by Kate Hewitt
“I completely agree. And while I have to confess I found you irresistible in said pantsuit, I think I’d like to see you in something like this.” He held up a wool sweater dress in a rich purple, and Louise felt herself weaken. The dress looked gorgeous and soft, and was actually something she could wear to work. “Will you try it on?” Jaiven asked quietly. “Please?”
The fact that he asked, and asked nicely, startled Louise, and made her realize just what about this whole episode had got up her nose. Jack used to tell her what to wear. Or more precisely, what not to wear, which was just about anything she owned.
The one time she had dressed up in something sexy, hoping to please him—well, that had resulted in the little scar on her eyebrow.
She reached for the dress, determined to banish any memories of her ex-husband. Jaiven was not Jack. She knew that.
But you’re still Louise.
She strode into the dressing room, hating that memories of Jack, and memories of how she’d been with Jack, were encroaching on her time with Jaiven. This fling was supposed to liberate her, not trap her with old memories, haunt her with old fears she’d managed to mostly suppress for the past decade.
Yet the more she got to know Jaiven, the more she showed him of herself—the more she felt the old fear and need and desperation.
Exasperated with herself and her circling thoughts, she stripped off her jeans and sweater and slipped on the sweater dress. The soft cashmere hugged her curves, and while she had no control-top underwear to keep everything in, Louise saw that she didn’t really need it. This dress was made for someone curvy, someone who had something to show, and God knew she had plenty.
A rustle of the curtains behind her had her half turning. “Now that,” Jaiven said as he stepped into the dressing room, “is what I call a dress.”
He stepped behind her and smoothed his hands down her hips before sliding the sumptuous fabric upward. Louise’s mouth dried as she recalled just what his fantasy had been.
“You can’t be serious…”
“Oh yes, I can.”
Excitement licked through her veins as Jaiven pulled the dress up to her hips. She caught sight of their reflections in the full-length mirror, his eyes glowing amber and hers dazed with desire. Both of their faces flushed. “The sales assistant…” she began.
“Is back at the cash register. I told her we’d be a little while.” He slid the dress higher, to her waist, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror. “But do you really care about the sales assistant, Louise?”
“No,” she whispered. She watched in the mirror as he slipped his hand down to her thighs. Her face was flushed, her lips parted, her hair wild.
“I think this is your fantasy, too,” he whispered. “I think you want to see yourself as you are in the mirror.” He was pressing against her, slipping his fingers inside her underwear as he nodded at their reflection. “See that woman there?” he whispered. “She’s beautiful. Sexy. Confident.”
Mesmerized, Louise gazed at their reflections, watched the way her hips rocked against his hand.
“She’s you, Louise,” Jaiven told her. “I don’t think you can believe it, even now.”
“Maybe I can’t,” Louise answered, the words drawn from her, impossible to suppress. She knew he was right. “Maybe I needed you to show me.”
Jaiven’s eyes blazed fiercely and he lowered his head to press a kiss to the nape of her neck. Louise shuddered. “You need me,” he said, an almost-savage satisfaction in his voice, and she nodded, everything in her focused on the pressure and pleasure building inside her.
“I need you, Jaiven.”
He backed her up to the wall, unbuckling his trousers with one hand as he reached into his pocket for a condom with the other. He couldn’t move fast enough, as far as Louise was concerned. She helped him put the condom on, making him laugh softly, and then finally, finally, he was inside her, moving with a rhythm she matched with ease, her legs wrapped around his waist.
Fifteen minutes later he presented his platinum credit card to the sales assistant with a composed smile while Louise fussed with her hair and tried not to smile like the proverbial cat who had eaten the cream. She was a very satisfied customer.
Just the memory of Jaiven’s touch had heat racing through her again. He slid her a knowing glance and Louise almost laughed. It was heady and wonderful to be wanted so much. She couldn’t quite believe it was true, and yet Jaiven seemed intent on showing her how much he wanted her. How beautiful and bold he thought she was.
