Breaking the Silence (8 page)

He looked over at a sleepy Jenny and amended that thought—no major blunders
yet
. The evening wasn’t over.

Jenny stole quick glances at Will’s profile as he drove and her smile grew a little wider. He was so beautiful. They were getting close to her house and her stomach’s resident butterflies, calmed into a stupor by her drink and a half, woke up and fluttered around. Should she ask him in? She didn’t want him to think her slutty but she really, really,
really
wanted to sleep with him. They had been walking together for a week and a half—did that count as nine dates?

She bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t think that she had any condoms at the house and if she did have a few stashed in a corner of some drawer, they would be pretty old. Would he have any? What if she slept with him and then he never called again?

Arrrgh
! Enough!
He might not even want to sleep with her—although if he hadn’t been happy to see her earlier in the evening, that had been a pretty big gun in his pocket.

Jenny’s frantic thoughts still swirled around her brain as Will pulled his car up to the curb in front of her house.

“Oh what the hell,” Jenny muttered and took a deep breath. “Would you like to come in?” she asked, mashing the words together as she rushed to get them out. His face was lit by a nearby streetlight and she saw the muscles bunch in his jaw. Jenny held her breath.

Will gave a short nod, just a single jerk of his head, and got out of the car.

It was happening. The surreal feeling surrounded Will again as he circled the car to open Jenny’s door. He took her hand to help her out, feeling the pulse of heat from the contact, and realized that it had been less than two weeks ago that he had watched her naked hands from his window, safe in anonymity behind the glass. He kept her hand as they walked to the front door and she allowed it, her fingers curled lightly around his. His muscles were ribbed with tension, from his hand all the way to his shoulder, but he tried to keep his grip gentle, fighting the urge to clamp down, lock her to him.

Jenny fumbled with her free hand, pulled her house keys free of her purse and Will took them from her. His hands were probably as unsteady as hers but the rules of dating had somehow lodged themselves in the back of his brain. He wasn’t sure where they had come from—he definitely hadn’t had a sit-down chat with dear ol’ Dad about the right way to treat a girl. In reality, though, they seemed to fit with how he wanted to act, to open doors, pull out chairs, smooth the way for her while staying between her and possible danger.

Who was he kidding—he just wanted to stay between her and anyone else.

The door swung open and Rosie was there to meet them as if they had been gone for years.

“Hey, Rosie-toes,” Jenny crooned, sounding a little relieved as she greeted the furry distraction. Will wondered if she was nervous too, if he had thrown her world into chaos just like she had done to his safe little routine.

“I should take her out—just to the yard,” Jenny said, flicking on the hall light on her way to the closet to grab Rosie’s leash.

“I’ll do it.”

Despite his catapulting nerves, Will managed to remember to help her slide her coat off. He hung it in the closet and grabbed a leash hanging on the back of the door. Rosie scampered up to him.

“Walk-slut,” Jenny muttered to the dog, making Will smile. She made him smile a lot. “You don’t care who’s holding the leash, do you?” Rosie just gave her a panting dog grin and trotted out the front door with Will close behind.

Rosie trotted right over to the tiny patch of snow-covered lawn and squatted. She moved back toward the house but hit the end of the leash and stopped, looking questioningly at Will. He was frozen in place, the cold night having shocked him back to reality, and that reality was that he was completely, totally, utterly out of his depth. He took a deep breath, feeling the frigid air as it dropped into his lungs, and let Rosie tow him back inside.

Jenny was coming down the stairs as he entered. He froze again, leash still in his hand. His daydreams of her as he had jacked off in the shower were nothing compared to the reality—to being so close to her that he could see the texture of her skin, individual strands of hair, the shadow between her breasts. And her smell—like fruit and warmth and
her
. He couldn’t really define the exact scent but he knew it was lodged in a permanent place in his brain. Even if she kicked him out of her house, right at that moment, he would never forget how she smelled.

Jenny hesitated, slowed. She stopped two steps from the bottom. No man had ever looked at her like that. His eyes burned with white-blue heat, so piercing and hot that she was surprised he didn’t leave smoking holes in her skin. She forgot to breathe, every cell of her body focused on him.

Rosie whined and Will glanced down, breaking the burning contact. He unclipped the leash from her collar and shrugged out of his coat, tossing both across a delicate chair. He stalked toward Jenny, who was still immobile on the stair, all her half-made plans of offering coffee or pouring him a drink or even making civilized conversation completely forgotten. It was all she could do just to stand there, clinging to the curve of the banister, watching him get closer and closer.

