Impossible Love, The Complete Before You Go Series

by James, Clare

  She is wet and tight and it feels so fucking good.

  I’m not ready for it to end, so I slow again.

  “Foster,” Jules says, her voice ragged.

  “What do you need, baby?”

  “Harder,” she moans and my balls instantly tighten.

  “Say it again,” I tell her, wanting to hear her sweet voice utter dirty commands again.

  “Fuck me harder, Foster,” she says and I start panting like a dog. She almost knocks the wind out of me. This beautiful, demanding, tough girl.

  I obey her command. I give her everything I have.

  Our wet skin slapping against each other only makes it hotter. Her moans are getting louder and I feel the pressure build.

  She is so close and I’m seconds behind her. She tightens around me and my head spins. Soon we are both calling out for each other. We are marked.

  It’s then I know, without a doubt, I won’t let her go again. I will find a way to make it work no matter what it costs.

  Chapter 25

  Jules

  Foster snuggles me in his arms, propping my bad hand up on pillows. “How’s the hand?” he ask with a flinch. “Was I too rough? Are you in pain?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m still seeing stars.”

  Foster tips his head and gives me a lifetime of kisses with the touch of his lips. So soft, so thorough, like he’s trying to memorize my mouth, my lips, my tongue. It’s soft and sweet, until he deepens the kiss, and I’m lost. This is all I’ve ever wanted. He’s all I’ve ever wanted.

  “Tell me when they fade,” he whispers. “Because I promise, you are going to be seeing them all night.”

  He’s not kidding.

  We spend the night in and out of sleep and each other.

  When I finally wake for real, I am blissfully sore and thoroughly satisfied.

  “Morning.” I lean over into Foster—a little worried about who I’m going to wake up next to. The aloof fuck buddy, the caring friend, or Mr. Sex on Steroids. Or maybe something more…

  His eyes stay closed but he gives me a smile that says I have nothing to worry about.

  “Jules,” he groans, drawing out my name in the most deliciously rough voice. That’s all it takes to have me wet and ready for him.

  He gently rolls me on top of him. “Sick day?” he asks.

  I tuck my head in the crook of his neck and get a good taste of him.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says and snakes his hand in between us.

  I growl at him and pull his hand away. “Can’t. I’ve got that case coming up. And you are on for dinner at the bistro today, remember?”

  Now he’s the one to growl.

  ***

  “So that was a little intense with your friend last night,” Jake says, stopping by my cubicle as he’s done every morning.

  “Yeah.” I let out the fakest laugh known to human kind. “Sorry about that.”

  I immediately feel guilty being alone with him. It’s ridiculous, but I do feel marked by Foster and this banter with Jake feels like a betrayal.

  “It’s fine,” Jake says. “I don’t have a problem with confrontation. Do you want me to talk to him?”

  “No,” I yell before having time to think, almost spilling my coffee in the process.

  “Okay, okay.” Jake holds up his hands. “Well then, how ’bout my place tonight? No work, just fun.”

  Now I do spill my coffee.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I mumble. I start grabbing tissues to sop up the mess.

  Jake runs down the hall and quickly returns with a roll of towels. After we clean the mess, Jake leans against the partition and stares me down, obviously waiting for an explanation.

  “Look, Jake,” I begin. “I’m so thankful that you’re letting me sit in on this case and everything you’ve taught me, but I can’t go out with you. I need to keep things professional, during business hours. Of course, I’m happy to take work home…work that I can do alone.”

  “Is this about Foster? Has he forbid you to see me?”

  “No, nothing like that. But, well, we are involved and it doesn’t seem right.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since last night.” I rub my temples, feeling a headache coming on. “But if I’m being honest, it’s been a long time coming.”

  “Ah, well, I wish you would have told me that.”

  “I know I led you on and I’m sorry. I just wasn’t sure yet and you…well, you’re great.”

