by Donna Fasano
"That's just it," he interrupted. "What I'm feeling for you is so—" his discomfort seemed to return tenfold as he shifted on the seat "—strong." Heavy guilt coated his tone as he added, "Like nothing Marie and I ever had. Ever. Even at the very beginning of our marriage."
She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I hope you're not expecting me to regret that, or to apologize for it. Because I don't think I want to do that."
"No, I'm not expecting that," he said, smiling and shaking his head. "I guess I've been thinking about all of this for days now. Ever since the night, you know, when you asked me to kiss you, and..."
He actually blushed, and Katie's heart pinched.
Unable to resist, she teased, "And you turned me down?"
Nodding his head. "Exactly." His smile was self-conscious as he murmured, "I still can't believe I did that."
"It's okay." She patted his arm. "You've been dealing with a lot of stuff."
"Yeah, well..."
The chagrin that colored his expression had Katie feeling suddenly curious.
"There's more 'stuff' to tell you about," he said.
"Oh?"
He nodded. "If I'm going to be honest, I might as well go all the way. I want to tell you everything—" he dipped his chin and studied his hands "—but I need you to know that this isn't easy for me."
He sounded grave, and the compassion in her heart magnified until her chest felt distended and achy. She wanted to ease his path but didn't know how. All she could do was sit quietly and listen.
"What makes it so hard," he went on, "is knowing that, as a man, I'm supposed to be strong and confident."
The words surprised her, and she wondered what he was getting at. She was happy that his gaze wasn't on her face, happy that he couldn't see just how much he'd piqued her curiosity. She saw him as both of those things. And she thought it was intriguing that he seemed to be indicating that he didn't.
"As a man, I'm supposed to see what I want and go after it. But—" his voice actually cracked from the nervous tension that seemed to stretch it to the limit "—but, you see, it just isn't that easy for me."
A frown knitted her brow. When he lifted his face to look at her, she thought she saw something akin to apology manifesting there.
"You see," he said, "at the risk of repeating myself, I'm very attracted to you, Katie."
"There's a but in there, isn't there?" she asked softly. "What is it, Jason? It's okay. I want you to tell me what's going on inside your head."
He pursed his lips for a moment, studying her. Finally, reluctantly, he told her, "It's just that I don't know how to go about—" Again his eyes turned from her. "I'm just not sure how to—"
By this point Katie began to share his frustration, and the commiseration swelling inside her made her a bit impatient to get whatever it was out into the open.
"What, Jason?" she blurted, and then she grinned as she took a wild guess. "You don't know how to woo me?"
"Well, actually…" One shoulder lifted just a little. "You see, she was my high school sweetheart, Katie." He heaved a sigh before admitting, "She's the only woman I've ever been, you know, intimate with. I mean I participated in the normal teenage necking sessions with girls before meeting Marie. But those didn't really mean anything." He sighed. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm not very experienced, you know, in the bedroom."
His face flushed red.
His expression was so sweet it nearly broke her heart into a million slivers. She'd never in her life met a man more honest, more open, more tender. Yet at the same time, he was strong enough to lay bare this supposed inadequacy that had been eating away at him.
It had been guilt that had made him turn her down when she'd offered him a kiss, just as she'd suspected. But there had been something else riding on the coattails of the ghost from his past, and that something had been his insecurity—insecurity caused by his inexperience with women.
She smiled warmly at him. "Jason, that isn't such a bad problem to have."
He nodded, but refused to face her.
"Did you and Marie have a healthy sex life?" she asked.
The query made him squirm. "Katie, do we have to discuss this?"
"Yeah, we do."
Finally, he nodded and she assumed it was in answer to her question.
Katie slid closer to him, reached up and pressed her palm to his cheek, gently guiding his gaze to hers. "Believe me, I'm much less experienced than you when it comes to intimacy." She offered him a wicked grin. "But if you're willing, I'd be happy to muddle through solving this dilemma with you."
The barest of smiles curled one corner of his mouth. "Oh, I'm willing," he said.
"Then that's all it takes." Her voice lowered to a husky whisper. "Two consenting adults."
The other corner of his mouth curled, and unable to resist any longer, Katie reached up and pressed her lips right on the spot. The heat that sprouted inside her was like a swift-growing vine that coiled and twisted its way all through her body. Her blood pulsed, her heart raced, and her budding passion writhed.
She slid onto his lap, and she could feel his heart thundering like the hooves of a herd of stallions. Pressing her cheekbone into the sexy curve where his jaw met his neck, Katie took a moment to inhale deeply of his warm, woodsy cologne.
The kiss they had shared earlier had been wild and swift, sparked by the commingling of a muddle of emotions. But the danger was gone, the night was quiet and calm, and she felt the urge to slow down this time, to explore these sensual feelings coursing through her.
Jason's arms slid around her, and she found herself smiling against his neck. "See," she told him, "this is something that comes naturally. Something you never forget."
He chuckled, and she felt the vibration of it against her lips. It was a highly erotic sensation, one that had her surrendering to the urge to taste his heated skin. The moment her tongue made contact with him, his chuckle metamorphosed into a soft groan, and she felt her own breath catch in her throat.
