LEARNING CURVES

by Joanne Rock

  Madeline's belly growled again, firmly protesting her plan to ask him to leave. How could she refuse a guy who'd just cooked her breakfast? She hadn't been that spoiled since … well, ever. Her father understood everything about physics except at what temperature to cook food without burning it to a crisp.

  She would allow herself this one indulgence. Then, after their omelets, she'd thank Cal politely and explain why they couldn't continue seeing each other on such awkward, nebulous terms. They needed to define their relationship and to stick to the parameters they set.

  Her conscience appeased for a little while longer, Madeline soaked up the aromas and salivated over the plate Cal sat in front of her.

  "This looks fabulous." She wondered what it would be like to be with Cal on a long-term basis. Had he cooked Sunday brunches for his wife? Hard to believe any woman would give up a man like Cal and omelets to boot.

  "Allison is teaching me how to cook," he confessed as he took the wing-backed chair across from her. "I have to admit, it's pretty rewarding."

  "I don't know the first thing about cooking. That kitchen is mostly a stockpile of the microwavable meals I live on." Madeline groaned at the first cheesy bite. "Your sister really is a genius."

  Elvis tunes traded off with Sam Cooke and Bobby Darrin, surrounding them in fifties music. Madeline felt like the school nerd who'd captured the class rebel's attention at the sockhop.

  "Why didn't I ever know that about you?" Cal asked between bites.

  "That my cooking skills are nonexistent?"

  "That you'd rather sustain yourself with cardboard dinners than ever go out?"

  "I like going out," Madeline argued. "In fact, I only just learned that about myself. I had a really good time the other night."

  She'd meant her trip to the cowboy bar, and her brief time pretending to be someone more brazen than herself. But of course, the moment she said it, she thought of that other night they'd gone out. And never made it any further than his workplace.

  She felt his eyes linger on her, but she concentrated on sipping her orange juice. His knee grazed hers, reminding her of his proximity.

  He set his fork down on his empty plate. "Then why don't we do it again?"

  Desire swirled low in her belly. A hunger assailed her that wouldn't be squelched by another bite of omelet.

  Heat clawed its way up her cheeks. She hadn't expected him to be so direct. "Well, I, um—"

  "I mean, maybe if we went out together a few times, we could get a better handle on what's going on between us." Cal smiled innocently.

  He pushed back his chair and began clearing their plates.

  "Oh." Had she misunderstood? Or did that little grin mean he'd been playing with her?

  She listened to him rattle around in the kitchen for a minute, incensed that he would tease her about what had happened between them. But then he came back with a tray laden with pineapple and oranges, strawberries, and—her favorite—raspberries. Cheese and bread sat in a little basket alongside the fruit.

  She forgot all about her frustration to marvel over his decadence.

  "You must have bought out the supermarket." She picked at a green grape hanging off one side of a crystal platter she'd owned for years and never used.

  He placed the tray on the ottoman and then pulled the wing-backed chair over beside the couch. "I had a hunch you'd been going without for too long."

  She frowned. "You're teasing me today."

  He reached over and took her shoulders in his hands. Gently, he leaned her back on the couch pillows. "I'm flirting with you, Maddy. You fast-forwarded on the mating ritual lessons so much that we skipped the flirting chapter."

  "Oh." She couldn't seem to think clearly with him inclined over top of her.

  Slowly, he eased away again, but only long enough to select a stout strawberry from the platter. He moved to sit next to her on the sofa, and brought the berry to her mouth. Touching the seeded skin to her lip, he tempted her with the scent.

  He rolled the berry along her lower lip, his gaze riveted to her mouth. "But if you have time today, we could correct that omission with a few simple exercises."

  A cold drop of juice rolled down her chin. Before she could reach to wipe it off, Cal bent over her and licked it away with his tongue.

  The movement transpired so swiftly, she might have thought she'd fantasized it, if not for the way her flesh sizzled in that one, moist spot.

