Off Limits Collection

by Jane Anthony

  “Go ahead and cut out for the day,” AJ said, as I was pushing a broom around the floor, sweeping up metal and debris into neat piles.

  “You sure, man? I can stick around and help you clean up some more.”

  “It’s cool, man, go ahead. Besides, if you’re late for dinner, my sister will kill you.” He smiled and rotated his finger next to the side of his head, insinuating Jill was a little crazy. Seemed I had a thing for crazy.

  “All right, dude. I’ll see ya later.” AJ lifted his hand up in a slight two-finger wave as I headed out the door.

  Jillian crept into my thoughts the whole car ride home. There was something about her I couldn’t get out of my head. The way her body fit mine perfectly when we hugged that morning. Her crisp fruity scent just daring me to take a bite to see if her skin tasted just as sweet. Her big doe eyes and tiny mouth made her appear innocent, but her body looked like it was made for sin.

  Living in this dormitory sucked, but I hadn’t planned to stick around, and it was non-committal. I hoped the communal bathroom was available so I could take a cold shower and suppress the half hard-on I’d been living with all day. There was no way I was walking into the Morello house sporting wood like a sex-obsessed teenager.

  The room I rented was tiny. It didn't fit more than a bed, a dresser, and a lounge chair, but that was fine with me. I didn't need a lot. I stripped my dirty clothes off, kicking them into the corner to worry about later. Right then, I only had one thing on my mind — getting myself presentable and getting back to the only place I ever really felt at home.

  Dinner party etiquette rules weren’t part of my skill-set. My meals most nights consisted of reheated pizza or Cup O’Noodles. I watched an old movie on cable once. The man in the black and white film was telling his kid that you never show up at a girl’s house empty handed. Seemed like good advice, so I opted to stop at the liquor store at the last minute to grab a bottle of wine.

  The door to Jill and AJ's house was open inside, so I knocked lightly on the frame of the screen. “Come in!” Jillian called from inside. I opened the door and was immediately flooded with memories of the past.

  Their house hadn’t changed. The school photos of AJ and Jill still adorned all the walls in the family room, with the wedding photo of Mr. and Mrs. Morello hung strategically in the center. The floral sofa and lace curtains were exactly the way I remembered them.

  I followed the worn hardwood floors to the kitchen where Jillian was standing at the counter. Long gone were the tee-shirt and jeans she’d worn at work. Cut-off denim shorts hugged her ass just right. Slender legs were begging to be wrapped around someone, preferably me, and her feet were bare. The neat ponytail swaying behind her head exposed a small star tattoo on the back of her neck. I wanted to press my lips against it, sink my teeth into the small black dollop of ink marring her creamy skin.

  “Hey, Jame!” When she turned around to greet me, I couldn’t help but grin at her vintage Judas Priest tee. Cut tank top style, the neck hung off one shoulder. The word Exciter leapt off the faded fabric. A clever shirt, indeed. She not only excited me, she lit me on fire. She came over and stood on her tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek. I bent down to match her height, inhaling her sweet fragrance as she came close. “Wine, huh? Ohh la la!” she joked, taking the bottle from my hand.

  “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d like. This was what the guy at the store suggested.”

  She read the bottle and placed it on the set dinner table. “I’m sure it's great, thank you. You didn’t have to do that, though; we have plenty of beer in the fridge.” She grabbed a half empty bottle of Bud from where she was standing at the counter and pressed it against her lips, tipping her head back to take a long sip. I watched her throat move as she swallowed the cold brew, her tongue slipping between her lips to lick off some residual foam as the bottle moved away from them. I marveled at the fact that every move this woman made was unintentionally seductive. She had no idea what she was doing to me. “You want one? Help yourself.”

  I walked over to the fridge to grab a beer, trying to push from my mind all the various ways I’d love to help myself to whatever she had to offer. “Thanks. Smells delicious in here. I’m secretly thrilled you invited me to dinner. I can’t remember the last time I had a good home-cooked meal.” I leaned against the counter across from her and crossed my legs at the ankles.

