Degrees of Passion

Home > Romance > Degrees of Passion > Page 9
Degrees of Passion Page 9

by Michelle M. Pillow


  Kevin lay on his back, staring at the subtle shifts of light on his dark ceiling. The television was on, but the volume had been muted. He loved watching documentaries on military history, but couldn’t seem to concentrate on the words. As pictures of WWII soldiers flashed on the screen, all he could think about was Sasha.

  The last weeks had been nothing like he hoped when he’d asked Professor Collins to let him be the fourth member of the Project Aztec internship. The man had been surprised but, since qualified candidates were sparse, he’d happily agreed. Kevin had seen Sasha’s name on the small list right next to her school records on the professor’s desk. Her grades were excellent but Collins had written several notes to himself about her lack of focus when it came to her future.

  Kevin tried to make conversation with Sasha several times, but failed miserably. He didn’t intend to be rude, but everything out of his mouth sounded forced. What was it about this woman? He couldn’t get her out of his mind. When he did get the chance to make friends and play nice, he came off like an ass quoting facts to show her up. What was next? Pushing her down and kicking dirt in her face like some second grader?

  Lifting the sheet draped over his naked waist, he peered at the tattoo on his hip. He drew a finger over the lines, pretending that he touched Sasha’s forearm. Every time he looked at the dark pattern, it reminded him of that night when she was his.

  Closing his eyes, he pressed his hand flat against his hip, letting his fingers curl along his flesh. The light scratch of his nails caused him to squirm. His feet became restless, sliding along the clean sheets covering the mattress.

  He let himself experience each sensation, trying to recapture the same feelings he had when he was with her. Desire stirred at the memory of her skin, the smell of her hair, the look in her eyes. The top sheet brushed along the tight sensitive flesh of his cock. When he finally took himself in hand, he wished it was her fingers in place of his.

  He wouldn’t be able to take much more of this internship. Having her so close, while having to maintain a respectable distance, was torture. The work was interesting and easy enough, if not a little tedious. He hadn’t been lying when he said it would fulfill his forensic anthropology requirements, but dating broken Aztec pottery wasn’t exactly his dream work.

  ‘Sasha,’ he whispered, gripping himself tighter. Each pass of his hand left a bittersweet longing in its wake. He needed more than a memory and the press of his palm against his cock. He needed to feel her, smell her, taste her. He needed to hear the sound of her voice as she made sweet noises of pleasure.

  Kevin continued to rub himself, picturing her hand in place of his, her fingers moving to the tip of his arousal. He let go long enough to grab a bottle of lotion from atop his nightstand, pausing to squirt several pumps into his palm, wetting it to add realism to his fantasy. His hips flexed and he shook. He imagined her wiggling into pos ition between his thighs, taking hold of his hips as she drew her tongue along his tip. She’d kiss him gently at first, twirling her warm tongue around and around, circling and teasing, before sucking him deep into her mouth.

  He thrust into his moist hand, groaning. Sasha had such a pretty mouth. He wanted it on him, taking his arousal deep, sucking so hard he almost lost himself with each pass. Her teeth would graze him, not hurting but enough to know they were there.

  He moaned, knowing no one could hear him. His second hand joined the first, gripping the root of his shaft and squeezing his balls as he continued to stroke himself. The harsh pant of his breath sounded over the bedroom.

  ‘Sasha,’ Kevin whispered again before biting his lip. His whole body tensed as he climaxed. The image of her slipped from his mind, leaving him utterly alone in the pleasured aftermath of release.

  An ache filled him, centering on his heart. Kevin put his hand on his chest, automatically feeling the long puckered scar that slashed his pectoral. He’d been alone for a long time. He did have some family, but it wasn’t the same as having a special someone. His fingers traced down, following it. The last time he’d got close to someone it had almost killed him. He’d promised himself he’d never let another woman touch his heart and he’d kept that promise. Until Sasha.

  It wasn’t the first time he wondered if his attraction to Sasha was because she was unavailable. Was he a glutton for punishment? A hopeless fool?

  Kevin didn’t have the answer. Logically, he should forget her and focus on finishing his degree. He was so close to his doctorate. A little more field study and then a year or two to write his dissertation and everything he worked for would be realized. He didn’t need the headache, or the heartache, of pursuing a woman with a boyfriend.

