That was all the break Jess needed. Gathering every shred of self-control she’d never owned, she pushed against him. Yes, she wanted Van to do her seven ways to Sunday, but he had to let her have some of the fun. To acknowledge what she could do.
“My turn now,” she growled, twisting to find leverage.
Van didn’t stop her. She caught a brief glimpse of his amusement, as if he’d been expecting her to overthrow him all along. Jess growled again, crawling up his body, determined to stamp her indelible mark over every inch…
“Ah! Fuck!”
Jess rolled to the side, curling up as a cramp the size of Idaho seized her leg and squeezed it in a vise of pain. It was only Van’s quick reaction that stopped her landing on the floor, his arms tightened around her as he shifted so she was underneath him again.
“Shit, you’re hurt.” His weight disappeared from the couch.
“No. It’s nothing. Just my stupid leg.” Jess gasped through the pain, rubbing at her thigh, trying to relax despite the fact it hurt like a bitch.
Flexing her toes just made it worse. Too soon yet. She’d have to ride it out a little longer. Tears pressed past her closed lids. Tears of frustration and anger. Humiliation. This was happening all too often, and Jess wasn’t ready to face what that might mean. Not now.
Warm fingers pushed her hands away and she was forcibly shifted so she found herself lying flat. She looked up.
“It’s not stupid. Definitely not stupid.” Van stared down at her grimly.
He propped up her knee with a pillow and worked his hands over her leg, gentle probing turning into a soft kneading as he quickly found the knot. He ran his fingers down the outline of her muscles, teasing them into submission. At first she couldn’t feel his touch through the pain, but as her leg relaxed, so did Jess. The torturous agony climbed down from a nine to a four…a two…until only a shadowy ache remained.
Jess stared at Van, as if seeing him for the first time. His movements were sure, like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Fuck. He did know what he was doing.
A chill rolled over her.
“You’re not a doctor, are you?” The first stirrings of uncertainty leapt to life.
Van glanced up and met her accusing glare with a sweet, sexy smile. “Not a doctor. No. But this isn’t my first massage either.” He managed to push more than a hint of suggestion into his words.
Jess grew warm, suddenly conscious of just wonderful his hands felt on her calf, just how close her calf was to her knee, only a few inches away from her thighs…and the thigh bones connected to the place that was becoming hot and bothered again.
She relaxed back. Everyone indulged in a sensual massage at least once in their life. Right? It was only her sensitivity—okay, loathing—of anything medical that made her wary.
To her, lusting after a doctor would be tantamount to making out with her brother. Just. Fucking. Wrong. Every doctor she’d met had a hero complex, wanted to look after her, try something new, do something to cause her pain all in the name of making her better.
Imagine taking that to bed.
Ah. No thanks.
Jess swallowed the sigh that built up fast in her throat and shoved it far down, deep in her gut. This wasn’t her, to give in to self-pity. She had a super-cute mystery man laying his hands all over her—a man who, with a little prompting, could be encouraged to utilize those fingers for far more nefarious deeds.
Except the moment had gone. Jess couldn’t fool herself any longer. Her damn leg had won this time. She shifted under Van’s ministrations, struggling to sit up. She felt spent. Deflated.
She wanted to go home.
And it sucked. That she hadn’t been able to do what she wanted hurt more than any cramp could. She shoved down her T-shirt to cover her breasts.
“I’m done for the night.” It cut Jess to the bone to have to say those words.
“Yeah, I think it’s best.”
Jess put her arm over her face, cheeks burning with humiliation.
It made it a hundred times worse, the fact that Van didn’t even try to stop her.
Chapter Three
“Let me grab my keys.”
Van pulled away and Jess sat up. She readjusted her clothing, pushing her boobs back into her bra. Her nipples were still sensitive to the touch, her brain obviously disengaged from the rest of her body as a delicious little quiver ran through her. Jess did her best to ignore it.
