Sinful (Undone)

by Jennifer Dawson

  “I’m making it my business.” He drops his foot to the floor and leans forward. “She’s curious now, intrigued, you did that, and sent her out into the wild, but you didn’t think it through. Do you really want her going on her own to figure it out?”

  “She’s not like that.”

  “You have your head up your ass, because I guarantee you she’s exactly like that.”

  This statement, this presumption that he knows her better after twenty-four hours, enrages me. I get up from the couch and stalk around the room. “You don’t know her like I do.”

  “Yeah, I’m not half in love with her so I can see her clearly.”

  That gives me pause and I whip around to face him. “I’m not in love with her.”

  He raises a brow. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “I’m not.”

  He shrugs. “Suit yourself. I’m coming here to give you fair warning. And you need to trust me on this. We had a little chat, she has all the signs, and if you won’t take her in hand, I will.”

  Everything goes still. So quiet you can hear a pin drop. “Over my dead body.”

  Brandon doesn’t look remotely fazed. “I like her, she’s a hell of a woman, and I’m not going to let her loose. You know the guys that are out there, Leo. Do you want her running into them?”

  “What do you mean you like her?” This calm, it can’t lead to anywhere good.

  “I mean she’s sexy, gorgeous, and fun as hell. I mean she’s exactly the kind of girl I take pleasure in bending to my will. And unlike you, I’m not too big of a pussy to handle her.”

  I ignore the stab at my manhood. “You don’t understand.”

  “Explain it to me.”

  “I don’t want to coerce her into something she doesn’t really want. If she’s curious, it’s not enough.”

  “That is bullshit. I know how you operate, and you play things safe and close to the vest, and you can’t do that with Jillian. That’s what’s killing you. With her, you can’t play it all cool and distant. You, my friend, are running scared.”

  No, that can’t be.

  Jillian

  After breakfast, I wasted the day, wandering up and down the streets of Chicago, thinking and stewing. My mind in constant motion as I strolled through Millennium Park. When that failed to soothe me, I went to the Art Institute, where I’m a member. A gift from my parents for my birthday they renew every year so I can look at art whenever I want.

  I meander through the corridors, pausing at my favorite pieces before continuing on. Finally, I find a bench in my favorite room and sit among the work I love, for a long, long time until I feel calm enough to go home.

  Heather is already gone when I get there, and I have the apartment to myself all weekend since she’s staying with her new beau at his lake house up in Geneva. I can’t decide if I’m happy to be alone or not. Alone, I don’t have to pretend I’m not obsessing about Leo, but then, it also leaves me with nothing to do but obsess.

  I’m restless. Like I want to jump out of my skin. And no matter how much I walked today, I’m unable to relax and get comfortable.

  Gwen is working so she’s not an option. I could call one of my other friends to go out, but I’m not sure I can stomach the whole bar scene tonight. No, tonight I want to stay in my shorts and tank top, my hair in a ponytail, wearing no makeup. I want to sit on my couch and watch bad movies, eat popcorn, and occasionally break out a few tears.

  I’m just not sure I want to do it alone.

  But since alone is what I seem destined to be I might as well get used to it.

  Several hours later, there’s an insistent buzz at the front door, right at the best part of Never Been Kissed.

  I pause the movie and get up. At the intercom, I ask, “Who is it?”

  A beat of a second. “Leo.”

  My heart rate immediately kicks up in my chest as I stare at the speaker. He’s here. He’s come to me. My finger hovers over the button to let him in, but I stop at the last minute, and press the intercom instead. “What do you want?”

  “Let me in.”

  “Why?”

  “Goddamn it, Jillian. Let me up.” He sounds angry, and out of sorts. More agitated than I ever remember hearing him in the past.

  I want to let him up, but don’t. “We said everything we needed to last night.”

  There’s silence and I hold my breath, unsure of what he’s going to say. My lungs burn. Finally, there’s a crackle over the speaker. “That was before you decided to have breakfast with Brandon this morning.”

  “Ah, so this is just another jealous fit, is that it?” Despite the thrill of having him standing at my doorstep, I have no desire to repeat last night.

  “My jealous fit was hours ago, I’ve moved on.”

  I can’t help the smile that comes to my lips. “What phase are you in now?”

  He lets go an exasperated sigh. “The phase where I break down your door if you don’t let me in.”

  Him, here, begging to come up is what I want. What I’ve always wanted, but I’m not ready to buzz him in. I don’t want to hope, only to end up crying again. I press the button. “Are you here to tell me how wrong I am for you? And how I’ll find some other guy?”

  “No, I’m here to tell you I’m sorry.” The speaker falls silent for a good fifteen seconds before he says, “He can’t have you, Jillian.”

  Something in the tone of his voice cracks my resolve, but I still don’t take the actions that will lead him to my apartment. “So this is about being competitive with Brandon?”

  “No, although, I don’t like it. But if you’re going to travel down this road, it’s going to be with me.”

  “I don’t know what road I’m going to travel.” Because I don’t, I only know something did stir in me today when Brandon told me the Leo story, and I’m not ready to let it go.

