ABOUT LAST NIGHT

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ABOUT LAST NIGHT Page 15

by Stephanie Bond


  Janine’s mouth tightened. He would never know how much their lovemaking had meant to her, not if she could help it. This little triangle she’d created had enough inherent problems without throwing love into the mix.

  Love?

  Suddenly, the metallic whine of the air conditioner roared in her ears, and the walls seemed to converge on her in the dark. Janine clutched at her chest and gasped for breath, succumbing to a full-fledged panic attack. And why not? she asked herself, grabbing a fistful of sheet. Never before in her life had she had so many good reasons to panic.

  “Relax, Janine.”

  Derek’s voice floated to her and she realized he was sitting on the bed, holding her hand. “Take shallow breaths and exhale through your mouth slowly. Close your eyes,” he ordered gently, and she obeyed.

  “Now breathe, and think about something that makes you happy,” he said as if speaking to a child.

  His suggestion fell flat, however, because his face kept floating behind her eyelids. She tried to focus, but his touching was so much more appealing.

  “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me the things that make you happy, Janine.”

  The concerned note in his voice sent warmth circulating through her chest, making her feel safe. “Peppermint ice cream,” she whispered.

  The low rumble of his laugh floated around her head. “What else?”

  “Red hats … old books … polka music … cotton sheets…”

  “Breathe,” he reminded her. “Go on.”

  “Daisies … jawbreakers … bowling … brown eyes…”

  Derek’s own breath caught in his chest. Did she like his brown eyes? His chest ached with the agony of not discussing their impromptu lovemaking. On one hand, he felt compelled to tell her the sex had been a profound experience for him, but on the other hand, she was on the rebound from an engagement to a friend of his, undoubtedly consumed with guilt over sleeping with him and losing her priceless engagement ring. For all he knew, the flighty woman might manufacture a story about the ring being stolen and marry Steve after all. He’d be a fool to reveal any of his disturbing feelings to her now, under such volatile circumstances.

  He realized her breathing had returned to normal and, eyes closed, she looked like a resting child. Her beauty seemed boundless. The more time he spent with her, the more expressions and mannerisms she revealed, each uniquely Janine, and each riveting. The woman was incredible, and he hoped Steve was smart enough to fight for her love. He hated himself for submitting to his desire for her, for taking advantage of her vulnerability during pre-wedding jitters. In doing so, he prayed he hadn’t jeopardized her chance for happiness.

  He started to withdraw his hand, but Janine’s fingers closed around his, and her eyes fluttered open. “Stay with me.”

  Even though everything logical in him shouted not to, he stretched out beside her, careful to leave a few inches between them. Janine turned on her side away from him, then scooted back until they were touching from shoulder to knee. Instinctively, he rolled to his side and spooned her small body against his. A foreign, not completely uncomfortable heat filled his chest, and he suddenly couldn’t pull her close enough. She wore a short T-shirt rucked up to her waist, revealing plain white cotton panties. His body responded immediately.

  No matter, he thought. She was breathing deeply, probably already asleep and oblivious to his state. He reached up and smoothed the hair back from her face, studying her profile, wishing he knew what made her tick. Unexpectedly, she pressed her rump-back against his arousal, and he bit back a groan. Was she merely moving in her sleep, or urging him to intimacy? Janine reached her hand back to hook around his thigh and pulled him so that his sex nestled against hers, settling the question.

  Derek buried his face in her hair, then kissed her neck while sliding his hand beneath her shirt to caress her stomach and tuck her body even closer to his. By spreading his fingers, he stroked her breasts, gently tweaking each nipple. He cupped a handful of her firm flesh, rasping his desire for her in her ear. She responded by sliding her hand back and tugging on the waistband of his boxers. He lifted himself just enough to skim the underwear down his legs, then kicked them away. Freed, his erection sought the heat between her thighs, straining against the firm cheeks of her buttocks.

