Breaking the Rules (11 page)

She took the packet. Small and square, covered with tiny print.

“Why did you buy this when we’d agreed you wouldn’t touch me?”

“Men are hopeful creatures.” His lips curved in a shy smile.

Susana fingered the packet. He knew she was a virgin. He offered her nothing beyond tonight. He planned to take her innocence and disappear over the horizon.

At least you’re honest
.

There were no lies between them. No false promises.

“I don’t know how to put it on.”

He held out his hand and she placed the packet in it. He ripped it open. She caught her breath and held it, biting her lip hard.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

She wasn’t sure of anything at all except that she wanted Joe inside her. Wanted to feel him filling up the empty spaces she’d carried around for so long. Wanted to take that first big step on the road to building her own life.

And if she woke up without her powers, so be it.

He sheathed the impressive length of his erection and tossed the packet aside.

“Let me make sure you’re ready.” His voice was throaty with barely controlled passion. He pushed her gently back until she lay on the bed, skin glowing gold in the reflected candlelight.

Joe crawled over her, on all fours, like a hungry predator ready to claim her. The musky male scent of him filled her nostrils.

She reached up and touched his face with her hand as he brought a probing finger between her legs.

“You’re ready, all right.”

She could feel her own slickness, her muscles throbbing and aching with the urge to have him moving inside her.

He leaned forward to kiss her face, his rough cheek brushing against hers, a hint of the raw maleness ready to fill her.

“I’m glad you finished the reading,” he murmured, his lips hotly moving over her ear. “Forewarned is forearmed.”

She could feel his smile against her cheek as the tip of his penis danced over her sensitive flesh. She heard a little moan escape her lips.

“I won’t betray you,” she whispered. No matter what else, she could promise him that.

“You won’t lie to me?”

“Never.” Her words were almost lost in the heat of his mouth as it claimed hers. He licked her lips, then pulled back just one almost unbearable inch.

She rocked her hips into him, begging him to enter, to bury himself in her.

“Tomorrow you can do a new reading for me and see if my fate has changed.” His low voice barely penetrated the thick fog of arousal clouding her mind. “Will you?”

“Umm…” words danced just outside her consciousness. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow.

But she’d promised not to lie to him.

“I may not be able to,” she breathed.

“Why?” he whispered, his smile pressing against her cheek.

At least you’re honest
.

“Because I may lose my powers along with my virginity.”

“What?” He tugged back, and cool night air assaulted her cheek where his lips had breathed so hotly just a second ago.

She moaned and writhed against him. She didn’t want to think about her powers, or anything else but Joe’s big body moving inside hers.

She groped for words to answer him. “That’s what usually happens.”

Goose bumps rose over her skin as he pulled further away from her. Eyes still closed, she groped the air with her hands, reaching for him.

“Susana, you can’t be serious…” The grave tone of his voice tugged her eyes open. “You can’t… I can’t…”

“Please.” The pleading sound of her own voice echoed the pulsing throb of desperate need still pounding through her body. Twenty-three years of longing, pent up and ready to break free.

“I can’t, Susana. I can’t take that from you. I have nothing to offer you.”

He leaped off the bed and strode to the far wall. She could make out the lines of his body in the dim shadows cast by the single candle.

“I don’t care about my powers. I’ve been a prisoner of them my whole life.” She sat up on the bed. “I want to be free.”

“I can’t do it.” He turned to her. Shadows hid his face. “I can’t take responsibility for you losing your gift. You told me to keep my hands off you. You wanted me to keep my distance, and I didn’t.”

“That was my decision, too.”

“No. I led you to it. You’re aroused. You’re not thinking straight.”

She shook her head, hair flying, confused thoughts tumbling around in her mind. “I want you, Joe.”

“And I want you, too, Susana. But not at such a high cost.”

“But the cost is to me, not you.”

“I know. And you’re young. You’ll live to regret it. And I won’t take the blame, not any more.”

He strode across the room and snatched his jeans off the floor, tugging them on roughly. “You should have told me, Susana.”