  “Do we have to have this conversation like this?”

  “Yes.”

  A second later my cell phone rings and I pick it up, with a breathless, “Hello.”

  “I’m going to at least stop talking through that damn buzzer.”

  “I don’t know what else there is to say. Nothing has changed since last night.” That’s not true, everything has changed, I just don’t know what it all means.

  “I don’t agree.”

  I want so badly to let him up, but something stops me. I sigh, knowing what it is. “This is because of Brandon, not me. If he didn’t tell you he went to breakfast with me, you’d probably be at his club, giving some other girl ten orgasms.”

  There’s a long pause before he says, “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “You’re not here for me—you’re here because you don’t want Brandon to have me. And I’m sorry, but that’s not good enough.”

  “That’s not true. I’m here for you, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since last night.” He blows out a long breath. “You know, I’m actually pretty good with other women, but I always manage to fuck up with you.”

  “Yeah, you do.” I sag against my wall and slide to the floor.

  Tension and awkwardness crackles over the line between us. Finally, he says, “Jillian, this has nothing to do with Brandon, other than he likes to point out that I’m an idiot and can’t see something he finds plain as day. This is about wanting you too much, and being afraid that if I give in to this thing between us, I’ll end up losing you forever.”

  When I don’t speak he continues, “I usually keep my relationships at a distance, and I can’t do that with you. You mean too much to me, and losing you would be bad enough, but if I hurt you somehow, even unintentionally, Michael will never forgive me. And maybe it’s silly, I don’t know, but he’s the closest thing I have to a brother.”

  He doesn’t finish the rest of the sentence, because I already know. Leo’s already lost his brother—not only his brother, his twin—and he’s protecting himself from more loss.

  I have no idea what it’s like to lose someone like
that, but I can’t imagine it doesn’t affect a person. That it doesn’t affect Leo. And, selfishly, I hadn’t thought about it like that. The implications of what a relationship with me would do to his relationship with Michael. Especially given their mutual proclivities.

  I stand up. “If I let you in, what will happen?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea. I just know we need to talk.”

  “Are you going to tell me that you’re not going to help me figure this out?”

  “No, I am not.”

  “And you understand I’m not going to be your little slave girl.”

  He laughs, a bark of sound that I can’t distinguish between bitterness or amusement. “Never even crossed my mind.” His voice drops, taking on a low, soothing purr. “Let me in, Jillian.”

  I press the buzzer, and wait.

  When I open the door we just kind of stare at each other, unsure what to do or say.

  I just know he’s here and I want him.

  I swallow hard. He looks good. Dangerous. All dark and forbidding. His chest broad in a navy T-shirt, his body lean in faded jeans.

  He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I don’t suppose you’ll take pity on me and put some clothes on.”

  It lightens the mood considerably, as I’m sure is his intention. I cock my hip, encased in my small cotton shorts that hug my body and expose endless lengths of thigh. “I have plenty of clothes on.”

  “Hardly,” he says before raising a brow. “Can I come in?”

  I stand back and he brushes past me. As he walks into my place, I catch the scent of him and I suck in a breath. He smells like spice, sex and wickedness. I shut the door and ask, “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’m good for now.” He peers around the apartment. “Is your roommate home?”

  “No, she’s in Geneva with her new beau.”

  He turns, his expression dark. “So we’re alone?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  A brief smile tilts the curve of his lips. “You’re really calling my bluff this weekend, aren’t you?”

  I hadn’t thought about it that way, but I suppose I am. I shrug my bare shoulder. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to do what’s best for me.”

  He points to the couch. “Let’s sit down and you can tell me about it.”

  A sudden, and entirely unexpected, kick of nerves thumps in my chest. I make my way around the couch, situating myself in the farthest corner. His head tilts, and he studies me with an intent look I can’t decipher before he takes his opposite corner.

  The two of us face off, the wariness of his expression matching my own.

  He juts his chin toward me. “So tell me what you’re hoping to accomplish.”

  I lick my bottom lip, rubbing my teeth over the wet flesh as I think about my answer.

  His dark eyes track the movement. He puts his arm along the back of the sofa, his long fingers sliding against the beige fabric.

  This is my shot. A chance to put my money where my mouth is. With no ploys, no seduction, just flat-out truth. It terrifies me, but I know I have to do this. That it will be the deciding factor in either the beginning or the end of our relationship.

  I clear my throat. “First, I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought about things from your perspective. I feel like there’s all these missing pieces of the puzzle nobody has ever bothered to fill me in on, and when I learn more, your resistance makes more sense. I probably should have asked you flat out a long time ago.”

  He sighs. “Let’s agree we’ve both made mistakes. I left you little choice but to presume, and you did the best you could with the information you had.”

  “I don’t want to damage your relationship with Michael. I’d never do that to you.” I shift restlessly in my seat, unable to find a comfortable spot. “If we decide to pursue this, we don’t have to tell him until we know what direction we’re heading.”

