“What are you looking at?” Surely a parking lot, where he normally parked his Land Rover, could not interest her.
“What color is your vehicle?”
“A dull beige. My ex-wife described it as prep-school khaki when I…”
She didn’t question him further. Since his knee ached, he leaned on the doorjamb. He watched her as she glanced around the kitchen. After she peeked inside a cabinet or two, she spun around with a saucy smile.
He tensed. “Do you like my kitchen?” Would the elegance embarrass her compared to her simple abode?
“Very much. I think my entire cabin would fit into this room, which only proves I have much less to clean.” She giggled.
Her sweet laughter made his body respond again and in a most improper way, so he stepped between her and the kitchen island.
She looked impressed with his home. He’d chosen the apartment because it included the best of everything. This room, in particular, suited him perfectly. Someday, when he built their home, he would recreate this kitchen just as it is. Someday would only happen when Penelope was totally out of his life, and his wallet. He prayed daily she’d find a new husband.
Wait. Their home?
Clenching his teeth, Jacob pushed away from the island and limped toward the living room. He would never refer to Penelope in the same breath as a future home. No, his thoughts involved the slim young woman ogling his kitchen.
“Not an option, Oliver,” he mumbled.
Her life revolves around her classes, her job at the dining hall… friends her age. Not me.
“I need a drink,” he muttered. Too bad he had class in an hour.
“Did you say something, Jacob?” She’d come up behind him.
Destiny laid her hand against his upper arm. Her eyes blinked and the overhead lights made them sparkle. When her golden lashes fluttered, the rich, blue irises disappeared, now and then. The scent of vanilla teased his nostrils. He coughed.
“Yes. I like to cook, but I admit I have resorted to eating only microwaved meals, lately. I plan to give intimate dinner parties once I’m comfortable with the people in the area. I’m new in town, so I keep putting it off.” He looked at his watch. “We ought to get going.”
Where had the weekend gone? They had eaten some, slept even less, and made love in her little bed.
How many times? Uncountable.
How many ways? Remarkable!
Those sweet memories made his cock harden, again.
“Damn!”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He sighed, knowing she should not be here in his apartment.
She certainly will not accompany me up to my office.
“I’ll just be a few minutes, if that’s okay. I didn’t realize how much this crutch slows a body down.” He clomped back to the bedroom to repack his backpack. Destiny had kindly washed off the mud. He thrust papers, office keys, and his laptop inside to fill the void, then paused.
How will I fill the void once Destiny disappears from my life?
Managing to change his clothes without losing his balance, he threw his other clothes in the hamper and carefully slipped on a loose-fitting pair of dark brown slacks. Pleased to see they fit comfortably over the bandaged left leg, he tightened the belt. He grabbed a cable-knit sweater of natural, un-dyed wool he’d purchased on his last trip to the Alps.
“Now that the weather is changing, I’ll have to rethink my entire wardrobe.” Glancing out the bedroom window at gray clouds, he recalled the trek down the muddy mountain trail, and shivered. He never wanted to feel that cold again.
When Destiny strolled in, she glanced around the large room with a proprietary air. “I like what I see.”
He followed her gaze. Walls painted navy blue complimented simple maple-stained, mission-style furniture. The hardwood floor shone like rich, dark gold and he had tossed several white scatter rugs here and there.
When she raised one blonde eyebrow at the sight of the king size bed, a heavy white coverlet sprinkled with pillows, and draped in dark blue satin, he grinned.
What would she say if I invited her to stretch out with me on my matching sheets?
When she gasped, Jacob turned to face her. He followed her attention to the picture on the wall across from the bed.
The skin of his cheeks burned. Straightening best he could, he grabbed up the crutch and fought for words to explain. He’d forgotten about that picture.
CHAPTER 9
A painting, made with swirls of bright blue and butter-cream hues, depicted the headless torso of an extremely well-endowed young female. And, it was the same torso, side by side, creating an erotic double image.
“Ah, nice breasts,” Destiny said, and Jacob couldn’t help notice her quick glance at her own. Her ample breasts did seem smaller compared to those in the painting, but at least hers had only one nipple on each.
“Ah, I received that picture as a gift from the board of directors at the Boston Fine Arts Museum. It’s called Double Playmate Torso by Andy Warhol.” His attempt to sound casual fell flat.
“Is this an original? I thought you said your ex got everything.”
“This had been bestowed on me by an employer,” he explained. “She couldn’t claim it, legally. I painted this room and chose the bedding and furniture to complement its colors.”
“I think I’ve heard of this guy, Warhol. He’s either a dirty old man, or brilliant.”
“He’s dead, now, but he will be remembered for many famous works like the Campbell’s soup can. I happen to like this subject matter more.” Realizing too late how he sounded, Jacob coughed.
Turning back to his closet, he replaced Destiny’s primitive crutch with his father’s old hickory cane. Its handle flaunted an eagle head carved in bone.
Jacob had never imagined using it again. He pushed the dark memory of his previous injury to the back of his brain. He should applaud the fact his ankle felt fine.
The bandage around his knee offered support and helped to keep the swelling down, but pain drifted up. His entire leg pulsed, along with his groin.
