm water poured down her chest while his hands cupped shoulders, her breasts, and absently stroked her stomach. His touch felt reverent; as if he needed convincing she was real. But a dull sting started between her legs, despite knowing it wasn't his intent to arouse her, despite it being selfish to want him now. 

"Sean?"

The rough bristle of his day-old stubble made her wriggle and giggle as he nuzzled her neck. His arms crisscrossed her waist, stilling her movements

"Mmm?"

"This is nice—"

"Mm-hmm."

He made no attempt to move. Ana cuddled closer.

"—but we should get out."

"Mm-hmm," he agreed and pressed a kiss below her earlobe. She squeezed her thighs together to stop the heat blooming there. She laughed inside at her own horn doggishness. 

"C'mon, sleepy thing." A sliver of delight colored her words. "Let's get out of here before we turn into prunes."

"Okay," Sean conceded with a hint of childlike petulance, still in no hurry to move or let her go.

* * * * *

Ana tucked the sheet below his ribs and smoothed back his hair. "Goodnight, Irish," she whispered.

He frowned and caught her wrist, his eyes still closed. "Where are you going?" he asked peevishly.

"Girly stuff. Some of us have to work hard at being beautiful."

His lips curled up and he let go of her hand. 

"This is the part where you say something like 'oh, no, you're already very beautiful'." 

His eyes opened and lingered on her face like a caress. Ana went from sassy playfulness to sensual awareness under his slow appraisal. He looked like a fantasy rouge with his lazy smile and dreamy blue eyes. How did this man end up in her life, in her bed? 

"That's amateur stuff—" he yawned, "—I can do better than that." Even half asleep, Sean still managed to sound self-assured and more than a bit cocky. 

"You already do." Ana leaned forward and kissed the dimple in his chin then fussed with the sheet until it folded perfectly below his ribs. It felt really good to look after him, even in this small way. "I was just kidding," she promised and dimmed the light. "Get some rest."

Ana tiptoed her way back to the bedroom and eased the dresser drawer open. She slid on the first shirt her fingers landed on. It was strictly for comfort and rest then again, tonight was all about comfort and rest. 

Sean's voice made her jump and turn around.

"Does it always take this long?" he grumped with his eyes closed.

"I thought you were asleep," she whispered as her heart returned to its regular pace.

"Waiting for you," Sean explained as if it were as obvious and expected a thing as one plus one equaling two. He threw back the sheet in invitation, letting it fall midway down the diagonal line of muscle from his hips to... It's like Maxim— for girls. 

"Come to bed."

He sounded like he owned the joint! 

Ana grinned at the observation and decided to forgo a raid of her underwear drawer, lest his lordship become even more fussy. Besides, the shirt stopped inches above her knees. Sean's arm lay fixed in front of her pillow, leaving her only one place to rest her head. With a click, the room faded into black and grey. His arms were around her the instant she nestled her head into the slope between his collarbone and the rise of his pec, her cuddle spot. 

Ana echoed Sean's soft, satisfied sound as she burrowed into the solid warmth of him. She stretched her leg along the length of his, delighting in the tickle of his hair beneath her calf. Her brows furrowed after she stumbled upon an odd realization. Sharing a bed like this for the first time, felt as intimate as all the things they usually did when they were horizontal...maybe more. 

The constant thud of his heartbeat beneath her left ear lulled her into relaxation. Sean spoke a second before her eyes fluttered shut. 

"Thank you." His voice sounded so vague, Ana thought she dreamt it. But his hand covered hers on his chest, letting her know he was still awake.

"Hmm?" she murmured quietly as his fingers swayed over her knuckles, his other hand stroked her back.

"Thank you for staying with me today." His words reverberated under her ear. 

She pressed her lips to his collarbone and inhaled his clean, male scent. "You're welcome...I wanted to be there...for you and glad everything's going to be alright." She let out a sleepy sigh while his jaw rubbed against the top of her head like an affectionate cat.

Somewhere between awake and asleep she realized how foolish it was to give this up. How close she'd been to missing it all—by the timing of a phone call before her rehearsed speech.

* * * * *

Ana snuggled deeper into the delicious cocoon of warmth. Her heart crashed against her chest and she jerked when something scraped her neck. The boom of her heartbeat clamored in her ears, bringing sleep to a violent end. Her awakenings had long been lethargic and solitary—except for that morning in July. The taste of mint lingered on her tongue. It couldn't it be morning already. 

"Good...you're awake," said the voice in the darkness. It was rusty and purring with the promise of the forbidden. 

The rough tickle descended to her shoulder followed by something soft. It felt so good, it melted the cold tentacles of fright that had dragged her from sleep. Through the haze of semi-awareness her brain registered a hand smoothing her side. 

"Mmm...no panties."

She wiggled closer and called out his name the instant she realized Sean was near. Her body answered the iron heft resting near the crevice of her backside with its own silky moisture. 

Sean heard the velvet rasp of his name and suddenly his skin felt two sizes too small. He had her on her back in the next breath; his hands dove under her shirt, pushing it up to get to more of Ana. She writhed beneath his eager fingers. Her thighs felt softer, the swell of her hips felt sleeker than last Saturday. He licked and kissed a slow trail from the crevasse of her navel, up her taut stomach. The sheets rustled in the dark as her feet skated up and down the bed each time his mouth left her skin. He settled between her legs, his arms keeping his full weight off her as the tip of his tongue scaled the side of a puckered nipple.

Ana arched her back, intent on giving him better access. Sean didn't disappoint; his lips latched onto the swollen crest. Her breath broke; she crashed back onto the bed as the heat of his mouth, sucked and pulled on her breast. He blew wisps of air onto the wet peak, making her shiver before he moved aside. She held onto his shoulders and twisted and bucked under him as he exacted the same, delicious torment to her right breast. One of his hands slithered down the center of her body, taking its sweet time, teasing her as his fingers inched lower, got closer. Yes!

Desperate for air, Sean released the hard nub from his mouth. The feel of her moist curls and hot, dewy flesh under his fingertips made his breath go from even to choppy within seconds. She took advantage of his loss of balance and rolled atop him and into a cat pose. Her mouth found his; their tongues danced. Back and forth they went, so seamlessly he didn't know where his mouth ended and hers began. He nipped and licked her upper lip; her teeth grazed his lower lip in gentle reprisal before the tip of her tongue followed. 

Their kissing game continued while Sean held the back of her shirt bunched between her shoulder blades like a harness. Ana played the willing captive, rocking over the hand cupping her sex, assisting the glide of his thumb around her clit. He found ways to make her melt for him, to ease the passage of one, two, then three long fingers inside her and swallowed her breathy mewls as her slick walls closed in on his digits. Her arms and legs buckled he didn't wait to ease her beneath him again. He inhaled, pulling in Ana's wet-earth aroma from his soaked fingers. It wasn't enough. He had to experience her through all his senses.

One heartbeat rushed into another as the hiss of Sean's sharp inhales sliced the silence. Her eyes followed the silhouette of his long fingers sliding in and out of his mouth. Desire dampened the apex of her thighs at the sight of him tasting her. Her eyes searched through the shadows to catch his expressions as he sampled her arousal like a sommelier. She doubted there was a cure for its affect on her—and if there was one, she didn't want it. But she couldn't lay back and just watch any longer.

"See what you do to me?"

Ana canted her hips, rubbed her sex against his pelvis and lower, where he was hard and jutting out between them. He groaned and ran his cock over her wetness over and over. 

"Kiss me."

A current of sensual pride pulsed through her blood the second Sean's body went rigid above her. Watching her taste herself, taking it from him, was one ingredient in his sexual kryptonite. Doing it in the dark heightened its decadent allure.

He opened his lips on hers. Her tongue swirled along the roof of his mouth and licked the faint saltiness there before retreating. Sean mimicked her; play continued until the taste of her essence dissolved in their mouths. They traveled the corners of the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, kissing and writhing on each other. 

Ana kept his wrists pinned to his sides while her teeth gently raked his nipple then swept it with quick darts of tongue. He had no intention of going anywhere as she turned her focus to its twin. Her ardent mouth traveled lower, showing him how well she'd paid attention to what he liked and debuted new ways to excite him. She explored him as if she didn't want to miss a thing. And the wisp of her hair below his hips shouted exactly what the next thing was. He twisted under her as the pads of her fingers brailled the textures of angry veins squeezed within hot, hard, erect skin. Her cool breath at the tip of his cock sent his blood pounding in his ears. He was too wound up to withstand her oral attack for much longer. 

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, preempting the next pass of her tongue along that sensitive spot under the swollen crown. There was only once place he wanted to be when he came. "I need to be inside you." 

The smoke in his voice rolled over her skin, reaching her primitive need to fuck, to mate. Ana rolled away and crawled to bedside table. The dim light blazed through the darkness, making her squint and blink as she fished out a condom from the drawer.

Sean bit down on the wrapper and tugged. Nothing happened. He tugged again. 

"Let me try," 

He grinned and shook his head as Ana's first effort yielded the same result. She tried with her teeth this time.

"If what's inside is made the same way, it'll redefine the meaning of safe sex."

Ana chuckled, but remained determined to make this piece of foil submit to her will. 

"See? Third time's a charm," she boasted and arrogantly tossed the packet to him. His pursed mouth let her know he wasn't that impressed with her lack of humility

But the packet vanished the second her proclamation jumped off her tongue, taking her momentary triumph with it. They laughed while they hunted through a maze of sheets and pillows. Everything got tossed to the floor with cartoonish haste and they laughed some more. It was Ana who came up with the lost treasure. "Got it!" she said, waving the loot between her thumb and index.

"Nice save."

For a moment, Sean wished there'd be no barrier between them when he slid into her. He still held onto the memory of the first time, the only time he'd measured the feel of a woman's most feminine secret with his cock. Lightening raced through his veins as he remembered Ana on the kitchen island, her wet satin closing in around him. So hot. So snug. So perfect. The thoughts and images boiled over then evaporated as her fingers rolled the protective sleeve down his pulsating length.

He willingly fell back onto the bed under her command. She knelt next to him and pulled off the last article of clothing on the bed. What the fuck? A Colts fan? But Ana straddled him before his quip about Peyton what's-his-name ever had a chance to morph into something witty.




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 05



"Do it," he urged with a rough moan as she brought the tip of his shaft to her opening. A rush of adrenaline coursed through his blood as he watched Ana press down onto him, felt his blunt tip slowly part her soft, resistant flesh. His hands stilled her hips so he could savor these first moments when two became one. He loved the look on Ana's face when the first inches penetrated her.

"Ah...yesss," he groaned and hissed as her pussy slid over the length of his cock. Their sounds merged as their bodies connected completely. Ana wasted no time. She moved over him, first with sharp, arcing movements then an undulating shimmy. She shifted from bull rider to belly dancer with effortless grace, making him buck and twist beneath her. Her pussy circled and gripped his cock with breathtaking perfection. And she did take his breath when he looked at her. Every move accented the sloping lines of her neck and arms and her womanly curves. The soft light fell over her golden skin, casting her in a dreamlike glow. The blissed out look on her face switched his brain to pure sensory mode. 

Amber highlights tumbled down her dark spirals with every sway of her head as she rode him. Her breasts bounced in time with the rhythm their bodies made and begged to be held. His hands tested their weight; his fingers strummed the hardness of her light brown nipples. He marveled at the softness of her skin, how it contrasted with his lighter skin tone. His gaze wandered down to the scattering of curls between her thighs and lower. He lifted his head to see his shaft emerge covered in latex and glossy with Ana's juices. He fisted the sheet at the sight of his cock disappearing within her rosy lips. Seeing and feeling his dick fuck her put him in a trance. He lost all notions of time and space. He plunged upwards— his hands gripping her hips—one, two, three, four times before he realized Ana had gone still. His eyes moved up while he waited for her. Her smile was nothing short of wicked. 

"Like what you see?" Her voice sounded like crushed velvet; her autumn brown eyes mesmerized him

"Take a guess." 

"I think you like to watch," she said in her sexy-witch voice.

Ana leaned back, her arms behind her on the bed and she lifted up. Oh...so... slowly. 

"Look."

He did. The image of his cock sticking out of her branded his eyes.

She impaled herself. Fast. 

"All gone. Inside me." 

And then she said the three words that turned him into a bull charging a red flag. 

"Where you belong."

She saw the dark look creep over his face. It exhilarated and scared her at once. The muscle in his jaw twitched and he sat up. 

"Where do I belong?" 

Ana worried at her lip. She couldn't believe she had said it out loud like that. Sean's hands smoothed down her thighs to the back of her calves. His cock stirred inside her, making her flesh coil around him in response. How did his question touch a much more intimate space inside? How?

"Tell me." 

I don't know.

She distantly registered the unfolding and stretching of her legs behind him. His hands cupped her face: his blue eyes drilled hers. "Tell me where I belong." The quiet power in his voice invaded the dark corners of her mind.

With me.

"Inside me," Ana breathed. 

It didn't sound as bold and confident as the first time but she must've done okay because he rewarded her with a kiss. She half-expected him to claim her mouth with the same intensity of his words, instead his lips moved gently against hers. The light touches of his tongue intoxicated her, made her hold onto his shoulders. He suckled her lower lip and slowly released it. He planted her hands behind her on the bed and mirrored her pose.

"Say it again," demanded as he surged up into her.

Ana met his next thrust midway. "You...belong." The friction killed her voice.

Sean bucked and rolled his hips. "Where?"

"Inside," she crooned over a delicious stroke. "Inside me." She punctuated her words with a sinuous grind of her body. "Just the way...you love it." 

"You love being...inside me...don't you."

"God, yes!" he grunted as she pushed back on her heels and palms. Her backwards glide along his length was the sweetest agony.

"You can't get enough...can you." 

Sean speared into her and made a low sound of affirmation. It wasn't enough. She wanted to hear the words. Her naughty interrogation continued and dragged a litany curses and prayers from behind his gritted teeth. They rocked back and forth like a pendulum over the bed until Ana's triceps burned from exertion. 

"Come here," he whispered as the pace slowed way down. 

He crossed his legs under her and wrapped her up in his arms. It was a perfect storm. Ana's hips rolled in tiny, intermittent circles while he pumped into her. She rested the side of face against his and sprinkled kisses past his temple. Every puff of air along his neck, every lacey sigh above his ear, became a sweet affirmation of life. Her limbs folding around him like ribbons were a testament to the beauty of sharing, connecting.

His arms crossed her back, keeping her anchored while his cock stroked her right where she needed it. An aria of trapped sounds and staccato breaths marked their slow ascent to the peak. The hard lines of his chest and abs rubbed over her, turning her skin into one sweaty, erogenous zone. 

"So good...so good," she sobbed into his neck, smelling the tang of perspiration mixed with sweet soap-and-water. Her pussy fluttered, validating her words while Sean's chest hair skimmed her nipples. She held him closer, felt his muscles bunch beneath her fingers as she clutched and squeezed his shoulders and back. Her orgasm was just within her reach now, every moment promised to be the one of release, making her chase the sensation another second and another and another. The room felt hot; her mind felt restless and possessed. This must be the edge where heaven and hell met.

"Close," she whimpered again and again, hoping Sean would help her. 

And he did. 

Only Sean's help hurt...so very, very good. 

He ducked his head and sucked her right nipple while his rough fingertips rolled its twin. Her fingers sliced through his soft black hair and held on as energy surged between her legs. The bed squeaked under the power of his quick, deep shoves. Ana's eyes snapped shut; her mouth parted on a silent scream. She was there, soaring out of her body and into a kaleidoscope of stinging sensation and light. Sean was with her when she crashed. 

He gave her everything he had as the lightening pressure racing up the pit of his stomach zoomed to the end of his dick. Only sweat kept his skin from being glued to hers while they held each other tight. He lost his rhythm the second Ana came apart. Her pussy pulsed and pulsed around his aching shaft. He watched the expressions flit across her face. She was killing him. 

"Sean." 

It was barely a murmur, but the way she called his name, the pure rapture in its sound, set him off. He heard the squish of Ana's wetness against latex below her encouraging words as he pumped harder into her. The paisley pattern behind the headboard swirled in front of his eyes. Pleasure tightened and rose inside his hardening cock. It erupted from him in quick, violent bursts within the protective sheath. The world spun away into a savage release and then sweet peace.

He surfaced to feel of her hands smoothing his back and arms. Her breath fanned his skin, cooling him and making him shiver at once. Was there anything sweeter than Ana nuzzling his neck? When did sex ever feel this way?

Ana rested her cheek on his clammy shoulder, entranced with the sight her fingers walking up and down his arm. A breakup seemed like such a smart, preemptive move twenty-four hours ago. Now Sean was in her arms, spending his first full night in her home. The inclination to find the formula to explain why something so out of her reach fit so perfectly in place with the turn of a day buzzed about. Instead, she flicked it away, relishing the feel of his skin, warm and firm under her cheek, the tingle of his fingers tracing the column of her spine. She breathed in the serenity of the pre-dawn hour and sublime wonder of having this beautiful man in her arms. 

"Sean." 

He didn't just hear the note of lazy contentment and pleasure in her voice; he felt it. His hands went to the back of her head, holding her in place while he tasted her soft, full lips. They both jerked when a strong aftershock made Ana's cunt ripple around his narrowing cock. She tore her mouth away, her lips parted in an "o" and her brown eyes widened with surprise. The mist of perspiration and play of light on her skin gave her an ethereal glow that seemed to come from within. 

He cupped the sides of her face and winked. "Beautiful." 

She pressed a kiss into his palm, about to echo his sentiment when she caught the twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Smartass."

Her dimpled grin told him she'd caught the private joke; her uninterrupted look of drunken joy said she trusted the sincerity of his compliment. His thumb found the tiny dent of a white scar high above her left eyebrow. She rubbed her face against his palm with kittenish abandon. 

He lied. 

Ana was so exquisite; it almost hurt to look at her. 

"Belle?"

No one had ever abbreviated her name that way before. Something about it felt special and intimate because it was just between the two of them.

"Mmm?"

"We need to move." 

She smiled inside, remembering she'd used those very words in the shower. Moving was the last thing she wanted because her body felt like it had lived a week in one day.

"You look worn out," he said as their bodies disengaged. 

She nodded and he brushed the back of his fingers down her jaw. "Bet you thought I'd be easy to handle."

Here she was expecting empathy and fell for his teasing. Again. She slapped his hand away. "Brat!" 

"You need to work on selling the outrage." His index barely touched her dimple. "This is too cute." 

* * * * *

Sean felt Ana's lips between his shoulder blades before the line of her legs disappeared from the corner of his eye. He splashed his face. What a day. He exhaled the relief that Grandpa was okay and inhaled the mystery that was Ana. 

Two months ago he'd had it all figured out on the drive home from Borders. The next night, he decided his self-imposed sex break ended with Anabelle Williams—the night her name first appeared in his e-mail inbox. He'd weighed his options when they'd overheated like teenagers in the parking lot: have sex or wait. Instinct said she'd sleep with him, despite it not being her m.o. Lord knows she was ready and willing. But talking about her mother had rendered Ana somewhat vulnerable right then. Finding sneaky ways to abuse a woman's trust just to get some sex wasn't his thing. He didn't need to and wouldn't resort to such tactics even it weren't the case. She'd come to him of her own accord. Plus, he had a perverse desire to delay the inevitable conclusion. 

He had listened to her padding around his bedroom in the dark and for the first time in God knows how long, he wondered if he'd rushed things. He shrugged it off and reached for the light. Ana was a grown woman; he hadn't lured her to his front door or into his bed with false promises. If she wanted to go he'd help her dress and send her home with words to make her feel happy she'd shared her body with him—even if it was only one night. He would've been okay with that. But one look at her, he realized he didn't want to part ways so soon. Plus, there wasn't much he could come up with to erase the panicked look on her face. Not at three a.m. when his brain was still shorted out from all that great sex.

Once he made up his mind, he went with it and usually got his way. He'd expected Ana to be no exception; he'd just coast along with the usual charm, fun and sex then move on when the inevitable plateau hit. CuriousBloom had pegged him easily on that score—though with thinly veiled censure. No doubt she'd be laughing in cyberspace if she knew the way Ana affected him, so fast. He scowled and splashed his face again. The last time his online nemesis crossed his mind was the day he met Ana. He looked in the mirror and had a feeling he was staring at a marked man. One who didn't mind one damned bit that he'd been wrong about a woman. Now that was a first.

He wasn't sure if this was short-term fling or more. There weren't any signs of boredom in sight but there was still a lot he didn't know about her. He knew the important things instinctively, but he was curious about the details he'd missed because of their no-strings casualness. He had one foot in, one out like he was waiting for a sign. That wasn't his approach. He was usually certain early on what to expect, and if it lined up with what he wanted. He heard a kitchen cabinet shut. He'd save the analysis tomorrow. He'd check on Grandpa in the morning and he'd make up his mind about—

"I'm going to fix something to eat. Did you want something too?"

Ana had her head and shoulder leaned on the doorframe. Her folded arms and pressed up breasts obscured the blue horseshoe logo. One foot crossed the other. Those black fuzzy slippers were a comedy routine. She was the girl across the street from the girl next door. That's where the girls with the adjective defying appeal resided. She tucked a curl behind her ear. Yes, he wanted something. He told her so. The way she smirked when she said, "good," told him she didn't miss his quick perusal of her. Then again, she was doing the same thing.

"Stop it. You're making me feel all violated."

Her autumn brown eyes rolled and lit up. "Oh, please. If you didn't want me to look," her hand waved like a conductor's, "you would've covered up most of this nakedness." 

She pivoted then looked back at him. 

"Oh, and Sean?" 

She waited until she had his full attention before giving him a blatant once over. Her eyes groped and fondled him as they paused deliberately in certain places. At least, that's how it felt. Her lush pout turned the idea of a second round of sex into a distinct possibility. She winked when their eyes met again. "You're beautiful," she said with mischievous, "gotcha" emphasis.

Ana turned to leave, so thoroughly impressed with her own comedic brilliance she felt a fit of laughter coming on.

Sean threw his towel onto the vanity and smiled at the eruption of giggles outside the empty doorway. "Smartass."

"I heard that!"

* * * * *

Ana fluffed her pillow and dropped it onto her side of the newly made bed. The faint scent of what they'd been doing perfumed in the air. 

He tilted his head to her shirt. "You're a fan?" 

It wasn't really a question, it wasn't really an accusation. Yet it was both. Only one kind of person would say it that way. It made sense. He'd gone to school in Boston and his parents were from the New England area. 

Ana shrugged, took a sip of water and set the cup on the night table. She went about fixing the tuck of the sheet at the foot of the bed. Developing an interest in the sport made for easy bonding with her college-football-coach-of-a-dad. A hardcore fan she wasn't, though her early Super Bowl predictions held up for the past five years in a row. "They're a good team. I think this is their season."

His non-committal nod hid nothing. Maybe because he didn't try very hard.

"Ooh," she said, doing a goblins-and ghosts routine, her fingers wiggling, "are you violating the Patriots' fan code of conduct going out with a—" her dramatic pause ended with choking sounds, "—C-C-Colts fan?"

He laughed. "Honey, check the calendar. Football season only started two days ago. You're getting waaay ahead of yourself"

"We'll see come Super Bowl Sunday...after the Patriots' season is over." 

Sean looked at her like she'd forecasted a freezing day in hell. 

"Don't worry. I won't be all in your face, dropping the 'I told you sos' and acting all smug and superior the way some fans of a team we won't mention like to."

"I promise not to be that way when Brady hoists the Lombardi trophy. Again."

"You're already doing it! Doesn't matter because, a: it won't happen." He shook his head at her assertion. "B: it doesn't bother me either way because I love hockey way more." 

The realization this was the first time they'd spoken about the future more than a weekend ahead made her pause.

"Oh, for Christ's sake! Hockey's a niche sport!"

Pause over. She parked a hand on her hip. "Do you want to sleep on the couch?"

"There aren't even any hockey teams around here," Sean teased, hoping Ana would take the bait. Served her right for uttering that kind of blasphemy. Her irritated expression was too cute. 

"What about the Anaheim Ducks, the San Jose Sharks?" She was about to mention the Kings but thought the better of it.

"Well, well. Don't tell me I'm shagging a puck bunny."

She eyed him with the indignance of a bona fide NHL fan. So what if Theodore and DiPietro were hotties? It didn't make it okay for him to throw around the "p" word like that. "The couch is that way."

He grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?"

"I'm about to violate the second rule in the...what did you call it? Oh, yes...the conduct book," he threatened, intent on getting back into the good graces of this Colts-hockey fan. 

Ana ducked her head and tried to push him away. Her hands wound up trapped between them instead, and his mouth landed on that spot behind her left ear, the one that drove her crazy. She was biting the inside of her lower lip to stifle all sound. That didn't stop her breath from coming in heavier rushes of sound. 

He nipped the tip of her earlobe. "All forgiven?" It was a forgone conclusion pretending to be a query. Her ego balked at him viewing her as a walk-in-park. 

"No," she pouted and twisted away from him. But Sean was quick to shackle her hands behind her back.

His blue eyes glittered with predatory heat. They told her only time, not her half-hearted protests, stood between getting what he wanted. "No?"

Her arms tensed with resistance. Just because he had every reason to use that cock-sure undertone didn't mean she had to like it. Sean made a nonchalant sound and his mouth went to work near her right ear. He didn't lift his head until she let out her first moan. It must've taken oh, five seconds? 

"Why are you wasting our time fighting like this?"

Ana struggled, only to feel the renewed strength of his hands on her wrists keeping her still. "If I'm wasting your time then why don't you just let me go?"

He shook his head. "Don't try to twist my words around. I'll let you go if you really want me to." 

He cast a deliberate look down to her breasts. His rakish smile left no doubt he'd noticed the jut of her nipples. 

"But we both know that's not the case, sweetheart." 

He emphasized his point with the slow rub of his chest against her sensitive peaks. Ana didn't have time to smother her gasp. The pinch of sensation was lightning fast. His mastery of her made her ache to submit. But some part of her brain wanted to test the limit. She'd never seen him lose control sexually. He was like a leashed panther even in those wild moments of climax.

He tried to take advantage of her open mouth but she shifted away from him. He transferred her wrists into one of his hands while the other grabbed her hair; his lips followed the line of her jaw. A firm tug on her nape aligned her head just where he wanted. The gold in her eyes flashed as his mouth hovered above hers. His lips swept over hers...barely. He was ready for her this time when she gasped, and his tongue slid slowly, slowly into her mouth. Every trick he'd learned in two decades of kissing got edited down to his two months of kissing Anabelle Williams. He tasted the spicy sweetness of the chai tea she drank.




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 05



Buttery kisses. That was the only way to describe the way Sean's hot tongue sought out the recesses of her mouth. His fingers raked her hair, making every strand tingle at the root. The sensation tumbled down her back, her legs, her feet. Now she really knew the meaning of a toe curling kiss. Her hands rested on his bare chest, partly for the support, partly for the way his skin felt under her fingers. She rubbed against him and his answering moan made her melt. His mouth left hers as he released her hands.

"Are you really going to make me sleep on the couch, baby?" His voice oozed sex. The hot, thorough kind. Her hands drifted down his stomach. The kind only he could deliver. Her hands went lower. Soon.

"I don't think so," she croaked.

He eased his leg between hers. The wet wisp of Ana's, kinky curls over his thigh made him want to throw her on the bed. That she responded this fast, to a kiss, sent his blood southwards right along with her caresses. Her fingers did a maddening dance along the underside of his cock. Oh, yes. Round two just went from highly probable to sure thing. "Good. Because I wouldn't be able to sleep a wink knowing you were in here, needing me like this," he moved his thigh and eased her hips forward. 

The tiny friction almost made Ana come. 

"You're projecting," she tried to accuse, but it came out sounding like a moan.

"You think?" 

Her breath hitched at the sight of his hand guiding his cock through her wet folds. It was as though she was watching this happen to someone else. And then she felt him there, the blunt head slid up and down her lips kissing her swollen clit with his swollen tip. Heaviness pooled within her core upon seeing his length lacquered with her arousal.

"I-I," she gasped, "didn't mean it...like that," she barely managed to speak as she felt the head nuzzle her opening. Her sex, her entire body throbbed with anticipation. Was he going to fuck her without a condom? Would she be the first?

He pulled away. "What did you mean?" He sounded like he was merely indulging a silly whim of hers. That emboldened her. 

"You wouldn't sleep a wink," she reached for his shaft, "because of this." Her hand closed over his increasing hardness. The wet trail made it easy for her fingers to slide up and down his length. He moaned but didn't agree. Yet. That emboldened her.

She squeezed her hand, making him jerk and moan again. "Good. I've got your attention."

"You always do."

He was trying to distract her but she wouldn't fall for his sexy charm that easy. It was merely window dressing for his was a take no prisoners approach. Her fingers slid to the ridge below the crown. "It would be hard—" 

"In case you haven't noticed, it already is."

"—for you to sleep, thinking about my hands touching you. Fast, slow, soft, hard—all the ways you like, all the places you like." Her thumb mimicked her words as it rolled over the sensitive bulb. "Isn't that the real reason you don't want to sleep on the couch?"

His eyes were heavy lidded. His whole body looked rigid but his smile waged the dare. "No."

She nipped his ear in reprisal. "Maybe it's my mouth, that'll keep you awake." She dropped light kisses along his neck and went south. His breathing changed as her tongue danced around each masculine nipple.

"That's not it." Mischief and desire played in his blue eyes, they masked his steely control. 

"I bet I know what it is," she said as she moved down and onto her knees.

Sean watched her hold his dick like it were something she was about to worship. Her lips surrounded the tip but instead of sucking, her tongue barely touched the seam. His attention was divided between trying to stand and the feel of Ana's hands and mouth teasing him. His skin felt feverish. He wished she'd suck him already. As if she'd read his mind, her lips retreated very slowly. What a tease. He felt his cock swell to follow and fill her mouth. She looked up at him with those sex-kitten eyes. He smiled down at her. God, she was such an unbelievable tease.

One hand gently pumped his erection while the other palmed the orbs below. "Is this why you don't want to sleep on the couch?" 

How'd he get so lucky?

"No," he said, trying to sound cavalier.

"I didn't think so. I'll just have to try something different," she quipped as her mouth advanced again. 

Or was he cursed?

He held onto one of the posts as her mouth and tongue engulfed him with delicious, swirling pressure. She alternated the rhythm so every sensation built off the previous pass of her mouth. Hers wasn't an aggressive get-you-off-fast technique. Ana took her time, taking turns between titillating him and gently backing off. She handled him with such care. Her moans weren't a dramatic auditory tale. In fact, he had to strain to hear them. It was as if she couldn't help being turned on but didn't want him to know how much. Her eyes would lift halfway and close slowly as she sighed. Her skilled mouth withdrew and she licked her lips with lurid swipes of her tongue. 

"I can taste myself on you."

She saw the fire in his eyes. Ah, yes. Kryptonite. She licked her lips again and watched his eyes follow the movement. She felt sexy, uninhibited and outrageously naughty. "Would you like to taste?"

He hooked his hands under her arms with an almost painful grip and pulled her up. Superman was thisclose to losing his control. She saw it in the hard set of his jaw. That emboldened her.

She flattened her palms on the wall of his chest, maintaining the small distance between them. "Do you want a little taste of me?" she asked most innocently.

"Yes," Sean growled and made a mockery of her efforts to keep him at bay.

He cupped her face and brushed his open lips over hers. She was ready for a full-on assault but his tender, restrained kisses broke through her defenses. Her mouth parted to welcome him as he traced the contours of her bottom lip with his tongue. She hugged his waist; her fingers lightly raked his back and molded the shape of his ass before settling at his nape. Sean's hands snuck under her shirt, seeking out places to make her burn. Someone moaned; she wasn't sure who. She felt his middle and index fingers bracketing her clit, but not touching it. Back and forth he went, making her arch into his expert touch. The slow, insistent throb between her legs kept building and building. It got harder to breathe easy or remain still. Ana had to break the kiss. Her blood hummed as she climbed and climbed. She buried her face in the side of his neck. Her faint noises rode a whoosh of broken air. His slow, steady massage felt— 

"That's why." His gruff words sounded so hot in her ear. 

The hand between her legs stopped moving, he cupped her chin with the other, forcing her to look at him. He looked wolfish and hungry. The corner of his lip curled up. "Those noises you make when you're about to come. That's why I won't sleep on the couch tonight and why you won't let me."

She couldn't find it in herself to disagree and leaned in for a kiss. So they were calling it even. Fair enough. But Sean's grip didn't relent. 

"Am I sleeping on the couch tonight?" he demanded. 

So much for fair play.

"No," she husked. She'd do anything he asked. That's what he wanted all along.

"Good."

And just like that Ana lost the dare. 

"What—" she exclaimed as he pushed her at shoulders and she bounced onto the middle of her fairy tale bed. She didn't need to complete her question.

"I'm breaking the first rule."

Her dirty mind raced with the possibilities his voice and intense eyes promised. "What's the first rule?" 

He dropped a knee onto the bed. "I'll show you. Now take off your shirt."

* * * * *

Ana pulled in air through her clenched teeth and hugged Sean's back as another thrust pressed her into the mattress. 

"Please." Her voice sounded weak and distant even to her own ears.

Her crossed legs bobbed over Sean's back as he moved over her in the slow, sinuous rolls she needed. He rained kisses over her damp neck, her jaw and took her whimpers into his mouth as another orgasm circled and built quickly. Ana didn't know if she wanted this to continue or end. But she wanted them to ride out this storm together. She arched her hips and used her legs to pull him deeper, encouraging the harder, more urgent drives he loved. 

"Yes!" His voice roared like low thunder. He threw his head back as she squeezed his cock within her fluttering walls. The muscles along his neck and upper arms flexed with the effort to hold back. For her. Her hands bracketed the sides of his face and she made him watch her. 

"Come with me," she crooned until his movements became jagged, until he had no choice but to pound into her. Ana enveloped him completely with her arms, her legs, her voice, her clenching sex and her eyes. Her autumn eyes were always his undoing. It was too much and not enough. He laced his fingers with hers on the pillow and gripped her hands with almost bruising force. His full weight bore down on her. Smack. Smack. Smack. That and her sobs mixing with his guttural moans were all he knew as their sexes connected again and again and again. They came in the next breath. Fierce. Hard. Deep. 

Sean shook in the aftermath, every nerve ending, every cell in his body felt blitzed. He nestled his head in the arc of her neck. The mere thought of moving from the heaven of lying between Ana's thighs exhausted him. This part of using protection was an inconvenience that rarely bothered him this often. Maybe it was because he couldn't seem to get close enough to her, he always wanted more. Her palms moved from under his; he felt her hands absently smooth his back and brush his hair from his forehead, calming him. Her gentleness reminded him how he hadn't been. 

By some miracle, he was able lift his head.

"Was I too rough?"

Ana shook her head and kissed the valley in his chin. It was thrilling to see and feel him lose control, even just a little, to be wanted that much. The concern in his voice and rueful expression made a place near her chest squeeze. She felt treasured and cared for. 

"I'm so glad you don't play by the rules," she said in a voice laced with humor and good, three a.m. sex. 

He dropped his forehead to hers.

"Me too."

Ana was on her way to sleep when she felt the bed shift. Sean was back. She felt her lips smile as his warmth surrounded her.

"Go to sleep, Belle." 

The sound drifted over her like an intimate caress. Belle. She wasn't sure whether she told him she liked it or if she dreamt she did. 

* * * * *

The heat along her back and the weight below her breasts pulled Ana to awareness. Light penetrated her closed lids. The distant tick of the bathroom clock and the rhythmic sound of Sean's breathing blended into the Sunday morning quiet. There was only peace, so unlike Saturday morning.

Yesterday she'd woken up with a sense of dread while slivers of daylight peeked from behind the drapes. How ironic, since she'd kept a clock vigil all night, willing the hours to rush by. But yesterday she didn't know her presence during a crisis would matter much to Sean. Yesterday she didn't know she'd feel safe enough to cry in front of him or that he'd hold her and wipe away her tears with such tenderness. Yesterday she didn't know how much his worries mattered to her. But today... 

Today she'd really start to accept that she couldn't control everything. That things in life didn't fall into neatly labeled boxes or always make perfect sense. She'd needed a second trip to the ER to remind her of that. She opened her eyes enough to see Sean's arm draping her middle. If she continued to insulate herself from disappointment, from the unknown, she'd be alone in this bed with the weight of missing Sean instead of the weight of his arm around her this morning.

This morning there was a calm peace and Sean. She took his hand in hers, one that had sent her soaring and pulled her up from the floor, all in one day. Things didn't have to be perfect to be enough. She dozed off petting him. No, this was more than enough.

The slight touch woke him up to a dream. That's how Ana's bedroom looked with its off-white palette imbued with pearly daylight. She was touching him, not in the way lovers did to arouse or parade their skill. This was pure affection. She tucked his arm closer to her body and went still; her fingers loosely circled his wrist. That was the moment he made up his mind. He wasn't backing off. He felt her tiny jolt when his lips touched her shoulder.

Ana turned her head to him. "Sorry." Her voice and smile were warm and sleepy, just like she was. "This is new." 

He kissed her shoulder again. She'd better get used to it.

* * * * *

A special thank you to Evanslily and TangledinYou for the encouragement and the roadmap.



Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 06



This chapter turned out longer and different than originally planned. But I had to follow where the characters wanted to go. I debated splitting it in two, but it just felt more complete as one whole chapter. Thank you for your votes, comments and emails. Several came at the perfect time and I wanted you to know I appreciated you taking the time to write. Though song lyrics from the following songs aren't quoted in this chapter, they're referenced indirectly.

*My Way: English version, lyrics by Paul Anka, derived from 1967 French pop song, Comme d'habitude performed by Claude Francois with music by Jacques Revaux and lyrics by Gilles Thibault .

* SexyBack by Justin Timberlake.

August

******

Saturday, November 18th, 2006. 12:35 AM

Lights sparkled and flashed. Cars passed in dots of color and form. The sidewalks buzzed with weekend energy. Impatient horns shouted over laughter and distant music. People walked in their individual packs on their hunt to and from the next good time. Ana strolled hand in hand with the man whose presence elevated everything around them into something beautiful. Every matching step they took was pure perfection. 

"I had my doubts about Daniel Craig but he really pulled it off. That was one of the best bond movies ever!"

Sean's blue eyes lit up and his right brow twitched in that way when something struck him as funny. "You actually noticed his acting?"

