Off Limits

by Jules Barnard

  Mom’s hands still, and I look over my shoulder. “Are you disappointed? You said you wouldn’t be.”

  She shakes her head and scoots closer. “No, I’m not disappointed. Turn back around.” I do as she says, and she starts braiding again. “Tyler isn’t the medical doctor I envisioned the day he came home in sixth grade and rattled off the name of every bone in the human body, but he’s teaching biology and living somewhere that makes him happy.”

  Tyler shifts in his chair, and I wonder again what he’s not telling us. There’s a story behind his long visit.

  “I want that for you, sweetheart,” Mom continues. “Trust me when I say you won’t be happy working at the casinos for the rest of your life.” From the corner of my eye, I see her shoulders rise and fall. “Do I feel a sense of panic when you say you’ll be staying on at the lake? Yes. It’s beautiful, but the lifestyle in that town can be crude. People come looking for utopia and wind up broke with an STD and a drug addiction.”

  My lip curls. “Gross, Mom.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  I think about Drake and some of the other people I’ve worked with. She’s totally right. The casinos attract people looking to make quick money, not all of them trustworthy or moral.

  “You’re capable of so much more, but if you don’t want to go to Harvard, then you shouldn’t.” She swings the end of the braid over my shoulder and stands. “I don’t want you to ever feel alone in this life. As long as there is air in my lungs, I’m here for you.” She bends and kisses my forehead, her perfume and the soft feel of her lips a balm to my frayed nerves.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I spend the next couple of days at my mom’s kitchen counter using my laptop to research art and design classes in Lake Tahoe. The more I think about pursuing art, the more right it feels. Jaeger put the bug in my ear during our hike at Fallen Leaf Lake, and if I think back, Gen nudged me a time or two about my drawings as well, but I never took her seriously. I wasn’t ready.

  I’m ready now.

  Once I knocked down the walls of the narrow corridor that was the road to my future, the possibilities opened up. Options I never considered, but that were probably always there, waiting to be explored. What better time to try something new than when you have nothing to lose?

  I texted Gen when I first arrived to tell her I’d be away, but I haven’t contacted Jaeger, other than to tell him I’m out of town. He’s called several times and left three messages. I haven’t returned a single one. I need to figure myself out before I confront him. The last thing I want is to lose him, but getting myself in order should come first.

  By the time Tyler and I return to the lake, I have pages of information on classes, as well as informational phone interviews lined up with a couple of local artists. I know zilch about what it takes to make a living in this field. I’m hoping that talking to other artists will help, and I wanted to do that outside of Jaeger, even though he’s an artist too. This career change isn’t about Jaeger. He gave me the idea for it, but this has to come from me, no matter what happens between him and me.

  I’ve been sketching like crazy, and now that I’ve delved into it I wish I’d considered a creative art career a long time ago. It still scares the crap out of me. Art doesn’t require a scholarly predisposition, which is what I’ve relied on to get ahead. Art is about creativity and imagination. A career in this field is a leap of faith that could make me truly happy—or could land me flat on my face. But considering that my nose has had an up close and personal view of the gutter, thanks to my ex-boyfriend and Blue Casino, what’s the worst that can happen?

  Since my brother and I have been back these last couple of days, both Gen and I have been busy. We haven’t discussed the argument we had before I left, and I haven’t asked her why she was in Jaeger’s arms at the casino. The fact she kept the Eric thing from me for as long as she did has me hesitating. Which is all the more reason to talk to my best friend, because we’ve never had trust issues before and we need to get back on track.

  But first… it’s been nearly a week since I fled the casino and I’ve finally mustered up the nerve to visit Jaeger.

  The location of his house from the one time I went there is a little fuzzy. I make two wrong turns and finally find the correct driveway on the third try. I could have called ahead, but I’ve avoided him for a week and I really want to see him in person to explain.

  I’m in luck, because his truck is in the driveway.