The sash of her satin robe must have loosened, because when he slid his hand up along her arm, the fabric slid from her shoulder, exposing her skin to his touch. He pulled back his hand, as though he'd been burned.
Uncertainty hazed his gorgeous steel blue eyes.
"It's okay," she assured him.
With the tiniest of shrugs, Katie freed her other shoulder. And with no trouble at all, she was able to straighten her arms, allowing the robe to cascade down her back, revealing the lace and satin of her nightgown.
There was a moment of awkwardness, when she couldn't help but wonder if she'd been too forward in her invitation. Then his gaze began to wander over her body. His eyes followed the curve of her neck and shoulder, and ever so slowly, centered on the hollow of her throat. Katie actually felt the heavy stillness of the room, the intensity of his hungry stare pressing against her like a physical touch.
Ever so gradually, his eyes lowered, inch by inch, until they came to rest on her lace-covered breasts. The delicate pink silk was whisper soft and it only heightened the pleasure she felt when her nipples tightened beneath it.
Jason's gaze returned to her face, his ragged breathing a clear sign that he was clutched by the same heated desire as she.
"Katie."
Never had her name sounded more lyrical than it did whispered from his lips. Never had she felt more beautiful. More desirable.
But he doesn't know who you really are. The icy voice raked at the back of her brain like claws against slate. It was both shocking and startling at the same time. A shiver coursed across her skin.
Her name may be Katherine Anastasia Wellingford, but Katie Smyth was the woman she wanted to be. Especially tonight.
But you 're lying to Ja—
Katie cut off the grating, irritating voice of her conscience, refusing to let anything destroy this moment. She wanted this. Desperately.
Jason reached up, tucked his index finger under the thin spaghetti strap of her gown and slid it over
her shoulder. Then, he let it go free.
The strap weighed next to nothing, but gravity still carried it midway down her upper arm. The lace covering her breasts peeled back to reveal more of her creamy skin. Again, his gaze lowered, and the desire lighting in his eyes made it possible for Katie to forget about everything except this man, this moment.
He leaned forward, kissing the flesh that had, an instant before, been covered with soft, pink-hued lace. His lips were hot as liquid sunlight, and they melted every muscle in her body. She felt quivery and weak. And as his kisses moved up her chest to pause at the hollow of her throat, she thought she would die of suffocation. There was no physical obstruction of her breathing, only the thick, hot desire that seemed lodged at the exact spot where his lips played havoc.
Then he moved higher, nibbling his way up along one side of her neck to her ear. Katie worked to drag oxygen into her lungs, but when his silky tongue grazed across her skin, fiery shards of icy heat shot through her, seeming to short out all logical thought processes.
Passion pounded a steadily increasing beat in her veins. All she wanted was to taste his lips on hers. Feel his bare skin under her fingertips. And she couldn't wait another moment.
Cradling his face between her hands, she guided him closer and closer. Their eyes locked and held, searching, exploring, acknowledging the molten desire.
This kiss was fierce and wild, so much more like the one they had shared earlier in the bedroom. And once again, Katie felt herself being swept along the current of uncontrollable passion.
He hadn't said a word except to whisper her name, but his desire for her was revealed in his touch, in his hot, wet kiss, in the rock-hard swell of purely carnal pleasure pressing against her thigh.
Urges, wants and desires cluttered her brain until there was room for nothing else. All she could think about was slipping out of her nightgown, tugging at the buttons and belt of his uniform and pulling it from his body. To lie with him, gloriously naked, feeling the searing heat of his flesh touching hers.
His hands were all over her, on her back, her shoulders, her arms, her breasts. He was as frantic as she to touch, to feel, to explore.
Mindlessly she tugged at his perfectly knotted tie, loosening it enough to unfasten the top button of his shirt. She glanced down, and the sprig of deep red chest hair peeking from beneath the collar of his stark white T-shirt only made her more impatient and intent to see him. All of him.
Before she realized what was happening, Jason was pulling at her hands, working to imprison her wrists, and for a moment she fought him.
"Katie, Katie," he said, his tone hoarse with emotion. "Stop."
The sound of his voice was like a splash of cold, reviving water. She stilled, her eyes blinking to bring him back into focus.
"I guess I lost control there for a minute." Her words should have sounded lame and embarrassing, but the sheer honesty of them saved her.
His expression remained utterly serious as he remarked, "Me too."
He kept her wrists encircled in his grip. His tongue darted out to slide across his glistening lips. "But I don't want to move too quickly. I think this may be very important. What we have here between us, I mean. And I want us to be in full control when we explore it for the first time."
She knew he was speaking of the first time they made love together. The very idea filled her with such longing, such joy. But Jason was right, they shouldn't move too quickly.
Besides, she thought, there were still things that needed to be said. Truths that needed to be revealed before she would be free to give herself to him.
This thought made it easy for her to slide off his lap and onto the couch beside him. Her robe had fallen across his knees, and she tugged it to her, slipping her arms into the sleeves.
She should be ashamed of her wanton behavior, especially since she allowed this whole situation to happen—to escalate—even though she knew full well she hadn't been completely up-front and honest with him. She should feel guilty. She should. But she didn't.
