by Jill Winters
She had an irate look on her face that said, You're goin' down. "No, I just meant that you're not my type," he clarified quickly. "You see, the truth is, I am already deeply involved with someone else. Someone who, uh, truly 'strikes my fancy,' if you will." He slipped in a little throat clearing here, but Reese let it slide. "In fact," Kenneth went on, "I did all of this for her."
"But who? I don't get this—who could possibly care about that dumb book?"
"Frankly, I'd rather not say."
"Well, you'd better say, or I'm gonna go to the dean about all this." Honestly, she didn't know if any of this fell within the dean's jurisdiction, but she figured Kenneth would cower in the face of the Crewlyn College chain of command.
Her instincts were right (for once).
"No, please don't go to the dean," he pleaded. "I'll tell you, I'll tell you." He swallowed slowly, and said, "The truth is, I have been immersed in a passionate love affair with Professor Diane Shamus for the last several months."
Shamus? As in the senile American history professor with the knee-length white hair? Genuinely curious, if a touch horrified, Reese asked, "How on earth did that happen?"
"Well, if you must know... she seduced me."
Eww! Did she have to ask?
"So, as you can see, I prefer a more mature woman. And, to be candid, Diane has unlocked a realm of sensual treasures that I, in my callow youth, had never even envisioned—"
"All right," Reese said, squinting and holding up her hand. "I get the idea."
Then, like a shot, she remembered the tortoiseshell barrette she'd found on Kenneth's desk. Oh, yuck, had they done it in there? Reese shivered at the mental image.
"What?" he asked.
"Oh... uh... nothing," she lied. "But wait, I still don't get it. Why would Professor Shamus care about Kimble's book?"
"Well, you see, she's terribly self-conscious because she hasn't had an academic publication in almost thirty years." Reese had to admit there might be some validity to that self-consciousness. "Anyway," Kenneth went on wearily, "she asked me to find out what Professor Kimble is working on, so we can..."
"What? Steal his ideas? His work?" Reese was acting righteous to make Kenneth feel like dirt, but in fact, Kimble had no ideas, had done no work, and whatever he thought he knew had been stolen in the first place.
"Kenneth, that is despicable," she went on, still not through making him feel like dirt. Hell, he deserved it. He'd barely expressed any regret about leading Reese on for more than two months! Here she'd been agonizing over their relationship for the last four weeks, and the whole time Kenneth had been plotting against her.
"I truly am sorry," Kenneth said, sounding as heartfelt as a robot. "I never meant to make you fall for me." She almost laughed. "I just didn't think it would be so hard to get some valuable information out of you. It was only in these last few weeks that Diane and I realized we needed to, uh, amplify your sense of emotional intimacy in order to get you to confide in me."
"You mean Professor Shamus was in on all of this?" Reese exclaimed. She assumed Shamus wanted Kenneth to use his position as Kimble's assistant, but she didn't figure she was the pimp behind the scenes. Jeez, what would the Crewlyn ethics committee say about that?
As though he'd read her mind, Kenneth started begging, "Oh, please, please, Reese, don't do anything to jeopardize Diane's position at Crewlyn. She is a remarkable woman who regrettably fell victim to temptation."
Reese rolled her eyes and stifled a gag. But as messed up as Kenneth and Shamus were, Reese just wanted this over with. "Fine, I won't, but get out of here before I change my mind."
"Oh, well, my car's at the church—"
"Don't push your luck," she warned, glaring at him.
"No, no, I won't. Thank you," he said quickly. "I promise, Diane and I will not try anything like this again. I'll help her find her own book idea. I swear."
"Good for you," Reese said apathetically. As she turned to open her hotel room door, she heard Kenneth call back to her.
"Reese, do you mind, uh, well there's just no easy way to say this, uh..."
"Just spit it out," she said, annoyed and tired of talking to this weasel.
"Well, that cameo I gave you—it's Diane's. May I, uh, have it back, please?"
