by Ines Saint
Jake lowered her to the ground, pulled her toward him again, and plunged into her mouth with a possessiveness that left her dizzy and feverish.
When she came up for air and strength, she half-laughed, half-breathed, "I—I'm dizzy," and Jake laughed, too, and swiftly gathered her into his arms and carried her inside to an old, worn couch where they hungrily kissed, touched, and explored, always careful not to take it further than Kayla was ready to go.
She couldn't remember when it was that it stopped raining, and when it was that darkness began to fall because she was only aware of Jake's body beside hers, his breath, his lips, and his hands. It was a long time before anything else mattered.
Finally, when they could no longer ignore hunger pangs, they tried to prepare a Thanksgiving lasagna together. Jake kept distracting them with his hands and mouth, and it took forever. Finally, they shared a plate on an old recliner, with Kayla on Jake's lap.
* * *
"What do you want to do now? Do you want to watch some TV? Criminal Evidence is playing," Jake suggested when they finished eating.
Kayla put her head on his shoulder. "Ugh. I hate that show. The good guys always win."
"I thought you of all people would like that."
"It's not how it is in real life, and it gets to me," she said with uncharacteristic bitterness.
And then he got it. This was about her father. He propped her chin up, looked into her eyes, and kissed her once, softly.
Kayla sighed. "I know it's just a show."
"I understand," Jake said, and meant it.
She was quiet for a while. Her thoughts had clearly gone elsewhere. When she finally spoke, it seemed as if she'd come to a conclusion. "I don't think I'll ever stop being angry about what happened to my dad."
"I'd be angry too," Jake said softly, smoothing her hair.
"At least I'm not angry at my dad anymore. I went through this phase where I was so mad at him for choosing to be a policeman..." Her voice, tinged with guilt, trailed off and she was thoughtful again.
"Did they ever catch whoever did it?" he gently asked.
"He was shot and killed immediately after before he could shoot anyone else, but I can't help wishing he would've rotted away in prison instead, you know? It feels like instant death wasn't enough of a punishment. But it's also blessing my poor mom didn't have to go through a trial, or that we don't have to live in fear of his killer being released." She breathed in. "And I want to be forgiving, I really do, but I can't."
He put her head on his shoulder, kissed her temple, and hugged her close. It was exactly what she needed. Sometimes words were over-rated. After a while, she laced her fingers with his and asked, "Why do you really want to be mayor?"
He didn't hesitate. "Because Chicago is the greatest city in the world."
"That's not a real answer! I know plenty of people who feel the same way, and not one of them would ever think of running for mayor."
Jake hesitated. "I know this will sound silly, but I believe in Chicago, the way I believe in very few things. To me, it lives and breathes, and never dies. It's always changing, adapting, and surviving. Ever since I can remember, I've been trying to come up with ideas to help it continue on its journey." He looked up at her, and her eyes were so bright and clear that he knew she believed him. It made him want to kiss her, more deeply than ever, and he moved his hand to the back of her neck to do just that. But before his lips touched hers, she said, "That's what you should always say. You should open yourself up to the way you open up to me... well, the way you open up to me sometimes. You should talk to them about the festivals and the stations and, well, everything you've shared with me!"
* * *
Tired, they decided it was time to go to bed to sleep. Neither had gotten enough work done, and both wanted to make up for it the next day. But what started as a few chaste kisses good night at Kayla's door ended with Kayla backed up against said door, with Jake's hands and mouth making her feel desperate and unfulfilled. Jake seemed to notice she was feeling the need to go further because he broke away and said, "I don't think I have any restraint left to stop this if you don't stop this. And if you don't, then I'm afraid you'd regret it later, and I don't ever want you to do that."
She smiled a little. "You've shown restraint?"
Jake's eyes flashed with heat and a promise Kayla wasn't sure she could take. "Okay then. You can go away now. Just give me one more goodnight kiss. A little one," she clarified.
