"All of the—” She took a breath and let it out as she stared down at the phone. “Word got out, huh?"
"Yeah.” He shrugged one shoulder and tried to smile. “I have to say ... I thought I'd be a lot happier about being a celebrity."
Sara tossed the phone to the couch and moved closer. One arm slid around his waist, and she pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. “The phone's off and no one can find us. Let's go back to bed."
Reed glanced at Harrison, who raised an eyebrow and smirked. “She's awful interested in getting you na**d again, isn't she?"
He groaned. “Oh God, please go away."
She shrugged and yawned. “Told you that you liked her."
He dragged Sara back down the hallway. “Bed sounds like a great idea..."
"Even if I'm thinking about trying to steal your power again, just to see if I can?"
Reed slapped her ass. “Not until I figure out whether it was that or the bonk on the head that gave me this double vision."
She turned and fingered the top button on the shirt she was wearing, her lips curled into a teasing smile. “Not even in the name of scientific discovery? Though I suppose it wouldn't be a very practical ability if I had to have sex with you right before using it. That could be awkward."
"Especially at professional gatherings,” he agreed. “I want my shirt back."
She undid the first button and pouted. “I saved your ass last night, and you won't even let me borrow a shirt? Some kind of gratitude.” The second button popped open, revealing the smooth curve of a breast.
His mouth started to water, but he kept his expression mild. “I have a rule about clothed women in my apartment."
"Thank God I never came to your study groups.” The third button tugged free, and the shirt slipped off of her right shoulder. He hadn't had time to enjoy looking at her the night before, but now he could admire the pale skin and the adorable freckles that dotted her collarbone and shoulder.
He clucked his tongue. “I'll have you know, my study groups are awesome.” He reached out and yanked playfully at the hem of the shirt, pulling it lower. It slid down to bare her right breast, revealing one tight, pink nipple.
Sara shivered and rocked forward a little. “But how much do you actually learn?"
"A little.” He leaned down and rubbed his stubbled cheek over her breast. “With you na**d in my apartment? Probably not a damned thing."
"Reed—” Her breathless voice and the way it shook just a little shot heat through him, but she slipped her fingers into his hair and tugged his head back. “We—there are things we should talk about. Or at least the most important one."
He straightened and averted his eyes. “What's that, Sara?"
Soft hands framed his face and forced him to look at her. “I never, ever hated you, Reed. I've been jealous of you and I've resented you ... and sometimes I treated you like crap because I wanted to hate you."
He'd guessed as much, so he wasn't surprised by her words. He was surprised by the rush of warmth that flooded him. There was just one thing he didn't understand. “Why?"
"Because...” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I was fifteen the last time my father came to visit me. I didn't even see him again until he showed up here on campus, looking for you. Sometimes I'd look at you, and I'd just see all the reasons I was never good enough."
Reed's heart ached for her, and he slipped his arms around her waist. “I'm sorry, baby. Does it bother you that much?"
Her laugh sounded pained. “He abandoned me. He's ignored me for over a decade. And when he finds out what happened last night ... he's going to come see me. I should tell him to f**k off.” She opened her eyes, and they were filled with tears. “And I don't even know if I can, because for so long I did all this work, all the studying ... everything to be the best just so he'd be interested in me."
He pulled her closer and stroked her hair. “We'll both tell him to f**k off, okay? You can be brilliant and teach for Kendrick, and I'll get a job somewhere in the department. Mopping floors, maybe. And you can forget he even exists."
"No.” Her voice was oddly stern. “No, I'm stupid about the job stuff, Reed. There are places where you could do great things. Just ... not for him. Please, please not for him."
He framed her face with his hands and stroked her cheeks. “I don't want to turn into something you hate, Sara."
"Not possible.” Her smile was self-conscious, but it was real. “Believe me. I've tried."
"Good,” he whispered. “I mean, not good that you tried. Good that you couldn't."
"No, I failed so spectacularly that I accomplished the opposite.” She rocked up onto her toes and brushed her lips against his ear. “Are you going to run if I admit I might love you a little bit?"
His heart beat a painful, staccato rhythm. “Baby, I've been a little bit in love with you since the first time you looked down your snooty little nose at me."
