by Jo Leigh
Amelia considered Tabby’s point. It was true, she didn’t have to finish the book tonight. She’d been ready to drop her studies on a dime if Jay had been available. So why shouldn’t she go to a party? She’d already made the decision to be brave, and this seemed like a perfect opportunity to be the new her. If she messed up, it wouldn’t matter. She didn’t know any of the guys at Tri Delta. Besides, if she hated it, she could go home. She turned to Tabby. “All right.”
“Excellent. We’ve got a few hours, so let’s figure out what you’re going to wear.”
Amelia poured herself a soda, and shook her head at her own foolishness. It was a frat party. That’s all. She wasn’t going to meet the president or sing on national TV. So why was her tummy doing flip-flops?
She was a wuss, that’s all. What guy in his right mind would want a wuss for a girlfriend?
Certainly not Jay.
THE MOMENT JAY OPENED his door, he realized his mistake. His father’s face was set, hard, determined. He wasn’t pleased about being here, wasn’t pleased at all.
“Come on in.”
His father walked by him, leaving a trail of cherry pipe tobacco. His Meerschaum stuck out of his jacket pocket, as usual. Jay often wondered why his dad had been so willing to be a cliché. At least, thank God, there were no suede patches on the elbows of his jacket.
“You haven’t changed anything.”
Jay closed the door. “What did you expect? Black lights and lava lamps?”
“So it’s to be like that, is it?”
Jay bit back a sigh. It was always like this. Why would tonight be different? “I’ll get the box.”
Lucas nodded curtly, then went to the bookcase to wait. Jay hurried to his bedroom, anxious to get this over with. He should have made an excuse, left the box outside. Too late now. Hell, too late by about five years.
He walked back into the living room and his gut clenched when he saw the book his father held. Not that. Not again.
“Such talent.” His father looked him in the eye. “Such a waste.”
“That I didn’t write another, or my whole life in general?”
“I think you need to answer that question, Jay. Not me.”
“Yeah. Right. Here are the books. There’s an envelope there that Grandpa wanted you to have. I don’t know what it is. The envelope was sealed.”
“I’ll look at it when I get home. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to your brothers lately?”
“Nope.”
“You could call, you know.”
“I could. So could they.”
His father put the slim novel back where he’d found it. “Is your rebellion so important that it will cost you your life?”
“It stopped being a rebellion a long time ago. This is my life. The one I want to lead.”
His harsh dark eyes narrowed. “Then, I feel sorry for you.”
Jay didn’t let the words get to him. It was an old tune, one he’d heard a million times. Instead, he looked at the man. His father had gotten so much older since the funeral. Grandpa had hoped for a reconciliation before he died between his son and grandson. It didn’t happen. It most likely wouldn’t happen.
His father went to the door, the box tucked under his left arm. Before he walked out, he turned one last time. “You are the most brilliant young man I’ve ever known. You have a gift that is rare and precious. You owe something in return.”
“I don’t owe a goddamn thing.”
“Have it your way.”
“I am.”
His father walked out without shutting the door. Jay heard his footsteps on the carpet. He even heard the elevator scrape open and shut. Too-familiar anger roiled inside, and he wanted to smash his hand through the wall. The man was so pompous. If it wasn’t his way—
Jay stopped. Just put on the brakes. His father was his father was his father. What was anger going to accomplish?
He closed the door, went to the kitchen where he’d started a pot of water for spaghetti. No longer hungry, he turned off the stove and grabbed a beer. Nine-fifteen. Still early.
He went to the phone and dialed Amelia’s number.
HOW COULD ANYONE THINK this was fun? Amelia stood in the corner of the frat house living room, watching the mayhem spread out around her. She couldn’t hear anything over the pounding music, yet it was so crowded, no one danced. There was a great deal of raucous laughter, although she’d yet to hear anything funny.
Ten more minutes, and she’d go home. She promised herself she’d stay till ten, no matter what. All she had to do was keep quiet, stay out of the way, and she could make her getaway.
A girl who looked about sixteen stumbled out of the bathroom. She had no top on. Just a bra. The girl was so drunk, Amelia thought surely she’d pass out any second. Evidently, she hadn’t been alone in the rest room. A large guy wearing a football jersey over jockey shorts followed her drunken path.
Amelia hugged the wall, not wanting to be near either of them when they fell—or got sick, which was actually more likely. She didn’t really have to wait till ten. Nine fifty-two was close enough.
All she needed was to get her jacket from the back bedroom. It wasn’t such a simple task. She had to avoid beer mugs, elbows, something on the floor she didn’t want to think about, and a flying CD jewel case that nearly poked her eye out.
Mere steps away from the bedroom, someone grabbed her arm. It was a big hand, thick. Too strong.
She turned to a red-faced boy. She recognized him but couldn’t remember his name. He’d been at the apartment once, a long time ago. With Kathy? Maybe. He’d been polite, although they’d barely spoken.
“Hey. You’re ah…”
“Leaving.”
He shook his head. “Emily.”
“Amelia. And I am leaving.”
“You can’t leave yet. The party’s just getting started.”