Jenny was actually taller than him with the boost of two stairs. It was a change from the usual chest-level view she had of him, although he still overwhelmed her with his size. He stopped, so close that she could see each separate eyelash, the edge of his teeth behind his slightly parted lips, the tiny muscle flicking over his temple. He moved his hands to her sides and gripped the fabric of her sweater, fisting his hands against her waist. Jenny could feel the heated pressure of each separate finger through the soft knit and realized that she was more turned on by that than actually having sex with either of her two previous boyfriends.

Will’s eyes locked on the small section of almost-cleavage that her sweater revealed. Her breathing was short and fast, raising and lowering the mounds of her breasts. He lowered his head until his forehead pressed against her breastbone. His fists slowly stretched the neck of her sweater down, uncovering the rounded tops of her breasts and the scalloped edge of her black bra. Will burrowed his face in the revealed skin, pressing between her breasts.

Jenny jumped at the touch of his nose and cheeks, still chilled from the outdoor air. She could feel his long eyelashes brushing against her as he closed his eyes and the hot pants of his breath on her skin. Her nipples tightened from the contrast of cold and heat. The feel of his breath and skin and lashes buzzed at her nerve endings until her entire awareness was focused between her breasts. He hadn’t even kissed her yet, Jenny realized with dazed wonder, and she was already liquid and melting.

He had been imagining this all evening, ever since he saw Jenny and the hint of her cleavage, but he was unprepared by the tidal wave of sensations that overwhelmed him. Her skin, in the hidden depths between her breasts, was warm and damp and so soft. It startled him, how soft it was. Jenny shifted and Will’s hands tightened on her sweater, pressing against her sides to stop her from moving away, but she was just bringing her hands to his head, cradling his skull with her fingers to bring him even closer.

Will felt a hot prickling run through his sinuses and he was horrified that tears were so close he could taste them at the back of his throat. The thought of crying in front of Jenny made him pull his face away from her but he was immediately swamped by a feeling of loss. Desperate to regain their connection, he pressed toward her again, this time higher, brushing against her with his lips and cheeks, nuzzling into the dip above her collarbone.

As he tried to get even closer, Will’s foot bumped the base of the stair. He climbed up, only one step below Jenny now, never pausing in his exploration of her.

God, she felt amazing—better than he could have ever imagined. He brushed against her neck, under her jaw, next to her ear—the smell and taste of her was driving Will crazy. He moved his lips across her cheek, feeling a rush of heat when she turned her head, seeking his mouth with hers. This, his first kiss, he wanted more than anything he could remember.

Their lips touched, barely clung. Will felt the heat of their mouths mingling and then he was kissing her—hard.

Releasing her sweater, he thrust his hands underneath to grasp the bare skin of her waist. Somehow, the momentum of the kiss and the lift of his hands brought them down against the stairs. Their mouths fought to get closer, lips and teeth and tongues crashing together. The rawness of the kiss, as if they were trying to climb into each other through their mouths, sent shocks of desire through him. Jenny pressed her soft curves against his hard edges and he clutched her closer, desperate to ease the almost unbearable wanting, the feeling that he was going to explode from his skin.

Will’s hands pressed upward, moving her skin over each rib until his fingers pressed against the bottom edge of her bra. She arched her hips upward, pressing against his erection, and he sucked in a breath, not sure if he could stand the pleasure. With a moan that almost made Will come right then, Jenny clamped her thighs against his hips and hooked her ankles together behind his back, opening herself wide.

At the back of his mind, this all-encompassing lust terrified him. Who was this wild, rutting beast who had taken over his body? In all his daydreams, Will had never felt anything close to this overwhelming need to be inside her. This was more than desire or lust or hormones—this was survival, necessary for him to continue living.

He tucked his knees against the crease of a step for leverage to push himself off her, just enough to shove Jenny’s sweater up. She released his head to raise her arms and he pulled his mouth from hers long enough to yank the sweater over her head. Jenny wrapped her arms around Will—one across his shoulders and the other pressing his head to her. Their lips connected again with bruising pressure, their tongues mating.

As Will tried to press closer to her, his knee slipped back and caught the edge of a step. The pain cleared his lust-fogged mind enough to realize that Jenny was lying on the stairs with his weight pushing her into the edges of the steps. She wasn’t complaining but it had to be hurting her. Will shook his head to clear it, which only partially worked, and stood up, bringing Jenny with him. Her legs were still wound around his waist and her arms locked around his neck as he held her easily.

