Alisa Kwitney

by Sex as a Second Language (lit)

  “Please, don’t apologize.” He could feel something warm and wet dripping down the left side of his face, and as Magnus wiped his fingers across his forehead, he was conscious of just how ridiculous he must appear. “Um, do you have a washcloth I could use?” Katherine bit her lip and Magnus decided that he didn’t mind looking a little foolish if it cheered her up.

  “Sorry, of course I do.” Katherine sprang into action, wetting a kitchen towel under the tap. As she wiped his jaw, her brows came together. “Your skin’s a little red. It wasn’t hot, was it?”

  “Not really.” Magnus licked his lips, trying to make a joke out of it. “But it was tasty.”

  “Yeah, well, next time I’ll offer it to you on a plate.” As Katherine continued to clean him off, her movements brought her in contact with his chest and arm, and Magnus grew tense as his body began to respond.

  “I can do that.” He tried to take the towel from her hand, but Katherine ignored him.

  “I think I’ve got all of it. Most of it seems to have hit the wall, but, ugh, wait, I see some in your hair.” As she reached up again, Magnus grabbed Katherine’s wrist, wanting to stop her before she realized the effect she was having on him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just—You don’t have to do that.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said, stepping closer again. Christ, he was turning into a teenager. Part of him wanted to cheer—see, Guthrun, I haven’t lost my sex drive, it just went into hiding for a while.

  “There,” she said, “I’ve got it all off.” Still, Katherine made no move to back away from him. She smelled of some citrus scent, with an undertone of woman. Magnus felt light-headed as all the blood in his body seemed to rush south.

  “Thanks.” His voice sounded hoarse and strained, but he forced himself to meet her eyes. Her long, dark hair was tangled, her skin was blotchy, and there were traces of dark makeup smeared under her eyes. She was indescribably beautiful, and visibly upset. “Are you okay, Katherine?”

  Katherine made a sound that was almost, but not quite, a laugh. “Not really, no.”

  Magnus hesitated. Should he put his arms around her, offer comfort? If he did, she would realize pretty damn quick that not all of him agreed with the celibacy idea. He wasn’t sure why Katherine affected him the way she did. Maybe the fact that she was off-limits was part of her allure. But he had to keep in mind that she was off-limits, because there was no way on earth he could make love to her tonight and then turn around and tell her he was really a case officer.

  The silence was stretching out too long. Kat looked up at him, and Magnus saw the sheen of tears in her pale gray eyes. He found himself instinctively folding her into an embrace, his hands stroking her dark hair, which was softer than he’d expected. Kat made a muffled sound of distress, and her shoulders began to shake.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to pull away.

  “Hush,” he said, “I’ve got you.” Battling conflicted emotions of tenderness and desire, Magnus moved his hands in slow circles over Katherine’s back, trying to soothe her. He could feel how rigid her neck and shoulders were, and without thinking, he began touching her more firmly, pressing his thumbs into the knots of tension, working his way deliberately down her spine.

  God, she felt wonderful under his hands, firm and well muscled, but still deliciously rounded and feminine. He moved his hands under her blouse, then experimentally spanned her waist between his fingers. “Your skin is so soft,” he whispered, spreading his thumbs and inadvertently grazing the undersides of her breasts. In response, Katherine pressed her mouth against his chest, lightly nipping his nipple through the thin cotton of his shirt.

  Magnus groaned, knowing that this was wrong—she was distraught, and he was here with her under false pretenses. But it was too damn hard to think clearly when her small bites were sending shocks of pleasure straight through him. Magnus kept his hands on Katherine’s upper arms, afraid that if he touched her anywhere else he might lose control and take this past the point of no return. But then Katherine reached up on tiptoe, licking the hollow under his throat. “You know, you still haven’t kissed me,” she said, meeting his eyes. And he forgot why he’d been holding himself back.

  Hauling Katherine up against him, Magnus kissed her open-mouthed, the first in a series of hard, hungry kisses that didn’t cease as he turned, pressing her up against the wall.

