Trusting The One (Meadowview Heat 2; The Meadowview Series 2)

by Rochelle French

  Jack ran his thumb along the stem of his drink, then took a sip and allowed the warmth of the alcohol to relax him. He tuned Theo out and let his mind drift to thoughts of Lia. It was some time during the first year she’d worked for him that he realized something had changed. Even as a child, she’d been quiet and reserved, but after she’d married Vance, it seemed as if a shadow had come over her soul. Jack had an inkling that the shadow may have been her husband, but Lia always claimed things were fine in her marriage. Vance had seemed attentive, and even though he never was able to keep a job, he’d pick Lia up after work each night and give her a hug and a kiss.

  When Vance died and Lia had admitted to her friends that she’d been the victim of spousal abuse, Jack was overwhelmed with guilt—and filled with rage. After breaking three of his fingers by punching a wall, he’d begged her forgiveness for not protecting her. Lia wouldn’t allow him to apologize. She claimed she wasn’t going to allow herself to feel guilty over Vance’s mistreatment of her and she didn’t want her friends to feel guilty, either.

  “What Vance did to me was his fault,” she’d told them all. “Not my fault for hiding the truth, not in my friends for not knowing I needed protection or help. His fault, and his alone.”

  Jack tossed the rest of his martini back in one gulp. Vance had not only mentally and physically abused her, but had done a number on her psyche about sex, too. Lia’s fear of men didn’t surprise him, but her thinking she had zero sex appeal and that she wouldn’t be any good in bed did shock him. Her body’s intense response to his touch was more real and profound than that of any other woman he’d slept with. She wasn’t frigid—she was simply wounded.

  So far, he’d taught her to enjoy the sensation of a man’s body close to hers, to enjoy a man’s attention, and to enjoy being kissed a man who thoroughly wanted to kiss her. Vance’s kisses and hugs had been for show—a way of controlling Lia. The scene in Jack’s living room had been unscripted, but giving over control and allowing Lia to come to him—to instigate the kiss and near make-out session that followed—had gone far in helping her learn to touch a man without having her subconscious freeze up her body. The way she’d shaken with desire further illustrated to both of them that she had a sizzling sexual intensity buried deep somewhere.

  A desire he intended to uncover completely. And hopefully keep for himself.

  “Hey, Jack, I asked you a question. Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

  “How long have you been talking?”

  “What was the last thing you heard?”

  “Hmm…” He searched his memory. “Something about hot twins donating their time to your charity.”

  Theo shot him a dirty look. “That was like, ten minutes ago.”

  “Sorry,” Jack said, but his words lacked conviction. “What’d I miss?”

  “Christ. If you plan to zone out and ignore all the important stuff I’m telling you, I’m heading out.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m a little focused on something that’s got my mind all tied up in knots.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  He shook his head. Nope, nothing he could ask Theo about. This was between him and Lia. After Theo took off, he’d work to figure out the next step in Lia’s progress toward becoming a sexually alive woman. As open as she’d been earlier in the day, he knew she still had fears he needed to weed out.

  He just needed to figure out how.

  * * *

  Two nights later, the sensation of Lia snuggled next to him in the movie theater reminded Jack of how he’d felt when he was a kid right before Christmas—all excited and happy and hopeful. Like a dope, in other words.

  After Theo had left the other day, Jack realized what Lia needed next in her sex lessons and had immediately set his plan into action by calling her to arrange dinner and a movie, with the promise of a goodnight kiss at the end. A traditional “date.”

  Although he had plans…and there was nothing traditional about how he planned to end the evening.

  But for now, she was pressed close to him in the movie theater, tossing popcorn between her berry-colored lips. Her long, black hair fanned out over the sleeve of his shirt, making him wish he’d worn something with short sleeves so he could feel the silky smoothness against his skin.

  Plenty of time for that later. Right now was just about showing Lia how she should be treated by a man—with respect and decency.