Ana tugged his hand. "Yes I did," she swore, "but c'mon you have to admit his physique's —" she trailed off, trying to find the best adjective as the trailer featuring the blond Adonis rising from the ocean, beads of water rushing over muscle, then stripped and bound in a seatless chair, looped over and over in her head. "—insane. That interrogation scene in the chair—"

"Hurt to watch. Every guy in there felt it."

Her fingers left his so she could sneak her arm around his waist. She ran her hand under the hem of his ribbed black sweater-shirt, touching the roughness of his jeans below the warmth of his skin. "Aw," she pouted sassily. "Maybe you need someone to kiss the pain away."

Sean's arm hooked her shoulders making her halt her steps when he paused to contemplate. "The only someone I've got is you." 

He rendered the information in a flat, unaffected tone, one that didn't match the way he looked at her. Not one bit. She wished she could hit the pause button or slow this moment down.

"Gee, thanks. You sure know how to make a girl feel wanted and special."

"Anytime."

He gave her a quick, appropriate-for-public-viewing kiss and escorted her to the passenger side of his silver Range Rover. She followed his unhurried stride to the driver's door. His legs covered a lot of ground with masculine grace. The black sweater-shirt hugged the breadth of his shoulders. Its high neck touched the black waves of hair at his nape. She smiled and felt a dart of envy at how his hair always had that perfect three-weeks-after-a-hair-cut look. Her eyes poured over every detail that made him and saw past them. He was still the same man she'd met four months ago, only he'd become...more...of everything. She couldn't quite describe it, but it felt good. The incessant chime of the car key finding its home made her jump out of her reverie. His question came over the click of his seatbelt. 

"You okay?" The simple question warmed her from the inside; she saw in his eyes that her answer truly mattered. These, simple, unfancy moments were a treasure. 

Ana leaned to him as far as her seatbelt allowed; Sean met her halfway. Her fingers combed the thick strands behind his ear as she whispered, "Everything's perfect." 

He couldn't agree more as her tongue traced his lower lip before melding with his. The sealed cabin amplified the smack of mouths meeting and the dry creak of leather as they leaned into each other and parted. He sampled the taste of peppermint and Ana over and over to make up for the three days he'd gone without. But it wasn't enough. She gasped when his hand left the back of her head, sliding over the delicate ridge of her right clavicle then lower to the swell of her breast. Perfect. That's how she filled his hand. She arched into his caress, letting him feel her response. Ana was so generous, so welcoming—even more so as time went on. She made a tiny sound as he strummed her nipple, feeling it rise and harden under his attention. He imagined tasting the light brown peak while he his tongue licked and circled it. 

Whistles and cheers jangled their intimate silence. Teenagers. 

Ana hurried into her seat as if she'd morphed turned into one, just caught doing something very adult and very naughty. Sean smiled as she dipped her head to avert the boys' curious gazes. He cupped her chin and stole another kiss, eliciting a roar of catcalls from the three voyeurs standing in front of the SUV. Ana blushed and ducked her head. The gesture reminded him how uninhibited she'd be once they rushed inside her apartment. He turned the key. Yes, he better take her home and put her to bed. Very soon.

The drive home should have cooled her off. It didn't. Every stoplight extended their journey to her place. The anticipation was a bittersweet torture; being in a tight space near what she wanted and having to wait. To make matters worse the police car cruising in the lane next to them, guaranteed that Sean observed the speed limit—something he often treated as a friendly suggestion. Two lights later the cruiser turned off onto a side street. 

"Okay. All's clear." 

It took but a few seconds before they surged ahead again. The white stipples on the road rushed towards them in a continuous line as the headlights pierced the night. The cityscape whizzed past her window. Her lips curled in a smile as they drove through her neighborhood. Three more lights before she shared her secret with Sean. She pressed her legs together unconsciously, imagining his first reaction when her panties were gone and he saw... 

The idea sprung up from a distant curiosity, one she'd never felt the urge to act on until three days ago. Ana hadn't expected she'd feel so naughty and sexy—in the days after her spa appointment. She'd done it mostly for Sean, now it felt utterly self-indulgent. Slices of amber light slid across Sean's face and chest. Her eyes drifted where the streetlights didn't, her hand followed. It started as a need to be linked by touch, then need gave way to desire. Another latent curiosity took shape, and became a fantasy. One she had to try on. Now.

Two more lights.

Sean caught the hand sliding up his thigh. He cast a quick look to his right and felt a dull ache where Ana intended to touch him. Her hand shifted impatiently under his before he lifted it to his mouth. 

"Soon," he promised against her knuckles and released her hand. 

He smiled, thinking ahead to when he'd slowly undo the buttons on her khaki trench dress. The devilish look on her face made him long to tease her in every way until she begged for mercy, the way she hated to love.

He'd just casually tossed a flare into a sea of gasoline with one word. Instead of placating her, he taunted her with the pleasures to come. Her hand fell onto his denim covered thigh. But this time her fingers didn't inch up the rough material. This time her touch was bold and direct.

"What are you doing!?" His words thundered in the tight space. 

Another flare got tossed into the fire when his hushed moan touched her ears. Nervous excitement covered her skin. Could she really pull this off? Ana studied his face and flicked away the last shreds of hesitation. Her hand moved over the ridge of his zipper. She purred with brazen confidence when she spoke. "You mean you don't know? I thought you graduated the top of your class."

One more light.

Sean's hand circled her wrist. He could have pulled her hand away already—if he really wanted to. "Keep both hands on the wheel." Her demand brokered no argument but Sean being Sean, he wouldn't submit easily. Yet.

"We're almost...home," he announced as they cruised under the yellow traffic light.

"That's nice," she quipped as her palm curved over the growing bulge. "Now put your hand on the wheel." Ana shook her head, cutting him off when he tried to speak. "Stop your half-assed protesting, counselor." Her fingers flexed and he squirmed. "My counter argument keeps getting stronger, doesn't it?"

Sean gave her a wry smile and turned into her apartment complex with both hands on the steering wheel. Ana's seatbelt clicked and flew back to the doorframe as they drove past row after row of parked cars until they came to her building. She leaned over and pressed the release button on his restraint the instant he cut the engine. The button on his jeans had already slipped through the hole when he realized Ana intended to continue. His cock leapt as she tugged at the zipper. She really wanted to do this? Here?

Despite the adrenaline and lust racing through his veins, he had to be sure she wanted this. 

"Belle, we should go upstairs"

Her sultry brown eyes stayed on his. 

"Why?" Her eyes went to his mouth "I really want to do this here. It's kind of been a fantasy of mine—going down on you in a car." She licked the corner of his lower lip with the tip of her tongue. "You'd be doing me a favor in letting me act it out, there's even an outside chance you might enjoy it too," she whispered to his mouth. "Will you let me?" 

His hands found the back of her head and he kissed the question right off her lips. As if he could ever say no when she spoke in that kittenish voice. The tip of his tongue touched hers and slid slowly inside. Ana melted into him; her shallow breaths drifted over the side of his face, making him hot and achy. The scrape of the metallic teeth coming apart sounded unnaturally loud to his ears. It was the unzipping of a lifetime. 

She broke the kiss, her eyes on his while her fingers snuck inside his parted jeans. Her smile was slow and knowing as she felt him react to her caresses. The next moments were a flurry of her hands pulling and tugging at his jeans while Sean shifted in his seat to help Ana free him from the confines of his boxers. Sean watched as her fingers closed around his hardening shaft. Her gentle touch sent prickles of energy right there. 

Head in his lap, Ana looked up at him. "Maybe you should adjust your seat."

She didn't have to say it twice. His hands fumbled to find the lever before he felt the backrest recline. 

She chuckled at his eagerness to comply. "Much better." Her voice was low, her breath a hot wisp of air along his overheated skin.

Ana ran her tongue over the smooth column from base to tip and back, making repeated passes until his cock was moist enough for her hands to fondle him easily. Before Sean, she'd always felt detached from this part of sex. She'd done it for her partner's pleasure—being a source of enjoyment rewarded her with a mild ego boost. She watched the textures and contours of his erect skin become beautiful proof of his desire for her. With Sean, every lick of her tongue, every stroke of her hands became an expression of lust and affection. His whispered moans were more than a gentle pat on the back, giving him pleasure was as much for him as it was for her. Ana looked up at him. She made his face contort, made his nostrils flare, made him arch his head into the headrest. This power awed and humbled her at once. 

His fingers threaded her hair. "Yes," he hissed as she nuzzled the pouch between his legs. Her other hand's index and thumb circled the base of his cock, keeping it in place while her tongue repeatedly flicked the seam of his reddish pink glans. The sounds he made sent a rush of heat and arousal under her skin. She licked the tiny drops from the smooth oval head and wrapped her tongue around the sensitive ridge. 

Sean pushed back the waves of hair veiling her face, capturing it in a loose ponytail. Shadows and light drifted over her face, shoulders and back. He wanted to see her face, to watch his dick disappear into her mouth. There was a fire in her tenderness tonight, her mouth ambitiously taking more of his length than he recalled in the past. His eyes were glued to the outline of his cock bulging below her cheek. Every drop of blood in his body raced south as she tilted her head repeatedly. 

"Ah, yes!" he spat in a muffled sound while writhing under mouth and guiding her head with his hand, "just like that. Yes. Yes!" 

The tingle of peppermint and the change in texture around his dick—from the suede of Ana's tongue, to the slick, silk inside her cheek—dragged almost inaudible grunts and sighs from him. She released him from her mouth with a wet pop. The sound bounced around his head and scraped his spine. He sucked his breath while her lips descended to the base then lower; her questing fingers found the secret spot below. His broken sounds filled the air. 

"Oh—God!"

A bright light danced over the dashboard, reminding him they were in a parking lot. The threat of discovery turned up the erotic temperature inside the cocoon of the SUV. His skin felt tight and feverish. His heart pulsed and throbbed straight to his cock where Ana's mouth had taken up residence again. The gentle serration of her teeth along the sensitive underside tickled and made him lurch. She touched and licked and sucked him until the energy between them merged, gathering strength like a hurricane over warm water. Everything moved faster, together—her hands, her mouth, the jut of his hips—hurtling him towards climax. Sean felt his pleasure pulsing, surging up from the deepest part of him and rocketing to the surface. She needed to know how close he was—she must have missed the signals.

His warning came on an urgent whisper "I'm going to to come." He tugged gently on her hair. "Belle," he choked, "I'm close...close...I'm gonna—"

Ana's eyes met his, her moan of approval let him know she understood. 

Only she wasn't responding the way he expected. 

Realization pummeled his drunken brain, one after the other, after the other. Ana wasn't stopping. He couldn't stop himself. Oh, fuck! His vision hazed over. He was about to come—in Ana's mouth. Their first time. Her first time. His hips jerked under her ministrations. Her moans hummed around the swelling head, calling him to his release. And then he was there. He fisted the ends of her hair in one hand; the other flung against the door handle with a thud. He felt no pain, only the agony of imminent pleasure. 

"Ah, fu-uck!" he groaned as he shuddered and burst in Ana's hot mouth. A wave of ecstasy rode in on the heels of the quick, liquid spurts she drank from him. He felt like broken straw, panting and barely able to smooth her back with his trembling hand.

Ana raised her head, high on lust, power and feminine sensuality. She licked her lips, testing the mysterious, metallic taste of the cloudy dollops Sean had poured on her tongue. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears when she spoke. "I think I want to do this again." 

Sean nodded, still looking dazed as she helped him adjust his clothes. She put that satisfied look on his face. Ana kissed his damp cheek as he pulled the key out of the ignition. Suddenly energized, she reached to the backseat, grabbed her boxed portion of dinner and vaulted from the Range Rover. 

A beige, shaggy little dog approached her as she waited for Sean to exit. The canine's nose zeroed in on the plastic bag dangling from her hand. The poor thing looked so thin, she had no choice but to pull out the Styrofoam container and put it on the ground. The dog pounced on the chicken pasta but scampered away after the first bite when the car door slammed on Sean's side. 

"It's okay," she whispered and crouched down. She turned her head to Sean with her index tapping her mouth. The dog returned to swallow the gourmet offering in three hearty swipes. "Aw," she cooed with regret, "if it wasn't for the steep pet deposit, I'd take you home with me."

Sean heard the disappointed note in Ana's voice while she talked to the stray pup. He swallowed as an invisible heft lurched in his chest. He recognized what it was and knew where it was going. 

Ana stood, her eyes fixed on the dog as it dashed behind the bushes. She turned and held out her hand as she walked towards him. 

"Ready?"

Sean took her smaller hand in his and nodded But for the first time in months, he wasn't so sure of his answer.

* * * * *

"I don't remember seeing these before." 

Ana leaned against the front door, her shirtdress hung open like a long coat and grazed her knees. Sean's palms were planted on either side of head. The roughish glitter in his blue eyes made her feel feverish. Her legs shifted and squirmed while his gaze drifted over her like a warm caress.

"They're new. I bought them for you—and me too," she explained of the white tulle embroidered bra and matching string bikini panties. Panties that were damp—her awareness of it more acute now that her sex was bare, but for a tiny strip of curls. The secret knowledge of what he'd find when he touched her there made her want to hurry him. But Sean had other ideas as the back of his right hand started its descent from her ear. He planted a kiss below her earlobe, making her gasp and tremble.

He heard the sound Ana made. God, she was hot tonight. His lips curled as he lifted his head. Tonight would be a long, slow burn. His knuckles swept down her neck and across her shoulder. He traced the thin gauzy strap and the dainty ribbon above the swell of her breast. The white color set off her golden, creamy complexion. The material was sheer enough to allow glimpses of skin to show throw. He saw a light brown half-circle peeking from under an embroidered flower. Lower he went, brushing the scalloped edge of the demi-cup down to the valley between her breasts. The pad of his index finger snuck under the clasp. Good. Easy access. He was about to release her from the delicate restraint then hesitated. She looked so gorgeous, he couldn't decide whether he wanted to enjoy her naked or in her innocent lingerie. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt, after all she'd bought them with him in mind. The idea she'd done so was such a turn on. 

He stated the obvious just in case she didn't already know. "They're very sexy." His palm smoothed down her stomach, making it retreat from his touch when she took a sharp inhale. "Just like you."

His fingers traced the string along her hip, skimming along the waistband. Ana arched her body, seeking more contact. Sean didn't deny her and cupped her lace covered mound. His hand settled over her, feeling her heat and dampness. He kissed her neck before he spoke; his hand stroking between her legs. "I'm going to have to thank you over and over."

Sean could have meant it a hundred different ways. The wicked promise of his words created a sensual coiling in her core.

He looked down at her. "You're very hot tonight." 

She proved his point by pulling his head to hers. Her tongue sought his and he tasted himself there. He was instantly reminded of those feverish moments when she pleasured him with such unabashed generosity and delight. She made a soft sound as his hand moved over her sex. 

"I don't know if I'll be able to put out the fire. But I'm going to try." 

He kissed the corner of her smile. 

"Again." 

He nipped her ear and caught a whiff the honeyed vanilla-patchouli she reserved for the evenings. It was faint enough to make his nose seek more of her perfume. 

"And again." 

She gasped and buried her fingers in his hair when he cupped her breasts.

Ana's bangle clanked against the door as Sean suckled her nipple. The heat of his mouth and the sheer veil of her bra made for an exquisite torment. She felt his fingers at the catch and the felt the fabric give. His mouth quickly covered the tight peak, while his fingers rolled its twin. He switched sides, one hand behind her shoulders holding her to him as if she'd ever think to leave. She rubbed against him and the rough textures of his clothes against her skin made every nerve sizzle.




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 06



"Sean." It was a plea and a command.

He looked at the expressions flickering across her face. Desire, anticipation and something he couldn't name. He tasted her impatience when their tongues met. He wanted to drink her in, to make her a part of him and become a part of her. Her legs trembled as his hands stroked her back, followed the nip of her waist and the curves of her hips then lower. She bit her lip unconsciously, looking like a virgin bride on her wedding night. The idea made his gut clench especially when he remembered the first they'd just shared tonight.

Ana moved restlessly beneath Sean's touch. His fingers skimmed the edge of material along her thigh. Soon he would see her and touch her. She felt his fingers creep beneath the thin fabric. Skin met skin—and only skin. She knew the instant Sean noticed the difference. His whole body went rigid; the line above his jaw twitched. 

Sean tried to speak but he couldn't find a thing to say while the pads of his fingers slid over Ana's slick flesh. His cock throbbed in sync with his pulse. He held her pussy in the palm of his hand. She was almost bare and he had to see her, taste her. Her dimple appeared and she pressed herself deeper into his touch. "I did this for—" she hissed when his thumb dipped into her wet folds. "—for both of us."

He knew the answer but had to ask. "Did it hurt a lot?"

The wry arch of her brow was so eloquent and adorable. 

"Um—I think everyone at the spa could tell by the look on my face that I'd been waxed."

His hands settled on her hips. "I think you definitely deserve to have someone to kiss the pain away."

"Yeah?"

Sean nodded with enthusiasm.

Her brown eyes looked upward; her mouth twisted in contemplation. "Who can I find at this hour?"

He dropped a trail of kisses down her neck and collarbone. She was just so damned cute and sexy and irreverent. "A woman like you must have men lined up out the door," he said above the slope of her breasts, smiling the whole time.

"I'm very picky though."

"Hard to please?" The question came as he raised her thigh to his waist.

"No—not if you know what you're doing," she muttered as Sean dipped to her eye level. 

He hoisted her up in the next breath; her arms and legs wrapped around him automatically. She knew firsthand he had every reason to boast when he promised with a heated look, "Then I'm your man because I definitely know what I'm doing." 

Ana held onto him as he crossed the bedroom in long, easy strides. She pressed her lips into the arc of his neck and glimpsed their image passing in the mirror from the corner of her eyes. 

* * * * *

She'd sat countless times in this antique bergère after helping him undress. She should be used to the sight of him kneeling before her. The diffused light falling over the ridges and lines of his skin were nothing new to her. She knew his every gesture would be executed with slow, ritualistic detail: The reverent glide of his hand down her leg. The careful release of her foot from the animal print slingback. The soft thud of the shoe as it hit the ebony wooden floors. A kiss on her ankle, another one delivered to her the sensitive arch. His steadying hand keeping her foot still when his feathery kisses tickled her. Then he'd turn his attention to her other leg, repeating the cycle again. None of this was unfamiliar, yet her breath halted and rushed as if this were the first time. His touch, his kisses felt new. 

Ana scooted to the edge of the chair and cupped his face. He loosely held her wrists and turned to press a kiss into each palm. Sean cupped her breasts and submitted each one to the swirls of his tongue, alternating with the suction of his mouth. She still wore her dress; her bra hung off her shoulders like an open vest. There was an added decadent allure in being semi-dressed in front of his nude form. His kneeling before her created an odd dance of power. He was her servant, her slave, waiting to worship. She was his prize, waiting to be claimed.

He eased back and pressed her knees together before he hooked his thumbs into the thin line of lace on her hips. Ana leaned back and tilted her hips to help him slide her little panties slowly down her legs. She was clutching the armrests while the delicate lace floated past her heels. 

He pushed her legs apart and kissed the inside of her right knee, inhaling her sweet oriental fragrance before he draped her right knee over the armrest. His lips curled in anticipation and pleasure as his eyes roamed her flushed face, to her heaving breasts with puckered nipples wet from his mouth, down over her taut, creamy skin to her beautiful, pink center. He touched her everywhere his eyes had been until he passed her navel. He took a breath, letting the scent of Ana's arousal sweep his senses. His mouth watered thinking about tasting her dewy flesh. 

He shook his head as he spoke, his gaze darted up to her brown eyes. "I can't believe you can still blush after all this time—especially after what you just did to me."

His reminder and his hungry expression when he said it made her feel like captured prey. Ana gulped as she watched the slow, slow descent of Sean's dark head between her legs. She all but jumped when she felt his chin along her inner thigh. Soon. Here it comes. And then came the first flutter of his tongue. She fell back into the chair like a puppet with its strings cut. She arched her back and squeezed her nipple while Sean nuzzled and licked her over and over in random circles. Her other hand tangled in his hair with every shift of his head. She crooned and hissed as two long fingers slid into her hot pussy. The back and forth glide made her tap and point her left foot on the hard, polished floor. 

"O-oh!" she wailed quietly on a choppy exhale when his mouth suckled her clit. The external suction and internal stroking launched her into orbit. Sean's fingers curled inside her trembling pussy, calling her to come, calling her to crash. Her right leg flailed on the armrest as she thrashed about in the chair. He reached up to pinch her nipple. Ana imploded. She curled in around the hot sensation only to feel it radiate out over her. 

Sean looked up at the breathless mess that was Ana. Her eyes were closed; a light sheen covered her forehead. Her stomach and chest rolled in waves as she grabbed bits of air. He eased his fingers out of her and flexed them; still feeling her pussy's fierce grip around them. He thought ahead to the moments when his cock would replace his fingers and hardened. Ana offered him a weak smile. She moved her right leg down the arm but Sean stopped the movement. Her brown eyes opened wide as she understood.

He shook his head and licked the gloss on his lips. "I'm not done yet."

* * * * * 

Sean held her ankle, keeping her leg steady on his shoulder and pressed his mouth into her arch. He felt her shiver; her skin was still oversensitive as she recovered from her climax. His slow, shallow thrusts were to give Ana time to calm down while he kept her close enough to take the next leap. One she didn't know lay just around the corner, judging from the flush of satisfaction on her face. Her hair spilled onto the pillow in curly ropes and a few tendrils clung to her neck. Her mauve lips were fuller from kisses and her golden skin glistened with their combined sweat. He stroked the damp thigh fused to his until his fingers skimmed the top of her sex. A slow smile tugged at his lips as saw the narrow strip of curls plastered to her bare pussy. His sheathed cock barely emerged from her opening before it pressed in. Ana's eyes fluttered.

"Sean," she sighed with lazy contentment. She'd reached a comfortable plateau. Now she was ready for more.

It happened so quickly. One moment she was floating on a dreamy cloud and the next, Sean strummed her clit, dragging her back into the fire. His knees dug into the mattress as he thrust into her with renewed vigor. The position rendered Ana completely at the mercy of his strokes. She took every bit of him as he gave and gave, tilting her hips up to meet his thrusts. She heard his groans as his thigh slapped against hers. Every pump of his hips pushed her up the bed, pushed her close to another orgasm. His thumb pressed and circled her swollen clit until pleasure shimmered and pulsed. Everything came in flashes: Sean kneeling above her. Her leg draped over his shoulder. The lines of his abs contracting each time he rocked against her. The canopy's paisley pattern swaying faster and faster above them. Ana wanted him to come with her but it was already too late when she opened her mouth to speak. 

Her broken sobs spurred him on. Sean clenched his jaw as her pussy clamped around his cock. He wanted to draw out every second for as long as he could. He eased her leg from his shoulder and kept still inside her while the rhythmic clasp around his shaft became a weak flutter.

"You didn't come," Ana said with threads of disappointment running through her thin voice.

He leaned onto his palms. "Soon," he promised against her mouth and kissed her softly.

Ana smiled under his lips, rubbing his shoulders and back while she waited for him. She was surprised by the sudden shift, shocked even. Yet her body felt too limp but comply when Sean turned her onto her side and arranged her top leg in a ninety degree angle. "W-what—"

She understood the "what" as Sean straddled her bottom leg. He guided the tip of his shaft to her entrance and planted his hands on either side of her. Her insides clenched in anticipation when he tensed and leaned behind her. He filled her in one urgent thrust. She bit back a whimper as a sharp stab of pleasure dulled after his first retreating stroke. Sean surged inside her again and she exhaled with relief as the pleasure-pain sensation faded even more. Her body couldn't bear another climax. It was his turn now. The fine scattering of hair on his thigh tickled her fingers as they coasted over his thigh. He was raging a battle with his tightly leashed control; every muscle from his neck, to his arms and past his hips strained with it. Tiny drops fell from his face and burst on her skin. Warm embers flared inside her as Sean threw back his head. He was close to giving into his pleasure. She pulled his thigh to her, encouraging him to finally seek his release. Ana couldn't tear her eyes away as he withdrew and drove into her hard. She loved watching and hearing him come.

Her orgasm came from nowhere. It broadsided her, splintering her into sharp fragments of pleasure. Her second, agonized shout was airborne even as the first ricocheted around the bedroom. She covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the scream that would pierce the wall between her and her neighbor. She shook her head in denial even as her satin heat convulsed around his cock. Through the haze she saw Sean moving above her, pushing inside her with fierce power. He wasn't just penetrating her with the hard column thrusting into her. He gave her all of him.

"Please," she implored on a broken whisper and bit her lower lip. She squeezed her eyes shut when Sean answered with an amazing stroke. His awestruck groans buzzed in her ears. Her eyes flew open when he had found that sweet spot inside her. Again. 

"I c-an't—oh!" Ana sobbed and shook her head as drive after drive proved she could and would. She pounded the mattress as pleasure swept over her then grabbed onto the only thing that could take her through this. Holding onto Sean's wrist, she felt his strength beneath the fine hair, skin and sinew. Their eyes collided; his blue gaze probed her with the same intensity of his thrusts. The moment transcended skin, sweat and sex. Ana had been launched into someplace new.

Sean froze as the pressure of his release raced to the surface. Her hand squeezed his wrist and he plummeted from the edge. He shuddered and gritted his teeth as the hot liquid rush burst from him. The ragged sound of her name spun around him as pleasure took hold. He fisted the sheet drove into her one last time with everything he had before he collapsed.

A blend of sex and honeyed patchouli perfumed the air Sean was trying to breathe. It cost him every once of strength to keep his weight braced on his forearms on either side of her face. He buried his damp forehead in Ana's hair, taking in its green apples-and-sunshine scent while she spoke. The intimate, gravely sound sent sharp needles down his spine. 

"That was—" 

He lifted his head to look at her flushed, satisfied face. She turned her head and he watched her watch him. Goosebumps covered his skin. She pressed her lips to his

"There are no words for it," Ana concluded, her tired voice still laced with awe. 

Oh, yes there is.

Sean buried his head in her neck, too spent to even speak. 

* * * * *

Monday, November 20th. 

Ana clicked on the contact link and scribbled the names and numbers in her notepad. She typed in the address for the next site on her list but the link for Simon Garret's discussion board appeared. The cyber detour tempted her fingers but the ringing jumped at her ears first. The number on the caller ID made her smile.

"Hey, chickadee," Ana said while she looked down at her watch. "You're up late, everything okay?"

"Yeah," Michelle replied without conviction. "Zach went to Atlanta this afternoon for a training seminar. The house feels so empty without him. I miss him so much already."

Connecting to that forlorn note in Michelle's voice had become easier, like the new understanding of a foreign language. There was no allergy as the loving ache in her friend's tone filled her ears.

"Oh, I see how it is. For a minute there, I thought you were calling because you missed me. I'm so hurt," Ana teased, then added, "I'm sure he's already thinking about coming back home to you. Should make for a hot reunion—like you haven't thought of it already." 

Michelle laughed just as Ana hoped she would. 

"So how are you? How are things going with the boyfriend?" 

Michelle's question reminded her of two things: Moving back to California had been a great decision. And Sean wasn't her officially her boyfriend. But unofficially...there were signs they'd left the sex-and-good-times-only aisle. Like the pyjama bottoms in her drawer and the second toothbrush sitting on her bathroom vanity. And there were signs over at Sean's house as well. Like the bottle of Pure Grace in his shower and the tin of masala chai in the kitchen cabinet—items he'd bought because he'd noticed them here. The orchid standing behind her laptop had been a birthday gift—a big surprise because she'd made the comment about them being her favorite just one time in passing. All signs they were making room for the other in their lives; all of them unspoken. 

"Work's kicking my butt this week because we're hosting this charity event for high school art education next month, and the planning just got dropped in my lap. I really want to knock it out of the park."

"You still have time though, right?"

"We're cutting it close. I mean, I'm still trying to get confirmation on a venue. And it's a challenge with the holidays coming up—lots of office parties."

"Oy," Michelle said with empathy, "that does create a few bumps."

"I just wish Stacy had turned it over to me sooner because she left a lot of details hanging that could've been finalized weeks ago. But other than that and the fact that I'm a bit bloated, I'm doing great," she said with a half-laugh.

"And how's Sean?" Michelle drawled in a sing-song voice.

"He's at band rehearsal," Ana said with a smile in her voice. "A guitar player for one of the bands his label is singing sprained a wrist so they asked Sean to fill in for some of their nightclub gigs 'cause they've played together a few times." 

Michelle's voice was warm and conspiratorial. "Sounds like you've got a rocker boyfriend."

Boyfriend. Somehow the word fell way short. Her script on what a boyfriend was, how a boyfriend felt, had become ancient and inadequate. But she didn't say this to Michelle. It was too new to share, too fragile to be tagged with adjectives.

"I guess so."

But Michelle had no qualms about visiting unnamed lands. "You've been going out a while now," she started. 

An invisible slinky tumbled down Ana's spine, making every vertebrae stiffen on its way."It's been about four months." Whether that constituted "a while" or not, the months had flown by. Yet Sean had also become as close a friend as the amateur FBI agent on the other end of the phone line. 

"That's a good sign, right? Are you guys getting serious?" 

The question was as straightforward as the answer was complicated. Michelle was reaching in to hold her relationship up to the light, twisting and turning it to find its value, its flaws. But Ana wasn't having it.

"We're taking it one day at a time."

"You mean you haven't talked about it?"

Suddenly four months meant nothing and the white orchid in front of her disappeared. But Ana wasn't having it.

"I know you mean well, but I'm happy." A strand of defensive barbwire had found its way into her words. "Really," she added for emphasis. "I don't need to put a title on my relationship with Sean to feel good about where we're at or the way he treats me." 

"I know you," Michelle said to reaffirm that she could access to the restricted areas in Ana's mind. "I know you care about Sean," she paused for matching emphasis. "A lot. I just don't want you to settle for less than you deserve by—"

"I'm not settling." 

Sean was one of the finest people she'd ever met. How could that be settling? Michelle was way off base. Ana was ready to correct her best friend's presumption but Michelle beat her to it.

"I didn't mean it like that," she countered. "I just hope you ask for what you want when the time comes."

Ana went still, not quite sure about this detour Michelle had taken them on.

"I know what it's like to be so independent that you don't even realize you're shutting people out because you're so used to taking care of everything on your own. If I didn't learn that letting someone in didn't undermine my independence, I would've missed out Zach.

"I tell you and Sasha everything." 

"It's different with a man though. I'm saying you've always chosen guys who were fun but you didn't take too seriously or you'd test them until they failed."

"What about Chris?"

Michelle paused and let out a breath. "Okay—I still think he's a douche bag for what he did but come on, were you really that into him? And don't you think you pushed him away...just a little?"

Oh, that one was tough to take. Michelle continued before Ana could mount any defense.

"I mean he used to call asking me how you were and what he should do to help you because you'd disappear."

Ripples of sadness radiated over Ana as she remembered those days and weeks when her hands rarely touched her phone, unless it was Sasha or Michelle. She'd go home every day after work and bundle up in a blanket of guilt. A weekend would pass visiting "if only" before she saw the sun again on Mondays. If only she hadn't begged her mother to meet her at the mall to help her pick out a new outfit to wear for Chris' birthday. Her mother hadn't been feeling well but Ana insisted an outing together beat staying home and feeling under the weather. She'd gotten the dress and lost her mother. For what? A dress she never took out of the bag. A birthday that passed observing death. A boyfriend she knew wasn't The One and who turned to a woman she had to see five days a week. If only. The words didn't pull her in the undertow the way they used to. 

"You're right. I did push Chris away." It was a bitter admission, one that took two years to make. It felt like she'd released him from the dark hole he belonged in for eternity and a sense of acceptance and relief took its place. 




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 06



"But that was an entirely different situation. I'm not the same person I was back then."

"And what about Sean?"

"He's nothing like Chris." Or anyone else for that matter. "It's not the same."

"I know," Michelle said with complete certainty. "I hope you do too."

"What do you mean?"

"You weren't in love with Chris."

Ana's insides tightened. Was she saying? Wait. Technically, Michelle hadn't said anything. Oh, she was good. She was going to let it just hang in the air, unspoken and make Ana figure it out for herself. 

"Ana?"

Or maybe not.

"I'm here," she said quietly.

"What are you thinking?" 

You just planted a bunch of mini bombs over here and set the timer. You know I'm going to be analyzing everything you just said for days. If you weren't my best friend, I'd...I'd. Ugh. I can't even be pissed at you! 

"I know what you're tying to say and you mean well—"

"But?"

"It's only been a few months. Sean and I are still getting to know each other." 

Michelle slinked out of her pink bulldozer and crept into stealth mode. "Mm-hmm." She might as well have said: "Girl, please."

"I'll cross that bridge when...if we got to it. I'm just trying to enjoy life right now, just as it is, without everything having to be lined up ahead of time. Didn't you and Sasha tell me to be happy and just go for it?"

"Yeah," Michelle conceded. 

Ana cut Michelle off before she added anything more. "That's what I'm doing—on my terms, my way." 

Nothing like invoking Ole Blue Eyes to punctuate a statement with a slam dunk. She was suddenly glad for the miles of country between them as she pictured the look on Michelle's face right now. 

"Okay—and you do sound happy every time we talk," Michelle said gently. "And I didn't mean you have to have it all figured with Sean. Feelings don't have a timeline and they don't give you advance notice.

Her gentle persistence made Ana smile and suddenly she wished there weren't miles of country between them. Phones and emails were great but it just wasn't the same. She blinked several times at the acidic sting behind her eyes.

"You're quiet over there." 

"Talking like this reminds me how much I miss you."

"I know," Michelle said emphatically. "I'm saving money so I can come visit. You better be doing the same!"

"I am," Ana swore. "I might able visit after the holidays because, there's word at the office Medusa's going to be promoted to senior vice president of design. If Stacy replaces her, it could mean promotions for a bunch of us—including yours truly." 

Michelle chuckled. "I still can't believe you guys call her Medusa!"

"Girl, I almost slipped up one time and said it to her face!" Ana cringed at the memory.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yes! I think I stuttered a few times trying to cover it—she must've thought I was some weirdo. The funny thing is I've never even called her by that name to anyone in the office; I've just gotten used to hearing it all the time."

"Do you think she knew?" Michelle asked in a hushed voice.

"No 'cause the next day she asked me to design a necklace for her. The way she asked was classic," Ana laughed.

"Okay?"

Ana hurried to explain. "Picture Meryl Streep again in the Devil Wears Prada—the whole constipated whisper going on."

Michelle's laughter rolled in Ana's ear. "You're so bad."

"If you met her you'd understand that I'm not exaggerating one bit. I swear everybody at the office who's seen the movie goes: 'she's just like Miranda Priestley!'." 

"Okay, so I come back from my lunch break and there's this note on my desk asking me to come to her office. And I'm thinking: 'Oh, shit! This can't be good.' I go to her office and I have to wait 'cause she's in a meeting. And I'm sitting there wondering why she'd want to see me; we rarely meet up or speak. So I go in and she has this weird look on her face." 

Ana now realized it must have been the woman's unease at having to ask a subordinate and vague acquaintance for something personal in nature.

Michelle hung on every word as Ana imitated her boss' pinched, snooty whisper. "Then she starts: I understand you made the necklace pendant Claudia is wearing. Like it's killing her to say she liked it! Then she goes: I was wondering if you could design something for me—something different of course."

"Of course," Michelle echoed, pitch perfect. Their conversation went on, weaving in and out of the two lives being lived on opposite coasts until the time zones and miles between them faded. 

"I've been meaning to tell you, I got the pictures from Simon today."

* * * * *

The web address for Simon's discussion board was still waiting to be chosen when Ana put down the phone. She clicked the mouse, deciding on quick peek before she got back to the contacts for the charity event. Besides, Simon's board teemed with advice on workplace politics and power games. A shift in rank was occurring at DesignHause and if the fundraiser turned out well, it might give the new kid on the block some recognition as a candidate for a promotion. 

She scrolled through the posts on remaining neutral and making great accomplishments appear effortless. But the, most active discussions weren't about the workplace and how to get your colleagues to worship you. No, the juiciest, most controversial posts were about personal relationships. Ana had even contributed to some online drama at one time. She pointed the arrow to her lasts posts and there it was: the big blow-up. Her eyes drifted over the crossfire between his coolly crafted words and her thinly veiled barbs. 

PacificCoastRiff. His handle was evocative yet in tune with his ambiguous posts. He had a way of steering a discussion to unexpected vistas with fewer than fifty words. He'd accumulated less than four-hundred posts in his three year tenure. But when he posted, it was the whisper that quieted the clatter of mindless noise and made every ear strain to hear it. Board members treated his replies like a revered king's anointing tap on the shoulder from the edge of his sword. 

But the lure of PacificCoastRiff's persona hadn't been the reason why she'd sent him a private message to compliment him on his thoughts on the media frenzy surrounding certain Hollywood starlets: He didn't find the media's presentation of female sex appeal to be remotely sexy—it encouraged women to oversell yet undervalue themselves, leaving little in the way of true intrigue or substance. It wasn't amazement that his words had elevated a tabloidy subject—clearly outside Riff's interests— into a thought provoking discussion that made her want to befriend him. 

No, other board members told her Riff knew Simon Garret. Ana didn't know to what extent, but she hoped she'd get Riff to share his impressions of Simon. The website had been created so its members and their thoughts were the stars, leaving little of Simon's personality to haunt the space. She desperately looked for any tidbit on Simon to guide her on how best to approach him and what to expect if they ever met. If indeed Gideon Garret and Simon Garret were one in the same person. 

A week had passed before Riff replied but the delay had been worthwhile, it wasn't the terse thank you she'd expected. He'd welcomed her to the discussion board and teased her about being a lurker, encouraging her to post. It turned out to be a cruel irony when she finally accepted his invitation to the ball. There'd swapped a few more private messages but Riff kept the focus so precisely on her, Ana had found no natural segue into his rumored friendship with Simon. 

She'd been picking over her regrets about her split with Chris by then. He'd been the one to speak the words, but Ana had burrowed in a cave of grief and guilt, essentially vanishing from their relationship months before. Chris, being a gregarious extravert, always needed to be with someone, he didn't do alone well or for long. Ana knew and accepted that he'd move onto some nameless, faceless woman. But the face he'd turned to a scant three weeks later had been a familiar one: Vanessa Hudson, the co-worker who'd played matchmaker for Chris and her. 

