I do as she asks and then feel my way back to her bed. She reaches out, grasps my wrist and tugs. I think this means she wants me to sit on the bed again. I do so, but she tugs again. “Would you lie down next to me? I just need to be with someone right now.”
Someone? Just anyone? Or…me?
In spite of those questions whirling around in my brain, I lie next to her. But I try not to touch her. In seconds, she has scooted over, resting her head on my shoulder, pulling my other arm around her.
I’m so tense that I’m sure she can feel it. She shifts her head, settling closer against me, and I can smell her hair again. That same smell. It fills me with…something. Makes it seem as if my blood is speeding up, rushing through my veins faster. And it’s hard to swallow, too.
“Relax, Wil. Take a deep breath. Or does this bother you? Would you rather not be touched?”
I inhale a deep breath and let it go. She adjusts her head to look at my face, though it’s dark so I can’t imagine what she can see. I can’t see her very well, either, but I can definitely smell her. The cloud of her scent enveloping me. It’s enough to cause vertigo. And it really does feel like the room is spinning.
I clear my throat. “Why are you crying, Jenna? Are you sad about your tiara?”
She shakes her head and is silent for a long time, then she sniffs again and swipes a hand across her cheek before leaning into me. “I get like this sometimes when I drink too much.”
“Drinking makes you sad?”
“Only if I’m sad before I start drinking. It just amplifies it.” I picture a microphone echoing in a loud room, screeching, hurting my ears. Her sadness is hurting her like that?
“Then you shouldn’t drink when you’re sad.”
She lets out a quiet, gentle laugh. “Impeccably logical, Wil. You should have been a Vulcan.”
“I’ve been told that before. Why are you sad?”
She’s suddenly still and very quiet, then she shrugs. “Just a long day…got off to a bad start. I’ll be okay once I sleep it off.”
I turn my head but just slightly. Her hair is tickling my nose, so my choices are to turn away so I no longer feel it or press my face more firmly into her hair. I chose the latter. I’ve heard of people talking about a “head rush” before—this must be what they’re describing.
Jenna’s hand is moving across my chest. It’s a light, fluttery touch, and I hate that it makes me uncomfortable. I capture her hand under one of mine to stop it.
“Do you not like that?”
I take a moment to think about the question and how I want to answer it. “I don’t like light touches. It feels like my skin is crawling.”
“So you don’t like to be touched at all, or…?”
“I don’t like to be touched lightly.”
Suddenly, the pressure from her hand increases as she presses harder. My heart starts to race directly under her hand, which rests firmly on my sternum.
“How’s that?”
“Better,” I answer, but my voice is a rasp. It’s suddenly harder to speak and my mouth is dry. I’m almost obsessed with the thought of kissing her again.
It’s a weird word, kiss. With so many different meanings, it confuses me sometimes. A kiss can be a kind of chocolate, it can be a kiss of death, it can be truelove’s kiss. It can be the chaste pressure of lips against a cheek in greeting or a momentary show of affection. But that same word can also describe incredible, unfathomable passion. Like Jack and Rose’s forbidden kisses in Titanic, though their love was a doomed one. Or that expression of undying love and a promise of self-sacrifice, like Arwen’s promise to Aragorn when she declares she will give up the immortal life of an elf in order to be with him as a mortal.
“Was that true…what you said during the game?” she says in a quiet voice.
“I don’t recall lying during that game.”
“When you said you’ve never slept with someone—I mean…are you a virgin?”
I think about how I want to answer that question, and the silence stretches on.
She shifts, turning toward me. “I don’t think less of you because of it, if that’s why you aren’t answering. In fact, it’s just the opposite.”
“Really?”
“I’m actually just surprised. You’re very handsome. There are women in the clan who would jump at the chance to…jump you.” All that does is produce images of people jumping in my mind—on a pogo stick, on a trampoline, off a cliff—though I’m vaguely aware that she’s referring to sex and not actual jumping.
“I’ve had the opportunity. I chose not to.”
