by Lisa Suzanne
After dinner, we cleaned up together. “Want to take a walk?” he asked, and I felt so full that a walk sounded kind of perfect.
We strolled around the neighborhood, walking close but not touching. He was quieter than he’d been through dinner, and I had the inclination that he was about to make some sort of confession but he was fighting himself on whether or not to talk.
There was a small park in the center of his neighborhood with a swing set, slide, and a few picnic tables with charcoal grills. We walked to the swings and I sat in one. He sat in the other one facing the opposite direction, and we both started swinging slowly, our eyes meeting each time we passed.
“What made you decide to become a teacher?” he finally asked.
“My English teacher junior year said he thought I’d make a great teacher. He was hot so I decided to give it a try.”
He chuckled. “Really?”
I nodded. “I know it sounds stupid when I say it that way, but I really respected him and liked him. We had a discussion activity during class one day, and afterward he asked me if I had ever considered becoming a teacher. I hadn’t, really. I was too busy being a high school student and not looking toward the future. But when he said that, I started seriously considering it, and here I am.”
“Teachers can be pretty powerful influences,” he mused.
“What made you decide to become a counselor?” I asked, mimicking his question.
He sighed. “Long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
Something like a grunt came at me in reply. We continued swinging in silence for awhile, and then he stopped, so I did, too. He stood, and I followed him. We resumed our walk, heading back toward his house.
I waited quietly, and the random thought came to mind that maybe it had something to do with his tattoo.
“Kind of a similar story to yours. A counselor told me he thought I’d make a good counselor. But I wasn’t attracted to him.”
I giggled. He was clearly trying to lighten what was a serious topic for him, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it had been random that someone who happened to be a counselor said he’d be good at the job or if he had actually been in counseling for something.
I got the feeling that it was the latter, but I didn’t want to press the sensitive subject.
“Well whoever told you that was right. You do make a good counselor. A fantastic one, actually.”
I felt his hand slip into mine, and those damn flutters started up again. He squeezed my hand. “You are a fantastic teacher, too. Your students are lucky to have you.”
I looked over at him, and there was something insanely romantic about the moment. It was dark out, but it was a clear night, and the moon was full and shining. We stood just beyond the park, surrounded by trees. It was a cool and crisp night, and as I looked at him, he stopped walking and turned toward me. His eyes glinted and his face was shadowed in the moonlight. The shadows gave his face a dangerous and mysterious edge, and combined with that tattoo that I knew was hidden under his shirt, he looked like a sexy enigma standing before me.
“Did you bring your cell phone?” he suddenly asked.
I shook my head. “No. Did you?”
He shook his head slowly, a faint smile forming on those perfect lips.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because there’s no oven timer out here, and I just wanted to make sure that there wouldn’t be any cell phones, either. Because I’m about to do something I have wanted to do for over five years, V, and I don’t want any interruptions.”
My heart pounded nearly out of my chest as I registered the meaning behind his words.
He wanted to kiss me.
I wanted him to kiss me.
He wanted to kiss me for the past five years.
Five years?!?!
And right here? Right now? There weren’t going to be any more interruptions.
First Richard.
Then the oven timer.
Then the cell phone.
But now?
Nothing was going to stop this from happening.
With his hand still connected to mine, he pulled my arm and wrapped it around his waist, lacing his fingers through mine behind his back. His other hand came up under the bottom of my shirt and found my hip, and his fingertips pressed firmly into my skin as my free hand came up to his neck. I could feel his pulse beating strongly beneath my hand around his neck, racing as fast as my own. His eyes gazed into mine for a moment, and everything in the world disappeared except for Jesse and me.
The hand that gripped my hip pulled my body closer to his. We were standing flush against each other, and I could tell that he was as hot for me as I was for him from the rather enormous bulge pressing against my belly.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, he lowered his head to mine. I closed my eyes and felt the softest whisper of a kiss as his lips brushed against mine. He pulled back, and my eyes opened slowly to his.
God, he was fucking gorgeous.
He lowered his head again, and this time it wasn’t soft or gentle.
His lips pressed firmly to mine, and I felt his tongue at the seam of my lips. I opened my mouth to his. I hadn’t kissed a man in over a year, but it was like riding a bicycle.
And I would ride Jesse’s bicycle any damn day of the week.
His tongue collided with mine aggressively as I felt his fingers digging into my hip. He let go of the hand he held behind my back and brought that hand to my other hip. My fingers slid under his shirt, and he moaned into my mouth as I felt the warm, smooth softness of the skin on his back while his tongue did magical things against my own. He sucked on my bottom lip for a moment, and I felt the soft bite of his teeth as I tasted the sweet Jesse flavor that I already knew I’d never get enough of.
I explored his mouth with my own tongue, tasting and teasing and wanting more than just his mouth on mine.
It was all over too fast as I felt him slow the aggressiveness. He pressed his closed lips against mine once, and then twice, and then he pulled back, still holding me in his arms. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and then he leaned his forehead against mine. “I can’t get you out of my head, V,” he whispered.
