Patience

by Sydney Lane

  Before we left, his mom came to me in my room as I was packing. She sat on the bed while I organized my things. I was a little more than afraid she had come to warn me away, to tell me they had other plans for Eric. Instead, I was shocked when she spoke very honestly to me.

  "Jenna, I know you must think we're overbearing helicopter parents, but Eric is our only son. We just want him to succeed and be happy." She reached for my hand, stilling me, and my eyes met hers. "Even though it doesn't matter, because I'm quite certain his mind is made up, I just want you to know that we're happy you're in his life."

  I was so relieved, I almost did a happy dance.

  And now, here I am with the man I love at one of the most romantic places in the world. All I can think about is how deeply lost I am.

  I might be cool with a hyphenated name. Jenna Ryan-James?

  It might take some getting used to.

  "Sunshine, let's sit so they can take our order." I turn to face him, the glow of candlelight reflected in his eyes, and realize that I can't imagine my life without him in it.

  Throughout dinner, I find that I can't take my eyes off him, that I can't even think a coherent thought. His eyes, so deep and blue like the ocean, draw me in, drowning me in their depths. He voice is husky, sending chills up my arms, like the simplest caress. My skin heats, craving his touch, as a familiar ache builds within me.

  As he stares into my eyes, I blush, wondering if he knows just what I'm thinking. He smiles, revealing his perfect white teeth, as he continues to talk to me in a hushed voice. Leaning across the table, he covers my shaking hand in his, soothing my nerves as his thumb caresses my wrist.

  There, surrounded by candlelight and beauty, he reaches into his jacket and reveals a small black box. I'm speechless as he opens it and lays it on the table in front of me.

  His fraternity letters. My heart begins beating erratically in my chest, blood rushing to my cheeks, and my eyes meet his in shock. Wearing his fraternity letters is only permitted once we're lavaliered. "Jenna, my sunshine, I know it's only been two months, but will you accept my letters?" His hand quivers as he watches me expectantly.

  Unshed tears pool in my eyes as I smile and whisper, "Of course." I can't believe he totally surprised me, that I had no idea at all.

  Slowly standing, he walks around the table, and standing behind me, he leans over me, lowering the necklace around my throat, his breath warming my skin. His fingers graze my neck as he struggles with the clasp, and my pulse quickens, my body instantly responding to his touch.

  When he leans down and places a soft kiss on my shoulder, I know this is it for me.

  No worries.

  No doubt.

  No going back.

  As he takes his seat across from me, his eyes gleam with some unnamed emotion. I've never seen him so relaxed or more handsome. And even with a black eye, he is absolutely perfect.

  I reach up, fingering the letters around my neck as I smile at him across the table.

  I love Eric James. I love him so much I don't even understand it, can't even comprehend how we ended up right here, right now. I don't have to have a label for it. I don't even bother wondering where we're headed. What we have is this moment, this beautiful, wonderful moment, and nothing else matters.

  The only thing I know for certain is that he may lose his guitar after all.

  Chapter 24

  Eric

  My letters mean a lot to me, and they've never looked sexier than they do as they shine back at me from Jenna's chest.

  Honestly, getting lavaliered is not something I ever thought I'd do. In a way, it's a way of merging all that is important to me. It's making a statement. Jenna Ryan is my future, and she's off limits.

  If truth be told, I would have bought her the biggest, brightest rock and placed it on her finger if I hadn't known it would freak her out.

  We've only known each other two months. Fifty nine days.

  In that time, she's taught me that I was only going through the motions of life before I met her, that I was missing out on the here and now because I was so focused on the future. She's taught me that there is beauty all around us, surrounding us, in the small things we often take for granted.

  In a way, she taught me how to breathe. My breath of fresh air. My sunshine.

  Throughout dinner, I can't take my eyes off her. Love swells in my heart, and I find myself thinking about Declan and Brody.