Her head lifts from the pillow. “Really? You didn’t want to?”
“I want to. With the right person.” I wait for her to react in the number of ways I’ve heard before…disbelief or disgust or with questions about my sexuality.
“That means that sex means more to you than it does most guys.”
She’s right, and something inside of my chest twists at her words. It sounds as if she admires that difference, which has been both a blessing and a curse to me in my life. I am different.
But Jenna understands me. It’s been a long time since anyone really has.
And I can no longer resist. I want more of what we shared last weekend. I turn to her and press my mouth to hers. She lets out a little gasp, and I might have pulled away if I wasn’t already desperate for her.
Chapter 11
Jenna
William’s tongue breached my lips, slipping in effortlessly without asking permission this time. He’d assumed authority and I happily ceded it to him—even more happily when his hand slid from my head, down my back, to my hip and then slowly to my butt.
What the hell was this? My body was trembling like I was the virgin, not him. Suddenly, I couldn’t catch my next breath. There was so much here in this moment, and I was almost overwhelmed by the swift rush of feelings.
I wasn’t drunk on liquor anymore. I was drunk on him. His smell. His taste. The feel of his hard, masculine body beside mine.
Twenty minutes ago, I’d retreated into the dark, accompanied only by aching thoughts about today’s visit to the cemetery and my potential lifetime of loneliness. I’d been licking my wounds when William had entered and immediately honed in on my emotional state. It was humbling to have him here, but impulse alone had driven me to ask for his comfort.
And he’d offered it with no aim to take it any further. He’d stroked my hair and held me in his arms, where I felt so safe. Like I could sleep for a decade wrapped in his iron embrace. Like I was Hera asking Hypnos, the god of sleep, for the blessings of peaceful, uninterrupted rest.
What did this mean? And why was it making me ache with even more longing than before? For the love of the goddess…
My heart raced, but it wasn’t just from the pangs of desire. It was fear. Pure, screaming fear put me in fight-or-flight mode while playing tug-of-war with hungry, burning lust that wanted more, more, more.
When William’s callused hand clasped the tender skin of my neck, desire won out. The rough feel of his fingers was maddening, ratcheting up the lust a few more notches from the already blazing level of our kisses.
I placed my hands on his firm chest, sliding over every plane. I itched to get under his shirt and vowed to have his clothes off in the next half hour. This hot hunk of man-virgin was not going to stay that way much longer if I had anything to say about it.
Needing to be even closer to him, I pushed my breasts hard against his chest.
He let out a long, hot breath against my mouth, which was cut short by a noise at the door. Another person in the room. “Hey Jenna, have you seen my—?”
I froze, only now realizing that William was lying completely on top of me at this point. In the dim light spilling in from the hallway, I could just make out Mia standing frozen in her spot.
Slowly, sluggishly, I straightened while my entire body protested being pulled away from William. He rolled back, freeing me from under him, and then he immediately
sat up without looking directly at his cousin’s fiancé. His eyes were on the floor like a chastened schoolboy, and that kind of annoyed me.
What on earth did either of us have to be ashamed of? We were both consenting adults who weren’t in any sort of committed relationship with other people, for heaven’s sake.
We sat next to each other on the bed and I adjusted my shirt, thinking that if he were any other guy, he would have had his hands up my shirt during the first minute of that kiss.
But instead, he’d gently cradled my head in his big hands. How incredibly sweet. I glanced at him and then at the doorway, where Mia was still standing with her mouth hanging open.
I met her gaze, raising my brows.
“Uh…oh, sorry. Adam’s finally decided he’s not going to be sober enough to drive home anytime soon, so he called for a car to come get us. Heath passed out, and we’ve been drawing all over him with a Sharpie to pass the time. He’s probably spending the night on your living room floor. I came in here looking for my phone.”
“It’s on my desk. You plugged it into my charger, remember?”
Mia was staring fixedly at her stepbrother’s bowed head and didn’t respond right away. Finally, she roused herself. “Oh, yeah…um. That’s right. Duh…losing my memory at the old age of twenty-four.”