She set about pulling on her pants, wincing against the sharp tug of her aching muscles. She ended up leaning half to the side, using the tips of her fingers to get the waistband past her toes.
Van leaned against the counter, watching her. He’d put a fresh T-shirt on, a worn gray one that looked soft and lived in, and fit him perfectly. He looked comfortable in a smoldering, sexy kind of way. At ease.
She tensed. If he dared offer help…just one fucking word…
Wisely, he said nothing. Jess tugged on the bottom of her shirt and stood up, feeling exposed even though she was fully dressed. A small part of her hated him right now, the fact her weakness had been revealed.
“I’ll call a cab,” she growled out her intention.
Shit. Too late, Jess remembered she didn’t have her wallet. She clenched the hem of her T-shirt to stop her hands curling into fists. Worse than running away like a terrified virgin was having to be driven home like a two-year-old. Mortifying.
Van pushed off the counter and walked over. Jess stifled an inner sigh. Walked seemed too tame a word to describe the way he tracked across the room, all long, lithe steps and fluid grace. Really. Did he have to look so damn good? One small stumble, an inadvertent trip and Jess might have given in and said, “To hell with it…take me.” But not this…this…Adonis of creation. The better he looked, the more Jess wanted to slap the sexy right off his face.
Or kiss it.
She turned away. She was the only train wreck in this room.
“I’m taking you home.” He stopped in front of her.
Just like that. No preamble. Jess’s chin lifted and she went to say no. Then Van’s mouth tightened into a look so like Cole she nearly choked on her own breath. That smug, disapproving expression he wore, like he had all the answers and she didn’t even know the question. Jess hated that look.
“I know.” Van held up his hand before she could open her mouth to argue. “But I’m going to anyway. And you still may need me to help dodge that guy.”
“Who? Brad?” Jess had forgotten all about her horny housemate in the ensuing activities. She shrugged. “He’s okay. Just a little too much to drink.”
“Then I’m definitely dropping you home.”
“Fine.” Jess huffed out a dramatic sigh. With no wallet, she didn’t have a choice. But it didn’t mean she had to be gracious about it.
Van weathered her bad mood like a seasoned professional and by the time they pulled up to the house, the silence was thick with bitterness. The house was also quiet. In the time she’d been away, it had gone from party central to a graveyard. All the lights were out.
Jess checked her watch. One o’clock. The party had been verging on losing control when she left, so it was good to see everyone had packed it in early. Was it too much to hope they’d started on the cleaning?
“Uh, thanks. For everything.”
One hand on the door, Jess threw Van a quick smile. She wanted to get inside, bury her head under the covers, and pretend like tonight had never happened.
Van smiled back and his warm expression had Jess melting all over again. The night could have finished in so many different ways. And when he looked at her like that, she felt like she’d chosen the wrong ending.
“I’ll walk you up,” he said, already halfway out of the car.
And this is why it’s ending now. Van was overbearing and dictatorial. The reason
s came flooding back.
“No need.” Jess shut the door with a definite click. “I’ll see you at school. Maybe.” She waved him away, hurrying up the path, knowing her limp was more pronounced in her haste to get to the front door.
Which was locked.
Jess put her ear to wood paneling, straining to hear any noise from inside. Nothing. The party hadn’t just disbanded—it had done a full-fledged migration. If she wasn’t so aware of Van at her back—and the prickle at her nape told her he hadn’t left—she would have thumped on the door to make sure Brad or Mike hadn’t passed out in their beds. But the pure silence from inside told Jess what she already knew. Nobody was home.
The question was, had they been sober enough to remember to lock the other door?
“It’s all right. I’m going to let myself in the back.” Jess called out to Van, waving at him before picking her way through the empty beer bottles and party debris to the rear of the house.
Shit. The door was locked tight. Every window was latched, and looking under the doormat didn’t produce a magic key. Jess was locked out.
And…joy of joys. Van arrived in time to see her investigating the cat door as a possible entry point.