  Brody says he had no choice, that he couldn't have stopped himself from pursuing Quincy any more than he could have kept himself from breathing. I was so quick to criticize, to rush to judgment. I didn't understand why the brotherhood wasn't more important or how he could throw that away. And now, all I can imagine is how completely torn he must feel, trying to deny himself all he'll ever need or want while tearing his brother apart.

  How completely closed-minded I was.

  Jenna smiles at me, reaching for the necklace around her neck. She's never been sexier, and blood rushes into my pants as I have an image of her wearing only my letters, nothing but that sign of my love nestled between her breasts.

  "Jenna." The way she looks at me drives me insane. At the rate we're going, the ring I chose for her won't stay in my sock drawer for long. Just imagining it sparkling on her finger does all kinds of things to me.

  The letters say 'she's off limits'.

  The ring will say 'forever'.

  "Yes?" She smiles at me crookedly, reminding me that I never said what I wanted to say.

  "Sunshine, I think it's time for us to go." My mouth is suddenly dry, and I get the distinct impression that I couldn't say more than a few words without blithering like an idiot.

  Her eyes sparkle as she nods her head. My eyes stalk her lips, unable to look away, but my mind doesn't register a single word she says.

  She abruptly stands at the same time I do, my chair almost tipping over behind me. Jenna's face is flushed, and her chest rises and falls with each deep breath she takes. Her perfume teases my nostrils, instantly reminding me of last night, holding her in my arms with her body pressed against me.

  I wonder if I'll always associate that particular scent with temptation.

  Living, breathing, relentless temptation.

  The car ride is silent but not awkward, quick but not rushed. At Target, we hastily walk through the aisles, searching for sheets and a blanket. As she takes my hand and pulls me along, I am plagued by the inability to speak. She practically skips down the aisle, and I'm doing good to put one foot in front of the other.

  She has me on my knees, and she doesn't even know it.

  "How about these?" Jenna hold up a tacky set of red satin sheets, batting her eyelashes and biting her bottom lip.

  I drag my eyes from hers and hold up an equally awful set of heart-splattered sheets. "These?" I laugh at the silly expression on her face, and my eyes travel to her chest.

  This crazy, insane, totally sexy girl is wearing my letters. She belongs to me.

  Suddenly, I don't care what we get. I grab the sheets from her hands and tuck them under my arm. Reaching for her arm, it's my turn to drag her through the store. We stop just long enough to grab a blanket and pay, before I usher her out the door and to the car.

  I don't want to let her go, even the time it takes to unlock the car and get in is too long. My body and my mind are in two different places.

  My body aches to touch her, to reach for her and claim her, to do what I should have done a long damn time ago. I imagine my hands fisted in her hair as I ravage her mouth with mine, and my hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

  My head tells me to take my time, to savor every moment, every touch, to tattoo my brain with every single detail of her body. I want to make slow, deliberate love to her, to finally make her mine in every sense.

  Rolling to a stop at a red light, I take a deep breath and reach down to adjust myself in my slacks. They are suddenly uncomfortable, way too tight in the crotch.

  I shift my eyes to Jenna,
turning slightly in my seat to study her face. When she lifts her eyes to mine, the world melts away. "Thank you... for today, for dinner, for this..." She fingers the necklace, her eyelashes whispering closed. "It's been a dream come true."

  Just when I thought I couldn't want her any more, she goes and says something like that and looks like that.

  I hit the gas, my heart in my throat, as I realize that tonight is not about the bet.

  It never really was.

  It's about Jenna being the girl I love, about her being the first girl I ever wanted to share my life with. I want to make our first time together special, something she will cherish. Forever.

  Because I'm never letting her go.

  Chapter 25

  Jenna

  "Yeah? Just think- the night is still young." His voice always gets to me, but when he smiles, his lips so perfectly curving into a grin, it really gets to me.

  A shot to the heart. And if I'm being honest, straight to my girly parts.

  I fidget with my dress, pulling it over my thighs. He shifts in his seat, once again adjusting the tight material covering him. I can only imagine what we look like, both of us painfully uncomfortable and fighting the inevitable.