  My heart speeds up and my hands shake. I’m usually good with confrontation, but facing Jaeger has me scared. Now that I’ve had some time away from the whole situation, there’s a good chance I misinterpreted what I saw going on between him and Gen at the casino, but there’s also a chance I was right. It’s that possibility that has my nerves in a bundle. Because I really care about Jaeger and I want to continue what we started.

  I ease Tyler’s old Land Cruiser beside Jaeger’s truck and step out, gulping in the pine and earth scent, grounding myself. It’s late afternoon and the sun is low in the sky, casting shadows around the front yard. A beam of light shoots past the swing where Jaeger kissed me, making me even more nervous and hopeful that everything will turn out okay.

  My heart thumps hard as I jog up the front steps to his house and knock on the door. I pull my hair back and twist it behind my neck and out of my face.

  After a long pause, I knock again, and glance back at his truck in the driveway to confirm I didn’t imagine it there.

  When still no one answers, I gingerly lean over the porch and peer in the window. The living room is dim and lifeless.

  Did he go somewhere without his truck?

  When I first exited the Land Cruiser, my ears were ringing from the noise of Tyler’s beater, but now I’m picking up the sound of birds and insects—and a soft hum coming from the woodshop. He’s working?

  I make my way around the side of the house and across the pavers. The sound of a machine stirring the air grows louder.

  I’m not surprised when no one answers my knock on his woodshop door, with the machine running so loudly inside. I twist the knob and slowly enter.

  Jaeger’s back is to me. He’s in blue jeans and a plain T-shirt that fits loosely around his waist, hugging the muscles in his back and arms. He’s working with something that looks like a giant sewing machine with a saw instead of a needle. Attention focused, his gloved hands carefully maneuver the wood in front of him.

  The urge to run to him and wrap my arms around his back overwhelms me. I want to smell and touch him and be close. But I don’t know where we stand or what I witnessed at the casino. Plus, I don’t want him to cut off a finger. Lunging at him while he’s operating a saw probably isn’t the best idea.

  Jaeger shuts off the machine, squats to adjust something under the table, and brushes wood shavings from his head. They fall like snow, and I wonder if that’s the point of keeping his hair short.

  The air in the shop smells of burnt wood and a faint hint of Jaeger’s aftershave. I breathe in deeply and he stills. He pushes clear protective glasses to the top of his head and turns around.

  “Hey,” I say.

  Expression blank, he doesn’t move for a moment, seemingly stunned to see me here. Slowly, he pulls off his gloves and tucks them into his back pocket, his eyes darkening.

  I move a few steps toward him. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I—I needed—”

  My words cut off as he looks down my body with reverence and appreciation. His gaze stops on my mouth, a look of hunger in his eyes making my belly tighten.

  How does he do that? Just one look and I want to spring at him and kiss him all over. Okay, maybe I wanted to do that from the moment I entered, but the look he’s giving me intensifies the desire.

  Jaeger rubs his forehead and leans against the table.

  “I had to figure some things out,” I finish, crossing my arms to keep the pounding of my heart from lurching out of my chest.

  He follows the motion,
his gaze in line with my breasts, taking its leisurely time back up to my face. Naughty, naughty boy—putting dirty thoughts in my mind. Okay—truth—they were already there.

  Stay on track! “I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”

  He gives his head a quick shake. “What?”

  God, his deep, rumbly voice. Focus! “I saw you with Gen,” I say in a rush. “At the casino. You were holding her.”

  Jaeger’s brow furrows and he peers down, as if thinking. “When?”

  “A week ago. I went to visit her and you were there. Your arms were wrapped around each other.”

  “Cali, I have no idea—wait, do you mean after that piece of shit touched her?”

  Huh? Someone touched Gen? Like, groped her?

  I have no idea what Jaeger’s talking about, and that’s just sad. My next point of business is to sit Gen down and figure out what’s been going on. “What are you talking about?”