She let out a laugh. This just kept getting stupider! Obviously they had concocted the old "it belonged to my dead mother" scheme in an effort to "amplify a sense of emotional intimacy." How pathetic for everyone involved—which, unfortunately, included Reese.
"Kenneth, I'll mail it to you, okay?" she said with disgust. Turning her back on him, she went to check on Brian.
Chapter 29
When she walked in, she saw him pacing. "Hey," she said quietly, "what's going on?"
He shook his head, still pacing, and said, "Danny went into premature labor. Scott's supposed to call me and tell me if everything's okay."
He sounded edgy, worried, but guarded, so she didn't feel comfortable going over and wrapping her arms around him, as much as she wanted to. Tentatively inching closer, she asked, "Do you want some privacy?"
He looked up, expressionless; she took that as a yes, nodded with understanding, and turned to go. "No," he said in a low, serious voice that stopped her. "No... stay. Please."
"Okay," she replied softly, and remained standing in the middle of the room, while Brian went back to pacing.
Suddenly his head jerked up. "Oh, what was deal with that guy?" he asked, referring to the slithering slime of the century, Kenneth. Waving her hand dismissively, Reese gave Brian the quick, abridged version. He actually chuckled when she mentioned how ancient Professor Shamus was; then his face darkened as they both remembered that he was waiting for a very important phone call. So Reese shut up and let him pace in peace.
Suddenly he sat down in the chair—the same one he'd held her in the night before—and she went beside him. "Brian," she said, just barely touching his arm. "Do you want me to get you anything? Something from downstairs to eat or drink...?"
He shook his head. "No... thanks."
"Okay." She chewed on her lower lip, and then said, "I'm sure it'll be all right. Being premature can happen to anyone. It's extremely common."
He nodded. "You're right," he said. She turned to give him some space again, and he reached for her hand. "Wait," he said, looking up at her, his voice deep and almost raspy.
She held his hand and looked into his eyes for a long moment, before he tugged lightly, and before she knew it he was folding her into his arms and cuddling her on his lap. Affectionately, she stroked his cheek and tried to say things that would be comforting.
Then she stopped talking, and waited for the phone to ring—for Scott to call them back. Nearly half an hour passed before he did.
"Hello?" Brian said, after snatching the phone up on the first ring. Reese slid off his lap, suddenly feeling foolish for being in such an intimate position. "Yeah, what's going on?" Brian said. He waited. Then he smiled a relieved, warm, happy smile that was very contagious.
Reese's insides swirled as she waited to the hear the good news, too. Brian went on, "Oh, God, that's great... I'm so... that's great. Okay, when she wakes up, tell her I'll call tomorrow. Thanks a lot." He hung up and turned to Reese. "Danny's fine. She had a boy, and he's fine."
"Oh, that's great!" Reese said enthusiastically. Brian stood up and hugged her, and she hugged him back, unable to resist.
"His name's Jason," he added.
"Oh, Brian, I'm so happy everything worked out," she said into his shoulder.
They stood there like that for several more moments before the hug took on an erotic quality. Reese started to feel hot in Brian's arms, hearing and feeling his breathing against her neck. She found herself focusing intently on his chest pressed to her breasts, and his thighs grazing her dress, which was suddenly stifling as hell.
Slowly dragging her head up, she watched Brian turn his face and lean in closer. Their lips were barely an inch apart. And just
like that, it was about a million watts hotter in the scant space between them. A tantalizing bulge was touching her abdomen, while Brian's warm breath was teasing her bottom lip. He said, "Reese..." before closing his mouth over hers, and kissing her slowly. Wetly. Deeply.
She combed her fingers through his hair and unconsciously massaged his scalp as she slipped her tongue inside his mouth. His hands roamed lower, sliding down to clutch her bottom and squeeze it and pull her flush against his groin.
And then they fell backward.
When they hit the bed, Brian's hands were sliding up Reese's legs, under her dress, dragging it upward and grabbing at her panties. When he snapped her garters, a guttural, aroused sound burst from his throat. Mouths still fused and savage on each other, Reese pulled on his tie. Only she pulled too hard, and Brian broke the kiss, smiling against her lips. Then he loosened it himself, and tossed it off behind him.