  He felt a twinge of guilt. He had allowed things to go a bit off course when she’d stopped by his place and kissed the hell out of him. His plan had been simple: over a series of dates get to first base, then second, then third, and finally hit a home run. And if he played his cards right, she’d fall in love with him along the way.

  And would forget about Peter or any other man who came prowling around.

  Next to him, Lia sighed and snuggled closer, sending sparks flying through his body. She reached over and dug around the bag of popcorn tucked between his thighs. After fumbling about for a few moments, sending jolts of electricity as she unwittingly nudged his erection in the process, she grabbed a handful of popcorn and leaned back in her seat. He snuck a peek. She looked so cute—the perfect movie date—chomping popcorn, a soda in the cup holder between them, a box of candy resting on her lap.

  He couldn’t resist. He yawned, reached his arms out in an exaggerated stretch, dropped one arm on the back of her seat, and plopped his hand on her breast, copping a feel. She tried to stifle a laugh but was unsuccessful, and hiccupping bursts of laughter escaped.

  “All part of my plan,” he murmured in her ear.

  “Classic.” She laughed again and tipped her head upward to smile at him.

  On impulse, he bent and brushed a kiss across her butter-slicked lips. When he was finished, he drew away to see her eyes widen. She turned her attention back to the movie screen, but reached over and entwined her fingers with his.

  He brushed a kiss across the top of her head. Thank God the movie was about over. He’d been teasing when he told her all she’d get tonight was a goodnight kiss. Copping a feel had been a freebie.

  He was still certain she wasn’t ready to have sex, and he hadn’t had enough time to make her fall in love with him yet. He wasn’t about to take her to bed. But he also wasn’t going to drop her off at her doorstep with a chaste kiss.

  Lia had built up mental barriers, even if she wasn’t aware of what the barriers were. But one of her comments the other day had given him enough information to figure out one thing that was holding her back.

  What she didn’t know was that tonight she’d get two lessons: the first, how a woman should be treated by a man on a date. The second: that there was no frigging way she did not have sex appeal.

  But he didn’t need to prove to her he found her sexy—she knew that already by the number of hard-ons he’d had in her presence. No, the person she needed to convince she was sexy wasn’t him…it was her.

  And he had a good idea how to teach her this particular lesson.

  He couldn’t wait for the credits to roll.

  * * *

  Lia’s lips tasted like salt and butter—movie theater lips, Jack thought, as he traced his tongue across her mouth. They were standing on the frost-covered wooden sidewalk outside her elevator, in the cold of the night, their bodies pressed together like heat-seeking missiles. As they waited for the door to open, he tipped his head and pressed his lips against hers again, his lips nudging her mouth open so he could slide in his tongue.

  Her light floral scent filled his nostrils, sending blood flowing to his core. He deepened the kiss and she groaned, bending into him, clutching him tighter. Hell, she wanted so much more than one kiss, didn’t she?

  The elevator arrived, but neither moved. Instead, when he relinquished her from the kiss, Lia gave him an indiscernible look, taking in a few jagged breaths before she spoke. “I appreciate what you did tonight. Showing up here with a bouquet of flowers, treating me to a nice dinner, and taking me t
o the movies.”

  “A normal date,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

  She frowned. “Normal for people who weren’t totally paranoid about being touched, that is.”

  “You’re not paranoid, Lia. You’ve been wounded. That’s different.”

  Her frown softened. She slid her hands between the leather of his jacket and the brushed cotton of his shirt and stroked his back, then brought her body to fit snugly against his.

  “Lia…” He kept his voice low.

  “You’re coming up with me, right?”

  “Maybe,” he teased.

  “This has been a great lesson, Jack: nice guys treated women well. But I knew that already.” She sucked in a breath and for a moment turned away, then caught his gaze again, a steely determination in her eyes. “What I don’t know is what my body would do if a man put his hand under my sweater and caressed my breasts. Or if a man took off my pants, then my panties. Or if a man slid inside me. What then?”