  “Wait.” Katherine was looking at a splatter of casserole on the paint next to her head, but he was through with waiting. Leaning back, Magnus pulled off his shirt, wanting to feel her bare flesh against his.

  “Good God.” Katherine ran her fingers lightly over the muscles of his chest. “How does a scientist get muscles like these?”

  “Rock climbing.” Magnus closed his eyes as her hand trailed lower. “Some martial arts.”

  “I’ll say. You could start a second career in pro wrestling.”

  Magnus was glad she liked his chest, but did they have to keep talking about it? Talking about her chest, on the other hand…Magnus opened his eyes. “Your turn.”

  “My turn?”

  “Shirt. Off.”

  With a smile that could only be described as coy, Kat shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like the idea of having you all naked and helpless, while I keep my clothes and my wits about me.”

  “I believe in equality.” He tugged the hem of her blouse. “Off.”

  “I can’t.” Her eyes were filled with mischief.

  He trailed his hands over her bare stomach. “Why not?”

  “I’m under an enchantment. I can’t surrender. I have to be bested in fair battle.”

  Magnus raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

  Kat lowered her chin and gave him a sultry smile. “You heard me. I’m under a curse to let no man touch me unless he defeats me in a contest of strength.”

  Magnus leaned over to kiss her sternum. “Not much of a contest.”

  “Of course it is, Viking. I’m a fierce warrior maiden. Didn’t you ever read comics as a kid?”

  No, Luc was the comic book guy. Was she thinking of Luc? “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “That’s because you’re thinking. Stop thinking and just react.” Reaching up, Katherine tried to get Magnus into a clumsy judo hold, which Magnus prevented by the simple expedient of grabbing both of her wrists in one of his hands.

  “God, you’re strong.” She twisted her hands, trying to free herself as Magnus kissed her neck and shoulder, his lower body pinning hers.

  Magnus gazed down at her, noticing for the first time that Katherine had dimples when she grinned. “Woman, you are bested.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m just lulling you into a false sense of confidence,” Kat said, renewing her struggles.

  For a few moments, they grappled together, Katherine laughing, Magnus smiling as he removed her shirt. Then, pausing to catch their breath, they found the mood shifting, intensifying. Fumbling with the clasp on her brassiere, Magnus freed her breasts. At the sight of her, he sucked in a sharp breath.

  He bent his mouth to her nipple and lost himself in the feel and taste of her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her breathing grew ragged, and Magnus found himself getting close to the brink as he pressed her breasts together, moving from one nipple to the other, nipping her gently as she had done to him. When she cried out, arching under his hands, he looked up, confused. “Did I just hurt you?”

  Katherine exhaled, dragging her hand through her hair. “Believe me, that wasn’t pain.”

  “Do you want me to be gentler?”

  Katherine replied by grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him until his head began to spin. Her hand began to work at the fly of his jeans, and Magnus reached around to help her when it hit him.

  If his jeans came off, he was going to wind up inside her. Pulling back, Magnus grabbed Katherine’s wrist. “Wait a moment.”

  She twisted her wrists, trying to close her fingers around the bulge
in his jeans. “No more waiting, Viking.”

  “Katherine. Please. We have to stop.”

  “No way. It’s your turn to be defeated.” Her hands still held captive, Katherine rubbed herself against the front of his body, and Magnus relaxed his grip on her wrists for a moment.

  “That’s better,” she said, reaching her hand down his waistband. Her fingers barely touched the head of his penis, but the sensation was so incredible that Magnus thought, To hell with it, I’ve already crossed the line.

  And then the phone rang. They both paused, staring at each other as the answering machine clicked on. It was Dashiell. Untangling herself from their embrace, Kat ran to the other room to speak to her son. When she came back, Magnus had himself under control.

  “Is he okay?”

  Katherine nodded. “He just wanted to say good night.” She had washed her face and brushed her hair, and seemed uncertain about how to proceed. “Listen,” she began.

