Usually it took her a long time to climax. She’d feel it coming from a long way away and would coax herself to it. Now it shot like a lightning bolt through her, her body taking over completely.
“Yeah,” Jacko muttered, mounting her. He held her open with two fingers and slid deeply inside her, then stilled.
Amazingly, Lauren was still coming, clenching over and over again around him as he held still for her. He was kissing her deeply and every sense she had was infused with Jacko. With the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him. All dark and delicious and so exciting she could barely breathe.
“Need to get deeper,” he whispered into her mouth and she arched her back and opened wider for him, and just as the spasms started dying down he held her head still for his kiss and started moving inside her, hard and fast.
* * *
Lauren wanted to open her eyes but, whoa. Way too much of an effort. She felt really really good exactly where she was.
Where was that?
Wherever it was, it was a great place to be. She was lying on something hard and warm. And that smelled really good. And felt even better.
Jacko.
God.
With a huge effort, Lauren didn’t tighten her arms around him, though she wanted to. Her head was cradled against his shoulder, one arm stretched across his massive chest, the other along a huge biceps. The temptation to snuggle, to get as close to him as humanly possible, was almost irresistible because right now? In his arms? Nothing could touch her.
For the first time in two years, she felt safe.
This was so dangerous. It was a completely false sense of safety, like those kids who couldn’t feel pain and got burned all the time. Safety didn’t exist, would never exist for her. Safety, just staying in Jacko’s arms forever, was like some kind of seductive drug. One that was bad for her, one that—like all drugs—could cost her her life.
He was deeply asleep, the kind of body language that couldn’t be faked. Well, he’d earned it. A full blush bloomed all over at the memory of all the things they’d done. By rights she should be in a semicoma too, but the twin demons of fear and anxiety were waking up in her, stretching their arms, looking around with interest, noticing her new love, faces stretched in evil smiles because they knew it would all be snatched from her very soon.
Like, now.
Because a monster was after her and he would never stop. As long as he was alive, she would never be safe. No one around her would be safe.
Where a moment ago upon waking she’d felt like every cell in her body had been away for a week at the spa, now she felt cold and shriveled. Alone, in the truest sense of the term. More alone than before, because now she knew what it meant to be truly joined to a man. It felt like her previous sexual experiences had been two people politely uniting genitals, not the earth-shattering sex she’d had all night.
She had no idea what the previous night had meant to Jacko. He’d been a more than willing participant, sure, but from the talk in Suzanne’s husband’s company, he was a highly sexed man. A player. So he’d had fun, that was clear, but it was probably business as usual for him.
Not for her, not by a long shot. She had never felt so close to anyone in her life, and it was more than the fact that he’d been inside her almost all night. She’d felt like she was a part of him, felt his heart beating in his chest the way she felt her own, had breathed to his rhythms, had moved with him as if she could read his mind. She certainly felt as if she could read his body.
His body had given her endless cues as to what pleased him. Which had been more or less everything Lauren had done.
She’d been blown away. It was probably a function of her extreme loneliness, but still. It had been overwhelming and she mourned the loss of it. In all likelihood nothing like this would ever happen to her again.
Actually, nothing like this ever could happen to her, because she’d have to walk away from it, and once was proving painful enough as it was.
She slipped gently out of bed, slowly, so she wouldn’t wake him. There was no way she could steel herself to say goodbye right now; she was way too shaky, way too connected to him. Every move she made reminded her of him. Her whole body was a map of the night.
A little time, a little distance was what she needed. She also needed a shower. How could she smile and wave goodbye forever when she smelled of him?
Her eyes suddenly welled with tears and she shot into the bathroom, leaning against the sink, looking at herself in the mirror, willing the tears back. She had willpower and she could do this. She could. All it took was not thinking of Jacko. Hard, but possible. Barely.
But not right now.
Lauren bowed her head, staring into the white porcelain sink, and tried to walk herself through the next hour. She’d feed Jacko breakfast—that was only polite. And she’d smile and nod at the things he said, though she probably wouldn’t hear anything over the drumming of her heart. She’d see him to the door, promising that they’d meet on Tuesday for the usual lesson at the community center. He’d been coming for as long as she’d known him, even though he didn’t really need her coaching. He had an instinctive talent.
He’d do just fine without her.
A drop fell from her cheek and she stared at it coursing down the white porcelain side of the sink. Another fell, then another.
This was crazy. Angrily wiping her cheeks, she dropped her dressing gown to the tile floor and stepped under the shower. She made it as hot as she could stand because she was going to wash both her Portland life and Jacko off her skin. Portland left easily but Jacko was harder to eliminate. Though he’d been enormously delicate, he’d left signs. Five faint bruises on either hip, where his hands had gripped her hips. A light red spot, like a circular blush, where he’d sucked and bit the skin of her breast.
She’d nearly had an orgasm from that alone.
Oh God.
Even when she closed her eyes, he was still imprinted on her body. The washcloth between her thighs brushed against sensitive skin that was still swollen, still weeping moisture at the memory of him inside her. She swiped the washcloth over herself there and her knees nearly buckled. She was more aroused at the memory of Jacko than she’d ever been with any of her lovers at the moment of penetration.