  “Some coworker at the casino groped her—I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her for specifics. It happened while I was visiting Mason. She was shaken up. I talked to her and gave her a hug.”

  “That’s all?”

  Jaeger lets out a long breath. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me? You still think there’s something going on between me and Gen?”

  I blink several times. Why does it sound reactionary and ridiculous when he says it? My logic seemed perfectly sound a week ago. “It’s not as bad as it seems. Things happened. Gen and I are having trust issues.”

  “But you can trust me.” Anger and frustration fill his voice.

  He’s right. I had no reason not to trust him. “I’m sorry. It’s just, well, it upset me—seeing you with someone else. And with my friend?”

  Jaeger stalks across the room and I take a step back. I don’t think he’ll hurt me, but instinct dictates I move out of the path of a large, determined male. He stops abruptly and grabs my hips, pulling me toward him. My hands fly to his arms for balance, and because he’s hot and his biceps call to me. If the timing weren’t so inappropriate, I’d nuzzle his chest too.

  “The only woman I think about is you.” He pushes me back and cradles my head before it slams into the wall. “I’ve been pretty direct about my intentions toward you.” Jaeger skims his hands down and around the backs of my thighs, lifting and wrapping my legs around his waist.

  I grasp his shoulders and he presses me to the wall, anchoring us. “I’m beginning to understand,” I say in as calm a voice as I can manage. In reality, my heart is rampaging inside my chest like a wild animal, my entire body quivering like some virgin about to be deflowered.

  He runs his nose down my neck, tickling my skin. “You sure? Need me to be more clear?” His hand slides up my thigh to my ass and squeezes.

  I let out a breathy exhale. “It couldn’t hurt,” I say, voice thready.

  Jaeger kisses my neck, his tongue dipping to the hollow at my throat. The scruff of his stubble brushes my skin as he drags his mouth toward my lips. “I want you,” he says before taking my mouth in a deep, searing kiss.

  I moan and kiss him with everything I’ve held back—everything I haven’t said that’s simmered inside from the moment we met.

  His arms tighten around me, chest rising and falling more quickly. He rocks his hard length right where I want it and a ripple of pleasure shoots through me.

  Oh God. That. Again.

  Using his shoulders for leverage, I mimic the move, but it’s not enough. I can’t reach all of him while I’m pressed to the wall, and I want more. “Go—” I say, between kisses, “somewhere else.” I wiggle to make my point, hormones robbing me of succinct speech.

  He gets the gist, because one of his arms snakes behind my back, the other secured under my rear as he carries me away from the wall.

  I kiss and lick and distract him as best I can. He’s walking blind because of it, but I’m feeling a tad impatient. Clenching the back of his shirt, I tug upward, but the dang thing gets caught on his arms.

  He needs his arms to hold me—an obvious problem if more than a tenth of my brain were operating. “Off,” I mumble.

  Where is he taking me? I hope it’s close and not the house. That’s like a football field away. One of these nice wooden surfaces would—

  Suddenly I’m free-falling, gripping his shirt and not much else. I land on soft cushions.

  My hands pat the surface beneath me. The old leather couch. Excellent.

  Jaeger follows me down. Now we are getting somewhere.

  I moan my approval about the new locale and whip his shirt over his head, running my hands down his wide shoulders and thickly muscled chest to the ridges of his abs. My finger traces the waistband of his loose-fitting jeans, slipping between it and his stomach. His hand freezes above the breast he’s exploring and he lets out a slow breath, his dark green eyes flashing.

  I turn my palm flat—fingers pointed south—and slip beneath his boxer briefs. The back of my hand grazes his long, hard length, and my stomach flutters.

  He presses his forehead to mine. “Cali,” he says deeply, his tone laced with warning.

  I spread my fingers apart along his lower stomach and slide through the hair of his groin, tugging at the skin and tightening places I know are aching, because I’m aching there too.

  His arms tense and shake beside my head. He’s holding his breath. “This is it,” he says. “We’re together. Okay? No more trust issues.”