  “Well, your secret is safe with me.” She winked. “Besides, don’t go thanking me until after you’ve eaten it. Home cooking I can do, good home cooking …” She waved her outstretched hand from side to side in a “so-so” manner as she took another swig of her beer.

  “Don’t let Jill fool you. She’s a great cook,” AJ said, walking into the kitchen. Drops of water clung to his hair as if he’d just finished showering. “Hey, man, what’s up?” He tipped his chin in greeting, then opened the fridge and grabbed a beer.

  “’Sup,” I said, repeating the salutation.

  “Jeez you two, wanna take it down a notch? You’re so loud, I’m getting a headache,” Jill joked.

  AJ snorted, falling into one of the chairs at the round kitchen table. He sat hunched over, a beer resting between his thick arms looking incredibly beaten down by life. These last few years have hardened him. He was short for a dude. Hell, I'd argue that I was short for a dude. I topped out at five-foot-eleven, and he looked up to me. But small stature aside, he was built like a bear. Powerful, dense, and dark. If he was anything like he was five years ago, his loyalty ran deep, right down to the bone, but AJ was not a guy you wanted to get on the wrong side of.

  I pushed myself off the counter to walk across the kitchen. “You need help with anything?”

  “Nope, I’m good. The lasagna is resting; I’m just heating up some garlic bread. Have a seat.” Jillian motioned to the table, and I grabbed the nearest chair.

  When she bent over to pull the bread out of the oven, it was almost painful for me not to look. Her ass was like the sun. If I stared straight at it, I’d probably cry. Instead, I leaned forward on the table and turned my attention to AJ. “You still playing, man?”

  He rubbed his neck and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, I play when I can. Set’s still set up in the garage. You?”

  “Every now and then. I still love it but haven’t had a lot of chances to play these days.” That was a lie. I’d barely touched a guitar since the day I left, but I wasn’t about to get into the messy details of that right now.

  “I picked up an old Stratocaster at a yard sale a few years ago. Maybe after dinner, we’ll head back for old time’s sake.” AJ tipped his beer back and drained it. Without even having to ask, Jillian came back to the table with a fresh one for him.

  “You good?” she asked, pointing in my direction.

  “Yeah, I’m cool. Thanks.” With a nod, she turned toward the counter, picking up the dish of food and bringing it back to the table. She grabbed the bread next and set it in the center, before peeling back the tinfoil cutting the lasagna into squares, serving AJ first.

  “Gimme your plate, Jame,” she said with an upturned palm.

  “Jill, sit down.” I rose from the table and gingerly plucked the spatula from her hand. She quirked her brow at me as I took her plate and set a big serving on top of it before serving myself. The look on her face was one that told me she was used to this treatment. It was obvious that she’d fallen into the role of caretaker so absolutely that it was second nature at this point.

  I grabbed two beers from the fridge, popped the tops, and set one in front of her before settling down in my seat again. “This looks amazing. Thank you.”

  Chapter Four

  JILLIAN

  “Jill, you really out did yourself.” AJ sat back in his chair, rubbing his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Yeah, Jill, that was the best meal I’ve had, probably ever,” Jameson added.

  My chest swelled with pride at the compliments coming from either side of the table. I knew how horribly old-fashioned i
t was, but my inner Italian came out big time watching the men in my life eat. After my mom had got sick, I’d taken it upon myself to prepare the meals for the family. Dad and AJ were working so hard in the shop; I figured it was the least I could do to pick up some slack.

  Even if it was charred to hell, my dad always raved about whatever I made. He’d come home after a hard day and ask, “What’s cookin’ Paula Dean?” He never complained, always happy to come home to a hot meal regardless of what it was. “Aww shucks, guys, you sure know how to make a gal blush.” I batted my eyelashes and curtsied dramatically.