How wrong could you be? She’d imagined a pleasant sexy night with Jacko, sort of her goodbye to sex for an unknown period. Maybe forever. She’d imagined the night as a sort of farewell treat for her, some good memories to take along with her as she walked into the darkness.
Who knew it would be so overwhelming? It hadn’t been a treat; it had been something that turned her inside out, changed her profoundly. This wasn’t going to be a fond memory she’d keep with her going forward into her new life. It was like a huge boulder blocking her way, rather than a stepping-stone. Jacko was this enormous presence standing astride her life. Too tall, too broad to go around. Simply there, something she’d have to deal with.
But how?
This was crazy. Choosing her new life, where to go, how to make her living once she got there, how to stay not low-profile but no-profile...all these things would take every ounce of energy and ingenuity she had in her. She shouldn’t—couldn’t—spend all this energy dealing with Jacko in her head.
She had to get him out. Get him out of her head, out of her house, get going, without thinking of him at all. It seemed impossible but she had to do this. Simply had to.
The only way to do that was to put all her emotions into a kind of lockbox, seal it away until she was established somewhere else. Then she could pull all these feelings out and try to deal with them. But not now. Being hugely distracted now would be a disaster. Maybe cost her her life.
By the time she dried off, Lauren had herself under control. The control was thin, tenuous, but there. It should see her through today at least. Who knew where she’d be tonight, or tomorrow or the day after that? Wherever it was she landed, she’d deal with Jacko then.
Lauren
dressed and stood for an extra moment in the bathroom, facing the closed bathroom door. She straightened her spine and stared at it for a minute. She could do this. She could.
Pasting a bright smile on her face, she opened the door and walked through.
“Hey.” She made her smile broader when she saw Jacko sitting up in bed. It seemed as if his bare shoulders nearly covered the entire headboard. The headboard that had beat against the wall as he pumped inside her.
Pure heat flashed through her body and her knees felt liquid. Thank God she was already pink from the hot shower, so he wouldn’t notice the sudden rush of blood to her face. She hoped. Jacko always surprised her with the things he noticed.
“Hey back.” His voice seemed to penetrate her diaphragm.
She couldn’t get a read on his expression. None at all. His face was impassive, with a slight upturning of his lips, which could be construed as a smile. Sort of.
Maybe her frantic lectures to herself were delusional. Maybe—maybe he was just waiting to get up and go. She didn’t think he regretted the night of sex. But maybe it was just his usual one-night stand. Maybe he was forgetting the night with every passing second.
That would be good. It was be the best possible situation for them both. She could leave knowing she had a good memory but hadn’t turned her back on a new love. And if that thought hurt, just a little, too bad.
He was looking at her, patient and stolid.
“I, um—” Lauren licked dry lips. She nodded at the bathroom. “Go ahead and have a shower and I’ll fix break—breakfast.” Her voice wobbled. She forced her mouth into a smile. “I imagine you usually have a big breakfast. So I’d better—” She waved a hand awkwardly. “Yeah.”
This was terrible. She turned and shot toward the kitchen. Before Jacko got out of bed naked and she could be reminded all over again of what she was leaving behind. Before she burst into tears.
By the time Jacko got out of the shower, breakfast was on the table. Basically Lauren just emptied most of the fridge. She wasn’t going to take any food with her. So Jacko had a four-egg omelet, fried ham, two whole wheat baguettes, a big slice of cheese and hot oatmeal with brown sugar and raisins.
Her own stomach was closed up tighter than a fist. Even the smells of the food made her nauseated. She was barely keeping down the vanilla tea she’d made. She hadn’t even set a plate for herself.
“Nice spread,” a deep voice said. Lauren gave a start as Jacko sat down. She hadn’t heard a sound. He was not there and then suddenly there. He opened up one of her pretty floral napkins and spread it on his massive thigh. It looked dainty there, and utterly incongruous. “So how come you’re not eating?”
She met his dark eyes, so sober and steady and watchful. What was needed here was a smile but for a second she forgot exactly how you did that. It had been two years since she’d had much to smile about. Various parts of her face weren’t cooperating. She curved her lips upward but knew the smile didn’t touch her eyes.
Lie, she told herself. “I’m—I’m not really hungry. I have a bit of a headache.”
He lost that impassive look and scowled fiercely. “Did I overdo it last night? Is that why you have a headache?”
Lauren’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, of course not! No, I—” Her mind whirred. Words clanked around in her head. She wanted to reassure Jacko but she couldn’t tell him the truth, and it was like a logjam, paralyzing her. Finally, she landed on an old standby, the nuclear bomb of excuses. “I, um, I got my period this morning.” There. Most men recoiled and asked no further questions when you brought up the Great Female Mystery. Plus it would reassure him that not even his sperm could make the leap across latex.
But somehow it didn’t mollify him. He simply took another long look at her, as if he could go in and check her ovaries to see for himself what was happening, then finally settled down to his breakfast. He ate neatly and fast and demolished everything set before him.
Lauren sat and watched, remembering to sip her tea now and again.
