Her heart squeezed.
Did he still think of her as Danny’s little sister? They’d been having such a good time together, she’d begun to think there was something…more…there. Yes, he was still the guy she wanted to have her one great night with, but more than that he was also the guy she wanted to…
What? Be her real boyfriend? Be someone more for the rest of her life?
Her world rocked. Tilted. Changed course. Chloe dropped her head in her hands. How had this happened?
Now it would be even harder to face him on the other side of the closed bedroom door. She had feelings for him.
Dammit to hell. Wasn’t that just great? What was she going to do now? Trash her whole plan because her stupid heart had gotten involved? What was she going to do? Tell him she’d changed her mind?
Had she? Technically no. She still wanted to sleep with him. But for a very different reason.
She flopped back and stared up at the ceiling. Lying in his bed—alone—wasn’t going to accomplish anything. She had to get up and face him.
She shoved back the covers and stood. With a deep breath, she opened the door and poked her head out. The apartment was still. Silent.
“Jason?”
The ticking of the clock in the living room was her only answer. He wasn’t there.
Her stomach clenched. She should be relieved. She didn’t have to face him yet. But hurt overcame the relief. Had he been so eager to avoid her he’d left his own apartment?
On the kitchen table she found a note with her name written on it in a bold scrawl. With trembling fingers, she opened it.
Chloe: I didn’t want to wake you, but I had to get to school. There’s cereal in the cabinet and milk and juice in the fridge. I’ll call you later. We need to talk.
J
****
“What’s the best form of birth control?”
Normally Jason didn’t mind teaching sex ed. Even to a bunch of hormonal teenagers. But with Chloe on his mind every second of the day and night…well, that made it a whole different ballgame.
“Abstinence.” Hell, might as well preach what he was practicing.
The football player who had asked the question rolled his eyes. “No really. If you don’t want your girlfriend to get pregnant, what’s the best thing to use?”
An image of Chloe, belly swollen with child, his child, filled Jason’s mind. What would happen if he ended all of the subterfuge and just plain laid everything on the line? How he loved spending time with her no matter what they were doing. How he wanted to spend time with her and no one else. Ever. How he ached for her. Wanted her. Not for one night, but countless nights. He wanted to make love to her. Long, slow, passionate, emotional love.
“Mr. Williams? Birth control?”
He jerked out of his fantasy. “Try an aspirin,” he offered dryly.
Confused murmurs filled the classroom. His students exchanged puzzled glances.
“An aspirin?”
“Yeah, have your girlfriend hold one between her knees.”
The kids groaned. A few chuckled.
When the laughter died down, he continued, “But seriously. Sex is a big decision. It takes a lot of maturity to handle it. Which is why there’s nothing wrong with waiting until you’re an adult. Sexual intercourse was intended as the means for procreation within a marriage.” Not to be part of a bucket list for a crazy, wonderful, vulnerable temptress he couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Isn’t waiting for marriage a little old-fashioned?”
Jason shrugged. “It depends on who you’re talking to. My point is, sex should be something that happens between two consenting people who are committed to one another.” Is that what he wanted with Chloe? A commitment? The kind that led to “I do” and forever?
“But if you are engaging in sexual intercourse, you definitely need to use protection.” He wasn’t naïve. More than likely at least a quarter of the students sitting in front of him right now had experimented sexually in some manner, even if they hadn’t gone all the way.
“So, if the girl is on the pill, that’s all you need, right? And then we’re covered. The guy doesn’t need to worry about it.”
Several of the girls shot the linebacker a dirty look.
“Wrong. Guys need to take equal responsibility. Yes, the pill will prevent a pregnancy 99.9% of the time. But don’t forget about that other .1%. And it won’t protect you from STDs or AIDS.” Despite the serious nature of the discussion, he bit back a smile remembering his first ‘lesson’ with Chloe. She’d wanted to skip that part and get to the ‘good stuff’ too.
Or how one of their latest lessons had ended with her on the counter along the back of the lab, her legs wrapped around his waist, while he lost himself in the sweet heaven of her kiss.
“Rubbers suck.”
The crude comment once again snapped Jason’s attention back from places it shouldn’t be. He narrowed his eyes. “A condom just might save your life.”
“Do you use them?”
Although Jason respected his students enough to be open and honest with them, there were definitely boundaries that needed to be set. “Miss Simmons, have you forgotten one of the guidelines for our discussion? No personal questions.”
Even if he set aside the ethical issues, which he never would, there wouldn’t be much to talk about. They sure as hell wouldn’t be interested in how he ached with the want of holding back. Or how that was nothing compared to the ache in his heart for Chloe, who only wanted sex, while he wanted much, much more.
Since his balls weren’t being used for anything else these days, maybe he could use them to find the courage to tell her how he felt.
Chapter Eight
What did Jason want to talk about?
The mantra hadn’t left her head since the morning. It played over and over, tormenting her.
Was he going to tell her he wouldn’t be her sex tutor any more? Then again, there hadn’t been much, okay make that any, sex in the tutoring so far. He was sticking like thistle on a dog to his one lesson at a time theory. And it was getting old. She wanted him. Badly.