As he plunged his tongue into her mouth, she feverishly unbuttoned his shirt, desperate to have him naked and on top of her like the night before. She wanted to feel his weight again—skin on skin—and she wanted to feel him slide in deep.
By the time he pulled down her panties, they were both gasping. Brian lowered his mouth to her abdomen and started sliding down past her belly, and Reese knew what he wanted to do, but placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"No..." she whispered. "Another time..." He looked up at her, sleepy-eyed and confused. "I want to kiss you," she said. Eagerly, he brought his mouth to hers again.
They were only half-naked, but it was enough. Except for one thing. "Shit!" he said. "Goddamn it!"
"What? What's wrong?" she asked, alarmed.
He shook his head, frustrated, then managed a self-deprecating grin. "Condoms."
"Oh!" she said, relieved that that was all. And soon they were off the bed, running to the bathroom to get one, and that was when Reese offered to put it on for him.
She rolled it on quickly, and laid a towel on the sink. Then she hopped up, spread her legs, and drew him toward her with her heels.
Panting hard now, Brian hitched her butt off the counter enough to drive into her. Immediately his head fell forward, and hers fell back. He glided in and out, each time increasing the depth and power of it. Reese moaned, and dug her fingers into his skin.
Grunting with each thrust, Brian kept moving until Reese clenched and quaked and cried out. Then he was quaking. She became hazily aware of the loud smacking sound of his thighs as they hit the side of the counter over and over, faster and faster, again and again.
After Brian finished, both of them were temporarily speechless—but then, they were partially out of breath. Reese clung to him, feeling the perspiration at his temples and on his neck. He carried her to the bed, where he set her down and lay down beside her.
Teasingly, she whispered, "What's your obsession with carrying me?"
He grinned. "You're so short, I can't resist." He brushed an errant straggle of her hair out of her eyes.
She went for a light tone. "So... here we are again."
"Yep."
"Mmm-hmm."
"Yeah..."
"Reese, I'm sorry about what happened this morning," he said suddenly. "I acted like a complete ass."
"I'm sorry, too," she said, "I don't know why I got so mad—"
"I do," he said, then, "Damn, it's starting to get cold in here." They both got under the covers and snuggled for body heat. Then Brian said, "What you said about me not wanting to make the final break from Veronica..."
"Yeah?" she said, knowing what was coming.
"Well, you were wrong." Or maybe not. Her heart kicked up, she was so glad to have been wrong. "I mean, dead wrong," he emphasized. "I acted like an ass because I... I just got so jealous. When Kenneth showed up with his mother's antique cameo or whatever it was—"
"Don't even get me started on that cameo," she said lightly.
"Well, you know what I mean...."
"No, I understand," she said, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
"Okay, here's the plan, " he said. "I'm going downstairs and telling Veronica about us—"
"No," Reese said. "Not now. After the wedding. I don't want a scene."
"But—"
"Please, it's just not worth it right now."
Brian studied her for a moment. "Okay, after the wedding is over, I'll tell Veronica everything." Reese bit her lip, and nodded anxiously. "And then I'm gonna come for you," he said thickly. "That way we can start clean. There'll be nothing between us."
"Okay," she said softly, and then had a realization. "Omigod, Brian! What are we doing? We've got to get back to the reception!" Hopping out of bed quickly, she picked her dress off the floor and tossed his shirt at him.
"Oh, yeah, you're right," he said, sliding out of bed, not as hurriedly.
"Jeez, what's my family gonna think of me? I hope they didn't notice I was gone." She zipped herself up and tried to smooth her hair back to normalcy. "What time is it?" she asked.
He stopped mid-button to look at his watch. "Uh, ten to six."
"Oh, good, cake's not being served for another half hour." Slipping her high heels on, she picked up the silver evening bag that Kenneth had left on the floor, and walked with Brain to the door.
"Why's the cake important?" he asked, as they headed out into the hall.
"Because..." she said, shimmying a little in her dress, "that's when we give our toast."