The speed and intimacy of their union raised all kinds of questions. They denied ever having gone out while Ana and Chris were still a couple, but Ana suspected word games. Cheating started before penetration. Something had been going on. Vanessa's treacly hellos and shifty eyes reeked of guilt. Chris no longer parked in front of the design studio as he'd done when he picked up Ana for lunch dates. He stashed the getaway car in the rear parking lot where they were no windows to witness his arrival. They'd professed to doing it all out of consideration for Ana's feelings. 

At the time, Ana only saw two people paying lip service to caring about her feelings so they didn't have to own their duplicity. Every secretive maneuver drew more and more of the attention they'd sought to avoid. That new injustice paired with the one that robbed her of her mom, bred anger. An ire so ferocious it invigorated a body and spirit once quieted by depression. The bitter taste of loss and being left behind was too much. The ten months of silent withholding in grief and bafflement were over. While scouring the posts on Simon's website for possible strategies to arm herself against the army of victim antics Vanessa paraded at the office, Ana had found a target worthy of her wrath: PacificCoastRiff.

How ironic that mere weeks before she'd understood why his online persona fascinated everyone. To the women who openly flirted with him, Riff was a rogue pirate in modern clothes. A man who clearly thought there was much more to appreciate about a woman than bedding her. He embraced the idea of falling for a woman's charms. There was no forced machismo in his posts, sometimes he'd flirt back but he wasn't preoccupied with being liked. That made him all the more appealing. He was the brave gladiator among the men, only he'd traded in the sword and shield for sharp wit and intellect. Riff didn't apologize for being a man. His opinions didn't always fall in line with the consensus because he didn't view consensus as a barometer to skip independent thought. His popularity was a product of him not caring about popularity. The fact that he was part of Simon's inner circle added to his allure.

Ana rolled the dial, the words that started it all framed in the monitor like a photograph. It was Riff's response to a thread about a guy who enjoyed casual sex with a woman while she wanted a bona fide relationship. The author was on the horns of dilemma: burst her romantic bubble or inflate it by omitting the truth with the word games Ana despised. Riff sauntered into the discussion full of his trademark swagger and brevity: Why do you need to apologize for knowing you don't want a long term relationship? Treat her like the adult she is and let her decide for herself. Wouldn't you want the same thing?

It appeared refreshingly direct at first, but that was before anger had washed her filter clean. She had weeded through the old threads and collected other pieces before she launched her critique.

I don't hold back with a woman. I enjoy her completely for however long or short we decide. I expect her to do the same.

I don't give up because she's too complicated, too much of a challenge or because I made mistakes. I give up when her wanting me doesn't matter anymore.

The verdict was in: Riff was no swashbuckling cyber hero, he was the goodwill ambassador for shitty boyfriends and players worldwide. And Ana wasn't going to sit back and let him wax philosophical when all she saw was the old love 'em and leave 'em bullshit being spun into eighteen karat gold. Oh, Chris would have loved Riff. 

Chris had been the one she craved lashing out against but Ana wouldn't give him or Vanessa the satisfaction of seeing her break. She wouldn't make it easy for them to cast her in the bitchy ex-girlfriend role. No, Ana went to work early every day and sucked it up, just so Vanessa could writhe in her underhanded filth. The shifty eyes and squirming that once annoyed and aroused suspicion transformed into a perversely satisfying balm. But it wasn't enough. She'd felt cast aside and left behind. They were happily living their lives without a care, as if Ana had misplaced a set of keys.

After a month of being harnessed, the angry energy demanded its release. Ana shook her head as she read her words. She felt a mix of empathy and embarrassment for the woman who'd typed them more than a year ago. Even then she'd known her anger was misdirected, but the cloak of anonymity and Riff's cavalier charm were too tempting and safe an outlet to pass up. She'd kept her tone civil, lest it be easy for him to disregard her comments as trollish. But Riff's reply made it clear he felt no need to defend his statements; he had no control over the way she interpreted them, especially since she worked so diligently in compiling and sifting out his posts to arrive at her conclusion. He then zeroed in her motivation behind her criticism.

CuriousBloom,

...Let me venture a guess. There's an ex or soon to be ex-boyfriend around you. Maybe he justifiably earned the title through bad behavior. Maybe the reason you don't have what you want doesn't rest squarely on someone else's shoulders. Maybe instead of lambasting me for being direct about who I am and what I want, you might choose to ask yourself some questions about how you got where you are. Did you pay enough attention to figure out what he needed and if you could provide it? ...Of course, I don't know the particulars of your life, as you don't know mine. However I do find more often than not, if you're engaged and engaging you're less likely to be "played".

PacificCoastRiff

The cool way he put Ana in her place while reducing her to a tired cliché left her incensed. It was as if he'd known where she lived and aimed his crossbow precisely at the righteous part of her indignation. She didn't want to think about the deluge of Chris' voicemails she left unanswered, or her curt, indifference when they spoke. She didn't want to think of how she'd treated him like he barely existed. She didn't want to entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe she'd pushed Chris away and into Vanessa's waiting arms. Going another round with Riff was so much better than self-reflection. But it he ended it as abruptly as she'd started it.

Ana winced inwardly as she read Riff's last words to her. He'd called her abusive and promptly removed himself from their exchange. She swirled the mouse and clicked on his account profile like she'd done the handful of times she logged into the website over the past months. The screen morphed into a private message format with another click of the mouse. The cursor flashed and flashed. Each blink was an option: apologize or not. The cursor vanished and appeared as Ana deliberated. A year has passed. He's forgotten by now. She hit the back button. Riff hadn't logged into the site since mid July. The time to say "I'm sorry" had long expired. Besides, she'd meant most of what she'd posted only she regretted the tenor she'd used to express her thoughts. 

She shook her head and logged out of the forum. "What a tool." 

She looked out the window. The words didn't assuage the fact that someone out there had valid reason to call her the same thing—or worse. They'd never cross paths online again or in real life. Content with that fact, Ana picked up her pen and made a list of things to do for the fundraiser.

* * * * * *

Tuesday, November 21st.

Medusa. The nickname had been thrown around the office like a baseball. Tonight the name was Ana's muse. She duplicated the sinuous movements of a snake as the pencil danced across her sketchpad in precise glides. Camille Pratt-Mendoza—Medusa Mendoza, as DesignHause employees secretly baptized her—wanted a necklace pendant that reflected change. The specificity of her boss' request caught Ana's attention. Camille hinted she might be moving away. And since most of the senior executives were based in San Francisco, Ana suspected the rumors about her boss' promotion must be rooted in truth. The image for the pendant popped in her mind as they spoke about Camille's preferences. A rustic sailboat tucked in the waves; charting new seas, all curving lines to offset Medusa's angular personality. Her sketchpad flopped onto the coffee table. The pencil landed on it then rolled off next to the photo album.

Ana had a hard time concentrating because of mantuition. Her eyes darted to the laptop on her desk, to the white orchid then through the bamboo blinds covering the window. Mantuition. That's what Sasha called it when a man contacted you shortly after he'd been evicted from your mind space. Apparently Chris had great mantuition.

"You look serious."

Ana jumped. "You scared me," she said, looking up at Sean before he joined her on the couch. His tousled hair made him look boyish but his bare chest and low-slung navy sweats were very adult...and sexy. He'd come over from practice exhausted, saying he'd missed her. The last two weeks of playing at nightclubs plus working during the day were starting to catch up with him. He'd taken a shower and crashed a short while after arriving. Just knowing he was near felt good. The air felt lighter, her home more alive whenever he visited. He draped her legs over his lap, his hands resting on them.

His voice still carried the husky remnants of sleep when he asked, "What's up?" 

He knew Ana had difficulty sleeping this time of the month but the pensive set of her brows said something was on her mind. 

Her feet shifted in his lap; her eyes scanned his. "You really want to know?"

He gave her a half-smile. "When you say it like that—yeah," he affirmed softly.

He felt her toes twitch beneath his palms. "I got an email from my ex." 

He petted her paws while he mentally scratched off a list of adjectives for the pale nail polish. Beige. Sand. 

"He wanted to see how I was doing with the second anniversary just passing."

Sean kept a neutral face as he listened. He'd taken Ana for a sunset ride on one of his brother's bikes that day. Just passing? What a dumbass. But just in case Ana needed pointing in the right direction he supplied, "That was almost two months ago." 

He didn't think he needed to add, "that's kinda late" surely Ana would catch the implied meaning and he wasn't about to lay it on too thick. Not when Dumbass was doing such a stellar job. Still he studied her face for any signs.

Her left brow rose. Good sign. "Well if you knew Chris—you'd be surprised he remembered at all."

Maybe not so good. 

"Besides, we weren't on the friendliest of terms after we split up."

Start taking notes, Brennan.

His voice stayed even, as if they were talking about the color of her nail polish. "What happened?"

Her brown eyes narrowed on his face. For a second Sean wondered why they were even talking about some guy in Florida who'd left the picture over a year ago. Cause you asked? And it's good to know where he fucked up so you don't do the same thing.

"You want the sound bite or the gory details?" she asked with the dimple and that light in her eyes that said the guy was done for.

"Which ever you prefer."

"Short story: We broke up and he started going out with my co-worker who introduced us three weeks later."

He would have left it at that but a look passed over her face and she lowered her eyes. "But?"

"I shut out Chris right after my mom." 

Since that day in the stairwell Sean noticed how rarely Ana used "died". She'd say "passed" or "gone" or let it float unspoken like she did now. He rubbed her leg. It was an ache that she'd learn to accept but one that wouldn't completely fade. He didn't think anyone could ever completely get over seeing their mother die in front of them like that.




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 06



She rested an elbow on the back of the couch and leaned the side of her head into her palm. The world rested in her hand. "I felt guilty for making her come to the mall with me and he was a constant reminder." 

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't know and she didn't recognize the symptoms," Sean reminded her of the details she'd shared with him about that day. 

He squeezed her shin, hoping she'd absorb some comfort and rationale through her sky blue pyjamas. Ana nodded quickly but he caught the glitter of unshed tears as she blinked. He swallowed a knot of remorse that he'd steered her down this path just so he could selfishly take stock of some guy's short comings. He doubted she'd sleep at all tonight now. And it was already after midnight. The hour long nap had done him good. He would stay up with her. 

"Then say it," he urged quietly.

"It wasn't my fault."

He smoothed her legs again and kept his eyes on her face. "That's right." He relaxed when he felt and saw her mood shift. Still she looked like there was more going on in that elusive mind of hers.

"You were saying."

"Even though the way things happened was shitty, it wasn't all his fault. We would've broken up sooner if it hadn't been for my mom." Knowing she'd dragged her mom to go shopping for a date with a boyfriend she knew to be temporary had made her guilt that much harder to swallow. 

"Chris was the epitome of the good drinking buddy," Ana explained. 

Being from a family of six siblings, Chris loved having lots of people around. In fact, they spent a lot of their time in the company of his roommates and going out in groups of friends, which included Vanessa. Being raised as an only child, dating Chris had been a trip to different city where there was lots of activity and people buzzing about. A city she liked to visit but wouldn't want to move to. Chris was fun, but he wasn't home to her.

"We were only about the next good time and...well...I didn't have it in me anymore after—"

Sean nodded. "I understand. You were grieving."

"He tried to get me to go out and he'd call a lot." 

She'd told Sean a little about those months when she merely functioned. She went to work, sometimes she ate, sometimes she slept and the cycle would repeat itself the next day. 

"Sometimes we'd hang out but I wasn't the same. To be honest, by the time we broke up, I really didn't notice his absence," she concluded. "Of course I thought he was an asshole when he took up with Vanessa but it doesn't matter anymore. He did his best and being pissed off at him and Vanessa was the kick in the pants I needed."

Sean didn't see that one coming and let his cocked brow ask the question.

Ana's smile was part rueful, part amused. "I was very, very angry and made it a point to be excellent at work just to annoy Vanessa. After a while it wasn't just for show and I started to get back to living again and not just existing." 

Sean summed it up perfectly. "Then it wasn't for nothing." 

"Yeah," Ana said with distant awe as his words resonated and settled in. "It's just weird looking back and realizing how your perspective on something that seemed so huge at one time has changed," She looked at Sean who'd been listening her go on. "Bet you're sorry you asked, huh?" she kidded, feeling a little odd and self-conscious about this conversation, especially since it involved her ex. A little humor might deflect away from any awkwardness he might be feeling, though he didn't show it.

He settled deeper into the couch with his arms resting above her feet. "No, I'm relieved."

That got her attention. "You are?"

"Yes," his blue eyes warmed. "You said your ex was the epitome of a drinking buddy. I'll take that over a smooth James Bond, Brad-Pitt-type any day."

Ana grinned. This was one of the things she loved about Sean, just when things got heavy, he knew how to lighten the mood without trivializing an important moment. She leaned closer. "I never got the whole Brad Pitt thing," she confessed as she slid her fingers through his dark silken waves. Fortunes were made and spent in the pursuit of this kind of hair. "Maybe because I prefer men with dark hair."

"Seriously though," his voice went quiet, "I'll let you in on a little secret—" He paused until he knew she'd really absorb what he was about to say. "—most guys can't read minds, so if you need something you have to ask."

Ana nodded. He was asking her not to shut him out the way she'd done with Chris. Sean simply got her, straight to the core. It was profound and simple at once. Had the changes over the past two years made it easier for him to do so? Or was it all the man on her couch? Right now the formula didn't matter. This right here, mattered.

Her fingers twirled around the cool stands at his nape. "Even the smooth James Bond types?"

Sean leaned back into her touch. "It's hard to believe "Q" didn't come up with the one invention every man needs in his arsenal."

Ana leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for listening...I needed that." Her heart kicked up speed as she said the last words.

Sean's eyes looked like he was plotting something. "I know how you can thank me."

Her brow arched up, deliberately misunderstanding his intent. 

"Not that," he admonished as if he didn't already know she'd started her cycle.

"I didn't even say anything!" she chuckled. "Since you're not a mind reader you must be projecting your dirty thoughts, mister."

Sean's smile essentially called her a smartass and he pointed to the photo album on her coffee table. She planned to sift through the photos and create a new album to give to her paternal grandparents. It was the second thing her grandmother asked for after inviting Ana to meet the rest of the family over Thanksgiving weekend. She'd drive to their home on Saturday after celebrating the feast with Dad, Gwen, Jack and Sharon—their first Thanksgiving together. Ana wanted to make more of an effort to connect with them. Gwen had called often, sent cards and care packages after her mom's passing. It made Ana realize that she'd been unfair in the past; that her step-mother genuinely cared and wasn't just being "nice" because of Dad. And then there was Sharon and Jack, her tween siblings...they were a riot of energy. Kind of like the man on her couch. 

Ana changed her expression into a serious one as Sean waited with the question in his eyes. She kept a stern voice as she acquiesced. "I'll let you look...under one condition...you better promise not to laugh."

He lunged at the photo album on the coffee table and propped it on her legs. "I definitely want to look now."

Ana reached for the little golden box, opened it and inhaled sharply. The scent of chocolate and hazelnuts intoxicated her. Dots of bliss lined up in clusters behind the gates in her brain. She put a truffle on her tongue and bit down. The gates opened and pleasure spilled out, tingling her arms and back. Ana moaned. "You know, I'm going to expect this every month from now on."

Sean flipped a page and cast Ana his best put-upon look. "Women," he grumbled, "give 'em an inch and they want a mile." 

The delight on her face was a huge thank you. He couldn't look too long because he pictured her mouth tasting him with the same deliberate slowness. The sound of her tiny moan sent shivers down his back. His eyes dropped past her neck to her pale blue tank top. Time to refocus.

"Are you getting nervous about meeting your grandparents?"

"Mmm...not nervous in a bad way," she said as the chocolate dissolved in her mouth. "They've made it clear they really want to meet me, I'm more nervous about them having certain expectations about me. It's a bit overwhelming to think I'll be the stranger in the group. I'm still getting my brain wrapped around how excited they are because my father had the opposite reaction."

Sean flipped through Ana's life in pictures. Hers looked to be a regular childhood with photos of vacations, holidays, lots of shots of her doing handstands and her little girl arms perpetually wrapped around a golden retriever's neck. An image of Ana's daughter doing cartwheels in a sunny backyard flashed before his eyes. Where did that come from? He turned the page to chase away the mental picture of the tiny imp. 

Sean's gaze focused remained one page so long that Ana got curious. "What is it?"

"Your dad is Don Willams?"

Ana's brows furrowed. She didn't have any recent photos of her dad to display with the others she had out. "Yeah. Why?"

"He was one of the coaches that came to see Duncan play when he was being scouted. He met with my parents and they were really impressed. Duncan liked your dad's couching style a lot." Sean's amazed expression crossed Ana's surprised one. 

"You remember that?"

"Oh, yeah," he said emphatically, "we pretty much ate, slept and shit football Duncan's senior year," he smiled. "Emily hated it." He looked at her again. "You and I might've met back then," he mused.

"It's a small world after all," she quipped

"No, it's kismet."

"Aw, I was right. You really are a sentimental guy." 

Sean scoffed. 

"But I doubt you would have paid me much attention back then and I was way more into Barbie than I was into boys."

"My timing's right on because you've gotten over Barbie."

Ana wrinkled her nose and tasted another truffle.

Six pages into the album he saw the shift: life before and after the divorce. The father had vanished from the pages, leaving Ana, her mom and the dog. The blank expression on her mother's face told the story.

"What?"

"Your mom, she took it hard—the divorce."

Ana looked past his thumb. The photos had been taken more than a year before her parents split. The divorce had been a relief after living in a soundless home. Her parents rarely fought. No their language became the extra slam of the kitchen cabinets and the hard scrape of dining chairs the few times they all ate as a family. Ana's eyes would dart east and west, every bite of food sprinkled with chilly tension as she sat between two massive icebergs. She delved into her schoolwork, thriving on the routine, the firmly established rhythm of tests and rewards. Then she'd go home and wait for the unpredictable calm to explode. It always did. 

The periods of silence were seasons where her parents quietly collected the shortcomings of the other. They kept them stored in baskets until the time came to throw petals of hurt and anger in each other's face. Ana's name became a defensive and offensive tool. You spend more time with those college kids than you do your own daughter. She's growing up without you! Who do you think I'm doing this for? I'm busting my ass off for the two of you!

"Yes."

An invisible veil fell between them. Should he let her hide back there from him where it was more comfortable?

"And you?"

Her legs tensed and her eyes swept down. 

"It was a long time coming," she said quietly. "Moving away from my friends and seeing my mom so unhappy was hard and for a while I felt like that was my punishment for being relieved they got divorced."

Just like that she'd ripped back the veil. Her honesty and trust stunned him. He knew she wasn't this way for just anybody.

"What about your parents?"

Sean thought about it. "They fit each other...don't get me wrong, they'll disagree but they always work things out and I can only remember one or two times where they actually fought in front of us."

Ana's brown eyes grew solemn just like her voice when she spoke. "That's so important. I won't fight in front of my kids. Ever."

The little curly haired imp dashed across the backyard and into her mother's waiting arms. Ana would be a good mother. Friends and family were important to her, which raised some questions.

"Belle?" he hesitated, not sure how to say this but not wanting her to get hurt either. He gathered from the things she'd said that the relationship with her biological father was almost businesslike. She'd been hurt by it so she didn't talk much about him. "This search for your biological parents—"

She knew where he was going with this. Her dad and friends had asked her the same thing. "You're wondering if I'm trying to fill the void left by my mom." 

Sean's expression confirmed it. She rested her arm on the top of the couch. "Yes and no. I did use the research as a way to distract me and occupy my time when I started looking for them. But I didn't do it as a way to replace my mom."

He set the photo album beside him and waited for her to continue. "My parents never hid that I was adopted and I have a letter my biological mother wrote to me when she decided to give me up. I knew I was the result of a teen pregnancy so I never had this big mystery to solve. I always had it in the back of my mind that I might look for them one day but it wasn't something pressing, you know?"

"And then when my mom passed, I realized I didn't have this infinite amount of time to find them. I started wondering about my medical history."

Sean took her hand in his. "I just don't want you to get disappointed if things don't go the way you planned when you find her."

"Believe me, tracking down my father was a reality check."

"Was it that bad?"

"My first response from him was a cease and desist letter from one of his lawyer friends."

Sean gently squeezed her hand while she continued. "I thought he knew about my mother being pregnant with so he was wary of the whole situation until I sent him a picture and the letter she wrote to me. Pass me the album." Ana pulled a strip from the back. "This is her, he went through his high school stuff and just sent it to me," she said with a ripple of excitement.

He scanned the black-and-white photo booth picture of a perky teenager blowing kisses. The resemblance was unmistakable except the girl in the photo had a darker skin tone and light eyes. Ana's hair curled, while her mother's was straight. 

"You look like her," he said, turning the picture so she could see.

"This was taken before my father went off to college. She was already pregnant with me in this picture but I don't think she knew yet." 

Ana felt a wave of empathy and sadness for the carefree girl in the picture, unaware how her life would change. It felt odd that the only image of the woman who'd given her life was of a girl almost half her age. 

"I have more questions about her than when I started."

"Why's that?"

"When I told my dad I wanted to find my biological parents, he told me that I was ten months old when I was adopted. I didn't know that. My mother got arrested for stealing the day I got this," Ana said pointing to the scar above her left brow. "I was put into foster care and a few weeks later she gave me up for adoption. She was eighteen by then and there's no trace of her after that. I haven't been able to track down any of her family either" 

Ana tried to keep the hurt out of her voice. Part of her understood how difficult it must have been for her teenaged mother to raise a baby. Part of her wondered what was so disposable about her that her mother could give her up after ten months of bonding. Did her mother regret it? Did she think about Ana over the years?

"From what I understand, she came from a conservative family and wasn't allowed to date. Maybe she was pressured into giving me up but didn't want to at first."

Sean rubbed the top of her shoulder. "If I can help let me know, okay?

"Thank you." Her voice wobbled. "That means so much."

He looked down at the photo strip in his hand. "And for what it's worth I think she made the best choice she could at the time. You didn't turn out half bad."

Ana smiled broadly; he saw her mood lighten again. "Enough with the flattery already!"

"Good. I was trying to find some way to tell you what a fine person you are and that only a fool wouldn't be proud to call you their daughter. Now I don't have to worry about messing it up."

"Yeah, we know that Brennan charm just doesn't cut it." Ana scooted into his lap and kissed his chin. "Thank you for sitting up with me and listening."

He tilted his head so her mouth grazed his. He wasn't sure who initiated it but it started with in a series of light, little kisses. Her tongue slid into his mouth, tentative and teasing. His hands cupped her head, holding her in place as he tasted bittersweet chocolate and hazelnuts. She followed when he retreated and the kiss went from sweet to erotic. Ana's soft whimper and the feel of her full breasts pressed against his chest made Sean want to do more than just kiss her so broke the contact. He pressed his hands to her shoulders when she leaned in for more of his mouth. He swallowed hard when she licked her full, moist lips and looked at him through half lidded eyes. Their rusty brown color reminded him of driving through New England in the fall when russets and brown lined the roadways. 

"Yeah, you're definitely into boys now."

She kissed his jaw, his temple, his ear and then whispered, "Especially Irish boys with dark hair and blue eyes."

He leaned back and swept his index finger below the gray shadow under her left eye. Ana needed sleep. It was almost one. "You're smooth, but you're still not getting any tonight."

Ana snapped her finger. "Aw, damn. Good thing I'm more patient than someone in this room." 

She chuckled when Sean feigned a confused look and burrowed her head in the crook of his neck. He stroked her back and sides until he felt her entire body relax into him. He took the photo from her lap so it wouldn't be damaged when they got up. He noticed the feminine cursive on the back before setting it down on the coffee table. Lisa loves Gideon. xox.

She stirred when his arm hooked under her knees, securing her to him as he rose up from the couch. "Come one kiddo, it's bedtime."

* * * * *

Saturday, December 2nd. 

Ana laughed. "I don't know how you kept a straight face."

"He's a lawyer, they're trained to be good liars," Duncan quipped from under the hood. 

His acerbic humor and deadpan delivery had grown on Ana that day at the hospital. But her laughter sputtered when Sean's leg came close to knocking over his brother's beast of a motorcycle. To an artist's eye, the serpentine lines of the bent steel fabrication were nothing short of stunning. The chromed out beauty probably cost more than the sleek roadster the two brothers were secretly working on.

"Go ahead. Do it and see what happens."

A brief blue-eyed stare down ensued. It was like watching two lion cubs at play.

The 1965 Shelby Cobra replica had been brought over to Sean's garage last weekend because their father almost discovered it when he stopped by Duncan's custom bike shop. But the same thing happened days later when their father dropped in on Sean to pick up his seldom used golf equipment.

"Do you think you'll be done in time for his birthday?"

The answer came from under the hood. "Yeah, if the rock star can spare some of his precious time to help me. Since this was his idea and all."

Sean had made it sound like it more of a joint decision. Ana's eyes pinned Sean's with a knowing look. "Oh, really."

Duncan must've sensed the temperature change in the garage because his handsome face came out of hiding. Somebody had to tell Justin sexy never went away.

"Yeah."

Ana smirked, laying it on thick. She stalked the glossy indigo blue and white striped muscle car that was their father's dream on four wheels. "What could be more a sweet and sentimental than giving this to your dad?" 

"Don't you have a fundraiser to plan or something?"

Ana laughed and turned on her heel. "You boys have fun."

"What was that all about?" Duncan asked after Ana left to go back inside the house.

Like he was going to give his big brother ammo. 

"Nothing."




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 06



* * * * *

Ana settled into the office chair in Sean's den. She pointed her toes on the heels of her discarded flip flops while the default home page loaded. Her eyes were on her notepad as she typed in the web address. She vaguely noticed the list of matching site names slide into her peripheral vision. Her eyes wandered over the screen as she continued typing. Her fingers froze when she saw Simon's website in the queue. Curiosity called her to take a virtual detour. Several taps of the down arrow key transformed the window into the login page. Ana covered her mouth as she reread the auto-saved user name above the encrypted password. Her heart fell twenty stories and burst into painful fragments. That's what it felt like when she saw the name: PacificCoastRiff.

The office chair skated backwards quickly as if Sean's computer spewed poison. Her eyes ran frantically along the bookshelf. Sean kept all his business books in here. Back and forth she scanned until she saw the four books with black binding and the signature lettering. Would she have noticed them if she came in here more often? Would she have made the connection? She walked over to the front of the den and pulled out one the books. 

She read the personal inscription and checked the name of the New York based publisher. She pulled out another book and did the same thing two more times. Her mind tumbled and whirled as the pieces fit to make a whole. Sean had worked for a publishing house in New York. If it was the same one, then he must've known Simon for years. That's why Sean was at Borders the night they met. 

How many times these past months had she played the "what if" game and thought herself so lucky with the accidental nature of events. What if she hadn't missed her exit on the drive to Borders that night? What if she'd been on time for Simon's book signing and discussion? If all of those things hadn't happened she would've sat down in the group...and still met Sean. 

Only there would've been no blank slate when she realized he was mister love 'em and leave 'em. There would've been no blank slate when he realized she was the one who'd lambasted his personal philosophies. There would've been no flirting, no dinner invitation. Meeting Sean had been no a happy accident, it was a cruel cosmic joke. Ana shook her head, wanting everything to rewind ten minutes and skip over this part. Her trembling hand couldn't get the book wouldn't slide into place.

"Dammit," she mumbled in frustration and anger. Only she wasn't sure if it was directed towards the book, her sudden clumsiness or something else she was too stunned to analyze. She almost burst out of her skin when she heard Sean's voice behind her.

"What are you doing?"

Ana jumped, thudding the book with her flailing hand. Her heart congealed and soared on a twenty story wave of adrenaline. She turned; her body hid the protruding book from his gaze. 

"Nothing," she lied, surprised she could even speak with the fright pounding in her ears. Guilt followed as she heard herself lie to him. This was bad. She swallowed nervously as she remembered the image on the computer screen. Ana looked on, dumbstruck, as Sean walked towards the desk.



Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 07



Though no text from Kahlil Gibran's On Love—from The Prophet— appears in this chapter, it's an exquisite piece to read on the full experience of love. If you search online or find it on a bookshelf, you'll understand why Ana chose to quote it to a man she thought only dabbled in its shallower waters. My heartfelt thanks goes out to TangledinYou for helping me during a moment of tunnel vision, and to you for...you know.

* * * * * * *

Saturday, December 2, 2006.

A flood of adrenaline and nervousness twisted Sean's insides leaving him giddy and sick at once. He scanned the maze of faces moving inside the dimly lit space. The tension gripped tighter when his eyes landed on Noah Blake's wrist guard then jumped to the vacant seat next to him. In a few days Noah would take his rightful place in Wired for Sound just in time to start touring as the opening act for the rock gods he and his band mates worshipped half of their lives. But until then the kid intended to work that sprain for all it was worth. Ana had come into view, passing the beer she'd had in her hand to Noah. Sean might've been amused if he didn't feel like he was about to jump out of plane. 

Noah leaned his ear to Ana's mouth. Lucky for Noah, he wasn't some Neanderthal who got all jealous and beat his chest screaming, "mine, mine" because some blond, lil surfer looking dude sat too close and looked at his woman ten seconds too long. Sean's gaze leapt to Ana and he smiled inside. The distracted look on her face as Noah's mouth wagged on and on, was where the kid's luck ended and his began. 

The tension gradually loosened its grip; an eerie calm took its place. This always happened these last seconds before. His heart slowed down its breakneck pace. A cacophony of cheers, whistles and clapping hands pierced the sudden darkness. The curtains lifted slowly. Sean slung the guitar strap over his shoulder. It was time to rock the crowd. 

* * * * *

While Ana's body sat in an armless chair, her mind drifted between watching Sean on stage and this afternoon at his house. There'd been no appropriate time to tell him about their shared online history. He didn't need drama when he had this performance to focus on. Besides she couldn't very well go: "Baby, you know that pseudo troll who implied you were shallow and a player? That's me! Ha-ha. Let's have a drink before we head down to the club." 

She lied to Sean repeatedly for his own sake yet the justification opened a gulf of worry and guilt inside her. Still her mind recycled the hallow mantra so she wouldn't have to entertain the insidious voice in her head. The one that quietly read snippets of her year old online tome when she should be enjoying the show. 

Sean had all but rounded his desk when she made a big production of asking him about the book sticking out from bookshelf like an indictment against her. "I was looking at this," Ana said, barely able to hear her own voice over the pounding in her ears, as she pulled Simon's latest book from the shelf. "It looks interesting." She marveled as if she'd never seen the book before, as if she didn't have the author's blood running through her veins. 

He halted his trek to the incriminating computer screen and walked over to her. A wave of relief burst over Ana but that's when she stumbled into a sea of lies. 

"It is," Sean concurred, "You can borrow it if you want. There'll be some good ideas in there on how to get yourself in the running for that promotion—" he winked, "—and manage your new boss." 

She could've said something right then. Simon Garret's my biological father. That's why I was there that night we met. We've spoken online. 

"I know him...a little," Sean amended before he continued, his head cocked to the book in Ana's hand, "I used to work for the same publishing company."

Say something! Tell him! 

"Oh, right. When you lived in New York." Ana had swum too far from the shore to make her way back now. "Are you and Duncan done for today already?"

"No," he replied as if he'd suddenly remembered something. "We might have to special order some parts—can't find a pen that writes."

In Ana's guilty mind she must have sprinted to the desk with mach one speed. "Here you go."

Sean's eyes were warm and concerned as they scanned her face. If he noticed her weird behavior, he didn't let on. Would he look at her differently once he knew everything? How she wished she could go back to when they were just two people without history reframing the context of their relationship.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she said weakly as she returned the book to its place on the shelf. It slid home easily this time, mocking her previous efforts. "I'm not in the event planning mood right now." Those were the first honest words she'd spoken since Sean walked in on her. He pulled her back into his chest; his body blanketing hers in his warmth and strength. She felt his mouth at her neck, then her temple as he rocked her. His clean, masculine scent smelled so good. Ana wanted to lock the door and stay like this with him. 

"Focus on what you have to get done and get it out of the way so you can enjoy yourself tonight. We'll have fun." 

Ana burrowed into his embrace. "Yes."

Sean gave her a quick kiss on the temple. "I better go before Duncan throws a fit."

No, it wasn't the right time to launch into The Conversation while his brother stood waiting in the garage. They needed to talk in private with no interruptions.

"Check out that book. It's a good one," he called over his shoulder. 

Ana mumbled something back in agreement and released a heavy breath. Saying nothing had been the considerate thing to do. That's what she told herself as she drifted further out to sea. 

A feminine yell pulled Ana from her wistful musings.

Kelly leaned closer to Noah as she shouted, "He's good isn't he?"

"Yeah," Noah remarked distantly, so absorbed, his eyes stayed locked on the stage and ignored the redhead next to him. It was a testament to his replacement's guitar skills because the girl's kohl rimmed hazel eyes and do-me red lips were striking. Several jealous and lecherous eyes followed her when she first slinked to the table in snug black jeans and a black leather vest. 

Noah brought his lips to Ana's ear. "It's hard to believe he's a suit."

All of Ana's attention traveled slightly to the left. She couldn't tear her eyes away. The stage provided the perfect outlet for Sean's energy and charisma. The duet told the story of a long drive into the night with one lover begging the other to leave their mistakes at the next turnoff. The song came to the bridge, with just the lead singer, Sean and his acoustic guitar. The two circles of white light and the people inside them blazed through a world of inky blackness. 

Sean had disappeared into another world where only the song and the guitar existed. The arch of his head towards the mic and slight bend of his knee as he rocked back were pure sensuality. He gave his soul away while the intimate ache in his voice curled around the lyrics. His fingers called sharp, biting notes from the guitar with increasing speed and agility. Awestruck whistles and claps sliced through the pockets of respectful silence. Heads bobbed in time with the rhythm.

Everything in Ana's world narrowed in on the man with the guitar. Foggy ribbons swirled inside his halo. Sean was a star and an angel in blue jeans and a black t-shirt. He closed his eyes and repeated the chorus one last time in a breathy rasp. The sound sent shivers down her arms, the words stung her eyes. She'd been pulled from her body through an invisible link between them.

Ana gasped when everything vanished into a formless black cloud. When the lights came back on, she knew she had fallen in love.

* * * * *

The blue-eyed brunette zeroed on him the second his hand landed on the bar top. He'd just opened his mouth when she yelled to the bartender, "His drink's on me."

Ah, the perks of being a musician. 

"I'm Katiya," she shouted over the voices buzzing around them.

He offered his name and his hand before wrapping his fingers around the chilled beer bottle. "Thanks." He winked as he tilted the neck in her direction and took a swig. "Hey, Mike!" he called out to the bartender then pointed to Katiya, "she's picking up my tab tonight!"

Katiya laughed then let her eyes wander speculatively down his frame before she leaned in closer "That depends," she quipped with a crimson pout.

Sean took a lazy sip while he challenged the femme fatale dare in her eyes with a mix of indifference and humor. He spoke when uncertainty caused the pout to fade. She was hot but not spirited enough to match the vixen persona she projected. Ana would've artfully dueled with him until she had him on his knees digging for his next comeback. "Just when I thought I'd made a new friend for life you went and blew it," he teased and pretended to hand the beer back to her. His remark put Katiya at ease but gave her ego something to play for. Everybody turned out a winner. 

He gave her as much attention as he could while he got slaps on the back from friends of the band and hellos from patrons. While Katiya took his free hand in hers to praise its skill, his eyes wove through the crowd, looking for a dark head with upswept curls and a teal blouse. He found her...in the arms of an older man. He enjoyed seeing her smiling and having a good time after stressing so much earlier. 

Katiya must have misread his sudden fascination with the dance floor because they were on their way there the next instant. She did her best to impress him with her slow undulating moves. Her black spaghetti strap dress clung to every sexual grind of her hips and jut of her breasts. There was something about it that undermined the sensuality she'd been going for; the desperate call for his attention undervalued the appeal of her other assets. 

Ana's brown eyes found his. They were full of mischief but beyond that they held an easy confidence. The boldness and power behind it had a much more potent effect than Katiya's brand of forced sexiness. His brows met as Ana whispered something into her partner's ear and pecked him on the cheek. Maybe he had a strand Neanderthal DNA after all. She and the man parted ways and she walked up to Katiya, tapping the shorter woman on the shoulder. 

"Hi, lovely, I'm cutting in." Ana didn't pretend to ask; she simply stated her intention then took what she came for. Hot.

Sean reached for her hands and pulled her close, making it clear to Katiya he more than approved of the unexpected handoff. 

"You looked like you needed rescuing," Ana teased as she settled into his arms. Her left arm hugged his upper back while his right arm rested on her waist. He loved how her height allowed her body to fit perfectly against his, like she'd been made for him to hold.

He felt her slight jolt when his lips grazed her ear and his cock reacted to her responsiveness. "I'll have to find some way to show my gratitude."

Ana drew her head back to look at him. Her brown eyes darkened with seductive awareness. "Oh?" 

She probably wouldn't have looked at him that way if she had any idea the effect she had on him. 

"You have no idea how much I want you right now."

His words sent a spark of sensual excitement over her skin. He kissed the spot below her ear, the one that always drove her crazy. She breathed in his light citrus and sandalwood scent, noticing how his sweat sharpened its verbena notes.

"I was watching you dance with that guy."

Her perfect left brow lifted and her hand moved between his shoulders in slow sweeps. "Really? I thought you had your hands full," she taunted playfully.

He led them around the other bodies packed onto the dimly lit dance floor. "Just not the way I wanted," he said against her mouth. 

He captured her full lower lip between his teeth and licked it with the tip of his tongue before easing inside. Her mouth parted for him, eager for the slow, velvet thrust that joined his tongue to hers. She moaned as Sean's flavor went straight to her head, erasing everything but the feel and taste of him. The kiss turned hot and greedy, and dangerously close to the way they kissed when they intended to do more than sample the erotic secrets of each other's mouths.

His thumb stroked the knuckles of the hand he'd been holding above his heart. "I'd have you right here, if I could."

The way his eyes searched the room got her nervous and titillated. Surely he wouldn't...

"Sean..." she faltered as they danced their way into a corner partially secluded by a column and heavy black drapes suspended from the ceiling. Excitement swerved out to race with her nervous sense of propriety. "We can't," she half-chuckled as their denim clad legs stopped rubbing over each other.

Ana had said the one word that didn't carry much weight in Sean's vocabulary. She saw it in his ravenous glare.

"Sean, we can't!" Ana reasoned as she felt his fingers sneak under her blouse. His fingers drew random patterns along her spine making her tingle and squirm. Then he kissed her half-assed protest right off her mouth.