  ‘That’s what I’m going to do,’ he told himself. ‘Sasha’s just a student I have to work with. I’m going to refocus my efforts and forget about any romantic notions.’ He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. ‘Whatever I feel for her ends now.’

  A mocking laughter echoed from inside his mind, as if to sarcastically add, ‘Yeah, right, Kevin. Good luck with that, you fool.’

  Even though the hour was late and she had to be at Project Aztec early, Sasha refused to go to bed. So far, she averaged about fifty percent correct on answering Prichard’s little pop quizzes. Every time he’d asked something, she ran home, studied until her brain throbbed only to be asked something completely different the following morning. It was impossible to think that she could brush up on the in-depth workings of Incan, Mayan and Aztec cultures in two weeks – especially when she factored in her additional class load and part-time waitressing shifts. And really, the cultures were three distinctly different groups. Prichard only asked about them because he was a pompous ass.

  She couldn’t concentrate, as she looked at the unused webcam Trevor gave her as a parting gift. He’d left her a number to call him at in Switzerland and, despite the fact that she could little afford to keep making international calls, she picked up her cellular and dialed. It would be around eight in the morning his time.

  Sasha closed her eyes as it rang, anticipating his voice mail. Instead of Trevor’s face, she saw Kevin’s drifting through her troubled thoughts. What was wrong with her? Why this obsession? It had to be because he frustrated her. Even as she thought it, Sasha knew it wasn’t true. She was fascinated by him. She couldn’t read his expressions, couldn’t guess at his thoughts and the mystery of him made her want to know more. He was a puzzle she wanted to solve and, on a baser level, a man she wanted for her lover.

  ‘Buongiorno!’ Trevor answered.

  ‘Trevor?’ Sasha nearly jumped out of her chair to hear his voice. She swallowed nervously at having been thinking of Kevin as she called her boyfriend.

  ‘Sasha?’ He sounded surprised. ‘Hey, shouldn’t you be in bed?’

  ‘I wanted to call,’ she said. ‘I haven’t heard from you since you left. How’s Switzerland?’

  ‘Oh, I haven’t been yet. Some friends of the family invited me to spend a few weeks at their home in Italy before I start work.’ His voice got quiet and then grew, like he walked away from a crowd. ‘Didn’t I mention it? I could have sworn I told you before I left.’

  ‘No.’ Sasha shook her head in denial, even though he couldn’t see it. ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘Oh, I meant to. It was all decided very suddenly. How is your internship?’

  ‘Fine, it’s fine.’ Sasha stood, hugging her waist as she paced the small area of her living room, careful not to wake her roommates. ‘Which friends?’

  ‘People my father works with. You haven’t been introduced.’ He quickly changed the subject again. ‘How do you like the other people on the project?’

  ‘They’re fine. Which people your father works with?’ Sasha knew she sounded like the jealous girlfriend, but she couldn’t help it. Didn’t he owe her an explanation? It wasn’t as if they’d only been dating a few weeks. This wasn’t the first time he went off on one of his family’s trips without her. It wasn’t even the first time he’d left for months at a time
, but something felt different about this time. Maybe it was the fact he was so close to graduation and prepared for a job with his father. He could be settling down and getting serious about his future. That was sure to cause anyone to be distracted.

  ‘A group of us came – Timothy Jasper, Ronnie and Reggie Vanderhill, Dean Carmichael, Edward Rockman.’ Trevor made a small noise of dismissal. ‘Really, no one else you might have heard of, mostly European families. Oh, listen, darling, I have to run. They’re waiting on me for breakfast. We’re going to this quaint little café Reggie found. I promise to call you in the next couple of weeks, once I’m settled in the new job. We can try out that webcam.’

  ‘Wait, I really need to talk to you—’ The sound of him hanging up stopped her words. She felt sick to her stomach. Edward Rockman? As in Cynthia’s father? Sasha found herself biting the back of her hand. Was Cynthia there? Is that why he hung up? So she wouldn’t hear who was in the background?