  His features soften and he shakes his head. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but I refuse to hide you.”

  The statement makes my chest squeeze tight. I made the offer with pure intentions, but I don’t want to be hidden away like some dirty little secret. It makes me hopeful he doesn’t want that either.

  When I don’t speak, he prompts, “Tell me what exactly you think is best for you?”

  I take a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “I honestly don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out. From the first time I saw you, the day you and Michael graduated from the academy, there was something about you that captivated me. You were in your uniform, and I couldn’t see your eyes under the brim of your cap, but when you shook my hand it was like a shock to the system and I was instantly infatuated.”

  “Go on,” he says, his voice soft and low, soothing somehow.

  The confession feels good, lightening something that’s been heavy inside me.

  “I thought that was all it was, and when you showed no interest in me I went on with my life. I dated, had fun, and it wasn’t like I saw you all the time. But every time I did my infatuation would grow and I’d conveniently find a reason to dump the guy I was seeing shortly after.” I laugh, shaking my head at my own ridiculousness. “Well, you know, I’m pretty quick, and the pattern only repeated five or six times before I realized you may be affecting my relationships with other men.”

  Leo chuckles and the sound vibrates through me, making me shiver. “Just a tiny bit.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Don’t gloat, it’s embarrassing enough.”

  He smiles, and it reaches all the way to his eyes. “Would it make you feel better to learn when I met you that day, my first thoughts weren’t exactly pure? And you’ve never been far from my mind?”

  “It does, actually.” Our gazes meet, and my belly heats, as the air thickens between us. “What was your first thought?”

  He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you someday, but out of context it sounds all sorts of wrong.”

  I think about arguing, but decide against it. “But you’ll tell me?”

  He nods. “I promise. Keep going.”

  I gather up my thoughts, remembering where I left off. “After I realized, I started trying to flirt with you, and while your words said no, the way you looked at me made me believe you were lying. But I couldn’t seem to break you. Do you remember that night when you drove me home from that party, I don’t even remember the girl’s name, but I thought I had you then. When I didn’t, and you told me yet again that you had no interest in me, I was just so frustrated I decided it was time to move on. Which leads us to last night. I guess I’m at the point where if you’re not an option for me, I need to figure out a way to move on. And it made sense that started with closure. So I forced your hand, only this wasn’t the expected outcome.”

  His dark eyes narrow and his hand shifts along the couch. “And what do you think now that you know more?”

  “I don’t know.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t have enough information, but I don’t think it changes my need to get some sort of closure. And that kiss didn’t provide it the way I thought it might. All it did was make me want more. But you wouldn’t talk to me, and your answers to my questions were just…I don’t know… They seemed designed to turn me off. To make sure I left you alone.”

  Another nod. “And that’s why you went to Brandon? For answers I wouldn’t give you?”

  “Yes. He’s more forthcoming than you are because he’s not busy trying to protect me.”

  “Well, he has nothing to lose.”

  “I know.” It’s easy for Brandon to be cool, just like it’s easy for me to let down my guard around him, there’s no emotional risk for either of us.

  He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I did describe it in very cold, clinical ways when it’s not that way at all. My only excuse is I’m afraid.”

  I blink at the admission. I don’t know why I find this so shocking but I do, and when I speak my voice is as surprised as I feel. “Why?”

>   He blows out a breath before dragging a hand through his short dark hair. “The list seems endless. I don’t do commitment, and you are a commitment type of girl. I know how you feel about me and how I feel about you, and even a glimpse of our chemistry is enough to know it will be consuming. I’m afraid I’ll make you want it, merely because of the circumstances, and not because it’s what you really are or need. And I don’t want to do that to you. It’s not responsible and I owe you at least that. Do you understand?”

  I think, for the first time, I did. “I might not like your methods, but yes, I do understand.”

  “I’ve always stuck with women who knew what they were, who were experienced and sure of what they wanted. I always tell them upfront what I’m willing to give and they can either take it or leave it. This, you, is uncharted territory for me. I’m not sure which way to turn, and it makes me uncomfortable. Which, well, just makes me more uncomfortable.”

  I swallow hard. It’s the most honest and forthright he’s ever been and it eases the knot of tension sitting in my chest. “This is uncharted territory for me too.”

  We fall silent for a bit, both of us lost in our own thoughts, but he finally turns back to me. “When I decided to come here, I vowed to be completely honest with you, both the good and the bad. It’s hard to see past the veil of my own worry, to see things clearly. I’m too close. And based on his conversations with you Brandon seems sure you at least have some tendencies toward submission. So I need you to explain it to me, in very explicit and detailed language what you and Brandon talked about this morning, and exactly how it made you feel.”

  This makes me nervous and a bit frightened, but it needs to be done.

  For better or for worse, from now on, the truth is the only option. I begin to talk.

  And I leave absolutely nothing out.

  Leo

  While fighting my baser urges, and the jealousy eating away at me, I listen and don’t interrupt. Because, I am jealous.

  I’m jealous that she had such a fast, easy connection with Brandon.