"You like knowing you turn me on, don't you," he demanded. "I bet it gets you hot," he said into her ear. His wicked whisper turned into prophecy when Ana the pulse between her legs rivaled the one inside her chest. Heat and desire trickled to the juncture of her thighs. Sean cupped her there, rubbing her through the layers of fabric.

"Sean," she gasped, "st-o-op." But her pleasure began to build even as she tried to reign it in. It was like a balloon floating heavenwards, the string slipping through her fingers.

"What was that, baby?"

"You're going to make me come."

"Come for me then," he insisted while he nuzzled her neck. 

Somewhere in the haze Ana heard his low words about how beautiful and sexy he found her, how he loved watching her come. His palm pressed against her sex in dizzying circles and Ana writhed against his hand until they'd found the perfect cadence. Sensation coiled within her core then expanded and expanded.

"That's it, love. Come for me...come." 

The love word flooded her senses like an aphrodisiac, bursting through the walls of restraint. The room, the swaying bodies and dim lights spun around then exploded into flashes of darkness and light. She grabbed onto his arms as the rush came hard, fast and hot.

Sean took her halting breaths and tight, little sobs into his mouth. Watching her was one thing but he knew he couldn't listen to the sounds she made and not take her to a bathroom or outside, whichever was nearest. Her hips jerked and her nails dug into his biceps. 

Ana looked drunk and dazed as his hands cradled her nape. His thumbs traced the faint blush staining her cheeks. She smiled as if she'd found a private happiness. He hugged her to him, his hands now soothing her as she recovered. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pressed her mouth to his jugular, leaving her mark on him again. His pulse sped up. 

"Hey, man!" Noah shouted, interrupting much more than a couple sharing a few kisses. "We've been looking all over for you."

Sean dropped a kiss onto Ana's nose. Ah, the perks of being a musician.

* * * * *

Ana shot him a quick glance after she merged Sean's Range Rover onto the interstate. "I've been meaning to ask you...you love performing and you're really good. So how come you didn't pursue a career in music?"

"Can you imagine the look on Dominic and Clodagh's faces if I said: 'Hey, this law school thing isn't for me—I'm dropping out and going to be a musician instead.' They would've shit a brick after everything that happened with Duncan."

Granted she'd only met Sean's parents that one time at the hospital, but they seemed to be supportive parents, especially his father, and they didn't come off as perfectionists or image slaves.

"Did they put a lot of pressure on you?"

Sean pressed his head into the headrest and looked over at her. "They weren't down our throats to be perfect but they definitely expected us to finish college and get good jobs. Look at Duncan," he said with admiration, "even with all the responsibilities of being a husband and father he went to school and got his business degree."

"I can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. But wouldn't your dad have been okay with you giving it a try after school though?" 

"I think if I wanted it bad enough I would have done it with or without my parents' support. Don't get me wrong I love everything about music and the whole process but it's not something I had to do back then. Those guys in the band tonight, they never thought of doing anything else. I wasn't like that at their age."

"What about that band you were in Boston? You said there was a story there but you haven't told me."

Ana peeked over when Sean didn't answer right away. He wore an unreadable expression. 

"We almost had a record deal," he said quietly.

Ana turned into a groupie for a minute. "Really? That's a big deal right?"

His faint smile didn't quiet touch his sky blue eyes. "Yeah, but it's not as glamorous as you'd think."

"So what happened?"

"A talent executive saw us play a few times and approached us about submitting a demo. We were all licking it up. We all thought it was a dream come true because you hear about artists who spend years trying to get a record label to even give them a chance and there we were getting it handed to us." 

"Okay."

"Then the business side kicked in." Sean's exhale replicated the air being let out of a balloon containing a treasured dream. "We had people making suggestions on what we should write, how we should sound, what image we should project. It started to feel like we had to turn out backs on almost everything we were about. They had definite ideas on how the band should be marketed, which meant putting the focus on the front man."

She imagined him rebelling against being dictated on how things should be. "Was that you?"

Sean made a sound, almost a laugh. "No, but thanks for the vote of confidence."

Ana smiled over at him.

"His name was Brian and I think all the attention went to his head. All of a sudden he was cool with us getting signed to make music we used to think was nothing but prepackaged shit. And it didn't help having him strut around like a peacock when egos got bruised."

"So what happened to the band?"

Sean paused again. "Brian hooked up with some girl who worked at the label and I started going out with his ex after they broke up. Only he tried to play it off like I stole his girlfriend and wanted the other guys to take sides. Everything tanked from that point on. It was kind of a rock 'n roll cliché. "

"And what happened to the girl?"

Sean didn't see that question coming—at least not from Ana. Talking about ex-girlfriends wasn't his thing. And if there ever was an ex he never wanted to think about or talk about, Lauren Emery owned that title outright.

"We dated on and off after the band broke up." 

He thought that would satisfy her curiosity and they'd close the history book. Then they'd move onto much better things like getting home and finishing up what they started at the club. But he thought wrong, Ana wanted to stop and check things out instead of flying on through. 

"How long did you date?"

What was it with women and their fascination with ancient history?

She must've noticed something because she asked, "What?"

"It's kind of weird talking about your ex-girlfriend with your current girlfriend." 

"You know that's the first time you referred to me as your girlfriend?"

He would've given into the temptation to make a joke about Ana's remark if it didn't come at him like a missed jab. What about all the things they'd done together, all the ways he'd showed her he wanted her and cared? Didn't that speak for itself much more than any label could? But the tone in her voice set off some weird signals in his gut. He let the moment pass wondering if he should have said something but his mood had soured too much for him to find the right thing to say, whatever that was. But honestly did she need a billboard?




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 07



"I told you about mine," she continued, backing him into a corner with just one exit.

Right then he wanted to tell her it wasn't the same thing. She'd brought up her ex in the context of her mother's death, and that her ex had emailed her while he hadn't spoken or thought about Lauren Emery in years. Hell, he didn't even want to think about her right now. But he knew enough about women to know they didn't limit their arguments to logic. 

"We dated on and off for about three years." 

The on / off cycles helped them last as long as they had because their relationship constantly felt new. They'd breakup after a few months into a normal rhythm. It wasn't until those last months of living together that they'd delved into the real stuff.

"That's a quite a while, was it serious?"

Man, he'd give a million dollars not to be in this SUV right now.

"You really want to talk about this?" Maybe she'd take the hint.

"I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't interested."

Apparently Ana had turned off the subtlety radar all women carried with them since birth.

"It didn't get serious until the last year. We lived together for a few months when I was in New York."

"So she followed you from Boston?"

"Yeah."

"Why'd you break up?"

"She told me she was pregnant."

The icy calm in his voice couldn't be missed. Pregnant? Sean was always so careful about using protection. He'd even told her why. Her stomach tensed. "I thought you said you'd never...you know—"

"Only that one time with you," he reaffirmed more to himself than to her. 

Relief swept over her; Sean hadn't lied to her. But invisible fingers of guilt and hypocrisy wagged at her.

"Lauren told me she'd taken a pregnancy test and it was positive. She'd had taken antibiotics for an ear infection and said it must've interfered with the Pill."

Even then it didn't seem plausible that he'd gotten Lauren pregnant. She'd just moved back into their apartment after they'd completed another two week breakup when she'd told him the news. He didn't want to start off his impending, albeit unexpected voyage into fatherhood doubting the mother of his child. So he willed away his doubts so he wouldn't feel like an asshole because he wasn't ready for a baby.

"I figured it must've happened because of a defective condom but the next morning when she admitted she'd lied about the whole thing because...she decided it was time we got married," he said bitterly. Lauren had had the nerve to expect him to hand her a medal for coming clean the next day. It had been one of the longest nights of his life, lying in bed next to her while his gut instinct haunted him like a demon. He knew something had been off but he loved Lauren and that meant believing her. He'd resolved that they'd get married and make it work.

Ana listened to the story stripped to its bare facts and told in too flat a voice. It had to have hurt to been lied to like that, about such an important thing, even more so given Sean's family history. Hadn't his girlfriend thought about that at all? How cruel to zero in on the one area he was most vulnerable.

"Didn't she know how...worried and careful you were about preventing a pregnancy?"

His voice remained flat when he spoke. "No. She knew about Duncan having Grace just out of high school but I never told her what it was like for him and Jess or the rest of the family." He looked out the window.

Ana reached out and touched his thigh and his larger hand covered hers. "I'm sorry...that you had to go through something like that." 

Her next question tumbled out before she truly reviewed it.

"Is that why you broke up?"

His summation was simple and brokered no argument. "I could never trust her after that; there was no point in staying together anymore." 

He could barely take the sound of Lauren's voice waffling between explaining and begging for forgiveness. Forgiving had been one thing but trust...that was something altogether different. The drama only put the spotlight on their main problem: Lauren wanted the marriage-and-children questions concretely answered well before her thirtieth birthday while he'd been content with the way things were. He'd been toying with the idea of moving back to California and she thought it unfair to have to move across the country, leaving family and friends behind just to be his live-in girlfriend. Lauren had put the absence wedding rings and a mortgage before them or their relationship. 

It still messed with his mind how a woman he'd loved and lived with could come up with such a crazy scheme and use the promise of an innocent life to get what she wanted. The disbelief lingered even now, causing an imperceptible shake of his head. She'd arbitrarily decided how their lives should be as if she'd ordered takeout with asking what he wanted. How long would he have ignored his suspicions out of love, was a question that totally fucked with his mind. There were no other words for it. It's why he didn't want to think about this anymore. It was done. 

"I understand," Ana said softly. 

Her hand slid out from under his and attached itself to the wheel. A deluge of thoughts poured into her head, bouncing around like ever increasing ping pong balls. Was his mindfulness in not repeating his brother's mistake the only reason he'd been so vigilant about using protection? Or did it have as much to do with his ex? Had he been swept up in a sexual high when he'd revealed his fantasy of being completely naked inside her? Was it merely a fantasy, one he'd never intended to act on even though she'd said yes? Or was there a part of Sean that didn't trust her? 

He not only looked serious and distracted, Ana felt it. The energy rolling off of them grew until a weird vibe filled the space between them. He fiddled with the button on the dial so pops of rap, classical and top forty filled the air. Meanwhile Ana edited script after mental script on how she'd tell Sean about her online identity, her charade this afternoon and her connection to Simon. And somewhere in between the mental juggling she hoped the criticisms she'd posted online were simply products of her misplaced anger, that her feelings for him were rooted in something real between them. Maybe the insidious questions would go away.

* * * * *

The bottle cap flew in a perfect arc on its way to the garbage can. 

"Good shot," Ana enthused, searching for a way to ease the uncomfortable quiet that had followed them into his kitchen. This clearly wasn't the time to launch into a late night chat about CuriousBloom and PacificCoastRiff. The invisible gulf between them grew when he grabbed the guitar case off the floor and stalked off to the living room. Suddenly she was eleven years old again in a house with no sound, only this time she could do something about it.

"Are you okay?"

Sean took a healthy sip of water on his way back to the kitchen. "Yeah," he said in one pitch above the flatness she'd heard during their drive. His smile wasn't all that encouraging either.

"You seem a little—" she wavered as she tried for some phrase that wouldn't put him on the defensive. "—distracted." 

Aloof, chilly and distant were accurate adjectives. Should she apologize for making him talk about his ex or would mentioning her again just plunge him deeper into an ugly place?

"I'm fine—just winding down from tonight." 

Ana wanted to believe him so she clung to the reassurance his mouth offered as his lips brushed hers. I don't know how to reach you and I'm scared here.

"Come here," she commanded softly after the empty bottle clunked its way into the garbage can. Ana leapt onto the island. "We have some unfinished business to take care of." 

Ana craved that connection and closeness again, and sex was the one, pure place where they could be without any clutter. She hoped in silence he'd meet her there. She hated this shakiness, this uncertainty that had quietly crept in tonight. 

Sean stood between her knees, his hands on either side of her thighs. A growing predatory heat replaced the blankness in his eyes. "Remind me what that was again?"

Every cell in Ana's body brightened with elation. He'd come back to her.

"This," she said as her hands traveled up his arms to settle on his shoulders. 

She conveyed her message with every pass of her tongue and every nip at his lips when their mouths met. I need you. I love you. Be with me. He answered her with the eagerness of his fingers. They dove into her hair, releasing her curls with quick jerks on the pins hidden within the twist. They parted briefly when Ana pulled up his shirt only to find each other's mouth again. There was no slow build up, no teasing—only an urgent need to connect. 

Sean's mouth fed on and laved her breasts with a roughness that set her blood on fire. He groaned when her tongue painted his nipples with slow swirls and fast flicks. Ana wiggled her hips as he pulled her jeans down. He grabbed her panties and yanked them from her body in one violent motion. An attack of four hands sent Sean's jeans and boxer-briefs flying onto the pile of clothes and shoes scattered on the tiles. They feverishly explored each bit of newly revealed skin with their fingers, lips and tongues. 

Sean's mouth never left Ana's as she fondled his cock to aching hardness. His skin tightened when her fingers cupped and gently squeezed the sensitive orbs below his shaft. He broke the kiss and mumbled an oath. Her fingers strayed further and he knew he'd be done soon if he didn't stop her. But damn it felt good. Too good. Her touch made him ravenous.

"What?" she asked in surprise as he shackled her wrists in one hand behind her back.

"I think turnabout's fair play," he explained while his free hand covered her damp sex. Ana writhed against his fingers as they circled and played within her slick folds. She cooed and hissed when two fingers slid inside her, testing her readiness to receive him. He caressed and stroked her yielding flesh until she rolled her hips to drive his fingers deeper. The clasp of her wet satin and the sounds she made were almost enough to set him off.

"Uh," she breathed as his fingers curled and rocked back and forth inside her. "I-I...don't," she protested with a whimper. Sean's gaze was intense and hungry when she opened her eyes. The corner of his mouth shifted into the devil's smile. Ana gulped.

"Don't what, baby?" he demanded as his fingers twisted within her slick heat. His palm cradled the back of her head as she shook off the dull sting of pleasure—or at least tried to.

"Stop," she mouthed more than spoke.

"Stop what?" His voice dropped to a wicked purr that matched the things his fingers were doing. "You have to tell me. Or I'll keep on doing this." 

Ana bit back a moan as her pussy clung to his fingers.

"You like that, don't you," he said, smiling against her mouth.

Her hands clutched his arm in an effort to make him stop. "Sto-op," she croaked, "you're go—going to make me...come." "I...ah...don't want to...come."

His lips swept over hers as he spoke; she heard the faint amusement in his voice. "Why not?"

Ana pushed at his arm and turned away from his drugging kisses. "Not without you."

Her simple demand had Sean scrambling to the floor. She didn't understand until she saw the packet. What once heralded a pleasurable joining, had now taken on a new significance far greater than the small disc in his hands. The temptation to ask him not to use it flared to life. The desperation behind it and her pride kept her silent. If Sean wanted to he would have asked. She wouldn't push him into something he wasn't ready for just to assuage the ugly emotions that infected her. 

Her eyes followed the quick, economical way he sheathed his dick within the latex. Maybe it was simply a force of habit and she'd read more into it. Only when Sean's hand hooked under knees and pulled her to the cold granite edge did the black thoughts recede. He buried himself inside her with one frantic thrust. Ana gasped at the suddenness of his penetration, but she wanted it no other way. It felt deliciously ruthless.

Sean stilled then withdrew carefully. He searched her face for any signs of discomfort even as her legs pressed his backside, urging forward again. "Did I hur—"

Her dark, glazed eyes flew open and reassured him more than her words. 

"Don't stop. Please. You feel so good. I need—" His return stole her words as he filled her with a long, driving stroke.

What he saw in her molten brown eyes made him lunge into her again and again. Ana matched him every step of the way, her arms and legs holding him to her. Her hips arched up each time he withdrew. He rammed into her each time she curled back. They couldn't close enough. She peppered kisses across his neck and shoulders; her tenderness a sharp contrast to the wildness of their union. Her soft cries and staccato breaths teased his ears. The wisps of air along his neck stained his skin. 

"Harder...please...more," she sobbed. "Yes! Yes!" she wailed when Sean complied. Every stroke of his cock filled her with hope, desire and love, pushing away the doubts that plagued her all day. 

Sean held her with bruising force as he hammered into her, unable to slow down now. Not that Ana wanted him to. The fury of her need matched his. He held on as long as he could as her pussy closed around him in ripple after ripple. The naughty sounds of bodies connecting and their ragged cries and groans filled the kitchen.

"Come with me," she implored, her voice almost inaudible with pleasure. She grinded her hips into his until he went over the edge with her. Pleasure burst over them repeatedly. He shuddered as his climax raced up his shaft and erupted from him. It was fast, hot, wild and over too soon.

His damp forehead rested against hers. "Jesus," he muttered while his lungs grabbed oxygen. He gave her a quick, hard kiss before he pulled out of her.

Sean pressed a kiss into her palm as she traced the side of his face. Would it be right to release the words trapped behind her lips before he knew everything?

He tipped her chin up for another kiss, a sweet, slow one. "It just gets better every time."

Ana winced inside. The wonder in Sean's voice filled her with a bittersweet ache. He was only talking about sex. The smile she offered him felt devoid of authenticity. She recognized this feeling. It was the same one she'd had when she saw a score of ninety-five marked in red on a school exam. She'd come close but missed the mark.

* * * * *

Grey light sliced through the shutters as Ana woke to the feel of Sean's hand on her breast. He was gloriously hard behind her. "Good morning," she rasped as she wiggled her backside against him. He rewarded her greeting and wanton moves with a kiss below her ear and the twirl of his fingers around her nipple.

"It is...now that you're awake."

The rough husk of his voice aroused the pulse between her legs. Ana didn't bother to look at the clock; over the last five months she'd grown accustomed to being woken up around five thirty. The sheet snapped back and his hand traveled down to cup her mound. His thumb brushed the narrow strip of curls there before slipping past her moist slit. Ana arched into his touch and draped her thigh over his, allowing him better access while he strummed her clit. She sighed when his fingers circled her opening to test her wetness. His voice rumbled behind her when he found the proof of her desire. He rolled away for a few moments and then he returned, angling the broad tip against her opening. 

They moaned in unison as he filled her, inch by inch. Her wet sex parted for his gentle nudges and clung to every bit of the granite hardness he pushed inside her. Every slow, gliding stroke pushed them closer to the edge of bliss. Ana's hand remained fused to Sean's wrist though he kept a firm grasp on her hip. The sweet hurt in her voice as she came sent tingles over his skin. He felt the ecstatic flutters and the sensual rain of her orgasm spreading over the thin barrier between them. She writhed over his cock while he drove towards the release he could only find within her. 

"That's it, baby...yes...yes...let go," she whispered.

Ana's velvety voice led the way to bliss and he followed her there. The throbbing tension in his shaft barreled to the surface in quick, liquid spurts. He held her tight, his head buried in her neck as his pleasure rose up and washed over him. New, intense feelings clamored against his chest, wanting to be named. He vaguely heard himself whisper something that sounded like "amazing". She turned her head and silenced the confession on his mouth with a kiss. Her dreamy Mona Lisa smile said it all. Even this close, Ana remained elusive. His disappointment was complete.

* * * * *

Monday, December 4th.

"It's not so bad...you were passionate...uh...maybe a bit aggressive about your point but you weren't rude." If the stakes weren't so high, Michelle's spin on the online clash would've been admirable, believable even.

"He posted that stuff almost two years ago. Are you going to hold that against him?" Michelle wondered.

"Yeah, why are you putting some little cyber beef ahead of real life? Are really that freaked out about it? It's not a deal breaker in my opinion. Not after five months. People say shit they don't mean all the time or it comes out wrong." Sasha's bluntness was somewhat better but—

"That's the thing. I meant it then. Sure, I could've said it better but it doesn't change the fact that when I read what he posted, I still have the same questions and feelings about it."

"What do you mean?" Michelle probed.

"If Sean was a jerk that treated me like a princess, I'd know where I stood with him. But the thing is...you've seen what he was like online; he's pretty much the same in real life. Women find him charming—even the barista at Starbucks thinks she has a small chance. And he doesn't do it because he wants to be liked in return; that's just his way. He didn't even trash one of his exes when he had reason to."

"Okay?" Sasha interjected, not seeing the problem "so he's flirtatious but it doesn't sound like you're worried he's cheater."

But Michelle did. "She's in love with him."

"Oh," Sasha said it as though Ana had contracted a nasty virus, which felt unpleasantly accurate right now.

Ana didn't deny it but withholding the confirmation was her way of exerting what little control she had over the situation.

The insidious questions left storage and were airborne. "What if I'm just someone he's 'really enjoying' for now? How do I know if I'm any different from any other woman he's gone out with for five months?"

Michelle started; this was her arena after all. "I don't think a guy would do all the little things Sean's done if he didn't have feelings for you."

"Yeah. What guy goes to Teavana and buys all that tea shit you like for no reason unless he's really into you?" Sasha reasoned. "And he remembered orchids are your favorite flower after you just saying it one time? Look how many times I've forgotten."

"And what about the way he was there for you on the anniversary," Michelle said delicately. "That kind of thoughtfulness and sensitivity isn't just about being charming, Ana."

Ana's chest tightened painfully as she felt torn between her friends' sensible arguments and what she hoped were merely her irrational fears. She wanted to believe she hadn't misread the signs and fallen for a process that wasn't unique to her.

Defeat hung in her voice when she spoke. "Guys, he's never even introduced me as his girlfriend. It's always 'this is Ana'."

The Sean Brennan choir went silent for several seconds. Michelle spoke first; this was her arena after all. 

"But do his actions make it clear you're together?"

"Yes," Ana admitted. He didn't have a "when I'm just with you" and "when we're with other people" personality switch, even around his family months back when they'd only knows each other a few weeks.




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 07



"Hun, don't get so hung up on titles and look at the way he treats you. He cares for you."

Sasha was no slouch in the love department either and aimed for the bull's eye. 

"You gotta work with us here, girlie. It's like you don't want to believe it. But what we say doesn't really matter. You need to talk to him and get this out in the open."

"You're right," Ana conceded but worried how it would play out.

"He sounds like a reasonable guy. Talk it out and explain your side of things. If he's for real, it'll only bring you closer," Michelle insisted. She raised a good point—again. Ana wished her girls were right here in her apartment and not across the country.

"I hope so. I do feel better talking to you guys about it. It's just...such a bizarre situation to be in. I still can't believe it." More like she didn't want to believe it.

"You know," Sasha mused. "It's as if you were meant to meet each other. Look at how your dad could've wound up coaching his brother and you probably would've met through Simon anyway even if you guys hadn't spoken online."

"Yeah," Michelle agreed, "it's weird how Simon's name never came up."

Ana's mind combed over that detail for two days now. "We never talked about him that much. But then, there wasn't that much to say and it's not like it was a fun topic."

"Right," Sasha said with a dash hostility a loyal friend would feel about Simon's chilly reaction to Ana being his daughter.

"He's been...nicer. I think we really turned a corner after I met his family over Thanksgiving. He might even come to the public school charity. " Ana didn't add that the lure of the networking opportunity had drawn Simon much more than the chance of seeing her. Sasha's righteous indignation would only remind unwelcoming response last year.

"That's nice," Michelle remarked. "Is Sean still going?"

"Maybe. It depends on if the doctor clears Noah to play again. I'll find out early in the week"

Sasha pointed out the obvious. "Then you better talk to him then just in case they both show up."

* * * * *

Thursday, December 7th.

Sean tried to concentrate on the voice in his ear while his eyes tracked the subtle sway of Ana's hips. The sun peeked through the clouds and sliced its way into the glass enclosed outdoor area. A few rays found the amber highlights in her hair on her walk towards their table. She wore it down more often because she knew how much he liked it. Her crisp, white dress shirt and grey pencil skirt were suitable for the office. But with her pin-up girl curves and creamy golden complexion, the outfit looked anything but safe and typical. Her fishnet stockings and cherry red heels had him wondering why they weren't back at her place making the most of their lunch hour. The four days had been too long a fast. 

They snuck in this lunch date because they hadn't seen each other since Sunday afternoon. He longed for this week to close out fast so she'd have the stress of the fundraiser behind her. The they'd spend more time together, maybe make plans for the holidays. Their first together. 

That was until Simon Garret mentioned he'd be attending the same art-for-public-school charity his girlfriend's company was sponsoring. And then Sean discovered another coincidence... 

"Who was that?" Ana asked after he snapped the phone shut. Sean didn't make it a habit to take calls when they were out together, especially short dates like this one. The tail end of the conversation piqued her curiosity.

"Simon Garrett." 

Ana's pulse galloped and pounded in her ears the instant Sean spoke the first name. She had her opening. She squirmed in her chair as she got ready to dive into the storm.

"The author of that book you were checking out the other day. He's going to be in town soon and wanted to meet up for lunch."

"You two are friends, right?" she asked, paving the way for an easy release of the information she'd been tired of withholding but worried over of its reception. The need to be free of the burden won out.

Sean's fork stabbed the last scallop then fell into the plate with a sharp, angry clank. The sound carried to another time and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. His stark glare warned of danger. 

"No, more like good acquaintances. Kind of like the two of you are. "

The pinched look on Ana's face confirmed what Simon had said about knowing her. 

"I wanted to talk to you about that," she began nervously. 

Despite wanting to believe her, Sean couldn't overlook how convenient it was for her to want to "talk" about it now. She'd said nothing about this for days. Not only that, she'd outright lied to his face since Saturday afternoon.

"Why did you pretend you didn't know him for what," she felt his anger and suspicion building for every day he counted, "five days now?"

"He has a website—"

"Yes. I'm a member—" The expression on her face said this conversation hadn't randomly digressed. She wore that same look before...on Saturday in his office. "—but you knew that already."

"Yes...I found when I looking for the caterer's number online, I forgot to bring it with me."

"You mean you were snooping around in my office?" 

The cold accusation in his eyes rivaled the ice in his voice. The expression on his face—part condemnation, part disbelief—stunned Ana into silence. When her denial didn't come fast enough he said, "Is that it?"

"It wasn't like that...I didn't mean to—"

Her half-assed answer ignited his fury. He opened his home to her. Did she think he did it for just anyone? Now she was doing damage control.

"Was that why were you acting all weird when I found you? Because you didn't want me to go near my desk and find out what you were doing?" 

Ana's silence was damming. Sean had to turn his eyes away. He couldn't look at her face and see her reduced to a damn snoop. 

"Sean," she implored as she reached for his arm. "I wasn't doing anything like that. I didn't login to your account or anything like that. I found out by accident when I typed in the address for the caterer. I know I should have said something sooner but Duncan was there and then you had the show. And after...I-I didn't know how to bring it up...because you looked so upset after you told me about what happened with Lauren."

Sean wanted to listen, just as he wanted to wipe away the image of her lying to his face, just as he wanted the taste of seafood and stomach acids to recede from the back of his throat. But that note in her voice— He shook his head, trying to eject the sound like water trapped inside his ears. And then she said the name he didn't want to hear. Not now.

Ana's plaintive voice, her desperate hands grabbing at his, reminded him of another time. Another time and another woman trying to justify her actions using words like "insecurity" and "love". He didn't want to think about love right now or how he'd almost said the words this past weekend when he'd held her so close, when he'd felt so much—and she'd been lying to him. His disappointment over not having said them now turned into a sickening, angry relief. 

He wasn't going to let Ana use history to weasel her way out of this. She'd playing some sort of game for days now, and instead of just coming out with the facts she tried to spin everything as if it were his fault. He'd been down this road before years ago and couldn't believe he'd gone back with Ana of all people. He never saw this coming. 

"Stop spinning this, Ana. You've sat on this for five days. Five days," he repeated and condemned her with his five fingers, "and you're only telling me now because you had to say something. Why did you preten—"

Her words erupted in a tumble of frustration and panic. "I was scared—okay? That you'd react like this...that you'd think I was like her."

"This is unbelievable! You're actually trying to pin this on me? So if I didn't tell you about Lauren you would've been honest with me sooner? Is that what you're saying?! 

Ana was horrified. Everything just kept coming out wrong. On top of that they'd drawn a herd of discreet but curious stares to their corner table. 

"No," she countered. The over six feet of tightly controlled anger towering above her in a navy business suit made her feel like a gnome...a gnome on trial. Sean's entire body had become increasingly rigid over the last minute. She'd never seen this side of him but for those few seconds at the hospital when his mother had addressed her in an unwelcoming tone. Even that didn't compare. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm not blaming you—"

She reached for his arm, wanting to undo the damage her careless words just caused. Her insides lurched when he pulled his hand away. The gesture was symbolic and eloquent.

"It sure sounds like it," Sean muttered through clenched teeth. He threw down enough bills to cover lunch for three people. His voice barely reached her ears when he spoke but the flatness of his tone betrayed his anger and annoyance. "I have to head back to the office."

"You're not even giving me a chance to explain?! It's like you've already made up your mind. Just because I didn't bring this up sooner doesn't mean I'm like Lauren or that I'm out to trick you." 

The way he recoiled from her words told her they'd hit their mark. Another woman's mistake had tainted his filter. A strange alchemy of hurt and anger heated her skin.

"That's what you're thinking isn't it? Isn't it?" she pressed him as she rose up from her chair. 

How could he brand her with the same mark as he did Lauren? Didn't their time together bear a unique enough significance to warrant listening to her with an open mind? She'd feared this realization for days. It came as Sean turned to leave. 

"No. because at least she had the courtesy to come clean the next day—on her own."

His words cut her. She didn't deserve that from him.

Seconds passed while Ana stood torn between not wanting to draw the other patrons' attention and wanting to capture Sean's. But she refused to be dismissed so she grabbed her bag and ran after him to the parking lot.

Explain your side of things. If he's for real, it'll only bring you closer.

"Sean...just listen to me for a minute. If these last five months meant something to you then you'd hear me out," she demanded. 

He couldn't believe his ears or Ana's nerve. She created this drama yet faulted him even though she'd just said the opposite a minute ago. There was nothing to gain in arguing this out—they were just going around in circles. And now she'd sunk to some sort of emotional blackmail where he was an asshole for just wanting a simple answer instead of a bunch of spin that included his past.

"If these last five months meant something to you, you would've just been honest with me. You said a lot of things in there but they were all excuses. I heard you just fine. All I wanted was the truth and you're out here still trying to put the blame on me." Sean sounded and looked resigned as he let out an exasperated breath. His eyes shifted away as if he couldn't bear the sight of her. She willed herself not to cry in a parking lot with people walking and driving past them. "I don't know what you're hiding and maybe I don't want to know." 

Sean turned his back on her and pressed the alarm on his keychain. The cars, the people, the noises they made dissolved. Every neuron in Ana's brain fired off distress signals. Did he mean he didn't want to know because it was over between them? 

Explain your side of things! If he's for real, it'll only bring you closer!

"How can you say that when you won't even listen to me!" she cried out, feeling impotent.

Ana's entreaty sounded more like an accusation. Sean's white hot anger turned a raging, blood red. He had to get out of here before he said something stupid, before she said something else he didn't want to hear. This wasn't the place and fifteen minutes before he had to be back at his office wasn't the time. He'd be late as it was. She marched in front of him, blocking his escape.

"Just let me fucking be. Okay? Because I can't look at you right now," he boomed, completely disgusted with the words flying out of his mouth, his loss of control and that it had gotten to this point. His stomach roiled as he saw the expressions crossing Ana's face. He couldn't take her panicked look because maybe it her actions justified them or maybe he'd put them there. He didn't know which one was worse. How did she manage to make him feel this way when none of this was his fault? He needed to get out of here and calm down. Fast.

Sean evaded her touch when she reached for him one more time before he climbed into the Range Rover. His rejection was complete. The slam of the door made her jerk. It sounded so final. How could the last five months disintegrate into such a mess within the span of a few minutes?

The rational part of her brain said Sean needed to cool off, they'd talk in private and everything would be okay. It had to be. But she functioned purely on raw emotion now. Desperation, fear and uncertainty rolled through every bit of her, leaving her shaking. She hugged her sides, trying to comfort herself as he reversed from his spot. The cool breeze whipped strands of hair in face and by the time she brushed them away the Range Rover had disappeared. Only the sound of her heart breaking remained as the clouds set in. The sunshine had gone away. 

* * * * * 

Only one thing made a man look this distracted and uptight. Duncan wasn't one to pry into his brother's love life—not that Sean needed much help with the ladies since turning seventeen—but Dad's Cobra needed to be finished and it would go faster if he had help.

"How's Ana?"

More jaw clenching and shifting back and forth. So it was going to be monologue. Fine. "You two hit a rough patch?"

"Something like that."

"From the look on your face it must be serious. Is she fucking some other guy?"

That got Sean's attention fast. "What did you just say?!" If the man under the hood wasn't his childhood hero, they'd be on their way to an explosive brawl. God knows, he needed a release from this pent up energy eating away at him.

Duncan withdrew his head from under the hood and studied Sean. Oh, yeah. Definitely serious. "So what's going on?"

"I don't feel like getting into it right now." That, and part of him didn't want to tarnish Ana's character and part of him didn't want to rehash the way he'd acted or the things he'd said. 

"Ah," Duncan said with sudden understanding. "Did she fall off her pedestal?"

Sean's brows furrowed. 

"You know, everything's great, she's so perfect and then real life hits you in the face and you go: 'what the fuck? who the hell are you?'"

His brother's assessment might've held up a year or two. He loved pursuing women and met some fine ones along the way. A few might've gotten their hooks if the foundation built adventures and sex hadn't cracked under the strain of everyday tests. Obstacles helped prolong the heat of excitement until the where-is-this-going question extinguished it. But lately he just hadn't found a woman that made him want to stay or even think about staying without it requiring a personality transplant—his, hers or both. Not until... 

"No, I never put her on a pedestal." 

He'd seen Ana as she was. She was a sharp, sweet, reserved, generous, playful, sexy worrier and man, did she ever analyze things to death. She was grumpy in the morning but had a warehouse full of patience; something he sorely lacked at times. All those traits fit together to make an incredible package he enjoyed unraveling, one he thought he understood. With her things were a strange mix of exciting and easy. It made this whole Simon debacle that much more...fucked up. Why had she lied? Why did she wait five days to say something? Would she have brought it up if she hadn't been caught? He rubbed his hand behind his neck at the thought that Lauren and Ana could be of the same ilk. His instincts were spot on about Lauren but he'd ignored them. But Ana? He'd never seen this coming. Never.

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah." But the question made him wonder if he'd expected too much of her.

"This problem, does it change things?"

"We have to talk about it," he hedged, feeling guilty all of a sudden. He'd been so broadsided by the terse way Simon mentioned knowing Ana and the way she'd danced around it. There were so many questions swirling about he didn't know what to think or feel. 

"Then why aren't you talking about it?"

Because I kinda reacted like a hothead.

Duncan wouldn't let him take cover in silence. "Has she called or tried to talk to you about it?"

"Yeah," Sean replied flatly, already feeling like a scolded six-year-old. "I haven't called her back."

Duncan's arched his brow shouted, "duh, what are you waiting for?" He must've been sure Sean had gotten the message because he raced ahead. "You in love with her?"

Then Duncan went on as though the question had already been answered. Why did he bother to ask in the first place? 

Sean got the stern, older brother look as Duncan shook his head. "And to think you're the genius of the family. Why don't you quit being so stubborn and talk to her. If you have to walk away, then at least do it clean."

One realization swept aside all the mess: he wasn't ready to walk away. What came next became simple, but doing it... That was the only thought he had as he held the cordless phone after Duncan had left. He'd paced the entire house like a caged animal wanting to break out. 

I can't look at you right now. The image of Ana's hurt face and the glitter of unshed tears when he threw those words at her branded his eyes and stabbed at his conscience. His vocabulary had gone barren as he dug for words to ease him out of this mess. But how could he let the night end with those ugly sentiments hanging between them? 

* * * * *

"You gonna follow me everywhere?" Ana gasped as her sneakers pounded the pavement. The beige shaggy dog had kept up with her determined stride for over a block. The poor thing looked like he needed a bath and a good meal or ten. She'd tried to shoo him off several times to spare him his energy but the little guy was too persistent. At least someone wanted her company. 

The jog distracted her from the melancholy of an apartment full of memories and staring at two silent phones, willing them to ring with just her eyes. Maybe if she left every drop of energy she had on the sidewalk she'd sleep tonight instead of lying in bed under a canopy of regrets. They'd followed her around every corner no matter how fast her feet moved. She should have told him sooner instead of waiting for the right moment to fall in her lap. She should have made the moment right. 

I can't look at you right now.

Ana grimaced. The cold dismissal in Sean's voice still landed hard hours after. Thoughts mushroomed about how unreasonable and angry he'd been, how he walked out without giving her a chance to explain, but her guilt dwarfed them all. But everything would be okay. The last five months had to count for something. She just needed to stay calm and ride it out tonight. 

Still every instinct wanted to jump in her car and confront him. That's why she couldn't stay locked up in her apartment. A half hour into her run, she'd decided two phone calls were enough for one day. Sean just needed time to cool off tonight and then she'd go over to his house tomorrow after work. She would make him understand everything. And maybe if she repeated this mantra enough times, she'd believe it.

Ana sprinted into the street to join her furry companion who'd dashed to the middle of the road. The vibration at her hip made her dart back onto the curb. She reached into her pocket, still bouncing on her feet as the canine looked back and waited. Hope and adrenaline coursed through her veins just as a car swerved violently to avoid the dog. Her hands curtained her eyes against the blinding light, sending the cell phone clattering to the ground. Squealing tires, crunching metal and her own screams ripped through her ears as the sidewalk titled and disappeared. A jumble of streetlights, trees and houses whizzed by before her flight ended with a brutal crash into concrete. Pain exploded through her. Everything went black.




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 07



Sean pressed the talk button before the voicemail instructions ended. The daisies Ana bought last weekend were fading. He grabbed his guitar but its strings offered no antidote for his dark mood. He retreated to his office to escape the tired little yellow blooms on the coffee table. The computer whirred to life and he replied to emails and deleted the ones about increasing his penis size and reclaiming money from Uganda. But he couldn't forget how all his troubles started in this room; that he'd been tapping away on the very device that had been the catalyst. He pushed the mouse around until the arrow on the monitor climbed to the address bar. The only foreign website address in the list had to be the caterer Ana contacted. Sure enough, Simon's forum appeared as a possible match when he typed the first three letters of the vendor's site. 

