by Jana Janeway
“Then, what are you talking about?” she asked breathlessly. His simple touch affected her in such a way, it made her want to forget all about the impending problems being intimate with him right then and there would cause.
Answering with actions instead of words, he leaned in and touched his lips to hers, whispering against them, “Please, Jess, put your hands on me.”
“I’m afraid of what might happen if I did,” she whispered back, asking, “Where did Bibi and Josiah go?”
“To get that phone charger.” And then he kissed her fully. One hand moved to her back to steady her as the other brushed through her hair. And when she responded favorably, he moaned.
“This is so unfair,” Jessica gasped, breaking away. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her.
“What is?” His fingertips grazing the bare skin above the towel she wore caused her to shiver.
“My head is telling me one thing,” her words were breathless and strained, “but my heart’s telling me another.”
“What’s your head telling you?” he asked, though he was fairly certain he already knew what the answer was.
“That this is all. . . happening too fast.” The battle for willpower raged inside her, making the ability to speak coherently difficult at best. “We barely know each other, Craddock. Our lives are literally in danger.”
“I know,” he agreed, but in words only. His tone and actions told of how he was willing to ignore all of the reasons why they shouldn’t advance their relationship just yet. The timbre of his voice low and deep, he pressed his body against hers, to let her know exactly how much he wanted her. “And your heart?” He brushed his lips across her shoulder and up to her neck. “What is that telling you?”
“That none of those things matter.” She whimpered when the gentle affection he had been inflicting upon her kicked into a higher, more demanding gear, as he abandoned the soft kisses to suck firmly on the taut skin where neck and shoulder met.
“Craddock, please,” she complained weakly, “we can’t do this. Not right now.”
He nodded in acceptance, just barely. “Just a few more minutes.”
“Yeah, right.” A hint of sarcasm slipped into her tone as a smidgeon of sanity surfaced through the haze. “You’re at the edge of intelligent reasoning as it is. A few more minutes, and we’ll both be lost.”
Knowing she was right, he eased up, his lips breaking contact with heaven, begrudgingly. “I’m sorry.” Ashamed, he pushed away from her just enough to put an inch of space between them. His eyes expressed his remorse as they locked with hers.
“Don’t be.” Smiling to reassure him, she gently touched his cheek. “Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t have asked you to stop.”
He smiled, in return and over her optimistic words. “Something to look forward to.”
Her smirk grew before it dropped completely. “There’s just too much chaos right now, ya’know? We don’t even know where we’re going anymore! And. . .” she hesitated, “I really think you should talk to Bibi.”
He nodded, as if in agreement, but then countered the action by saying, “I don’t care if she ever approves, or gives her blessing.”
“She probably never will.” The likelihood of that caused her to sigh. “But I still think you should talk to her.”
He eyed her warily for a moment, determining. “Do you know something? About why she’s acting like this?”
“Nothing concrete,” she said uneasily. “Just call it women’s intuition.”
“Care to share?” he asked of her, scowling when she shook her head. “Why not?”
“‘Cause what if I’m wrong? And if I’m right, it should really come from her.”
“Oh God.” His brain finally clicked on the hidden meaning within her words. “How—?” He choked on the question, at a loss for what to say, his eyes wide as he stared back at her. “How?” he repeated, the emphasis used showing him to be completely blindsided and confused.
She shrugged, dropping her gaze to the floor. “You’ll have to talk to her about that. Just let me know where we stand, once you do.”
Realizing what she meant, he gathered her back into his arms. “I’m not in love with Bibi, Jessica. I’m in love with you.”
“You’ve known her a lot longer. You have a history together. . .” When she trailed off, he pulled back to reinitiate eye contact, expressing the importance of what he was about to say with his intense gaze.
“We do have a history together, sure, and I do love her, but as a friend! Almost like a sister! I’m not in love with her, okay?” When she looked away, he touched his finger to her chin to regain her attention. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes.” She took in a deep breath, trying to settle her tangled emotions. “You do realize, don’t you, that this is going to devastate her?”
His eyes flashed with the sadness he was feeling before he nodded and turned, retaking his seat on the edge at the foot of the bed. “I realize.” He dropped his face in his hands. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
He wasn’t looking for her to answer, but she did anyway. Sitting beside him, she wrapped an arm around him, offering him sympathy. “Taking a risk, when it’s your own heart on the line, is hard to do sometimes.”
“I don’t want to hurt her,” he lamented, asking as his hands fell into his lap, “How do I turn her down without hurting her?”
Leaning her head against his shoulder, she rubbed his back supportively. “Just. . . be gentle, and one hundred percent honest with her.”
He sighed heavily, nodding in acceptance of her advice. “Thank you.” Shifting positions, he extended his arms in such a way as to request a hug from her.
Immediately, she smiled and nodded, allowing him to seek comfort in her embrace, hoping the gesture would ease his worries at least a little. She set her own anxieties aside for the time being.