  Sasha didn’t like being suspicious or insecure, but Trevor’s distant behavior and poor treatment of her as of late didn’t give her much reason not to be. Was she being overly sensitive? Or was there really something to worry about? In this moment, she had a choice. She could let herself wallow in the pain and uncertainty, or she could take a stand now and let Trevor know what he had to lose.

  Sasha didn’t allow herself time to think about it. She picked up the phone and redialed. A fat, hot tear rolled over her cheek, dripping down her neck. She didn’t bother to wipe it away. What was the point?

  Trevor didn’t answer and she couldn’t help but think him a coward for not talking to her directly. After all the time they’d been together, after he’d begged her to take him back, this is how he acted? Anguish rolled through her, filling her heart and knotting her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she’d throw up or scream. But this had to be done. As his voicemail came on, cheerfully urging messages with a doubtful promise of returning the call if he got around to it, she took a deep, agonised breath.

  ‘Trevor,’ she said the second it started recording. ‘I don’t like the way you’ve been treating me and I don’t like the fact that you’ve been hiding out in Italy with Cynthia Rockman’s family. You think I wouldn’t know that . . .’ She didn’t finish the thought. Now was the time for calm and rational. ‘It’s not just the whole business about not telling me about Europe. It’s these last months. I feel you pulling away. And your mother, you could have stood up to her more when she started in about that débutante business, especially after the last time. When we got back together you promised me it would be different, better. Do you remember? This isn’t feeling better. You said you wanted to be your own man, but then you’re there. And I like my tattoo. I’m tired of you telling me to get rid of it. I thought you loved me for me, but . . .’ Sasha made a weak noise. She should have written out what she wanted to say to him because the words were coming in a jumbled mess. But, had she written it, she would have lost her nerve. No, this way was best. ‘You’ve been distant and . . . You know, I think you should spend your time there deciding what you really want. I’ll be doing the same. You do what you have to do and we’ll talk when you get back, or maybe sooner, but most likely when you get back. Sorry to leave this on voicemail, but you should have . . . I think this break will do us both some good.’ She started to hang up, only to stop. ‘Um, Trevor, take care of yourself. I’ll talk to you later.’

  Sasha hung up the phone and dropped it on the floor, sucking hard breaths of air into her lungs. Her heart beat fast and heavy against the walls of her chest. ‘Oh, fuck. What did I do? Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Fuck. What did I do?’

  I see a boot, her mother’s words came back to her. It’s kicking the number two.

  Sasha frowned. Italy was shaped like a boot on every map she’d ever seen. She glanced at the clock. Two-twenty two in the morning. She shook her head in denial, not wanting to dwell on this point. What happened was her conscious choice, not preordained.

  Her phone rang and she jumped. The unique sound indicated she’d received a text message. Trembling, she flipped open her phone. It was from Trevor. IF YOU THINK THAT’S BEST.

  Sasha stared at the emotionless words, as if more would magically appear behind them. She looked for a sign of regret, of anger, of hope, of relief. The cold text gave her no hint beyond an ambivalence that hurt worse than rejection.

  ‘If you think that’s best,’ she read again. ‘If you think that’s best? What the hell is that? Way to fight for me, Trevor.’ Sasha gripped her phone tight, lifting her arm to toss it across the room. She made the motion, but stopped short of actually releasing it.

  Sasha took a cleansing breath and then another, willing the thick lump out of her throat. After the initial shock of what she’d done subsided, she felt a weight being lifted off her shoulders. No matter how hard it was to let him go, she had to be strong. It was like her father often said, ‘An easy path does not make a right one.’ Tomorrow she might regret her actions, but tonight she’d focus on the strength it took her to do them.

  Exhausted and knowing she’d never be able to sleep, Sasha grabbed Jo’s bag off the floor and dug into the side pocket. Pulling out a bottle of sleep aids her roommate kept there, she studied it for a moment before taking out two of them. Right now, she’d sleep. Tomorrow she would face what she’d done.

  Chapter Six

  Sasha rolled her shoulder as she looked up at the laboratory ceiling. She’d been staring at the broken piece of Aztec pottery for hours, brushing dirt from the grooves one monotonous stroke after another. The recurring rhythm of her job played in her head – brush-brush-look, brush-brush-look. At times, it was hard to tell which part was pottery and which part was dirt.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s already Thursday. We’re almost done with our first month.’ Kevin sat down next to her. ‘It’s going faster than I thought it would.’

