A Perfect Storm(53)

"I won't." He pulled back, then hammered in again and again.

He watched the bounce of her lush breasts, the hollowing of her flat  belly as she tightened her muscles, the way her face drew taut in harsh  pleasure.

She grabbed fistfuls of the sheet to anchor herself and shouted, her back bowing as she already came again.

That was enough for Spencer. Hell, it was almost too much. He joined her  with a guttural groan, and it was so mind-numbing, he barely had enough  wits left to sprawl beside her, instead of over her.

But that was too much space between them, so he rid himself of the condom and pulled her over to his chest.

His whole body still buzzed, his brain at rest, when Arizona muttered,  "I have to tell you, Spencer, that was way better than cake."

* * *

MARLA PACED THE YARD, wondering if Arizona had spoken code with her  "cake and coffee" nonsense. Were they having sex right now, while she  waited on them?

Was Spencer, even at this moment, doing all those awesomely wonderful, carnal things to Arizona that he once did with her?

She hated herself for being so jealous.

Arizona, damn her, had surprised her with her willingness to help with  the fallen tree. Who did that? What woman willingly put her man in  contact with another woman who openly lusted for him?

But of course she knew: a confident woman.

A woman with no fear of losing the man.

Damn them both.

Things had been going along so nicely before Arizona had shown up. Okay,  so Spencer had been clear that he didn't want involvement.

He looked plenty involved with the little half-breed.

Marla bit her lip, guilty over the unkind thought. But how could she  compete with Arizona's exotic looks? The younger woman had that smooth  as coffee with cream skin, silky dark hair, and sharply contrasting pale  blue eyes.

And her body? God, she detested comparisons. She wasn't a troll, and she  knew it. She had generous curves that men enjoyed, she had no doubts  about that.

But Arizona was sleek and strong and still very shapely as only the  young could be. Not that Marla considered herself old at thirty. But  standing next to Arizona aged her dramatically.

Why didn't the little twit just go away? Spencer would come back to her then, she was sure of it.                       
       
           



       

And if he did … then what? She just didn't know. But she disliked having  her ego trampled, and that's how she felt-trampled into the ground.

Wondering what took them so long, Marla walked across the yard-and the  driver of a passing car, forced to slow around the debris, whistled at  her with bold admiration.

Well. Very nice. That little tease went a long way toward soothing her self-esteem.

So she still had it? Of course she did.

She didn't acknowledge the admirer, but she added a little swing to her step as she went to investigate the tree limb.

Then Spencer's front door opened, and Arizona strolled out and the stupid driver almost hit a tree.

Furious, Marla heard the squealing breaks and glanced up long enough to  witness the driver's admiration. Arizona showed no interest. Spencer  came out right behind her.

They were both smiling.

The car sat there a moment longer, the driver no doubt staring at  Arizona, and then finally drove away. Face tight, eyes burning with  animosity, Marla considered what to do.

Arizona approached. "I'm going to cut off the smaller branches. We'll let Spencer do the heavy work. Sound like a plan?"

Knowing she couldn't keep giving her the cold shoulder, Marla shook her  head. "This was a bad idea. I've rethought it. Maybe I can hire  someone-"

Arizona laughed.

Spencer said nothing. He just walked past them to his garage while pulling on thick gloves.

For only a brief moment the sun came out, sending a blinding reflection off every wet surface. Steam rose around them.

Marla lifted a hand to shield her eyes. With Spencer otherwise occupied,  she shored up her courage and said to Arizona, "When are you leaving?"

As if the question didn't throw her at all, Arizona said, "Not sure yet. Guess it depends on Spencer, you know?"

Such honesty floored Marla. She licked her lips. "So, when he asks you to go, you will?"

"He won't have to ask," Arizona assured her. "I don't hang around where  I'm not welcome." Curious, she met Marla's gaze. "My visit bothers you?"

Considering what Arizona said, Marla shook her head.