“Bedroom?” he gritted out.

Jenny buried her face in his neck, panting. “Up,” she said. Her legs tightened around him, rubbing herself against his ribbed stomach. “That voice of yours is enough to make me come,” Jenny half laughed, half groaned against his shoulder.

“Fuck.” Will almost ran up the rest of the stairs.

“Please.”

He gave a choked laugh and shouldered his way through the first doorway he came to. He didn’t care if it was her room or not—if it had a bed, it would do. Actually, a bed was optional—any horizontal surface would have been fine.

There was a bed, thank God, and from Will’s blurred impression of the room, he was fairly sure that he had managed to find her bedroom. He strode forward without slowing, hitting the bed at his knees and toppling them both onto the soft surface. Will released her before they hit the mattress and caught himself on his hands so that his weight wouldn’t crush her. Jenny clung to him like a tick, her breasts mashed against his chest. It felt as though her hard nipples were burning holes through his shirt and into his skin.

Frantic with need, Will took her mouth again, thrusting his tongue inside before slipping back out to tug her bottom lip with his teeth. Jenny moaned and sought his tongue with hers, luring it back into the humid depths of her mouth. He didn’t know where it was coming from, what was driving his actions, how he knew where to kiss and touch. With desire crashing into him, there was no time, no chance to analyze or evaluate his movements. Will just did what he wanted, what his mouth and body and cock demanded.

His lower body was flattening hers against the bed but he wasn’t satisfied with the contact. Will shifted his hips, pressing upward toward the joining of her thighs. Wrapping her legs around him had bunched Jenny’s skirt around her hips. The hard bulge of Will’s cock, still enclosed in too many clothes, rubbed against the narrow crotch of her black thong, slipping against the wet fabric, pressing it to her folds.

Will’s breathing quickened. He could feel the dampness and heat of her excitement. The proof of Jenny’s arousal, the reality that she wanted this, wanted
him
, made his erection throb. He felt that if he got any harder, he would burst out of his skin.

Balancing his weight on one arm, Will reached between their bodies to grasp the edge of his shirt. Jenny moaned and tried to tighten her arms, pull herself against him, but Will resisted, yanking at his shirt.

Buttons popped and fabric tore but the shirt clung stubbornly together. She must have finally realized his intent, since Jenny released his shoulders to help reveal his skin. Her back dropped against the quilt that covered the bed. She fumbled for the remaining buttons, tugging at the fabric, her fingers scrambling to expose his chest. The last button popped free and Will’s shirt hung open. Jenny pushed the edges back, tugging it down his arms. The shirt refused to cooperate, stretching taut and unmoving across his bulging triceps. She growled, yanking at the fabric.

Frustrated, Will dug his knees into the mattress and sat up. The movement rocked his erection against her pussy—hard. Jenny mewled, moving restlessly against the bed.

Clenching his teeth at the sound, Will stripped the shirt off his arms and unbuttoned his pants. For a moment, he hesitated—he couldn’t get his pants down without unwrapping Jenny’s legs from around his waist and he didn’t want to break the contact of their groins for even a second. He was deathly afraid that any pause in the action, any time that allowed Jenny to think, to reconsider, would make her decide not to go through with it. Will wanted to be considerate, to be a gentleman, to let her decide with a clear mind if she really wanted to do this—but he wanted to fuck her more.

During Will’s moment of indecision, Jenny untangled her legs from his hips and scrambled to her knees, facing him. She had his pants and boxer briefs shoved down his thighs before he realized what had happened. They both paused, staring at each other in the soft light that leaked in from the hall, chests heaving in equal time—and then Jenny touched his chest with both palms.

She slid her hands downward, her touch electric as she smoothed over the dampness of his skin, pausing at the eager points of his small nipples. Moving her palms down across those brown nubs, Jenny scissored her fingers, trapping the nipples between them and squeezing gently. Will’s stomach jerked and his eyes flinched closed, as if she had slapped him.

Releasing him, she curved her fingers and lightly scraped him with her short nails as she moved her hands farther downward to his stomach. Jenny bent her head and pressed a kiss to Will’s bellybutton, slipping her tongue inside. Her chin grazed the leaking head of his cock and her hair brushed against the tops of his thighs.