He had to get away from Destiny. Each time she touched him, he forgot their precarious situation. He knew he’d miss her smile, her girlish giggles, and her caring heart, but she deserved a young man. She deserved to find love with a college kid her age.
He swung his backpack over his right shoulder and set the security alarm, and she assisted him down his steps. Opening the passenger door, she smiled as he sat himself with care. His knee ached, and his groin throbbed.
“Do you have everything you need for class?”
He flicked a quick glance in her general direction, then stared straight ahead. When he finally nodded, she started the engine.
***
As Destiny let her ancient VW van’s engine idle , it gave her a chance to worry about his sudden silence. Since their conversation about the painting, he’d pulled away. Had she said or done something to upset their relationship?
Relationship? A little ahead of myself, aren’t I?
He looked deep in thought. Has he already filed away the memories of their weekend of lovemaking?
It would serve me right, inviting a stranger to my bed.
She steered out into traffic and headed up Main Street toward the campus, and Oak Hill Hall. It didn’t take long for him to come out of his shell, but she didn’t expect what he said next.
“I’ll have to stop at my office for my notes, before I head to class. Let me off at the entrance. There is an elevator in the building and my classroom is nearby.” He craned his neck her way as she drove through the center of campus.
“I appreciate all you have done for me, Destiny. I’d still be sitting in the mud on that mountain, if you hadn’t come along. We’ll probably cross paths around campus. When we do, it would be best to ignore each other. Do you understand?”
His words sliced through her with their chilling formality, and she winced at his tone. Then she caught their meaning. He meant to
blow her off.
What the Hell happened? Between our dangerous trek down the mountain, our erotic shower, nights in my bed…what could make him turn from me like this?
Helping him off the mountain had started as a friendly gesture. The shower began as an innocent way to warm his chilled body. Memories of making love with him caused heat to warm lower body parts even now, since he’d promised to teach her everything.
She had no idea there were so many ways to make love. Each position brought a new awakening that gave her a yearning for more. Before she’d met Jacob, she’d never experienced an orgasm during sex. The men with whom she’d slept never made her surrender so completely.
Jacob had.
And now he wanted nothing more to do with her? How dare he tell her how to act, the next time they met.
Of all the nerve!
Still, her body already ached to make love with him again. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel and she fought the blackness creeping along the edges of her vision. Returning to her lonely cabin didn’t sound as great, after he’d shared her bed, but was the guy worth fighting for?
Yes, Damn it.
***
Shaking off this morning’s near-confrontation by Destiny’s cabin, the stalker cruised downtown Fairfield while he speculated on his next course of action concerning the bitch and her new friend. When simple-minded Roger told him about a recent visit, he found her little hideaway. Roger’s brother was a plumber and sometimes let Roger help him on jobs. Roger, always in need of beer money, told him Destiny’s shower stopped working, so she’d called.
He recalled Roger asking him at the time why he wanted to know where she lived. He’d been smart enough to make up a story about helping her move some furniture.
“Roger believes anything I say.” He grunted. Everyone asked him for favors when they required brute strength. Yeah, he was strong.
I bet I could wrap one hand around Destiny Blake’s creamy throat and strangle her while I shove my cock inside her pussy…wouldn’t even break a sweat.
Who was that guy at her cabin? Whoever he was, he’d make sure the old codger knows when he finished with Destiny.
“I want him to know Destiny belongs to me,” he growled. He’d follow her all over Fairfield like he’d been doing these past weeks, and catch her the next time she flaunted her body around that drunk cripple. Too bad his face had been in shadow.
First he’d hurt him by hurting Destiny, unless she came around to his thinking. Then he’d beat the old lush to death with his own crutch.
***
Destiny had one more idea up her sleeve. After she pulled to a stop in front of the stately building housing his office and classroom, she garnered the courage to answer his cruel statement with a neutral query.
“What time shall I pick you up from class? My taxi service is always included in each rescue.” She tried to sound blasé, but he still would not look her in the eye. Destiny chewed on her bottom lip, as they sat in her idling van. Several students walked by, waved, and she offered a quick smile in return. Why did this friendly response to strangers seem to irritate him?
He threw open the passenger door, careful to place his cane near his thigh for support. He climbed out and flashed a brief smile. She’d hoped for a kiss.
He looked even older, somehow, and sadness lurked behind his eyes. Had she said something wrong?
“I will be fine,” he said.
For some horrible reason, she knew he lied. Her heart clenched in an ache so big, it startled her into a plea she’d soon regret.
“Please, let me come back and give you a lift home. It’s no trouble. I want to.”
“That won’t be necessary. I have an aide in my class who will be happy to give me a ride to my apartment. I don’t want to bother you any longer.”
Destiny couldn’t breathe. Her fingers curled around the steering wheel while her gaze followed his wide, muscled back as he and his cane marched into the building. All too soon, he vanished.
With dread and a heavy heart, Destiny clenched the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened and the ache made her loosen her grip. How would she endure the profound pain of his dismissal, especially after what they’d shared? However, she had to face the facts.
He didn’t want her.