Her cheeks flushed. “I did not do that."
He laughed and kissed her, lingering over the full softness of her lips. “You did, too."
She bit his lower lip and then backed up a step and lifted her hands back to the shirt hanging from her shoulder. “I suppose you still want this back."
Reed smiled and shook his head. “You can keep it. You can keep everything. Now, get back in the bed."
"With a shirt on?” She made a disapproving noise and her fingers freed the last two buttons. The shirt slipped from her shoulders and to the floor, leaving her na**d, standing in his bedroom, and staring at him with a heady mix of nervousness and need.
"Well, there goes that fantasy.” Reed grinned as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him. “Maybe another time."
Sara had never seen anything quite so sexy as Reed grinning at her wearing nothing but flannel pants. Though maybe if he took them off...
She backed toward the bed and delighted in the way he followed, his appreciative gaze sliding over her like a warm caress. “I can put the shirt back on if you want,” she offered when she felt the edge of the bed against her legs.
He was on her in a flash, bending over her. “Like I said ... another time.” He nipped her collarbone. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?"
"N-no.” She closed her eyes and slipped her fingers into his short hair. “You should tell me now."
His cheek rasped over the sensitive skin of her neck. “Should I tell you what I wanted to do the other day when you were all wet?"
It was a stupid question, as far as she was concerned. “Yes. I highly approve of that kind of talking."
He chuckled and drew his tongue from her throat down the middle of her chest as he pushed her back on the bed. “I wanted to peel all those wet layers off of you and stretch you out over your desk. For starters, anyway."
She gasped and guided his lips to the right with fingers curled in his hair. “I would be lying if I said I haven't thought about it once or twice."
"Just once or twice?” He teased her taut nipple with his tongue. “The desk fantasy was one of my favorites. Never thought about dousing you with a bucket of water first, though."
Sara tried to concentrate on his words, but the wet heat of his tongue was far too entrancing. She moaned her approval when he licked across her nipple again, a moan that turned to a low gasp when he drew it between his lips. “Reed—God—"
"Should have thought of it,” he whispered, skipping his mouth up past her jaw to capture her lips again. He kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth, as he pressed his body down against hers.
She could kiss him for hours. He was so damn good at it, giving her just enough to make her heart pound, then pulling back a tiny bit and forcing her to chase him. She whimpered in protest every time he retreated and moaned in pleasure when he deepened the kiss again.
Sara had no idea what happened to Reed's pants, but he was na**d when he eased her legs apart and nudged his h*ps against hers. His long, deft fingers tangled in her hair, tilting it back. He smiled down at her, then bit her chin. “I love you a little bit, too, baby."
"I love you more than a little bit.” She wrapped her legs over his and pushed up, urging him to slide into her. “Maybe even a lot."
"Good.” He wrapped his hand around her hip and groaned a little as he pushed into her in a long, slow thrust. “A lot is good."
Her hands trembled against his shoulders as she struggled for breath. “We should have been doing this a long time ago.” She lifted her legs higher, hooking them over his hips. “A long time ago."
Reed moaned in agreement and thrust his c*ck deeper. “We can make up for lost time now."
"No dumping water over my head—” The words cut off in a moan as he withdrew a tiny bit and thrust back in. “If—if you want me wet—” Another thrust, this one a little deeper. “Fuck, Reed."
"I'll get you in the shower,” he concluded, quickening his pace. “Or do this...” He levered himself up and reached between them to stroke her clit.
Pleasure drove her head back into the quilt, and she struggled against a low cry. She slid her hands to his shoulders and dragged her fingernails lightly down the muscles that flexed with every movement. “More. More, baby."
He bit her shoulder gently and panted against her neck. He slowed his withdrawal from her, but drove back into her even faster.
It felt good, it felt amazing, but the physical sensations were nothing compared to the pleasure of being in Reed's arms, of feeling him shake with need as he drove her closer to the edge. So much time wasted trying to hate him. So much time she could have spent feeling this bliss, feeling this joy....
"I love you,” she whispered, the words somehow far more terrifying without joking qualifiers. She tightened her fingers on his shoulders and said it again, tensed against his response. “I love you."