One Breathless Night (Three Wicked Nights Book 1)

by Jo Leigh

  The closest he could come to a solid guess as to why he’d wanted to get married wasn’t flattering. Life with Faith had been simple. The least complicated relationship he’d ever had. By sheer luck he’d found a partner whose priorities were work first, adventure second, sex third. Marriage was probably on page twenty-seven, sandwiched between buying a motorcycle and learning to surf.

  He’d wanted to freeze time. Guarantee smooth sailing for the rest of his life. He sighed, disappointed at his subconscious. Idiot.

  Right now, though, Jenna was in the kitchen, undoubtedly wondering where he was and why he was taking so long. As he pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt, he made a plan for what to say to Jenna. There was no use delaying things. She deserved to know that nothing had happened between Faith and Payton, and that Payton wanted to patch things up.

  Although delaying things had its own appeal.

  Even though he knew their forced captivity wasn’t going to last, the idea of kissing her, touching her—God, making love with her—filled him with more than just lust. He couldn’t pinpoint what that feeling was. Given they’d known each other for all of ten minutes, it likely had something to do with their so-called shared trauma.

  That wasn’t fair. The situation was different for Jenna. He supposed for her it was a level-five trauma—complete devastation. He’d just have to suck it up and do the right thing because Jenna deserved that.

  With a deep breath and a mental shove out the door, he found her on the couch, still in her robe.

  She turned, even though he hadn’t made much noise. Her smile slipped. “Oh. You’re dressed.” She tightened her belt, trying to be subtle about it, and then tugged the lapels together.

  Well, that was just great. He’d managed to screw things up the minute he’d walked in the room.

  He pasted on a pleasant smile as he joined her on the couch, keeping a good distance between them. One, he imagined, an Amish father would have approved of. There were two cups on the coffee table, not the same ones they’d been using, though. The remains of a dying marshmallow told the tale.

  “I took a chance,” she said. “If you’d rather have something else, you can save yours for later.”

  “No, cocoa’s great. Thanks.” He tried a slightly different smile, one that didn’t feel completely fake, although he was pretty sure he’d missed that boat. He glanced around the room, hoping to get his head straight before saying anything, and saw... “Is that While You Were Sleeping?”

  “Yes.”

  A few seconds dragged by before he realized that was her whole answer. “I liked that movie,” he said. “And, I didn’t know until now that there could be two simultaneous screens on the wall. That’s the National Weather Center.”

  “I figured you’d want that on, with the storm and the polar vortex and all.”

  “That’s nice. Very considerate. Thank you.” He honestly was touched that she’d thought about it enough to figure out the complicated remote control, even though her expression had gone from confused to worried.

  Damn. Another sign he needed to do the right thing here and not be a selfish jerk. Jenna had made it easier for him to check updates to see if there would be a big enough break between the storm and the vortex that would allow her to go home. He knew she lived in South Shore, but he had no idea what the snow-removal patterns were for the suburbs or Boston proper.

  Jenna put her mug on the table, next to the one he hadn’t touched. “Are you all right?”

  Shit. “I’m okay, yeah. I’m fine.”

  “If there’s anything you want to talk to me about, I’m happy to lend an ear. I know you were speaking with Faith, and, well, if you two are getting back together—”

  “No, no. We’re not. But, while I was in the bedroom, I put a pair of jeans on the bed. And a T-shirt. Don’t laugh, but a pair of boxer briefs, too. I know the jeans will be too long, but you can just roll up the cuffs. Maybe put your things in the washing machine.”

  It took her a long time to respond. “Uh, okay,” she said, looking bewildered.

  He could end both of their torment right now by simply passing on what Faith had told him. Though if he did, and Jenna decided she wanted to forgive and forget with Payton, it would change everything.

  And if that happened, Rick knew there was no way she wouldn’t feel guilty as hell about having sex with him.

  While he ached to touch her, to kiss her, doing anything remotely sexual before he told her that nothing had happened between Faith and Payton would make him one step below a slimy bastard.

  The thing was if she felt guilty, the last thing she’d want to be was naked under a robe. She’d feel even worse about what they did, and damn it, he didn’t want anything to tarnish his memory of making love with her.

  It hadn’t been a mistake for him. There had been fireworks. Magic. It didn’t matter that as soon as the storm was over they’d never see each other again. She’d been the best part of this whole trip.

  He closed his eyes for a second. Took a deep breath and considered gearing up and taking a walk outside. Anything to keep his mind free of sexual thoughts.

  “Seriously,” she said. “Something seems off. Is Faith coming here or something?”

  “No. She’s actually on her way to Mexico.”

  “Mexico?”

  Thank God he’d found something to say that wasn’t what he should be saying. He picked up his mug, not caring at all that it was lukewarm at best.

  “There was a major earthquake in Mexico City. Really strong, with a lot of damage, even though the city has been trying hard to retrofit their buildings. Anyway, that’s the kind of thing she covers. Major natural events. She was a junior reporter for the Houston Press when Katrina hit, and she did an amazing job on that. Personally, I think she should have gotten a Pulitzer, but she was too new, and you know, politics and all.”

