by Jo Leigh
“I’m sorry.”
“No more apologies. I’m fine.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shawn drag Bill out of the room. A small miracle.
“You’re not fine. I nearly crippled you.”
He touched her chin with his index finger. “I can assure you, there’s no permanent damage.”
Her expression relaxed, and a slight smile curved her pink lips. “We shouldn’t go.”
“Why not?” he asked. He shifted and winced at the pain in his groin, which answered his own question. Two hours on a bike? With her? Yeah, he’d be crippled.
“That’s why.”
He nodded. “Another day.”
She took his hand in hers and brought his palm to her lips, giving him the most delicate of kisses. That started a chain reaction that he couldn’t have stopped for anything. He moved his hand and kissed her. Gently, soothingly. At least, at first. But when he felt her warm tongue touch his bottom lip, he cried uncle. He opened his mouth, and they teased each other with darting, swirling tongues. He groaned when she nipped his lip, and when he thrust inside her sweet mouth, she whimpered.
Some small part of his brain registered that he was, indeed, completely functional, although there was a distinctive throb of a completely different kind that, while it didn’t exactly hurt, didn’t feel great, either. But dammit, he wanted her. Now. Right now. On the floor in his neighbors’ apartment. His fingers slipped through the soft silk of her hair, then lingered on her shoulder. She shuddered as he deepened the kiss and ran his hand down her chest until he touched the top of her swelling breast.
Her breath hitched, and he froze, but when she sucked the tip of his tongue, he nearly lost it. Cupping her breast, he felt how hard her nipple was, even through the sweater and her bra. Like his cock, she was at attention, in full-need mode. He gently squeezed her flesh, eliciting another moan.
“All right, you two,” Shawn said from somewhere. “Get a room. I’ve got corned beef to cook.”
She bit down, and Jay cried out, sure his tongue was toast. Amelia jerked away.
“It’s only me,” Shawn said, heading to the stove. “No need to be embarrassed.”
“I’m sorry,” she said to Jay. “I can’t believe this.”
Jay touched his tongue with his finger. No blood. The pain had eased considerably, enough for him to ignore it and tend to Amelia. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
He couldn’t help his grin. “Honey, you’re going to have to get up,” he whispered as gently as he could.
“I know,” she said, although she didn’t move.
Shawn shook his wooden spoon in the general direction of the sink. “Don’t be ridiculous. Amelia, I need to ask some questions. He’ll be fine. He’s been bitten in worse places, I’m sure.”
Jay gave him a scathing look, as if that would shut the old coot up.
“So, darling,” Shawn said, ignoring Jay completely. “Tell me something. You cook?”
It worked. She started to relax. She nodded.
“Any specialties?”
She blinked a couple of times. “Um, I don’t… Well, I make a good lasagna.”
Shawn nodded, and Jay’s suspicion mounted. What was his neighbor up to?
“You like to read?”
“Very much.”
“Good. Because he’s a reader. And a writer. Why don’t you ask him about it when you leave?”
Jay scrabbled to his feet, ignoring the pain, ready to tell Shawn to mind his own business. But then he felt Amelia’s hand on his leg, and Shawn was saved. Damn busybody.
Amelia frowned, and Jay smiled, not wanting her to think his ire was directed at her.
She turned to Shawn. “We should go now.”
Shawn came over and kissed her on the forehead. “Be safe. Be kind.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes.”
“I understand, I think, about wanting to know if I like to read. But why did you want to know if I can cook?”
“Because I like to eat. And Jay can’t cook worth shit.”
She laughed out loud. Jay just watched her. She changed when she laughed. Lightened up in a way that made her shine. It was her laugh that told him most about her secret self. Uninhibited and sweet… Like a diamond, there were a hundred facets to this shy girl from the cyber café. And he wanted to explore each and every one.
AMELIA WAVED as Bill shut the door. “They’re nice.”
Jay nodded. “They were good friends with my grandfather.”
“Were?”
He took her hand to lead her back to the elevator, but he slowed as he neared his apartment. “He died a few months ago. This used to be his place.”
“Were you two close?”
“Yeah. Real close. He was…great. You’d have liked him.”
Amelia caught the change in his voice, although his expression didn’t alter a bit. He was a man used to hiding his feelings. He accused her of being the invisible one—but wasn’t this almost the same? While she was cloaked in baggy sweaters and skirts, he hid behind his leather jacket and his charisma. His tough-guy image.
He loved his grandfather. He helped his elderly neighbors. She’d never have guessed, but it pleased her a great deal. She’d been prepared for him to be a self-serving bastard. A man that good-looking was usually arrogant beyond measure. Maybe Jay had his arrogant moments, but his actions were generous. Shawn had made it a point to say he was a writer. Jay’s reaction intrigued her. She’d explore that later. If there was going to be a later.
Whether there was a future for them or not, she’d like to read whatever he wrote. It would be good, of that she had no doubt. His manner was educated, sophisticated and intense. A great combination.
“Come on,” he said as he tugged her hand. “I’ve got to get out of these clothes.”