  “Okay, stop right there. I don’t need pity, Jules. I get it. I do. But if you ask me, it doesn’t seem right. The bar scene, the way he is when he picks you up at the office, and what I’ve seen at your apartment. It’s more than possessive, he’s suspicious. Not just of me. I think of you too. And you know what that means.”

  “What?”

  “He doesn’t trust you—or me—because he’s not trustworthy. He has a guilty conscience. You can see it on him. I’ve had to interview a lot of clients, Jules. And Mr. D. has practically trained me in the art of human behavior. I can tell when somebody’s hiding something and I really think he is.”

  The pit in my stomach quickly morphs into anger. Just who the eff does this guy think he is? All smug and knowing. Maybe Foster was right, maybe he does want to get into my pants and all the rest of it’s been a façade.

  “That’s enough, Jake,” I snap. “I know you’re trying to make sense of this situation and I’m sure it’s rare you are ever turned down, but I won’t stand here and listen to you insult him.”

  “Fair enough,” he says, completely unfazed. “But we do still need to work on the case. I’ll have Rhonda order sandwiches. Meet you in the lunchroom at noon?”

  Unbelievable.

  “Fine. I’ll see you then.”

  I get back to work, but can’t concentrate. Something Jake said has wormed its way into my brain and I can’t get rid of it. I do understand that look Jake was talking about, and what he meant by Foster’s behavior.

  And for a minute all that self-doubt seeps back into my brain and I think maybe Jake’s right. Maybe Foster is hiding something.

  Then I get a text from Foster and that niggling feeling of suspicion melts away.

  Chapter 26

  Foster

  Lying by omission. I know that’s what I’m doing with Jules. I should tell her, I should’ve told her years ago. I convinced myself that it never came up in conversation; Jules never accused me of anything or even asked for that matter, so I wasn’t lying. If she had asked me point blank, I would’ve told her. I would’ve told her everything. This is how I justify it.

  This is the thing about doing easy work—like prepping at a restaurant. Too much idle time to think about shit. I need to get back to my plan. Stop thinking and just do.

  “Chef Paul,” I say between chops at the prep station.

  “Yes, Foster?” he says.

  “I have a favor to ask.”

  ***

  My time with Jules is running out. I only have a few days left to convince her to be with me. And if I want that, it’s time to start letting her in. I need to show her how things could be with us.

  Come to dinner tonight at the restaurant, I quickly type in my phone before I can give it a second thought.

  Really?!!! Jules instantly types back. She knows what a big deal it is. I never invite anyone to the restaurants I’ve worked at. It’s always been my private place where I can just be without worrying about what anyone else thinks.

  Seriously, I type back. Cab it down here when you’re done with work.

  Jules: Done!

  Me: That douchebag isn’t still hitting on you is he?

  Jules: No idea what you’re talking about!

  Me: Jules, I’m not playing. Tell him to keep his paws off.

  Jules: Down boy!

  Me: You won’t be saying that later.

  Jules: This is inappropriate. It’s not even lunch time yet.

  Me: It could be.

  Jules: Get back
to work, I want to be impressed.

  Me: Prepare to be dazzled.

  Jules: See you soon, can’t wait.

  Me: Ditto.

  For the next five hours I work to dazzle her.

  Chapter 27

  Jules

  Foster greets me at the front door of the bistro, wearing a white chef’s coat and black pants. His hair is slicked back from his face and he looks good enough to eat. Chef Paul has agreed to let him serve me all his new dishes. I don’t know how Foster pulled it off. Each day brings a new surprise.

  He’s already served me grilled prawns for an appetizer and a green salad with hazelnuts—my favorite—when another chef pulls up a seat at my table. He’s thin and smiley with a ton of unruly red hair.

  “Hi,” he says extending an arm. “I just had to come out and see what all the fuss was about. You must be Jules.”

  “I am,” I say, waiting for his introduction.

  “Jared,” he says. “I’m the kitchen manager. Taught Foster everything he knows,” he teases.

  “Well, you’ve done a wonderful job.” I play along.