  “I think we’d better say good night, too,” he said gently, preempting whatever she might have been about to say.

  Her smile was a little crooked. “That would be the rational thing, yes.” She waited, but he didn’t contradict her. “I mean, you’re my boarder, you’re my student, I don’t even know you very well, and you’re celibate, for Christ’s sake!” Katherine frowned. “You aren’t really celibate for Christ’s sake, are you? I mean, you’re not thinking of becoming a priest?”

  “No, I’m not.” Magnus took her hand in his, entwining their fingers. “My reasons for not wanting to have sex right now aren’t religious ones.”

  “I see,” Katherine said, and he could tell she was wondering what the hell his problem really was.

  Magnus fought the urge to explain himself. She’d had enough emotional revelation for one evening.

  “Well…good night then, Magnus.” For a long moment, they held each other’s gaze. Magnus caressed the back of her wrist with his calloused thumb, trying to express something he couldn’t put into words.

  “What are we doing here, Magnus?”

  He paused. “Saying good night.”

  Leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, Katherine said, “Then good night.”

  His hand felt strangely empty when she moved away. “If it’s all right with you, Katherine, I think I’ll use the hall shower now.”

  “Of course.”

  As he ran the water in the hall bathroom, he could hear Kat taking her own shower. Acutely aware of the naked woman on the other side of the wall, Magnus leaned his head back, soaped himself and changed the ending of the scene.

  I’m really a case officer, Katherine, sent here to find out about your father. I don’t blame you for hating me. Or hitting me. No, don’t cry, you didn’t really hurt me. You don’t need to kiss…

  Gasping, Magnus thought he heard a moan from the other side of the wall, but the water was running and he couldn’t be sure.

  chapter twenty-four

  k at woke up on the morning of her fortieth birthday and instantly started fretting over what had taken place the night before. It hadn’t been sex, exactly, but it had come damn close. And it had been fantastic, some of the hottest not-quite-sex of her entire life, ranking up there with the ecstatic fumblings of adolescence. So why hadn’t Magnus thrown her down and done the deed on the floor?

  Well, maybe it hadn’t been all that great for him. Throwing back her covers, Kat made herself face the unsavory possibility that she might have come on too strong. Or else he might have found that whole Viking fantasy a little off-putting. Had she really told him he had to best her in fair battle? The memory was cringe-inducing. Kat realized that she had forgotten how physical desire colored your perceptions of things, lulling you into a false sense of emotional intimacy. The next thing you knew, you’d lost all sense of dignity and were rolling around, offering your tender underbelly and begging for an affectionate touch.

  On the other hand, Kat thought, as she tied her hair back with a scrunchy, it wasn’t as if she’d done something outlandishly peculiar. So she’d gotten a little silly. When you came right down to it, sex was inherently silly, and the more seriously you tried to take it, the more absurd it became. If a little fooling around made the man that damn uncomfortable, well then, he needed to spend some time with Dr. Freud.

  Splashing cold water on her face, Kat decided to shake off any residual hope that Magnus was a candidate for permanent residence. Because he was shy and quiet and a little unsure of himself, it was dangerously tempting to see him as some new breed of male. But even if Magnus wasn’t the type to intentionally inflict pain, it was probably safe to assume that he had a few unresolved issues. An obsession with Internet porn, perhaps, or a predilection for surgically enhanced lap dancers.

  Ugh, not nice thoughts to be having before breakfast. Kat brushed her teeth and tried not to dwell anymore on Magnus’s possible fetishes.

  On the bright side, the rash on her face had finally cleared up, and whatever Galina had done, her skin now looked amazing. So at least she would be able to shoot the infomercial tomorrow. And the chance to make some money in front of a camera again was really the best present of all. As she tied the sash on her ratty old terrycloth bathrobe, Kat resolved to do some sit-ups before the day was done.

  Kat walked slowly past Dashiell’s room, not wanting to wake him up, before remembering that her son hadn’t slept in his bed last night. Which brought back the other memories of last night—the argument with Zandra and Marcy, the lousy way she’d handled her son’s breakdown.