But did he want her?
Her and only her.
Physically, the proof was there. But was there any emotion involved at all? As desperate as she’d been to avoid emotion in her plan, now she was even more desperate to know if there was any behind his obvious physical response when he kissed her, held her, stroked her in just the right places.
What if he came right out and told her he didn’t want her? Could she handle it? Could she let him just walk out of her life? How would she explain it to Danny? The three of them wouldn’t ever be able to hang out again. Would Danny want to know why?
It was all her fault. Because of her stupid plan. She’d lose a good friend. And a whole helluva lot more.
But if he told her what she thought he was going to tell her, she’d never be able to see him again. It would be too hard. To see him, talk to him, but not touch him. Or have him touch her. Or kiss her. Or worse, see him with another girl.
She checked the clock on the microwave again, then resumed her steady tread to and fro in front of the cabinets. He’d texted—texted—and said he’d be over in an hour. With a few minutes to go, he was always right on time, her stomach tightened the knot it was twisted in.
He hadn’t even called. Maybe hearing his voice would have given her a hint about his mood. At least he hadn’t broken up with her on the phone or in a text. Is that what they were doing? Breaking up? Could you even break up with someone you weren’t really dating?
The soft knock made her jump. Her heart thumped faster. She wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts, pasted on a brave smile, and opened the door.
“Hey.” Did he notice how her voice shook around the word?
“Hi.” For a moment he studied her. His gaze swept over her face, almost as if memorizing it. Or searching for something. What was he looking for? What did he see?
“Do you want something to
drink?” She walked to the fridge.
“No, thanks.” He paused. Looked at her some more.
She fought the urge to squirm.
He took off his ball cap and put it on the kitchen table. “I…” Rarely had she seen him at a loss for words. This must be really bad.
“You wanted to talk. Talk to me.” She laid her palm on his chest. He flinched. Her hand fell back to her side when he took a deliberate step away.
Oh damn. Worse than she thought. He didn’t even want her to touch him. “What’s the matter?” As if she didn’t know.
“Nothing.” His gazed touched hers, but then darted away.
“Jason.” She closed the distance between them again. The counter stopped his retreat. She stepped into his personal space, leaving just a hair’s breadth between his chest and hers. He sucked in a breath and held it.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Right.” She hadn’t believed him the first time, she certainly wasn’t buying the non-answer a second time. She traced the letters on his shirt with the tip of her finger. “Come on.” She infused her cajoling with a touch of flirtation, hiding the ache in her heart behind the façade that always served her so well. “Tell me.”
“Stop it.” He grabbed her hand.
The underlying note of fury in his tone shocked her more than the gesture. The look in his eyes froze her to the spot. A emotional mix of anger, frustration, and…was that pain?…roiled in the blue irises.
“Wha—”
As soon as she found her voice, he cut her off. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair and huffed out a breath.
“Just,” she prompted. Her hand flattened over his heart.
“When you touch me like that I forget this isn’t real.” He covered her hand with his. Beneath her palm, the thud of his heart quickened. “I forget it doesn’t mean anything. All I can think about is touching you in return.” His fingers feathered down her bare arm. She shivered. “How you taste.” His lips nipped the corner of her mouth, coasted across her cheek, and nibbled down her neck.
Her head fell back and a tiny moan escaped on a sigh as her eyes drifted shut. Behind her closed lids, the darkness reflected the sparks shooting across her nerves.
“It makes me want you in a way I shouldn’t.” The husky murmur in her ear had her eyes popping wide. Desire had over-ridden the other emotions vying for control in his.
It took her breath away. “Wh…why shouldn’t you?”
“Oh, Chloe.” His forehead touched hers as he squeezed his eyes closed. “I forget…” The words trailed to a tortured whisper.
“It’s okay.” She smoothed her hand down his face. Rough stubble grazed her skin.
He turned to place a kiss in the center of her palm. His lips moved to her wrist. The pulse beneath the warm breath took flight and fluttered like butterflies in her veins. Her entire body hummed with the tiny, invisible wings.
His mouth captured hers to stroke with exquisite perfection. Beneath the tender kiss, hunger built. In response, deep inside her most secret place, an ache began and spread.
She wanted him to forget. She wanted him to want her. Not because of a list. But because she made him feel the same way she did when they were together. Aroused. Aware. And absolutely out of her mind with longing. Not just for the sex. But for him. Him alone.
She toyed with the hem of his T-shirt, then slipped her hand beneath the soft cotton. Under her questing fingers, the smooth, hard muscles in his taut stomach clenched. She traced up the middle of his chest and fitted her palm over his pec.
Breaking the kiss, she murmured close to his ear, “Now, it’s your turn.” She guided his hand under her shirt to place it over her breast. Could he feel the out of control pounding of her heart?
Aside from the rapid rise and fall of his chest, he went absolutely still. And then his fingers shifted. Through the satin of her bra, they feathered over the nipple. It beaded to a tight point as a shiver of white-hot pleasure rocketed to her womb.
She gasped. Then moaned when he slipped beneath the silky fabric to touch her without any barrier. At the same time, he kissed her, his tongue against hers mimicking the same slow sweep of his thumb.