  “You’ve known her a long time.”

  “Yep. We hit it off right away. See, that’s the thing—I know Faith pretty well. That’s why it’s hard to understand what I was thinking buying an engagement ring. She doesn’t want to settle down, and neither do I. We each have a go-bag ready at all times. During tornado season, which is getting less predictable, I go out every time clouds grow from dust whirls to organizing. I have to call the team together. Well, I say team—it’s actually a bunch of interns I’m teaching. It’s a lot of excitement over a short period of time. Most often, the storms pass, but... I’m just rambling. Sorry. You’re not a student and you certainly don’t need a lesson on tornado formations.”

  “But it’s fascinating. Really. I’d love to know more. In fact, I’d love to set up a teleconference with the kids in my middle school, if that’s something you do. They’d love it. Of course, you’d have to really make it clear to them they should not be chasing tornadoes.”

  “They should be prepared,” he said. “Boston had a tornado in 2014.”

  “Yeah, it did. Although, not in Boston proper. Or my neck of the woods, but yes, a real tornado. I can tell you’re a terrific teacher,” she said, her voice softer and her smile sweeter. “So much passion.”

  She leaned in to kiss him, and it was all he could do not to jerk his head away. When her lips met his and the tip of her hot little tongue came out to sweep across the seam, his willpower took a hike.

  For a few minutes, he didn’t think of a blessed thing besides the kiss, the way she tasted like chocolate at first and then just her. Then he remembered what he had to do and guilt shot through him like an arrow. He backed off, trying to make it seem normal.

  “All right. Now I’m sure something’s off,” she said, color rising to her cheeks as she prepared to stand up. “Whatever’s going on between you and Faith is none of my business, except that it is, at least temporarily.”

  Damn it, if they weren’t sitting so close on the c
ouch it would make things a lot easier, and yet his hand on her arm stopped her. Now wasn’t the time to wimp out. “Nothing’s going on between me and Faith.”

  “I’m sure you think that’s true,” she said. “But your behavior has changed since you spoke to her. If you think you two can still salvage your relationship I don’t want to get in the way.”

  He started shaking his head before she finished. “The most I want is for Faith and I to remain friends, and if that doesn’t work out, so be it.” He wanted to leave it at that, change the subject. Keep Jenna to himself while they rode out the storm. “I’m very clear on that. You and Payton, on the other hand, you two can—”

  “Remain friends?” she said, cutting him off. Her hands went to the thick robe lapels and she pushed them up again, covering more of her throat. “Maybe. But that’s the most we’ll ever be.”

  It was too late now to do anything but tell her everything, even if he never got to see that beautiful body of hers again. Or experience the closeness they’d shared. “According to Faith nothing happened after the kiss,” he said, watching Jenna’s reaction, which amounted to very little. “And I believe her.”

  “Yeah, I know. Payton told me the same thing.”

  “You talked to him?”

  She nodded. “Last night.”

  Rick waited for her to elaborate, not that she owed him a blow-by-blow account, or anything at all for that matter. But the conversation with Payton had to have happened before she’d come to Rick’s bed. Now her chills finally made a weird sort of sense.

  “Wait, so you don’t believe him?”

  “I do. If I didn’t I wouldn’t want anything from him, especially not a friendship.”

  “So, knowing nothing happened—”

  “Look, can we not talk about this?” She finally stood up. “Unless you’ve got something to tell me about you and Faith, I’d rather not dwell on it. We’re here now, and look,” she said, raising her left hand and wiggling her fingers, “both single, I was hoping to explore the hidden features of this magic apartment. Maybe starting with the shower?”

  He stood up, too, moving close. But she was the one who leaned in for the kiss.

  Was he being a weasel for not giving her some space to rethink her position with Payton? Was that any of his business? Or did he simply accept that she knew what she wanted, even if it was the end of an engagement. Jesus, he didn’t want her to regret last night.

  He met her halfway, pulling her close against him. And when her lips touched his, they surged into a searing kiss that brought up the temperature in the room at least five degrees. After he’d undone her robe and put both his arms around her bare flesh, the kiss managed to deepen. Or maybe it was the thought of all they could do in the shower that got him hard in record time. Finally, though, he had to pull back to get some air. But that didn’t stop him from moving his hands down her back until he had a very decent hold of both butt cheeks. “My offer still stands.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  It would be easy enough to lift her up and set her back on the couch. Do all the things he’d wanted to do since they’d stumbled into the kitchen for coffee. Like open that robe and make her come with his mouth before he did it again with his cock. “The whole thing of you wearing my underwear while we wash clothes.”

  “Oh, so now it’s only your underwear?”

  He grinned. “It’s whatever you’re comfortable in. Although I think you’d be missing a rare opportunity to wear boxer briefs during a polar vortex.”

  “So you’re asking me to be mostly naked for science?”

  “Is there a nobler cause?” he asked. “I don’t think so.”

  She barked out a laugh. “Pretty much every cause is nobler than that.”

  “Yeah, well I’m just trying to be a nice guy.”