  He held the berry above her mouth, his voice low and inviting in her ear. "What do you think, Maddy? Are you ready for a taste of what you missed out on last time?"

  She wanted a taste so badly she couldn't see straight. Damn the consequences. She'd hated every last minute without him this week. Right now, all her nerve endings leaped to life, as if every last one of them reached and thirsted for Cal's touch.

  She had already messed up their friendship with her determined efforts to seduce him. What could it hurt to indulge her desire for him just one more time?

  Arching her neck, she lifted her head to the dangling fruit and snapped it from the stem with her teeth. Sweet juice burst over her tongue and seeped down her throat as she chewed.

  Cal watched her like a starving man. To ensure he got the message, she licked her lips to seek out every last bit of liquid.

  She cupped his cheek in her hand and tilted his gaze to her eyes. "I'm ready for more than a taste."

  Cal about swallowed his tongue as he fought to continue breathing. For a woman who almost missed the double entendres he'd thrown her way earlier, Madeline Watson was a damn quick study.

  He placed one finger over her lips and tossed a strawberry into his own mouth to quell his sudden thirst for the taste. "But this time, we're taking it slow. We're doing things my way."

  She nipped his finger with her teeth to free her lips. "Just don't make me go without for too much longer."

  Plucking up a pineapple piece, he slid the fruit into her mouth. "Honey, I'm going to indulge you like you've never been indulged before."

  It unsettled him to realize how much he meant that statement. After seeing her sparse little kitchen with nothing but microwave meals, and knowing the way she denied herself the most simple pleasures in life, Cal wanted nothing more than to introduce her to a little excess. He wanted to feed her delicacies, wrap her in silk, and comb every inch of her waist-length hair with his fingers.

  And that scared the hell out of him. He knew Maddy wasn't looking for a long-term relationship, and last he knew, neither was he. He refused to fail at another marriage, no matter how tempting the woman. But maybe if they kept things simple, they could both be happy. What would it hurt if they remained friends and … lovers?

  He pulled the pen out of her hair that seemed to be holding the whole thing in a crooked knot. Brown silk uncoiled in a serpentine-like motion, then spread over the creamy colored couch pillows.

  He forced himself to focus on her wide, dark eyes, and not her mouth. "Are you sure that's okay with you, Maddy? We can do things my way this time?"

  A slow smile curled around the lips he was definitely not looking at. "Your way feels very promising to me."

  He needed to sure she understood. "But you're okay if we keep things just between us for a little longer, to protect Allison?"

  "I'd never want to jeopardize your guardianship."

  "You won't be offended if we lock the door and pull the curtains and hide from the world?"

  "I'll feel flattered you want to keep me all to yourself."

  Cal moved to bolt the door. "It won't be this way for long."

  Sliding the lock into place, a thought flashed through his mind about what they'd do when they had to confront the outside world again. They couldn't stay locked in here forever. Still, he couldn't turn away from her now.

  He returned to her side, grabbing a grape for each of them. "Thanks for understanding."

  "I owe you, anyway." She scooted closer to sit hip to hip beside him. "Thanks for understanding my dad."


  Her curves branded his side, scorching his flesh with her heat through the innocent brush of her soft cotton T-shirt.

  "He didn't bother me." Cal fed her the grape, keenly aware of the contrast between the cool fruit and her warm lips as she accepted it from his fingers. "We ended up getting along okay."

  "He means well, but he's pretty self-involved. It's hard for him to see beyond his science realm."

  "Unlike his daughter, who forgets to ever think about herself." And unlike him, he amended silently, who could only seem to think about her.

  She peered up at him, her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "That's not true. I'm just as self-involved as my dad. It's a by-product of being a scholar."

  He shook his head. "Just because you devote yourself to your work doesn't make you self-absorbed, Maddy. You always have time for other people—your students, Dr. Rose, my sister … me."

  As the strains of "Blueberry Hill" drifted through the room, Cal knew the one kind of fruit he'd forgotten to get for Madeline. Still, he'd remembered the raspberries, the taste he'd been craving since his first date with her.

