Lead Me On

by Victoria Dahl

  Now he could taste her and breathe her in and feel her and sink deep into her sex all at the same time. He was surrounded by Jane, absorbed by her, and pleasure wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the rightness of it.

  “Jane,” he whispered, biting a spot just below her ear. “Jane.”

  Her nails bit into his back, pulling him tighter. His strokes quickened as her legs wrapped around his hips. She pressed herself into his cock, a quiet moan telling him he was hitting just the right spot. Sweat made their movements fluid and hot. Too hot. Chase felt a bright pressure building, tightening.

  He shifted his body a little higher, and her moans turned to keening. “I want to feel you come,” he whispered. “Come again, Jane. For me.”

  “Ah, God,” she sobbed, her nails dragging down to his ass.

  Chase gritted his teeth and kept his strokes even, despite wanting to thrust frantically into her, to come inside her, fill her up.

  “Yes,” he urged as her body strained toward him. Please. He wasn’t going to last. He couldn’t hold out. She was too hot, too tight, too soft and trembling. He couldn’t…

  “Fuck,” he growled as his orgasm loomed over him. Finally Jane screamed, her body stiffened beneath him, sex pulsing tight, and Chase let go with a roar.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SHE DIDN’T KICK HIM OUT.

  Chase wasn’t so confident about his welcome that he’d dare to leave her alone and jump into the shower, but he was quietly pleased when she pulled back the sheets and motioned him to join her. The noon sun glowed through the curtains, after all. Jane had the perfect excuse to clear her throat and mention work or Jessie or one of a hundred other excuses. But she didn’t.

  Instead, she cuddled naked into his side, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, breath teasing over his chest.

  Two nights ago he’d been angry with her, frustrated that she wouldn’t share anything about her life unless she was forced to. But he’d let that go today when she’d talked about being valued and respected as if it were a priceless, rare thing. He hadn’t known anyone who respected Dynasty MacKenzie, and she clearly hadn’t respected herself.

  Chase wanted to tell her that he understood. He’d had his own problems in high school. But considering her reaction to Jessie’s stupidity…probably not a good idea. He’d just be handing her another excuse to blow him off. Better to leave the past in the past.

  Certainly Jane seemed to think so. She’d changed her name, for God’s sake, as brutal a severing from her old life as she could make. She didn’t want anyone to know about her past.

  He could live with that.

  “Tell me about your tattoo,” she murmured.

  Chase glanced down to the thick black ink that swirled around his arm. “It’s not a very good story, I’m afraid. I wanted a tattoo, and the day I turned eighteen I went in for this one.”

  “It must have taken more than a day.”

  “It took a few weeks.”

  Her arms stretched across him to trace a dark edge. “It’s nice. I’m glad you didn’t go with a naked dancing girl.”

  “I couldn’t decide on blonde or brunette, so I had to go with abstract tribal.”

  “Smart man.”

  “Maybe you should get a tattoo. You sure seem to like mine a lot.”

  “Yeah, right. Can you imagine me with a tattoo?”

  Actually, he could. It would match her hidden lush body and sexy underwear and insatiable appetite. And her secret past.

  But he wasn’t stupid enough to say that, so he just rested his mouth against her temple and closed his eyes. God, she felt good. “So no tattoos, huh? How’d you get that scar on your knee?”

  Her head shifted as she looked down, as if he was talking about someone else’s knee. “Oh, that? A fight on the playground in first grade. The girl pushed me down. I had to get stitches.”

  “Aw. Poor Jane.”

  He felt her mouth smile against his shoulder as he glanced toward the clock.

  “Damn,” he muttered at the unforgiving numbers. “What do you say we grab a quick shower and go to lunch?”

  He hadn’t realized just how liquid her body had become until she stiffened against him. He could feel her thinking. Considering the pros and cons of going out to lunch with him.

  “You’re thinking too hard again, Jane.”

  She shook her head, her hand splaying against his stomach.