She’d never see him again. The thought rolled around and around in her head like some huge, toxic ball bearing, destroying everything in its path. She was incapable of wrapping her head around it. She’d just found him and she was going to have to leave him. Today. This morning.
He was dressed in his tuxedo pants and white dress shirt, no black satin bow tie. He looked tough despite the fancy clothes and as she watched him, Lauren couldn’t figure out how his attractiveness had slipped her notice for so long.
How had she overlooked the sheer male appeal of him? The huge shoulders and arms, the strong neck, the strong, dark features of his face. They all added up to such a sexy package. How had she not noticed? Even the shaved head was sexy. And the tats, hmm. The tribal tats had been a huge surprise and had turned her on enormously.
Tough guys weren’t her usual type but there wasn’t a woman alive with a pulse who could be indifferent. Why had it taken her so long to see that sexiness?
Maybe because he had acted so standoffish when he was around her. It sometimes felt as if he leaned away from her when she was with him. Which was cool. Not every man on earth had to be attracted to her. But even so, even being stiff as a board around her, he had always been ...there. And she’d been attracted; she just hadn’t realized it.
She realized it now. And how.
His huge body seemed to occupy more space than it should, like some high-density planet, and like a high-density planet with a moon, her natural inclination was to lean into him. She had to hold herself stiffly to keep still, because she wanted to lean forward, lay her hand on that massive forearm. For warmth, for reassurance. For sex.
Because, well...she’d be up for sex with Jacko again. Oh yeah.
Who knew sex could be like that? Overwhelming, life-altering. She felt like she’d discovered her body for the very first time. Something that hadn’t existed before Jacko’s touch.
Oh man. Leaving was going to hurt.
What she was feeling must have been putting out vibrations or something because his gaze grew even keener. He was about to say something. Jacko didn’t talk much but what he did say was smart. He was picking up on her distress.
No no no.
She pasted a huge smile on her face, rose, started putting the breakfast dishes away. This was pure habit. She was going to leave the dishes and most of the pretty things she had accumulated behind. No baggage going forward. It was going to be a minimalist existence from now on. Renting a furnished unit and keeping personal belongings to a minimum. So wanting to put the dishes in the sink and wash them was pure muscle memory.
Jacko rose with her, bread and milk pitcher in hand. Oh God, he was domesticated?
“No, no.” She made shooing motions with her hands. He had to leave right now before she burst into tears. “I can do that more quickly on my own. I have some work to do so, um, maybe you’d better get going.” She looked him over. “You’re not going into work in your tux are you?”
“No, ma’am,” his deep voice intoned. So we were back to ma’am? He narrowed his eyes. “What time do you think you’ll be done?”
She blanked. “Done? With what?”
“With work. With what you have to do.”
What she had to do was throw her clothes, computer and artwork in her car, take off and drive as far as her strength would allow. “Um, probably all afternoon.”
“Okay. Do you want to go out for dinner?”
“Um, sure.” Her voice wobbled on the word. She coughed. “Yeah. Sorry, I might be catching something. But sure. Let’s go out for dinner.”
He was searching her face, looking for something. She made her face a happy place, using every ounce of prevarication in her. Happy, happy. Woman who’d just had sex with an interesting new guy. Who wanted to see her again. Happy, happy.
He grunted and picked up his tux jacket.
He was leaving! She wanted him to leave, absolutely. There was a lot to do and many miles to travel today but...h
e was leaving.
She’d never see him again. She wanted this but she wasn’t ready for it. Would probably never be ready for it.
Her smile was blinding. He was leaving and her heart was breaking. Her hand wanted to reach out, touch him, hold on to him, and she had to make a fist to keep from touching him.
She offered her cheek for a kiss but Jacko cupped the back of her head with one big hand and drew her to him. It happened fast but there was nothing in her that would have—could have—resisted his kiss. She stepped forward, into his embrace, and was lost. His mouth was as soft as she remembered. He hadn’t shaved and the heavy beard—now stubble—scratched her skin and she loved it. The first touch of his lips to hers was electric. Far too exciting. She pulled away before she could lose herself in that kiss.
Before she asked him to stay.
Before she changed her mind.
She showed her teeth. That was a smile wasn’t it? And swatted his arm, as if playfully flirting. “Go on now. Get out of here.”
Before I beg you to stay.
Showing him $20,000 of orthodontics worked. He searched her face for another long moment then lifted one side of his mouth. “Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?”
The opposite.
She made a gun of her thumb and forefinger and shot him. “Work. To do. Now scat.”
She accompanied him to the door, with a friendly hand on his shoulder. Actually, she just wanted to touch him one last time. While touching him, the monsters were kept at bay. No fear, no terror. Just hard warm muscle.
She ushered him over the threshold, still touching him. It was so hard to let go. She wanted to touch him forever, but she couldn’t. Her hand dropped. He turned back, dark face serious, dark eyes searching hers.
She turned herself into a bright, shiny mirror, nothing visible underneath. Nothing to see here, folks. Move right along.
“What time?” Jacko said.
“What?”
“What time should I pick you up?”
Her mind whirred uselessly. Pick her up?