“I want to see you, Chloe,” he murmured. He bunched her shirt in his hand, and then eased it over her head. And then his gaze swept over her. It was nearly as arousing as his fingers. She swore she could feel the heat of it as it lingered on the swell of her breasts, down her stomach, and back to meet hers.
His eyes smoldered as his hips nudged hers. He shaped the curve of her derriere with his hands and lifted so she could wrap her legs around him. Between her spread thighs, the strain of his arousal was hard and insistent behind the denim of his jeans.
She couldn’t wait to feel him inside her.
He walked her backwards until the table stopped their progress. With a sweep of his hand, the unsorted mail and the plastic napkin holder hit the floor and scattered. He eased her down on the butcher-block top, tore off his shirt, and joined her on the hard surface.
With both arms braced on either side of her head, he kept the full weight of his body from her, but his skin brushed hers, creating a heated friction as he dipped his head to kiss her.
His lips left hers to bestow nibbling bites along her jaw and down her throat. Above the cup of her bra, he brushed his open mouth along the swell of sensitive skin. Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him in place. Demanding he go further. Longing to feel his mouth on her. “Yes,” she murmured, the word garbled by the passion clouding her brain. “This is what I wanted.”
He froze. His lips left her breast and his gaze locked with hers. As if a switch had been thrown, the passion in his eyes was gone. Replaced with…nothing. The blue irises were flat. Empty. “I’m sorry, Chloe.”
“Sorry?” Her brain struggled to change gears. Desire clouded her senses making her head fuzzy and disoriented. Why had he stopped? “What for?”
“I can’t do this like this. I almost took you like a…” His voice trailed off. “Right on the table.” He turned away.
Loss and something like panic stabbed into her, but she fought to control it. She rubbed her hand over the tense muscles in his back. “It’s okay,” she repeated her earlier words. “It’s what I wanted, remember?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to call them back.
Jason stiffened. Moved away from her touch. “Right.” He didn’t look at her as he found her shirt and tossed it to her.
She didn’t put it on. “Jason…” She held out a hand. “Please.” Why had she said that? What she’d just experienced with him hadn’t been part of a plan or a lesson. It had been real. Honest. Had shaken her to her very soul.
And she’d ruined it.
Something told her if she didn’t fix it right now she’d regret it for the rest of her life. “Look at me.” She walked around in front of him to cup his face in both hands. She tilted it down so he was forced to obey. “I want you.” Him. No one else. Ever.
A touch of hurt shadowed his eyes. “Only so you can check off another item on your list.”
“No.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss his brow. “Not because of that. Because of how you make me feel when I’m with you.”
“How do you feel?” Something that looked a little like hope flickered to life and replaced the pain.
“Like this…” She pressed her lips to his. Not passionately. But softly. Tenderly.
He wrapped his arms around her waist to draw her close. And held her.
She savored the warm flesh of his bare back beneath her hands as she nestled into the embrace. The steady thud of his heart in her ear. The sigh that tickled her neck.
The passion, the need, was still there, but tempered, and at the same time enhanced, by the sweet emotion filling her heart. The desire would wait as she focused on the contentment and belonging settling into her soul.
The back do
or slammed against the wall.
She jumped at the intrusion.
“You really need to get that door fixed, it—” Danny’s words faltered as his eyes widened. “What the fu—” He bit off the word.
Chloe grabbed her shirt and clutched it to her chest. “Ever heard of knocking?” She risked a glance at Jason, who stood frozen, staring at Danny.
Her brother’s eyes blazed with fury as he glared at Jason. “That’s my sister, you son-of-a-bitch.” His fist shot out and caught Jason on the jaw.
Jason’s head snapped back and he staggered from the force of the blow. Blood trickled from his lip.
“Danny!” She whirled to face him. “Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing?” She dabbed at the corner of Jason’s mouth with the hem of the shirt. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” His gaze touched hers briefly before he glanced over her head. “Look, I can explain.”
What would he say to her brother? Should she say something? No, let them handle it. She wiped the cut again. “Let me get you some ice.”
“For God’s sake, put your clothes on,” Danny snarled. He glowered at Jason. “You can get the hell out of here.”
Chloe tugged the shirt over her head and then opened the freezer. Jason’s hand on her arm stopped her. “I’m fine. I don’t need any ice.”
Danny took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t touch her. I swear to God if you want to keep that pretty boy face…”
She rolled her eyes. “Men.” She wrapped some ice in a paper towel and handed it to Jason. “You, put this on your lip.” Then she turned to face Danny and planted her hands on her hips. “And you, stop being so melodramatic. You’re over reacting.”
“Melodramatic?” His face turned a mild shade of red. The pulse in his temple throbbed. “I walk in and find you half-naked with my best—with someone who’s supposed to be my friend—” He glared in Jason’s direction. “And you tell me I’m over reacting. I don’t think so.”
“Well I do.” She grabbed Jason’s shirt from the floor and tossed it to him.
He yanked it over his head. On the verge of telling him it was inside out, she snapped her mouth closed.
One Great Night Page 8
