She seemed intrigued. “How so?” She tilted her head, considering his words. “And are you going to be the one to teach me?”
“I can show you a thing or two, if you want?”
She turned around and leaned against the table. “Oh, you’ve got my interest now. What’s something I can improve upon?”
He wondered how much he should say. A lot of people didn’t take correction well, but as he studied Violet, he could see she genuinely wanted to know. “You have good instincts. You’ve obviously played enough to know that if you hit the ball and connect it with another ball a certain way, you’ll get the desired result. But it isn’t foolproof. There’s much more room for error.”
“What do you recommend?”
“Line up your angles.” He leaned forward, partially laying on the table, and lined up a shot, demonstrating exactly what he meant. He showed her where to hit balls, how to calculate their trajectory.
“Huh.” She studied the table, her jaw slightly askew. She used her cue stick and leaned forward, checking angles, doing exactly as he’d told her. When she was ready, she sunk a ball in the pocket. “Well that makes things a lot easier.” She puffed out a breath. “What else can you teach me?”
“You have good aim, but your grip on the stick makes pushing it through difficult.”
“What do you mean?”
He leaned forward on the table, hooking his index finger over the end of the cue, and let the stick rest comfortably in his hand. “See this? This is the best way to hold it. It allows the stick to glide through your fingers and connect firmly to the ball. If you hold it other ways,” he demonstrated several different holds, “it's likely to go off track when you push it forward. Try it.”
Violet leaned next to him, copying his hands. She pushed the stick forward several times, but it didn't quite work.
“You almost have it.” Without thinking, he stepped behind her and leaned over her body, pressing his chest to her back. He placed his hands on top of hers, positioning her fingers around the cue stick, before thrusting it forward, demonstrating the correct way. “Just like that. Nice and easy. Feel the difference?”
It was then he realized Violet had gone still beneath them, and she was very much beneath him. The feel of her body under his, pressed against him, scorched him. He'd been so focused on teaching her how to play, he hadn't realized the position he’d put them in.
And what a delicious position it was.
Unable to stop himself, he tilted his head down between her neck and shoulder and inhaled softly. His eyes rolled back in his head. She smelled of lavender soap, honey, and excitement.
She shivered at his attention, and he ached to do so much more. He wanted to run his hands over her body, down her back to her waist, feel every peak and valley—
This is dangerous.
The more time he spent with her, the more he fell under her spell, until desire ate at him. Not that he thought she was doing it on purpose. Her behavior toward him hadn’t changed much since he’d pulled her out of the river, but as she’d opened up about her past, she’d wedged herself firmly in his heart.
She remained still beneath him, and he took a chance, nuzzling her neck, relishing her short gasp as he scraped his teeth gently along the sensitive skin.
Her breathing increased, coming out in gasps. She still didn't pull away, and instead, tilted her head even more to the side, giving him greater access to explore.
His blood heated, but he didn't go any faster. Instead, he placed a soft kiss against the skin, flicking her with his tongue before he released her. “You taste so good.”
She moaned, and arched against him, innocently offering him more.
He gritted his teeth as she pressed up against his body. He kept his hands on top of hers over the table, his body refusing to release her as he pressed her into the table. He placed soft, wet kisses from her ear down her neck, to her shoulder, again gently biting down. This time she thrashed against him, and he let go of her hands.
Violet turned in his arms to face him, forcing him to stand, then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tight against her. Her hands dove into his hair, gripping, kneading, as if she couldn't control yourself.
Her eyes flashed, echoing the feelings surging through him. Something was happening here, something which burned between them. It would be wise to stop, to put distance between them. But he wasn't wise.
Instead, Jimmy let need take over. He crushed his lips to hers and groaned as she opened for him. Whatever he gave, she took, giving him just as much in return.
He pressed her into the table, wanting to feel her body against his. When there wasn’t enough contact, he released her to trail his hands down to her hamstrings, lifting her up and onto the table’s edge in seconds.
She wiggled to get comfortable, but never released him. Her mouth stayed fused to his; tasting, yearning, wanting even more.
He wanted to give her everything.
It was madness, and reality faded. He didn't know where he was, the day, or what they'd done before this moment, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was her.
She pressed against him, and he groaned. “Why can't I get enough of you? Why isn’t one kiss enough?”
She kissed him again quickly. “I don't know.” Her voice was breathy. “I don't know what's happening.”
The sparks between them, this intensity of feeling, was beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. This was rare, this type of connection didn't happen often, he was sure of it. “There's something here.”
She leaned back in his arms but didn't release her hold on him. “I don't know. I don't know what this is. I don't know what to do about it.”
He closed the space between them and placed a soft kiss on her lips, loving the way her eyelashes fluttered, as if she couldn't help herself. “What do you want to do about it?” he asked softly.
“I don't know.”
He lowered his head and kissed the side of her neck. “Do you want me to stop?”
Her head fell back in surrender, and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. He wanted to ravish her right then, to kiss her from head to toe, discover all the places that caused her to go limp. He couldn't take it that far, but the desire was there, burning close to the surface.