  Blood pounded in his ears. Holy shit. In his mind, he saw him caressing her breasts. Tearing off her clothes. Sliding and out of her over and over and over again.

  “Lia,” he ground out, “stop. Just stop.”

  “Why?”

  He pushed her away. Because he was about to fucking come in his pants was why, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. “I’m in charge of the lessons, okay? I gave you leeway the other day, but not anymore.”

  Her eyes had gone big and round. Scared. “Are you…did I make you mad by saying that? Are you leaving?” Her voice had gone soft and quiet, and the determination he’d seen in her eyes had disappeared, replaced by worry and self-recrimination.

  “Fuck, no.”

  “Then what just happened? Why did you push me away?”

  He hadn’t intended to make her feel bad about herself. Not when she’d been so eager, so confident. Time to let her know he’d been turned on so much he’d had to push her away. He pulled her hips to his and rocked back and forth, bringing her awareness to the length of his erection, easily discernible behind the lightweight cloth of his black suit trousers.

  “Oh,” she whispered, and melted against him.

  “Still think you’re not sexy?”

  A small frown appeared on her face. “I’m not sure. I mean, I get that your body reacts to mine, but would other men feel the same reaction?”

  He sucked in a quick breath. “Depends on the man, of course, but yeah, most would.”

  “But isn’t that just a physiological reaction?” she asked. “I mean, a response triggered by nature, and not because they actually find me appealing?”

  How the hell could Lia Sawyer not think she was sexy? “We’re going upstairs,” he said. “And after I’m done with you, you’ll believe exactly how appealing you are. How sensual. How beautiful.”

  For a moment, she hesitated, and he wondered if she was about to back out. But then she reached down and took his hand in hers.

  “I’m ready.”

  Once in Lia’s loft, Jack waited as she dithered about for a while, making tea and chatting nervously about the movie. After a good fifteen minutes of absolute nothing, he took the mug she held in her hand and set it on the coffee table. She bit the side of her lower lip. Damn. Lia was nervous as hell, but for chrissake, she’d asked for all this. However, he’d never push her beyond where she wanted to go. Everything he did was because she wanted it. Asked for it. Had screwed up enough courage to ask for it. That he could respect. But still, he needed to make sure.

  “Want me to go?” he asked. “Continue this another day?”

  She stopped biting her lip and shook her head. “No. I know I’m coming off a bit like a ninny, but I want to move on. Tonight. Whatever you had in mind before we came up here, I need. Please.”

  He studied her for a moment, and when she held his gaze with hers, her eyes steady and determined, he knew it was time.

  “Do you like your body?” By her silence, he could tell he’d taken her by surprise.

  “Um…well, I’m way too skinny. And I don’t have any boobs,” she quickly added.

  He disagreed with her self-assessment. Lia wasn’t too skinny. Not any more, at least. She had always been on the thin side until after she married Vance. By the end of her first year of marriage, she’d been reduced to skin and bones, her hair had lost its luster, and the tone of her skin had grown ashen. But after Vance died, she’d put on some weight. Not much, just enough to soften the sharp angles and planes that had once defined her frame. She could still stand to gain a few more pounds, but at least now she looked healthy, and certainly less frail and pointy.

  And as for her breasts… “Your breasts are great.”

  “You don’t think they’re too small?”

  “Under no circumstances.”

  At that, Lia laughed, breaking the tension that hung thick in the room. “I thought all guys liked big boobs.”

  He shook his head and leaned forward. “Some do.”

  “But not you?”

  He shook his head. Enough with the chitchat. It was time to put his plan into action. “Go sit on the bed.”

  “What?” she asked.

  Quickly, he cast her a glance. “Still with me on this, Lia?”

  “Oh. Yeah, right.” She stood. “The bed it is. Umm…am I supposed to get naked or something?”

  He chuckled. “Just go sit on the side of the bed for now.” He stood up and moved to the far side of the loft. In the corner stood a full-length mirror suspended on an oak pedestal. “Is it all right if I move this mirror?”