  Why couldn’t she just enjoy this? Just give it a chance? “It’s just lunch.”

  “No,” she whispered. “It’s not just lunch.”

  “Okay, so it’s more than lunch. What’s wrong with that?”

  She pushed up and leaned toward her dresser to snatch open a drawer.

  Chase tried to control his anger as he watched her pull a T-shirt over her head. Just seconds ago he’d felt forgiving. Understanding. She’d missed out on a lot in her life. But, Christ, he’d lost his mom. His dad was an alcoholic. Chase had acted out. His childhood had been screwed up, too, and he wasn’t afraid to try.

  He growled, “I’m a person, Jane. Do you get that? A real person.”

  “Of course. I—”

  “I spend time with you and I have sex with you and I like you.”

  When she stood, he closed his eyes so he wouldn’t get distracted by the sight of her naked ass.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I like you, too. You know I do. But…”

  When he dared to open his eyes, she was safely covered by a pair of sweatpants. “But what?”

  “Let’s not do this.”

  “No, let’s,” he insisted. “I want to take you to lunch. I want to talk to you. I want to pretend for an hour or so that I’m more to you than just an easy lay.”

  “Chase—”

  “Am I?”

  She rounded on him with a glare. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I’m not just an easy lay!”

  “I have made clear to you from the very first day that I want—”

  “Jesus Christ, Jane, we both know what you want. I’m talking about what I want now. Not as much of a concern to you, I understand, but you could at least pretend to listen.”

  Her mouth tightened. “You’re asking for exactly what I told you not to ask for.”

  “Fine,” he snapped, whipping the sheets back. He brushed past Jane to get to his jeans. “You had a bad childhood. You’re damaged and uptight, and you don’t want to change. A relationship with a guy like me is your worst nightmare. I got it.”

  “Why are you so angry?” she shouted. “You volunteered for this.”

  Chase paused in the act of tugging on his boots. She was right. Why was he so angry? Running a hand over his hair, he bit out a few curses, then shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He yanked his laces tight and took a deep breath. “Sometimes it feels like it means more to you. And to me, obviously. My mistake.”

  From the corner of his eye he saw Jane raise a hand toward him, then slowly drop it. “Chase…”

  “I’ll see you later, Jane,” he muttered.

  She didn’t try to stop him when he walked out of the room. She didn’t walk him down the stairs or watch while he pulled his shirt on. She didn’t open the door and wave goodbye. And he couldn’t even be mad, because she’d warned him.

  Knowing full well he was making promises he wouldn’t keep, Chase told himself it was over and slammed the door behind him.

  PHONE PRESSED TO HER EAR, Jane looked around the parking lot of the bail bondsman, hoping to spy her mom’s long blond hair. Her stomach ached with regret over the argument with Chase that afternoon, and now she had to deal with this.

  “Grandma Olive, are you sure? I’ve been here for five minutes. She’s not here.”

  “She told me point-blank what she was doing.”

  “Does Mac know?”

  “Not yet. And I’m not going to be the one to tell him.”

  While Olive was still sniffing her disdain, Jane saw her mom’s car pulling up. “Mom’s here—I’ve
got to go.”

  When her mom got out of her car, her eyes widened, but she hesitated only a second before moving past Jane.

  “Mom,” Jane said. “You can’t do this.”

  Her mom walked determinedly across the parking lot, mouth set in a stubborn line. An inconvenient time for her to grow a spine.

  “Mac will be furious.”

  “Jessie is my son, too, and I’m not going to leave him to rot in that jail just because his father is angry.”

  She kept pace with her mother’s every step. “Mom, think about this. Where is Jessie going to stay?”

  “Grandma Olive has agreed to let him stay with her for a little while.”

  “And what if he runs? You’ll lose thirty thousand dollars!”

  “It’s only ten thousand now. That’s nothing. And he won’t run. He wouldn’t do that to his family.”

  “He brought stolen goods into your home!”