SOME PEOPLE DIDN’T BELIEVE in fate. They were fools. Because what else could have brought Amelia to his apartment, where she’d gone immediately to the bookcase, which put her in a direct line with the mirror in his bedroom…where he was about to get naked. Oh, and he couldn’t leave out the part about how his having to get naked was her fault.
It was worth a wrench on the balls. And he couldn’t think of one other damn thing he could say that about.
She scanned his shelves avidly, and he tried to remember where he’d put his novel. Under something, he thought, so he should be safe. Or maybe, if she did find it, that would be the reason she’d turn toward the bedroom. Look down the hall. Into the mirror.
He positioned himself so that she would only see his reflection, not his body. He could see her, too, but he had to be careful not to be caught staring, or she’d know it wasn’t an accident.
He kicked off his boots, threw his jacket on the bed. Then he unbuttoned his shirt, getting rid of it as quickly as possible. She might look this way any second, and he needed to be ready.
Once he got to his belt, he paused. In her fantasy, the guy was already naked when she looked. But maybe it would be even sexier if he was in the midst of stripping.
Screw it. She’d already written the script. All he had to do was play his part. He unbuttoned his jeans and slipped them off, taking his boxers at the same time.
There. He was naked. And Little Jay was damn happy about it. He checked the mirror. Shit. Where was she—? Okay. She hadn’t run out the door screaming. She still had her attention focused on the books.
What if she didn’t turn? How long was he supposed to stand here? His legs were still damp—
He cursed silently as he dashed into his bathroom. How sexy would it have been for her to come down the hall, sink to her knees, and turn green because he smelled like garbage? Fate might be in charge, but the details were still in his backyard.
He washed quickly, dried more quickly still, and made it back into position without breaking a sweat. However, his penis had gone flaccid, and that wasn’t right.
Not that it was so bad to look
at, but the script said hard, and he wanted to be hard. He glanced at her reflection. She had found a book to look at on the top shelf. Her sweater had ridden up as she reached for it, showing off her delectable ass.
Well, that took care of his problem. Now, all he had to do was get her to look. He wanted her to do it spontaneously. He willed her to look, focused on it with all his might.
After a few moments, his gaze went to his reflection instead of hers, and he turned a little to the right. Sucked in his gut. Ran a hand through his hair. Then froze as he realized what it would look like if she saw him now.
He closed his eyes, cursing himself for being such a jackass. He shifted, not even sure where to stand, what to do. He hadn’t thought this part through. If she caught him looking at her reflection, it was all over. She’d think he was a pervert, and she’d be out of here in two seconds flat. He’d be lucky if she didn’t call the police. So if he couldn’t look at her, how would he know she was looking at him?
His impromptu plan fell around him in an undignified heap. It was time to end the game, call it a forfeit and figure out what he was going to do with Ms. Amelia once he was dressed.
Only, the decision got put on hold when he looked up to see a pair of very startled green eyes staring at him in the mirror.
8
AMELIA FROZE. Naked. He was naked. Completely naked, and she could see his— Oh God. As she stared, utterly unable to move a muscle, he grew. It was like watching a wind sock fill with air.
She should go. Now. Right now.
Her gaze moved back up to his eyes. Chocolate-brown eyes. Finely drawn, sharp features… The straight line of the shoulders, the unconsciously graceful way he held himself. Well-muscled arms, the beautifully molded, smooth chest marred only by a thin scar by his right shoulder. Slim hips and flat stomach. A line of dark hair beginning low on his abdomen, widening to where the erection stood away from his body.
The man was a work of art. Golden skin and rippling muscle. Controlled power and fierce male beauty.
And he was real. Not a fantasy. Or perhaps he was the ultimate fantasy. She wasn’t sure anymore. It didn’t matter. All she had to do was walk into his room. Touch him. Get down on her knees…
She took a step.
His lips parted and his chest rose as he inhaled deeply.
She took another step, her gaze moving from his eyes, to his chest, to his dark, thick—
Oh God. What was she doing? She practically threw herself at the door. Her hand fumbled on the knob as he called her name. She couldn’t stay another second. She could never look at him again.
The door opened and she bolted, making it to the elevator in two seconds and pounding on the button.
“Amelia.”
She looked back. He stood in his doorway, his shirt held over his crotch. His chest heaving with deep draughts of air, his gaze troubled.
Of course his gaze was troubled. She’d just caught him naked. Yes, they’d kissed, but…oh God.
“Amelia, don’t go. I’m sorry.”
Where was the stupid elevator? She punched the button again. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said, staring at the elevator doors. “I didn’t know. I would never have looked.”
Her face was about to burst into flames. She couldn’t believe it. First she clobbered his penis, then this. And she’d almost walked right up to him.
A hand on her shoulder stopped her cold.
“Amelia. Wait.”
She glanced at him. Still naked. Just the shirt covering his front. In the hallway. She moaned and covered her face with her hands.
“Come back inside. I’ll get dressed. It’s no big deal.”
She peeked through her fingers. “No big deal? I’d die.”
He smiled. “I didn’t.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m being a dope, aren’t I.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Yes, I am. I’m twenty-four. I shouldn’t be hysterical over seeing a man naked.”
“I caught you off guard, that’s all.”