Craddock and Bibi would be fine in the end. At least, Jessica hoped they would be. What concerned her more was not the fate of the two friends, but how she would fit into the dynamic after everything was said and done. They already hated her, Bibi and Josiah both, because she ruined their lives, almost got them killed, and took their friend’s attention away from them. With Craddock about to break Bibi’s heart, it would certainly cement that hatred, and destroy any possible chance of friendship.
But that wasn’t the only fear Jessica had.
If, on the off chance, there was a rift between him and his friends, would Craddock be forced to choose between them and her? Would he choose her if he was? And if he did choose her, would he, in time, come to resent her, for causing him to lose two people from his life he obviously cared so very much for?
She voiced none of those concerns as she continued to hold him, not wanting to add to his already racing thoughts and emotions. The task ahead of him, she did not envy, and she silently wished she could do something to relax him, even if only as a brief distraction from the difficult situation he would soon be facing.
“You’re so tense,” she finally whispered. “I wish there was a way to help you not to be.”
Smirking, he said, “Well, there is, but I doubt you’d agree to it.”
“I’m not gonna have sex with you, just to relax you,” she retorted, half joking, half serious, smirking as well.
“I wasn’t referring to that.” He shrugged, nervous to suggest what he wanted to. “But maybe you could give me a massage?”
“I could. . .” She shook her head, not in answer but in self-belittlement. “I pretty much suck at it, though.”
He pulled back, laughing a little. “Says who?”
“Shea and Stacy.” She blushed as she added, “And a former boyfriend.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t think so?” he more asked than stated, watching her eyes closely to see if he could determine what she would say next, hoping she would agree to at least try. It was hard to imagine how horrible it could possibly be. As long as her hands were on him, in his way of thi
nking, there was no way it could suck that bad.
“If you’re willing to take the risk,” she said, relenting with a tone that closely resembled indifference. She pushed off the bed to stand. “I just need to get dressed first.”
“I like you in the towel.” The sly grin he wore broke into laughter when she jokingly glared back at him. “Sorry.” His tone was light, showing little to no sign of actual remorse. “Just being honest.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed with a sarcastic lilt, as she spun around and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, she shut the door firmly, establishing an uncrossable boundary.
There were unique qualities about her, including, but not limited to, her fiery spirit, timidity, and intelligent, sarcastic wit that would have made him fall in love with her regardless of whether Chimie was involved or not, and he knew that without question. The only question he did have was, would she ever feel that their lives were peaceful enough, or, for that matter, would their lives ever actually be peaceful enough, to further and advance their relationship?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Her abilities as a masseuse definitely weren’t great, but they weren’t horrible, either. After a few casual instructions, she was already improving. Soon, he was relaxing into the mattress as she kneaded his tense muscles, which helped him to forget his worries about the impending conversation he needed to have with Bibi.
Of course, her straddling him, essentially sitting on his ass, brought with it a different kind of tightness. The kind that made him grateful for the fact that he was face down on the bed, and that that part of him was obscured from her line of vision.
“That feels amazing,” he moaned, smiling when she laughed in response, even though he didn’t understand why she had.
“You must be a masochist at heart,” she quipped, climbing off and laying beside him. “Either that, or those I’ve given massages to in the past are wimps.”
“Well,” he turned his head, facing her, “you already said Shea is one, and since Stacy is a girl, she’s probably one, too. Not that all girls are,” he was quick to correct himself, pushing up onto his elbows, “but presumably, a lot are more. . . delicate.”
“Nice save.”
Her sarcasm, suggesting that she wasn’t insulted, put him at ease.
“Thanks.” He smiled, relieved, his attempt at keeping things casual returning. “So, what about the former boyfriend? Was he a wimp?”
He wanted to know about her previous relationships, but there was a line between interest and prying that he didn’t feel right crossing.
“I don’t know that I’d categorize him as wimpy. He was a bit sensitive, though.”
Nodding, he pressed further, cautiously. “Why did you guys break up, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It just didn’t work out,” she answered easily, unperturbed by the question. “Even though Humans don’t get this Chimie thing, we—they—still want to feel something towards the other person, ya’know?”
“Sure,” he agreed. “And you didn’t?”
“No.” Leaving it at that, she changed the subject. “What about you? Any former girlfriends worth mentioning?”
“Well. . .” He shifted onto his side, now that his aroused body was finally relaxed enough to do so. “There was Denise. She was nice, I guess, though Josiah pretty much hated her.”
“Is that why you broke up with her?” she asked, feigning nonchalance.
“No, I broke up with her because, at that time, I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, and she got real possessive and clingy. Then, there was Katie,” he continued with nary a pause. “I was pretty sure I was in love with her, but she ended up cheating on me, so that was obviously the end of that.”
“Pretty sure?” The question did not sound as breezy as she’d wanted it to. By the way Craddock smirked back at her, she guessed that he’d caught the underlying tone as well.
His hand moving slowly to rest on her abdomen, he whispered, “I didn’t know what being in love truly felt like, until I met you.”