But it will end soon. You know that. And it’s just sex. It’s not like he knows you, or even wants to know you.
And yet the memory of how he’d spoken to her in the dressing room, how he’d understood what she’d needed and how he could give it to her—how he’d been glad she needed him…
That hadn’t felt like just sex.
Except of course it had been, Louise reminded herself. He’d had his hand in her pants at the time, after all.
It was just her being stupid, making it into something more. Really stupid, because she wasn’t even supposed to want that.
They left the shop, enjoying the warm spring day, the blue skies and bright sunshine that poured over Madison Avenue and made the sidewalks sparkle, the daffodils and tulips that clustered around the fenced-in trees bobbing their bright heads in the breeze.
“How about some lunch?” Jaiven said, swinging the shopping bags that held several other dresses; she was wearing the purple cashmere. Surprised pleasure rippled through her at his suggestion. She hadn’t really expected anything more than a quickie in the dressing room.
Jaiven’s look was bland, and she decided not to test it. She’d just enjoy this time with him, and whatever it had to offer.
Even if that’s incredibly stupid? Unbelievably dangerous?
She couldn’t want more with Jaiven. Falling for him in even the smallest degree would end in disaster. She knew that. He was totally the wrong type for her, and she was pretty sure she was nothing more than a novelty to him.
But it was just lunch.
“Okay,” she said, and they walked down Madison Avenue till they hit an upscale diner, the kind with twenty-dollar burgers and signature lemonade.
“A little classy for my taste,” Jaiven murmured, “but I’ll go with it.”
A waitress led them to a booth with deep seats in red leather, and handed them huge menus. Louise half hid behind hers, because she might have had crazy sex with this man, but when it came to sitting across from him in a restaurant and actually talking, she was a little shy. This felt a little too normal, a little too much like a date.
“I hope,” Jaiven said as Louise gazed blindly at the menu, “you’re not going to order a salad and pick at it.”
She glanced at him over the top of the menu, her eyebrows raised. “And if I was?”
“I’d have to force-feed you a hamburger.”
Instinctively she prickled. “Having you boss me around is not part of any fantasy of mine, Jaiven.”
He cocked his head, his lazy gaze sweeping over her with too much consideration. “I was joking, Louise. But clearly it’s a sore point.”
Duh. Of course he was joking. And she’d just sounded like an idiot. “I’m a feminist,” she answered, just a bit too late. “Any woman would feel the same.”
She didn’t think he was going to buy it, but then he just shrugged and said, “You didn’t actually answer the question. Are you the kind of woman who always orders a salad?”
“No.” She suppressed the flicker of disappointment she felt that he was backing off. Irrational to feel it, when that was exactly what she’d wanted him to do. What she needed him to do. “I like a hamburger on occasion, as long as it comes with bacon and cheese.”
“Now you’re talking.”
The waitress came up to their table and they both ordered burgers. She collected their menus and then left them alone; it felt awkward and yet also weirdly comfortable, which Louise knew made no sense.
> “So.” Jaiven laced his hands behind his head, surveyed her thoughtfully. “Women’s Studies Professor.”
Warily, Louise nodded. The last thing she’d expected was for Jaiven to talk about her job. Was he actually trying to get to know her?
“How’d that come about?”
Apparently he was. “Umm…” And actually it was a loaded question, even if Jaiven couldn’t know that. When she’d taken her first feminist theory course at Columbia, twenty-one years old and battered in both body and heart, she’d felt as if she’d been given the keys to a kingdom. To freedom, both from the way she’d viewed the world and herself.
But she wasn’t about to explain how a woman who had allowed herself to be abused physically and emotionally for over two years ended up as a tenured professor of Women’s Studies. None of her colleagues or students even knew her history. Coming to New York had been about starting over. Forgetting.
Even if Louise knew there were some things you could never forget.