“I did tell you.” She swallowed, tears welling up in her throat and under her eyelids. “I did tell you, and I wish I hadn’t.”

“Don’t cry.” His balled up T-shirt gathered in one hand, he sat on the bed.

“Why not?” Her words emerged as a sob. “Why won’t anyone let me make my own decisions about my life?”

“Come here.” He eased toward her on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. Her tears wet the skin of his shoulder as she buried her face in it. “If you really want to…make love, we’ll do it. But I want it to be a decision you make in the cold light of day.”

She looked up at him, vision blurred with tears. A broad thumb stroked the wetness from her cheek.

“If you think about it, truly think about it, and you still want to… Come find me tomorrow evening. I’ll write down the address of my new apartment. If you don’t come, I’ll understand that too.”

She couldn’t find any words to reply so she simply nodded, tears dripping onto her bare breasts, as he rose off the bed, picked up his shoes and left.

As the door closed behind him she swiped at her tears with a shaking hand. She was tired of people telling her what to do. She’d done everything Granna said for twenty-three years. It was time to take charge of her own life.

She climbed off the bed, blew out the candle and propped her elbows on the windowsill. She waited for him to write his note, let himself out of the apartment and descend the stairs.

Then she watched as he emerged from the building, strode diagonally across the street and took off up the sidewalk as if the hounds of hell snapped at his heels.

CHAPTER 7

J
oe opened the massive sliding door to his loft apartment with a huge smile.

“Come in.”

He knew she’d come. She could see it right away. Suddenly Susana felt ashamed that she’d had second thoughts and almost backed out.

He gestured for her to step over the threshold. As she did she heard piano music tinkling in the background. Little notes of fear jingled inside her.

“Wow.” The apartment was stunning. Huge, with high ceilings and gleaming wood floors. A wall of windows looked out over the Hudson River, gray water still visible in the dusk, lights gleaming on the opposite bank.

“I’ve been busy. I rented the place unfurnished.”

She looked around and wanted to laugh. It still looked unfurnished–no rugs on the floor or pictures on the white walls. Just a table, set for two, with two chairs. And the tiny silver stereo system on the floor in a corner of the room.

“There’s a bed, too,” he said softly.

Susana bit her lip.

A delicious aroma drew her attention to the kitchen open to the big living room. Two pots steamed on a huge stove surrounded by pale stone countertops.

“Arroz con pollo.”

“What’s that?”

“Chicken and rice. My dad’s recipe.”

“Smells good.”

Pretty confident of him to start cooking before she showed up. They hadn’t agreed on a time. But she’d known when to come.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Sure.”

“Wine?” Joe gestured at a bottle, already uncorked, sitting on the granite counter.

“Okay.” Just a sip, she promised herself. No sense getting tipsy. She wanted to savor every single minute of this adventure with all her senses fully awake.

She watched as Joe poured red wine into two large wineglasses. He’d combed his hair back neatly from his handsome face, tan cheeks shaved clean. His light blue shirt looked new, the creases from the packaging precise and crisp.

“You look different.”

“I clean up nice, huh?” He smiled and walked toward her with a glass of wine.

She nodded and took the glass from him, then smiled as she surveyed his bottom half. Faded jeans and bare feet.

He shrugged. “I’m still me. At least my top half looks pretty. To good fortune.” He lifted his glass and clinked it against hers.

“Good fortune.” She repeated and took a sip. The fruity liquid tickled her tongue, and she shivered, all on edge with excitement, anticipation and anxiety.

“You look different too.”

She realized his eyes hadn’t left her face until now. She tucked her hair behind her ear as his gaze wandered down over the new outfit she’d bought with so much trepidation that afternoon.

She’d wanted to wear jeans, but she’d tried them on and known she’d feel naked walking down the streets with the intimate curves of her thighs and backside, her crotch, on display to everyone.

She’d bought a dress, with a neckline that revealed her collarbone. The knee-length hem was demure by modern standards but shockingly risqué for Susana. The deep, plum shade flattered her complexion and brought out the color in her lips and cheeks.

“What do you think?” She smoothed the fabric of her skirt, suddenly self-conscious, like a kid playing dress-up.