  "Too bad we have one more day to go." I don't know if I'm reminding him or myself, but it's clear that I'm losing control of the situation. Operation Striptease is in dire jeopardy.

  "Yeah, too bad we're in that shithole of a hotel room." His voice sounds almost as dejected as mine. I want him so much my body hums with tension, so wired that every movement, no matter how small, vibrates through my core. I close my legs, shifting in my seat to relieve the pressure at the juncture of my thighs.

  As soon as we reach the hotel, my reservations fly out the window. Eric reaches across the console, his hand kneading my thigh. Turning to face me, he whispers, "Jenna, look at me." I turn my head, our eyes meeting in the heated confines of the car, even though I know he'll break me if I do.

  I struggle to compose myself. I swear I do. "Hmmm?" I breathe deeply. Eric- fresh, spicy, and earthy. Male.

  Sex is in the air.

  "You're fuckin' killing me over here." On a sharp exhale, he moves quickly, his body angled over the console as his hand slides to the nape of my neck, cradling my head as he draws my mouth to his.

  The kiss is not gentle. Our mouths collide in a sharp bite of pain as he nips my lip with his teeth. I moan against him, opening for him as his tongue pushes inside. He explores, tasting me thoroughly, as his other hand slides up my thigh, kneading my hip as his mouth plunders mine.

  My hands have a mind of their own, moving over his body, nowhere and everywhere all at once. Across his solid shoulders, down his arms, to his lean hips. I fumble, grasping his shirt and tugging it from his waistband. My hands are on his hot skin, burning, touching, exploring the peaks and valleys of his rock hard stomach. I love his body, so perfect and so... him.

  He jerks his mouth from mine, his breathing deep and erratic, as his hand glides under me, cupping my ass. "So damn beautiful." His whispered words rock me, inside and out. He leans back, his hands releasing me before he orders, "Out. Now."

  Oh, sweet Mary, I feel those words. I mean, I feel them. Right where it counts.

  He bolts out of the car, rushing to the passenger side just as I step out. As soon as my feet hit pavement, I find myself forcefully pushed against the car, his body trapping me there. My hands rise to his chest, and I can feel his heart racing against my fingertips.

  And for a moment, time stands still. His perfect face is hidden in the shadows, his silhouette illuminated only by the glow of the streetlight behind him. It only makes him more glorious, his blonde hair a halo framing his face. His eyes pierce me, gazing intently into me, and I suddenly feel vulnerable, as if I'm not in control at all.

  Maybe I never was.

  He moves quickly, his hands winding around me, grasping my hips and lifting me from the ground. I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him into me just before his mouth finds mine. There is a sort of desperation there, as if we can't get close enough, can't find the words to say, so we allow our bodies to speak for us. We're suspiciously close to dogging.

  Supporting my weight, he backs away from the car, carrying me toward the stairs on the side of the building. My body is wrapped around him, my arms looped around his neck and feet tightly knotted behind his back as he climbs the stairs.

  He walks, his mouth never leaving mine and his hands fisted in my hair, tight, just enough to be pleasurable without hurting. Or maybe it does hurt, and I like it. Oh, I do like it.

  His tongue shatters any other illusion I had that I might be in control.

  He owns this moment.

  He owns my heart.

  Chapter 26

  Eric

  Oh, the irony.

  To wait so long and finally decide that this was the night... then end up in the shittiest hotel in America? The fucking irony.

  As soon as I push the door open with my foot, the filthy stench fills my nostrils, almost causing me to gag and drop Jenna on the floor. It's almost enough to make me throw her back in the car and drive as far away from here as possible.

  But we're here, we're together, and she'd never go for it anyway.

  Her legs tighten around my waist, her warmth enveloping me, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. I turn around, pressing her back against the door. When I wrench my mouth from hers, my lips find her neck. I taste her, breathing in her now familiar scent.

