by Jenna Allen
“Milk and maple syrup. Just the way you like it.” He stepped to the bed, setting one steaming mug on the nightstand, keeping another for himself.
“Thank you,” she murmured, running her hands through her hair and wishing she had a mirror. Last year she wouldn’t have cared what she looked like in the morning, but so much had changed this felt like the first time she’d stayed over at his apartment. Awkward and thrilling and completely over her head.
“You are the only person I’ve ever known that drinks it that way.”
“You do, sometimes.” She reached for the mug, thankful for the heat on her now cold fingers. The first sip was liquid heaven.
“True. You did ruin me for station coffee.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That stuff even smells bad.”
He grinned and sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. “Why did you think I would leave?”
Her pulse thundered in her ears. To stall, she took another sip of coffee. “Why didn’t you?”
“I love here. I think I should live here.”
“You didn’t think that a few months ago.” She met his icy gaze, squeezing her mug to keep him from seeing her shaking hands.
“No, I thought you needed some space. Every conversation was turning into a fight. I know marriage isn’t easy, but we can make it easier than that.”
“If I settle for being ignored?”
“Damn it, Kayla. Did I ignore you last night?”
“You never ignore me when you want sex.”
His fierce growl tensed her shoulders as he rose from the bed, setting his mug on the nightstand so hard coffee sloshed over the sides. “Why are you making this hard?” he screamed to the wall.
“Me! You checked out of our marriage for an entire year, Paul. You want me to forget that?” She stared down at the creamy coffee so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes.
“I want you to understand. To forgive. To move past it.” He knelt on the floor beside the bed, bringing them face to face. “I want it to be like it was. I’m willing to try. Are you?”
“It’s not that.” She pulled her lip between her teeth, her throat aching as she teetered on the verge of tears. This was her marriage, her life, and she’d thought it was over. She’d mourned it like a death. “I can’t do it again.”
“Can’t or won’t? Is there something you’re not telling me? Or someone?”
“No!” She raised her gaze to his, risking that he see how vulnerable she was in her reddened eyes. “I don’t have it in me to lose you again. You have no idea how it feels to see the person you love drift away slowly and nothing you do can turn them back to you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Kay. I made a mistake in shutting you out, and another in leaving when you asked me to. Just like you made mistakes in making me crazy by picking at other things because you were hurt and asking me to leave instead of fighting for us.”
“I was fighting! I thought it would force you to see how bad things had gotten.”
His large hands framed her face and she closed her eyes, a lone tear drifting down her cheek. Warm lips kissed it away, making her stomach flutter. “I’m tired of this war, Kayla. No one is going to win. Let’s say we raise the white flags and work through it, together.
“Let’s start over, and get things back to the way they were. I don’t know what else to do than be with you. I’ll do whatever it takes to get us back. I’ll change my job, we’ll go to counseling, whatever you want.”
“I don’t want you to change your job. You’re a good cop and I don’t want to be responsible for ruining that for you.”
“I’m a good teacher, too. I’ve been breaking in rookies for years. If I get the position at the academy I’ll be able to make better rookies, better cops. It’s what I want. I just needed to talk through it with you before I made my decision. I wish you would have talked through the separation with me before you filed.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You can’t be nice one minute and then come at me with barbs like that. We know each other so well we know exactly how to say things that leave a mark. I would have talked to you, but you left.”
“I know. It took two of us to break things down. We need to work together to build it back up.”
She nibbled at her lip, trying to think. Her soul was crying out for her to take the chance, but her heart still had a big tear in it. But what was her alternative? She had to take the chance, to try and make things right.
Wrapping her hands around his, she held them on her lap and took a fortifying breath. Marriage was a funny thing. Two months ago she would have sworn she’d never give Paul Bently another chance to hurt her. But face to face with the man she gave her heart to, she realized he had that power whether she have it to him or not. She wanted them both happy, and they’d proven that apart, they were miserable.
“Will you move back in?” He leaned toward her for a kiss, but she pressed her hands against his broad chest, holding him at bay for now. “Into the guest room?”
“You don’t want me in the guest room.” The bed dipped on either side of her where he climbed up. “I can’t do this from there.” Light kisses whispered over her neck, making her squirm.
“That’s why I need you there. You’re a bit too good at kissing.”
“I am?” his mouth slid over hers, soft and wet, warm and willing.
“You know you are.” She mumbled against his kiss.
“Then why am I banished down the hall? When we have so many positions of the month to catch up on?”
“I don’t want the bedroom to be the only place we connect anymore.”
“Technically, we haven’t connected in the bedroom.” Paul sat up beside her, still smiling. “How about we compromise?”
“I’m not sleeping on the squeaky bed.”
He laughed, long and full in a way she hadn’t heard in years. How she’d missed that. “Every night, I’ll ask where I should sleep. Until you tell me to stop. I’ll be wherever you’re most comfortable.”
“You’d do that?” Her eyes welled with tears again, but of a different kind.
Paul nodded, wrapping her hand around hers. “I’d do anything to get us back. How about we go out to breakfast?” He glanced at the clock. “Or maybe lunch.”
She followed his gaze to the clock. Eleven-eleven. Wasn’t that supposed to be good luck? She wiggled her arms, letting the sheet drop between them, baring her to him.
“Lunch sounds good. But since we’re on again, I think it’s only right that we celebrate.”
