“I know exactly what I’m looking for. Look, I was engaged to someone I thought I loved. He did the whole hearts and flowers thing. I’ve had enough of them. I’ve had enough of thinking about the future, the long term, the happily-ever-after. I want something different. You said when we were in quarantine that you don’t believe in love. Well, neither do I. Love’s not what I’m looking for right now. If I were, I’d be looking somewhere else.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he said.
Despite the dim light in the supply closet he thought he could see a wicked gleam in Kat’s eye.
“You were the one who said I needed a thrill,” she said. “I’m trying to learn to live in the moment. And you did say you would help...”
“As long as we’re clear about our expectations from the beginning.”
“Crystal-clear,” she said.
Kat pressed close against him. Any fleeting resistance, any reasons not to get involved that he might have briefly entertained were fading away.
And then his lips were brushing hers before he even knew what had happened. She was kissing him back, more deeply, and his tongue explored her mouth, desiring every inch of her that she could give. Her lips crushed against his, and he felt himself become swept away with the taste of her.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed before she broke their kiss, pulling her head away from his. She still leaned against him, and his arms remained around her waist. As she looked up into his eyes he thought he saw flecks of gold within the green.
“So,” she said, “I take it that we’re in agreement? A purely physical relationship, to address an attraction that’s on a purely physical level?”
“If you’re in, I’m in,” he said. “Purely physical. No emotions, no strings attached.”
She let out a breath, as though she’d been holding it. “We should probably set up some ground rules,” she said, suddenly seeming nervous. “Maybe we should make a list of what we expect from one another, to make sure things don’t get too emotional...”
He pulled her closer to him again. “Here’s the only ground rule I want to work out right now,” he said, his voice husky. “My place or yours?”
* * *
The next night found Kat laying out three different outfits on her bed, repeatedly accepting and rejecting each one.
It didn’t matter what she wore, she tried to tell herself. She and Jack weren’t supposed to be trying to impress each other. She didn’t need to care if he liked what she wore. And yet somehow tonight it was unusually difficult to make an outfit choice.
The more she thought about her arrangement with Jack, the more confident she became that it was a brilliant idea. She’d only had a few boyfriends in her life, and all the way up until Christopher she’d been a serial monogamist, going through one long-term relationship at a time. Part of her was still a bit shocked at her proposal to Jack—but mostly she was excited about her first foray into spontaneous thrill-seeking. She was nervous, but excited, and she intended to enjoy every minute of it.
Even though it would be her first time having sex since before the breakup...
It’s just a meaningless fling, she reminded herself. Don’t put too much pressure on it.
Over the two years she’d dated Christopher she’d tried to meet his expectations in every way possible. He was a career-driven perfectionist, and she’d thought she’d admired those qualities in him. She’d even thought that she and Christopher were a little bit similar in that way.
But Christopher’s perfectionism had always seemed to involve making her feel less, somehow. Every time he’d told her that she’d look great if she worked out a little more, or that her hair would look nice if she’d only wear it in a certain way, she’d believed him, and tried to do what would make him happy. But it had never seemed to be enough. And in the end it hadn’t been.
Her arrangement with Jack meant that neither of them had to worry about expectations. The thought of that was wonderfully freeing. Tonight would be her first serious attempt to let loose and let go.
Kat’s heart pounded in her chest as she pulled into the driveway of Jack’s house on the beach. She wrapped her black leather trench coat more tightly around herself as she stepped out of the car. Her outfit was a risk; she was wearing the trench coat, heels, and not much else. She’d been a little worried about what might happen if she got pulled over, but she’d been very careful to drive at exactly the speed limit for the entire drive to Jack’s house.
The nice thing about keeping their relationship on a physical level, she thought, was that now she could freely admit her attraction to Jack without worrying about where it might lead. It would lead to sex with Jack and no further. Nice and simple. No other complications to worry about. No reason to be nervous.
Two hours is an awfully long time to spend deciding what to wear when you’re supposedly just interested in a purely physical relationship, a small, disloyal corner of her mind piped up as she stepped out of the car.
She considered leaving her purse inside the car, underneath the passenger seat, but then she remembered the pack of condoms she’d brought with her, color-coded by type. Would Jack have thought about protection? Probably, but you never knew... Better to be on the safe side.
She grabbed her bag and walked up the sand-covered sidewalk.
He opened the door and stood in front of her, in dark jeans and a very tight white T-shirt. The T-shirt left very little to the imagination. Even in the dim porchlight she could see the firmness of his torso underneath the shirt.
And as she looked at the well-defined muscles all traces of the worry she’d had about the wisdom of her decision melted away. Whatever happened after tonight, it was going to be worth it if it gave her a chance to feel those arms pressing her against that chest one more time. This was going to be good.
He stood in the doorway, leaning on one arm, and she could see him taking her in. He was looking at how tightly she had her black trench coat wrapped around herself. He raised an eyebrow rakishly, taking in her bare legs, and she had a feeling that he was drawing the obvious conclusion about what else she might be wearing under the coat.
