“The detectives are going to want you to come in again for further questioning. They may put you into a lineup for some of those eyewitnesses. It’s best if we expect that.”
“I’m scared.” She hadn’t meant for her voice to quiver like that.
He got up and came across the patio. Hunkering down beside her chair, he took off his sunglasses. His eyes sought hers. She saw again how clear they were, how deep-sea blue. Her heart began to bang against her breastbone as he held her gaze.
“It’ll be okay, Macy. You’ll see. It won’t be like your arraignment yesterday. I’ll be right there with you the whole time. Stop worrying now or you won’t be able to enjoy this delicious lunch I’ve made for us.” His hand grasped her shoulder for a moment, and then he rose and went into the house.
After he left, she took a deep breath and ran her fingers back through her hair, shaking it loose. She’d been right to come back down, to trust him. The man was just trying to be helpful. Whatever had passed between them earlier in the kitchen must have been all in her head.
And other parts of her body.
Chapter 3
“I wanted to thank you again for letting me use your laptop. It really helped to be able to check my email and Facebook, say hi to my friends.” Macy smiled up at Jerrod.
“You’re welcome. I should have thought of it earlier.”
“I would have brought my own laptop along, but it’s in the repair shop.”
“Ah. Here we are.” He pointed ahead.
They rounded the corner of the parking garage and were now facing the river. Two blocks away, on a wide strip of grass next to the seawall, she could see throngs of people moving between a dozen small white tents and a portable stage. Snatches of music drifted on the night air, and the mysterious smells of ethnic food made her mouth water. As they got closer she heard a voice on a loud speaker announcing the next band to play.
“Am I walking too fast for you?” He looked pointedly at her sandals.
“No. I’m fine.” She smiled.
He carried a thick, plaid blanket over his right arm, creating an effective barrier between their bodies as they made their way along the sidewalk, but she was aware again of his tall strength, his unique masculine smell. They crossed the street and found the main entrance. A guy with yellow dreadlocks checked their ID, giving Jerrod an orange wristband and her a white one, since she was under drinking age.
They wandered for a while, and then stopped at a food booth where he bought teriyaki chicken on long skewers. Leaning on the seawall, she watched the dark river while she ate her snack. He named the bridges they could see from there, alight with traffic, and pointed out several local landmarks. The whole city seemed to be alive with movement and color, with the warm night air and the sound of music and laughter.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, resting her arms on the concrete balustrade. “Nothing like the town where I grew up.”
“Yes. Portland is an amazing little city.” But when she glanced over at him, he wasn’t looking at the view. His eyes were locked on her. Half in shadow, his face was inscrutable, but she saw his lips tighten and flex as if he wanted to say something else. Her heart skipped a beat or two, and she couldn’t maintain her gaze.
“The chicken was really good,” she finally said, holding up the empty bamboo skewer.
Now he glanced away for a moment too, then back at her.
“Would you like more?”
“No, thanks. But maybe something cold to drink.”
“All right.”
They wandered again, on the look-out now for a beverage vendor.
Suddenly a dark shape loomed up beside her. At the same time, her nose was assailed with the stench of fetid body odor and layers of stale alcohol.
“Hey, baby.” The homeless man’s speech was slurred as he gripped her arm. She stared up into his grizzled face, panic rising in a sickening wave.
“Let me go,” she cried, trying to pull away. But her voice came out like a little girl’s.
The man grinned, his yellowed teeth like broken pegs in the rotten slash of his mouth. He jerked her closer, his breath hot on her neck.
“Back off, friend.” Before the stranger could say or do anything further, Jerrod stepped in between them, freeing her arm and shielding her from the stranger’s assault. With an air of gentle authority he gripped the older man by the shoulders, pointed him in the opposite direction, and gave him a nudge. The man staggered away into the crowd.
Jerrod turned to her, his arm encircling her shoulder. He studied her face.
“I’m sorry, Macy, I should have warned you. We’re close to the homeless shelters in this part of town. Most of those folks are harmless, but it can be startling. Are you okay?”
She nodded, a tingling warmth seeping into her from the close body contact and the relief of being rescued. Adrenalin still pumped like crazy through her body. Was that why she felt so light-headed?
“Don’t let it worry you. I won’t let anything happen to you. Come on. Let’s find those drinks and then listen to some good music.”
He gave her an encouraging smile, and she found herself smiling back. The whole incident, scary as it was, had been resolved so quickly that it almost seemed now like a bad dream. She felt euphoric…and grateful. Jerrod Preston could apparently handle anything.
His arm slid away from her shoulders, but his hand closed around hers and he led her through the crowd to the food tent. A few minutes later, drinks in hand, they arrived at a spot of open grass in front of the main stage. On the platform, a five piece band was tuning up. He spread the blanket and motioned for her to sit down. Glad she’d decided to wear jeans and a t-shirt instead of the sundress, Macy sat down cross-legged and reached up to take both paper cups from him.