“Very sophisticated. You look dazzlingly beautiful. But then you always do.” Joe’s dark eyes rested warmly on her face as he took a sip of his wine.

Susana’s face heated at the unfamiliar compliment. She’d heard her share of bloated flattery from drunken clients, but that didn’t mean anything. The only references to her looks from people she knew were entreaties to cover herself up, hide herself from the prying eyes of strangers, unless she wanted to end up like trampy cousin Sonya.

Or like her mother.

She took another sip of the dark liquid.

“You ready to eat?”

“Sure.”

Joe had lit a candle at the table and the flame guttered as Susana lowered herself carefully into her seat. Her skirt slid up to reveal half her bare thighs and she was glad the table hid the bold display. Odd really, when she’d sat before him last night without a stitch on and not even felt shy.

Joe brought over two steaming plates of fragrant chicken and rice with black beans, then settled into the seat in front of her.

“My dad was from Cuba. This was his favorite dish.” Joe’s smiling face shone, so astonishingly different from the haggard, haunted countenance she’d seen in the shop two days ago. Almost unrecognizable.

Could she take credit for the transformation?

Or did all men look like that when they thought they were going to get laid?

She shoved her napkin down into her lap, as if it could smother the flames of heat and embarrassment leaping under her new dress.

She’d promised and now she’d have to deliver
.

“Go ahead, dig in.” He led the way, forking chicken into his smiling mouth.

Susana arranged some chicken on her fork and lifted it cautiously. This was, what—the third meal they’d eaten together? Why did she feel so self-conscious?

The aromatic chicken filled her taste buds with its savory flavors. “This is great.”

“Thanks. I bet you didn’t think I could cook.”

“You’re right.” Embarrassment forgotten, she ate more of the delicious food.

“My dad was a fantastic cook. It’s what he did for a living. My mom too, she came from Italy and had cooking in her blood, she said. Even on their days off they’d spend all day in the kitchen, so I grew up eating well.”

“Lucky you.”

“Yeah,” he nodded thoughtfully. “I was lucky. I had a happy childhood.”

A shadow darted across his features and his eyes dropped to his plate as he gathered another mouthful of food.

“I could see that when you came into the shop ten years ago. You glowed with high spirits.” She hesitated for a second before admitting the truth. “It was very attractive.”

“High spirits, huh?” He shook his head, chuckling. “Naïve dumbass ignorance is probably a better description. I’m all wised up now, though.” He looked away and took a quick swig of his wine.

“What happened, Joe? With your wife.”

He didn’t look up. Her stomach tightened. She would have liked to just enjoy the delicious meal, but suddenly Joe’s past hung between them like a knife, cutting through casual conversation.

“She dumped me. She promised me for better or for worse…” He shook his head. “But I guess she wasn’t up for the worse.”

“You feel a sense of betrayal.”

“Wouldn’t you? Marriage is for life. That’s the whole point of it. I provided for her, took care of her. Hell, I loved her. She was my wife.” He seized his glass and took a swig of wine, avoiding her gaze.

“I’m sorry she hurt you.”

“Me too.”

“The ‘worse’ you mentioned. Does that have anything to do with your scars?”

“Sure does. But trust me, you don’t want to know.” He shoved a forkful of food in his mouth and chewed it.

“Sometimes it helps to talk about what’s troubling you. I can see the past still haunts you.”

“You can, can you?” His eyes met hers, suddenly hard. “I bet you can read all about my sorry existence right in the palm of my hand.” He slammed a hand, palm up, down on the table.

Susana forced herself not to read the lines. Not that they would have told her much anyway. He balled his hand into a fist and withdrew it.

“Why did your grandmother raise you?” His black eyes narrowed as he asked the question. “What happened to your parents?”

An assault—as a form of defense. He didn’t want to talk about his own past so he’d picked up an obviously painful chunk of hers and hurled it at her.

She grasped her wineglass and raised it to her lips. Her hand slipped and the glass clinked against her teeth, making her blink. She put the glass down. Surely after all these years she should be able to talk about this.