“I don’t want you to,” I whispered back, and his lips met mine sweetly once more.
He backed away, taking my hand in his, and we walked back toward Jesse’s house in comfortable silence.
“I need to make a few calls,” he said as we got closer, and I nodded.
“I should finish up in the bathroom.”
“Oh, good,” he said in feigned relief. “I thought you were going to leave it like that.”
“Yeah. It’s my way of redecorating,” I teased.
“If you want something redecorated, just ask. But I don’t think I can get on board with the floor of lotion you created.”
“Are you a neat freak?” I asked.
“Have you seen my refrigerator?” he countered.
“Touché. I’ve never seen such an organized refrigerator. Impressive, Drake.”
“Thank you, Freemont,” he grinned.
I liked hearing my maiden name out of his mouth. I liked that he knew I was already detached from Richard even if I was still married to him under the law. “I was afraid to touch anything in there for fear that I might not face one of the labels out and you’d have a heart attack.”
“I probably would have a heart attack, so thank you for considering my health.”
When we got back home, Jesse headed to his bedroom and shut the door for his phone calls while I headed to the bathroom to organize the chaos. I wondered what he was doing, who he was calling, but I reminded myself that it wasn’t my business. And I certainly didn’t even allow myself to think that he was calling up all his women after that ridiculously hot kiss we just shared. Based on the few days we’d spent together, I was starting to wonder about his reputation as a playboy. If he was truly the ladies’ man that he made himself out to be – or that I had as
sumed he was – he’d either have tried to sleep with me or he’d have been out with other women. While I still didn’t know what happened on Sunday, I got the feeling from his reaction when he’d arrived home that it wasn’t a sex fest. Something serious happened, but he wasn’t talking. All I could hope for was that he would tell me when he was ready to.
I was completely lost in thought about all things Jesse while I cleaned up the mess I had made in the bathroom. I was sitting on the floor, lining lotions, body washes, and perfumes evenly under the sink (labels facing outward… someone was clearly having an effect on me) when I heard his voice behind me. “V?” I nearly jumped out of my skin, hitting my head on the countertop as I stood.
I turned around. He looked so serious, and that haunted look was back.
Who the hell kept doing this to him? Was it Carly?
“You scared me,” I said, rubbing my head.
“Sorry.” This was one of those times when he usually laughed it off or teased me, but I didn’t even see a hint of a smile on his face at all. “I need to run out for awhile. I just wanted to let you know.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, afraid what his answer might be as I gripped a bottle of perfume in my hand.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
I set the perfume on the counter and walked over to him, pulling him into my arms for just a moment. “Do you need me to do anything?”
He shook his head. “Thanks. I have to go.” He pressed his lips quickly to mine, almost as if to remind me that he was still interested in me, and then he turned and left.
Curiosity gripped me, but there was nothing I could do. I reminded myself once again that he’d talk when he was ready. After the kiss we had shared, I knew that it wasn’t just my imagination. I knew that he cared about me, and I was pretty sure that he wanted me like I wanted him.
In a few short months, I’d be free to fully pursue him. I hated denying myself what I really wanted – what I really needed – but I refused to take the risk of karma biting me in the ass by starting a relationship while I was still married to someone else.
I finished up in the bathroom and glanced at the clock. It was already almost 10:00, which was my bedtime, and I wondered where he had gone off to so late. Clearly it was some sort of emergency gauging from his reaction.
I decided to wait up on the couch for a bit for him. He might need someone to talk to, or even just someone to give him a hug and be there for him after he went off to deal with God knows what, and I wanted to be that person for him.
And, for the fourth night in a row, I fell asleep on Jesse’s couch. The damn thing was like some sort of magical sleep aid. Screw the Advil PM; all I needed was Jesse’s magical sectional couch.
I felt lips on my forehead again, and this time I knew I wasn’t dreaming. I was in his arms, somewhere between asleep and awake. He was carrying me to my bed, and he threw back the blankets and sheets and helped me snuggle in under the covers. And then I felt his warmth next to me, his chest pressed against my back and his arm around my waist as he fell into bed beside me. I fell back into a deep sleep, and what felt like five minutes later, my cell phone wake-up call rang shrilly at 5:30. Just like the previous morning, I turned over and ran into a hard wall of man, and while most mornings I woke up easily when my alarm went off, something about having Jesse Drake in the bed with me persuaded me to hit the snooze button.
He was still in a deep slumber, and I threw my arm around his waist and burrowed into his side, realizing that he’d stripped off his shirt but not his jeans. He slept in jeans for two nights in a row. I didn’t know where he went the night before, and frankly, I didn’t care. All I knew was that when he came back home, he carried me to bed and then got in beside me. Clearly I was filling some void for him just as he was for me.
My alarm went off nine minutes later. I wished that it wasn’t February when it was still dark in the mornings, because I would’ve had a perfect, unobstructed view of his tattoo from where I was lying beside him.