When she still didn't answer, he asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
She tilted her head up so her eyes met his. “No.”
He closed his eyes tight and reached a hand to steady himself on the table. He'd expected her to say yes, to ask him not to go any further.
That's what I should do. I should stop. He should find the self-control to pull away from her—
She wiggled against him, and something snapped inside. She gasped as he yanked her up against him a second before crushing his mouth to hers. It was wild, aggressive, consuming, and she was there with him every step of the way. She didn't pull back, didn't resist. She plundered him as if it were her right, as if she owned him.
And right now, she did.
When he was about to cross the line, he yanked away from her, steadying her with one hand. He gulped in air much like a man who’d been held too long under water.
Violet's eyes widened as reality intruded. They were playing a dangerous game, but as he took in her swollen cherry red lips, the way her chest heaved, sucking in air, all he wanted to do was take more.
He needed to get a hold of himself. If they were going to continue to see each other, especially in private, he needed to have control. He refused to do anything Violet would regret later.
After a moment, Violet’s breathing slowed, and he helped her step down from the table. She brushed her skirts, trying to get the fabric to lay how it was meant to. “I appreciate the tips on how to play better. If my father ever sees me play again, he'll be shocked.” She offered him a small smile.
Jimmy emotions were so churned up, he had no idea what she was talking about at first, but seeing the smile on her face, eased him. Their c
hemistry wasn't something to worry over. It just was. It existed, and he didn't see it going away anytime soon. So why shouldn’t they enjoy it? They just needed to be careful.
He returned her smile. “From what I've seen, he'll be afraid.”
“Why?”
He smirked. “Because he'll know that if he plays against you, you’ll win.”
Jimmy had a feeling Violet would always win against him as well. He didn't think he’d ever look at a billiards table without thinking of today. It might be a distraction, but he welcomed it, because today had given him the sweetest memory.
Chapter 7
Two weeks of lessons had passed, and while it would take more practice for Violet to completely master swimming, she was more than proficient enough she wouldn't drown.
And as for helping Jimmy with etiquette, it was apparent he didn't need much help after all. Once he’d learned a few social rules, he was surprisingly eloquent. Every time she was with him, teaching him, he impressed her.
She enjoyed his company. He was easy to talk to in a way she’d never been able to with others. She was grateful for Ivan’s brides, but she'd never been the kind of person to get along with people in large groups. She was beginning to believe she did better one-on-one and would possibly thrived in an intimate relationship.
Not that she was that experienced. Her one serious relationship with her ex-fiancé hadn’t been anywhere near this level. Sure, she’d kissed Richard, but it hadn’t moved her. In fact, his lips had been cold, and in a way, soggy. No man would want to be described as such, she imagined, but there it was.
She’d assumed all kisses were the same. How wrong she’d been. Since her first kiss with Jimmy by the river, she’d become addicted to him, addicted to kissing. She never thought she'd see the day.
Although they were careful not to do anything which would require marriage, they took it right up to the line.
Heavens! She couldn't get enough.
Violet forced her thoughts of Jimmy aside and looked both ways before stepping into the street from the boardwalk in Promise Creek. Willow and Juliette had come with her into town to purchase supplies, and before they’d all separated to go their own ways, they’d agreed to meet two hours later in front of the mercantile.
Violet had gathered together everything she’d needed, but there was still time before she needed to meet her friends, so instead of grabbing something to eat, she headed toward Tom’s forge. She didn’t need any more jewelry, but the lure of such beautiful craftsmanship was hard to ignore.
Besides, she missed Rosalie now that she'd married Tom and moved into town a few months ago.
That should've been surprising in and of itself. Her missing someone. All her friends in New York were nothing but people in her past. She didn't care about them, wasn't worried for them, and she was sure they felt the same about her.
Thinking of all the times she’d written her parents, asking for funds to return, she was surprised a part of her had wanted to go back and was glad she’d never followed through and sent the letters. There was nothing for her there. She knew that now. Her time with Jimmy had shown her that. She’d been so lonely, even with the other women, and had thought returning was the answer. But it wasn’t.
Those women had become sisters to her. They were her family now. She’d only been lonely because she hadn’t let them get close to her. But she was going to change all that. She was going to open up, even if it made her vulnerable.
She’d worried that by staying, she’d never have a family of her own, but Jimmy had shown her that wouldn’t happen. She knew what kind of man she wanted, and that man didn’t exist in New York.
That man was Jimmy. She wanted Jimmy. Everything she’d hoped for, everything she’d dreamed of, was suddenly possible. And it was all right here.
She sucked in a deep breath, feeling stupid that the revelation surprised her, but it did. She didn't know when it had happened, or more importantly how, but she knew it in her heart. They’d had such a strong physical connection, but it was so much more than just that. She liked the man he was, and she wanted to spend the rest of her life learning every little thing about him.