“Trouble?” Van asked as she straightened.
“I don’t suppose you know how to jimmy doors?”
“Nope.”
Her shoulders dropped. Perfect. Van could do everything except the one thing she really needed.
Now it would probably rain. She looked up. The sky was clear, the stars a billion pricks of light against the darkness. At least that was something. Not a whole lot. But something.
“Do you have somewhere else to go?” In the darkness, Van was barely more than a silhouette. So, why could she still feel his gaze? Waiting. Assessing.
She considered her options. The dorms would be locked up for the night by now. Tash had been her roomie, but the way Jess had flounced out when she’d left two days ago would make it all the more humiliating if she had to crawl back. Then there was Marcus. Cole’s best friend was sympathetic to Jess’s plight with her overbearing brother, but ultimately, his loyalty sat with Cole. And he’d been busy with his new live-in love, Abby. The air was always thick with sexual tension when they were together…and goodness knows what Jess would interrupt if she turned up now.
“I’m sure Mike and Brad won’t be long.” She decided staying put was her best choice. “I’ll wait out front on the veranda.”
Of course, Van followed her all the way back around. Jess plunked herself on the wooden bench by the door. As soon as she stopped moving, a chill crept across her skin, raising a rash of goose bumps. She hunched down, rubbing at her arms.
“So, you’ll wait. In the cold. In your T-shirt.” He crossed his arms, his voice tightening with each statement.
Jess shrugged. “It’s not so bad.”
He tilted his head, his eyes looking almost black in the darkness. “You could stay with me.”
Jess sensed his gaze slide over her body like a caress and the air suddenly got a whole lot warmer, reigniting the flare of desire. She’d wanted him, right up until the cramp had jerked her out of the moment. Usually, it wouldn’t have stopped her. So, why had it? She prided herself on doing what she wanted, when she wanted, fuck the consequences. But for some reason, Jess couldn’t stand the thought of Van pitying her. She’d rather walk away than have to face that.
“No. I’m fine right here.”
“Don’t be silly.” Van came halfway up the steps.
“Oh, I’m silly now, am I?” Jess asked, her voice rising.
She was a lot of things—silly could be one of them—but she’d earned the right to be what she wanted the night of her accident. She’d spent the last three years being coerced into doing things she didn’t want to do.
It’s for your own good. You’re being silly…selfish…stubborn…
No. Jess was just being Jess. And there was nothing wrong with that.
“I think you need to leave.”
Van dropped his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that—”
“It doesn’t matter how you meant it. Thanks for the ride.” Jess turned away. She was tired. She was sick of fighting. “Please. Just go. I-I really don’t want you here.” She wanted the humiliation to be over.
Van stood, unmoving, staring at her so hard she could feel the glower burn between her shoulders. Then he was gone.
Jess slumped, tension draining in a long release of breath.
“At least wear this.” He came back and shoved a fleece-lined jacket onto her lap.
“Thanks.” She might be stubborn but Jess wasn’t stupid. “I’ll give it back to you at school.” She stopped to look at him. “I never did figure out which faculty you’re with.”
“Don’t bother.” Van waved away her offer. “I’ll collect it tomorrow.”
“No. That’s okay. I can bring it Monday.” Jess didn’t want him owing her any more favors. And she didn’t know if she’d be ready to face him in the cold light of day tomorrow.
“Just keep it with you.” Van gave a resigned sigh. “We’ll be seeing each other soon enough.”
* * * * *
Brad and Mike didn’t get back until three a.m. But at least they came back.
As soon as Jess was safely inside, she heard Van’s car start up from across the street. He’d never left. She didn’t know whether to think that was sweet or just plain controlling. It had been comforting to know he was there, but of course, it had pissed Jess off too. She hadn’t needed him as a back-up plan.