  I started to clear the table but Jameson stopped me. “We got this, Jill. Go take a load off.” He rose from his seat and grabbed some plates from the table. AJ followed suit and carried his plate to the sink, rinsing the leftover sauce down the drain.

  Sitting while the kitchen was being cleaned around me was an alien feeling. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Once everything was packed up and all the dishes were in the sink, I demanded that the guys go out back, insisting I could finish loading the dishwasher myself. Once they were gone, I got to business and finished in no time.

  I could hear the music emanating from the garage from the tiny kitchen window. I shoved my feet into my high tops, stuffing the laces inside like I always did, and made my way out to join the guys in the makeshift studio. The garage reminded me of another life. An old one where the only responsibility I had was keeping up my GPA while still figuring out how to party in the woods with my friends.

  The door was open and the light was casting an eerie glow against the dark backdrop of night. I stopped when I saw Jameson sitting on a stool, one foot on the floor and the other on the support bar with AJ’s old Strat balanced on his knee. Grim determination etched his face as he looked down at the strings he plucked with widespread fingers. He was no Randy Rhoads, but he wasn’t half-bad.

  The lean muscles in his forearm rippled each time he changed his fingering on the frets. When he stopped playing, he used his pick hand to push the hair out of his face and set it behind his ear. The movement was graceful, like the music itself. He turned his head slightly and saw me watching him. A slow smile spread across his face, and my heart began to race. Knowingly, he raised his eyebrows. I swallowed hard, my mouth becoming dry. I was caught. I could either walk down and shake it off, or run into the house and hide like a little girl.

  My feet propelled me forward, and I stepped into the garage. “Sounds good, Tate,” I said, never breaking stride. I felt his eyes searing my skin me as I walked past him and sank down onto the old futon.

  “Got any requests, Jilly?” He licked his lips after he said it, inadvertently drawing attention to his mouth and making me forget that I hated being called Jilly. An intense stab of want rocketed between my legs as I imagined that tongue sliding across my body. I casually crossed my thighs and squeezed, trying to tamp down the sensation to jump off the futon and pull him back down with me. Oh, I had requests, all right. Just not ones I was willing to vocalize.

  “As soon as you guys are done eye fucking each other, we can get started,” AJ barked.

  I tore my gaze from Jameson and saw my brother glaring at him with murderous intent. My presence here was causing a disturbance in the force. I needed to get my libido in check. Jameson was an employee of ours, not my personal plaything.

  Embarrassed at having been called out on my silly crush, I jumped up from the futon. “Whatever, dude, you don’t even know what you’re talking about. I’m going back inside.” My stomach churned with a strange mixture of desire and fear as I ran back to the safety of the house.

  What was wrong with me? I wasn’t the type of girl who chased members of the opposite sex. In high school, I had girlfriends who would drape themselves over any guy who was halfway decent looking and paid them a little attention. They would spend thirty minutes in the backseat of a car, then tell me in gruesome detail the sordid events that went on there. That wasn’t me. I’d fooled around a little but always hit the brakes when my suitor wanted more than I was willing to give, which was pretty much always. This sudden rush of lust was uncharted territory for me.

  Jameson’s presence was akin to washing your eyeglasses with Windex for the first time. You spent your whole life looking through dirty lenses, not even realizing how crisp and bright everything was until the grime was wiped away. The sudden ability to feel my own skin the second he walked into a room was terrifying. I felt drawn to him and I couldn’t explain it. I only hoped it was something that worked itself out before it damaged the renewed friendship between him and AJ. My brother needed Jameson in his life more than I did.

  JAMESON

  The look on AJ’s face when he caught me watching his sister was borderline homicidal. I’d been here less than twenty-four hours and I was already causing problems. When she got up and ran off, my first instinct was to run after her, but I kept myself planted on that stool in an effort to defuse the situation. I opened my mouth to try to melt the icy glare coming from his direction, but he spoke first. “I’m only going to say this one time, Jameson. You are welcome to hang out, and I appreciate your help at the shop, but my sister is off-limits.”