She saw him swallow, and suddenly she felt much more confident. Whatever false bravado he might display, she could tell that Jack wanted this every bit as much as she did.
She might have thrown herself at him at the hospital, but that had been then. Right now he was looking at her as though she were a package he couldn’t wait to unwrap. Or a meal he’d like to devour.
She gave a shiver that had nothing to do with the cool breeze coming from the beach.
He smiled and reached down to grab one end of the belt of her trench coat, using it to pull her forward until she was pressed against him. He slipped an arm around her and pressed her closer, nuzzling his nose into her hair.
“You really came dressed for the occasion,” he said, reaching down and putting his palm against her bare thigh. He murmured the words into her hair, his lips brushing against her neck as he spoke.
Her cheek was pressed against his chest, and her nose came just to the small hollow in his neck. Kat inhaled deeply. Ah, there it was... Eau de Jack Harper. She could finally allow herself to revel in it.
It was nice to be enveloped by Jack’s scent without having to try to force her mind off it. But they were still outside. There was only so much that could be accomplished.
Kat marshaled her thoughts enough to say, “You have no idea. But if you want to see the rest of this outfit you’re going to have to invite me in.”
As she lifted her face from his chest he bent to kiss her. He still held her in his arms, though, and as he turned back into the house, he took her with him, so that they were just inside the entrance when he shut the door. He continued to kiss her, pressing her against the wall. His kisses were soft at first, then deeper and more deliberate.
Kat was grateful for the support of the wall behind her—it kept her from melting into Jack’s arms right away. Her senses were full of nothing but him. But then she heard a faint ringing sound from further within the house.
Jack stopped kissing her and said, “Oh, right...the bouillabaisse. I set the timer.”
“Bouley-what?”
“Bouillabaisse. It’s French; it’s a kind of stew with seafood and herbs. It’s very good.”
He headed further back into the house, presumably toward the kitchen, and Kat followed. Her mind was swirling. Jack had cooked for her? Why? She’d thought they were just going to have sex. Having a meal together...a meal he’d cooked for her...didn’t quite fit with her idea of an emotionless night of physical passion. But then, maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Plenty of people liked to cook. It didn’t mean anything special.
Jack was shutting off the timer as she entered the kitchen and he grabbed a spoon. “Here, have a taste,” he said, turning the heat on the stove to a low simmer and holding the spoon to Kat’s lips.
Her eyes widened as she tasted the broth. “Wow, that’s really good!” she said. “I don’t know what I’m more excited about: eating that delicious stew, or...or...” She blushed. “Or some of our other plans for this evening.”
He set down the spoon and put his hands against her hips. “Speaking of which,” he said, “we were in the middle of something before that timer so rudely interrupted us...”
He leaned in and brushed her lips against his.
“Should we have dinner first?” she whispered. “I didn’t know you were going to go to all this trouble.”
“Actually, I’m more of a dessert-first kind of guy,” he said, flicking off the stove and giving her his full attention.
Kat felt her thoughts slowly melting away as his body pressed against hers and their lips came together. And as they kissed her need for him began to intensify. The pent-up frustration of their interrupted moments had been building for days, and finally—finally—there was nothing between the two of them.
Well, not much, anyway...
Jack’s hands moved to the belt of her trench coat. It was tied tight, but with a good wrench in the right direction the coat fell open, revealing her black lace underwear and nothing else.
“Wow,” Jack said. “That is not what I expected to see under there.”
“Hmm... Well, I have a few button-up blouses in my closet at home. Maybe I should wear one of those next time?” she said.
“Don’t you dare,” he replied, pulling her roughly to him.
He slipped the coat from her shoulders, then began kissing her neck and breasts. He lifted one breast from the cup of her bra and she gasped as his tongue circled her nipple. An arc of pleasure shot through her as he attended to one breast with his mouth while he teased and stroked the other. Then he slipped his hands under her buttocks, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her and took them both to his bed.
She could feel the tantalizing hardness forming under his jeans...could feel that her own body was eager for him.
He tossed her onto the bed and Kat sighed with pleasure as he slid her underwear from her. She waited for him to get onto the bed with her, but instead he simply looked at her, drinking her in with his eyes. Then he knelt down by the side of the bed and pulled her forward by her hips, dragging her to the edge. He kissed the inside of one thigh, and then the other, and suddenly she realized what he was about to do.
“You—you don’t have to do that,” she stammered. “I mean, I’ve never asked anyone to...and no one’s ever wanted to...”
“Then don’t you think it’s about time someone did?” he said.
And after that Kat couldn’t speak any more, because he was placing his mouth on the hot, warm space between her legs where she felt the most ready for him to be. His tongue attended to the small nub he found there until Kat thought she would burst with the heat and the wanting. She began to cry out, but he was relentless—he was going to make her explode. And explode she did, unable to control herself against the onslaught of his mouth against her.
Kat let herself sink into the mattress, shaking. She’d wanted him, and she’d known he was ready for her, but she hadn’t expected this welcome detour.