Their fingers brushed, and a renewed awareness streaked through her. She had noticed his hands earlier today as he tended the barbeque. They were broad and strong, with a sprinkling of fine dark hair on the back. Very masculine hands. They reminded her of the naughty feelings she’d been trying all day to suppress, feelings of wanting those hands to touch her. Now she allowed those feelings to seep fully into her consciousness. Intensified by gratitude for her recent rescue, she was flooded with raucous sensations of sexual desire. She’d never felt anything as powerful or enticing.
He folded his legs and sat beside her. She handed him the cup of wine. Their eyes met above the rim of the glass, and this time she made herself hold his gaze. Letting her lips soften and open slightly, she dared to invite him into her imaginings.
His brows shot up.
* * * *
At the unmistakable come-hither look on her face, Jerrod’s primal instincts kicked in big time. Self-preservation warred with the raw urge to grab Macy Wilson, lay her back on the blanket, and ravish her right here. The girl was staring at him with her big gray eyes slumberous and inviting, her lush lips parted, practically begging for his kiss. There was no misinterpreting it. She was coming on to him.
Damn it! This was his own fault. He’d struggled all day to keep his cock out of the mix. He’d hoped she hadn’t caught on to his inappropriate feelings for her, but apparently he hadn’t hidden those feelings as well as he thought.
“Macy—”
“Yes?” She leaned toward him. He felt the brush of her breath on his cheek.
“We can’t do this.” He made his voice very firm, the way he would have talked to Allie.
“Do what?” Now she was toying with him, wasn’t she? Making him say it out loud. He realized with a jolt that he wanted to; he wanted to say her name and the word “fuck” in the same sentence!
With his admission, his cock hardened. He glanced around them. More people were finding seats on the grass nearby, the members of the band were taking their places onstage. He only had to hold out for another minute or so and the music would start. Any suggestive conversation would then be out of the question.
“You know what I mean,” he said. “Your dad’s
an old friend of mine.”
“So?” Big eyed innocence, slow, alluring drawl. “I’m an adult.”
He shook his head. It was sad, really. He’d built his reputation on his eloquence in the courtroom, but here tonight it seemed he’d already run out of arguments.
She leaned closer and whispered, “Is there some big rule that says you can’t have sex with a client?”
Holy shit! There it was. She was giving him an out, if he wanted to use it.
There weren’t any state statutes forbidding it, provided both parties were over eighteen and capable of giving consent, but she didn’t know that. He could lie and tell her there were laws against it. It might be enough to discourage her flirtations and allow them to keep things on a more professional basis.
Jerrod stared into her big, dark eyes.
He couldn’t lie to her. Hell, he didn’t want to.
“No big rule,” he whispered.
Her lips were right there, inches away, ripe and soft, and—God help him—he bent his head and took what she was offering.
Snaking his hand into the satin curls at the back of her neck, he brought her face up to his and brushed his mouth across her lips. Gently at first, barely touching her, feeling her excited breath mingle with his own.
On stage, the band led off with a classic piece of southern blues. A black female singer with a rich, strong voice began to wail about the treacherous heart of her lover. Feeling the plaintive tones of the song surging through him, he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between Macy’s yielding lips. She opened to him, and he thrust his tongue inside her warm, wet mouth. Several bold strokes and then he withdrew, his blood racing. He heard her whimper above the music. Lifting his head, he glanced around again. No one was paying the least bit of attention. Though the stage was well lit, this grassy area below lay in shadow.
He lowered his mouth again, pressing little nips along her jawline, drawing away once more, teasing her with his lips until she put an impatient hand on his thigh. He froze. He glanced down. In the dark, he could barely make out the lighter tones of her skin against the indigo of his jeans. As he began to thrust his tongue inside her warm mouth again, her fingers inched up his thigh and cupped his erection.
A groan rose in his throat, but probably only Macy heard it. Her hand moved shyly over the sensitive bulge, pressing and molding it with her fingers. She squeezed him and put her little tongue into his mouth.
It was apparent she hadn’t kissed many guys. The explorations of her fingers and tongue were awkward and experimental. At nineteen, she probably hadn’t been with a lot of men. He wasn’t complaining, only noticing. But then she reached out and grabbed his free hand and brought it to her breast.
He had a brief impression of soft round flesh, topped with a firm protrusion, before he pulled his hand away. He had to. Things were moving way too fast and this was a public place. But God, yes, he did want to hold those sweet breasts of hers in his hands. And more. It was the “and more” that really worried him.
“Not here,” he said into her ear as he removed her hand from his groin.
“Then where?” Her breath tickled his cheek.
“I thought we came to hear some music.”
“I’m ready to leave now.”
“Are you sure? The band’s just getting started,” he hedged, giving her every chance to back out.
“I don’t care.”
In ten minutes they were back at his car on the second floor of the parking garage. He unlocked and opened her door, but instead of getting in, she reached up for him, weaving her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her.
“Tell me you want to touch me again,” she said, her voice low and provocative. Her gray eyes searched his face. She rubbed her breasts against his chest and then she leaned back, giving him access.
“Oh, God. I do want to touch you, Macy.” He moved his hands up her ribcage and closed them over the firm mounds. Through her soft t-shirt he could plainly feel the excited tips pressing into his palms. He licked his lips, yearning to taste her.