I pressed a gentle kiss to the sculpted flesh on his chest, and he groaned quietly in response. I caressed his cheek with my knuckles softly and lovingly, the feel of his stubble under my fingers sending a tingle of lust through me. Somehow it was rough and soft at the same time, and it left me wanting to feel it under my lips.
It left me wanting to feel it between my legs.
I left him to sleep in my bed instead of forcing him to get up and go back to sleep in the other room. I quietly moved around my dark room, grabbing clothes so that I could just get dressed in the bathroom after my shower.
I took my shower and then applied lotion and combed the tangles out of my hair, and as I went to get dressed, I realized I’d forgotten something pretty important: panties.
Shit.
I pulled the towel a little tighter around me, hoping that Jesse was either still asleep or that he’d gotten up and left my room. I was beyond embarrassed to exit the bathroom in nothing but a towel, but I had to get my panties. I couldn’t go commando to school.
I peeked out the door of the bathroom and saw that the coast was clear. The bed was empty and the room was lit. Jesse had gotten up and turned on the light, but he had also left the bedroom door wide open.
I snuck out stealthily and found the drawer that I had decided would be my delicates drawer just the day before. I opened it and bent over it, leafing through to find a pair of white panties that wouldn’t show through my light khaki pants.
“I brought you some orange ju—” Jesse’s voice startled me, causing me, of course, to drop my fucking towel as I jumped and turned around at his voice.
He stood in the doorway with a glass of orange juice in his hand, admiration in his eyes, and a wicked smile gracing those perfect lips.
“Well,” he said, his voice low and raspy and breathtakingly sensual as his eyes moved appreciatively down the full frontal show he was getting. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Shit!” I yelled, diving for my towel as I did my best to cover up all of my bits and pieces. I wrapped the towel back around me as tightly as I could. My face had to be the color of a lobster. I think the blush was spreading down my neck and into my chest, and if it was, Jesse just had a comprehensive view of it all.
“Don’t cover up for my benefit,” he said. “I think I like you better without the towel.”
“Oh my God,” I said, at once offended and totally turned on by his words. I grabbed the first pair of panties I could find in my drawer and ran back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
CHAPTER 9
I could not believe Jesse had just seen me naked. And it wasn’t like he just saw an accidental flash of a boob. He saw everything. I was as naked as the day is long.
For one brief second, I was thankful I’d kept up with my waxing appointments even though no one had seen me naked since the awful anniversary. And then I wondered if my line of thinking was really so ridiculous.
Jesse Drake had just seen me completely naked.
And that gleaming look in his eyes as mine met his for the briefest of seconds was most definitely admiring.
I finished getting ready, trying to focus on anything aside from my complete mortification. I thought about what I was teaching that day, and somehow my lesson plan on Canterbury Tales seemed a lot less important than the fact that Jesse Drake had just seen me completely naked.
Oh, what Quinn would have to say about that – not to mention the fact that Jesse and I shared one hell of a kiss the night before.
After I finished getting ready, I headed out to the kitchen, hoping to avoid facing him before I left for work. Even though, I had to admit, I still wanted to see him. I just didn’t want to have to face him.
I needed about a week to get over the humiliation.
But, as these things always seem to go for me, he was there in the kitchen, sitting at the table completely dressed for work, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper, looking calm, cool, and collected in a s
hirt and tie. A tie, by the way, that I wanted to rip off of him with my teeth.
“There she is,” he winked, grinning at me as if everything was completely normal. As if we hadn’t shared the hottest kiss ever. As if he hadn’t just seen me naked. “Sadly, now fully clothed.” He mock frowned, and it was just about the most adorable thing I have ever seen.
“Yes. Fully clothed,” I repeated like an idiot. Coherent thoughts eluded me as I moved around the kitchen, gathering a travel mug to fill with coffee.
“I’m not sorry,” he said.
“About what?” I asked.
“Seeing you like that.” I could see the heat in his eyes as he gave me this smoldering look, and I turned red all over again as I took a deep breath in through my nose and blew it out through my mouth.
God, what he did to me.
“Everything okay after last night?” I asked, changing the subject as I focused on pouring cream into my mug. I didn’t want to bring up something negative, especially now that he was obviously in a much better frame of mind, but I did want to get the attention off of me.
He was quiet, so I glanced over at him. His eyes darkened. “It’s alright.”
“Want to talk about it?”
He shrugged. “Maybe later.”
“What time did you get home?”
“A little after two.”
Two? As in just a little over four hours earlier?
How did this man survive on so little sleep?
“Jesse, what’s going on?” I asked, placing the cream back in the refrigerator and walking to the other side of the counter. I leaned back on it and eyed Jesse. I was still mortified, but concern for him overtook my embarrassment.
He just shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. “Don’t worry about it, V.”
I sighed, resigned to the fact that I couldn’t make him talk. “I need to get going. I’ve got some copies to make this morning.”
“Want to carpool?”
“I’d love to, but I need to stop back at my… um, at my old house after school.”