by Raine Thomas
Her body bowed as the intensity of the orgasm surged through her. It took more than a minute after the throbbing ecstasy subsided before her senses returned enough to register that Will wasn’t rushing to remove his jeans and get his own. She looked down to find him placing more kisses on her inner thighs. Those beautiful eyes once again met hers.
“You taste like heaven,” he said.
Who knew something like that could get her all worked up again?
“And you’re about to do that again,” he vowed.
He evoked responses from her body that she’d never known were possible. By the time he finally removed his clothes and rolled on the condom he had in his wallet, she’d experienced more pleasure at his hands than in all of her other sexual encounters combined.
And she hadn’t done a thing.
She might have felt guilty about that, but when he finally took her it was with such desperation that he’d clearly been doing everything within his power to contain himself until that moment. She found that so hot that she climaxed again while he was inside her. That was all he needed to go over the edge himself.
Holding him during that moment brought her another kind of pleasure…one she dared not examine too closely.
Sex only, she told herself.
And pretended to believe it.
Chapter Nineteen
“Will, you’ve done so much for me today,” May said. “Won’t you at least allow me to feed you dinner in repayment?”
Seeing Jasmine stiffen in her spot on the sofa watching an episode of House of Archer on Hulu, he almost said no. He had pushed things just by showing up there that afternoon. She made it clear she wasn’t ready for a relationship.
Well, she wasn’t ready for anything beyond a sexual relationship.
That proposition had been spontaneous on his part. Her initial reaction to him being there told him how serious she was about not pursuing a relationship with him. Because one of those reasons was Katie, he hadn’t had it in him to challenge that. But when she emerged from the bathroom in her thin bathrobe smelling as irresistible as she did, how was he supposed to control himself?
He would count his blessings that she at least agreed to the sex. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d been fantasizing about it for days.
And her response to him…good God.
But revisiting all of that with May staring at him was just weird, so he said, “That sounds great. Thanks.”
“I’m so glad,” May said. “You won’t be sorry. Our father taught us both how to make a mean stir fry.”
Jasmine had mentioned before that her father was Chinese. “Is he the one who taught you how to cook?” he asked.
“Some,” she said as she headed to the kitchen. “He taught me and Jasmine how to make the dishes he learned as a child. Mom was German, which is where I learned to bake.”
“Oh, Lord,” he said as he trailed behind her. “I could eat that apple strudel you serve at Steamy Beans every day and die a happy man.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder as she opened the fridge. “My grandmother’s recipe.” Glancing behind him, she asked, “You want a glass of wine, sis?”
“Sure.”
“Beer for you, Will?” May held up a brown bottle with an eclectic-looking design on the label. “You convinced Danny and Tobias to try a local craft brew. You might have won them both over to your side.”
“Absolutely, thanks.”
He used the bottle opener she handed him to pop off the cap and then tossed the cap in the nearby trash can. After May poured Jasmine’s glass of rosé, he reached for it. She gave him another small smile and waved him toward the family room. He carried it to Jasmine, noting her wary gaze as she watched him. It wasn’t unlike the look her cat had given him all afternoon any time he got near her.
“Which episode is this?” he asked after handing her the glass of wine and moving over to one of the two chairs.
Her expression eased when he didn’t try to sit beside her. “The season one finale. I’m catching up before the new season starts. Now shh.”
He grinned before sipping his beer. Then he deliberately turned his attention to the TV so he didn’t creep Jasmine out by staring at her. Even though she wasn’t wearing makeup and her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, her fresh-faced beauty made him want to cross over to her and kiss her.
He was soon sucked into the show. He’d watched a few episodes of House of Archer, curious about all the buzz the show generated. Since it followed The Void and focused on the band’s front man, Archer—Will’s future son-in-law, apparently—he had told himself that watching it only made sense. Now, it was a guilty pleasure whenever he had time to sit in front of the television, which wasn’t all that often.
As the show neared its end, Jasmine’s phone rang. She picked it up from the end table, glanced at the number on the display, and jumped to her feet.
“Hello,” she said into the phone as she jogged up the stairs.
Will heard her identify herself before the sound of the bedroom door closing cut her off. He had no reason to be jealous, he told himself. He had no idea who was on the other end of that call.
But boy, was he. The dark feeling was unwelcome and undeniable.
“She’s been waiting for that call all day,” May called out from the kitchen.
Because Jasmine hadn’t paused the show, Will walked over to the remote and did so. He carried what was left of his beer over to the kitchen’s breakfast bar and took a seat, watching as May added oil to the wok on her stove.
“What’s the call about?” he asked.
“She’s about to find out if she was selected for call backs or straight-out offered a job with the company she auditioned for yesterday.”
He had forgotten she had an audition. Why hadn’t she mentioned it again? Was she planning on telling him she could no longer work with Katie if she got the job?
Despite how that made him feel, he said, “I hope she gets good news.”