  I nod and leisurely lick his bottom lip with the tip of my tongue.

  My shirt sweeps over my head in nearly the same second my pants are yanked down and off my feet. I’m naked in 2.2 seconds, Jaeger’s body between my thighs as he takes my nipple into his mouth. I moan and lock my legs around his back, rubbing against the muscles of his stomach. If I weren’t hormone-drunk, some of this might seem a little fast, a little brazen—even for me—but this is Jaeger and I really don’t care.

  Want him.

  He reaches around and palms my ass before slipping a finger inside me. In and out that thick, masculine finger goes; every third dip, curling and slipping over the most sensitive spot.

  Want. Now.

  I yank beneath his arms to pull him up, but it’s like trying to heave a semi truck. He swirls his tongue around my nipple one last time, eases his finger out with a couple of last swishes over the spot that has me panting, and glides his hands up my body, shooting naughty messages to every pore.

  Damn it! His pants are still on.

  I flip open the snap and push them down with my feet. Jaeger kicks them off and settles between my legs, kissing me.

  My knees drop to the side as his fat tip rubs at my entrance. I squeeze his ass. He’s huge and silky and I want him inside.

  He breaks the kiss. “Pill?” he whispers in my ear.

  “On it. Have you been—”

  “Tested a year ago. The last time I was with someone.”

  Screech. Whoa, what?

  He nudges in a couple of inches, and I lose that train of thought entirely. Another gentle thrust and he’s stretching me.

  He lifts his head and looks in my eyes as he rocks slowly, going deeper with every movement. My legs weaken, shaking with pleasure. Our breaths mingle, and I’m clinging to him, my arms like thin brackets around his large body as he moves above me.

  I’m panting by the time the first spasm hits. Jaeger’s gaze turns hazy and unfocused, as if he feels my orgasm building and it pleasures him too. Another spasm shoots from my core, and then I’m bucking in uncontrolled bliss.

  Somewhere in the euphoria fog that keeps rolling, I sense Jaeger’s pace pick up. He dips his head to the side and kisses my neck. He groans near my ear, the sound so sexy and deep that another quick spasm rocks me. His hips surge several more times and then slow, his breathing fast, his body jolting every couple of seconds with aftershocks.

  Jaeger’s hand slides under my shoulders and he cradles my head, tucking it beneath his chin as his breathing calms. He wraps an arm around my back
and pulls me close, maneuvering to his side with me plastered to his front.

  I lie still, listening to his heart pounding beneath my ear, utter and complete peace sweeping over me.

  This wasn’t sex, it was… I don’t know. Or maybe I do and I don’t want to ponder it.

  My eyelids close, sleep pulling me under.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I wake to a view of the lake through a window at the foot of the bed. Faded light filters over the mountain ridges. Soft sheets whisper over my palms. What the…?

  I’m in Jaeger’s bedroom? The last thing I remember is the couch in his workshop.

  Heat floods my face. That couch will go down in history. At least, it will go down in my history. Wow—just, wow. Not that my past experience is extensive, but I’d like to think I was thorough with the few partners I’ve had. None of them gave me an orgasm through straight sex. But I should consider this very important finding later.

  How the hell did I end up here?

  I glance around the bedroom. It’s cozy, with a Mission-style dresser and plain but expensive sheets based on the feel of them. I don’t remember getting dressed and walking over. Technically, I’m not dressed, I acknowledge, as I slide my bare legs over the soft sheets. Did the man knock me out with his lovemaking? What the hell happened?

  And Jesus. I sit up and pull the light blue sheet to my chest. Why am I calling our sex lovemaking? Eric and I never called it that. I tuck the fabric beneath my legs and around my back, as if to protect myself.

  Jaeger walks out of the bathroom, a dark blue towel wrapped around his waist, water beaded on his shoulders. My jaw drops; my breathing speeds up. Steam from the shower and the scent of his aftershave waft toward me. He’s like a walking aphrodisiac.