“Go ahead,” she whispered, reading his desire. She leaned back against the side of the car, stretching her arms above her head. She gave him a lazy, sexy smile.
He stood for a moment, at war with himself, and then he shoved her t-shirt up, baring her breasts. They were perfect, as he knew they would be. Her dusky nipples stood at attention, offering him sweet bits of turgid flesh to suck. He lowered his mouth and ran his tongue over the warm, pebbled surface.
God. She tasted like vanilla.
He closed his lips on her nipple and began to suckle and tug at it gently, using the edge of his teeth on her silky flesh. She gave a husky little cry.
“Ssh.” He put his finger to her lips. Her tongue flicked out, licking the length of his finger suggestively.
Damn. He wanted her. Right here in the parking garage. Wanted to drag her jeans off and take her on the edge of the front seat, facing him in the open doorway. She’d spread her legs for him and he’d plunge his hard cock into her hot pussy.
Oh yeah. Here and now.
The images cartwheeled in urgent flashes through his head, exciting him further.
He suckled her breast like a starving man, using his fingers to tease her other nipple. He pinched the little bump of warm flesh, kneading until she cried out again. Then his other hand dove for her crotch.
Just then the squeal of tires on concrete told them a car was coming down from an upper floor of the garage. He jerked her shirt down and herded her into her seat as a police cruiser rounded the corner and came toward them. Jerrod gave a short wave to the officer as he closed Macy’s door and sauntered around to his own side. The officer nodded and drove on.
Jerrod collapsed into the front seat, leaning his forehead on the steering wheel. Had he gone completely crazy? Exposing her that way when anyone could have walked through! They’d come damn close to being caught. How could he ever have explained that to Chuck? His old buddy would pummel him to a bloody pulp. And God knows he’d deserve it.
He felt her hand close on his thigh, stroking up toward his groin.
“Hey,” she said softly, “let’s go back to your house.”
He covered her hand with his own, trapping it before she could touch his cock.
“Like I said earlier, Macy, this is not a good idea.”
“But I want you to make love to me.”
He turned and looked at her. In the shadowy car her face was open, trusting. So sexy. His cock lurched, still wanting to find its home inside her warm body.
“You don’t want someone like me.” Using his last scrap of self-control, he picked her hand up and moved it back to her side. “I’m a middle-aged man, Macy. You should be with someone your own age. A guy who would take you out dancing, do fun, crazy, young-people stuff.”
She shook her head and smiled.
“You don’t get it, Jerrod. You’re exactly what I want right now. Someone with experience. Someone to teach me everything.” Her fingers strayed up and touched the side of his face, smoothing his hair back and feathering against his temple like moth wings.
A shocking thought caromed through his head.
“Oh my God. Are you a virgin?” It was worse than he had imagined. Thank God he’d stopped himself when he had.
She nodded. “Please don’t say no. Please.”
“No,” he growled, and shoved his key into the ignition.
Chapter 4
They rode in silence through the city streets, the windows down, the night air cooling Jerrod’s face. His pulse had almost returned to normal. After a few minutes Macy gave a heavy sigh.
“Please don’t tell my dad.”
He twisted his head toward her and scowled. “Why in God’s name would I do that?”
Her fingers fiddled with the little handbag she carried. Finally she answered in a small voice, never taking her eyes off her hands. “Because I threw myself at you. You were just trying to help me, and I totally took advanta
ge of how nice you were being. I’m so sorry.”
She looked up, and her big gray eyes sought his face.
Was she serious?
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Macy.”
Guilty relief flooded his body. He was off the hook! The girl thought it had been all her idea. Not only that, but if she would just back off now, he just might be able to keep his hands off her until the trial.
“Then you’ll still be my lawyer?” Her voice quivered.
“Of course I will. We’ll just remember to keep things a little more professional between us from here on, won’t we?” He heard the patronizing tone of his own voice. God, he was an asshole! Again he was speaking to her as he would to an errant child.
“Oh. Good. I’m so relieved. I don’t know what I’d do if you fired me as a client.”
He chuckled. “I’ve never fired a client, and if I was ever going to, I wouldn’t start with you.”
“Good.” She sent him a tremulous smile.
Silence descended again. He began to feel more expansive now as his guilt lifted. He was eager to make her feel comfortable again.
“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” he said after a moment. “Would you like to go shopping or see a movie? Maybe go to the art museum? We have a good one here.”
She was thoughtful for a moment.
“Could we just stay home? Maybe just watch a movie on TV or something?”
He hesitated. Being in the close confines of the house with her would test his mettle.
“Fine,” he said after a minute. “I have quite a bit of paperwork to catch up on, so I may spend part of the day in my home office. But you can order any movie you’d like on pay-per-view.”
“You won’t watch with me? It’s always more fun to watch with a friend.”
A friend? Is that how she wanted to think of him now? He wasn’t her friend. No true friend would have such raunchy urges warring in his body. But “friend” was certainly better than where they had been heading.
“Maybe. I can’t promise.”
“Oh.” Her face fell. He longed to reach over and squeeze her hand, but knew that any body contact between them would just be asking for trouble. He wouldn’t want her to misinterpret something meant as a comforting gesture.
Macy's Awakening Page 3