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Available Now:
Desire Renewed
Romance Rekindled
Lovers Reunited
Coming Soon:
Passion Revealed
Happily Bedded Bliss box set, volume 1
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Desire Renewed
The daring lives of husbands and wives.
Erotic romance novelist Cassie is frustrated. Ever since her books started coming out her husband has no interest in sex. With the help of a book of weekly fantasies she’s trying to turn his head, but he seems unaffected. But Cassie will let nothing keep her from saving her marriage. Not the lack of a babysitter for date night, her own inhibitions, or Miss Perky Tits.
“Hey stranger,” Trevor yelled through his open window. The truck didn’t have air conditioning, or much else in
the way of amenities. It was so beat up from all of the summers of roofing I refuse to even ride in it. The bills had gotten the best of us lately, so he was roofing again. It was strange the way he could effortlessly transition from a banker in ironed shirts and designer shoes to a laborer in filthy pants and a backward baseball cap. When he dressed like that he seemed younger than ever. In moments like this I truly felt like I robbed the cradle.
“Hey yourself.” I barked back. “Open the door.” Trevor hopped out of the truck and trotted over to the front door. I hadn’t seen him awake in almost two weeks. We were both putting in as many hours as we could, trying to dig ourselves out of credit card hell. Between his golf habit, my shoe fetish, and the wedding last year we were sinking, fast.
“Home before dark, and you made dinner. I’m impressed, Megan,” he teased, opening the door and relieving me of the bag of food. Trevor pushed the door open for me to walk through while he inspected the contents of the bag.
“It’s from Wong Kong. I went through the drive thru,” I explained. “I didn’t expect you to be home yet.”
“That must mean you got everything deep fried with no vegetables in sight.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he followed close behind me.
“If you want vegetables you should have married a rabbit.” I tossed back at him as I made my way past the kitchen to the dining room. The binders hit the table with a thud. “There’s stuff in there for you too. Besides, chow mein has vegetables in it.”
“It doesn’t count as a vegetable if you only eat the noodles.” He set the bag on the counter and stalked towards me.
“I’d tell you to sue me, but I don’t need any more paperwork.”
“Long night ahead?” he asked, leaning on one of the dining room chairs.
“Yeah, and now that I’m home I’m thinking I should have stayed in the air conditioned office. It’s so hot in here.” I moved to open the sliding glass door and let a breeze in, but he blocked my path.
“Have you had a cigarette today?”
“What I do with my body is my business.” I rolled my eyes at his attempts to be paternal. He had no right to act the father figure being six years my junior.
His big, work callused hands encircled my waist as he pulled me to him; his mouth on mine, hot and insistent. Trevor’s scent, an intoxicating mix of the outdoors and pure masculinity wafted through me and I relented, allowing full access to my lips, tongue, and mouth. When I was nearly out of breath, he broke away, grinning. “Good girl, you taste much better this way.”
“I was just saving it until I got home,” I goaded him. He’d been on me to quit smoking since the moment we met. Quitting now would be like admitting defeat.
His fingers were rough as he drew up my dress, lifting me forcefully onto the dining room table. “What are you…” was all I got out before he stripped me of my pink panties. “Come on, it’s too hot to fool around,” I said, trying to close my legs.
Read on…
Romance Rekindled
Is it the end, or a new beginning?
Jess and Scott haven’t had a conversation in month that didn’t end in a fight. Making up is fun, but the clock is ticking on their marriage. Is a cross-country move the cause of their problems, or the solution?
The hum of the engines echoed in my ear. I never could sleep for long on planes. Maybe if I kept my eyes closed they wouldn’t be too puffy. I snuggled deeper into the pillow, only then noticing where my body had turned.
I peeked up at Scott’s sleeping face, his dark lashes fanning against his cheek. We hadn’t slept this close since before I found out he sold the apartment. Up until then I hadn’t been happy about the thought of moving, but I’d open to the possibility. Then the phone call came and the rug had literally been pulled out from under me. We were going, and to drive the point home, he’d sold ours.
It had been an amazing offer, and if we’d already agreed to the move, I would have been happy about it. As the days passed and moving became imminent it seemed silly to still be angry. I knew everything I held inside I wouldn’t be able to get over, so I let it out.
It was a New York problem. If Portland was to be a fresh start, I needed to leave it there, with the stack of delivery menus and perfect bagels.
I snuggled deeper into Scott, my head on his shoulder, lifting one of my legs across his. And then I realized just where my hand was. On the fly of his slacks. If there hadn’t been a blanket covering us, I might have been mortified. Instead, I was simply embarrassed and moved my hand back to my own leg.
“Now don’t do that,” Scott whispered against my hair, his warm fingers wrapping around my wrist and pulling my hand back to him. “I need to be reminded there are parts of me you like.”
Read on…
About Jenna
Jenna Allen is the original penname of Jenna Bayley-Burke, best-selling author of a dozen sexy contemporary romances. Why resurrect the old penname? It’s simple really, the Jenna Allen stories tease the line between erotica and romance, are told in first person, and delve into the intimacies of marriage. Most of my Jenna Bayley-Burke readers will love the decadent Jenna Allen stories, but not everyone likes their sexytimes edgy and kinky.
The flirty, sexy, fun of Jenna Bayley-Burke is well established and not going anywhere. (Check out the Under the Caribbean Sun series.) I hope to also tell as many Jenna Allen tales as people are willing to read. Always romantic, and with a happy ending. There can never be enough of those in the world.