  “AJ, I….” He put his hand up and shook his head, cutting me off.

  “Jillian seems tough, but it’s an act. The last thing she needs is more pain in her life when you pull another disappearing act. I’m working my ass off to pay for her school and get her the hell out of this town. She deserves better.”

  I ground my back teeth and nodded with understanding. He was right. Jillian deserved way better than wasting her life in a greasy old car shop. She deserved way better than me. I had nothing to offer her. I couldn’t let my dick control the cognizant parts of my brain that were well aware of that fact. “Does she know why I left?”

  “No, and she doesn't have to as long as you can keep it in your pants.”

  “Understood.”

  Monday morning, I got to work just in time to see Jillian opening the office for the day. AJ’s warning seared into the back of my mind most of the day yesterday, and I had to remember to play it cool.

  She was still on my mind when I parked my car alongside the building and sauntered into the office. A loud buzz squawked as I entered. The coffee can she was holding slipped out of her hands sending an avalanche of tiny brown pellets all over the floor. “Shit,” she cursed under her breath. “I’m not used to people being here this early.” She crouched down and started scooping the grinds into a pile with her hands.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Here, let me help you.” I grabbed a sheet of paper from the desk and squatted down next to her, pushing the pile onto the paper like a makeshift dustpan. “It's all good.” My gaze shifted from the mess to her. Soulful eyes looked out from under long, dark lashes. A lock of hair had fallen from her ponytail. My hand moved before I had time to stop it, sliding the silky strand between my fingers and tucking it behind her delicate ear. She leaned in, brushing her cheek against my hand. I knew I should pull away, but her skin felt soft under my rough palm and I couldn’t resist the urge to keep touching it.

  “Mornin’.” AJ pushed through the back door of the office, and I abruptly stood, taking the coffee laden sheet of paper with me and dumping it into the nearby trash. Jill looked up at me from the floor. My heart hammered in my chest at the sight of her still on her knees at my feet. She nipped at her bottom lip with her teeth, bringing my focus to her mouth, before rising up from the floor. I couldn't be sure if it was intentional or not, but it was sexy as hell and made everything that much harder. My job, my restraint, and most of all, me.

  “Hey, AJ. I made a mess here with the coffee. Jameson was helping me clean it up. Gimme a few minutes to get this shit together, and I’ll bring you a cup back.”

  “Sure, sis, no worries.” Jillian turned back toward the coffeepot, and AJ walked back into the shop with me on his heels.

  AJ and I worked seamlessly together most of the day, regardles
s of the tension in the air. I had successfully avoided Jillian, which was difficult considering she was just on the other side of the shop door, but it was better to just pretend she wasn’t there than to be in her presence and fight the overwhelming need to feel her smooth skin again. Keeping her off my mind, however, was not as easy. The memory of her face as she looked up from her position on the floor assaulted my mind all morning. Fresh gloss glistened on her lips, and I imagined the various flavors that would await me should I ever be lucky enough to have them pressed against mine.

  As if I conjured her out of thin air, she appeared in the shop. “You guys hungry?” She sauntered over with two individual Tupperware containers full of leftovers. Heat roiled in her eyes as I took the warm container from her tiny hand, suddenly ravenous although lasagna wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

  I’d been around and have had my fair share of women. I wasn’t pulling Charlie Sheen numbers or anything, but I’d done all right. Some of them I was into, others I wasn’t, but none of them made me feel the same energy as Jillian did. It was strange. She didn’t just wreak havoc on my hormones, but she messed with my mind as well. I found myself thinking about the weirdest shit, like what her favorite band or her favorite color was. The sing-song way she said my name would pop into my mind at random times throughout the day. It slid through her teeth like she wanted to hold onto it just a little bit longer before letting it out.

  The temptation of the forbidden fruit was a definite possibility, but I couldn’t help but feel like it was more than that. Only time would tell if that feeling was real or fantasy.