  “We’ve heard a lot about you back there.” He points to the kitchen. “Jules this, Jules that. Jules is a brilliant law student. Jules takes amazing pictures.”

  My face flushes. It is so unlike Foster to share personal information…with anyone. I don’t even know what to say.

  “Really?” I ask.

  “Yup.” He nods. “We may have to pry it out of him from time to time, but you are definitely a favorite conversation topic. Now that I’ve met you, I can see why.”

  I continue turning brighter shades of red. “Please.” I wave away the embarrassing words.

  He smiles again and pats my shoulder. “Well, I better get back there before Foster burns down the place. Nice meeting you, Jules.”

  “You too.”

  I did not expect that tonight.

  A few minutes later, Foster brings out my vegetable pasta. I have a hard time meeting his eyes when he does, knowing that he’s been talking about me to his coworkers. It goes unnoticed because at least three tables in the restaurant ask for the same dish, so he’s asked to help out at the sauté station. It is a huge deal, but Foster handles it all with ease. He’s so together here—organized, confident, respected, and great at what he does. I’m warm with pride.

  I take my time, savoring the meal and sipping a Pinot Gris until he’s finished in the kitchen. The restaurant is almost empty when Foster joins me with a chocolate layer cake and two espressos.

  “So what did you think?” he asks with a grimace, like he’s nervous for my reaction.

  “I think you are freaking awesome. And so did everyone else.” I grab his hands and squeeze. “Was Chef Paul mad when the others asked for your food?”

  “No. Quite the opposite, actually.”

  “I am so impressed, so proud of you.”

  “As much as I hate to say it, I think you were right. I could do this—run my own place. I think I could even be successful.”

  “Well, one, I’m always right and the sooner you understand that the better. And two, you already are successful. I know you could do it. I know you’d be great.”

  I’m comfortable and content from the incredible food and wine—not to mention my company—so I sit back and devour my chocolate cake while Foster shares his dreams.

  ***

  It was the perfect night. Seeing this new side of Foster has me crazy with lust. Honestly, I can’t keep my hands off him. On the way home, he drives my car and I get an idea. Something I’ve never done in all of our time together. Not because I didn’t want to, more because the opportunity never presented itself. And Foster’s always been in the lead.

  Tonight, I want to change that.

  He pulls me over to his side, where I rest my head while he drives, letting my good hand travel over him.

  “The things I’m going to do to you when we get home.” He kisses my head, continuing to navigate our way back to the apartment. “You better be ready.”

  “I can’t wait until we get home,” I tell him as I slide down his body. I tug on his pants so he knows what I mean.

  “Are you kidding me?” he chuckles. “Do you want us to get into an accident?”

  “Shhh,” I whisper. “Hush now and help me with this button.”

  Chapter 28

  Foster

  Christ, I have fantasized about this. So many damn times. Stroking Jules’ face, while her lips are wrapped around me. Watching her take me in her sassy-ass mouth, teasing me with her tongue. But I’ve always tried to stay in control with her, because I knew if we ever went too far, if I ever let her in too much…

  Tonight proved we’ve already gone beyond the point of no return. And I can’t say no to what she’s offering now. When we stop at a red light, I flick open the button on my pants and pull them down past my hips. Jules looks up at me with her soft eyes and gives me the tiniest of smiles, like I’m the most amazing thing she’s ever seen. Like she’d rather be nowhere else in this moment.

  She grips me with her good hand and her mouth slides down over my shaft. It seriously messes me up for a second. I feel drunk, high, lost in her. My eyes cloud over and it takes everything in me not to close them and enjoy every single second.

  I keep one hand on the wheel and the other rests on her head, feeling her move down on me. I stroke her silky hair and take short breaths, desperately looking for a place to pull over before I get both of us killed.

  Don’t get me wrong, this would be a great way to go.

  Once I stop the car, I look down at her and watch her take me deep. All the way. It feels fucking awesome, the way she picks up the pace, sucking harder.