She worried that after the intensity of the pleasure she’d just felt she wouldn’t have the energy to move from where she lay, rendered immobile by the sensations that washed over her, lasting and lasting. But then she saw Jack taking off his shirt, and the sight of his washboard torso gave her renewed energy.
The faint line of hair that trailed from his chest to his stomach and disappeared into his navel suggested tantalizing possibilities. She reached out for his waistband and pulled herself to a sitting position. Fumbling with the button at his waist, she pulled his jeans and boxers off in one smooth motion, revealing his firm, erect manhood.
Something clamored for attention in a small, forgotten corner of her mind. Oh, right—protection. But her purse was all the way out in the living room. For the briefest of seconds she despaired at the thought of having to interrupt this moment by running out to rummage through her purse. But before she could mention it Jack reached down for his jeans, where they lay on the floor, and took a condom from one of the pockets.
Kat felt gratified that she hadn’t been the only one planning for their safety—and she was especially glad that having a condom close at hand meant they wouldn’t have to leave the bed right now.
He eased onto the bed with her, his body firm and warm between her legs. The length of him was hard, but velvety to her touch. He locked his gaze with hers and she nodded to let him know that she was ready. He entered her in one long thrust. She lifted her hips, pressing them against his so she could let him into her as completely as possible. Their bodies joined in a timeless dance, responding to the heat and desire each felt in the other.
It felt as if it had been ages since she had made love. And lovemaking had never felt like this. His rhythm matched hers perfectly, his long, slow strokes mirroring the rise and fall of her body as if they were meant to fit together.
She lost all awareness of herself as sensation overtook her. She was lost in the smell of him, in the feeling of his hands on her hips and the backs of her thighs as he pushed himself into her. She ran her hands through his dark hair, as she’d wanted to since the moment she’d first laid eyes on him, arching her back. His chest was hard and warm against her breasts.
There was no sound but that of their ragged breaths melding together. Nothing existed outside of the sublime feelings that promised bliss was only moments away. She rocked her hips against his more quickly, unable to withstand the craving any longer, and his strokes came faster, pushing her toward euphoria.
She cried out in ecstasy as she felt herself shatter. And as she did, she felt him tremble within her, heard him say her name. As she raised her lips to meet his once more, she felt a tightness somewhere deep within her loosen.
They lay entangled in one another’s arms, her head resting against his chest. She felt wonderfully free. There were no pressures, no tasks to accomplish. This moment was the moment she wanted to live in, and nothing could take her out of it.
CHAPTER SIX
JACK WOKE FIRST, to an unfamiliar whirring noise. Kat’s cell phone was buzzing on the nightstand next to her side of the bed.
He gazed at Kat, who still slept peacefully, her back curved against his chest. It had been a long time since any woman had spent the night with him, but she had dropped off soon after their second round of lovemaking and he soon after.
He caressed the soft red waves of her hair, which spilled over the white pillow. The early-morning sunlight dappled her face, filtered by the tall palm trees just outside the window. She looked so peaceful.
When Kat was awake he could always read the worry in her face. She was so preoccupied with caring. No one c
ould speak to Kat for five minutes without realizing that she was constantly thinking about everyone else: her patients, her co-workers, her friends...
Jack wondered if now he might have made it onto the list of people in Kat’s life that she worried about. Cared about. And he wondered how Kat felt about the night before.
She’d seemed satisfied, but they hadn’t really had the opportunity to discuss it. He was grateful that they’d put their arrangement to keep things purely physical in place. Kat might deserve more, but he knew he wasn’t the one who could offer it to her.
But, if nothing else, he could offer her a good breakfast.
He’d been thrilled to find that she liked his cooking. After they’d made love the first time they’d eaten the bouillabaisse with crusty French bread. He’d loved watching her eyes widen as she’d tasted her first sip of broth, and her exclamation later, when she’d tried his homemade rosemary and strawberry ice cream.
Then, after the ice cream, they’d gotten back to the reason they’d agreed to meet in the first place. He’d loved watching her other reactions as well: her eyes drinking in his body, resting on his manhood, her breath catching as he eased his length into her.
Yes, that had been nice. More than nice.
Now, he resisted the urge to kiss the nape of her neck. He leaned over to silence Kat’s cell phone and then slipped out of bed, pushing back the thick white down comforter. The heavy blanket was probably overkill in the Hawaiian heat, but he liked to be warm in bed—and it seemed she did, too.
He wondered if it was a Midwestern thing. Both he and Kat were originally from places with cold, severe winters. There’d been some winters in Nebraska when he’d feel the cold in his bones. Maybe after coming from a place like that you could never get warm enough.
He went into the kitchen and surveyed the items in his refrigerator. He wanted to make something that would let him show off a little bit, but that would also look as though he hadn’t gone to too much trouble. He pulled the ingredients for crepes from the refrigerator and the pantry, setting out blackberries, strawberries, and blueberries for toppings.
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