  She had shed her T-shirt. With a slide of her hand and a teeth-grating wiggle, the thin panties were pushed down to her knees. Derek throbbed to be inside her, but rolled away long enough to secure a condom. Spooning her close to him again, he reached around to delve into the curls at the apex of her thighs, which were already wet. With great restraint, he inserted only the tip of his bulging erection into her slick channel from behind, and plied her nub of pleasure until she writhed in his arms, moaning his name. On the verge of climax himself, he slid into her fully, thrilling in the extra pressure of their position. Sheer concentration helped him maintain control for several long, slow strokes, then the life fluid burst from him with a force equal to that of a man who might never get to indulge in such sweetness again.

  Indeed, Derek thought as his breathing returned to normal, he would never again make love to Janine. He would go back to Kentucky, immerse himself in his work and leave Janine and Steve to work through their problems. Once Steve had singled out a woman to make her his wife, Derek knew he wouldn’t easily let her go. The panicky thought sprang to his mind that Janine might be using him to get back at Steve in some way. His stomach twisted. He suspected that Steve was unfaithful to Janine—did she as well?

  She sighed and settled back against his chest. With his head full of troubled thoughts and his lungs full of the scent of her hair, he drifted off to sleep.

  *

  Janine started awake, disoriented, but was disturbingly relieved to see Derek’s face in the morning light.

  “Janine,” he whispered, his tone urgent. “Wake up.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

  “Shh.” He pulled away her hands and flung back the covers, sending a chill over her naked body. “Janine, sweetheart, you have to get up. Now.”

  “Why?” she asked, sitting up grudgingly, wincing at her sore muscles.

  An impatient knock sounded at the door, apparently not the first.

  “Because,” he said, pulling on his underwear, his lowered voice tinged with warning. “Steve’s here.”

  *

  16

  « ^ »

  She swayed and Derek grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. “Steve’s here?” she parroted, dazed.

  “Yes,” he whispered, pulling her to her feet. “Keep your voice down.”

  Her heart threatened to burst from her chest, and her brain seemed mired in goo. “B-but what’s he doing here? How?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, fishing her panties and T-shirt from the covers. “The point is, he can’t find you here.”

  Steve banged on the door. “Derek, man, are you awake? I lost my key.”

  At the sound of Steve’s voice, her knees nearly collapsed. She bit down hard on her knuckle, terrified at what might transpire between the men if Steve found out what had happened last night. Twice.

  “Give me a minute, Steve,” Derek called, pivoting to scan the room. His darting eyes came full circle to rest on the bed. “Get underneath,” he said, shoving her clothes into her hands.

  “But I—”

  “Now, Janine, under the bed!”

  Dreading even the thought of being confined in such a tight space, she nonetheless relented, quickly recognizing the lesser of two evils. She shimmied the T-shirt over her head and practically vaulted into her panties.

  The clothes brought back a flood of erotic memories, and she felt compelled to at least acknowledge their lovemaking. “Derek, about last night—”

  “Janine,” he cut in. “We definitely need to talk, but now hardly seems like the time.”

  Contrite, she nodded, then dropped to her belly and squeezed her way under the
bed, giving thanks for her B-cup—a C would’ve rendered this particular hiding place impossible. Quickly she determined the least uncomfortable position was to lie with her cheek to the dusty floor.

  With her heart doing a tap dance against the parquet, she watched Derek’s feet move toward the door. The foggy numbness of a panic attack encroached, but she forced herself to focus on breathing. Please, please, please, she begged the heavens. Get me out of this predicament, and I’ll behave myself. Really, I will.

  Inhale, exhale. No more men until I get the ring paid off.

  Inhale, exhale. No more engagements unless I’m certain the man is right for me.

  Inhale, exhale. And no more sex until I’m married.

  The door opened and Steve’s Cole Haan loafers came into view. Janine bit her lip, certain she was about to be discovered.

  “About time, man,” Steve said, walking inside.