  Reaching for a handful, he touched one to the hollow of her throat and slid it down to the neck of her T-shirt. She shifted beside him, arching upward at his teasing touch.

  He ate the skin-warmed berry off his finger and took another. Sweeping her fallen hair away from her ear, he bent over her to whisper, "You know, it's not really enough to eat one of these by itself."

  "It's not?" She radiated heat like a warmed-up engine.

  "I'd rather lick the taste off of you." Her breathing hitched.

  Slowly, he removed her glasses, careful to not pull any strands of hair along with them. She blinked as he set them on the end table. Then, he tugged her T-shirt off to expose the kind of white cotton bra he'd imagined her in long before the days of black lace and satin. He smiled to see it, gratified to think he'd known her so well, so intimately, all along.

  Sliding off the seat and onto the floor in front of it, he pressed her back to recline across the couch. Her hair cradled her like a favored blanket, conforming to the slender length of her body.

  He fought a primitive urge to tug her flannel pajama bottoms off, to feel her thighs around him again. But he'd given in to that hunger last time and regretted it. He wouldn't do it again. At least not until he'd awakened her senses and fired her need to burn as high and hot as his.

  "Cal?" Her voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

  He knew from experience her nervousness seemed to vanish when they touched. He grazed the soft plane of her belly with his fingertips, then squeezed a single raspberry over top of her navel. The juice filled the slight indentation, just trickling over both sides.

  Cal bent his head to her midriff, taking in the clean, soapy scent of her. The only trace of raspberry fragrance rested in the dark pool at her waist.

  Moving his lips over her taut flesh, he rejoiced in the small buck of her body when he inserted his tongue into her navel. Her hips curved up against his shoulder, her fingernails raked the creamy sofa upholstery.

  Still, he took his time cleaning every drop of juice from her skin, trailing his tongue along the sides of her waist to the impediment of her pajama bottoms.

  Madeline whimpered when he stopped there, wriggling her hips in unmistakable invitation.

  Tugging the green flannel pants off her, he promised himself he would not rush. He was simply gaining more ground with which to tempt her.

  Yeah, right. So he'd been dying to catch a glimpse of those thighs again. And maybe he'd been more than a little curious to see what his Lady Scholar wore for panties—white cotton with a little satin bow—but he was definitely taking his time.

  Studiously ignoring the newly uncovered terrain, he leaned over to the ottoman to retrieve a chunk of pineapple with his teeth. He kept his hands pinned to the sides of the couch to prevent the greedy touches that would speed them along too soon.

  Angling over her, he brought the fruit to rest against the slope of her breast. He slid the fruit downward, painting her skin in juice and gooseflesh as he went. At the thrust of her nipples through the white cotton of her bra, he reached to peel the straps from her shoulders, and unhooked the clasp in the front.

  As more clothes disappeared from her body, Madeline wondered if anyone had ever hyperventilated during the mating ritual before.

  Her senses swam as she stifled a gasp at Cal's provocative torment. He transferred the pineapple to one nipple and then the other before he ate it.

  Desire lurched, sharp and edgy, inside her.

  "Please," she whispered, seizing his shoulders. "I need you."

  He paused to gaze into her eyes, seeing more deeply inside her soul than anyone had else had ever bothered to look. At that moment, Madeline knew they had gone too far.

  This time would cost her so much more than before. The first time she'd lost her innocence. Now, her heart was in serious jeopardy. But she couldn't stop if she tried. Despite the threat of serious heartache, Madeline pulled Cal to her, needing the heavy press of his body on hers.

  The new weight of his chest and thighs was deliciously familiar and foreign at the same time. His solid male form didn't give an inch, yet her body molded to accommodate his. His pineapple-raspberry breath worked faster than an aphrodisiac to heat her blood.

  She reached for his shirt and dragged it over his back, off his body. The slide of his jeans against her bare thighs shifting her focus from her emotional needs to her physical hungers in a flash.