“We’ll find out soon enough. If she comes down right away, she’ll be shouting the good news. If we don’t see her for a while, she’s taking time to recover from the bad news herself before she breaks it to me.”
“Okay.”
May whisked some honey into a bowl containing a dark sauce. Whatever it was smelled divine even from where Will sat. He caught hints of garlic, ginger, and spices. It made his mouth water.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked after a minute.
“You can come and add the rice to this pot of boiling water if you want. It’s already measured in the cup on the counter.”
“Sure.” He walked over to the pot on the stove. “Maybe I can learn a thing or two by watching you work. I’ve gotten the sense from Jasmine that she doesn’t approve of my takeout and leftovers dining system.”
She chuckled as she adjusted the temperature of the wok. “Yeah, she’s always been a healthy eater. Dancers have to be.”
“My team’s trainers would agree with that. Doesn’t make me any better at cooking.”
Several minutes passed. Jasmine didn’t return.
“Should she be down here by now if the news was good?” he asked, looking to the empty stairs.
May sighed. “Yep.”
“Damn.”
She gave him a long, searching look. “You really care about her, don’t you?”
“Yeah. But don’t tell your sister. She’s a tough nut to crack.”
Her lips curved up. “You’re not wrong.”
“If you’ve got any tips on weaknesses I can exploit, I’m all ears.”
After a moment of thought, she replied, “Hot salty fries and chocolate milkshakes.”
“You mean like eating them together? That sounds…”
“Gross?”
He nodded.
“I know. It’s delicious though, and something she only rarely indulges in.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
It was nice to have an ally in
his pursuit of Jasmine. She had him uncharacteristically unsure of himself. He’d take all the help he could get.
When the stir fry was ready, May served up two plates. “Jasmine will eat when she’s ready,” she explained. “Pushing her will only make things worse.”
He understood she was giving him more advice on his own approach to wooing her sister. Nodding, he carried his plate and a fresh beer with her to the dining table. As delicious as the food was, his mind was only half on the meal. He kept picturing Jasmine upstairs enduring her disappointment alone
May did her best to distract him, keeping him entertained with funny stories about her job and some from her and Jasmine’s childhood. Not surprisingly, Jasmine hadn’t burned a single thing as a kid.
As they were sitting and finishing their drinks after the meal, Jasmine came downstairs. She didn’t look their way. She just grabbed her glass of wine from the family room end table and walked to the patio doors off the kitchen leading to the outdoor deck. May and Will exchanged glances.
“She needs a little more time,” she said.
“Why don’t I help with the dishes?”
He detected approval in her expression, though whether it was from his offer to do the dishes or because he didn’t just leave, he couldn’t say. Either way, it couldn’t hurt to stay in her good graces.
She proved he was right once they were done cleaning. “Did I mention there are some loose boards on the deck?” she asked when she caught him looking toward the patio doors. “They’re a real safety hazard.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” he said. “I’ll take a look before I head out.”
“Thanks, Will. Really.”
He sensed from her tone that her gratitude extended beyond just the home repairs. Nodding, he collected his tool bag and carried it outside. Jasmine turned from where she stood leaning over the deck’s railing with her nearly empty wine glass between her hands. Her dark brows drew together when she saw it was him.
“Just nailing down a few loose boards before I go,” he said.
Her lips pursed, but she didn’t comment. She returned her gaze to the small garden behind the duplex. He wisely left her to her thoughts.
Because the building had a daylight basement where the laundry was located, the deck was raised one story from the ground. He walked down the stairs off the side of the deck, testing each one as he went. There were several loose nails that he hammered back into place. If he’d had his deck screws with him, he would have reinforced the stairs with them. Nails were never best for wood decks.
As he returned to the top of the stairs and started making his way around the deck’s railings to test their sturdiness, a head suddenly popped up over the wooden lattice separating May’s deck from the neighbor’s. The guy looked like he was around Will’s age. He had long, ginger-colored hair tied up in a man-bun and a scruffy beard that looked years away from filling in.
“Yo, man,” the guy said. “You know what you’re doing with that hammer?”
Not sure how to take the question, Will shrugged and said, “Yep.”
“Don’t suppose you might have time to come over and do that same thing on this side, would you? The fucking landlord’s a lazy asshole.”
Jasmine’s light snort of humor boosted Will’s mood. “So I’ve heard,” he replied. “I’d be happy to take a look.”
“Thanks.” The guy paused and cleared his throat. “Uh, how much are the girls paying you? Honestly, I don’t have much.”
“One serving of delicious chicken stir fry.”
The neighbor’s face brightened. “I’ve got some leftover pizza. It’s all yours.”
“I’ve had enough to eat, thanks. You don’t have to pay me.”
“You sure? I got a little weed if you want that instead.”
He could practically hear the team’s coaching staff screaming in protest from wherever they were right then. “Nah. It’s all good. Let me wrap up here and I’ll walk over.”
“Thanks, bro.”
Will turned and caught Jasmine looking at him once the guy disappeared. “Did you hear that?” he asked. “Who says bro anymore?”