  “Sorry,” Derek said, and the door closed. “I was talking to … an important client. What are you doing here?”

  “Haven’t you heard? The quarantine’s been lifted.”

  She closed her eyes in relief. At least she could get out of here. Away from Derek. Her chest tightened strangely, not surprising considering her present confinement. Inhale, exhale.

  “I drove up as soon as I heard,” Steve continued. “Here.” A paper rattled. “This was sticking half under your door. It says you’re a free man.” He walked over to the window and flung open the curtains, spilling light over the wooden floor. “This place is like a tomb—it’s almost ten o’clock. I thought you were an early riser, man.”

  Derek grunted. “These damn allergies have me all messed up.”

  “Are you taking anything for them?”

  “Yeah, some over-the-counter stuff.”

  Steve laughed, a harsh sound. “If Janine were here, she’d be plying you with some cockamamy tea made from crabgrass or something.”

  She blinked, stung by the cutting sarcasm in his voice.

  “Well,” Derek said with a small laugh, “she’s definitely not here.”

  “I wonder if she knows about the quarantine being lifted.”

  “Um, I suspect she does,” Derek hedged.

  The Cole Haan loafers came closer and closer to the bed, then suddenly, the box springs bounced down, slamming into her shoulder blades and momentarily knocking the breath out of her. While gasping for air, she realized Steve had dropped onto the bed.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Derek’s angry voice penetrated her wheezing fog.

  “What?” Steve sounded confused.

  “Take it easy, you’ll break the bed!”

  Steve laughed. “Relax, man, I’m sure this bed has seen its share of bouncing.”

  Janine winced. If he only knew.

  A long-suffering sigh escaped Steve. “I guess my bed-bouncing days are over.”

  Janine frowned.

  “Man, am I going to miss being single. I hate like hell to grow up.”

  Derek’s laugh sounded forced. “I’m sure married life will suit you. From what I’ve seen of Janine—” he cleared his throat”—she seems like a great gal.”

  “Yeah, she’s a sweetheart. My parents love her.”

  But not Steve, she realized, shaken that she hadn’t noticed sooner how ill-matched they were, how they never really laughed together, shared the intimate details of their everyday life or planned for the future.

  “In fact, Janine is the first woman I ever brought home that my mother considered good enough to wear my grandmother’s ring.”

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  “An heirloom, eh?” Derek asked. “You probably arranged for her to wear a fake until you’re actually married?”

  Janine brightened considerably at the possibility.

  “Oh, no,” Steve said with nonchalance. “Mom insisted she wear the real thing. Pure platinum and flawless diamonds, about forty thousand dollars’ worth.”

  She felt faint.

  Derek made a choking sound. “Wow, you must really love this woman.”

  “She’s terrific,” he responded, and Janine wondered if Derek realized how evasive his friend was being. “It’s funny, though,” Steve continued, his voice tinged with regret. “She’s never really turned me on physically.”

  Mortification flowered in her chest. It was just as she’d feared. And in front of Derek, no less.

  “Steve,” Derek began, his voice echoing her embarrassment, but Steve seemed to be in a talkative mood.

  “Oh, she’s cute and all, and I have to admit, I’m looking forward to the wedding night.”

  “That’s … great,” Derek replied. “Hey, why don’t we grab some breakfast?” He walked to the canvas tennis shoes she’d worn last night for her moonlight treasure hunt, and bent to pick up one. Janine grimaced. She’d left them tied so tight, the material was puckered around the eyelets. Even so, she’d still been able to walk right out of them.

  The mattress moved again. Steve sat on the edge of the bed for a few seconds, then pushed himself to his feet. “I didn’t tell you she’s a virgin, did I?”

  Janine gasped, and the shoe Derek had picked up fell back to the floor, bouncing once.

  “No,” Derek said in a brittle tone. “You didn’t mention that little tidbit.”

  “Can you believe it? In this day and age… She’s the perfect wife for a politician’s family. No skeletons, no baggage.”