  Her mother shook off the hand Jane placed on her arm and reached for the door.

  “You can’t put up the house as collateral, regardless. Mac has to sign off on that, too.”

  She whirled to face Jane. “I know that. You might think I’m too dumb for words, but I do know some things. I’m putting up my car. It’s worth just enough and the title’s in my name. Now, why are you trying to talk me into leaving Jessie in jail?”

  “The motion of discovery was approved. Just give the lawyer time to look over the evidence. He could be cleared in a few days.”

  “You just want him in jail where he can’t cause you any more embarrassment. You want to keep him there so he can’t interfere with your fancy life!”

  Jane let her mom see the full weight of her fury. “Oh, yes, having Jessie locked up has been a great relief. All that hanging around the courthouse and sneaking into the jail for visiting hours has got to be great for my reputation. Not to mention the relief of getting rid of the savings that’ve been weighing me down. That’s been wonderful! Mom, Jessie’s twenty-one and he’s still a little kid. And now you’re rushing in to protect him again.”

  “I am his mother!” she shouted, tears dragging through her black mascara. “It’s my job to protect him!”

  Jane’s throat burned with the things she wanted to say. Cruel things that had built up inside her for years.

  She did the best she could, Jane told herself. She didn’t know any better. But she should have known. She should have known that you didn’t drag a little girl to prison visiting hours every month of her young life. You didn’t introduce her to a new “daddy” every other year, especially when those daddies were big, scary men with cold eyes and scarred hands. She should have seen that being trailer-park trash was hard enough without the added stigma of being a prison groupie piled on top of it. And that parents wouldn’t let their kids go to a birthday party for the stepdaughter of a convicted murderer no matter how many invitations were sent.

  But there was no point in telling her mother this. Jane was a grown woman now, and she had to let these childhood resentments go. And though Jane thought bailing Jessie out of jail was a big mistake, her mother’s motivation was pure.

  “All right,” she made herself say. “Do what you feel you need to do. Call me if there’s any trouble. I might have a fancy life, but I’m doing my best to help Jessie, too.”

  She stalked away, a giant fist tightening in her gut as she rushed off. Her own mother thought she was a selfish bitch. Chase did, too. Because she was. She was selfish. Determined to have everything she wanted. Success. Respectability. Security.

  Her mother had aimed as low as one could possibly aim. She’d prided herself on winning the affections of lonely criminals locked away in barred cells. Men who hadn’t seen a woman in a decade. That had been her idea of accomplishment. She’d demanded nothing for herself, not even a man she could touch.

  They had nothing in common…so why was Jane so terrified of becoming her mom?

  Jane stopped at her car, thumb hovering over the button on her key chain that would unlock the doors. Where was she going? To work? To the lawyer’s office? Home?

  Something was gnawing at her from the inside out. Anger and words and regrets. She found herself wishing for another explosion, something that would draw the feelings out of her, like lancing an infection.

  If Chase weren’t mad at her, she’d call and propose a quickie.

  Crud.

  Jane pulled her cell phone out and scrolled through her contacts. Nearly every single one of them was filed under the “work” heading. She found the name she was looking for and hit the call button, hoping she wasn’t making a big mistake.

  LORI LOVE POPPED THE CAPS off two bottles of beer and handed one to Jane. “Come on. Let’s sit in the living room.”

  Jane clutched the beer bottle awkwardly. It was only four-thirty. Wasn’t that too early for beer in respectable society? She followed Lori into the cheery living room. “This is pretty.”

  Lori’s eyes looked surprised when she glanced over the pale yellow walls and the white curtains billowing in the spring breeze. “Thank you!” Her gaze went to the tight grip of Jane’s fingers around the neck of the bottle. “Do you need a glass?”

  “Oh…” Did she? She hadn’t drunk beer out of a bottle in years. “No, this is fine. Thank you.”

  “So…What’s going on? Why’d you call?”

  Jane met Lori’s sympathetic eyes and couldn’t think what to say. She’d come here to talk, but now…“Are you getting excited about your trip?”