Now she shrugged an answer. “I’m interested in the subject.”
“So am I, but probably in a different way than you are.” He gave her a teasing smile and Louise rolled her eyes even as she smiled back.
“That was so predictable. I’ve come to expect better from you.”
“Sorry.” He spread his hands, not remotely repentant. “I just couldn’t resist.”
“Hmm.” She pursed her lips, gave him a mocking shake of her head. Was she actually flirting?
“Seriously, though.”
“I didn’t think we were doing serious,” she shot back, before she could help herself. She felt prickly all of a sudden, and she wasn’t sure why. She didn’t like talking about her past. Didn’t want to call up those memories. She certainly didn’t want to share them with Jaiven.
“Defensive much?” Jaiven countered mildly. “It’s called conversation, Louise. Otherwise known as chitchat. But I’m relieved you’re determined to keep within the boundaries of our agreement.”
“I’m not even sure what our agreement is.”
He shrugged expansively. “We can negotiate, of course, but I thought we were exploring each other’s sexual fantasies.” He leaned forward, his mouth curving in sensual expectation. “And it’s your turn next.”
“I don’t have any other fantasies.” She sounded ridiculously prim, and Jaiven guffawed.
“Yeah, right.”
Actually, Louise thought suddenly, she had a fantasy of a different life, a life that had love and laughter and maybe even a kid or two. A normal life, with a family and a house and even a frickin’ dog. Some part of her wanted the white picket deal, even though she didn’t like to admit it to herself. She sure as hell wouldn’t admit it to Jaiven.
In any case, that most definitely wasn’t the kind of fantasy he was talking about. “What?” she said. “You want me to dream up something involving handcuffs and whipped cream?”
“That could be interesting.”
“Seriously, Jaiven.” She shook her head, forced herself to confront the truth she knew she wanted to ignore. “This whole fantasy thing can only go so far.” And maybe it had gone far enough.
He arched an eyebrow. “I know you said you were inexperienced, Louise, but this is a bit much. We haven’t even touched the tip of the iceberg, fantasywise.”
“Maybe for you.”
“And for you, sweetheart.” He gave her a knowing grin that suddenly, inexplicably made her furious.
“Don’t tell me what I know,” she nearly spat. “Don’t ever think you know better than I do about myself.”
Jaiven blinked, clearly surprised by her vitriol, just as Louise was. Where had that come from? Well, duh. From surviving two years of someone doing just that, all the time.
And while she’d told herself she’d put her ex-husband’s controlling behavior—and her shaming response—behind her, maybe she hadn’t. Maybe being with Jaiven was calling it up again, because he was getting too close. Making her want to know him. Making her want to care, which meant giving him control.
And she could not have that. She could not go down that awful road again.
“Okay,” he said after a moment. “I’m thinking you might have some kind of control fantasy. A little sub-dom thing going on? Forget the whipped cream, but we could go with the handcuffs. Or maybe some nice silk scarves. Easier on the wrists.”
Louise tried for a laugh. She was getting way ahead of herself. This thing with Jaiven was just about sex. She could handle it.
Really.
“Have you actually been handcuffed before?” she asked, and Jaiven’s slow, easy smile faded.
“Not in the way you mean.”
Which made her want to ask about a thousand more questions, but unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how she wanted to look at it—their waitress came back with two enormous burgers and Louise bit into hers, glad for a respite from their so-called chitchat.
They ate in what felt like companionable silence for a little while, although Louise became increasingly aware that you could not eat a huge hamburger dripping with bacon and cheese with any sort of elegance or even dignity. She could feel the grease on her chin and she licked the corner of her lip where she felt a splodge of ketchup.
Jaiven shook his head, chewing his own burger. He swallowed and said, “Don’t do that.”
Louise froze, her tongue still sticking out. “Don’t do what?”
“Stick your tongue out.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “It’s making me hard.”