But did he feel the same way? She chewed her lip, contemplating the issue. They’d had plenty of fun together, and even if their attraction was incredible, none of that meant he wanted a life with her.
The thought dropped a boulder into her stomach. What if all of this meant nothing to him? What if he was just having a good time with her? She’d been the one to say she didn't want anyone to know about their relationship, that she wanted to hide it. Had she made a mistake?
Maybe this was something Jimmy did with a variety of women. Had he kissed Aria? She moved to one of the overhang supports and sagged against it.
Do I really want to know?
Heaven help her. She’d made a mess of this.
Almost as if she’d conjured him, Jimmy stepped out of the hotel on the other side of the street. His eyes quickly found hers, and his slow smile turned into a wide grin. Her heart beat faster, and she accepted she had no control over her own body anymore. Her lips tingled, and her body ached as if she were already pressed up against him.
They’d made an agreement—her idea—they wouldn't talk to each other while in town, but when he took two steps into the street toward her, she simply didn't care. She just wanted to talk to him, and it no longer mattered who saw or heard them.
But before she could reach him, Lizzie McGill, one of the town’s young widows, called out to him, holding a basket in her arms. He turned toward the woman and stepped back on the boardwalk.
Still on the opposite side of the street, Violet couldn’t discern a word of their conversation, but she saw the way Lizzie touched his arm, the way she laughed as if he’d said something funny. More importantly, she saw the smile he gave her.
Jealousy coursed through Violet. As irrational as it was, she didn't want Jimmy to smile at anyone else.
The other woman spoke animatedly, and her body language clearly revealed she was interested in Jimmy as a man.
As if feeling Violet’s stare, Jimmy glanced at her but turned back and continued speaking with Lizzie. Finally, she passed the basket to Jimmy, then locked her hands in front of her, as if she were shy.
Jimmy nodded his thanks and gave her another smile. Before he left, Lizzie patted his arm, as if she couldn’t stop herself from touching him.
Violet fumed. No one had any right to touch him. She wanted to march over and set the other woman straight, but the conversation was finished, and Jimmy was crossing the street toward her, still holding the basket.
Jealousy wasn't a new emotion for Violet. She’d felt it many times in her life. Jealous the other children had parents who loved them and spent time with them. Jealous when one of the other debutantes gained more popularity. Jealous of the woman her ex-fiancé had left her for.
But none of those feelings compared to how she felt now. Because mixed with the jealousy, was panic, and panicked-jealousy was a new emotion for her.
She needed some time alone to figure this all out.
Jimmy crossed over to her, a smile in his eyes, but her fears didn’t subside. If anything, they just got a whole lot more confusing.
“I wasn't expecting to see you in town. How are you?” He looked her over and grinned, as if he liked what he saw.
Such a look would've normally heated her blood, but instead, she remained chilled. “Juliette, Willow, and I needed a few things, so we came into town.”
“It's a good day for it.” He tilted his face up to the sky and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “Whenever I think about leaving during the winter, I try to remember days like this.”
She had to agree with him. The air was clear and fresh, and the temperature was in the sweet spot, neither too cold or hot. She should have been enjoying it, but all she could keep thinking about was the basket, hanging like a thorn at his side.
She should ignore it, wait for him to mention
it, but she simply didn't have enough patience. Or self-control. “Why did Lizzie McGill give you that basket?”
His brows wrinkled as if the changing of topics had jarred him. “Oh.” He looked down at the basket as if he'd forgotten it was there. “She gave it to me as a thank you for helping her the other day.”
Violet arched an eyebrow but remained silent. What had Jimmy helped her with? All sorts of horrible ideas filled her mind, and she hated herself for it.
Seeing her look, Jimmy closed his mouth abruptly. “It’s not like that.”
“Not like what?” she asked, a little too sweetly.
“It’s not whatever you’re thinking to give you that look,” he said seriously.
She didn’t want to think about how he knew her looks. It brought her feelings of love to the surface and made her even more upset. “Then why is she bringing you a basket?” It took all of her willpower to ask him in such a moderate tone. Her instincts were screaming for her to yell at him, berate him for courting another woman. It wasn’t rational at all, but she didn’t care.
“A tree near her cabin blew over in the last storm, and she needed help removing it. I happened to hear about her dilemma and went to help.”
Violet’s shoulder’s relaxed, but she still wasn’t completely convinced. “That’s all? You helped her clear a tree and nothing else?” She glanced down at the basket, remembering how Lizzie had put her hands on him, how she’d gushed just talking to him. “She seems interested in you.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it closed and seemed to think better of it. He looked up and down the boardwalk to see, she assumed, if anyone was watching them. Apparently satisfied, he took her arm and whisked her down the small space between the buildings until they reached the back where no one lingered.
“What are you do—”
He dropped the basket, the contents spilling over the ground, and spun her until she was pinned between the building and his body. His mouth hotly claimed hers, nudging her lips open, shocking her with his aggression. Before she could recover, he pulled away, but kept their heads close together.
A Mail-Order Illusion Page 7