Relief washed over him as he logged into his account and saw the last login date he'd hoped to find. Remorse rushed in when he recalled Ana's hand grasping his arm, her pleas for him to wait and listen. The uncomfortable feeling eased for a minute when he remembered his unanswered questions surrounding why she'd lied about knowing Simon. Maybe if you'd given her five minutes to explain. You know that patience thing you were aiming for? He didn't want to think about that right now. Looking for some mundane task to occupy his time and free his mind of her, he remembered the daisies. 

The daisies. And then a thought snapped into place, calling his curiosity. 

He coursed through the posts from a year ago and compared the language stylistics to Ana's. He found a close match though, nothing concrete until he read CuriousBloom's last post. She referenced On Love in her response to him. The copy of The Prophet Ana kept on her bookcase had been one of the last gifts from her mother. There were too many coincidences, too many questions. 

He dialed her cell again. This time the call rolled straight to voicemail. Ana had turned off her phone; she didn't want to talk. Frustrated, he hung up. Now he knew how she felt. He stalked his way back to the living room. His thumb strummed the button marked nine on the handset; the first in Ana's home number. 

But if she didn't want to talk and he didn't quite know what to say what would be the point? Logic did nothing to quell the restlessness making his heart drum so fast his chest felt too tight. Sean's eyes flitted between his car keys and the sad flowers on the coffee table. 

He couldn't keep still. He couldn't tamp down the need to see Ana, to hear her, and to have her make him understand.



Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 08



Ride by Cary Brothers has been the one song I've played most often while writing this series. The perfect moment appeared and I had to include it, though I didn't use the lyrics. I think of it as Sean and Ana's song—at least for where they've come to so far. Sometimes I imagine Sean's voice sounds similar to Cary's: soulful, passionate and intimate. 

* * * * * * * 

Thursday, December 7th 2006, 10:10 p.m. 

"You forgot to list your emergency contact," the nurse huffed while he handed the clipboard back to Ana.

She hadn't forgotten. But the fittingly tart comeback ready to correct his assumption never left her mouth. She carefully let go of her left arm and fought to breathe through the grinding spasms. Her arm would fall off soon, she was sure of it. The freakish sight of her limb hanging awkwardly from her shoulder made her empty stomach revolt. An invisible spike dug deep into the back of her head when she looked away too quickly and took the clipboard. 

Should she have filled in the allotted the spaces? 

Sean would certainly come to the Emergency Room if she called. Well, it's not like he'd have much choice. Do you really think he'd say: "sorry, can't make it"? And what makes you think he'll even pick up the phone this time?

Sean would come. Ana knew he would. But did she want to drag him down here, forced to leave his anger simmering on the backburner while he sat around waiting for Lord knows how long? Would he feel cornered or slightly manipulated? 

Just let me fucking be. I can't look at you right now.

Ana winced and the spike dug in hard again. She fumbled with the pen and studied the blank boxes on the patient information form. Thankfully her right arm hadn't been hurt or she wouldn't have been able to fill it out. Her left arm felt like it had been ripped away from her body, leaving her with a sensation of carrying a dead weight. She offered the clipboard to the nurse.

"There isn't anyone," she whispered through the pain vibrating along the entire length of the left side of her back. It hurt to talk, to breathe and to even sit in this wheelchair. She shivered; her tank top and track pants were no match for the artic temperature. She looked around the familiar waiting lounge and wished she could blink herself away to somewhere else. Anywhere but this particular hospital. 

The nurse's face softened. But Ana didn't want his pity. She just wanted someone to fix her arm and whatever else was broken and make the pain go away.

"Are you sure?"

Reason intervened. She only had her keys and a broken cell phone in her pocket—no money for the cab fare back home. "Wait," she croaked, feeling even more defeated. 

* * * * * 

The abrupt clatter sliced through the haze blanketing Ana's mind. The medication acted as a buffer between the pain and her awareness of it, leaving her slightly numb and disconnected from her body. She concentrated all her effort on opening her eyes and followed the soft thuds coming from the kitchen. The corners of her mouth quirked, despite the bruising physical and emotional plummet she'd taken today. 

Simon's sheepish, brown eyes met hers and her mouth stretched into a smile. They shared the deepest, most profound bond humans could have, yet watching Simon Garret move around her kitchen was akin to watching an alien invasion play out from the comfort—well, the dulled discomfort—of her couch.

Anastudied him as he left the kitchen and set a saucer on the coffee table. He carefully placed a cup of Blueberry Bliss in her right hand. She inhaled the berry scent while curly steam ribbons floated up. If only Blueberry Bliss lived up to the second part of its name. If only a cup of tea had the power to magically undo the past—she looked at the DVD player—eh, day, she rounded off. Math skills were overrated when the remnants of morphine laced her blood. 

The pedestal of books under the Guan Yin figurine drew Simon's attention.

"The Prophet," he read out loud.

"My mom gave it to me," Ana explained after the liquid slid down to warm her chest. She normally wouldn't have thought such a tiny, personal detail about her life interested Simon but he had been so...kind and attentive. And well, she wanted to fill the space with some sort of meaningful conversation lest they fall back into the reserved way they danced around each other. It must be the meds because it felt bizarre speaking about her mother to Simon when he knew the woman partially responsible for her existence. 

In the laws of nature, he was her parent yet this was his first time in her home. He appeared curiously new among her familiar knick-knacks and furnishings. Ana found herself staring at him as she often did, scanning and cataloguing the traits she'd inherited from the forty-something man with tawny blond hair and deep set cognac-brown eyes. She'd gotten wavy curls, eye color, height and a dimple from him.

"I remember you quoting a few lines from On Love on the forum," His brown eyes twinkled with dark humor as his dimples creased the rough cut sides of his handsome face. The black shirt, rolled at the cuff, and trousers contrasted his unexpected playfulness.

His focus dropped to the shelf littered with artfully arranged silver frames. Ana knew when the dimples vanished he'd found the one of Sean and her taken after a Wired for Sound gig. Simon made the connection between the book and the photo instantly. If only it had taken her minutes instead of months to uncover the story linking the two seemingly random objects that meant so much to her. She doubted she'd have gone out with Sean if she'd known then. And she would have gone about her life not knowing how much she'd missed out on.

"I didn't know you two were dating until Sean mentioned you were his girlfriend when we spoke earlier today," Simon began with measured suspicion. "I didn't say anything about...you and I because it was obvious he didn't know. Thank you for not saying anything." 

The relief in Simon's voice landed like a backhanded compliment. The word "girlfriend" made Ana recoil deeper into the couch. Her involuntary jerk sent tea waves splashing inside the mug. The small shift her arm made inside the sling launched warm shards along her left shoulder, scraping the angry nerves inside. Ana clenched her teeth. The veil between pain and awareness was dissolving.  

Simon's eyes narrowed on her, his upper lip thinned into a hard line. "Are you okay?"

Ana nodded, not trusting her voice as the hot sting faded to a dull throb.

"I didn't know you and Sean knew each other until a few days ago," she clarified and then her curiosity emerged, craving satisfaction. "How did my name come up?"

Simon sat in the chair next to her and for a moment she expected him to avoid the subject given his standoffish nature. Being a keen observer he must have suspected a hint of drama when she hadn't called Sean, drama he didn't want to get sucked into. That would be too personal. 

Something flickered in his eyes before he spoke. "I called him about meeting up for lunch or dinner and...uh...it came up that we were both going to be at the same charity event Saturday. And when he mentioned that his girlfriend's company was the main sponsor, I thought maybe she was one of your co-workers." 

The irony played out like a cruel joke as Simon told her the rest. Just last Saturday she'd pointed out to Sean how he never referred to her as his girlfriend. And the first time he did—

"I take it there are problems? I noticed you didn't call him."

The cheesy calzone lost its flavor the second the question hit her ears. Problems? Was Everest steep?

"You could say that," Ana replied in a wry tone as she set the saucer back on the coffee table next to the tea cup. But she didn't want Sean's absence to unfairly taint Simon's perception. Her problems with Sean shouldn't have any bearings on his friendship with Simon. "I-I think..." No, that wasn't right. "I'm sure Sean would've come if I'd called him but...we're taking a little break," she explained, hoping a "break" wasn't a prelude to something more final. "I-I didn't want him to feel pressured." Simon's thick, straight brow jumped along with her uncertainty over her choice. "Besides, it wasn't serious."

Simon's brown eyes turned incredulous as he leaned forward. Irritation fired voice. "Not serious?! Look at you—you could've been killed tonight if that car had hit you!"

His words plunged Ana back to the sidewalk. A frantic slideshow of images and impressions invaded her senses: the dog, screeching tires, bright lights and the brutal pain of a dislocated shoulder. Simon wasn't exaggerating. She'd been taken aback by her own demonic reflection when she'd gone to bathroom. Her complexion had a gray cast to it, making her dilated pupils looked like two empty black pools.

"I'm okay," she said more for Simon's sake. He'd been so worried from the moment he arrived at the hospital. It felt perversely satisfying to know her wellbeing truly mattered to him. It took the bite out of wanting Sean to be the one who'd coddled her, held her hand and repeatedly told her she'd be alright. "I'll probably be sore and have a little egg in the back of my head in the morning, that's all," she understated but he sent her a look of pure disbelief, "But I'll be okay...I'll be back to normal in a few days."

Whatever point Simon wanted to argue remained unspoken as his gaze swept over her. He got up and handed her the saucer. "Finish this up so you can get some sleep," he commanded as though she were a child; his child. He went to the kitchen and returned with quick, economical strides. "Here—take these," he ordered as he placed a white pill in her palm. He pressed a glass of water into her hand after she set the pill on her tongue. He'd used the same commanding tone when he insisted she leave a message at her office, letting Shannon, the office assistant, know she wouldn't be in to work on Friday.

"Yes, sir," Ana muttered. Simon's dimples snuck out again.

He took the empty wares back to the kitchen. "Is there anything else you need?" She heard water splashing about and realized he was washing the dishes. She never suspected such kindness lay beneath his chilly reserve.

"You don't have to do that."

"How are you going to do this one-handed?" he reasoned with his trademark logic as if to dismiss the thoughtfulness behind the soap-and-water chore.

"Thank you." She'd repeated those two words countless times these past four hours.

"I'm going to head out soon so you can sleep." He tilted his head to the small bottle of painkillers she'd been given to carry her through the next two days until she got the prescription filled. "Don't forget, you have to take another one in six hours." 

"I'll set my alarm," she promised, gingerly easing off the couch to see him out.

"Ana? I might be overstepping my bounds here, but I think you shouldn't hide this from Sean. He's a good guy...he'd want to know." 

Ana nodded. "I will," she rasped with a dry, wobble in her voice. Sean's last words to her made her doubt her own vow though.

Simon stood in the open doorway, concern and fatigue etched across his face. "I'll call you tomorrow to see how you're doing." 

"Thank you—for everything."

His arm came around her in a loose, hesitant arc. "Get some sleep, okay?"

Ana watched him disappear down the hallway before she closed the door. There might be a chance they'd become friends or friendly after all. Now if only things with Sean looked as promising. Just be patient, it hasn't even been a day. Her tormented mind had no sense of time though. A dark cloud of uncertainty hung followed her all evening. 

She tugged her cracked cell phone from her pocket and set it on the kitchen counter. The silver gadget—or rather the call that made her run back onto the curb—had saved her life. Had Sean been the one calling her then? The cordless phone stood on its base like a beacon for her curiosity. Even though the microwave clock read 2:42 and her left side felt like it had been trampled by wild horses, Ana wouldn't sleep until she knew. She reached for the phone.

* * * * * 

Friday, December 8th.

It had to be mid-morning judging by the light filtering behind her swollen eyelids. Her eyes felt impossibly heavy and glued shut when she tried to open them. But that didn't compare to her head. It was shackled to back of the bergère. Ana straightened then froze as the aches and pains woke up and did cartwheels down her stiff, sore back. Her head and body felt submerged in water. Kicking back the ottoman, she limped to the bathroom and stared at the stranger in her mirror. She just couldn't tear her gaze away. 

Her face still had a grayish cast to it but it was her eyes that made her cringe inwardly. They were bloodshot, her lids puffy and a garish mix of pink and sienna. Was the woman with the vacant, haggard expression the same one who'd stood here yesterday morning? The one who'd taken an extra ten minutes getting ready for work because she had a lunch date with the man in her life? Ana splashed her face with her good hand, hating that she'd turned into a weeping fool before going to sleep. She was supposed to be a strong, independent woman. 

How many times had she turned the dial whenever heartbreak hit the air waves? They might as well been sung in an exotic language. She'd known disappointment, frustration and angst when a relationship had gone awry. 

But heartache?

A million love songs couldn't have prepared her for the ache that cut right through her when she heard, "there are no new messages" on both voicemail services. It consumed her entire being. Surely her mom's death should have vaccinated her against that kind of hurt. Ana knew again how it felt to have her world desperately waiting for someone else to say the words that would make the air breathable and bring the color back again

She remembered the nights she and Sasha had sat up with a box of Kleenex and a pint of Phish Food seeing them past dawn. Even then, she never fully metabolized her best friend's broken despair over her breakup with Alex. Ana understood now and she hated it. 

She was supposed to be a strong, independent woman. 

She had told herself it hadn't even been twenty-four hours since their argument. Sean had just been blindsided and just needed time to cool off. 

But logic didn't offer comfort, didn't make her brave and didn't stop the first tear from falling this morning. She wiped it away with her right hand, but another took its place. Her hand wiped again and again, faster, more agitated each time but not fast enough for the deluge. Ana gave in, letting her hurt and regret and sadness wash down her face.

How she'd underestimated Sasha's strength. She loved Sean only a short time while Sasha had loved Alex for over four years. But at least Alex had loved Sasha in return. 

Ana's stomach rolled, waves of sickness rose up while her mind picked apart every look, every touch, every special moment that passed since July. Did they have enough, did she matter enough to Sean that they could blaze through this hurdle and turn it into a hiccup or...? 

It was almost three a.m. when Ana learned how worry and uncertainty turned a heart into cracked glass, able to break within a moment, and made a bruised body double over in agony. The loneliness of knowing her friends were no longer just a short drive away added to her despair. There she stood in the kitchen with absolutely no one, no one to call. She looked to the microwave and contemplated staying up an hour longer so she'd reach Michelle. But the drugs soon pulled her into a semi-drunk fog, making sleep the only option.

* * * * * 

The splashes of cold water burst against Ana's face, clearing away the cobwebs. The splinters of her pre-dawn melancholy had regrouped, soaring up in anger and frustration. No more tears. No. More. Tears. 

She hadn't schemed to hurt and deceive anyone. It would've been one thing if Sean couldn't accept the facts. But he hadn't even given her a chance to explain. He just waved her off like she was some stranger with whom he shared no history, one who hadn't earned the right to at least be heard. Did Sean think so little of her? She didn't have the energy today to beseech him to listen or the faith she wouldn't botch things up if he gave her the chance to explain. It was just as well it be difficult to drive one-handed to his house. She didn't have it in her to scale the two mountains between them. 

Ana kept busy, calling her office, making sure the VIP table accommodated the last minute attendees and ordered a replacement cell phone all before noon. She wouldn't fast forward to that moment when everything had been said to Sean. She didn't think about the question pestering her for almost a week: Were they having a temporary fling? 

She refused think about how a free spirit like Sean would react to a question that might pin him down. She closed off any thought of how a man so decisive about what he wanted had to know after five months if he could ever love her. And she wouldn't think about her past relationships that had been packed lunches for a picnic on the beach, easy breezy fun with no real surprises. Ana didn't dare rewind to the early days with Sean when she'd felt that trepidation and excitement of standing near the water's edge. Even then she'd sensed the danger and temptation of being swept out to sea for the ride of a lifetime. Every time a thought popped into her head, she chased it away, pushing it back for later.

The self-righteousness aggravation spirited Ana through the day just as it had two years ago. She knew nighttime would be harder, that its quiet lent itself to hours of lonely rumination. But fate stepped in before dusk and sent her a little angel. 

* * * * * 

Saturday December 9th.

The vacant ballroom had been transformed into a Casablanca inspired getaway. Moroccan lanterns hung from the draped ceiling, casting the two-hundred plus guests with deep, deep pockets in a flattering ambient glow. Flowers and votives embellished every table; rich cobalt, gold and terracotta hues added to the exotic flair. Schools of faces gathered, introductions led to conversation, the groups changed and scattered about in splashes of color. Music and chatter swirled in the air. But Ana's eyes darted around the room, skipping over the gorgeous visual details. Her stomach had been in knots ever since she'd gotten the call; her hands were chilly with nervousness. 

She'd been in the middle of a one-handed clean up after Dodger when Sean left her a message letting her know Noah had been feeling the aftereffects of Thursday night's gig. He'd probably have to fill in for him. He'd ended the call with a question: Did she want to meet up afterwards to talk? Their short game of voicemail tag ended with Ana saying "yes". And so she spent Saturday managing Stacy's stress while hiding her own.

The promise of a promotion sizzled in the air and though Stacy didn't bring it up, Ana knew it had turned her boss into a high strung colt eager to explode out of the gate. While she'd spent the day at home Friday, the office had been buzzing with the news that Medusa intended to make the big announcement as soon as next week. Christmas shopping lists expanded based on the rumor. Maybe she could swing a post New Year's visit to Florida after all.

The behind-the-scenes office drama interfered with the mental notes she'd been scribbling since Friday night. She'd been anxious to settle this thing with Sean but now Ana was just plain anxious. Anxious and utterly exhausted. Her sore, injured shoulder made it difficult to lie comfortably in bed and her makeshift bergère recliner was only marginally better. There'd been no sign of Sean. Maybe she was fretting for nothing.




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 08



Simon found her in a covert corner that had become her hideout and stakeout spot for the last fifteen minutes. He'd been schmoozing since he'd gotten here.

"I've been looking for you," he said after he caught the attention of a passing waiter. He set his half full champagne glass on the silver tray and reached into the jacket of his navy suit. This was the first time she'd seen him dressed in something besides black. A chain with a heart shaped pendant dangled from his fingers.

He opened the locket and Ana found her high-school-sweethearts parents inside. 

"I wanted to give you this when you visited over Thanksgiving but the jeweler hadn't finished repairing it. It belonged to your mother and I thought you should have it." 

Emotion swept over Ana and her eyes tingled before she turned her back to him. "Will you put it on for me? I don't want to lose it." The golden locket drifted down in front her face and climbed up her chest to settle below her neck. She held her hair in a ponytail while Simon fastened the chain. Gratitude warmed her voice as she absently brushed her fingers over the pendant, tracing its curved contours. "Thank you. I can't tell you how much this means to me." 

A dimpled smile chased away the sadness that flitted across Simon's features. That he'd held onto this little trinket for close to thirty years said a lot about its value and his feelings for her mother. Her insides coiled. You never forget your first true love.

Camille Pratt-Mendoza's hawk-like eyes zeroed in on them just then. She adjusted her course, weaving through the crowd and exchanging pleasantries like a queen holding court. Even with her lithe figure poured into a shimmering, strapless gray cocktail number, she oozed her signature brand of don't-fuck-with-me power. She wasted no time in introducing herself to Simon. 

"I'm a great admirer of your work," she stated matter-of-factly. The compliment withheld even the tiniest dash of sycophantic enthusiasm. "Chapter three of your latest book has helped me immensely."

Simon's brown eyes flicked over to Ana. "Is working with this one that bad?"

Ana knew he wouldn't find Camille Pratt-Mendoza intimidating; they were evenly matched in that arena. But she couldn't believe she just heard Simon make a funny...with a stranger. Medusa chuckled as though full-on laughter were foreign to her. Her patrician features softened. The woman needed to laugh more.

Camille eyed them speculatively. "I didn't know you two were such good friends." Her dark, suspicious eyes implied more while her tone bordered on condescending; as though there'd be few reasons why Simon Garret, best-selling author, would be on close terms with a DesignHaus product designer.

"Ana's a close friend of the family," Simon rushed on with a taut voice before Ana spoke. The sentiment hidden behind his explanation didn't go unnoticed. Did he really think she'd blurt out she was his secret love-child or that she couldn't offer a diplomatic explaination? A dart of rejection caught her unexpectedly. Despite the kindness and concern he'd shown, Simon Garret had a fortress of boundaries she'd have to respect. And that was...alright. More than alright. 

He made Ana realize just how blessed she had a what-you-see-is-what-you-get dad. One who'd suddenly become the world's leading orthopedic specialist, giving her step-by-step phone instructions on how to care for her shoulder. He kept her phone from staying silent for too long while he checked to make sure she'd followed his protocol. Ana smiled inside, Dad acted as though the ER lacked real doctors on staff! Perhaps his bossy fussing had been his way of looking after her from a distance as he prepared for the game this weekend. 

"So we have Ana to thank for your being here," Camille retorted almost flirtatiously then perched her gaze on the heart shaped locket below Ana's neck. 

"Something like that," Simon drawled. 

Camille's expression returned to neutral as though she sensed something personal had just played out in front of a subordinate. "Ana, when you get a chance, I'd like to speak with you." Ah, yes. Medusa didn't have a reputation for small talk.

Simon's fingers grazed Camille's and Ana's arm. "Excuse me, I just saw someone I know...I'll leave you two to talk." He shook Camille's hand again. "It was a pleasure meeting you—maybe we'll run into each other again later." Were these two having a "moment"?

Camille's body language softened a fraction. "I'd like that," she invited coyly with a hint of warmth. "It's my pleasure meeting you as well Mister Garrett." Yes, they'd definitely had a "moment". Medusa was actually flirting—albeit coquettishly with Simon. Maybe those divorce rumors weren't merely rumors after all. Camille turned her eyes on Ana as though Simon had already been forgotten.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" she prompted politely. A waiter passed by them and lowered his tray lined with champagne flutes. Camille took one and arched a perfect brow in silent offering. "No thanks," Ana said while tapping the black sling peeking out from the cardigan around her shoulders. "I can't mix alcohol with the medication I'm taking." She'd likely curl up in a corner from a combination of champagne and the weariness leeching energy from every bone in her body.

Camille looked a bit embarrassed. "I thought not—how are you feeling by the way?"

Ana grinned. "Like I almost got hit by a car," she drolled.

Camille grimaced sympathetically. "Please don't feel like you have to stay on if you're not feeling well. Everything looks to be under control. You did a splendid job given the amount of time you had."

Medusa knew all of that?

Camille took a sip of champagne. The pleasantries were over. "You may have probably heard by now that I'm leaving DesignHaus."

What?

Camille's brow arched again, this time in surprise. "Oh. You didn't know."

"No. I thought you were being promoted to the senior vice president position."

Camille pursed her lips and fidgeted. "I turned down the offer," she replied with a hint of wistfulness lacing her words. "I've decided its time for a change and accepted an offer to be the creative director for Bergman New York." 

Ana's eyes dropped to the rustic little sail boat cutting through the waves—the deliberately antiqued silver pendant she'd designed over a month ago. If Camille were jumping ship, Bergman New York was a mega yacht to New York. The venerable, high-end department store had been around for over century. Had Camille known back then that she'd be leaving?

"Congratulations—that's...very exciting news," Ana offered with all the enthusiasm she could muster.

"Thank you," Camille said as nodded to a couple who'd greeted her in passing. "Linda Roberts is moving over from bed and bath to take over as senior vice president and John Prida will replace me."

Ana was stunned. That meant the design department would remain unchanged. All of her hopes popped like balloons. The senior product designer position: Poof. The extra five-hundred-and-twenty-five dollars a month: Pop. The trip to Orlando to hang with her girls: gone. 

"What about Stacy?"

"Stacy," Camille paused as though choosing her next words carefully, "Stacy's unfortunately not ready to oversee product development. She's incredibly talented but you've to be decisive and able to delegate when you've got deadlines, budgets and creative people to manage. I think all of that would interfere with her creativity." 

Stacy must've been devastated. She had such a considerate way about her, insisting on playing Ana's chauffeur for the day. Stacy even loaned her an old crate for Dodger. Yet she couldn't dispute some of Medusa's observations. While much more approachable than Camille, Stacy didn't do great with a lot of things coming at her at once. But Ana wondered if Stacy's snub had more to do with her boastful confidence in her vision for DesignHaus. 

Hers was a radical departure from the one that had been set; one Linda Roberts would surely follow. Stacy believed her ideas would lead DesignHaus past Pottery Barn, their main rival. Ana had gently advised her not to spout off too often and too early, making the current regime rebel at the idea of being outshined. The conservative board could get skittish over the whispers of an abrupt change and the idea of risking the company's market share. But Stacy had been so bold, so sure, that she had the department believing in her. What a morale buster...and over the holidays too.

Camille Pratt-Mendoza pinched the bridge of her nose in a way that said she was a minute away from wasting her time. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Uh-oh. "Okay," Ana said quietly, managing to feign a confidence she didn't quite feel.

Her soon-to-be ex-boss touched the pendant resting on her alabaster neck. "This jewelry designing...is it a hobby or something you'd consider pursuing seriously."

"I'd love to devote more time to it, why do you ask?"

"One of the senior buyers at Bergman commented on this. I think they'd be very interested in selling your pieces. You'd have to meet with their retail buyers and let them evaluate your work of course—provided you had enough pieces to show and if designing jewelry is something you see yourself doing on a larger scale,"

Ana almost blurted out: "Are you serious?" But Camille Pratt-Mendoza's reputation wasn't one of joking around especially when it came to business. Still, Ana was so God smacked she half expected Ashton Kutcher to jump out from one of the palm fronds yelling, "Ah-hah!"

"I'm definitely interested," she understated. The conversation had buoyed Ana's spirits until she heard the first chords of Exit Twenty-Nine. 

Ana's pulse galloped. 

There he was on the stage in a black suit and a white shirt. Why did he have to look so good? While her inner world and body had been tossed into a blender, Sean sang and danced with the same masculine sensuality of last Saturday night. But the lyrics about forgiveness and understanding had taken on a deeper, bittersweet meaning now. She retreated to a secluded corner, wondering if Sean had totally lost himself in the music or did he think about her at all?

* * * * *

They sat next to each other, so lost in their conversation they wouldn't have noticed if they'd been transported somewhere else. Ana often touched the necklace Simon had given her just before the set began. She had lit up as Simon fastened it around her neck. Then she hugged him. There was something about the way he focused on her. His gaze remained thoughtful and intense but with an element Sean couldn't name. Those two were far from just acquaintances. The way their gestures mirrored each other suggested an intimacy that made him wonder. Ana was entitled to having a past—as long as it stayed there—and unlike last time around, he'd listen to what she had to say. 

Ana got up slowly just as a small, pale haired woman sat at the table. The beginnings of a smile played across her mouth when her eyes met his then died. Her tentative moves matched her expression, one that said Ana wasn't sure how she'd be received. Sean released a frustrated breath. This time he didn't doubt who'd put that look on her wan, pretty face. 

The orange-yellow backdrop and diffused light mimicked a fiery sunset, it set off her billowy sapphire blue dress and the metallic threads embroidering the U-shaped neckline. Her dark waves fell past her neck, making her look very touchable, despite her rigid stance. She looked elegant and exotic and so very beautiful. Sean tried not to stare at the heart shaped pendant below her throat. But he found himself doing just that when he saw the sling peeking out from under the black cardigan draping her shoulders. He hurried his stride, the piece of jewelry around her neck and its possible meanings quickly forgotten. 

"Hi," she said quietly when he caught up to her, sparing her most of the walk around the tables and clusters of bodies. "I think the set went well tonight." 

He hated this small talk, this feeling that they were circling each other like strangers. His eyes traveled the room for the sake of playing along before settling on her face again "Everything looks like it turned out great."

Ana checked around them then leaned in closer before she answered. "I'm so glad it's almost over," she said in a conspiratorial hush.

He focused on her bent, encased arm and asked the first obvious question. The second would have to wait for when they were alone. "What happened?" And why didn't you tell me?

He inventoried every inch of her while she explained what had happened. Her black cardigan concealed everything the knee length dress didn't, except her legs. Modest black pumps covered her feet instead of vampish heels. But the blank expression in her eyes concerned him. Ana should be home resting.

She could've been seriously injured or— He didn't let his mind go there. "Why didn't you call me?" The horrific images her words painted made the question tumble out despite his intention to hold off. He wondered if he sounded too harsh when she tensed. "You didn't have to be alone," he said, trying to soften his tone. He didn't want her on the defensive.

Ana threaded carefully, not wanting to put Sean on the offensive. "I wanted to call you but I...I wasn't sure. Anyways, I wasn't alone. Simon was there."

"You didn't think I'd come just because we had a fight?" While he sounded more curious than accusatory yet Ana felt she was tiptoeing in front of a sleeping tiger. 

"I knew you'd come...I just didn't want you to feel like you had to. I didn't want you to feel manipulated."

Did Ana think he'd just turn his back on her because of one fight? Did she think he'd be that sophomoric? Well she had written as much online. And why was Simon there? He reined in the urge to grill her. This wasn't the time or place. Ana touched his arm and he regained his focus. Be patient. Don't blow it. Chill.

"Are you staying much longer?"

Ana looked around. "No, I think everything's under control here. Did you want to leave soon?"

She looked relieved when he said "yes". "I have to say goodbye to a few people first," she said and paused to wave to someone behind him. "I didn't drive it here—" she trailed off sheepishly.

"I'll take you home." 

After making sure a semi-tipsy Stacy had someone to drive her home, Ana trekked back to her table. The jazz quartet's mellow hum, the chorus of whispers and clanging dishes jangled her nerves. She'd delayed taking the last painkiller to remain lucid throughout the evening but right now she couldn't care less. All she wanted was a warm, quiet corner and some sleep. And Sean.

She was saying her goodbyes to Simon and Camille, when Sean left his cluster of new friends to join her. "Sean, this is Camille Pratt Med—" Sean's hand pressed the curve of her back as she swallowed her near slip-up. The unbridled laughter dancing in his blue eyes said he'd caught it too. Embarrassment heated her face and Sean's knowing smirk didn't help.

"It's just Pratt these days," Camille averred mostly for Simon's benefit. Ana's breath returned and the wild thumping in her ears stilled. "She's our vice president of design development." 

Sean noticed two things while they all chit chatted: Camille had relaxed visibly when she understood Ana and him were together and Simon wore a secret expression when his hand grazed Ana's waist—one Simon shared with Ana. Oh, yes these two definitely were more than acquaintances. He got the impression Simon knew what had happened. Even though he'd known the man for years, Simon always maintained a certain self-edited reticence about him. But he lightened up and lifted his mask for Ana. 

"We're going to head out now. You enjoy the rest of your evening," Ana said before directing her attention to Simon. "Thanks again...for everything."

Simon nodded in silent affirmation, something mysterious and profound passed between them. "I'll see you Monday," he said to Sean referring to their lunch plans. His brown eyes turned solemn when they jumped from Sean to Ana and back. "Take good care of her."

What's that all about?

This time his hand didn't just linger a few seconds on Ana's waist. "I will." 

Simon's tone reminded him of Sarah Tilson's over protective dad when he'd shown up at her doorstep ready to take her to their senior prom. At the time, Sean couldn't fathom loving another human more than Sarah. But two other loves came along and proved him wrong. Then Ana walked up to him, challenging him with a mix of sass and a hint of shyness. Her honeyed-vanilla patchouli fragrance wafted beneath his nose, reminding him how much he missed the scent, how it heralded her proximity and the nights she wore it. The perfume was as complex, mysterious, and rich as his feelings for the woman who wore it so well. 

Ana made sure they'd left the ballroom doors with no ears to hear before she spoke. "I can't believe I almost called her Medusa to her face," she groaned while trying for levity. 

It worked.

"The look on your face was priceless!" His words rumbled around his laughter

Ana sent him a mock stern look. "And you weren't any help," Ana accused while her confidence grew that they had a real chance of fixing things.

While she filled their slow journey outside the hotel lobby with the news of the DesignHaus shakeup and the prospect of turning her hobby into a business, Sean resisted the urge to scoop her up. Her careful, stiff moves made him wonder how much she'd downplayed her injuries. 

"Tired?"

"A little—it's hard to sleep with this," she admitted as she tapped the black sling.

The feeling that he'd been unfairly cut out gnawed at him again. An uneasy silence lay just beneath the orchestra of crickets, footsteps and vague chatter. The valet drove up just as the stillness became heavier. Sean thought he heard a soft whimper when Ana climbed into the Range Rover.

"My seatbelt—" she began as he released the hand brake

"I got it," Sean said gently as he drew the belt across her body and clicked it into place. The faint dusting of chest hair and exposed skin between the gaping "v" at the top of his shirt tempted Ana's eyes. His crisp, masculine scent teased her nose. The way his gaze pinned hers while the back of his hand had brushed down her right shoulder made her doubt his touch had been accidental. Sean was so close she only had to lean a few inches to kiss him. She settled into her seat instead, marveling at the comfort of the well made seat. Playing on their chemistry wouldn't resolve things. Why did he have to look and smell so good?

The SUV rocked. The unexpected jarring fired off a flurry of darts into her shoulder. Ana swallowed a whimper.

His expression and voice were tender and apologetic. "Sorry—speed bump." 

"It's okay," Ana hissed.

The SUV barely shook as it climbed the next mini-hill. "Sean?"

He spared her a quick glance, letting her know he was listening while he checked for oncoming traffic. "I'm sorry for what happened."

"We'll talk about it later, Belle" he said in a gentle hush.

He called her Belle. That's when Ana started to believe everything could be okay again.

Street lights, buildings, cars, and the people in them rushed by in cascade of changing shapes and twinkling stars. Ride carried through the cabin, the perfect epic score for their night-drive home. The sweet guitar sounds and the lush, achy voice fell over her ears as everything faded away.

* * * * *

"Belle. Belle."

A whiskey-rough, masculine voice scratched Ana's ear and pulled her from a delicious slumber. Faint citrus and woodsy notes played under her nose and sharpened her awareness despite the exhaustion blanketing her body. She burrowed into the warmth beneath her cheek and pulled in more of that sexy, Sean scent. Sean. Her eyes snapped open but she blinked several times against the bright light. She was suspended in the air. 




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 08



Ana blinked again. 

She was still floating. 

No wonder celebrities found pain pills so addictive. Maybe she should forget about filling the prescription.

"Ana."

The voice was real. Her momentary panic receded when she recognized the hallway in front of her apartment. She wasn't floating, she was being held. She looked up.

"Hey," he whispered down to her. Her sleepy, purring noises were adorable at first...until she started nuzzling his neck. It felt so damn good to have her this close again. He'd sat several minutes in the car waiting her for to wake up and savoring every second while things between them were simple. "We need to get you inside."

"Okay," she yawned then yelped when he moved to set her on her feet. Her face went ashen and she sucked in her breath. He'd hurt her; guilt stung him. Ana spoke as he muttered an apology. "You didn't hurt me. I'm sore." Her words came out in a dry rasp.

He studied her every move as they got inside her apartment. But the scratching and yipping grabbed his attention. Ana opened the gate on the blue crate parked next to her desk. A beige little dog came bounding out. "This is Car Dodger, Dodger for short—he's the reason my arm's in a sling," she cooed her reprimand to the giddy canine. It was the same stray Ana had fed that night when he knew he was on his way to falling in love with her. 

"What about the pet deposit?"

"The Medusa necklace will cover most of it," she explained though her focus never left the shaggy mutt.

"Would you like me to walk him for you?" He could use the time to figure out how to go about fixing things between them. Ana still looked tired despite her nap. Maybe they should put off talking for another day. 

Ana didn't hide her relief. "Yes. That would be great. Thank you."

Ana kicked off her shoes and freshened up in the bathroom. She studied the mirror; she didn't look all that bad. The bathroom clock said it was almost midnight. Should she ask Sean if he wanted to talk or put it off? She had the phone in hand ready to let Simon know she'd gotten home when she heard Sean's footsteps.

"How'd it go?" she prompted to fill in the quiet.

Sean grinned down at the wary Dodger, who suddenly turned happy again when he saw his mistress' fuzzy black slippers. "He definitely doesn't like being a leash." 

"You'll get used it, won't you?" The furry beige tail swept the tiled kitchen floor.

"Thanks for bringing me home," she began, looking for a signal from him.

Just ask him!

Ana shifted on her feet, obviously the nap hadn't been enough. Maybe it was best he go so she could rest. He selfishly wanted everything fixed, all questions answered and behind them. But he'd have to be patient, the thing he'd failed to do and helped get them here.

"I'll call you tomorrow...and we can talk."

"Sounds good."

"Did you need anything before I leave?" he stalled.

You.

Ana pushed aside her disappointment. He said he'd call and offered to talk. That was a good—no, great first step. 

"No, I'm good."

"All right," he said a little flatly. "Get some rest."

"I will...and thanks again."

He nodded back at her and opened the door. "Goodnight."

The air turned awkward.

"Goodnight and drive safe."

Ana looked through the peephole as Sean disappeared, she grabbed the phone and shuffled to the living room window in an effort to prolong his presence. She peeked through the bamboo slats waiting to see him drive off though not wanting him to go. While she waited, she realized she'd forgotten her cardigan in his SUV. Now she had a reason to phone him tomorrow if— No, he said he'd call. She frowned when no headlights illuminated the driveway below. What was taking so long? Dodger darted to the front door.  

* * * * * 

Sean made it down to the last step, convinced he'd done the right thing. He'd call Ana around noon, maybe suggest lunch and they'd settle everything. Until then he'd go home and try not to think how he should've been with her Thursday night at the hospital. He wouldn't think about her being alone in her apartment. He wouldn't worry if Ana needed something in middle of the night. He'd go to sleep and ignore the fact that someone should be looking after her, taking care of her. But what he couldn't do is leave when he'd forgotten to tell her the most important thing. 

Sean bounded the steps two at a time. It took forever for the door to open, long enough to make him question what he'd say, yet too brief for him to come up with anything. There she was looking at him with a mix of surprise, hope and confusion in her brown eyes as she and her canine guardian backed into the foyer. 

"Did you forget something?"

His arms folded around her while she spoke.

"Yeah. This."

Ana's good arm didn't hesitate in finding its home around his waist. 

There was no need for measured, fancy words. He didn't have any, not when Ana was this close again. Sean simply spoke from his heart. "I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair. 

The door slammed shut.



Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 09



Saturday, December 9th 11:40 pm

"I'm sorry," Sean murmured into Ana's hair and drew in its faint citrus aroma. "I'm so sorry about how I acted...the things I said." 

Ana's hair swept the side of his neck as she nodded repeatedly. He wanted to haul her body up against his but didn't dare. The reddish shadow peeking out under the wide dress strap reminded him to be careful. He settled for burying one hand in her silky waves while the other grazed the curve of her back. Ana rubbed his back and pressed into the crook of his neck, seeking as much contact as her injured shoulder allowed. The weight he'd been carrying for two days lifted. 