  She didn't have a chance of running from this man. All she could do was stare up at him as he smoothed his palms down the length of her arms, then lifted her hands to rest over her head.

  His lips moved down her neck to her breasts, nipping and tasting the flesh along the way. She only had to say no if she wanted to protect her heart from the inevitable break. All it would take was the slightest push of her hands against his broad shoulders.

  But she couldn't find her voice, and her hands remained wantonly stretched over her head, where Cal had placed them. She wouldn't miss her chance to be cherished and adored, if only for a few hours.

  Instead she centered all her attention on the play of his tongue over her skin, the slither of his hands along every inch of her body. When he had sampled every bit of her that was exposed, he grazed his stubbled cheek over the cotton fabric of her panties, igniting a soul-deep shiver within her.

  He rained kisses along the waistband, and tugged at the satin bow with his teeth, until she wriggled impatiently beneath him. She wanted the satisfaction of completion, the fulfillment she'd experienced only once before, in the back-spray of Perfect Timing's car wash.

  Yet even as he hitched one finger around the cotton fabric and pulled it down the length of her legs, he made no move to cover her with his body or to shed his own clothes.

  He continued to administer lazy kisses along her hip where her panties had recently rested.

  "Cal?" She grasped at his shoulders with her fingertips, desperate to hold him in her arms, inside her. Heat pooled between her legs, a swirling, restless ache.

  He ignored her plea, sliding off the couch to kneel on the floor beside her. She whimpered her frustration until he settled one thigh over his shoulder and kissed her in the most shocking, delicious way.

  "Cal," she gasped his name, then whispered, sighed and moaned it in turn as his tongue flicked over her again and again. The restless heat built until it shattered, pounding through her like a tidal wave to drown all her reservations, all her resistance.

  But he gave no quarter, gently nipping the inside of her thigh. Immediately, the slow, warm swirl began all over again, tingling through her legs and breasts.

  This time he cast off jeans and boxer shorts, pulling a condom from his pocket before he tossed aside his clothes. He covered her with his body and positioned himself between her legs.

  He felt so good against her, so right. He combed his fingers through her hair and cradled her cheek with
one hand, then eased his way inside her.

  Madeline made the mistake of looking into his eyes at that moment, connecting with him on a level that went so much deeper than his body moving within her. Unable to sort out the tangle of feelings, she squeezed her thighs around him and reveled in the intense pleasure he wrought with every thrust of his hips.

  He brought her unerringly to the brink she'd already hurtled over once. This time, he held her there, stretching out the dizzying feelings so that her release launched her even higher than before.

  He trailed her by only a moment, his body surging with the force of his final surrender.

  Madeline closed her eyes and wished she could remain there all day, shielded by his strong arms. But all too soon, the questions and uncertainties niggled at her.

  Why was she relentlessly drawn to this man when she couldn't afford to have a relationship right now? Seeing her bachelor father this weekend reminded her of the difficulties involved in making a relationship work.

  Despite her father's occasional surly disposition, he had tried his best when Madeline's mother had been around. Madeline knew her best wouldn't be good enough in the long run, either, especially for a guy like Cal who'd been burned once before. He wouldn't settle for any halfhearted commitment she might be able to make.

  Then again, she didn't know if he would even be interested in any sort of commitment from her.

  Sneaking a peek at the play of muscles across his chest, Madeline still couldn't believe the most notorious bad boy on campus had ever noticed someone like her.

  "Cal?"

  "Hmm?" He paused in the middle of kissing a tiny path from her chin to her ear.

  "What ever made you notice me?" Maybe it was a dumb time to ask. But it was the kind of question she wouldn't have the nerve to confront him with another time.

  His brow furrowed. "I've been noticing you for so long, it's hard to say."

  She could almost be content with that answer. Heaven knew, other men never noticed her at all unless she went to the trouble of body glitter and red silk. But she sensed from the way his eyes stared off into space that he was still considering the question.