“I’m sure you’ll have a great time. But I have to go.”
“You have to have a beer. This is a kegger. I’ve been watching you. You haven’t even had one.”
“I don’t like beer.”
He looked wounded. “Everybody likes beer.”
“Not me.” She looked pointedly at his hand, still holding tight to her arm. “Would you let go.”
He shook his head. Taller than almost anyone else at the party, he was also built like a tank, and there was no way for her to break his hold. He dragged her into the kitchen. It was packed, and beer had been sloshed everywhere. On clothes, on the floor. The smell was pungent and made her stomach clench.
“Hey, Darren. Give Emily a beer, would ya?”
“It’s Amelia, and I don’t want a beer.”
He ignored her as he downed the contents of his mug in a series of huge gulps. His Adam’s apple bobbed and a dribble of beer leaked down his chin. When he finished, he burped so loudly he drowned out the music, then smiled proudly. “Beer, man. It’s so great. I love beer.”
“I’m glad. Now, please, let me go.”
“Not till you’ve had yours.” He pulled her closer to the keg.
His grip hurt. Every time she pulled back, he held on tighter. She wasn’t amused. In fact, she was getting scared. Maybe if she took the drink, he’d let her go.
“This is Emily,” he said to the guy at the keg. “She needs a beer.”
The boy didn’t even look at her. He just poured a great mugful and shoved it in her direction. The oaf holding her arm took the mug. “Come on, baby. Let’s go to the couch.”
“I have to leave. If you’ll just give me the—”
He didn’t hear her. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t care, because he was pulling her behind him as if she were a pack mule.
Her purse got snagged on the edge of a chair, and she thought her arm would get ripped off while she tried to untangle it. “Would you stop?”
Amazingly, he did. But when she looked up, she knew it wasn’t her plea that had gotten through his thick skull. Jay stood in front of him, blocking his p
ath.
“How—?”
“You’d better let go now, buddy.”
The bruiser weaved a bit, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on Jay.
“I said let her go.”
The party continued without a ripple, but Amelia neither saw nor heard anything but the situation before her. She had no idea how Jay had found her. It couldn’t be a coincidence. And while she was grateful and thrilled to see him, she had a very bad feeling about this. The drunk was just the kind of moron who liked to settle things with his fists, and ask questions later.
“Get lost,” he said. “She’s with me.”
“On the contrary,” Jay said, keeping his voice as low as possible. “She’s not. And you need to let go.”
Instead of releasing her, the guy put the mug down on an end table, then stood up as straight as he could, puffing up his chest. He was taller than Jay by several inches, and outweighed him by who knows how much. But one look at Jay’s eyes made it clear the kid was out of his league.
He pushed Jay, square in the chest. Jay stumbled back a few steps, then came right back in the guy’s face. “I suggest you stop this right now. We don’t want this to get ugly.”
“You’re already making it ugly, just by being here.”
Jay smiled, turned his gaze to her and winked. Two seconds later, her arm was free, the jock was bent double, moaning like a sick cow, and Jay had his hand out to her. She grabbed on to him for dear life, and they made it to the front door, accompanied by the sound of retching.
Once outside, the quiet came as a shock. He held her hand gently as he led her to his bike and handed her a helmet.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “How did you get here?”
“I called your place. Kathy told me where you were.”
“You did?”
He nodded.
“What about your plans?”
“They ended earlier than expected. Now, why don’t we get the hell out of Dodge before Hoss in there decides to reassert his manliness.”
“Good plan.” She put on her helmet, then waited for him to get on the bike.
“You’re going to freeze.”
“My jacket’s inside, and I’m not going back for it.”
He nodded. Looked at the frat house for a few seconds, then turned back to her. “Here—” He took off his leather jacket and put it around her shoulders.
“Now you’ll freeze.”
He shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
“I see.” She put the jacket on properly, his scent mixed with leather more intoxicating than any beer. “So if you’re truly a manly man, cold can’t touch you.”
He grinned. “I’d rather you be warm than me. If that makes me a macho jerk, well, then—”
She smiled back at him. “It makes you very sweet.”
His brow furrowed as he mounted the bike. “Hey. Come on. I have a reputation here.”
“Sorry.” She climbed on behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his flannel shirt. He revved the motor, and took her off into the cold night. She’d never felt safer.
They drove straight to her apartment. When they got off the bike, she looked at him questioningly.
“I thought you might like to get your own jacket.”
“Freezing, are we?”
She could see him flush under the streetlamp. “Yeah.”
Chuckling, she led him inside. The elevator ride was brief, and they didn’t even touch. Not really. Just a brush of his hand against her thigh. She wasn’t even sure there had been contact. But there was no mistaking the heat.
Kathy was home studying, which was quite rare, and only ogled Jay for a few moments. Amelia peeled off his jacket, handed it to him, and got one of Tabby’s from the hall closet.
“What now?” she asked as she donned the blue parka.
“Let’s go.”
Her heart hammering with excitement, Amelia said good-night to Kathy, who smiled as if she wanted them to have left already, and in short order they were back on his bike, heading for adventure.