  “I can’t wait!”

  “You’ve really changed your life, haven’t you?”

  “I have.”

  Questions bubbled up in Jane’s throat. How did you do it? Do you feel different inside or the same? Did you turn your back on your past? Are you faking your way through every day? But if she asked those questions, she’d have to explain, wouldn’t she? She’d have to tell Lori that Jane Morgan wasn’t real.

  Lori’s head cocked. “Jane? What’s going on?”

  “I…” She’d kept her secret for too long. She couldn’t do it. Better to go with a smaller truth. “I’m seeing someone inappropriate.”

  “The big guy?”

  “Yes.”

  “The one with tattoos on his neck?”

  “Yes. His name is Chase.”

  Lori nodded. “Quinn told me about him. He very reluctantly admitted that Chase seemed like a nice guy before he started abusing you.”

  “He’s not abusing me!”

  Lori’s grin spread across her face. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. Quinn’s been so upset about his sweet little Jane dating a big, scary man. Do I get to meet this mystery guy?”

  “No. It’s not serious like that. In fact, it’s probably over. He’s…We’re nothing alike.”

  “Well, look at Quinn and me. I was a mechanic, and now I’m a thirty-year-old college freshman dating a successful architect. We’re not anything alike, we’re not in the same place in our lives, but I can’t imagine life without him.”

  Lori looked down at her hands. “You two are amazing together. You make him so happy.”

  “So does this Chase make you happy?”

  She shook her head. “He can’t. I feel nice when I’m with him. He’s easy to be around. But I have plans that don’t involve someone like him.”

  “Jane!” Lori laughed. “That sounds awful. ‘Someone like him’?”

  Jane’s cheeks heated. They must be red, but they felt even more than that. Aglow with fiery magenta. “You don’t understand. I want to get married someday and have children. I can’t have kids with a man like that.”

  “A man like what?”

  Jane felt horrible. She knew it wasn’t right. Chase was a good man. He’d probably be a good father. Logically, she knew that, but in the deepest part of her heart, the idea of someone like Chase terrified her. And now that she knew he was a business owner, she couldn’t pretend that it was some deep objection. Her standards were all superficial and disgusting.<
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  Jane nodded and set her shoulders. “When I was a little girl, sometimes the other kids’ dads would come to the school. To pick them up or for career day or the parents’ day lunch. And those men in suits and ties…They looked like the kinds of dads I saw on TV. They were like superheroes. Always smiling. Always polite to the other children. They were smart and shiny and perfect. I knew if one of those men was my dad, nothing bad would ever happen to me.”

  “But Jane,” Lori said slowly, “you know that’s not true.”

  “I do, but…I don’t want my children to ever think, ‘I wish my dad was like that man. I wish he were my father.’”

  Lori looked impossibly confused. “What was your father like, Jane?”

  She shook her head. How was she supposed to answer that? Would she tell the facts? My real father was a convicted felon in prison for twenty years for bank robbery. Or add a little flavor to it? I never met him, but he wrote to me from prison every week until I turned twelve, and then he disappeared. Or should she talk about Mac, who was the only real father figure she’d ever had? My stepdad was convicted of killing an old woman. He didn’t do it, but everyone was still scared of him, and he did rob a liquor store when he was young.

  Jane didn’t know what to say, so she just shook her head.

  Lori shook her head, too. “My dad was a mechanic. When he came to pick me up at school, he wore greasy coveralls. His nails were always black with grime. Always. And I never, ever wished my dad was somebody else, no matter what he looked like.”

  “I did,” Jane whispered. She felt tears welling up and took a desperate swig of her beer.

  “Then your dad wasn’t a good dad for other reasons.”

  Oh, God. That was the understatement of the year. “I know. I know it’s irrational and ridiculous. I know that. And I know I’m awful and ugly to think this way, but I’m just…”

  Lori took her hand. “What?”

  “Terrified.”