  Jenna laughed. “I so regret telling you that. But I have a better idea.”

  “What would that be?”

  “I’m thinking we should go take a shower. Together. Naked. Wet. And most definitely not for science.’

  “Oh, that is a good plan. We could go nuts with all the showerheads.”

  She pushed her hips forward, knowing exactly where she touched him.

  “Completely mind-blowing,” he said, walking her slightly toward his room. “There’s music, too. In the shower.” Another bump, and since he’d already started getting hard... “You can have any kind from country to...something else.”

  Jenna flexed her ass. Both cheeks at once. Jesus. How was a man supposed to think when she did stuff like that? “Uh, it also has heated towels. And colors and scenes like...you know.” So much for her needing space. Or him being at all coherent.

  Giving up, he finally pulled her right up against his poor hard cock, which was pressed so tight in his jeans he feared for his zipper.

  Her eyebrows went up and her eyes widened, her smile so genuinely charming he could barely keep himself from dragging her to the bedroom.

  “Although my idea trumped yours by a lot,” she said, “I still like the way you think. You’re not afraid to go off script. But you’re logical, with good common sense, and always thinking ahead, i.e. washing my clothes. Although, you’re a storm chaser, which is very illogical.”

  “Only kind of illogical. I literally wrote a book on safety and storm chasing. Besides, it’s a major rush. Kind of like kissing you,” he said, surprised that it was true. Huh. Although realistically, he’d been monogamous for five years. It was the newness of being with her, that was all.

  Jenna grinned. “If you’d kindly take your hands off my ass, we can get busy.”

  He smiled. She was definitely a better idea person than he was.

  9

  THANK GOODNESS HIS mood had lifted. She’d realized quickly that he’d gotten dressed for her benefit, and that his weird behavior was because he didn’t want her to regret anything when the storm was over.

  She knew that she’d have plenty to deal with regarding Payton, but that was for another day. When she wasn’t in a smart apartment. When she no longer had the perfect distraction in the form of Rick Sinclair.

  When she was with him, and that included times when they weren’t having sex, she was completely present. Not thinking about the fact that she’d come here with only the clothes on her back. Thank God she’d never have to dress up like a Bond girl again. That she’d put up with it for five years? That would also be thoroughly examined another day, because she did not want to be that woman.

  While he was busy with a call from his buddy Sam about the apartment, she decided to try on the clothes Rick had left out for her. The T-shirt was fine, but then she stepped into his Levi’s. To her surprise she was able to zip them all the way up, given his waist was so trim. Taking a seat on the bed, she rolled up the hems. It wasn’t very elegant. The hems were thick and they rubbed together when she walked. But that was all right. She wouldn’t be wearing them much.

  The boxer shorts, now they were going to be a lot of fun. There were at least three ways she could tease Rick with them. Right now, though, she wanted to peel out of his too-big clothes, then let him distract her some more.

  Had she ever been as daring and playful as she was with Rick? Not that she could remember.

  Of course the man she was with wasn’t ordinary Rick Sinclair. Just like she wasn’t ordinary Jenna. They were squarely in the middle of a first-time bubble. He could pretend to be anyone he wanted as long as it didn’t hurt either of them. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt her feelings if they both wanted to get a little more wicked. Maybe in the shower she could...she wasn’t sure yet what she’d do, but she was open to suggestions.

  Swishing her way to the full-length mirror, she grinned. The rolled up hems were uneven, but she didn’t mind, which was also something new. At home she’d have had the measuring t
ape out, but here? No rules. Once she was out of the shower, she’d put on the clothes again. It would feel good to wear clothes, although being naked under the robe had been exciting. Maybe she would carry this side of herself back into her world. That would be interesting, but unlikely. For one thing, she wasn’t going to be having this much sex. Or any sex, for that matter. Not right away, at least.

  Her plan was to take a nice long break from men once she got home. Give a lot more thought to what she wanted. Who she wanted to be, with or without a husband. Why it was so important to her that she have the upper hand. As far as she could tell, she’d done everything she could not to be like her mother. She loved her mom, but she hated the relationship between her parents. Still, she didn’t want her future to be reactionary. All that could ever amount to was a small life.

  She took off the jeans and laid them out on the bed, then put the rest of her après-shower wardrobe with them. Later, she’d put her clothes in the washer. There was no way to tell when she might get the chance to go home.

  It was a pity she and Rick hadn’t met a long time ago. Although how could that have ever happened? Even if they had met, she’d never have gone out with a tornado chaser. God, how much she’d have missed.

  Nope. No use going there. The object of the day was to keep her mind and body occupied. No time for soul searching or remorse. She’d found her line in the sand. Period.

  She slipped on her robe, ready to go find Rick and drag him into the shower.

  “Miss me?”

  Jenna spun around to find him at the door, leaning against the frame. Even in the white robe, he looked like sin on legs. She had to admit that his looks were a part of what made this whole thing so otherworldly. He was out of her league in that department. Not that he seemed to mind.

  “I did miss you,” she said. “Everything okay with Sam?”

  “Yep.”