He gave her an unsatisfactory peck on the cheek. "There. Good night." He opened the door to her room and shoed her inside.
She laughed. "A bigger one."
He took her hands in his, and kissed both her palms, smiling, before bowing a gentlemanly goodbye. But the moment she felt his roughened palms she hesitated, holding on to them, and thinking about how they revealed a different side to him. Without thinking, she brought them up to her lips and kissed each of his palms, too. He looked down at her, and she looked up at him. The tension was back.
She hooked a finger in the front of his jeans and pulled him closer. His breath hitched, and he looked like he was in pain. He picked her up, brought her into the room, and set her down on the bed, without breaking eye contact. He was breathing hard.
"I like how deeply you feel things, Kayla. And I'm fascinated by how quickly you go from one emotion to another—" he began, his voice strained.
"Are you calling me emotional again?" she interrupted.
He smiled, and it relieved some of the tension in his face. "Let's just say I never have to guess what you're feeling," he answered, before more thoughtfully adding, "And if you hadn't acted on your feelings, we would've missed out on this weekend." He pulled her close, wound his arms around her, and kissed her forehead. "And right now, it's clear you want this as much as I do. But I'm afraid that will change when it's too late."
Kayla lay still, feeling safe in his arms, and searched her heart. No matter how wrapped up at the moment she was, and no matter how far away real life seemed, she hadn't lost sight of the fact that she didn't want Jake in her everyday life. He led a far-too-public life, and, more importantly, he had the power to permanently break her heart. Both deal breakers.
But she wanted to be with him, for this one weekend. The memory would be worth a hurting heart, of that she was sure. And a hurting heart healed.
She propped herself up on her elbows. "I've never wanted anyone like this."
He held her to him, and she felt two, out of control heartbeats. "Believe it or not, Kayla, neither have I. Not like this. Never like this."
"I have no doubts," she said.
Jake rolled her so that he was atop her, propped on his elbows. He searched her face and her eyes, and, satisfied with what he saw there, kissed her deeply, while his hands moved over and under her, warm and gentle, easing her into delicious intimacy. He slipped her sweater over her head, unhooked her bra, and proceeded to drive her crazy in the most delicious ways possible. "You're so responsive. I knew you would be," he half-whispered, half-groaned between kisses.
She undid his jeans, and the sound that came from his throat told her he was in real pain. It made her laugh, and he smiled on her mouth. The pause made him finally take his hands off her long enough to let her pull his sweater over his head. Skin to skin, he looked into her eyes, his caresses tender once more, his kisses sweet and clinging. He brought her to exquisite urgency slowly this time, and whenever she thought nothing could ever feel better, that she could die from the pleasure of it all, he'd take her to a new dizzying height.
The free-fall, when it came, left her with sensations she never knew existed, and the way he looked at her and wrapped himself around her when it was all over, breathing her in, and looking at her in wonder had her fighting hard to keep her heart to herself.
Chapter 10
Kayla barely slept. Trying to not think was harder work than thinking, and it had taken her nearly all night to push intrusive thoughts away.
She showered
, dressed, took her violin out, and practiced for a full hour before the smell of sausage and eggs wafted up to her. Sooner or later, she'd have to eat. And sooner or later, she'd have to face Jake. If only she could understand what it was she dreaded about it, she could prepare herself. The night before now felt surreal.
She strolled into the kitchen with a greeting, served herself breakfast, and said, "Thank you for breakfast," all without looking at him. He acknowledged her standard murmurs with a few of his own.
When she finished eating, she got up to wash the skillet and dishes, and Jake came up beside her to give her his plate and help her dry everything off.
"I should get a dishwasher in here soon," he said.
"It's okay. I don't mind doing the dishes," she replied, before quickly realizing it was a dumb remark because she was never be coming back. "I mean, you don't have to go out and get one today because I don't mind doing the dishes while I'm here, but of course it'll be a good idea to buy one in case the next woman who comes here doesn't want to do the dishes with you," she rushed to clarify. But that was an even stupider thing to say because she now sounded as if she was thinking about the other women Jake would bring over. Which she hadn't been. But now was.