Louise nearly dropped her hamburger. She felt her whole body break out into a scorching flush of—no, not embarrassment.
Arousal.
“Stop it,” she muttered, and Jaiven arched an eyebrow.
“Stop what?”
“Being outrageous.”
“Just telling the truth.”
She shook her head, compelled now to blurt, “I can’t actually believe—” Her compulsion for honesty only took her so far. She stopped, biting her lip, and shook her head again.
“Can’t believe what?” Jaiven asked, his eyebrow still arched, a sexy little smile still playing about his mouth.
Louise didn’t answer. Here were her doubts rushing forward, Jack’s voice filling her head.
You’re a lousy lay, Louise. What man would want you? I get off better with my own hand.
She hadn’t heard his voice in her head for years. She’d thought she’d banished it forever, had moved on from that dark, dark time. Yet she could no longer ignore the fact that being with Jaiven was bringing it all back.
Not because of him. Because of her.
She closed her eyes, suddenly, horrifyingly, near tears. She felt Jaiven’s hand on top of her own, warm and comforting.
“What’s going on, Louise?” he asked quietly.
She opened her eyes, stared at him. He looked calm, steady. Strong. The tattoo was still there, of course, and the scar. Muscles rippled under his button-down shirt. He was still the sexy tiger of a man who had both scared and aroused her at their first meeting. But right now he also looked almost unbearably gentle, and she didn’t think she could take it.
He certainly couldn’t take hearing all of her emotional baggage. He’d be appalled if she told him so much as a tenth of it.
She blinked back the tears, forced a smile that she knew Jaiven didn’t buy, but at least accepted. “Nothing,” she said, and hefted her burger once more. At least with a mouthful of burger, bacon and cheese, she couldn’t say stupid things. Ask stupid questions.
And get her heart broken.
Chapter Six
JAIVEN DIDN’T KNOW what Louise had been going to say, but he could tell she’d changed her mind about saying it. Which was fine, because he hadn’t meant to invite some heartfelt confessional. He’d already broken his rules by taking her out to lunch. He didn’t need to make what was between them more emotional.
Louise clearly didn’t want it to be emotional, which should
make him thankful. Relieved. Happy.
And actually, he was happy when he was with her. God knew, he was enjoying himself in all sorts of ways. She made him laugh and think and he wanted her more than any other woman he could remember. And when she looked at him as if he was the only one who could make her so satisfied, so happy…
That was just about the best feeling in the world.
So maybe he should just stop overthinking it, and run with this—this thing for however long he lasted. Which, knowing him, would be only a couple more days.
He wasn’t used to overthinking stuff. He was the kid who’d had a first grade reading level at thirteen. The only reason he hadn’t repeated grades was because the school had been desperate to push kids through, make sure they didn’t leave any child behind and get penalized by the government. And when he’d walked away at fourteen, they’d been glad to see him go. No truant officer had ever chased after him, which he’d liked at the time, but now he half wished there had been someone who had given a damn about him back then.
Not that it would have changed things. He’d been set on destruction from the moment he’d turned to the Bones for friendship. For family. And sealed his own fate, destroyed his mother’s love—and ended up with an innocent woman dead.
He pushed the thought away. He was supposed to be enjoying himself, damn it. He turned back to Louise, who had recovered from her little wobbly a moment ago. Jaiven didn’t know what had compelled him to try to comfort her, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it again. Getting to know Louise meant her trying to get to know him, and he couldn’t let that happen.
“I’ll drop you off at work,” he said as he signaled for the bill.
“You don’t have to—”
“Have you ever had sex in a cab?”
“Have you?” she challenged back, and he shook his head in mock regret.
“Actually, no. A limo, yes. With tinted, soundproof windows. Providing a peepshow is not part of my fantasy.”
She drew herself up primly. “Nor mine.”
“No sex in a cab, then,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I’m disappointed.”
“You’ll live,” she replied tartly, but she was smiling.