A visit.

Not a permanent, move-in situation.

Hmm. Since Arizona sounded sincere, Marla thought she just might be able  to advise her, to perhaps hurry her along on her way. She ventured  forth carefully. "Spencer doesn't want to settle down, you know."

"Yeah, no kidding." Laughing, Arizona took a cloth-covered rubber band  off her wrist and used it to tie back her hair. "He's been as up front  with me as he was with you."

That left Marla floundering.

"You realize that he's still in love with his deceased wife, right?"  With her hair contained, Arizona put her hands on her hips. "He's got  some real issues with that. Even if I split, I'm not sure it'll matter  for you."

Good God, did Arizona feel … sorry for her? Was she trying to prepare her for disappointment?

How dare she?

"I can help him get over the loss!"

"You think so? Well, I'll concede the possibility," Arizona told her  with a flat smile. She studied Marla a moment longer. "Can you be  trusted?"

"With what?"

"The context matters, huh?" Sardonic, Arizona waved a hand. "Never mind.  Trust comes in layers. I get it. I just meant with Spencer, with having  his best interests in mind."

"Of course." Especially since she believed Spencer's best interests were also her own. "Why?"

"I need to know if you'll be working tomorrow morning."

Marla shook her head. "I'm off until midafternoon."

"Okay." Arizona thought about it a little more. "That might work, then. Thanks."

"That's it?" She wasn't going to explain?

"For now, yeah. See, Spencer's coming back, so we should wrap up this  little chat. He wouldn't like us gabbing about him. But honestly, Marla,  when I do bounce-because I'm pretty sure that I'll have to eventually,  maybe even sooner than I'd hoped-I wish you luck with him. But only if  you can make him happy." She leaned in closer, her gaze direct, even  threatening. "If you can't, then stay the hell away from him. Got it?"

Marla leaned back from the intensity of Arizona's stare-and she nodded.

And then Spencer was there, shoving oversize lawn bags toward Marla and  giving Arizona a level look while handing her a bow saw. "Everything  okay?"

"Just dandy."

He watched her a few seconds more. "If you want to cut off the smaller branches at the top there, I'll start on the other end."                       
       
           



       

"Got it."

"You know how to use that?"

She eyed the tool with a smirk. "Put it to the branch and … start sawing? Easy peasy."

Spencer shook his head. "Don't give yourself blisters, okay?"

Irate over their intimate chitchat, Marla loudly shook out a bag. "Shouldn't we get started?"

"We should," Arizona agreed, and she walked away from Spencer-leaving Marla there with him.

The humidity was such that already his shirt stuck to his wide chest and  broad shoulders. "Thank you for doing this." The big branch trembled as  Arizona began sawing away.

"No problem." He surveyed the branch, which was more like a small tree.  "I just hope we can get it all done before we need to take off."

As he went to the largest section of the branch and knelt down to prime the chain saw, Marla followed him.

"She's a peculiar girl."

"I'd say unique." He dismissed her to pull on safety goggles.

Marla touched his shoulder to regain his attention, then couldn't stop  herself from rubbing her fingertips over the sensual feel of soft cotton  covering solid muscles.

No one wore a T-shirt like Spencer. He was so deliciously big and solid and … hard.

Going still, Spencer glanced toward Arizona-who literally paid them no mind at all-then looked up. "What are you doing, Marla?"

He truly had no interest in her. None. Not a spec. He didn't enjoy her attention now, not even to spur Arizona's jealousy.

When she forced herself to be honest, she had to admit that he'd never  been all that interested. Willing on occasion, sure, because she'd  thrown herself at him every chance she got. But he'd never been in hot  pursuit.

Mostly her success at getting into bed with him had been based on  catching him at moments of weakness. Not that a man like him had any  real weakness. But Arizona was right: he still loved his deceased  wife-and she'd played on that.

God, that made her sound awful. Like an opportunist. Like a user.