The tremor in Sean's voice made her squeeze her eyes as she tried to dam the tears threatening to spill over. With one hand wrapped around him, holding the phone, and the other rendered useless, Ana had no discreet way to wipe away the wet trail running along her nose. And even if she could, she now found herself tired of fighting her feelings and maintaining a cool façade. She drew her head back a scant inch. Sean's jaw worked as his gaze followed the wet streaks on her face. But he said nothing. The regret etched on his face spoke volumes. The pads of his thumbs gently wiped away her tears, making her want to cry all over again. 

Her voice wobbled in response to his tenderness. "I'm s-sorry too that I didn't tell you sooner. And I didn't try to talk to you about it just because Simon called...I thought I'd found the right time when he did—that I had a good opening." She looked at him with solemn brown eyes. "I wasn't trying to do damage control." 

Hearing Ana speak those very words in that wary, defensive tone made him wish he could rewind to Thursday and handle things differently.

"I know how it must have looked to you...but I didn't deliberately set out to lie to you, I'd never do that. You've got to believe me." 

He didn't doubt her sincerity as her eyes pleaded her case. "I believe you," he reassured her quietly as his hands bracketed the sides of her neck. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Sean believed her. Relief buoyed Ana's spirits, yet she had to steel herself as she prepared to answer his question. Here we go.

"Uh, maybe we should sit down," she stalled. His gaze was intent as if he meant to catch every expression on her face.

"We don't have to do this right now if you're too tired."

Postponing meant living another day in uncertainty. No thanks. She set the phone back on its base. Simon would have to wait. 

"I'm okay...I just need to ice my shoulder," she said on her way to the fridge to get the icepack. She emptied the uncapped bottle of its last pain pill before reaching for a glass. "Did you want anything?"

"No, I'm good."

Dodger skipped at Ana's feet and growled at the sight of her advancing black slippers, trying to decide whether he should attack the furry balls. Sean had draped his jacket on the back of the slipper chair, already waiting for her on the couch. Ana decided to stand, needing some distance between them to center herself. Plus, she couldn't imagine sitting still at the moment, no matter how weary she felt. The discrepancy in their height, the fact that they were on her turf, should have given her some subtle psychological advantage—it didn't. Ana felt as though she'd stepped onto the stage in front of a very discerning audience.

She paced a small path on the wool rug as she spoke. "I was going to tell you everything about that day in your office." She stole a glance his way. "I just didn't know how to begin—" she trailed off, pulling the brakes on her quick babbling. She couldn't just blurt it out.

Sean watched as Ana turned into a human pendulum. He resisted the urge to scoop her up and set her on the couch when he noticed her slight limp. She talked as if she were thinking out loud, as if it were easier to pretend she was alone. "I didn't know you and Simon were friends until I visited his website at your place last Saturday." Her earnest eyes matched her quiet, low pitch. She shifted uncomfortably and continued. "It came up as a match for the caterer's site—I swear." Her voice rose an octave. "I never logged into your account. I'd never do something like that. It all happened by accident."

Sean nodded, not wanting to interrupt her flow of words while letting her know he believed her. 

"When I saw your user ID," Ana paused and sat in the raspberry fifties slipper chair, "I kind of freaked out because—" 

"You're CuriousBloom," he supplied when she remained silent several seconds too long.

"You know?!" It was the first time since he returned to her apartment that Ana had spoken above a hushed tone. Her wide eyes and stunned expression were so cute, it made him forget the gravity of the moment.

"When?"

"I figured it out Thursday night. I tried calling you—" Sean trailed off, leaning forward with his arms braced on his thighs. He leaned back again while he explained how he'd made the connection to the daisies she'd bought last weekend.

"The things we said to each other—it was bad," she groaned.

"You mean the things you said to me," Sean mock chastised. But Ana missed his playful intent.

"Hey—I was just kidding." He grinned, certain it would illustrate the obvious. But Ana didn't get the message. Sean said the first thought that popped into his mind. "What's wrong?"

Ana wanted to blurt out: "How do you feel about me?" 

Sean's face went blank, giving nothing away. "Ana, that stuff you posted...is that how you see me, even after all these months?"

A wave of remorse washed over her. She'd put more stock in a bunch of unfounded theories ahead five months worth of real life, everyday facts. Sean never hid who he was. He respected her, didn't bullshit her, he listened, he rocked her neat, organized world and made it better and exciting. So what if he was stubborn, a bit impulsive and loved mornings? She was never going to meet another man like him...she didn't want to. 

So why was it so easy to doubt him? Was it because being in love scared her to bits? Was it because she wanted everything noted, guaranteed and filed away in a little folder labeled "relationship"? Could Sean, or anyone, give her any guarantees though? Could he predict their future? Even if he said all the things her uncertain ears wanted to hear, she'd still have to take a leap of faith into the unknown—without a parachute strapped to her back. 

"You do," Sean interjected. It had been so easy online to just chalk her words up to that of a bitter, disillusioned woman. But now? He squeezed the tension in the back of his neck. Now he just wanted to throw his hands up and say "fuck it". What had he done to earn this kind of distrust? The only thing keeping him from exploding right now was the fact that his temper had gotten him nowhere the last time. And Ana looked downright lost.

Sean's body stiffened with indignance and he quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression. But his eyes glittered with hurt and anger. Ana had never seen him this vulnerable before, except for that day when his grandfather had landed in the hospital. But that was natural and expected because it was family. This time though, it was because of her and she didn't know what to expect it. Maybe he had feelings...

"It's not that black and white, Sean."

The muscle in his jaw twitched. "I think it is." The whiplike insistence in his voice told Ana she had her work cut out for her. "Either you believe that stuff you wrote or you don't. Which is it?"

Oh, Jesus! Déjà vu ambushed her. Ana sat down and rubbed the icepack tucked under her bra strap, hoping the icy tingle would sharpen her faculties. 

"I wrote all of that stuff while the whole Chris and Vanessa saga was playing out. Some of the things you posted rubbed me the wrong way because—" she paused and browsed through the racks of words in her mind but the right combinations were just outside her grasp. "—some of it came off kind of nonchalant...as if getting involved with someone and just moving on when you had enough was no big deal—wait let me finish," she interjected with a hand up as he opened his mouth. 

"That's what it felt like when Chris and Vanessa started going out but I still went to work every day pretending it didn't bother me and...I hated it. I wanted to lash out and you were an easy target...that wasn't fair," she admitted. "I know you Sean, and I don't think—I know you're not shallow." 

"Why do I get the feeling there's a "but"?" Sean challenged and leaned forward, daring her to meet him head on. Ana felt like she'd been put on the witness stand when his eyes bored into hers. "If everything you just said is true then I don't understand why you were so spooked that you couldn't tell me all this in the first place."

Ana blanched and browsed the racks again. All the good ideas on what to say next were stored high on shelves she had to stretch and push her mind to reach for. How insecure would it sound if asked him if she was just another woman he was "fully enjoying for now?" Ana cringed. It sounded wildly insecure in the confines of her head. Tonight wasn't the night for ultimatums. "The way things started with us...happened so fast. That's not like me—"

"I figured that out the first night."

Embarrassment over her remembered lack of finesse joined the ambush and heated her cheeks. "Ana?" Sean implored as his elbows dug into his thighs. He entwined his fingers in a gesture of frustration. He stood up, as though he couldn't sit still a moment longer and towered over her. "Just tell me, okay?" he commanded gently. "Whatever it is, just tell me."

Her say-yes-to-anything philosophy had been easier when she expected to be saying yes to very little. It isn't a leap of faith if you've got a parachute strapped to your back. She got up slowly and took the leap and trusted herself to get back up if the landing didn't go as planned. The way strong, independent women did.

Sean paced behind the couch then froze with his arms folded across his chest. The stubborn set of his chin said he was prepared for a standoff. "Look," he reasoned with hard fought patience, "I can't fix it if I don't know."

Ana stumbled as she avoided a collision with Dodger. The dog had a growing obsession with her slippers; his beige head had followed her feet while she'd paced in front of the coffee table. He kept a gentle grip on her waist while she steadied herself. All she had to was sit down and just tell him what she had to say. But no, she had to take the scenic route even when she wasn't up to it physically. Why did she have to be so dammed stubborn? "Ana, you should sit dow—"

Sean's eyes widened with shock and confusion as her palm covered his mouth. She could just about read his thoughts right now and smiled inside. That distracted her enough to march ahead. Scripts, pretty words and eloquent phrases didn't matter anymore. 

"Just listen okay? Without saying anything back. Promise me." 

Despite the fact that Sean had an extra hand advantage he didn't use it against her. He nodded behind her palm. 

"I love you." 

Oh, God. She said it. Finally. Ana swallowed. Her heart hammered her chest. Adrenaline poured into her blood. She felt scared and...free. Air wafted over her hand. Sean looked stunned. She kept her hand clamped over his mouth when he jerked involuntarily. His hands came up to rest on either side of her neck.

"I know this wasn't what you had in mind when we started going out...we never talked about getting serious]...so I'm not expecting you to say it back. Okay?" she said in a stern voice, daring him to defy her.

Sean nodded. His blue eyes were wild and...soft.

"I didn't expect this to happen. I didn't...the reason I didn't tell you right away about...you know...the website was because...I-I got a little scared when I read some of the things you wrote. We never talked about the future and I started wondering if you only saw us being together in a certain way...for a short time because of the way we started out."

Sean nodded. She felt a smidgen of relief that he'd taken her declaration so well. You do have a hand on his mouth.

"And I don't want you getting all weird and thinking this is some kind of ultimatum, okay? I'm telling you I love you because I do and no other reason. I don't want you to feel like you have to say it back if you don't feel the same way. Okay? I'd really hate it if you did," Ana rushed on, hoping her babble made sense. She swallowed the big knot her next thoughts created. "I know you like me," Ana faltered. God, that sounded so junior high! "And it's okay if you don't...uh, love me...or if you don't see it happening."

Sean's expression didn't look panicked or uncomfortable. His lips moved behind her palm. Ana shook her head. "Okay?"

Instead of nodding again, Sean exercised his hand advantage and snared her wrist. His mouth covered hers and in a sweet, reassuring kiss. Ana eagerly sought out more of the delicate flavor of champagne and something she recognized as uniquely Sean's. His hands moved gently over her back, pulling her closer, fitting her soft curves into the hard lines of his body, supporting her. Ana breathed in.

Her forehead pillowed his, while his fingers brushed her lush mouth. The soft, wet texture reminded him how good it was taste her again. Everything was going to be okay. She pressed a tiny kiss into his fingers and almost undid him with the small gesture. 

I love you. 

Sean breathed out.

She'd said the words with such quiet conviction. They reverberated in his ears and dissolved into a drug swimming in his blood. He felt humbled and high. She wasn't the type who loved lightly or easily. Ana loved him. Ana. Loved. Him. And she thought he just liked her. It was laughable until he looked into her brown eyes. They were dazed,serious, brave and so damn vulnerable he wanted to wrap her up. She deserved the world but expected nothing back from him. His fingers covered her mouth, keeping her silent just in case.

"I don't just like you, okay? I love you." Unshed tears shimmered like stars suspended in her shocked brown eyes. "And no, I'm not saying it back just because you said it first. I love you—I have for a while now and that's not going to change."

Sean's thumb caught the first fat tear before it touched her cheek; he kissed away the one that fell down the other side of her face. The dark mascara smudges beneath her eyes gave her a fragile appearance. "I love you," he repeated to chase away any flicker of doubt and because it felt good to say it.

"You mean it." The dry edge of wonder in her lost girl whisper slayed him. Her salty lips mouth found his as he nodded his answer.

"Yes," he murmured into her mouth while his large hands bracketed her face. The kiss lost any chance of being gentle and sweet the instant his tongue met hers. There was too much longing, too much relief and too much love for it to be anything than what it was: hungry, desperate and passionate. Every velvet stroke, every nip and every moan was pure, raw need. Sean tried his best to rein in the first hit of desire. But Ana's one hand, splayed over his chest, rubbing back and forth made it hard. His fingers plowed through her thick waves. Ana winced and gasped when he dug into the hard knot at the back of her head. 

"I'm sorry," Sean rasped and probed gently this time. His brows met when his fingers brailled the height and width of the bump. 

"It's not that bad," Ana hurried to reassure him but his blue eyes contradicted her. She could only imagine his reaction to the bruises covering the left side of her back. 

He looked like he was about to say something but thought the better of it. "Come here," he commanded gently and folded his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head while he rocked her. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Time faded while they stood wrapped up in each other's arms, content in this new space of loving and being loved. 

"Belle?"

"Mmm?"

"We should get you to bed."

"Mm-hmm." 

It sounded like a great idea, except it meant moving. Good thing Sean wasn't in any hurry to act on it. The soft thud of Sean's heart beneath her ear lulled her into sweet relaxation. Her nose sought more of the warm sandalwood and crisp citrus that lingered on his skin. The scent she'd recognize anywhere from now on.

The phone chimed.

"Who the hell can that be at this hour?" Sean growled into her hair.

Ana had difficulty lifting her head from his chest. Her eyes jolted from sleepy to awake in seconds. "Simon. Shit! I forgot to call him!" She shuffled to the kitchen while Sean interrupted Dodger's playful pursuit of the fuzzy black squares darting across the carpet. He'd forgotten about Simon and the golden heart dangling around her neck until then. Curiosity sharpened his ears while he scratched the canine's matted head.

"Hello? Sorry about that...Sean and I were talking and I got sidetracked." Ana looked over at him and the small smile she wore found its way into her voice, which sounded a degree thicker and slower. "Yeah, he's here." 

He had to strain to hear her when she spoke again. "Is it okay if I tell him? Yeah, I did—right after I got home...okay...we will. Thanks for calling. Goodnight."

His brain clamored with unspoken questions while she put the icepack in the freezer. She'd been touching the pendant during the entire conversation. Now it became a magnet for his eyes.

"He just called to make sure I got home okay," she explained while sipping water.

"You two seem very close." He tried to go for a casual observation but Ana's amused expression told him he'd missed his mark. The dimple didn't go away even as she drank.

"There's no need to be jealous," she drawled mischievously.

Sean gave into Dodger's demand for a belly rub, glad for the distraction. "I'm not jealous," he huffed.

"Okay," Ana said as though she believed him but a beautifully arched brow rose to tease him. She was enjoying this a little too much. "Simon's my father—biological father."

His mind went blank then turned into an ancient TV, popping and sizzling with static as it lost thought reception. His gaze raked over her, scanning for the physical attributes that would make her words real for his brain. "I thought your father's name was Gideon."

"Gideon is his first name but he had it legally changed to Simon after college. That's why I joined his website in first place; I was trying to find out for sure."

Ana perched on the edge of the couch and petted her new best friend. "What—why are you looking at me that way?"

"It's so weird to think you're his daughter. You don't look anything like him."

"You said I looked like my mother, remember?" Her eyes lit up as she fingered the heart shaped pendant. Simon's eyes were brown too, just an everyday brown as far as he recalled. But Ana's had rich flecks of gold. "He gave me this tonight. It was a birthday present he'd given my mother. Come see."

"Open it," she instructed with excitement after he sat next to her, "it's hard for me to do it." The locket held a picture of a teenaged Simon on one side and Ana's mother on the other. The resemblance between mother and daughter struck him again, but now subtle nuances clicked into place. Ana's left dimple, her stoic nature, the gestures that passed between when he'd seen them talking—all delicate imprints of Simon Garret. And the mysterious expression Simon wore tonight when he looked at Ana had been pride. Paternal pride.

"I was at Border's that night to see him. I got lost on my way there and missed the book signing. We might have met then. Funny how the world works, huh?"

"That's an understatement," he mused with a wry tone. "What?" he prompted when something elusive flickered in those brown eyes. Oh, yeah. She was definitely Simon Garret's daughter.




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 09



"If you'd known then who I was online, what would you have thought? Do you think you would have still asked me out?"

Sean studied her. "I would've been disappointed you were CuriousBloom."

Ana's left hip protested when she rocked back. "Really," she said quietly, without challenging him. She should appreciate his honesty because it's how she would've felt too. Yet that didn't stop the flare of hurt. It faded when she saw the teasing glint in the blue eyes watching her.

"Yes. I probably would've been thinking: Why did she have to be so pretty—it gives her an unfair advantage. And I would've wanted to talk to you and find a way to get you to go out with me." 

"I don't think I would have given you a chance," she countered flatly, grateful for the way things had worked out that night despite the past week.

Sean got up as though everything had been resolved and the need to split hairs didn't exist. He held out his hand and helped her up. "You would've given me your number and thinking 'I can't believe I'm doing this' the whole time," he teased in a gravely rendition of a feminine squeak, "just like you did that night. And you still would've gone out with me, oh curious one," he proclaimed with a wink. 

Their eyes clashed. His gaze smoldered with cocksure nonchalance. Ana would've loved to deny everything he said just to wipe that grin off his face. "You keep telling yourself that, Irish," she pouted.

Sean he kissed her brow. "Baby, have you forgotten how much I love a challenge? I bet you thought you had it all figured out when you gave me your e-mail that night," he teased.

Ana had no witty comeback for that one. Oh, how she would have loved to wipe that grin off his face. 

Sean made a half-chuckle, half-snort sound at the back of his throat and kissed her forehead. "Too cute."

* * * * *

"Jesus!" It flew out of mouth when he saw the trail of plum colored blotches below her left shoulder blade. Her shoulder was red and swollen. 

It hurt to see Ana's skin marred in bruises, to know she'd suffered and that he wasn't with her when she needed him. It hurt to know she'd even doubted for a moment that he wouldn't want to be at her side. But as much as he wanted to stomp around and rail, the words he'd thrown at her in the parking lot smacked him in the face. He was the reason Ana didn't call him when she needed him. It would never happen again.

"I want you to promise me something," he said as he helped her ease her arm out of the sling.

"What?" 

"If you need me, you call me. No matter what. Okay?" His gentle demand brokered no argument.

"Okay." Ana nodded and swallowed her regret. The careful way Sean helped her undress, the way he inventoried the bruises on her back told her he'd wanted to be with her at hospital as much as she'd wanted him there Thursday night. She would've felt cut out if the roles had been reversed. She remembered the mistakes she'd made with Chris in not reaching out; they'd have no value if she repeated them. "I-I'm sorry I didn't call you...I wanted you...but I wasn't sure what to do...and I wound up doing nothing."

"Was I that bad?" He asked in a low, contrite tone.

Ana lowered her head but didn't skirt around the truth. "I knew you had a temper but that was the first time I saw it." She saw remorse when she looked up again. 

Sean exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Patience isn't my strong suit, but I'm working on it." His knuckles brushed the side of her face. "I'm not going to do a one-eighty overnight and there are going to be times when I need to take a timeout."

"That's why I wasn't sure if I should've called you from the hospital. I thought you needed time to cool off," she said, hoping he'd fully understand but feeling as though she was justifying her choice to her own self.

His large hands cupped her face. "I understand," Sean reassured her though he would've made a different choice than Ana did that night. "I'm not going to hold a grudge or turn my back on you just because we have a fight. Okay? 

Ana nodded. "And I'll trust that we can deal with whatever happens."

The seriousness faded from the air. "Sounds like a deal." 

Ana stuck out her right hand to make it official. The little gesture melted any armor he had left. He took her smaller hand in his and kissed the tip of her cute nose. He was officially and completely in love with her. "What was that for?" 

"I don't need a reason. And you'd have a huge ego if I told you."

Ana waved her hand and eyed him with over the top drama. "Oh! We don't have room for two of those in this place."

Sean feigned a look of innocent outrage and hung her dress up on the door hanger. The last two days were behind them. They were moving forward. 

"Let me," he said as she picked up the hair brush.

Ana surrendered the brush and let Sean carry out her nighttime ritual with exquisite care. There was something deeply intimate about the act, in the way he held her wavy strands before each pass of the bristles. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to his ministrations. The gentle tugs and scrapes sent delicious tingles along her scalp. Ana shivered in delight. 

"That feels good," she purred when he gathered her hair in a loose ponytail, mindful of the bump at the back of her head 

"I'm going to take a shower," Ana announced quietly after she brushed her teeth and washed off her makeup. She fumbled with her bra's front closure. "Warm water feels good," she supplied when Sean looked ready to debate the idea.

He brushed her fingers aside and undid the snap. "I'll go in with you," he said as her practical beige bra slid away. Ana forgot about exhaustion and the late hour when Sean hooked his thumbs into the sides of her matching hipsters and bent to pull down them down her legs. His deft fingers released the line of buttons on his white dress shirt. Shoes clunked onto the tile, socks followed. The zipper whispered; black trousers fell to the floor. He stripped off his gray boxer-briefs with one smooth tug. Her gaze narrowed on the ridges and hollows shifting between his shoulder blades while he draped his clothes on her hamper. My man. He was solid, strong and gentle this man she loved, this man who loved her. 

Sean adjusted the dials and led her into the shower. He must've read her mind because he reached for the bottle of the good stuff in the shower caddy. "You look like you're about to fall asleep," 

"It's the meds."

Steam floated up and enveloped them in its sweet, summer day scent. Wet skin slid over wet skin. The warm spray pelted her toes and creamy foam glided down her arm. The shower cubicle had transformed into a sensual haven. She leaned back into Sean's chest while he alternated between painting circles with the shower sponge and using his hands. Pleasure unfurled and followed the slow, wide patterns he drew over her chest then down her navel. His fingers slipped down her slick stomach, drifted over her mound and parted her folds for the warm cascade. The water did a light tap dance along her flesh, heating her on the inside. Her breath skipped when Sean's thumb flicked over her. If he did it again, a little to the left...

"Baby, are you getting turned on?" he whispered over a suppressed chuckle. The sound sent wicked prickles down her spine. A spike of embarrassment kept Ana from answering. She just had enough energy to take pleasure, but giving it? That wasn't fair wasn't fair to him.

"I can't...you know—"

Sean pressed a kiss behind her ear. "It's okay...let me do this for you." He held her close while he nudged her feet apart with one of his. 

His arms held her in a protective cage while his fingers teased the seam of her sex. Her eyes fluttered as he slowly parted her for his touch. Beads of water pattered on the tile like a lullaby for her ears. Ana nibbled inside of her lower lip while Sean's intimate caresses varied. The slow, pressing circles made her writhe. The fast flicks made her gasp. She became one deep pulse of anticipation as long fingers traced her opening over and over. 

"Please," she whimpered. The waiting made her ache, made her hot. But it was nothing compared to the sweet torment when the pad of his finger slid inside her. He impaled her mere centimeters at a time until the heel of his hand grazed her clit. Ana hissed in satisfaction as his finger swirled inside her. She rolled and tilted her hips as best she could. The mind bending friction eclipsed the twinges of pain shooting down her side. And then another finger joined the first. Hot spirals followed the come hither command of his fingers. The sensual energy took turns radiating out and curling back in, gathering intensity. Ana's mouth parted on a silent "o". She shook her head. 

"Sean," she sobbed in half-protest, unsure if the water had drowned the dry sound she made. Ana grabbed his forearm with her right hand, afraid she'd fall but unable to resist the pleasure calling her to come. The erotic scrape of the sponge along her sensitive outer flesh paired with the silken glide inside her were too much. The blood hummed in her ears and she turned into one giant, pulsing throb. "I'm gonna fall."

"It's okay. I've got you."

She dared to let go of his arm and rolled her left nipple with impatient fingers.

Sean nipped at Ana's ear as her slick walls fluttered and squeezed his fingers. Her sexy little whimpers spun around his head and curled around his shaft. Arousal dug in deeper with every brush, every grind of her satin slick ass against his cock. He tamped his own need and focused on her on her pleasure. "You feel so good...soft... tight. That's it, come on my fingers...come."

The hot commands Sean poured into her ear while he stroked her sent wild currents to her core. The energy tightened then grew until it splintered over her in bursts of heat and light. Warm embers of pleasure shimmered along her nerves while they rinsed under the soothing spray. Ana turned in his arms and touched him wherever she could, thanking him with her fingers. She felt his cock stir against her stomach and her pleasure haze lifted.

The blissed-out expression and the dots of color staining Ana's cheeks sent his masculine pride soaring. Her hand spread over his nipple, stroking him while she nuzzled his neck. He should stop her but the blunt scrape of her nails down his stomach felt so damn good. His skin tightened when her fingers wrapped around his shaft. "Ana," he protested just before her thumb skimmed the slit. A spark of excitement raced up from below his cock and he jerked involuntarily. Even one handed, Ana was lethal. He captured her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm.

The confusion in her brown eyes matched her voice. "Don't you want—" Sean silenced the question with his mouth as his dick chanted, "oh, yes, I want". Her lips parted under his. Someone made a sound as he tasted the mint on her tongue. She caught his lower lip between his teeth and suckled. Definitely lethal. She was so sweet and tempting, she had him contemplating her offer as her hand snuck across his thigh. He covered her fingers with his before he lifted his head.

"Tonight's for you," he said against her mouth and kissed away any argument she intended to make. "How 'bout a rain check?"

Her dimple appeared. "Deal."

"Maybe we should shake on it."

Ana's "handshake" shocked him and made him groan through clenched teeth. "You know, you're cute when you blush."

"You're s-so bad," he hissed. 

"It's part of my charm." She gave him a sleepy wink before he stilled her hand again.

* * * * * *

Sean pulled the folds of her nightshirt together with gentle reverence. He pushed the buttons through the holes as if they were the most delicate things in the world. Every touch conveyed love as real as the strap he adjusted at her neck. "Sorry," he said as the small shift made her injured arm protest.

Sean tilted his head to in the corner of her bedroom. "You think two will fit?" 

Ana surveyed the bergère that served as her bed the past two nights. It was deep enough but not as comfortable the queen sized bed several inches too short for Sean's body. "You take the bed, you'll sleep better."

He disagreed and grabbed the pillows and throw from the bed. "Since you didn't say no," he counteredyerlike fashion, "let's give it a try."

Ana was too tired, too tempted to shoot down the idea of snuggling up with Sean. The way his black pajama bottoms cut across "v" at his hip made her curse her arm and back. Would the next time feel different because they were in love?

Sean sat in the chair and held out his hand in silent invitation. He was a living Calvin Klein print ad. Dodger lay on an old pillow, his muzzle between his front paws as he watched the black squares dance across the floor. 

"Comfy?" he asked as he tucked the throw around her and bracketed her feet with his on the ottoman.

Ana shifted back against his chest until she found the perfect spot. "Mm-hmm."

Sean's laughter tumbled over her back as they caught Dodger dragging one of Ana's slippers onto his pillow. "He's got a thing for those—you might have to give them up." Ana gave a vague murmur, feeling too sleepy to reprimand the little friend who'd kept a vigil beside her last night. 

Dodger Williams wagged his tail. His mistress' song had a happier pitch since she'd brought the male into their territory. The newcomer knew how take care of her and since there was only so much a canine could do, he'd accept the male, provided he understood his place. He looked up at the tangled forms and absorbed their relaxed aura. Satisfied that everything was okay, Dodger smacked his lips and rolled onto his back. He dreamt of chasing the black squares that swallowed his mistress' paws.

"Look," Ana whispered sleepily, wanting Sean to see how Dodger used her slipper as his pillow. "He's such a comedian." 

"He matches the room," Sean mumbled at her temple as he reached for the floor lamp. 

"Right," Ana agreed with a thin voice before the French antiques and taupe and off-white patterns vanished with a click. She burrowed into the crook of his neck and closed her eyes, feeling like she'd come home. Every breath that wafted along the side of her face was a lure pulling her into a delicious slumber. 

"I love you." 

Her lips curled up. His words fell over her ears as she drifted off, cradled in his warmth. 

* * * * * 

Sunday, December 10th 11:15 am

"Doesn't this remind you of something?" Sean asked as their eyes met. They stood facing each other with a rack of products between them, magazines in his aisle, candy in hers. Ana looked off to the side as though the answer floated in the air. Her autumn brown eyes suddenly sparkled with the same brand of mischief that caught him off guard five months ago.

"We're one woman short." 

"Kinky—but I'm more of a one woman kind of guy."

Ana beamed. "Whoever she is, she's very lucky."

"Yeah, she is," he deadpanned with a casual nod then went back to leafing through the magazine in his hands. 

Ana gaped at his utter lack of humility and shook her head, chuckling as she spoke. "She must be a saint to put up with your huge e—"

"Cut that out," he chided, "there are children around."

Ana steered her gaze away from the knowing smirk and arched brow coming from the woman who walked past Sean. Great. They'd been the only people in this section of the pharmacy until that very second. She fired him an I-can't-believe-you-just-did-that-to-me look before funneling her attention to the bags and bars of chocolate.

She turned her cheek away from his kiss when he met her at the end of her aisle. "Cut it out!" she warned and raised her right hand to fend him off. "Remember the children," she giggled, delighted she'd gotten back at him.

"It's déjà vu," he teased as a bar of Cadbury's Fruit and Nut fell into the shopping basket he carried.

"It'll have to do until I'm better."

Sean's mouth curved into a lascivious grin. His blue eyes said naughty things to her. "Nah. We'll just have to be creative."

Ana's brow rose suggestively. "Wanna shake on it?"

She rendered him speechless for a moment, just as she'd done that night five months ago. He recovered quickly just as he had back then, only this time was different. He tilted her chin up and followed the first impulse he'd had back when Ana was a pretty stranger he fantasized about taking home. She mouthed three words while she waited for his kiss. The fantasy didn't even come close...

* * * * *

Saturday, December 16th 2:25 pm

"Take off your clothes! Hurry!"

"Okay. Calm down!" he growled, keeping his voice low as he pulled off his grease-stained shirt. Watching Ana run in three different directions at once would've been hilarious...except his dad was waiting at the front door while Duncan hid in the garage.

She threw a wash cloth onto the vanity. He frowned when she plunked down the bottle of Pure Grace. "You smell like engine oil," she fired with machine gun speed. "Oh, and make sure you scrub your nails."

He shooed her out of the bathroom. "Okay—okay! Go answer the door."

Ana willed her composure back before she turned the doorknob.

"Hi, Mister Bren—Dominic," she corrected when he cocked his head. "You can leave that over there," she said, pointing to the corner behind the front door as a home for the bag of golf clubs he borrowed from Sean. "We weren't expecting you so soon," she said as she led him to the living room. Did she sound overly chipper? "Sean will be right out."

"We had to cancel because of rain," he explained. "Just as well with the game I had today." His green eyes slanted. "Did I catch you guys at a bad time? I figured a half hour wouldn't make that much of a difference."

"No!" she reassured him with extra enthusiasm, then tried to correct it with a calmer voice, "I—we hope you weren't waiting too long at the door." Ana groaned silently inside. Did that sound lame or what?

"And who's this?" Dominic prompted as he bent down to offer the curious canine a chance to sniff his hand hello.

Ana welcomed the topic change and felt her normal self returning as she talked about the little guy who stole her heart. Though it had only been a week, he looked much better thanks to a good grooming and lots of TLC. 

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Dominic shook his head and waved a hand. "I'm fine. We had lunch before we left the club. How's the arm?"

Ana joined Sean's father on the couch. "It's getting better. I have to wear this for a few more days, and then I have an appointment next week with an orthopedic surgeon to see if I should have surgery." 

"Hey, Dad. You're early," Sean said as he eased into one of the club chairs. He must have missed the casual vibe he was going for judging the way Dad's eyes skipped between Ana and him, then back. 

Dominic didn't miss the caught-in-the-act tension rolling off of his youngest. The nervous tilt of Ana's head confirmed they'd been up to something. Her gaze darted away from Sean's as though she were trying not to give away something by just looking at him.

"So how are you two enjoying your weekend?" 

Embarrassment cloaked Ana when she caught Dominic's expression. Shit! He thought they were... Wait. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. "We...uh...we're just taking it easy," she offered sheepishly with the hope Sean's father would fall for it.

"That's good," Dominic agreed warmly before casting Sean a subtle you're-so-busted glance, one that had followed Sean throughout childhood. That, paired with Ana's overtly demure but secretly devilish body language made him self-conscious. He felt it staining his cheeks. The two of them did a fine job of making him feel like a precocious kid.

They chatted a short while before Dad "remembered" he had to pick up groceries for dinner. Ana looked at him with relief. The thing was, his mom shopped for groceries on Thursdays and his parents always ate out on Saturdays. The look Dad sent him said the routine hadn't changed. 




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 09



Dodger returned to the living room...proudly dragging in a balled up shirt for all to see. Ana turned into a fidgety pet-parent in all of five seconds. "We can't leave anything on the floor with him—we had to hide all the presents or he would've torn them all open." 

"Are you sure he's not Sean's dog?"

"Why?" Ana asked trying to sound cool while engaged in a game of tug of war with Dodger. If Dominic caught a glimpse of the stains on this shirt...

"Dad!" Sean complained.

"We always had to hide his gifts from him. Not that it did any good, mind you," Dominic teased.

"That's kinda cute."

"It wasn't at the time—he had no qualms about opening other people's gifts too."

Sean's grin was wry. "Thanks Dad...the door's that way." 

Ana, Sean and Dodger raced to the garage the second Dominic's car disappeared.

"Man, that was close," Duncan muttered with relief. "It's like he knows. How'd you get rid of him so fast?"

"Your dad thinks we were in the middle of doing the wild thing."

"No!" Duncan laughed.

Ana smiled despite her embarrassment. "Yes. You should've seen the look on this one's face," she said as she looped her arm around Sean's waist and kissed his cheek. "Has anyone told you how cute you are when you blush?"

Sean swatted her butt and gave her a look that promised retaliation for all the ribbing he'd now have to endure. "You. Out. Now."

* * * * *

"Are you busy?"

The notepad full of lyrics plopped onto the coffee table. "No, what's up?"

"Nothing," Ana said and perched on his lap. She wasn't wearing her sling but he kept silent for now. He'd found out just how strong willed Ana could be while she recuperated at his home. "I just missed you," she pointed out as she wiggled closer. His hands roamed her back and legs while he breathed in the scent of warm skin and line-dried cotton. The feel of Ana's curves pressed up against him and the miles of golden legs peeking out from the folds of her Kimono robe had a definite effect. He pulled the material together to spare himself from a temptation he couldn't act on...not in the way he longed to.

"That's a good thing."

"I didn't mean it like that," Ana whispered. Her breath tickled his neck while she stroked his arm and shoulder. "It's been so long since we..." she trailed off as she trapped his earlobe between her teeth and pulled gently. Little electrical currents surged through him and fired his blood.

It could've been Ana's sensual purr, her dull bite or a combination of both because she could've read the phonebook right then and his skin would still tighten with sexual awareness. Realizing Ana was naked beneath her robe didn't help. Her hand strayed to his shirt hem and snuck underneath. The feel of slow, questing fingers made his stomach contract. 

"I know, sweetheart," Sean began, ready to list the reasons why they should wait even as the sweet ache of arousal stirred behind his zipper. They'd found wicked ways to satisfy their lust while Ana healed. But after thirteen days of Clintonesque celibacy he doubted he'd be as careful with her as she needed. "But we should wait until you're better."

Ana tucked her head against his neck. "It's okay if you don't feel like it," she said with a hint of disappointment. 

He didn't like that sound and drew back. "Hey," he said softly. She lifted her head but kept her gaze focused on the neck of his white polo. He tipped her chin, forcing her to look at him with her quiet brown eyes. Her skin had a dewy glow and a few damp tendrils clung to her bare neck. "Are you kidding me? Of course I want to." Her face lit up with impish delight. "You're evil you know that?" he chided when he realized she'd been teasing him all along.

"Are you going to spank me?"

The rasp of his day-old beard made her squirm and giggle while he playfully bit her neck. "I have a few things in mind that I'd like to do first."

Ana pressed a hand against his shoulder. "Like?"

"You'll find out when you're better," he promised and pulled her close again.

"I am better," she insisted even though she had limited, albeit improved, mobility in her left shoulder. Sean remained a tough customer despite the telltale ridge pressing into her hip. She dragged her nails over his stomach, letting his warm skin heat her fingers. Oh, yes, he'd cave. "I'm not made out of glass. I want you and you want me, so why should we wait?"

"Baby, you're still not a hundred percent—"

Ana kissed Sean's half-assed protest right off his mouth. His eagerness surprised her when the tip of his tongue danced past the seam of her lips. She matched him, parting her lips for the slow thrust of his kiss. The languid back and forth rhythm reminded her of skin rubbing over skin and tangled sheets. His tongue followed hers in a smooth stroke that mimicked the way Sean rocked inside her. Her insides pulsed and coiled around the imaginary cock filling her. Desire melted her, made her ready for more. 

"Touch me," she breathed as she placed his hand over her silk covered breast.

"Belle—"

"What am I going to have to do? Beg?" Ana rasped in his ears. Her sexy-witch purr scraped the nerves running down his spine. 

"You will."

"Don't be so sure you won't be the one begging." She licked his lips—barely—to prove her point. 

His hand left her breast and slid under her robe past her knees. "Let's find out then." He watched her eyes widen and haze as fingers toyed with the strip of curls at the top of her mound. "Open your legs." Ana complied; she didn't have a choice. His voice was so wicked, so hypnotic. It thrilled her when he took control like this. "Good."

"It feels like I have an advantage, sweetheart. You're already wet for me and I haven't even done anything yet." Ana swallowed and fought to keep her eyes open as his mouth went to work on the sweet spot below her ear. "Can you imagine how wet you're going to be in a few minutes?" Her body raced to fulfill his erotic prophecy; the pulse between her legs quickened. "I won't be long before you start to beg, baby," he vowed as his fingers strummed the seam of her sex. She bit her lips in an effort not to give into his boastful prediction. 

"I. Won't. Beg," Ana promised on a series of broken gasps while he parted her damp folds with maddening slowness. She pressed her lips together as his fingers skimmed over her slick flesh. Her body screamed "please" but her mind held on. There was a perverse excitement in testing him, seeing how far he'd go to make her surrender to his will.

Sean's hand stilled. "Are you sure about that, baby?" 

For a moment, she wondered why he wanted to talk, why he'd stopped touching her. He resumed his intimate caresses, as if he'd read her mind, flicking her clit again and again with dizzying patterns. He switched the rhythm before she got dangerously close. Ana sighed his name.

"Do you want more?" he asked as his fingers traced her wet entrance again and again.

Ana didn't know the right answer. What he was doing felt so good, she didn't want to come. But she craved the penetration he denied her.

Sean's rakish blue eyes demanded surrender. "You feel like you want more."