***
Marcus Benton pulled his sleek black sedan into the lot nearest his classroom. He inhaled deeply, his eyes closing as he took a drag of weed. The car radio thrummed and he listened with intense pleasure as he exhaled.
“Man, I love this satellite radio station. They allow songs full of blood, gore, and sex to play all day.” As he tapped his foot to the beat of a hot new single by a group he admired more for their tattoos than talent, he thought about his game plan.
“What am I to do next time I meet up with Destiny?” If he lost his temper with her in public, she’d shy away again. But, he’d tried being charming.
“Didn’t work, neither,” he said. He stamped out his joint in a beer can, and searched the floor for a pencil and his art class notebook.
“Where’s that freakin’ notebook?” He unearthed the wayward item, hidden behind his seat, under an unopened six-pack. Locking his car, he flashed a big smile at a bunch of giggling girls, and then lumbered toward class. He pulled at the waist of his gray sweatpants with his free hand.
“I’d like to be pulling something else right about now.” He loved women, with their soft bodies and luscious lips, but he had to pass this course. A sly grin crossed his face. Maybe the professor planned to show some more erotic art with the lights down low, so he could play with himself. He wished he could pull down Destiny’s pants right about now. She always said no, but he would just keep asking her out. He’d wear her down, somehow.
Marcus jogged along the brick sidewalk, and kicked an errant pinecone into the bushes. The crisp Monday morning had transformed into a warm afternoon, but gray skies diminished the usual bright colors of changing autumn leaves. Reaching the stairs, he trotted up them, two at a time, and entered the classroom with his mind on more pleasant events. Fall meant football and he had a full varsity schedule ahead, as well as chilly nights spent huddled in the backseat of his car.
With a girl, of course.
Inside the classroom, he slumped down in the seat he’d chosen, near the back and away from the door. This way he could ogle the girls as they arrived. It might help him decide whom to date this weekend.
Destiny still might come around, but meanwhile, I need some ass.
When Professor Oliver walked in, Marcus’s prurient thoughts faded. The room’s noisy din grew silent. The professor dropped his backpack on the desk in front and then leaned against the wall.
“What’s with the cane?” Marcus muttered to a teammate on his left. More students pressed through the open door and the room filled with far more than had attended last Friday, the day the professor hit them with a pop quiz. Marcus couldn’t wait to see the faces of the ones who’d missed it.
“Yuck, yuck, assholes. Enjoy your zeroes.”
Professor Oliver glanced about the room, zeroing in on him. What had he done now? He’d parked himself in a back corner in order to hide. Squirming in his seat, nothing bad concerning the professor or the class came to mind.
Hiding his gaze from the man, he instead imagined Destiny. He dreamed a pleasant daydream where her beauty came through, warm and inviting. A better use of his time.
“Welcome. I will now pass out the corrected quiz sheets from Friday’s class.”
Groans echoed in the small auditorium. Marcus smiled. Then he chuckled at the devastated looks on the faces of those who had skipped class. He laughed aloud when several squirmed in their seats. Others smiled, too, but Professor Oliver gave them all a scornful stare.
“For those here on Friday, attached to their quiz is the promised get-out-of-class-free pass which they will use on any of the next four Fridays. Yes, you may skip class with no penalty. You others have received a zero.”
&nb
sp; The groans grew louder. Laughter from the back row erupted all around Marcus, but he held back when the professor stared at him once more. He’d done something, and it was a bad idea to get under the professor’s radar so early in the semester.
“Today, we will review chapters six through eight in your European Art of the Masters text book. The paintings and sculptures we discuss will be on the next quiz.”
Marcus gazed around the room while he twirled a pencil between his thumb and forefinger. Returning his attention to the professor, the man appeared quite pleased with himself when every other one of his students got down to work
***
Toward the end of the class, Jacob walked with cautious steps, up and down the middle aisle, favoring his bum knee. He thought about that recent Saturday morning that had started out so wonderful. He enjoyed the slow hike, happy to be alone. He’d been pleased his leg worked perfectly fine, considering he’d crushed it the night his patrol car met with a concrete bridge abutment.
It had taken years to get his body to work in a normal fashion. Then he’d fallen, and Destiny Blake had saved his ass. He shook his head, hoping to quell the desire rising up at the mention of her name.
“I did the right thing, breaking it off,” he muttered, all the while not believing a single word. His quiet statement made several students stare in his direction. Ignoring them, he padded toward his desk and opened his textbook to the next chapter. Time had dragged on, since Destiny dropped him off. He forced his mind back to the task at hand and discussed the works of Michelangelo. Minutes later, he also snuck a glance at his wristwatch.
“Okay, class, time’s up. Study chapters nine through fifteen and be ready to give a two-minute oral presentation on one piece of art.” Voices carried as his students jostled their way toward the exit. A few grumbled, but Jacob just smiled.
“Marcus, may I have a word?” Jacob reached him with a few awkward steps. Marcus stopped near the door.
“Yeah, what’s going down, Professor?”
“Marcus, do you own a car? And if the answer is yes, do you have about fifteen minutes free?” He knew he’d thrown an odd question at the huge athlete. He surveyed the young man’s face. The senior’s steel gray eyes flickered left then right before he slowed enough to answer.
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