  I briefly wonder if I had never made the bet, would things be different? Would I have taken the time to memorize the soft, flowery scent I associate with her? Would I have noticed the small dimple that appears only with her brightest smiles? Or would I have missed the smallest details that make up this beautiful, witty girl?

  "Eric..." Her voice is rough, raw with need. I smile as my tongue traces circles on the skin just under her ear. I love knowing I can do this to her, being responsible for the chaos going on inside her body. Her chest heaves as her breath catches in her throat. I roll my hips into her, causing her to moan loudly.

  Reaching up, I wrap my hands around hers, unwinding them from my neck, and lower her feet to the floor. Her body slides down mine while I continue to tease her with my tongue. She arches her back, her head falling back to expose her throat as I continue to explore. She feels so natural, looks so delectable, I can almost pretend the room doesn't exist behind me.

  Almost.

  I back away, torn in half. Part of me wants to put the bet to rest, to assure her that she means everything to me, so much more than a wager. The other part tells me that this is Jenna, and I can't make love to her the first time in a seedy hotel just because I have something to prove. Looking around the room, it pisses me off.

  It wasn't supposed to be like this.

  When I catch my breath, my heart still pounding in my chest, I ask, "Who's making the bed?"

  She smiles, biting her bottom lip and releasing it. "I will." She steps around me, walking further into the room. As I look around, I instantly regret stopping while we were ahead. At least I wouldn't have to worry about catching crabs from the door. "You go take care of business. I've got this."

  She bends over, picking up the Target bags I threw on the floor when we came in. I walk to her, giving her a quick kiss, before grabbing my bag and heading to the small bathroom. I brush my teeth and strip to my boxers, still wondering just what to do about this dilemma I've found myself in.

  When I walk out of the bathroom, my eyes are instantly drawn to the bed. I laugh when I take in the red satin sheets, the hot pink hearts making me smile. Jenna stands, still in her dress and heels, and laughs with me. "I know, right? This is epic." I love those heels. I really do. But she is so overdressed right now.

  Her smile freezes as her eyes darken and focus on my chest. I find it all kinds of hot when her eyes travel down my stomach, lingering on my boxers, before returning to my face. She's not afraid of her own sexuality, and I love it. />
  I break the stare, looking around the room as if it's the first time I've seen it. "What? You mean this?" I sweep my arms around. "I didn't even notice. I only see you."

  I walk toward her, but she holds up her hand. "Stay away. It's my turn to hit the bathroom." I reach for her, but she jumps back, giggling, and rushes into the bathroom, just out of my reach. She closes the door in my face and yells through the door, "I mean it, Eric James. Stay out of here." She must have noticed the broken lock on the door. I could have so much fun with that.

  But I have preparations to make.

  I rush down to my car, gathering my supplies from the trunk, and jog back to the room. She's still busy in the bathroom, so I get to work. First, I arrange candles around the room, lighting them as I go. Thank God, they're scented. I reach into the bag, realizing that we won't be using the bath salts and bubble bath. But if there is one thing I've learned from Jenna, it's that sometimes, you just have to make the best of the situation.

  I turn off the lights, taking a deep breath. At least it no longer smells like shit in here.

  The bathroom door opens behind me, and when I turn around, I freeze. My heart stops in my chest. Stops. Before restarting with a loud thump in my ears.

  Standing there in only a tiny black negligee and those heels I love so much, her beauty hits me right between the eyes. Slowly, she walks toward me, and I feel as if I'm in a trance. Hypnotized.

  When she's standing in front of me, she reaches out, one finger pointing in my chest as she backs me toward the bed. When my knees hit the mattress, I sit, my eyes level with her thighs. I can't help myself. I reach out to touch her, but she steps back, wagging her finger at me and smiling. "Uh uh. Not yet, Mr. James." I drop my hands, my elbows resting on my knees, trapped in a dream where I can look but not touch.

  Backing away, she reaches for her phone. I briefly wonder what she's up to, when music fills the air. No, not romantic-I-want-to-make-love music. It's naughty-come-and-get-me music. Fuck.