Still, something had her murmuring, "I'm sorry." But the apology sounded so distant to her ears.
"Oh, Katie," he said. "Please don't be sorry."
The compassion and entreaty in his tone only strengthened the heavy cloak of self-reproach that had her feeling trapped.
"But you don't understand—"
"Of course I do." He smoothed a gentle hand down one side of her face.
His touch was healing, almost magical, and she wanted to lose herself in the moment. To push away the truth, the lies, and the awful anticipation of having to find the right time to tell him.
"Because I'm feeling the same way," he went on. He let his hand drop from her face. "We got carried away, that's all. And it's important that we keep our wits about us here."
She searched his gaze, wondering if he was telling her the truth. Or if he was feeling the need to give himself a little space. He'd admitted to dealing with a great many issues regarding every aspect of having a relationship with her, hadn't he?
There were ghosts in his past. He'd told her that plainly. And he was struggling with them.
But his kisses, his touch, had been as eager, as fiery as hers.
God, this second guessing was going to eat her alive.
Then stop it, she told herself.
The snake-like guilt that had been coiled in the back of her thoughts reared its head, cold-blooded and hissing. That's what was causing her to doubt all the good things she'd sensed between herself and Jason—guilt about her lies.
He'd been honest. About everything. Yet she continued to withhold the truth from him.
So tell him. She squeezed her eyes closed to shut out the silent command.
How could she? Sitting here, still breathing heavy from his touch, her hair a mess, her lips still wet from his kiss. How could she tell him she'd been lying to him from the beginning?
Suddenly the space on the couch beside her was empty. Her eyes flew open and she saw Jason buttoning his shirt and straightening his tie.
"It's late," he said.
That awkwardness was back in his tone, and his jerky body motions evinced a sudden nervousness. Or was she mistaken? Was that scaly, fork-tongued guilt making her see something that wasn't there?
Damn it.
"I really have to get back to work," he told her. "I asked the guys to give me a while so I could make sure you and Gina were okay." He glanced away from her. "So I really need to go."
"Of course," she said. "I understand."
Concern intensified his gaze. "Are you going to be all right here? I mean, you're not afraid, are you?"
"No," she assured him. "I'll be fine. Gina and I will be quite all right here alone."
He tugged absently at the cuff of his sleeve, his gaze sliding to the floor. "You should probably get some sleep. I'll be home in a few hours." He turned on his heel then, striding out of the living room and out the front door, locking it securely behind him.
Katie sat there listening to the quiet. She wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Oh, she hadn't lied to him when she'd told him she was no longer afraid. Knowing the identity of the "intruder" had put to rest all of the paranoia and fear that had plagued her. Ellen's outrageous behavior upset her, of course. And it would have to be dealt with. However, it was the kiss that was going to keep her awake. That luscious kiss, and knowing she couldn't keep the truth from Jason much longer.
* * *
It was after eight the next morning when Jason turned into the driveway, switched off the car's engine and stared at the house. He felt as if a bunch of tiny steel springs were coiled tight in his gut.
He ran his hand across his face. Although it had been a fairly quiet night on the streets of Bayview during the remainder of his shift, he was exhausted. He guessed the emotional pandemonium of last night had taken its toll on him: his fear for Katie and Gina, his anger at Ellen and finally… that kiss.
Her lips on his, the weight of her breasts in his palms,
the warm, heady scent of her skin…
He'd been stunned by the magnitude of the passion that she'd ignited in him, shocked by the depth and urgency of his need for her. He'd found it almost frightening, yet thrilling at the same time.
And the guilt those feelings had stirred! But thanks to Katie's gentle and understanding nature, he'd been able to voice all those bad feelings, he'd been able to bring them out into the open and discuss them with her. And her view on the situation had been enlightening. Katie had tried to make him understand his own feelings by hypothetically reversing the circumstances with regard to his deceased wife. Jason truly believed in his heart that Marie would want him to be happy. Because of Katie, he felt as though he understood the guilt that plagued him a little more clearly now. In fact, he felt he just might be able to move beyond it. No, there was no might about it. He was determined to move beyond it.
So why was he sitting here in his car feeling like a timid schoolboy at the mere thought of going into the house and seeing Katie? And why had he left last night with that incredible awkwardness hanging in the air?
He hated this uncertainty that hovered over him. He should march right in there, take her in his arms and plant a kiss on her lips. The mere thought made his neck start roasting and he unfastened the top button of his shirt.
He should invite her out on a date. Hey, he should ask her to go with him to Derrick's wedding. The insecurity that swamped him made a sheen of perspiration break out on his forehead.
A date. To a wedding. Sounded serious.
Would that scare her off? Would it be moving things too fast?
Damn his inexperience with women! Dear Lord in heaven. If Derrick or Reese ever got wind of this, they'd never stop jeering about it. Here he was—the manly-man cop, a guy who carried a gun and tackled thieves—and he couldn't even bring himself to think about kissing the beautiful woman living under his roof without breaking out in a sweat. It was, it was...
"It's ridiculously stupid, that's what it is," he muttered. He got out, slammed the car door shut, and strode toward the front door.