She could hardly believe it. He’d rescued her with some kind of superhero move, then whisked her away. With every new event, it became more difficult to believe it was happening to her. To say this was outside of her experience was an understatement.
She felt like Cinderella. Like Sleeping Beauty. Like every Disney heroine ever made. And he was Prince Charming.
Of course, she knew he wasn’t really. He was human, like everyone else, and he had flaws. But for right now, she only wanted to see the hero in him.
He’d actually fought for her honor! Wait till she wrote that in her journal. But she was getting ahead of herself. The evening with Jay had just started. It was entirely possible that what had happened at the party would dull in comparison with what lay ahead.
She squeezed his waist and muffled her laugh on his jacket. Maybe what lay ahead was her getting laid. Holy cow.
HIS HAND STILL THROBBED. Not that he would admit it, but damn, that boy had been a hulk. The only reason the oaf had gone down like that was because of where Jay had hit him, not how hard. He’d studied aikido for five years, and he’d used the guy’s position and strength against him.
But man, his hand hurt. He hadn’t been to the dojo in over a year, and it showed.
Screw it. Amelia was safe. With him. And the night was young. He’d take her to his favorite place. They’d talk and laugh, and then he’d see. He wouldn’t press her. He didn’t think he’d need to.
He sped up. Just a few hours. Then heaven.
13
SHE CLOSED HER EYES as they flew down the street. The roar of the motorcycle masked the sounds of the city. Jay blocked the worst of the wind, so she could concentrate on what was really important. How his hips felt nestled between her knees. The scent of leather. The way his stomach muscles reacted to her teasing touch.
If they’d ridden forever, she would have been happy. Blissful. For this moment, everything in her world was perfect. Of course it couldn’t last, but she also didn’t want to let it slip through her fingers.
Jay was her dream man. She’d literally dreamed of him for months. She’d fantasized about him in ways that would make him blush. Oh, if he ever guessed at that…she’d die. It didn’t matter, though, because this was real. This wasn’t words on a computer screen.
She wasn’t going to be Good Girl for long.
At least, she hoped not.
What if tonight was the night? What if he was taking her to his apartment? Thank God she’d shaved her legs. And worn her nicest underwear. They weren’t exactly Victoria’s Secret, but they weren’t old lady panties, either. She’d make sure the light was off. And not just because of her undies.
She was scared to death. Excited, yes, but terrified. That’s what made everything so tough. If only she could be sure she wouldn’t mess things up.
She remembered that night with Kevin, the moment she’d realized he’d fallen asleep. The burning shame. He’d still been inside her. He hadn’t come. She hadn’t even known how to come with a man. The humiliation was as raw today as it had been back then.
But maybe tonight she could form new memories. Wonderful, hot memories.
Her thoughts turned as Jay rounded a corner. Something she’d written about awhile ago. Before she’d even seen Jay. The fantasy had been so sensual, so hedonistic. In it, she’d been completely free of embarrassment. She’d been confident, at ease with her body and his. And she’d let herself do everything, taste everything, experience it all.
He’d licked her body from her toes to her forehead, skipping nothing. He’d savored her scent, the taste of her, her curves, her soft moans. He’d worshiped her, and when he finally entered her body…she’d been acutely aware that none of it was real.
The disappointment had stopped her in her tracks. Not because she couldn’t imagine making love. That part was easy. But in this fantasy, the most intense of her life, she’d been in love and he’d bee
n in love with her.
It still gave her shivers to realize how she’d described Jay to a tee, without ever having laid eyes on him. No, almost to a tee. Her dream man hadn’t been quite as handsome. As erotic. And he hadn’t had Jay’s chest.
They turned another corner and she looked up. She recognized the street. His street. Her pulse sped faster than the bike. This was it.
Show time.
HE LET HER IN the apartment first, glad he’d picked up before his father had come by. Not that the place was a pit, but sometimes he let the papers stack up.
She hadn’t asked him yet what his intentions were. But he could tell from her wide eyes that she suspected. And she was right.
He smiled as the door closed behind him. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be just a few minutes.”
She nodded as she went to the bookcase. Interesting. Most of the women he brought here made the liquor cabinet their first stop.
He slipped away, heading to his bedroom and the storage closet. He didn’t want to forget anything. It was important that she feel relaxed and comfortable. Maybe it was too cold? No. He’d keep her warm.
First, the blanket. It was thick and soft, and it would fight the chill. A couple of pillows, too. He debated taking the comforter, but decided against it. He grabbed his portable CD player and a flashlight. It took longer than he’d hoped to find the right music, but he wasn’t willing to compromise. Easy jazz. Dave Grusin. Antonio Carlos Jobim. He put it all into his army duffel. His gaze caught on the mirror, and his cock jumped, remembering the other day when she’d seen him naked. Dammit. It was too soon to get this hard. The night had just begun. He focused on baseball scores as he headed for the living room.
She had a book in her hands. Open. He peered over her shoulder. Shit, it was his. That wasn’t the discussion he wanted to have tonight.