Yes! 

The affirmation almost rolled off Ana's tongue but his arrogant smirk stopped her. He painted wet circles on the thigh and nipped at her ear, sending ribbons of delight straight to her core. 

"Maybe I should stop." His gravely rumble made her shiver but his insolent tone made her want to test his limits and turn the sensual tables on him.

"Yes. Maybe I should take over," she tossed back and targeted his zipper. Her hand slid under the rough denim and stroked the bulge straining beneath his white cotton briefs. "I bet I know what you're thinking about," she said when Sean arched into her touch.

Her sexy-witch voice plunged him back to this morning when he'd woken up to the feel of Ana's mouth at the end of his dick. He hardened at the memory of her warm, wet mouth sucking and licking him to a quick, hard climax. 

"I'll take that as a yes," she grinned as he filled her hand a bit more. She kissed him while she teased his cock with tender strokes. He cupped the back of her head and crushed her mouth to his, hungry for the taste of her, the feel of her. Ana was wild, hot, sweet, erotic...and his. While one hand supported her back, the other traveled down her neck to settle on her breast. Feeling her nipple pucker and rise under the silk made him long to take her into his mouth. He could already taste her soft, bare skin on his tongue and see her mocha peaks begging to be loved.

His thumb's lazy swirls sent streaks of pleasure through her so potent she fumbled with the button on his jeans. She ignored the faint twinge in her left shoulder and reached for his waistband again. But damn, it was like trying to push a doughnut through a straw and Sean wasn't helping. Long fingers wrapped around the side of neck and angled her chin while he sprinkled kisses along her jaw. The clip holding up her hair vanished before she heard a distant clank. A low growl echoed in her ears when she finally snuck her hand into his briefs. His skin felt hot, hard and velvet smooth. He leaned back into the couch and jerked his hips when she told him so.

"Yes!" Sean spat out as her thumb and index rolled over his sensitive head. His hands cupped her breasts and copied what she did to him. They made each other harder with every pass.

"You love that don't you," she purred. Her velvety voice rivaled her touch. The drops wetting her fingers rendered an answer unnecessary. She reached lower, cupping him. "Ah...shit." He threw back his head, caught up in the sweetest agony. Should he let her continue and come in her hand? Or wait...and come inside her? Ana smiled and let her teeth graze his Adam's apple. The subtle gesture held a primal message. He made his decision in that instant. "St-op," he moaned and caught her wrist. "Stop."

Ana relented but didn't relinquish control.

"Take off your shirt."

Sean happily obeyed her command and Ana rewarded him with her fingers and tongue. His breath sputtered and hitched with every loving touch, every playful bite and every sweet kiss she lavished on his bare chest. His hands dove into her hair and pulled her up for a kiss. He cradled the side of her face in one hand while he savored her, drank her. She moaned as their tongues met, parted then chased in a skilled, wicked dance. His answering growl was heavy with feral need. Her lips brushed over his as she whispered, "I love you."

Sean had her on her back in the next instant. "I love you too," he said as he loomed over her, his arms keeping his weight off of her in a gesture that was predatory and possessive. He looked rakish yet there was gentleness beneath his heated stare. 

Ana watched him with such unabashed love and desire it made him ache. She was so beautiful to him. Her beauty went far beyond her pretty features, her luminous skin and that lush wicked mouth of hers. He gave into temptation and caught her full lower lip between his lips. She was so soft, so welcoming, so everything he'd ever wanted and more. "Love you...so much," he whispered against the exposed skin below her neck then moved down her body. The image of her face was branded over his corneas as he kneeled in front of the couch. All his Christmas wishes lay wrapped up in that indigo blue robe.

The world and her lungs came to an abrupt halt then vaulted into warped speed when Sean's breath swept over her thighs. It took every ounce of willpower she had to remain still as he opened her damp folds for his lowering mouth. She pulled in the pine lingering in the air when she learned to breathe again, hoping the crisp green fragrance would refresh her sanity. The taste of anticipated bliss flooded Ana's mouth, making her salivate. "Please," she begged without shame and waited. She was at his mercy even as he knelt before her; they both knew it.

She heard his smile when he spoke. "Since you asked so nicely." His warm breath sent her pulse into a tailspin. 

And then his tongue fluttered over her most sensitive flesh. 

She canted her hips, seeking more of his delicious torment but she didn't need to. Sean's hands cupped her ass, holding her in place for him to devour. The lights scattered throughout the Christmas tree bounced off the shiny red and gold ornaments, creating a kaleidoscope of color near the corner of her eye. The furniture, lights and ceiling beams spun with every twist of her head. The blurry images blended into her broken sobs as Sean's molten tongue suckled her. Fast. Slow. Light. Hard. Deep. 

Her fingers combed through his thick strands like a delighted kitten. One set of long fingers slid up her torso to her breast. The silken friction of her robe and his fingers over the tight peak made her writhe and twist beneath him. She almost flew off the couch when a finger delved inside her, parting her slick walls.

"So sweet," he whispered, his reverent words sent her soaring. 

Sean feasted on her, unraveling her with little bites and long sweeps of his velvet tongue. Her stomach expanded and contracted in rolling waves much like the taut muscles clinging to his finger. Ana whimpered, trying to fight the inevitable as she came apart under his mouth. His carnal sound of approval hummed over delicate nerves. Her orgasm built in slow ripples, drew back, then crashed over her in waves of hot sensation. 

"I wanted to come...with you." 

He licked his lips as he got up from the floor. "You'll come every way there is," he promised as he reached for her belt. He shook his head in playful disbelief but his eyes were serious. "I'm only getting started with you. You should know that by now."

* * * * *

"Are you trying to say I'm easy?"

Ana laughed. "I wanted to do something nice for you—for the both of us," she explained as he surveyed the fretwork patterns of candlelight dancing on the dresser and night tables. He recognized the votive holders from the nights he'd spent at her place. So that's why she'd gone back to her apartment this morning.

"Come here." He brushed his mouth across her knuckles.

Feverish hands—mostly Sean's—worked on their remaining clothes. Flip-flops and slippers pattered onto the floor. A four legged shoe thief snuck in and snuck out with his coveted prize. Denim flew to the floor and cotton briefs followed. Ana's robe slipped off her shoulders. The candlelight cast her golden skin in a dreamlike glow. The light from the hallway sconces filtered into the bedroom so he missed nothing. The mocha peaks on her creamy breasts called his hands and mouth. 

He palmed a globe, testing its softness, fullness and weight with reverent fingers while his other hand molded to the curve of her waist. His head dipped and his lips closed over her right nipple. Ana's scent and taste her swept his senses and made him groan. Her broken gasps tumbled over his ears, hardening him to the point of bursting. She pressed her hips to his, brushing her softness over his jutting column in a sexy mating dance. The need to drive into her again and again until he found his release rode him hard. Ana didn't help when her skilled mouth roamed his chest, heading south alongside the line of hair. He dangled between anticipation and enjoyment while her tongue circled his navel then swirled even lower.

She sat on the bed and took his shaft into her hands and mouth. White-hot sensation sizzled down the backs of his legs the instant he felt the first warm, wet tug at the tip of his cock. He could have stopped her, should have stopped her, but her hands and mouth felt so damn good. His head fell back as she sheathed him. His head snapped forward like a magnet drawn to the sight of his shaft vanishing within her mouth then reappearing slick and moist. His hands shook as they dove into her hair. How did she do it? How did she marry the tender with the erotic so seamlessly?

Sean's sexy groans sent tingles of excitement down Ana's spine. She rewarded him a light rake of teeth along the underside of his broad head. He reacted the same as always, but the effect hit her like a new drug every time.

"Ah...yes...baby...yes," he drawled. "Ana...baby...sto-op." He swore as she twirled her head over his length and rolled the tight orb below within her delicate hand. His blood raced southwards as he imagined himself sliding into her, thrusting until he came. The thought made him push her right shoulder while he reluctantly begged her to stop.

"You better stop that or it'll be over soon." 

Humor and lust roughened his voice. She released him from her mouth with a wet, naughty pop and watched his erection bob above her. He'd been stripped of all vestiges of modern day charm. Pure masculine sexuality remained. Fierce. Proud. All raw need. They'd waited long enough. She scooted back onto the bed with her arms and legs open in a silent welcome. Excitement clawed at her when he dropped his knee onto the bed.

"You should be on top."

Ana shook her head. "I love the way you feel on top of me," she insisted with a throaty voice. "You won't hurt me," she promised when he meant to argue the point. "Please."

"You're so bossy," he teased as he knelt between her legs with his palms planted next to her shoulders. He grinned when Ana quirked a brow. She'd used those words very words to describe him when he insisted she pack her clothes and Dodger last Sunday. It was that or he'd move into her place. Either way, she was getting a live-in nurse whether she wanted to or not. He used his recliner and its promise of a decent night's sleep to reel her in.

She kissed the tempting cleft in his chin. The shadow of his weekend beard was a sexy contrast to his clean-cut features. "I did ask nicely." 

"And a smartass too. See what I have to put up with?"

Ana sent him a wicked smile as she arched her body off the bed. "I'll find a way to make it up to you."

"Oh, you will...over and over," he pledged at her neck. The prick of his stubble and that wicked note made her squirm. The musky flavor of their sex volleyed across their tongues when their lips met again. The kiss was a carnal preview of how he'd thrust, how she'd draw him in when he lowered his hips to hers. 

"Please," she whispered again as his hand spanned the length of sloping skin and curves to cover her damp center. He reached for the nightstand out of habit. Ana's fingers snared his wrist before he pulled open the drawer. She shook her head when their eyes met. Lightning coursed through his veins when he read her meaning.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," she said in a small voice.

He positioned himself over her again. "Oh, I want to."

Her brown eyes held carefully guarded hope. "Are you sure?" 

Their shared sounds sliced through the air while he rubbed his cock over her slippery folds in answer. Ana bucked her hips, eager for more contact then froze the second his wide head nudged her entrance. The shock of what was to come broadsided her. Her right arm hooked under his and her left hand clawed the sheet as Sean slowly pushed into her. Ana bit her lip and pressed her head into the pillow, trying to hold onto her sanity as she savored every second of his unrelenting penetration.

The muscle in his jaw worked as he pressed and withdrew, only to inch into her a bit deeper each time. Ana felt every ridge, every contour of his head and shaft as he slid inside. Her pussy tugged his iron width, protesting his smooth withdrawal. He kept on filling her, stretching her, advancing then retreating. The sweet friction short circuited any attempt to focus on anything but his slow impalement of her. She raised her head off the pillow and saw his shaft ease back a fraction. He was lacquered in her wetness. "Oh, God...Sean," she hissed as he pushed and pushed until his lower abs rested on hers.




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 09



Sean held still and closed his eyes. Every nerve in his body felt like it had touched the sun. He tried to shake away the red haze of pleasure clouding his brain. Invisible fingers of sensation raked down his cock, making him pulse inside her. Ana felt sleek, snug and wonderfully wet...better than he remembered all those months ago. Why hadn't they done this sooner? He gritted his teeth when Ana's hips shimmied beneath his. He quieted her with one hand. "I won't last if you keep doing that," he growled.

"Oh. Okay." Her dimple appeared, taking her from sexy siren to shy ingénue. How could she look so innocent and adorable seconds after she'd drawn him deeper inside her, urging him to fuck her? Her calves rode up his backside, demanding action. Ana was back in siren mode. 

Sean moved over her, looking for any signs of discomfort as he sheathed himself within her warm satin flesh. He loved watching the expressions flicker across her face as she focused on their joined sexes. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with pure awe.

"It's like we're virgins," she said in a thin whisper. The note of wonder in her voice went to his marrow and radiated over him. He did feel like a virgin, transformed, as he measured her slick, resistant contours against his rigid length. 

Ana arms and legs clung to him like vines. The twinge in her shoulder barely registered while his mouth swept over hers in concert with the rocking motions above her, inside her. His chest brushed solid skin and fine hair across her nipples, with every silken glide of skin on skin. Threads of red-hot sensation unfurled low in her belly, making her coil around his cock. It felt too good, too erotic to bear. Ana tore her mouth from his and let her lungs grab pockets of air. The bed squeaked as Sean's strokes came a bit faster, a bit harder. He pushed her to the edge with each driving lunge. His brows narrowed in fierce concentration and his nostrils flared with labored breaths. She heard his battle for control in his low, guttural moans. His entire body was rigid with the effort to hold back. Ana snuck her middle finger to just above where they were joined, rubbing, chasing the orgasm hovering within her reach. Sean grabbed her wrist and pinned her hand above her head.

"Sean," she protested weakly.

"Ssh," he panted at her ear. "There's no rush," he uttered as he withdrew, feeling Ana's flesh tugging at his cock. "I'll make this good," he promised against her mouth as he filled her again, "for you". 

"It already is," she sobbed at the sweet friction. "So...good."

Sean rolled his hips and aimed his thrusts at the delicate spot inside her that tore one long cry from her. Ana chanted affirmations, prayed and swore in a series of broken whimpers. Sean's hot, sweaty skin rubbed over hers, his glutes flexed under her calves as he pumped into her with exquisite force. His fingers laced hers and he pinned her beneath his body to protect her from her own wild thrashing. Ana drove her hips up to meet Sean's downward strokes. She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped his fingers before she fell into the firestorm. 

"You feel so good," she rushed on, before she came. "Please. Sean—oh!" His name rang in her ears as her orgasm broke through the darkness behind her lids. Tiny flecks of light and sensation shimmered, gathered, burned brighter...then exploded over her in sharp splinters. 

Sean fisted the pillow while Ana's slick walls fluttered and rained around his cock. His lips closed over a mocha nipple and drew the peak deep his mouth before suckling its twin. With no condom dulling his senses, he doubted he could withstand the hot surges of pleasure rising below the base of his dick for much longer. 

"Sean."

Ana's soft, plaintive call was made for his ears and ripped the leash off of his control. He shifted her legs higher on his back so he could get to every bit of her while he drove towards the sweet release only Ana could give him.

"Yes...yes," she whispered as his rough lunges shook her body. A feral shove punctuated the end of every sharp, quick stroke. "Come. I want to see you."

His voice lowered an octave each time he called out her name. The sound of his pleasure made her pussy coil around him, setting off a wave of aftershocks. 

It was the trigger that pushed Sean over the edge.

He threw his head back in pure joy and roared as he hammered into her. The world went black then came back in bright burning dots as his climax raced up the length of his cock. Pleasure erupted from him and poured into her in liquid bursts. He shoved one, two, three times, giving her everything he had—but had given no other. He shuddered as he collapsed over Ana. His last drop of energy was spent on the ragged whisper of her name he repeated against her neck. She'd shaken him to his very soul.

Ana gasped for air while she smoothed her hands down Sean's damp back. Their transition back to reality came with heavy breaths and trembling skin. Her limbs tingled and felt limp from sensory overload. 

"Sorry," he muttered as he blanketed her again after an attempt to ease off her.

She continued rubbing his back, soothing him, reveling in the way Sean's weight anchored her to the bed. "It's okay."

Sean rolled over moments later and took her with him, placing her atop him. His hands moved over her shoulders and back. "Okay?"

Ana nodded against his chest; the ability to form words hadn't returned yet. A subtle connection remained even after their bodies separated, as though they'd absorbed the energy they had created. She had wondered if love would make sex feel any different. It had, but not quite in the way she expected. She'd touched a richer, freer dimension knowing she was loved in return, one that felt vaguely familiar. 

Memories of other times surfaced and the meaning behind his reverent touch, the note in his voice when he said her name, clicked. This wasn't the first time she'd sampled that mysterious alchemy called lovemaking—this was merely the first time she'd been aware of it. And it extended beyond the bedroom, imbued in the everyday gestures and little moments that had taken place well before they said the words last Saturday. She'd been waiting on a giant proclamation of love before she trusted its existence. The realization and a feeling of being utterly blessed stung her eyes as it had a week ago.

"Hey." 

Sean tilted her chin; his blue eyes narrowed on hers. She answered the question she read there.

"I'm okay," she said, feeling a bit embarrassed yet comfortable enough to show it.

"Happy tears?"

Ana nodded. She half-expected him to tease her and make the moment light again. He cupped the side of her face. "I can live with that," he said, lightening to mood. Then he added the three words guaranteed to make her tears fall.

* * * * *

Time had no meaning. Ana lay blissfully exhausted, her head pillowed on his bare chest, while he absently stroked her back. Her smile deepened as Sean's gruff voice broke their peaceful silence.

"What are you smiling about?"

Ana rested her chin above his heart while her fingers brailed the textures of male skin and fine chest hair. "I was thinking about that day in the bookstore. Would you've imagined that when we met, we'd be here—like this," she mused. All the things she'd been so worried about two weeks ago were so distant now. Curled up together like this made their being together feel like an unquestioned fact. Yet part of her persistent mind still couldn't wrap itself around all that had happened from the time they met. Sean released a slow exhale and gathered her closer. She dropped her head again, too sated to hold it up anymore.

"Yes."

Her head snapped up. She shot him an incredulous look when she saw no humor glinting in his blue eyes. "C'mon," she persisted, then added, "really?" when he didn't waver. Being confident that she'd have gone out with him despite their online history was one thing. But falling in love?

Sean wove his fingers through her rumpled curls; his mouth slowly eased into a grin. "I wanted to know you before the bookstore. And when we met that first time—" His other hand brushed her jaw, and he drew a thumb over her lower lip. His eyes followed the movement then drifted up to meet hers. The smile had faded, replaced with something more predatory. Anticipation bloomed. She wasn't too sated after all. "I knew I'd do anything—anything to have you."

He let out a low laugh when she drew her leg up over his thigh and encountered his hardening shaft.

"Has anyone ever told you you're too cocky?"

"Are you complaining?" His tone dared her to argue as he rolled over, taking her with him.

"Uh, no," she managed to say while Sean settled above her with his hips cradled between her thighs. He was all male. Dark haired, blue eyed male. Powerful. In control.

She tasted him on her lips even as he lowered his head. 

"Good answer."



Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 10



"Oh, I can guarantee you we'll get on each other's nerves at least a few times, sweetheart." 

Sean was certain he'd just run across a field of landmines with that admission. Yet he wasn't going to bullshit her and make her feel better with empty promises. But instead of freaking out for a minute, his little worrier looked relieved to hear that piece of truth. Pleased even. And this was the same woman who'd gotten upset because they'd unloaded an unreliable plumber from the payroll? He reached for her other chilled hand and pulled her close. It would take a lifetime to unravel this woman. 

"But," he paused, "being with you—us being together is bigger than all that. We'll get through it and faster than you think. You'll see. Look how much we've gotten done already."

Ana released a heavy breath and lifted her head from the crook of his neck. "I don't think we're going make the Christmas deadline though," she said, a thin veil of disappointment over her words as she hugged his waist. He rubbed her back in a slow cadence.

"We'll do our best and if it doesn't happen, we'll deal with it. There'll be other Christmases." 

She offered him the first real smile he'd seen in days. Everything felt back on track again. "When did you get to be so patient?"

"Must be the love of a good woman and some of her good ways rubbing off on me."

Ana pressed closer and dropped a quick kiss below his cheek. "Damn, you're smooth. I knew there had to be a reason why I'm willing to give up closet space for you."

"Just remember that when I mess up that whole color wheel thing you've got going on." Leave it to Ana to take organizing her clothes by color to the ultimate level. He laughed when she gave him a playful scowl. 

Sean rested his forehead against hers and took a moment to enjoy being with her like this. Between juggling their jobs, the house, and turning hobbies into careers, these quiet moments had become precious. "After we're done here, how 'bout we head home and take a long shower and not think about packing or anything construction related until tomorrow?"

Ana turned in his arms. "That sounds perfect." 

They walked back to the twelve foot glass and steel framed doors that spanned the length of the porch. She pointed to the fiery russets, pinks and golds behind the mountains. 

"Look. Imagine how great it'll be when we sit out here for dinner."

He stood behind her with his arms folded below her neck and saw her words paint an outdoor living room that overlooked the yard of flowers and green grass. He saw a good life here, a place they could share with friends and family. 

"What?" 

"I'm not that grumpy in the morning." "You've got to be kidding."

Ana punched him in the arm then took off.

"You're going pay for that!" 

Ana woke up to the distant sound of a guitar and a chorus of soft, intermittent snores from the other end of the couch. The last thing she remembered was plopping down on the couch to channel surf while Sean took calls from his sister and someone from the band. Ana felt better, lighter. Their talk reminded her that their plans didn't float in dewy eyed excitement. They were rooted in something strong, something real. Dodger lifted his beige head as she slid out from under the blanket Sean must have draped over her. 

She leaned on the doorframe, captivated by his intensity. Despite the work he'd done on Letters from the Road, there were songs that would never be written for or sung by anyone else but him. She knew in time Sean would fulfill that dream too. 

His fingers found various chord constellations hidden within the strings. Some were slow and pensive; others fell in a sweet cascade of sound. He tested the notes he had scribbled in song, then he'd grab the notepad from off the bench and write at a manic pace. The process repeated several times. 

Sean took a swig of beer and closed his eyes. The notes floated in perfect arrangement behind his eyelids. He set the bottle on the side table and tested the image on his guitar. Threads of awareness spread down his back in a webbed dance while the pen scrolled across the page. Ana was near. 

She stood in the doorway, wearing one of his white dress shirts, arms crossed and the top of one foot hooked behind the ankle of the other. Soft. Beautiful. Inviting. That's what Ana was with those disheveled waves framing her pretty face. It's what he loved about the mornings when he woke up and found her curled next to him with her bare skin all warm and soft from sleep. He felt a smile working its way to his mouth. Soon all his mornings would begin that way instead of a few days here and there.

"That's good," she said as she padded barefoot across the wooden deck. "Don't stop." Her sleepy rasp drifted over him and awoke a need that had been neglected for too many days. She folded her legs under her on the bench and looked so adorable with those pink crease marks on her cheek. 

"Do you know yet when the video's going to debut?"

Sean shook his head and continued to play. 

"I can't wait to see it, it's going to be a hit."

He took another sip of beer. Ana's determination and utter lack of subtlety made him smile. Her belief in him did amazing things for his ego. "You wouldn't just be a wee bit biased, now would you?" he teased while his thumb and index met.

Ana crinkled her nose and took the guitar from his lap. "Not one bit." She dipped her head while her graceful fingers plucked the strings in the way he'd taught her.

"That's pretty good."

A streak of muted light fell over her hair and face as she raised her head. "Now who's biased," she quipped with unwarranted humility.

"I recognize talent when I see it."

But it wasn't her talent he was staring at and she knew it. Her brown eyes sparkled with a mix of sexual awareness and mischief as she strummed the guitar. She stopped playing and set the guitar on the table next to her. "Brennan, are you buttering me up?"

"Only if it's working."

Ana closed the gaping panels that lured him with small peeks of golden skin and cleavage. She rubbed her arms as she said, "You're gonna have to do better than that." 

"Cold?" Sean saw his chance to get her inside and in his warm bed where he could reacquaint himself with those lush curves he pretended not to notice during their chaste shower.

She scooted over into his waiting arms and nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder. Her eyes skipped over the string-light lanterns swaying above them. "It's hard to believe this is one our last weekends out here." 

The wistful note in her words caught his attention. Was there more than nervousness about the future that fueled her outburst this afternoon? Her sad smile didn't help either. 

"Lots of good memories here... I miss it already." 

The unwelcome questions that had snuck up on him vanished. He saw Ana at the dining table, her hair up, wearing a black dress. She'd been all cute and embarrassed after the Rioja she'd been drinking sprayed out her mouth. He must have said something funny that July night—though he couldn't remember what it was. Pages of memories flew by in quick animation. This was where it all began for them.

He rested his jaw on her head and inhaled Ana's bare skin. Clean. Delicate. Feminine. "We'll make new ones." 

"Yeah...and at least we can still visit." Her cool fingers slid under his t-shirt to trace spirals over his stomach. "You know it's kind of a full circle thing that Duncan gets to enjoy all the work Grace put into garden. I hope he's happy here, he deserves it." Her compassion blanketed him in warmth. He held her close, stroking her legs and back. Life was perfect.

"Let's head inside, you're getting cold." 

Ana snuggled closer. Feeling her pressed against him like this was having an effect. "I'm fine. Besides, I've got my Irish love to keep me warm," she supplied with a cheesy, dimpled grin.

Sean playfully rolled his eyes and shook his head in mock annoyance. "Oh, God!" Ana's kooky habit of replying with lyrics was one of those things that made him laugh when it didn't drive him nuts. He gave her pout a quick kiss. "Be right back." 

He returned with her flip-flops in his hand and a blanket draped over his shoulder. His thoughtfulness touched her as though he'd brought her daisies and chocolate. These were the little things that whispered I love you, I'll look after you . He eased her legs over his lap and arranged the blanket over their limbs before folding his arms around her. 

"Better?" His voice was as gentle and protective as the gesture. 

"Mm-hmm." The soft cotton of his shirt brushed her cheek as she nodded her answer. She burrowed against his chest, seeking more of his solid warmth. She kissed the side of his neck.

"What's that for?" 

"You always take such good care of me."

Sean wasted no time listing his good deeds. He almost had her believing he was a veritable saint by the time she rewarded each one with a line of kisses along his jaw. He chuckled when she told him so. "I wouldn't go that far." His hand traveled up her thigh to illustrate his point. The way his eyes raked over her made her ache for things no saint could deliver. "You hit me hard this afternoon and never said sorry."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she cooed as her fingers skated over his mint green shirt from collar to cuff. "I would kiss it all better, but you're overdressed."

His hand stopped shy of where she needed to be touched. "You're a smart girl. Improvise."

Ana nipped his ear then licked the tip of the lobe...the way that drove him wild. "Like this?"

He made a low sound. "You can do better." 

She cupped his jaw and drew his head down to hers. "How about this?" she said against his mouth then slanted her lips over his, teasing him with the promise of her kiss. 

Sean's fist closed over her hair. He pulled her head back, forcing her eyes to his. "You like playing with fire, Belle?"

His rough demand made her swallow with the hot anticipation of kissing him, tasting him. The slight clench in her throat worked its way down, unfurling liquid desire within her core. 

"Two can play this game." His lips skimmed the wild pulse below her jaw. She spread her legs with shameless abandon when he pushed his hand between her thighs. His smile was devilish and proud when he cupped her. "See what happens when you play with fire?" His fingers flexed over her panties, making her arch under his big, warm hand. "I bet you're hot inside." For every word he rasped at her neck, he stroked her. Languid touches that made her want more than his fingers caressing her through thin cotton, more than his breath on her skin. Ana wanted more. 

"Do you want me to touch you there?"

"Yes." 

She moaned as she angled her head to his and sought his mouth. His lips opened over hers the instant they connected. She gasped when his thumb slid under the edge of her panties. His tongue flicked away the sound and his taste unfolded with every velvet sweep inside her mouth. Fruit. Malt. Warm. Smooth. Ana closed her eyes and twined her fingers around the damp strands at his nape, pulling him closer, wanting more of his mouth. Their tongues bandied back and forth, teasing, licking...savoring. His fingers mimicked that slow, erotic pace as they traced the seam of her sex and delved deeper. He made a low sound of masculine pleasure as he tested her arousal. Even now he still reacted with surprise at how quickly she responded to his touch. 

The blanket flew behind her. Sean scooped her onto his lap, his voice all whiskey and smoke when he whispered against her lips, "Let's go inside." 

"Don't want to wait." She breathed out then breathed in the faint scent of soap, water and Sean. His arms tensed under her knees. A question and answer passed in one look. 

Everything stopped...then exploded in a flurry of frantic movement. 

Sean's shirt landed on the blanket. A short conspiratorial laugh filled the air as they worked to drag off Ana's panties. He fisted the side panel, ready to tear them off her.

"Wait." 

She lifted her hips and shimmied so he could tug the scrap of cotton down her legs. Damn. The way her ass brushed over his fly made his cock pulse with every pass. Pulse. Pulse. Pulse... 

And then she straddled him. 

Sean stifled a groan as her delicious weight settled over him. Just one piece of clothing separated him from the softness he'd had under his hand. So close, he and his shorts barely contained his lust. She went after the waistband of his shorts as he attacked the buttons on her shirt. The zipper sighed and her eyes widened. 

"You're going commando?" Her voice held threads of disbelief even as his shaft sprang up to demand her attention. Ana couldn't look away. His cock was flushed an angry reddish pink and taut; the broad head glistened. She had to touch it, feel its weight and smoothness in her hand.

His knuckles smoothed across her clavicle then lower. "You're not the only practical one around here." Amazing that she still blushed even after all this time. The look of delight and wonder on her face was an aphrodisiac in and of itself. But then he never tired of watching Ana watch him. Her gaze traveled from base to tip and back felt like a caress, making the sweet ache build even before her right palm closed over his length.

She caught him staring at her. "What?"

"You're...beautiful." He half expected a sassy comeback, maybe more of her sweet shyness.

Her left hand cradled the side of his face. "You make me feel that way." And she made his masculine pride soar knowing he pleasured her in such a deep way. "You're beautiful too," she added with that adorable, impish dimple. 

Beautiful had been an understatement. 

Out here under a canopy of bougainvillea and soft lights, with his shirt hanging open, Ana was...exquisite, breathtaking...perfect. Her hand drifted down his neck, past his collarbone. "In so many ways," she whispered before she kissed him. His stomach contracted as her forefinger circled his navel again and again in tandem with the hand tormenting the tip of his cock. "Inside and out." Her breathy voice evoked sex. Primal. Raw.

Inside and out.

Those three words echoed inside his ears. They carried to all his senses until he had to get inside Ana, to feel her, hear her and see her while he moved...inside and out.

Ana suckled his lower lip, sending hot currents straight to his erection. He jerked in her hand. Her tongue did a wicked dance around that sensitive spot below his Adam's apple. "You feel...so...hot." 

He watched in fascination as her fingers dipped between her legs. Her index and formed a ring around the middle of his shaft, spreading her moisture over him, driving him crazy with every twist, every squeeze. Hold on. Don't lose control.

"So hot...you feel so good." 

Sean cupped her sex, rubbing his palm over her damp kinky curls. "So do you, sweetheart." Her hands flew to his shoulders and she arched into his hand. "You like that, don't you?" Her damp folds got wetter as if her body had tuned into the same frequency making his whole body tight with arousal. "Say it."

"I-I like...it." She gasped as his touch grew more intimate then cried out when his finger entered her—barely. "More...want more." The cool night air danced over her nipples, making them pucker. She cupped one breast and pressed her forearm against the other, trying to dull the heaviness, the need to be touched. "Fuck—Sean!" Ana pleaded while another finger pressed at her entrance.

"Soon, baby," he husked at her ear. "Let's see how ready you are." Each hypnotic word preceded a slow, slick push inside her. Ana shook her head, trying to clear the haze of lust and pleasure as his fingers filled her inch by inch. 

"'M ready. Ah," she mumbled as he thrust in, then fanned out those long fingers.

"Ride my fingers, Belle...show me how you'll ride me." 

Sean urged her on with a string of sexy words while the hand on her hip guided her over him. He could have said anything just then, especially when he took her cue and nuzzled his head against the hand palming her breast. His hot, moist mouth closed over her nipple and pulled the tight peak inside. She buried her head in his neck, her nails digging into his biceps while he laved her with lurid swirls of tongue and wicked scrapes of teeth. Pleasure coiled beyond his lunging fingers.

Her voice sounded distant to her own ears as she spoke. "Sean, please..." Her slick walls clasped his fingers, trying to draw them deeper to that place inside her that would send her over the edge. Why wasn't he driving deeper? Yes! Right there.

"You need to come, don't you?"

She spat out a "yes" before he finished; partly to answer him, partly because she was climbing, getting close.

Sean gritted his teeth as the soft, wet flesh around his fingers fluttered. Ana needed a little more time before his cock replaced them. He continued stroking her until her choppy moans turned into one blissful note. "Come on me," he grated before he withdrew his soaked fingers. A few rough shoves left his shorts shackled around his ankles. He steadied her as she trapped his cock between her damp sex lips and began rubbing over him, spreading her moisture and warmth from tip to base then back. His eyes snapped shut and his head rolled back like a puppet cut from its strings. "Jesus."

"You like that—say it."

Sean nipped her ear. "Tease." 

Electricity spiraled through his veins as Ana swayed over him again. "You love it." Damn, she loved pushing him to the edge. 

"Yes." He grunted when Ana's silken heat touched the tip of his dick. "Fuck—yes" 

"Soon."

Their hissed-in breath buzzed in the air the instant his crown slipped inside her. Sean groaned as she slid down his length, opening around him. Her fingers snared his wrists, squeezing them while soft yielded slowly to hard. 

"Don't. Stop." 

He couldn't remain still; he needed more. His hips rose up, filling her in one smooth stroke. The fit, the feel of skin on skin was...perfect. 

Ana rocked her hips. 

He couldn't take his eyes away as she writhed over him with graceful arcs and sharp rolls. Her hand rose to her nape then slid across the jutting line of her clavicle. Every undulating move was pure burlesque sensuality.

"Yes," he chanted as she quickened her tempo. He cupped her backside, bouncing her on his surging cock as she writhed on its length. The urge to come grew with every pass of creamy friction. In. Out. Up. Down. He knew he couldn't hold back much longer the instant Ana pierced him with her intense dark gaze. An invisible weight lodged in his chest then radiated out in splinters. Goosebumps covered his skin. Eyes closed, he gritted his teeth as her hips bumped his. Even now he felt her watching him, feeding him with the unbridled lust and joy he'd read in her eyes seconds before. She pulled back, dragging his length along slick flesh. So hot, snug. The next thought tumbled out in a broken sigh as Ana ground down on him. "Nothing better." 

She withdrew halfway then thrust down again. Faster. Harder. His control was spinning away. He reached between them intent on having her lead him over the edge.

"Mmm—right there," she said in a tiny whimper. "Yes! So good...so good."

Ana twisted and jerked. More friction. More pleasure. Sensation shimmered, building in one tight mass. He dropped delicate kisses along her jaw, down her neck then dipped his head to her breast. His tongue flicked her nipple, titillating her with each velvet pass. The pressure built within her as she sank onto his hot rigid column and clenched around him. Ana kept filling her body with his while Sean kept filling her mind with the whispers of love and beauty he branded on her skin. He answered her wild movements. She answered his tender words. Give and take, again and again in an intimate soul dance. 




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 10



Even as her climax rushed closer, she tried to delay it. She wanted to prolong her pirouette within this space of body and soul that reached deeper than the pleasures to come. The rasp of Sean's calloused fingers rolling around her clit lured her away. Sean suckled her—hard. Tiny points of sensation within her core.

The pressure built and built and built... 

"That's it. There it is...come on, come on me." 

His words could have been in any language and she would've understood them. Sensation burst within her and blew out, showering every nerve with hot, tingling bliss. His tormented moans told her how badly he needed the sweet release he was fighting for her sake. Ana grabbed the back of the love seat and rode him hard, forcing him to join her. The wicker dug into her palms as she braced herself against his fast, sharp shoves.

Sean crossed his arms around Ana's back, helpless to slow himself as he drove into her with short, rough strokes. She matched every move he made. Her soft skin rubbed over his chest as she clung to him the way her satin sheath clung to his cock. Those brown eyes demanded everything he had and held nothing back when she looked at him. She undid him with one look. Sean poured himself into her in quick, scalding spurts as the last pulses of her orgasm overlapped the start of his. He barely registered the rough scrape of the cushion he sat on or the wicker against his back as he convulsed beneath her. Everything spun away in white-hot pleasure.

They remained joined as they slowly floated into an awareness of the world around them. A chirping calypso of bright night sounds rose above their shared quiet. Ana rubbed her cheek across his soft hair as the last tremors coursed them. His breath hitched, tickling her shoulder when he exhaled a rush of air. 

"We should fight more often."

Sean drew his head back. Ana cupped his face, tilting his chin up for her kiss. 

"Ow!" 

The shirt she'd stolen from him did little to dull the sting on her backside. His hands dove beneath the shirt to soothe the bittersweet ache he'd inflicted, oh-so very well. A sliver of dark excitement flared to life 

"Payback's a mother, isn't it?"

She bit his shoulder hard enough to leave a temporary mark; soft enough for him to like it.

"Punish me some more."



Ana shifted on to her side to find Sean's dark head on the pillow next to hers. Unable to resist, she brushed back the wave of black hair on his forehead. With his knuckles propped under his cheek, he looked angelic and boyishly beautiful. The rebellious strands fell to his brow, totally in keeping with the owner's spirit. 

She thought, felt and knew one thing in this Sunday morning stillness. "I love you." She could muscle through all the hassles of moving and construction if it meant she'd get to wake up like this everyday. One blue, blue eye peered at her then closed, startling her just as she nestled back into the warm sheets.

"Love you too," he said in a scratchy whisper then fell asleep again.

Oh, yes. Waking up next to the one she loved was a blessing.

* * * * *

January, 2008.

"See you later," Ana said before Sean shut the car door. 

She watched the Range Rover disappear down the drive. He was on his way to do a sound check for his guest appearance with Wired for Sound. Letters from the Road wouldn't drop until another three weeks but the album was getting lots of good buzz. She walked up to the front door, proud that the chance the band had taken in having Sean write, co-write and produce most of their songs would pay off. At the last minute, they decided to include an acoustic version of Exit Twenty-nine on the album; a duet between Darien Scott and Sean. It turned out to be the lead single for the new record. 

She wiped her dusty shoes on the mat and went to the kitchen. Once the concrete got poured next week, trekking dirt from the driveway into the house would be a thing of the past. "Dad, do you want a beer?"

"You read my mind."

Ana grabbed a bottle of water and the beer. "Let's go outside and get some fresh air."

They sat down on five-gallon paint drums and chatted about what was left to do now that the contractors had completed their work. Ana brought an ear to each shoulder to release the tightness around her neck. Some of it had to do with the bags of trash they'd carried out, most of it was because she'd been on high alert while Sean was there. She suspected her dad's visit was merely a ruse to interrogate them about their plans for the future.

"Thanks for helping out...and for not bringing up anything about us getting married." She felt as tentative as a newborn foal testing its legs whenever they talked about something personal. Or at least when they tried to. Her dad reserved his eloquence for the football field and playbooks. That was just his way and Ana accepted it. Yet that didn't stop the disappointment from kicking up, like right now.

Don Williams studied the bottle in his hand and took another swig.

"I think he'd marry you tomorrow. It's not him I'm worried about." Her father may not have been as longwinded off the field but he took his bluntness with him everywhere.