I looked away and William fidgeted beside me, folding his hands over the sizeable bulge in his jeans. So awkward.
Mia walked over to my desk and pulled her phone off the charger, then stuffed it into her back pocket. Turning back at me, she said, “Jenna, can I…talk to you for a sec?”
William stood from the bed, still conspicuously covering his crotch area. “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.”
Mia watched him go with concerned eyes and then closed the door after him. I reached over and flipped on the desk lamp, blinking at the unwelcome light. My friend was staring at me like a reproachful mother who had found birth control pills in her teenage daughter’s purse or something.
“Can I ask what’s going on between you and William?”
I clenched my teeth. How was this any of her business, stepsister or not? “You can ask.”
She tilted her head and grimaced at me.
I sighed. “Well, the only thing you saw was kissing, right? So that’s what was going on between us. Kissing.”
Mia blew out a breath, also expelling a self-conscious laugh. “I don’t mean to sound like an asshole. I’m just…be careful, okay?”
“We’re all adults here, Mia. We know what we’re doing.”
Her uncomfortable smile grew and she shifted from one leg to the other. “I know that—I know. It’s just that you’re leaving soon. And given your dating history…”
I blinked. Now Mia was singing the same song as Alex—and Helena! “The number of guys I’ve dated is irrelevant. Just because you never dated anyone before Adam—”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. Of course you can date whoever you want and for however long you want, and you know that you’d get no judgment from me. At. All. I’m just worried about the whole dynamic going on here. What happens when you date and then break up? We’re all a part of the same group of friends—”
“Oh, you’re worried about that? Ross and Rachel did just fine.” I shrugged.
Mia’s jaw dropped. “Ross and Rachel aren’t reality. They dated and broke up over and over again and hung out with their mutual friends with no consequences. Life isn’t an episode of Friends, Jenna. If something like that happens…it could change everything.”
And if anyone had learned lessons about the hard realities of life, it was Mia. She’d had a pretty horrible year last year, having been sick with a life-threatening disease. I looked into her dark eyes and saw the tiniest hint of something I hadn’t seen before—an almost haunted look from unspoken traumas that I wasn’t privy to.
“But I’m going away anyway.” For some reason that I didn’t examine too closely, my voice trembled.
Mia took a step toward me. “I’m sorry I’m being a pain. But…William means a lot to me, and I’m going to be the one picking up the pieces when you leave. Don’t hurt him, okay?”
“I don’t want to hurt him, Mia.” And it was true. I had no desire to hurt him.
But I did want to be the one to pop William’s very delicious cherry. Why not? He had to lose it sometime, and if the kisses we’d shared had been any indication, it could be very, very fun.
There was a tap at the door. Thinking it was William, I decided to end this awkward exchange. “Come in!”
The door open and another dark-haired man—who actually looked a lot like William—poked his head in. “You ready to go?” Adam said. “I really need to get home and crash.”
Mia turned to him with a grin. “Oh, did all that beer finally catch up with you? Poor baby…even if you do fall asleep right away, you’re going to be up half the night peeing it all out.”
Adam’s mouth curved in a lopsided smile, and he looked at her with sleepy eyes filled with love. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
Mia laughed so hard she snorted, and Adam and I both teased her about it as we headed to the living room. It was as she said. Heath was passed out on the floor with drawings on every inch of his exposed skin. Someone had given him a wicked Victorian-style handlebar mustache and pointed goatee, along with Vulcan eyebrows and a pirate-style eye patch drawn over one eye. He had writing all over his arms, neck and even the part of his stomach where his t-shirt rode up and showed his belly.
I laughed. “Man is he going to be pissed when he wakes up and sees that.”
“Meh…” Mia shrugged. “Serves him right for getting so hammered.”
I studied Mia’s best friend on the floor. “Connor’s leaving to go back to Ireland soon, isn’t he? Maybe Heath really needed to get drunk. Are they breaking up?”