  Maybe the best thing to do would be to go back to bed. After coffee, of course. Kat went into the kitchen to brew a pot, only to discover that someone had beaten her to it. She poured herself a cup, pleasantly surprised to find that Magnus had made it strong enough to suit her.

  As Kat walked back toward her bedroom, she heard the sound of hammering coming from the living room. Curious, she ducked her head inside. Magnus gave the nail a last tap with the hammer.

  “Good morning,” she said, bemused. “Mind if I ask what you’re doing?”

  “Rehanging this.” He indicated her large abstract oil, which was propped against the wall. “Can you tell me when I’m in the right place?” He lifted the painting and Kat came around to see when the wire on the back was lined up with the nail.

  “You’re good.”

  Magnus stepped back, then adjusted one side of the painting. “What do you think? I lowered it. Whoever hung it before put it too high up.”

  “That would have been Logan. He hung paintings at the right height for his eye level, but didn’t take shorter people into account.”

  Kat noticed that Magnus had found her father’s old metal tool chest, which was on the floor next to the couch. She recalled belatedly that she’d kept it up on the top shelf of the closet in his room.

  “Do you want some coffee?”

  “That would be great, but come see what else I’ve done.”

  “What else? How long have you been awake, Magnus?”

  “Ages.” Magnus wiped his face with his forearm. “I held off with the hammering till I was sure you were awake.” His jaw was stubbled and his white T-shirt was slightly damp from sweat. Boy, did that man look good in a sweaty T-shirt. “Look around. Tell me what’s different.”

  Trying to keep her mind off Magnus and sweat, Kat inspected her living room. The broken chairs she had shoved against the far wall were now resting on all four legs. And there was something else. Kat took a sip of her coffee, mulling it over. “The bookcase seems different.”

  “I fixed the glass bit that pulls out.”

  Kat ran her fingers over the glass, sliding it back and forth. “Wow. My dad’s old bookcase. This actually belonged to his grandfather. I didn’t want to throw it out because it’s an antique, but those hinges haven’t worked since the early eighties.”

  Magnus seemed pleased with her reaction. “Go on. See what else I did.”

  Kat walked slowly around the room, trying to hide ho
w moved she was. “The chairs, I can see you adjusted them.”

  “I’d like to work on the molding next. And this room needs to be plastered and painted,” said Magnus. “Not all in one day, of course.”

  “Wow.” Kat knelt, inspecting one of her chairs. “You are absolutely amazing, I don’t know how to thank you…” She stopped short, suddenly realizing that what she ought to do was reduce his rent. Except that would mean putting herself deeper into a financial hole. Still, it didn’t seem fair of her to take his help without offering anything in return. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, making it sound casual, “how about you skip this first week’s rent.” She’d be all right, once she got her infomercial money.

  “Katherine.”

  “Or skip the first two weeks, if you’re going to paint the room, too.”

  “Hey.”

  Kat looked at him.

  “It’s a birthday present. Want to thank me?” Magnus wiped his hands on a rag and draped it over the toolbox. “You could make me some breakfast.”

  Katherine smiled at him. “Salty or sweet?”

  “You decide.”

  After Magnus showered, they ate pancakes and sausage as the sun poured through the kitchen windows, and Magnus talked about all the projects he had in mind. The cabinets needed to be stripped of old paint, so they could close properly. He wanted to replace some doorknobs. Some of the bathroom tile required grouting. Kat was surprised to find that discussing home improvements with Magnus felt both exciting and domestic, a balance she had never managed to achieve with Logan. By the time Kat brewed the second pot of coffee, she knew that she’d already broken all her resolutions to keep from hoping for more from this relationship.

  Magnus shook his head, refusing a third cup of coffee. “So that bookcase belonged to your father?”

  “Along with a lot of the books. The John Carter of Mars novels, the Steinbecks, the books on abnormal psych.”