Though she didn’t reply, he saw the humor in her lovely eyes. It boosted him even more as he nailed down everything he could on May’s deck and headed to the other half of the duplex. His bro’s deck was in similar shape to May’s, requiring the securing of a good number of nails. By the time he finished, the sun had almost set. He scented citronella as he made his way back over to May’s deck and saw the flickering lights of several tiki torches.
Jasmine had moved to one of the deck’s two cushioned rattan chairs. She sat with her legs curled up to the side and held her wineglass propped on the seat cushion. Her glass had more wine in it, telling him she’d either gone for a refill or May had come out to refill it for her. Based on what he had observed between the two sisters, he was betting on the latter.
Taking a chance, he returned his hammer to his tool bag and took a seat in the second chair. He waited until she looked over at him.
“I’m sorry about the audition,” he said.
She took a moment to reply. “Thanks.”
“I’m sure you want some more time to yourself, but I promise I’m a good listener.” When she didn’t say anything, he nodded and got to his feet. “Okay. Have a nice night.”
Before he reached his tool bag, she said, “It’s not like I wasn’t expecting this news.”
His heart bounced in his chest. Doing his best to keep his cool, he casually returned to his seat. Rather than reply, he sat near the edge of his chair and leaned toward her, bracing his elbows on his knees.
“I knew it was likely I’d have to go through a lot of auditions,” she continued. “I’ve been to tons of them since I was a kid. It’s part of the career I’ve chosen. Sitting and dwelling on one failure isn’t going to be productive.”
“It could be,” he said. When she gave him a puzzled look, he clarified, “All failures can be productive. We just have to ask ourselves what we learned from them so we can improve the next time.”
She nodded slowly. “An interesting point. I’ll have to give that some thought.” After taking a sip of her wine, she added, “Thanks for not just trying to cheer me up with all the platitudes about other auditions being right around the corner.”
“Sure.”
Neither of them spoke again for a while. He eased back in his chair so she didn’t feel pressured to say anything. The familiar chirping sound of night insects filled the silence.
Eventually, she finished her wine and set the glass aside.
“It was nice of you to help Barty,” she said.
“Is that your neighbor’s name?” When she nodded, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “Well it isn’t like I didn’t profit from it.” He snapped the paper bill as though it was a Benjamin. “This big guy right here is going right into Katie’s piggy bank when I get home.”
One corner of her mouth turned up. “That’s sweet. She has a piggy bank?”
“Oh, yeah. I want her to save up enough money to be able to supplement the college fund I’m saving for her. I’ll hope for scholarships, of course, but we’re a long way from knowing if that’s going to happen.”
Her expression grew shadowed. “I really admire all of your future planning, Will. It’s made me realize how terrible I am at it.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because it’s true. Dancing is all I’ve ever excelled at. It’s been my life. I guess I haven’t had the courage to look beyond that.”
He once again leaned closer to her. “That’s not true, though, is it? You’ve already proven that you can apply your abilities in more than one way. You’re excelling at your work with Katie.”
He saw the conflict in her eyes before she moved her gaze to the view beyond the deck.
“Would you be satisfied being a pitching coach if that suddenly became your only option?” she asked.
He i
nstinctively started to say yes. After all, it might point Jasmine in the teaching direction.
Then he considered how hard he’d worked to earn his current role.
“I’m honestly not sure,” he admitted. “But if you’re truly interested in exploring your future beyond dancing, now’s the time to start thinking about what else will make you happy.”
She once again lapsed into silence. Eventually, she gave him a single nod.
He took it for the small victory it was, silently praying that the future she envisioned had room for him and Katie in it.
Chapter Twenty
Will knew as soon as he released the pitch that it had been the wrong move. The L.A. batter, Andre Baines, had been hitting fastballs solidly all afternoon. Despite the fastball being Will’s best pitch, he second-guessed himself and went for the slider. His grip was affected by the light rain that had started falling. The pitch hung just enough that Baines sent it soaring out of the park.
Motherfucking son of a bitch.
The cursing was all in Will’s head. There was every possibility Katie was watching the game at home with his dad since it was a Sunday afternoon. She didn’t need to see him spewing profanity on top of blowing the save and costing his team the game.
That might be overly pessimistic, he supposed as he used his cleat to gouge the damp clay in front of the pitching rubber to vent some of his temper. Since this was a home game, the team still got the bottom half of the inning to try and win. Considering they’d only managed to score one run the entire game, however, getting Baines out and shutting down L.A. had been the team’s best option.
Instead, Will had to shake off his mistake while Baines and his teammate, Carlton Irvin, circled the bases. Irvin had gotten a double before Will took the mound, so that run would go against Descalso’s E.R.A. rather than his…which only made him feel worse.
The only upside to fucking up was that it gave him an extra mile or two per hour on his next three pitches, which was all he needed to strike out the next batter. As he feared, however, it was too little too late. The team ended up losing by a run.