Mia looked at him with concerned eyes. “I’m not clear on all the details of what’s going on between them. Heath’s not talking much. But we should make sure he’s not alone for the next little while.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “I officially want no part of babysitting him. Kat can do it. She’s his roommate.”
William walked in from the direction of the bathroom and stood quietly beside me.
Adam and Mia offered Kat a ride home, which she enthusiastically accepted.
“Can you make sure Heath makes it home all right tomorrow?” Mia asked her as they walked out.
“Yeah. I’ll come get his hopeless ass.”
They bid us goodbye and then left. With Heath passed out on the floor, William and I were the only two conscious people in the living room.
“So, um, will I see you tomorrow at the regional market?” I asked him, already knowing the answer.
William brightened. “Yes, I have to deliver some items to clan members. I’ve been in the workshop all week after work.”
Suddenly, I envisioned him hammering away, biceps bulging and flexing, wearing nothing but his leather apron over those jeans.
“Would you like a ride there?” His innocuous question jolted me out of my lust-filled vision.
I swallowed, then glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “Sure…how about we share some breakfast first?”
“How early would you like me to come get you for breakfast?”
I bit my lip, flummoxed by his oversight of my obvious hint. Then I stepped toward him, took his large hand in mine and said, “You could just…stay the night.”
His reaction was subtle. With his eyes fixed on our interlocked hands, his dark brows lowered as if in concentration. “I’m not certain what you are asking, but I have an idea. And if it’s the wrong idea…”
“You’re not misreading me, okay? I want you to stay and spend the night with me.”
He visibly—and noisily—swallowed, and his fingers closed around my hand. “Well, as I told you in the bedroom, I haven’t been—”
“I know that. It doesn’t matter to me.” In fact, in som
e ways it made it even hotter. I found the idea of being his first powerfully arousing.
I took another step toward him so that my torso pressed against his. Angling my face up so that my lips were just a few inches from his, I said, “Did you feel it, too? When we were kissing?”
He exhaled, his breath tickling my nose. “Feel what?”
“That connection between us? The chemistry?”
“All I know is that it felt good.” His hand tightened around mine, almost painfully so. “And I want more.”
I brushed my lips against his. “Me too…so stay with me.”
He stood stock-still for a long moment, and I brought my hand around to brush along his back as if to further my case.
“No.” He said it with cold finality and completely divorced from emotion.
I frowned. “You don’t want to?”
“Oh, I want to.”
My lower abdomen brushed against him, and I felt it—he was erect again. I shamelessly used a little friction to sell him on the idea. “I want you, Wil.”
His head bent to rest on my shoulder. “I don’t want something temporary, Jenna. I want more than just once.”
I froze. William lifted his head, his gaze not quite catching mine before skating away and fixing on the middle of my forehead instead. I cleared my throat. “Well, it doesn’t have to be a one-night stand.”
He sighed, stepping back and releasing my hand. “I won’t have sex with you knowing that next week or next month you’ll be with someone else. If I have you, I want it to be permanent. Forever.”
I shook my head. “I don’t do permanent, William. Ever.”
He scowled. “I understand. Good night, Jenna.”
My jaw dropped. Was this really happening? When had a guy ever turned down my proposition to go to bed? I didn’t extend them often—I didn’t have to—but the answer was never ‘no.’ Not until this minute. What the hell?
William turned to leave, but my voice seemed to be caught in my throat. His rejection was hitting a lot harder than it should. I grabbed his hand. “Wait. Don’t you want to just…get it over with?”
He froze in his tracks, his body language stiff, but he didn’t pull his hand away from mine. Slowly, he turned back to me and said, “I’m surprised you don’t understand. You said in the bedroom that it means more to me than it does to other guys. Why would you think I’d ever want it to be something to ‘just get over with’? I’ve had that opportunity before and didn’t take it…” His voice died out and he shook his head forcefully. “Good night, Jenna,” he said, tugging his hand gently from mine. “I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty for the regional market tomorrow.”
For The One (Gaming The System Book 5) Page 13