  Oh, Christ.

  “Fuck, Jules,” I gasp. “Don’t stop. Right there, righ—”

  I pull away so I don’t come in her mouth. She shakes her head and pushes my hip down, fastening her lips around me even tighter. Until I let go.

  The explosion behind my eyelids is otherworldly. And not just because the whole scene was amazingly hot, it’s this girl who does this to me.

  “I love,” I start without thinking, still letting my heart run the show. But my head knows it’s too soon. “I loved that. You are incredible.”

  “Yeah, well, I thought I needed to do something for you after you slaved in the kitchen for my ten-course meal.”

  “Hmmm.” I grin, keeping it light. “So that’s how we play, quid pro quo?”

  She smiles.

  “Okay,” I tell her. “I can do that.”

  So up in her room, I reward her for a job well done.

  Twice.

  ***

  Usually our pillow talk is light and fun. Tonight, though, Jules has turned serious, solemn even. Something more is going on between us and I think we’re both trying to get our arms around it.

  “I guess I don’t understand why you’d be interested in me,” Jules says, all tucked in and adorable under the covers.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, not understanding what she’s getting at here. “Do you want me to give you a list? If you need me to, I’ll even alphabetize it. A: for your rocking ass. B: for the best blowjob I’ve ever had in my life.”

  “Stop. That’s not what I mean. But, really? It was the best?”

  “Baby, everything with you is the best.”

  “I’m not even in your wheelhouse,” she tells me.

  I don’t like the direction this conversation is taking.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Ash, Tiffany, Emma,” she spits each name. “Shall I go on?”

  “No, please don’t, and what we’re doing isn’t the same. I mean, yes, I’ve been with them, but this—what we have—is different. It wasn’t serious with those girls.”

  “I really don’t care if it was or not. I just want to know why me after all this time? I’m a little different from your usual menu item.”

  Now she’s starting to piss me off.

  �
�Jules.” I wrap my hand around her shoulder. “Those girls are not in my wheelhouse. I don’t have a wheelhouse. If I did, you’d be in it. You’d be it for fuck’s sake. They are, were, my distraction, medicine, therapy, stress reliever. I know it. They know it. We helped each other. With you, things get too real, too fast. I can’t control my feelings around you. Half the time, I can’t trust myself to be around you, so I act like an ass and do things like call you by someone else’s name. That way you are forced to make the decision, because I never could.”

  Time to lay all the cards on the table…and I’m playing to win.

  Her eyes fill and the guilt is enough to make me crumble.

  “You remember that?” she asks. “Calling me Ash?”

  “Of course I do. Baby, if I didn’t do something I would’ve taken you and not looked back. I’m that much of a selfish dick. I wasn’t ready for that and neither were you.”

  “Foster, that was only a week ago,” she says, shrugging off my touch.

  “Yeah, and a lot has happened since then.”

  “Do you know how that made me feel?” She closes her eyes. “What that did to me?”

  “Don’t say it, Jules.” My temples throb and I feel the rage boiling my blood. “Don’t fucking say it. If you hurt yourself because of me.” I pull up her sleeve to expose her scars, looking for any new damage. That hurts almost more than anything else. “If you used your damn arm as a fucking astray again, Jules.”

  “I didn’t hurt myself, you moron.” She sits up now and I follow. “I felt bad, I was sad. I wanted you, and you thought I was somebody else, or pretended to. Do you know how much you’ve screwed me up with other men? I wouldn’t hurt myself over it. I wouldn’t do that for anyone anymore. That was one time, after Ben died. I couldn’t handle it because I thought we were responsible. ”

  “I was responsible, Jules. Nobody else.”

  “Bullshit! I had a role in it too. I could’ve stopped them. I should’ve been there. But I know we all had a part in it. Yes, we should’ve handled things differently but we didn’t. We were young and we’re human. In the end, it was Ben who made the decision. It was Jenna who agreed to let him drive.”