  At her nod, he slid the mirror across the room to bring it closer to Lia’s bed. He hopped up onto the bed next to her, sitting so that his bicep barely grazed her shoulder. She shifted closer, but he noticed she didn’t look at her image in the mirror.

  “There’s no way you can open up and enjoy a man touching you if you’re uncomfortable with your own body. You’re beautiful, and you need to believe in your own beauty. You’re also hellishly sexy, and you need to believe that, too.”

  “Yeah, right,” she said, then snorted.

  “Believe what you want. I’m just telling you how I see you. And how, I assume, most men see you.”

  He ignored her as she rolled her eyes. If her former husband had repeatedly pounded into her brain how unattractive she was, then she’d probably come to believe the jerk. Jack knew it would take more than him simply telling her she had sex appeal before she accepted it as truth.

  He used his toe to nudge the mirror closer to the bed. “To get pleasure from a man’s body, you need to love your own. The mirror is here so you can see yourself how I see you—how a man sees you.”

  She tipped her face to his, showing an expression of shock mixed with a softer emotion.

  Oh, God, he wanted to grab her, kiss her thoroughly, and make love to every inch of her body. But that couldn’t happen. Not yet. She trusted him enough to ask him to teach her how to stop being afraid of a man’s hands on her body, to teach her how to open up and enjoy the act of sex. They’d get there in due time. But first, she needed gentling.

  He felt a grin tug at the corner of his mouth. As long as he could keep his heart under wraps, he was going to enjoy gentling Lia.

  * * *

  Lia realized this lesson wasn’t going as she’d anticipated. None of them were, in fact. When Jack had originally shown up at her door the morning after she’d presented her proposal, she hadn’t been sure he’d agree to her plan. When he said “yes,” her heart had leaped with hope. She wanted a life—no, needed a life—and Jack was her key.

  They’d hung out, kissed, gone to dinner and the movies, and he’d even copped a feel. All of which was great. But now what? Why were they on her bed, looking at a mirror?

  All they had to do was to take off their clothes and have at it. She’d assumed that once the initial discomfort of Jack entering her was over, she could focus on learning the techniques that made sex enjoyable. Instead, Jack was telling her she need
ed to love her body.

  “Take off your clothes,” Jack said softly.

  “Wait—what?”

  “Not all of them. Just your sweater and jeans.”

  “I thought I was supposed to look at myself in the mirror.”

  “You are. But you’ll be looking at more than your face. So take off your clothes.”

  This wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting. She shot him a look and frowned.

  “Stop glaring at me like that. Just do it.” Jack’s tone was soft but firm. Very firm.

  Was she ready for this? She sucked in a breath. Taking her clothes off somehow meant hitting the point of no return. If she stripped, this would really be happening. But if it didn’t happen, she’d never learn to enjoy being intimate with a man, would never be able to go on a date, and would never be fully normal.

  “Fine, I’ll do it.” She stood up and wriggled her way out of the fuzzy sweater, jeans, and her socks. She’d left her tee on, though.

  Jack didn’t chide her. His face, reflected in the mirror, softened as he watched her. “You doing okay?”

  “I think so.”

  “Take off your T-shirt, then.”

  The unexpected tremor in his voice and the way his eyes seemed to cloud over stirred something in her. She tugged the tee over her head and dropped it to the floor, searching for his gaze with hers. And then realized her body was shaking.

  “That’s far enough,” he said quickly. Instead of meeting her gaze, he motioned to the full-length mirror. “Look there and tell me what you see.”

  Clad only in her bra and panties, she suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed. A memory bore into her consciousness, triggering a shockwave of fear. She squeezed her eyes closed and heard a gasp rise from her throat. In her mind, Vance towered over her, holding her in a painful grip. You’re not even a woman, Lia. You have no tits. How could you ever satisfy me?

  Jack eased his weight on the bed, shifting closer to her. “You froze up. Are you thinking of Vance?”