* * *
The rest of the night sailed by in a heady, thrilling haze. Apparently Veronica had been so annoyed that Brian had disappeared that she'd left. So Reese could have spent the evening in Brian's arms... but she didn't.
They had agreed that they would start clean, and that meant there couldn't be anything between them until everything was settled with Veronica.
Luckily the other Brocks hadn't noticed Reese's absence. She had told them about his sister, and how he used the phone in her room, but she left out the part about earth-shattering sex on the bathroom counter, and all of their plans for a romantic future. She didn't want to jinx that future yet, anyway.
Everyone seemed to have a wonderful time at the reception. Remmi Collindyne had indicated to Joanna that except for the orchid boutonnières, the ceremony was in exquisite taste. The "compliment" had left Joanna glowing. Aunt Jacy and Aunt Aileen led their sons, Chris and James, in a conga line that never quite picked up.
When Reese danced with her father, she told him about Kenneth, and how he had been using her as part of a deranged ploy to get access to the worst book ever written. They both ended up chuckling at how ridiculous the whole thing was, and her dad said, "Well, I suppose it's true, after all."
"What?"
" 'There is a time to wink, as well as to see.'"
Reese rolled her eyes and laughed.
Although Reese and Brian had exchanged long, meaningful looks throughout the night, they didn't give in to temptation. The only time they came close to each other was when they gave their toast, which ended up being short and sweet. Joanna sighed hugely, never so relieved, and said privately, "Oh, sweetheart, it went great!"
Reese smiled and said, "I tried to tell you, Mom. You worry too much."
By the time Reese got to her hotel room that night, she felt a fuzzy kind of happiness float through her body. Ally and Ben were leaving for their honeymoon tomorrow, Angela and Drew seemed better than ever, and her parents were still the best, and life finally seemed to be heading toward something more than just existing. Who would have thought?
Chapter 30
"What the fuck is this!" Reese yelled to an empty apartment. She pulled out her glasses and tried to read the prescription label on the bottle in her hand.
To work out some of her bitter, miserable, incensed energy, she'd decided to clean out her apartment. And she was currently tackling the medicine cabinet. School had started that Monday, and it was just a banner fucking time. She hurled the bottle toward the garbage pail, perfectly aware that s
he was whipping it way too hard and fast to make it in. Like she cared.
"Okay, next, this stupid piece of crap left here by some stupid roommate I barely even knew!" She grabbed a box of who-knew-what, and hurled it across the room. Then she slammed the cabinet shut so hard it ricocheted back and swatted her in the face. "Stupid thing, I hate you!" she yelled, slamming it back in place.
Immediately she was struck by her reflection in the mirror. Weariness, anger, and heartbreak... suddenly some of her temper drained out, leaving her enervated. Dejected. Slumping down on the toilet lid, she let out a deep, depressed sigh. Face it: This isn't working.
It had been almost a week and she hadn't heard from Brian. She couldn't believe it. How many times did she have to be hurt by him before she learned? Well, she supposed no more times now, since they were obviously finished. He'd never come for her, like he promised.
Oh, why should she even be surprised? She was just destined to be unlucky in love.
Dragging herself up, she went into her bedroom to clean her desk. Getting a sudden surge of rage—ahem, gusto—she began hurling the drawers open, grabbing their contents in both hands, and throwing them onto the floor.
Just as she was tossing some manila folders carelessly over her head, while papers dropped and scattered everywhere (and she really didn't give a fuck!), there was a knock at the door. Oh, great. With her luck, it was one of the Nazis from Res Life bearing new roommates for the spring semester.
Sighing and muttering obscenities to herself, Reese barked, "Coming!" and charged across the living room to whip the door open. (Well, to ask who it was, weigh if it warranted unbolting her five locks, and then whip the door open.) "Who is it!" she shouted, obviously uninterested in finding out.
"It's me... Brian."
Her stomach dropped... and then twisted into a big, painful knot. What was he doing there? And why couldn't he just stop hurting her? In fact, it was only with those questions in mind that she started unbolting locks.