  “Politician, meaning your father, or politician, meaning you?” Derek still sounded a little choked.

  “Of course Dad for now, although I don’t rule it out for myself sometime in the future.”

  Another surprise, Janine noted wryly.

  “How can you be sure she’s a virgin?” Derek asked.

  Janine gasped again, then tamped down her anger. After all, she’d acted like a loose goose—her mother’s words—around Derek.

  “I mean,” Derek added with a nervous little laugh, “nothing against Janine, but how’s a man really to know?”

  “She told me,” Steve said simply.

  Well, at least he’d believed her.

  “And I asked her OB/GYN.”

  Her body clenched in fury. How dare he? Instinctively, she raised her head, which met solidly with a rather inflexible piece of wood. Pain exploded in her crown, and she bit back a string of curses.

  “What was that?” Steve asked.

  Holding her breath, Janine could feel his eyes boring through the mattress.

  “Oh, it’s the people in the room below,” Derek said, sounding exasperated. “They can’t seem to be still.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Anyway,” Steve said, shifting foot to foot, “I need to look for Janine before we eat. The wedding is back on for this evening. Mother has already worked out the details with the hotel. A small miracle, I might add.”

  Janine swallowed a strangled cry. She needed a miracle, but that wasn’t the one she’d had in mind.

  “Kind of last minute, don’t you think?” Derek asked, walking toward the door.

  “My folks think it would make great press, so it’ll be worth it, even if things aren’t picture perfect. You have to ride the media wave when it breaks, man.”

  The door opened and Steve exited first. Derek stepped into the hall, then said, “Oh, I almost forgot. I need to make one more phone call. Why don’t you wait for me in the lobby. Maybe you’ll run into Janine.”

  “Good idea,” Steve said. “Then the two of you can get to know each other a little better.”

  Janine closed her eyes, guilt clawing at her chest.

  “Uh, yeah,” Derek replied. “Give me about fifteen minutes.” He walked back inside the room, then closed the door.

  Dread enveloped her, a sensation that was beginning to feel alarmingly familiar. She inhaled too deeply, filling her nostrils with dust, then sneezed violently. Before she could recover, strong hands closed around her ankles, and she was sliding across the wooden floor, being pulled o
ut feetfirst. When her head cleared the bed, she lay still, looking up at Derek who stood over her, hands on hips. “Bless you,” he said, but his expression was decidedly unsympathetic.

  Inside he was seething, although he tried to maintain a certain amount of decorum. The crazy thing was that even in the midst of the frenetic situation, his mind and body paused to register her incredible natural beauty, her pink mouth and blue, blue eyes, her pale braided hair in fuzzy disarray, and long slender limbs, sprawled ridiculously on the floor. He had actually deflowered this lovely creature, destined for the bed of another man. Derek wanted to throw something, but instead he winced and rubbed his eyes with forefinger and thumb.

  “You really shouldn’t do that.”

  He opened his eyes. “You really should have told me.”

  She wet her lips. “Would it have made a difference?”

  “Yes,” he snapped. He wouldn’t have touched her. He ran his hand through his hair, still unable to believe the turn of events. Okay, maybe he still would have touched her, but he would have taken his time, would have tried to make the experience more special for her, which was probably what her fiancé had been planning to do. Remorse racked his chest.

  “Yes,” he repeated more gently. He leaned over and extended his hand, then eased her to her feet.

  “Derek, I can’t imagine what you must think of me—”

  He stopped her by touching his finger to her full lower lip. “I think we were both a little out of sorts—the proximity, the quarantine, the stress. What happened, happened.”

  Misery swam in her eyes. “But Steve…”

  “Doesn’t ever have to know,” Derek insisted.

  “You’re right,” she said, nodding. “Telling him would serve no purpose, and I don’t want to come between your friendship.”

  He considered telling her they weren’t as close as she might think, but doing so would only confuse the issue. “Good, then we have a pact?”

 

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