Argh! She was horrible. Jess was too tired to laugh at herself. No matter what Van did, it wouldn’t have been right. She didn’t know what she wanted half the time. Which was why Jess had never made it past her two-date record. The guy always did something to annoy her and she’d find some excuse not to return his call.
Jess shrugged off Van’s jacket, surveying the mess Brad and Mike hadn’t cleaned up. It could wait until tomorrow. She bypassed the chaos and went straight to bed.
Huddled in her blankets, she turned her thoughts back to Van. Something tightened low in her belly as Jess mulled over just how much she’d liked him being in charge. He’d thrown her tonight. Kept her off balance. If her leg hadn’t given out, she’d have been sure to turn the tables. She’d have liked it to be Van writhing in pleasure.
Except Van hadn’t pressed the point too hard about Jess staying. Was it her injury—that big, juicy scar that looked like she’d tangled with a chainsaw? And lost? He hadn’t seemed bothered by it when he’d first peeled off her pants, but there was such a thing as delayed reaction. Her mangled flesh was not a pretty sight.
Jess rolled over to curl onto her side.
She was the lucky one. At least she was still alive.
A rush of tears pricked at the back of her throat. Her mom would have understood why Jess was acting like this. They’d been two of a kind, peas in a pod…Langford-stubborn. Cole had never gotten their bond, their determination to live life the way it should be—rich, full, and at top speed.
Waking up after the accident to find out her mom hadn’t made it had been devastating. And to know that she’d died, not in a blaze of glory, but while she was dropping Jess off at school… It hadn’t even made the papers.
Jess swiped at the tears threatening her lids. Her mother wouldn’t have cried. Her mother would have demanded to know what Jess was going to do next.
Jess pulled the blankets up around her ears, her fingers twisting in the bedding, her eyes gritty and tired. She’d like to know her next move too. The answer hadn’t come to her before she’d fallen into an unsettled sleep.
She woke up cooking in a swaddle of blankets, to the sound of her phone’s persistent buzz. It took a moment to realize what the noise was, her thoughts emerging from the fog of sleep into the not-so-pretty pattern of the ver
y fucking tired.
“Ay-o,” she mumbled into the phone. Consonants were beyond her.
“Jess.”
Jess shot up in bed, her eyes flying open.
“Co-Cole.” It took two attempts for her voice to work. “What time is it?”
“Ten.” His answer purred down the line, sending shivers scudding across Jess’s shoulder blades.
“Shit.” Jess gripped the phone tighter. “Sorry. It’s the weekend. I partied with some girls from the dorm last night.”
All true, and while she hadn’t drank much, the taste of stale alcohol still clung to the sides of her mouth. She rolled her tongue around her teeth.
“You were at a dorm party last night?” Cole asked, sounding oh, so reasonable.
“Yeah.” Jess released the breath she’d been holding. “Tash and I were up till late. We’re still in bed.” Her words were met by a wall of silence. Jess shifted, gathering her bedclothes around her. “Are you there?”
“Yes. I just find it interesting.” Cole sounded thoughtful. “You see, I’m at the dorm right now. Looking at Tash. And guess what?” More silence. Jess’s heart started thudding. “You’re not here.”
“I-I can explain—”
“Oh, you bet you will.” His angry voice cut across hers. “You’ll be explaining everything. Right after you tell me where the hell you are.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
And so it began. Jess tried ranting, begging, sniveling, swearing, and cool, calm rationale. Cole was impervious to everything. In the end, she gave up. Truth was, her heart just wasn’t in it. He paid her rent. He paid for everything. And the threat of cutting her off was real enough that she had to roll over. She reeled out her address in resignation.
“I’ll be there shortly,” were Cole’s final words.
As Jess hung up from one call, her phone went again. It was Tash.
“I’m so sorry, Jess. He turned up here and oh my God, when he couldn’t find you… I’ve never seen him get angry like that. I mean he’s always been so nice but I thought he was going to rip my head off.”
Not for a Moment: One Moment, Book 3 Page 3