"What do you mean? I love Sean, I want to marry him." 

Don put up his hands. His weathered face gave nothing away until he pursed his lips. Their brown eyes met and the standoff began. Well, if he was going to drag it out of her...

"I want to marry him, I do—more than anything else." Why did that sound so defensive? "It's just..." Ana sighed. "You're going to think I'm nuts, but sometimes being this happy freaks me out."

His sparse grey brows drew close. 

"It's not like every day's perfect, don't get me wrong, we work at it. But it's not hard, you know? Sometimes, I think: 'is this for real?' And I worry that something'll happen and it'll all go away." 

All Ana got was silence. She felt self-conscious and exposed. Oh, God. He probably was just as uncomfortable as she was. "I know, it's weird," she said for his sake and turned her attention to the lawn.

"No, it's not." 

He said it with such quiet understanding it shocked her. He stared down to the floor. Ana winced inside when their eyes met. "Don't let what happened between me and your mother keep you from being happy. We made some mistakes but there were lots of good times too. And we had you. You know back then people didn't talk the way they do now. We didn't have Oprah." His smile was forced but sweet. "Times are different. You and Sean are different." 

"You'll be okay, Ana. Your head's on straight. I can't take credit for that. Your mother raised you mostly by herself, even when we were together." He waved off her protests and continued. "After the divorce...I didn't step up the way I should have—I'm sorry."

Ana wiped her cheeks. She never realized just how much she needed to hear those words or how cathartic they'd be until now. She thought she'd convinced herself it was okay if they never came. "Dad, it wasn't all your fault, I didn't make it easy on you."

Don shook his head. His voice was thick with remorse when he said, "You were just a kid; you weren't supposed to have all the answers. I was your father." 

"You still are. Simon will never take your place. I hope you know that." She laid her hand on his knee. "And it's not too late for us to be close again." 

He was too choked up to do anything but nod and squeeze his eyes between his fingers Seeing her tough-as-nails dad fight back tears made Ana's eyes water. He held on way too tight when her hand covered his but it was the best feeling in the world. 

The conversation went on and Ana got advice on marriage that came with straightforward wisdom. He told her about the lessons he'd learned when he and Gwen almost separated. It was the conversation she easily could've had with her mom. It was the conversation she thought she'd never have with her dad. He asked all the questions a father would ask before he gave his blessing. Then he gave it.

"Just promise me one thing, okay? Just because I'm giving you my blessing doesn't mean I don't think you're doing this thing ass backwards."

"Da-ad."

"Let me finish. As much as I don't like it, I don't want you getting married because you think you have to, okay? You're a smart girl—woman. Follow your heart and don't let anyone push you into anything you don't want to do. That goes for your old man too." 

"Can I get that in writing?"

His knuckles grazed her jaw. "A real lil smartass, aren't you?"

"I wonder who I got it from?"

They laughed.

It was late afternoon when Ana started locking up the empty house. Her t-shirt, jeans and shoulders bore the toll of a long day of cleaning up. Her favorite part would start next week: decorating! She had two weeks to get it done before Super Bowl Sunday. In talking about her plans she deliberately veered off into the topic where her dad felt most at home. 

He folded his arms. "Now, you wouldn't be going with the Giants just to piss Sean off?"

"We-ell...maybe just a little. He wants to buy this huge flat screen TV so we can all feel like we're right there. Can you imagine the look on their faces if the Patriots lose?" 

He chuckled. It was the highlight of Ana's day and the best housewarming gift he could have given her.

"But after watching that game where they nearly came back I think they have a good chance." 

Her dad's shit-eating grin didn't fade as they walked to the foyer. "Right." 

She found him staring up at the façade after she locked the front door. "Everything okay, Dad?"

"I'm proud of you. If your mother were here she'd say the same thing and she'd tell you you deserve to be happy." 

She hugged him. There was no awkwardness when he hugged her back.

A soft breeze blew around them as they went back to the time when a little girl watched her father as if he were her hero. 

Don Williams had thought he'd only see that look on her face in old photos. 

* * * * *

Saturday February 2nd, 2008.

Car Dodger Williams sunbathed in front of Guan Yin. Surrounded by a bed of violets, the statue watched over the mischievous canine with unwavering compassion. He looked back before he approached the dainty flowers to see if that would animate the figure.  

"No—no—no!" came the gentle reprimand from the porch. 

Humans! First he had to suffer the indignity of watching while they ate the delicious smelling food, now this. Dodger lowered his head and sent his mistress a contrite look just in case there was something left on her plate for him. Her mate had adopted the good habit too so he turned his head to the male and threw in a tail wag for good measure.

"It's so pretty and peaceful out here," Ana said as the sunlight poked through the wall of trees to lie on the grass. The coolness from the night before still lingered in the air. Morning dew clung to the leaves and glimmered in the grass like randomly strewn diamonds.

The garden had started to fill in, just in time for their unofficial housewarming / Super Bowl party tomorrow. Small projects were still pending but the structural elements were complete. And the major rooms were styled thanks to the restless energy she'd had last night. Thinking about the big unveiling tomorrow made her eager for this day to pass. Then again, they'd worked so hard for this day to come and reveling in it together was worth cherishing. 

Despite having moved in two weeks ago, this was the first weekend it felt like a home. It was all the more special because Sean would be here all weekend. The band's media blitz in support of Letters from the Road had taken him across the coast to perform on the talk show circuit and launch parties. Ana joined him whenever she could and wondered where Sean got his energy from because traveling with a band was not as glamorous as it appeared on TV.

"Feels like we're somewhere else."

"Yes. Imagine how it'll look when summer comes around." The purple and white bougainvillea would climb across the arbor Sean and Duncan had put up to frame the loggia by then. She raised her glass of orange juice to his. "We made it, Irish."

"It's almost hard to believe. It went by so fast."

Ana wrinkled her nose. "It just feels that way 'cause we're almost done." 

She took another slow, provocative bite of the soufflé. For a few seconds Sean forgot his food and simply stared. Sensual awareness laced his blood like cognac, heavy and warm.

"How is it?"

"My love for you grows exponentially with every bite." 

Ana's grin deepened as if she'd been tickled by her own humor. The way she embraced her dorkish side was inexplicably one of her most endearing traits. There she sat all ladylike with her legs crossed, wearing boxers and a black tee that read: Follow me. I know the way out. Her chic bob swung below her chin in a riot of sleep tousled curls. He was getting over the loss of its length because the hairstyle called attention to her neck. Her elegant, delectable neck. He'd never fancied himself that much of a neck man until she'd come home with her new 'do two weeks ago. 

Her tongue flicked over her lips as if to prolong the flavors after the fork slid through her lips. It had been too long since he'd felt that mouth on his skin. Competing ideas and images bombarded his brain. All starred Ana lavishing her wicked attention all over him. A soft purr reached his ears. Jesus. He didn't need to hear that sound right now. 

Her eyes glazed over with epicurean delight. "This is so good—you're amazing, you know that?" Ana sent him an inquisitive look. "Aren't you going to eat?" 

A lewd answer hovered on his tongue but she spoke before he decided to go with it.

"I wouldn't mind having this again Monday morning. And make sure you don't serve me the same thing two days in a row. That's not gonna fly this year. " 

Sean's competitive streak bristled. Come Monday morning she'd regret her flippant demand. Regret was a misnomer now that he thought about it. She'd have lots of fun next week.

"It's not going to happen, sweetheart." His lurid glance made a deliberate stop at her chest then traveled lower. 

Ana quirked a brow. "You wait and see, sweetheart. Eli's going to come through and my Super Bowl record will remain perfect." 

Oh, Ana was good. Her sneaky jab at the Patriots' record irritated the hell out of him. Hers was a stealthy brand of trash talk, teeming with double entendres. Her little digs would end tomorrow. There was no way the Patriots' season would be blemished. No fucking way. 

Ana set her plate down on the cube while Sean's fork scraped his. Man, that was too easy. "Come on, let me show you what I did last night."

She took him on a tour of the dining room then the guestroom, explaining what she did in designer terms. But she never admitted that yesterday's letdown about her biological mother had inspired her night of covert decorating. He wasn't sure if or how he should bring it up. The other option: let Ana do her soldier-on routine.

"How are you feeling today with everything?"

Ana ironed the crisply tucked coverlet with her hand. "I'm trying not to think about it because if I start I don't think I'll be able to stop." She sounded more resigned than resolute. Time ticked by with little touches and adjustments to the already perfect bed. 

She felt Sean's eyes on her as she repositioned the lamp on the night table. His silence asked for more. "I'm taking a break from it. It's been nothing but go-go-go lately and I just need to come up for air." 

There'd been so much attention on getting things done that this focus on what was missing threatened to be a permanent state of being. The daily checks of e-mail and adoption message boards had become a frustrating habit. One that dead ended in Vancouver Canada. 

"Don't worry, things will settle down after tomorrow." 

She looped an arm around his waist on their way back to the kitchen. "No, it'll be fun to have everybody over. I can't wait for them to see everything."

"They're going to be blown away by what you did." He knew he was and he lived here. Ana had merged streamlined furniture and his love of the beach with her romantic exoticism. Classic formality held hands with exuberant pops of red in a way that was quietly playful. Most of all, their home was so them.

"I couldn't have done it without my favorite, very handsome design assistant." Her saccharine sweet delivery made him leery.

"You mean slave." 

If he never heard the words 'beach inspired color palette', 'furniture' and 'shopping' strung together in a sentence, he'd be a happy man.

"You're still open all day next Saturday, right?"

Uh-oh.

"Yeah?"

"Good. I need some ideas on what to get for your studio and the den. We're only going to look. I promise."

So they were going to do wander around aimlessly? Oh, yeah, that was so much better. 

"What if I say no?"

"I'll just add it to my list—either way you're coming with me. Besides, I can't go without my favorite—"

He let her know what he thought of her list and its odds of happening with one look. "Yeah, yeah. Williams, you've got a long way to go if you think you're being smooth." 

Ana countered with a kiss. "How's that?"

"Still... a ...long way to go." Somehow he managed to make sense while she teased the corners of his mouth.

"Meet me later and maybe I'll change your mind. Enjoy your run. You're really hot when you're all sweaty" 

"Tease."



"What are you doing?"

"You don't know?" He nuzzled the back of her neck. "It hasn't been that long."

"Just give me an hour and I'm all yours."

Sean plucked the pencil out of her hand and tossed it onto the drafting table. "You've been in here all day." His hands reached under her tank top.

"Stop it." Ana picked up the pencil and continued sketching. "Babe, we can do this later—I promise." His low chuckle incensed her while she jerked and twisted.

"But I want you now." He pressed against her back to prove his point. His sinful laugh mocked her efforts to get free, made her aware of the ugly thrill his forcefulness inspired. "That's so sexy, don't stop." 

She tried to reason with him; if he gave her more time she'd have a great head start on the new collection. He pulled up her shirt and unhooked her bra.

"You need to take a break and chill out." Sean pressed his bare chest against her back. "That's what you said this morning." 

"Yeah, but—"

"And I need to be inside you." His warm hand snuck under her bra to cover her breast. "Do I have to remind you how much you like it?" 

"Sean—"

"Shh. You think too much. Just feel." His other hand slid down her stomach, inside her shorts. The pencil clunked on to the drafting table. He made a rumbling sound of approval as he cupped her. Ana's need to connect surpassed her need to create. 

"Love finding you like this." His long fingers traced her damp slit to emphasize his point. "I missed this."

Me too. The words got lost in a hissed-in breath while he fondled her. How could she speak words when he touched her like that? Ana canted her hips and sent his fingers just where she craved them. Ah, yes. 

"Take off your clothes." There was something dark and phantomlike in having those commands come from an unseen face. He made the task harder by teasing her, caressing her. "Good girl," he said before he pushed her down. Ana gripped the edges of the table as he nudged her feet apart. 

Sean filled her mind with deliciously vulgar accounts of what he wanted when he won their bet. She saw them in all the rooms he intended to take her, in all the ways he insisted she would. Every day. Every night. Ana whispered fantasies of her own while his hands and mouth worked their way down her back. It took every bit of effort to keep her knees straight while his tongue found its mark—again and again. God, he was so good at this. "I want to wake up like this. All week." 




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 10



The moan he pressed into her moist flesh made her shiver. "Like this?" His tongue swept over her. Pleasure coursed through her blood like a livewire, crackling along her veins. Even the feel of his breath on her skin excited her. "Or this?" 

"Both."

"So greedy." Then he showed her how both felt, swipe after suckle after swipe. "Mmm...so sweet." The tracing paper rustled, flicking her breasts as she sagged onto the table. She saw him shove down his jeans through half-lidded eyes. The look they shared when he caught her staring at his cock made her burn with anticipation. Then Sean showed her what it was like to really burn when he brushed his shaft back and forth between her folds. 

"Do that again," came Sean's rough demand when she rocked in time with him. He gripped her hip and shoulder, controlling her while the head trailed over her clit and inched lower. Ana cried out at that first hard probing. He took his time pushing every inch into her. She felt every contour, every ridge of his relentless penetration. 

"Remember how much you love this?" His gruff voice rolled through her like smoke and permeated the darkest corners of her mind. 

He felt warm and heavy inside her. "Yes." 

She rolled her hips so her sheath twisted along his length in corkscrew spirals. Sean swore and caught her hips in bruising grip. His withdrawal came with the same measured pace. For a girl who didn't like surprises Ana loved how Sean easily switched from aggressive to tender during sex. Her eyes watered. The slow friction felt every bit as good as his entry. She whimpered in pleasure and regret when just the tip of him remained within her. She wanted him back. Deep. His fingers skated down her spine then flew back to her hip when she bucked. "Sean."

"What?" 

She knew why he waited, knew he wouldn't move until she begged him to. The battle between rebellion and surrender created the most decadent ache. 

Sean withdrew a fraction. 

"Please. I need it."

"What? Tell me."

Ana didn't disappoint him. There was freedom in submitting to something bigger than herself, in letting it consume her. She opened her mouth to speak again but Sean stole her words with one merciless thrust after another. This was the man who would break down any barrier until they were linked. Every move he made within her affirmed it. She pushed off the table to meet each inward drive. His hand curled into her hair, tugged her head back as he leaned over her. The ride was wild, demanding and too good to last. They slumped over the table, their energy spent. 

"Now I kinda hope you win the bet." 

Sean rubbed his cheek against her hair and pressed a smile to her temple. 

* * * * *

Sunday morning came with the excitement of welcoming their loved ones into their home. Ana tucked the flowers Gwen brought into a vase. She looked out the kitchen window and saw the Cobra cruise up the driveway before the engine's low rumble announced its arrival. 

"Your folks are here." 

Dominic Brennan skipped out to the passenger side and opened the door for his bride of forty years. His excitement over that car hadn't faded since the day Duncan and Sean handed him the keys. Don and Jack Williams practically turned the same age when they peeked out the window to investigate but Sharon found Dodger way more interesting.

"Holy sh—"

"Jack!" Gwen's brown eyes lasered him with the look all teenagers made their mother's perfect. She turned to Don for reinforcement. His wry expression was more for Gwen's benefit than for Jack's censure. 

Hugs, handshakes and kisses started in the foyer. Housewarming gifts were set on the kitchen counter before the house tour began. There was pride in hearing the superlatives, in seeing their family take in the transformation of all the rooms they'd seen in various stages of chaos. Their home was a proclamation of two lives joined to create something new and whole onto itself. 

"Ana, this is beautiful," said Gwen of the antique china displayed in the dining room's two armoires. The set was a family heirloom passed down to her mother. Gwen traced the ornate carvings in the wood. "Where did you buy these?" 

"At a flea market. Can you believe we got those for two hundred dollars?"

Clodagh turned to Ana. "Both?"

"You should've seen her talk the guy down," Sean said with disbelief that held a tinge of embarrassment. Ana glared at him. 

"We just sanded them down and painted them." She'd chosen the Chinese red not only because it made the delicate collection of dishes stand out; it was Sean's favorite color. "Maybe we can do Thanksgiving here this year." 

Gwen put her arm around Ana's waist, her brown eyes lit up as she looked to Clodagh. "No long hours in the kitchen? I like the sound of that!" 

They all talked their way to the kitchen, making plans for the big feast. The men carried the sports talk outside when Jack asked Dominic about his "sweet ride". The rumor that Sean had helped to restore it cemented his cool status in Jack's eyes. At first Ana didn't think much of it when Sean and her father didn't return. But the minutes dragged on and she found her attention shifting from the buoyant chatter around the island to the vigil she kept on the driveway. From here it looked like they were taking turns at a monologue. An uneasy curiosity rose up. What was taking them so long? They walked into the kitchen after an eternity, Ana scanned their faces for clues but found none. She filed it in the back of her mind to stay on the lookout for a moment when she could take one of them aside.

"I was telling Ana we should have her help us decorate," Clodagh told Sean.

"Just don't complain when she makes you shop all day long." Sean went on to tell them about their trips to flea markets where she'd turned into a furniture predator. "All you have to say is 'furniture' and she'll be up and ready by five."

Ana cut her eyes at him then turned back to Gwen and Clodagh. "Everybody knows you've got to get an early move to catch all the good deals."

But Sean wasn't done. He told them about the endless minutes standing in one Home Depot aisle while Ana read every light bulb box to find the best color temperature. "The guy who was helping us hadn't heard of that either. So what does Ana do?" He looked at her. "Tell 'em." 

He was mostly wrong if he thought she'd get embarrassed telling everyone how she morphed into a "lighting professor". Home Depot should thank her for the invaluable knowledge she'd imparted to their employee. But Sean had everyone besides Jack chuckling by the time she'd explained her side of things. 

"So much for being my favorite design assistant."

"Aww." He kissed the top her head.

Jack cracked an imaginary whip in Sean's direction with a whoosh. Laughter erupted again.

Ana went over to stand next to Jack, who stood taller than he did over Thanksgiving. "It's good to know who's really on my side. You just wait a few years, Jack. You'll see what it's like."

A sly grin played across Sharon's face. "Maybe it won't be that long." 

Jack replied with a look of disgust.

By the time Stacy arrived a half hour later the scent of barbeque spices drifted off the grill. The afternoon passed with rowdy outbursts, tense silences and good food. Duncan brought Grams and Grandpa Sean to round out the group. Stacy and Sharon seemed to watch Duncan as much they did the game.

The final quarter was epic. New York scored the first touchdown. New England answered and took a four point lead into the last two minutes. New York advanced to the twenty-four yard line with a minute to go. The next four plays put the Patriots' perfect season in peril. Thirty seconds left. History and every sports cliché known to man was in Eli Manning's hands. The ball flew into the New England end zone. Only the TV spoke. 

"It's over! It's over! Oh. My. God!"

"They can come back!"

"Brady can do it."

Silence.

The football sailed towards the Giants' end zone and fell out of reach. Jubilant screams ricocheted around the living room. 

Stacy giggled when her high-five hit the air instead of Ana's hand. "You did it again," she said and took another swig of her wine cooler. "If I was Gisele I'd be consoling Tom all night long."

Grams chuckled; the only one in her family able to make sound. "He is a fine looking one." Grandpa Sean wasn't amused.

The rest of the Brennan clan recovered just in time to see coach Belichick scurry off of the field.

Don Williams shook his head. "Un-believable! You'd think he didn't know there was a fifty percent chance of this happening."

The Williams ate and drank in celebration while the Brennans ate and drank because there was nothing to celebrate. Ana loaded another tray full of snacks and watched them carry on in the living room. This was why she'd moved across the country. Her family. Her home. It was much bigger than she'd hoped for back then. Sean made his way to her holding several bottles. My family. My home. 

"Quit smirking and hand it over."

Instead of correcting his assumption, she pushed the folded note across the counter. "I added some stuff you're very good at, you're going to like it."

"Smooth," he teased then opened the yellow paper. 

Ana patted his butt. "I'm learning from the master."

"You're going to kill me." 

"See? I have confidence in you—but what a way to go, eh? " She tore up his list and threw it in the trash.

"Yeah, don't rub it in or anything."

* * * * * 

March, 2008. 

Ana picked up the fashion magazine even though she already had a copy featuring Darien Scott on the cover. She flipped the pages until she got to the cover credits. The elation at seeing her name at the end of the list still hadn't faded. She paid for the bottles of water and merged into the stream of passengers and rolling luggage.

She hadn't been on a plane since her trip to New York last September. At the time she'd thought the meeting with the Bergman retail team to be spectacularly anti-climactic. When Camille Pratt invited Ana to lunch she wrote it off as the mandatory kindness one got after essentially being told "we think your stuff sucks"—at least that's how her ego took it. Ana expected the golden brush-off while they ate alongside a busy Manhattan side walk. What she got was a restrained cheerleader in a business suit and stilettos. "The fact that the buyers wanted to meet with you is validation of your talent." Those words wouldn't have fueled Ana's determination had they come from someone else. "Try other stores. Trendy boutiques would be a fine place to start, perhaps you'll let it slip that Bergman was interested," Camille said with a cunning smile.

So instead of moping on a plane for six hours, Ana drew inspiration from Sean's can-do spirit and Simon's make-the-system-work-for-you strategies. She plotted, made phone calls and met store managers until she found a boutique on Hollywood's trendy Robertson Boulevard to carry her jewelry. Then she launched a website and gave Darien several pieces to wear during public appearances and in the band's videos. 

The advertising ploy paid off. 

Sales were steady until fans and fashionistas had to know where Darien got those necklaces and earrings. Now vendors were calling her—Bergman New York was one of them. The next meeting would be different. Ana's belief in her creations was boosted by sales figures and good buzz. Most of all she had the conviction that Bergman wasn't the only avenue available to make this new venture a success. Maybe in time she could afford to move on from Design Haus.

There was another trip to New York in the works but this one to Maui was a well earned respite, especially for Sean. 

Ana slowed her steps when she saw a paperback novel in Sean's seat while her tote guarded its neighbor. She looked on from the corner with pride. Sean stood at the end of the aisle in the middle of two spring breakers while another pointed his phone at them. He deserved to bask in the moment; after all it had been ten years in the making. It was all thanks to that stripped down little song she'd fallen in love to almost two years ago. 

When scenes like this one first occurred after the Exit Twenty-Nine single and video debuted, Sean admitted the attention would've gone straight to his ego had it happened in his twenties. Now he enjoyed his taste of fame for what it was and joked that he had about ten minutes left. Ana was happy for him because the accolades were hard earned, because the law student who almost had a record deal no longer had that lingering "what if". 

These days he focused on seizing the momentum from his work on Letters from the Road to establish himself as a writer / producer. Sometimes Ana worried about his workload because he did all this while still in legal. But he was happy. However, the time might come when he'd have to make a permanent trade: days at the desk for days turning sounds into music, words into lyrics. She'd look after him to make sure he didn't burn himself out. That's why she'd suggested they get away for a few days.

The subtle change of his expression when he spotted her reached farther than words. He never looked at anyone that way.

Sean opened his hand. "Hand it over." 

"I promise I won't check e-mail the whole time we're there."

He didn't budge. 

"What if you check it once a day and let me know?"

"Having you pester me all day long isn't my idea of a vacation." 

Ana pursed her lips. Sean's fingers called for compliance. At one time she believed having a man—anyone—look after her meant compromising too much of her independence. But while navigating the overlapping spaces between couple and individual, Ana found herself freer, bolder to be herself, encouraged to pursue the things she wanted. She surrendered the Blackberry and let the fun and relaxation they planned for the next five days seep in. 



If this trip was supposed to be a stress reliever, it sure hadn't started that way judging from the rattling sounds that came from the bathroom. 

"What's wrong?"

Ana continued digging in her make-up bag. "I can't find my pills. I know I put them in here!" Finally, she looked at him. "Did you bring condoms?"

He shook his head. "I'll get some in the morning," he said though the point was moot. Ana continued fretting, zipping and unzipping. She wouldn't sleep until she found those pills. Hell, if it were possible she'd fly back home to track them down. He grabbed the bag.

"A baby isn't the end of the world."

"Gee, Irish, you sure know how to make a girl feel better." It was almost two am what did she expect? "Why are you getting all worked up over something that hasn't even happened?"

"Because a baby is a big deal. Don't think because my dad's been cool about us living together that he won't kick your ass and mine if I go home with a bun in the oven."

He snorted and shook his head. "Your dad?" The fact that she only had on a shirt and panties didn't detract from her exasperated look but he saw more. He dropped the bag on the counter. "Come here." Ana walked into his arms. "Even though we're going to fuck like crazy while we're here, it doesn't mean you'll get pregnant. And no, I wouldn't freak out if you did." He touched the tip of her nose. "I know how that mind works."

"It's not that," she said quietly. "We have so much going on. I just want to enjoy us being together—just the two of us, a little while longer."

"Me too."

"And then I think about our baby...and I want that too. But I don't want it to feel like...pressure when it happens." 

The way her voice and expression softened when she said "our baby" filled him with a mix of love for this woman and longing for the future they'd have together. Whenever he was sure he'd committed his entire heart to her, Ana showed him there was more for her to take.

Sean brushed back her hair. "No matter how our kid gets here, he or she will be very much wanted. Okay?"

Ana nodded and stayed in his embrace while she reached an arm into her handbag, calmer this time. Out came a thin card with rows of pills attached. 

"And I was just about to call 911."

She sent him "the look". "Very funny." 

"You're so cute when you're pissed," he said before he nuzzled her neck. 

Ana smoothed the side of his face. "Our children will be so lucky to have you as their father." 

Sean, who'd been quick with words from the time he'd learned to speak, found he had none. So he put everything in his kiss, in the way he reached for her. He held her until the weight of their travel and the late hour left his bones. 

"I thought you were tired," Ana whispered. Her fingers sliced through the hair above his nape. She took her time to follow the dips and rises of the strands because the simple act brought her pleasure. And that knowledge sent pin pricks of arousal over his skin.

His hands followed the curve of her backside and drew her up into him. He studied her face. "Are you?"

The corner of her mouth curled upwards before she voiced her answer. Her kiss was a soft brush of lips, innocent and sweet. Sweetness gave way to something more ardent when he opened his mouth for her. Her taste swept through him, made him answer the slow glide of her tongue with his own. He heard a moan but didn't know who made the sound; he didn't care. What he needed was the feel of her skin against his, to know he pleased her as much as she pleased him. She writhed against his fingers when he reached inside her panties. Sean broke the kiss and molded his palm over her center again and again. He felt warm, moist flesh and nothing else.

"You're just full of surprises."

"I take it you approve."

"Of this?" he asked as his fingers neared her opening. "Always." 

He hoisted her up onto the vanity, pulled aside her panties and put his eager mouth on her. Ana's nails scored his scalp as he licked. The sensation kept him sane while she bucked and cried out. Damn. The taste of her earthy musk made him want to bury himself in her heat until she screamed. 

"Sean." 

He knew what that note in her voice meant even if his fingers weren't being clenched within her sex. "Go with it, sweetheart."

Ana wanted to but not without Sean inside her. It wasn't the same. She told him so and pulled at his shirt, forcing him to stop. His belt clattered on the tile; their clothes fell away. He grasped her knees and pulled her to the counter's edge. "I love you," she said as she opened for him, inviting him to her. Her breath caught when he fed her the first inches of his shaft. Ana fell back and bumped her head against the mirror. It barely registered against the sensation of being stretched and filled. "More...need you."

Sean needed the bed. He could love her there the way he wanted. He wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her off the vanity.

"Wha—Ohmigod!" Ana's voice cracked with sweet hurt as her weight bore down on his entire length. 

"I know." 

Every nerve shook from the effort to remain still while he let her adjust to the swift impalement. With no barrier between them he felt everything in how Ana enveloped him. Soft. Humid. Pressure. Each step he took caused him to shift deep inside her, made her bury breathy sounds into his neck. 

They fell onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, kissing, hands searching, skin covering skin. Love came in broken phrases and unsaid words. Sean fought for a slow, deliberate pace. He had to feel every sensation and catch every expression that crossed her face when he pushed in, when he eased out. He wanted Ana to feel him and see him too. Ana moved beneath him, with him, pulled him down on to her as though she had to burrow closer still. 

Somehow the slow cadence wasn't fast enough—and then fast wasn't fast enough. Up and up they went, reaching higher, straining together. The mattress protested. Sean tried to warn her how close he was, how good it already felt but Ana drank his desperate whispers. He fisted the sheets and slammed his eyes shut, helpless as they plummeted into the endless free fall. Her fingertips clutched his damp back, making sure he wrung out every bit of pleasure within her before he collapsed. 




Kismet or Happenstance? Ch. 10



They filtered back to something close to normal one breath at a time. Even nestled on the pillow, Sean's head felt like a brick, his limbs were boneless. He shifted, trying to spare Ana his weight but sank back onto her. He moved again but her arms and legs folded around him. "Stay." 

"Too heavy."

"Uh-uhn."

Sean pressed the smile her stubbornness caused to her cheek and lifted his head. He caught her face in his hands. He took in her soft, sleepy eyes and her lips, reddened from his kisses. He put that flush of pleasure on her skin. His pride soared. He reached to touch the curls draped across the pillow. To think there was a time when he wondered if he'd find love to be too quiet. But sharing his life with Ana was his greatest adventure. She grounded him and expanded his world at once. He opened his mouth just as she turned her head to kiss the inside of his hand. Marry me. 

But he had no a ring, had no special moment planned. Ana deserved both.

"What?"

"I love you." Somehow those words fell short.

Ana touched her mouth to his shoulder, his neck, and his jaw before she echoed his words. Then she found his mouth. They were still kissing when he rolled over with her. He dragged the sheet over them and relaxed while he stroked her back. They fell asleep perfectly exhausted in each other's arms. 

* * * * * *

Ana and Sean rented a Jeep and spent half a day a day exploring the island's unique sights, sounds and tastes along the winding Hanna highway. Balmy breezes and sunshine teased their faces. The road lead them along rainforests and ocean views while sharp turns and one lane bridges added another kind of drama. They stopped to snap pictures of the gorgeous landscape then drove on to snorkel at a black sand beach. Other days they drifted into markets where conversations in the native tongue sounded more like song than language. 

The subtle scent of nature was everywhere and hard to miss especially on the afternoon they hiked through a forest of bamboo. Curved paths led to a series of waterfalls with heights for the dare devils and the more cautious thrill seekers in the tour group. They started at the tallest descent before they worked their way down. Every leap off the rocks was a rush that had to be repeated. For Sean, the sight of Ana swinging through the air, squealing with delight before she let go of the rope was as fun as doing it himself. 

They splashed around and laughed like children in the dark pools nestled within the jungle of trees and birdsongs. Then they snuck off to a secluded spot and made love under a banyan tree—Ana's idea, one she had no trouble convincing him to try after she knelt at his feet. The next night they attended a luau and got swept away in the sensuality of the ancient dance. They never made it to the bed when they returned to their rented cottage. 

But all the things they'd seen and done in this paradise didn't compare to the splendor of watching the sunset from Haleakala Mountain. Though sunrise was just as spectacular, there was less of a crowd at this hour. 

Ana stood still in front of Sean, her fingers glued to his wrists while he looped his arms below her sweater. Amber clouds stretched out before them in a sea of undulating waves. They were so close it seemed like everyone on the mountain could walk out and touch the sun. A gentle applause broke out as the sun disappeared beneath the clouds and set the sky in a fiery glow. The shiver that ran down Ana's arm had little to do with the crisp, chilly air.

"I'll never forget this," she whispered so as not to disturb the moment's reverence. 

Sean's cheek brushed hers; he sounded as solemn as she did when he said, "Me neither."

A mix of euphoria and adrenaline hit his system. Instinct took over. Sean turned Ana to face him. 

"Marry me." The words were out when he realized that it sounded like a demand and not a proposal. "Will you marry me, Ana?" He should have done it on bended knee; on his way down he remembered...no ring. 

Dammit. This was the most important moment in their lives and he was botching it up.

"I-I don't have your ring yet...."

Ana reached for Sean's hands as he stood up. "It's you I'm marrying, not some piece of jewelry." 

"Is that a yes?"

That flicker of vulnerability in those blue eyes she adored made the first happy tears fall.

"Yes! Yes!" She wrapped her arms around his neck tight as he lifted her off the ground. This moment was a million times more glorious than the one she just witnessed, better than her daydreams ever conjured. 

Applause broke out again. 

Sean and Ana found they had an audience of smiling and curious faces. Members of their tour group offered congratulations and took pictures so the newly engaged couple had a record of their special moment. Thousands of stars dotted the sky, becoming brighter with every passing second as though Mother Nature had gradually turned on the light inside them.

They hardly slept that night. 

* * * * * 

Vacation withdrawal wasn't an option when they'd been sitting on a secret for two days. With their senses revived, Sean and Ana packed their clothes and souvenirs, touched down after sunrise and knocked on Duncan's door. Ana's pent up excitement built to tedious levels during the question / answer session about the trip. She lavished five days worth of back scratches and belly rubs on Dodger in part to soothe herself.

"I have another favor to ask," Sean said in the most offhanded manner. Finally. Ana's gaze locked on Duncan. "What do you say about being my best man?"

Duncan searched Ana's face for confirmation. The second she nodded, he enveloped Sean in a rough, hearty hug only brothers could share. When it was Ana's turn, he held her like a doll and kissed her cheek. "Welcome to the family!" He picked her up to make it official. "You better marry her quick before she comes to her senses."

"I should have asked you instead," Sean told Dodger who wanted to give and get more love. 

They chatted with Duncan over celebratory bowls of Cheerios and pulled out the digital camera. They told him about the fun detour they'd taken thanks to four stubborn cows in the picture. 

It wasn't until mid-morning that Duncan walked them to the driveway where another round of hugs and congratulations took place. 

"It's good seeing you this happy," Duncan said as he clapped Sean's back. His eyes glinted with a mix of humor and seriousness when he turned to Ana. "The pressure's going to be on you two to have the first boy."

"We've got to practice first—" Sean quipped and sent Ana a meaningful look. "—a lot." 

The harder Ana tried not to blush, the less it worked. In the end, Ana embraced her embarrassment and hugged her future brother goodbye. But she wouldn't let Sean get away with teasing her. "Lucky for you, I'm a good teacher." 

"Oh, yeah," said Duncan, "you've met your match



Ana relived the past days again, this time during a three-way call with Sasha and Michelle. She delivered her happy news to her dad and Gwen after she'd left messages for her girls to call back for a phone conference. She couldn't bear to tell them any different. It was as close as to how it she'd have told them had they all still been living in the same zip code. 

Sasha was the first to speak. "See? I told you he was going to propose!" she told Michelle. Sasha had taken Michelle's spot as love's head cheerleader. 

"Were you shocked?" Michelle asked.

"I didn't think it would happen this soon."

"You have to promise us one thing," Sasha demanded.

"What?"

"No fugly bridesmaids dresses!" 

They laughed and plotted until Ana wished she could yank her friends through the phone and into her den. It wasn't until she'd hung up that Ana remembered email. She turned on the computer and checked the messages that came in since she handed off her Blackberry. 

"Sean! Sean!"

The crack in Ana's voice sent chills down his spine. Sean bolted down the hallway; Dodger followed with his tail drooped. He found her standing in the middle of the den. "Baby, what is it?" he asked as he checked her over. She was trembling when he pulled her to him. "What's wrong?"

"It's her." The words were more breath than sound. 

He followed her gaze to the computer screen.

"She gave me her phone number," Ana whispered into his shirt. Her voice carried three years of questions, dead ends and hope. Sean rocked her in his arms while relief, joy and shock fell down her cheeks. He felt all those things with her, felt grateful that he was here for her. 

"Do you think I should wait to call her?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I feel like I'm going to throw up."

Sean sat and placed her on his lap. He rubbed her back, arms and shoulders, soothing her as if she were a child. "Better?"

The gust of nerves in her stomach and the shaky feeling hadn't subsided but having him here made it better so Ana nodded a half-truth. But Sean knew her too well to buy it. 

"Come here."

She settled onto his chest and as though he read her mind he asked, "Do you want me to dial the number?"

She held his hand and he never let go while she spoke to Lisa Dunham.

* * * * *

July 2008

Ana checked the contents of the picnic basket again and let the lid drop. "All set." 

The destination was familiar. They drove out to the beach whenever they wanted a break or needed to reconnect. Sometimes they took off for no reason other than the beach itself. But today was special. It was two years ago that Ana got lost in traffic and ended up where she was meant to be all along.

When they weren't playing the canine version of tag 'n run across the sand, Sean and Ana held hands while the water lapped at their feet. Their plan: find a good spot, enjoy a simple feast and unwind before their night on the town. The softened volume on the medley of voices, music and laughter around them marked the end of the afternoon. The energy and motion on the sand got calmer, the waves grew louder. 

Ana sat on the blanket, her knees drawn up and bracketed by Sean's. She stared at the ring on her left hand. The ring had a timeless elegance; the vivid yellow perfect for a woman who loved whimsy. The diamonds came alive under the sunlight, doing a fiery dance around yellow sapphire. Sean had chosen it because it was her birthstone. Its color always led her back to that sunset on Haleakala...just as he'd hoped. 

She wiggled her fingers, not used to its delicate weight and still in awe of what it meant. While Sean's first proposal was dreamlike and spontaneous, the second one made it all more...real. 

There was no fancy restaurant or choreographed program. It was the two of them making a pledge for everyday and it would take them into the future. While that sunset in Maui had been etched in her memory, Ana cherished the fact that she only had to step on her porch to relive that moment when Sean pulled the ring from under his place mat and slid his promises down her finger. 

Sean kissed her shoulder. "We better head out." He didn't sound convinced, neither did she when she said, "Yeah." Ana laced her fingers around his to keep him in place. 

They drew out every second to make it last until the next visit. Her mind skipped ahead to the days they'd each hold onto their toddler's hand and watch tiny feet touch the ocean for the first time. Maybe they'd have a boy first. 

But someone would be missing. Always. 

Bittersweet realization washed over her. 

"What is it?"

"I wish she were here—" She pressed her palm to her wet nose. "—to see everything."

"I know."

Sean molded his body to hers and laid his right hand above her heartbeat. It was a gentle reminder her of what she knew, one that comforted her. Ana twisted around and squeezed his thigh to let him know she understood. They packed up the remnants of their picnic and coaxed Dodger onto his leash. A soft breeze blew, nudging Ana's fingers into Sean's outstretched hand just as she reached out to take it. It felt like a familiar touch and a blessing. She paused to draw in every nuance of that feeling before she looked up at him. 

He touched the tip of her nose then kissed her dimple. "Ready?"

"Yes, let's go home."