She brought her hands down. Opened her eyes to his gaze. He looked so concerned. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ve botched up everything.”
“You haven’t. Come back. We’ll have coffee.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
How could she explain? First, to see him stark naked, then to overreact like a child. She’d screwed up royally. “I have to go.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “Come on back. I’ll put on some pants. You’ll see. Everything will be fine.”
“I’d think you’d be running for your life. With all I’ve done today—”
He laughed. “Hey, at least we got that awkward getting naked stage half over with.”
Her lips curled up despite herself. “You’re joking. Standing in the hallway butt naked, and you’re trying to put me at ease.”
“Everyone on this floor has seen an ass before, I assure you.”
She giggled. “I bet they haven’t seen that ass.”
“I don’t think so. But there was that one New Year’s Eve…”
Her shoulders relaxed, and the heat in her face had cooled considerably. “I really should go. I have to study, and I work tomorrow.”
He looked at her for a moment. “Where?”
“The university library.”
His responding “of course” smile made her wince.
“Okay, you can go. But only because you have to study.”
The elevator arrived with a ding. She looked at the doors as they opened, then turned back to Jay. “Thanks. For a very interesting day.”
He grinned.
“Next time, maybe we should just go to a movie or something.”
His eyes grew serious. “There will be a next time. You do know that, right?”
She nodded. “I promised a week.”
“Good.” He pulled her close and kissed her gently on the lips. Her breasts brushed his chest and she gasped.
“Oh, Amelia. You are one of a kind.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” She stepped into the elevator, but put her hand on the open button. “Goodbye.”
“Study hard.”
She nodded.
He turned and headed for his door. Her gaze went straight down to his butt.
She clamped her mouth shut before she moaned. It was perfect. The most gorgeous rear view in history. Long legs elegantly muscled, firm buttocks perfectly shaped, athletic back and shoulders, soft dark hair falling over the nape of his neck…
She whimpered as she released the elevator button.
His laughter slipped in just before the doors shut.
JAY LEANED BACK in his chair, his feet up on his desk, the keyboard on his lap. He’d just logged on to TrueConfessions.com and was scrolling through the later entries of Good Girl.
It had been two days since he’d seen her. Two days of thinking about her, running the tape in his mind over and over—the one where she sees him and she stares and her eyes get huge and hot, and her lips part ever so slightly, and she takes a step as if she has no control over herself—
He cuts the tape before she runs out of his apartment.
It wasn’t a mistake. It was a learning experience. Now he knew more about Amelia. About the difference between her fantasies and her reality. And he’d make adjustments.
He’d leave soon. She was at the café. Brian had called, and now expected a brake job on his bike. It was a fair trade. Brian said she was wearing jeans but she was back to the cardigan. And her hair was up. Forward three steps, back two.
So it would be different this time. More cerebral. But still, he wasn’t about to let her off the hook. The woman part of her needed attention so badly it scared the hell out of her. He could see it in her eyes, on the page, in the way she touched the back of her neck.
She needed to feel comfortable. To trust him. That’s what he’d focus on. Trust. Different kinds of trust.
He got
to an entry he hadn’t read before. Written yesterday. He put the keyboard down, dragged his feet off the desk and leaned close to the monitor.
He kissed me. It was the best moment. The most fully alive moment. He scares me to death, and draws me to him in a way that’s inescapable. I think of Dracula. The novel, not the movies. That sexual force he had that took all power, all freedom of choice from his victims. An outsider would say they walked into his arms willingly, yearning for his deadly touch. But the helplessness came before the first step. The spell was cast through the air or through the soul or maybe it was just that his need for them was so great, they simply had no choice.
I want to make a choice. I want to see J for who he is, and not who I want him to be. But I don’t know, maybe it’s already too late.
He reads me like a book. He touches the deepest parts of me, and he makes me crazy stupid when I’m near him.
He hasn’t called, but I know he’ll call. It’s only been a day. He’ll call tomorrow.
Jay read it twice. It was a lot to think about. He wondered, of the two of them, who cast the spell. It was nuts, how he’d focused on this one woman. He’d worked, talked on the phone, done some stuff with his portfolio, just like normal life—only it wasn’t.
She was there all the time. Even at his busiest, she hovered on the periphery, never truly out of sight. During the calm, she bloomed in his mind, took over his thoughts, his senses.
The key here was to play it out. It wasn’t her so much as The Plan. The end result. He had to see her when she let it all go. All the inhibitions, all the rules and regulations. It would be like that one step. Like her lips parting.
He scrolled down. Another entry, made the same day.
I dreamed I kept walking. He was naked, and I kept walking, and it was the embodiment of my most secret desires. How did that happen? I didn’t realize until I read it again, but what occurred at J’s apartment was almost exactly what I’d written a year ago. Before I’d met him.
It’s scary. And wonderful. It makes me want to see what comes next. I wonder if I should call. I don’t know. I’ve had so little experience with men. I don’t mind so much, except that it undermines my confidence, which is shaky to begin with. My time with J didn’t bolster me much. Well, part of it did. The part where he looked at me as if he wanted to climb inside me. And the kiss.