Naturally, that was followed by the thought that he probably brought tons of conquests to his house by the river. Clearly, he was skilled, and skill, she knew, took practice. She was now one of many. How amazingly unoriginal. Her self-esteem momentarily went down the drain with the warm, sudsy water and she took a few steps back, took get away from him, and stopped only because she hit the island. Jake shut the water off and faced her.
"Kayla, I've never brought another woman here, okay? I don't even bring them home. I usually stay—" he stopped and breathed out. "What I mean is—"
"You don't owe me any explanations, Jake. I wasn't jealous or anything. I was just babbling."
"All right. No explanations. I just wanted you to know that in case it did matter to you, even though we both know it shouldn't." He leaned against the kitchen sink, crossed his arms, and looked at her.
Kayla swallowed hard. "But you know what? Now that we're on the subject, why haven't you brought any other women here? It's out of the way and secluded..."
Jake cleared his throat. "Because I don't want anyone intruding. This is my... I don't know, my haven, I guess you could call it. But it seemed like you needed a haven, too."
"I did. Thank you. But yesterday, you said it was because you thought I was good for you."
"You are. I love hearing you play. I don't know much about music, but you draw me in somehow and make me feel whatever you're feeling," he said, edging a little closer, hoping hard she wasn't regretting last night. He'd been terrified all morning, and her playing hadn't given him a clue. Unlike yesterday. She was serious, and he decided to tease her, which always got a reaction, whether a laugh or a scowl. "Like yesterday. I knew exactly what you were feeling by the way you played," He held out his hand, and his heart sank when he saw the uncertainty in her eyes. But she took it. He gave it a gentle tug, and she was finally in his arms again. Hesitantly, as if he hadn't spent the most glorious night of his life with her, he brought her chin up so that he could look into her eyes.
Then, without taking his eyes off hers, he lowered his mouth onto hers. She sighed and kissed him back slowly. Seductively. When he couldn't take much more, he lifted her up onto the island, where he could reach more of her. They didn't make it out of the kitchen until noon.
Almost only one of the projects he'd planned on completing got started. It was impossible to stay away from Kayla when every one of his nerve endings reached out to wherever she was. He only worked peacefully when she practiced her violin. She was adamant about it, and he admired her discipline.
No matter where he was in the house, her music reached him, and no matter how arduous a task he was trying to get done, he felt at ease with the world, knowing she was steps away.
After dinner, Kayla went upstairs, hinting at a surprise. Jake nearly salivated, imagining her in something flimsy, lacy, and red. But when she came back down, she was swaying a long, red skirt around with one hand and holding her phone up with the other. "I thought I'd teach you how to dance merengue!" she said, playfully twirling her skirt.
It wasn't what he was expecting, but there was no way he could say no to her happy face, even though he really didn't want to merengue. He didn't know what merengue was, but it didn't sound like it was something any Kelly would do. Salsa at SummerDance had been a fluke.
Kayla played a spirited song on her phone, grabbed his hands, and pulled him close. He pretended to sigh in protest when she put his hands into position on her waist and shoulder when in reality it brought back a pleasant memory.
"Come on, it's fun and easy. It's basically marching. Left right left right left right left right," Kayla chanted as she began to move. Jake looked at her and raised both eyebrows suggestively when he felt her swaying, sizzling hip under his hand. His other hand slipped down to her other hip, which moved in an equally hypnotic rhythm, but Kayla tugged it back up to her shoulder. "Come on, you're not moving! Just take one step to each beat of the music, left, and right. Don't act like you don't want to. I know you had fun last time we danced." Jake rolled his eyes and began to move. He was rewarded with a quick kiss, so he tried a little harder. The music, pulsing with festive beats, helped.