When she turned onto her side, as he had a minute before, he slid his hand up to her hip, his thumb lightly caressing the material of her jeans as he stared into her sparkling green eyes. He wanted to get lost in them. Live forever in their depths. If she consented, and there was a God, he would.
“Do you mind me touching you?” he asked, somewhat fearful of her answer. He didn’t want to remove his hand from her body, even though the contact was slight and almost innocent, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, either.
She shook her head, clumsily, due to his effect on her. “I like when you touch me. Probably more than I should, seeing as how we can’t do anything. Right now,” she added with a barely noticeable smirk.
“It’s a self imposed can’t, though,” he reminded her. “We could, if you want to, mutually decide what is and is not allowable.”
“With the way we’re both feeling, I think the line would get moved further and further, till it was no longer in existence.”
“You’re probably right, but, God, I want you so badly, it hurts. I want you so badly, that I’m willing to take whatever you’re willing to give me, just to have any contact with you at all.”
Her heart lurched in response to his honest, passion filled words. “Over clothes and above the waist.” Amused by the hopeful yet shocked expression he threw back at her, she smirked as she leaned in to gently kiss his lips. A moment later, she asked against them, “If it starts to get out of hand, and I ask you to stop, can you?”
“Yes,” he hissed, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through him, and the anticipation of what was to come. Pressing his lips to hers, he hovered over her, tucking one arm under her and gathering her to him as his free hand inched up her body.
It was the most fantastically erotic moment either of them had ever experienced, even with her shirt separating his skin from hers. As his fingers brushed taut flesh, he nuzzled against the matching peak across from it, eliciting a soft moan from her. A sound he mimicked a second later.
“Oh God,” she whimpered, “this was a mistake. How are we supposed to stop?”
“I won’t cross any predetermined line,” he promised her. “I respect you too much to do that to you.”
Nodding gratefully, she asked, “Is this the Chimie?”
“In part.” He grazed his lips over one of the prominent nubs poking through her top as his fingers continued to pinch and play with the other. “Part of it is simply due to being Mengliad.”
“Lift my shirt,” she asked of him abruptly, opening her eyes to meet his when he pulled back and stared down at her.
“You’re moving the line.” It was a statement of fact, as if she was uncertain of what she was requesting.
“I know.” She was breathless, almost panting. “Just don’t let me move it again.”
“You’re sure?” he asked, reluctant to comply. “I don’t want you to have regrets.”
“I am and I won’t. Please,” she begged, prepared to do it herself he didn’t.
“The further we take this,” he warned her, “the harder it will be to stop.”
“Okay.” Accepting his words of caution, she then asked, “How is your willpower holding up?”
“At the moment, just barely.”
“Enough to stop us from going too far?”
He nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure if he could. He was already so very close to the point of no return.
Slowly, he inched the material of her shirt up to expose her, kissing her viewable skin as it became so, relishing her response when she started squirming impatiently. The moment all of her was visible to him, his lips sought her breasts, tasting each in turn, his tongue dancing across and swirling around pert flesh.
“God, Jessica,” he whispered, “you are so beautiful.”
Shuddering, she raked one hand into his hair, encouraging him, while the other fisted the sheets. “I want to move the line again.”
“To
where?” Continuing the pleasant task of fondling her, he nuzzled into her shower-dampened hair.
“I want you,” she answered indirectly, scowling when he shook his head.
“That’s just the moment talking.” He was surprised by the level of clarity he still possessed. “Besides, Bibi and Josiah will be back soon.”
“Please, Craddock,” she whimpered. The intensity of her emotions was so extreme, she started to cry. “I’m going insane.”
Sympathetic, he kissed away her tears, whispering against her temple, “You’re not. You’re just not used to how this level of intimacy feels for a Mengliad. I can help, but it means pushing the previously determined line a little further south.”
“Yes.” She opened her legs for him, her breath harsh in her throat as she felt his hand slide down to in between them.
Pressing his palm firmly against her, he worked opposite her movements, allowing her the friction she needed to gain relief, once again descending to lick and nibble and titillate, helping her to reach her goal faster.
But then the sound of the key in the lock startled them both.
Whispering a faint, “I’m so sorry,” he pulled her shirt back down to cover her before leaping from the bed and rushing into the bathroom.
She heard the shower turn on just as the front door swung open, but she only stared up at the ceiling in response, almost as if in a daze. From being on the brink of release to abandoned and unfulfilled, all within seconds, caused her body and mind to reel, and the expression she wore because of it didn’t go unnoticed.
“Sorry,” Josiah scowled at her, “did we wake you up or something?”
Forcing her head to clear enough to answer him, she mumbled, “I wasn’t asleep yet.”
“Craddock’s still in the shower?” Bibi asked, pulling the boxed phone charger out of the bag she carried, immediately ripping into it.
“Not still.” Jessica pushed into an upright position, shifting to dangle her feet off the edge of the bed. “He’s only been in there a few minutes.”
“How long were you in there for?”
Feeling that she was being accused of some kind of wrongdoing, Jessica became defensive. “Not long. He just waited to take his, to see if the hot water would come back if he did.”