  ‘Don’t even tell me how many more weeks of this we have left,’ Sasha answered, trying to keep her concentration on what she was doing. ‘I don’t want to know.’

  ‘How’s the work going?’ His words lacked enthusiasm. He leaned over to check her work. ‘Not a very interesting piece, is it?’

  Sasha glanced over to the twins. They worked on a small figurine and an elaborate pulque vessel from a richer household. She got the undecorated domestic jar. Again. Not wanting to sound disgruntled over her assignment, she said to Kevin, ‘I don’t know. I guess it depends on what you think is interesting.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Kevin’s brow furrowed as he reached to take the small brush from her hand. She flexed her finger, purposefully grazing against him. He didn’t seem to notice the small advance. Sasha wasn’t even sure why she’d done it. Taking a break from Trevor gave her a freedom she didn’t have before. She recalled all too well what happened last time she and Trevor were on a break. Knowing she should be feeling guilty, she slid off her chair, out of Kevin’s way as he began brushing along a crack. ‘Did you see this?’

  ‘Just a crack. I thought it might be a marking, but . . .’ She pointed along the broken edge. ‘See here. You can follow it around to the—’

  Kevin turned and his breath hit her cheek. Sasha pulled away, all too aware of where his lips were in proximity to hers. The last days had been tense and emotional. Nervous, she reached for a clipboard and began filling in the blanks on the artefact’s log sheet.

  ‘I think we can move on as soon as it’s cataloged,’ he said.

  ‘Any chance you can acquire a figurine or maybe even an incense burner for us to look at?’ Sasha glanced at him, stopping short of saying you’re the teacher’s pet. I’m sure you can score us something cool.

  ‘I thought you said you found this interesting.’ For the first time that day, a small smile curled the side of his mouth.

  ‘I just said, it depends on what you think is interesting. I didn’t say I found it interesting.’

  ‘So you don’t?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ Sasha met his steady gaze, coy
ly arching a brow. To her surprise, she realized she was flirting with him. She couldn’t help herself.

  ‘Do you?’ He straightened, glancing around the room, as if checking to make sure they weren’t being watched.

  Sasha licked her lips, keeping her eyes on Kevin’s handsome face. She heard the twins working on their project, arguing about the best area to retrieve shards for analysis and an archival sample. Since they were only doing the initial cleaning and logging, the argument was futile.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but Kevin stopped her. ‘I think you’re ringing.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Sasha stiffened, confused.

  ‘Your phone.’ Kevin motioned under the table to where her messenger bag rested. ‘Better answer it before Prichard gets back.’

  ‘Oh!’ Sasha hurried to grab her phone. The sound of the ring indicated a text message rather than a call. She felt her stomach tighten in irritation at the sound. The last text message she’d gotten had been Trevor’s not so gallant IF YOU THINK THAT’S BEST a couple weeks earlier. He hadn’t tried to contact her since. It had been a month since she’d seen him and she wasn’t as lonely for him as she might have expected. Sasha dug through the bag for her phone, flipping it open as she pulled it out. Her gaze darted to instantly read the name. In barely contained relief, she said, ‘It’s my sister. My mom’s been driving her crazy with trying to get her to help decorate.’

  ‘She can’t predict what colours to use?’ Kevin gave a small laugh.

  ‘You’d think.’ Sasha hurried and text messaged her sister back, telling her to deal with it. ‘Personally, I think it’s an excuse to see her only grandchild.’

  ‘I remember you saying you had a big family. Five sisters, right? And two brothers-in-law.’ He busied himself brushing the broken pottery.

  ‘You remember that?’ she asked, surprised.

  ‘I recall everything you said. You have five sisters, Megan, the oldest and a cop, married to a photographer. Kat, the mother and photographer, married to the noted Dr Richmond. Zoe, the chef working as a bartender. You and your rich boyfriend. Ella in the Navy.’ He blew lightly at the piece and Sasha watched his lips, captivated.

 

‹ Prev