A song infused with sensual, throbbing, rhythms called "Suavemente" began to play, and they danced in close position for a while. He gained confidence and began to take control, and her body became supple and more limber in his arms. "What's this song about? 'Suavemente' means 'softly,' right?" Jake asked.
"It's about kissing." Kayla looked up at him, and Jake nodded. He wouldn't have thought anyone could make up an entire song about kissing until he'd kissed Kayla. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of it.
She began instructing him again, to get him to move with what she called a Cuban Motion, and Jake complied, knowing there was only one thing in the world he'd find more satisfying than crushing his hips against Kayla's in such a sensual way. Pretty soon, he got the hang of the Cuban Motion, and by the next song, Kayla was teaching him a very suggestive move called the pretzel.
The more she moved, the hotter her skin felt against his. It was impossible not to slip his hands down to her hips and hold her close to him when she swayed and moved in such tortuous ways. "You're right, this is fun," he said, reluctantly taking a step back. It surprised him that he didn't want her to think he was just another single-minded male. He enjoyed just being with her, and he wanted her to enjoy just being with him, too.
She smiled up at him. "It is, isn't it? I feel like we could do this for—"
Jake's body stopped moving by its own volition, and he held his breath, hoping she wouldn't finish the thought. "For the rest of this weekend," she finished.
* * *
Kayla placed her head on Jake's shoulder for a while so he wouldn't see her burning cheeks, and so she could memorize his unique scent. She couldn't believe she'd almost said forever. But his eyes had been ablaze, and his body had felt so right against hers that she'd nearly lost her mind. His reaction brought her back down to earth, and she'd been glad for it.
"I hate awkwardness, and I know you know I almost said forever. But I didn't mean it in the literal sense. It's like when I say I could eat pizza and flan for every mean for the rest of my life," she finally said. "There's nowhere for us to go from here, and that's the way we both said we wanted it."
Jake was quiet for a while. "No, not now. Now is impossible. We're both trying to jumpstart consuming careers. As soon as wet back home, we'll be worlds apart."
"Not now, and not ever," Kayla corrected. "We're not compatible in real life. We've always been worlds apart. It's why we argue all the time."
"Right. All the time." They danced slowly, holding each other close, in quiet understanding that this would all soon end.
* * *
They spent the
ir last day and night together in normal, everyday tasks like cooking, cleaning and watching TV, interspersed with making love, sharing thoughts, old stories, and hopes.
Sunday morning, Kayla awoke to soft sunlight, and Jake's warm, solid arms around her. It seemed like he was hanging on than a hug, but she knew it wasn't so.
A few hours later, they were in the car and pulling away. Kayla didn't look back. She stared out the window, a strange, peaceful emptiness settling within her. Jake took her hand in his and concentrated on the road.
"Kayla?" he spoke. It had been the only sound between them since they'd left, almost an hour before.
She squeezed his hand in response.
"You're quiet. Are you having regrets?"
"We're both quiet, and no, I don't have regrets. I feel as if I should, but I don't," she reassured him. "I—I'll probably never live anything like that again." A good thing, since it was dangerously consuming. It felt like she was walking away from a dream.
He cleared his throat. "Where do we go from here?" he asked. Each mile was bringing them closer and closer to reality, and Kayla guessed he was still worried she'd have expectations. She wasn't offended that he needed reassurance. A scandal from her could tank the campaign and all hi shard work.
"Well, we find a way for me to get home without anyone seeing us together. I think you should drop me off at Robbie's."
"That's not what I meant."
Kayla sighed. "I know what you meant, and I'm trying to tell you that you don't have to worry. I told you before. This is it. I go home, you go back to your campaign, and this will all be a sleepy memory. I don't want anything from you." But it hurt her that he was worried she should.
Jake was silent. "So, this is it," he finally repeated, a new, steely note in his voice. "We part ways, and never see each other again?"
Suspicion crept into her mind, and her heart sank. "Yes. What did you expect? Some secret, torrid affair?"
"Torrid affair? Where'd you get that?" Jake demanded and seemed genuinely upset.