Read One More Kiss (Affair Without End Book 2) Online

Authors: Susan Ward

Tags: #Coming of Age, #New Adult & College, #Contemporary

One More Kiss (Affair Without End Book 2) (3 page)

BOOK: One More Kiss (Affair Without End Book 2)
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“I’m in California for four days. I’ll be there tomorrow,” Jack insists hotly.

Shit, what the fuck is happening?

“You’re the one who insisted upon this arrangement, Walter,” Jack counters vehemently into the phone. “I’ve done everything I can to appease you. Not because you threaten me, but because Lena wouldn’t want this, and this constant battling is the last thing Chrissie needs. Hasn’t she been through enough?”

Oh crap, not this again. Only one thing can turn calm, happy Jack into worried and angry Jack in the blink of an eye:  his father-in-law Walter—or should I say ex-father-in-law since Jack’s wife, Lena, is dead?—and the never ending argument over how to raise Jack’s daughter, Chrissie.

Jack’s palm cups his forehead, his long fingers pressing in on his temples. Into the receiver he says, “I would have been there yesterday, but you told me not to come. I let you have your way. I try to work with you. I put Chrissie in boarding school and I let you have her for the summer. It’s the only reason I’m touring. You know that. If Chrissie were home, I’d be home. Don’t lay this one at my feet.”

He has that look: a man all alone in a bubble of brilliance and misery. My eyes fix intensely on his face.
But you’re not alone, Jack. I’m here
. We suddenly feel worlds apart. But then again, we are world apart. God, I hate when I’m reminded of that.

Jack sets down the receiver. A visible shudder passes along the long line of his body. The only outward sign of his tension and inner turmoil. Christ, when is this battle over his daughter going to end with his father-in-law? I thought a cease-fire had been called now that Jack capitulated and put Chrissie in boarding school like Walter wanted. Clearly, things are heating up here all over again. I wonder what’s happened, this time, with Chrissie to tip the balance.

My heart clenches as I watch Jack. He is sitting with his head tilted back, head against the cushions; the peaceful soul is at war with the tortured one.

It’s a tough situation all around. I can understand Walter worrying over his granddaughter’s life now that his own daughter is dead. On some level, I respect Walter’s worry over Chrissie since my own dad never gave a shit about me. But crap, a blind man should be able to see that Jack adores his daughter and would always do the best for her.

I cross the room and sink down in the space between his legs. He doesn’t look at me. I run my hands up Jack’s thighs. His muscles are rock-hard with tension beneath my touch. He doesn’t need this shit. Not before he has to perform. I debate with myself whether to make a joke, do something silly-seductive to get him back into bed, or to ask what’s wrong, and then decide I’ve got to ask. To ignore his distress would be insensitive.

“Is Walter still being a pain and is your daughter still having problems?” I asked tentatively.

Jack’s eyes flash. “Chrissie doesn’t have any problems. Walter just sees what he wants to see. But she’s exactly as she’s always been. She’s just different. She’s a genius. I mean literally. Tested off the charts. Hell, she can pick up any instrument or piece and just play it. A virtuoso. Serious and smart. It’s more difficult to be an intelligent child. Harder to fit in. Always watching. Always thinking. No one your own age to relate to. Makes her different. But it doesn’t mean there is something wrong with her. There is nothing wrong with Chrissie.”

My cheeks are burning by the time he finishes, though I fight to keep my expression from changing. Problems. Crud, Linda, you couldn’t have phrased that worse. Chrissie is sacred ground for Jack. Why did you have to say something so inflammatory?

“I wasn’t suggesting she had problems, Jack, merely asking if there
were
problems.”

His eyes soften into gentle blue pools. He sighs, a long shudder as if he’s willing the tension from his frame.

“I’m sorry I was harsh with you. I didn’t mean to be.” He looks down at me and smiles. He cups my chin. “I can’t wait for you to meet Chrissie. You’re so alike. You’ll get her, I think. It’s not easy being young and intelligent, is it? You see too clearly the world too soon. The two of you should relate beautifully. You have the same eyes. Sage eyes. I bet you were just like her. Always watching, thinking too much, understanding too much, and struggling to fit in as a little girl.”

My cheeks color more, but I force a laugh. “I’m hardly a genius. And I don’t understand anything most of the time. Boy when you read things wrong, Jack, you read them wrong.”

He gives me a pained expression. “Always a wisecrack. You know what I mean.”

I kiss him lightly on the thigh. I need to quickly change the direction we’re going. He’s serious and tense and I don’t want him to bring up the subject of me meeting Chrissie. When he does that it makes my emotional calm fly out the window and the delusional part of me foolishly hope that someday it will happen.  I smile up at him. “Wait here.”

I spring to my feet, but he keeps hold of my hand. Jack smiles. “Why?”

My eyes round. “Just do it.”

He laughs and lets his fingers slowly slip loose from mine.

I rush into the bedroom and start rummaging through the bags I brought in with me.

“You’re not putting on something sexy are you?” he calls from the living room. “You don’t need to bother. You are sexy in everything.”

I ignore the bag with the cute little black nightie set. I go for the sandwich instead, grabbing with it some napkins and then a small bottle of chilled sparkling water from the fridge. I note the cut limes left inside by the hotel. And there’s ice. I fill a cocktail glass, fixing his non-alcoholic substitute cocktail the way he likes.

I feel a little silly about this as I walk back into the living room. I sink on my knees at the coffee table directly across from him.

I focus on laying out his lunch. “Not very fancy, but I guarantee it’s good. I bet you haven’t eaten today. Now eat.”

The pressure of his eyes on me makes me look up. Jack smiles. “You take such good care of me.”

I shake my head. “Nope, I take care of me. You’re not going to do me any good if you don’t eat.”

He laughs again and sinks onto the carpet in front of his dinner. “I love that you do this. Think of me when we’re not together.” He peeks inside the bread to see what I made him this time. “And you’re definitely a world class sandwich maker. Left over pot roast?”

I nod. “Mom and I had pot roast last night.”

He chews and swallows. “It’s good. So how is Doris?”

“Mom’s great, thanks to you. Really loving her job at your record label and her new place in Encino. I would say Mom is almost happy.”

Jack laughs, shaking his head and pauses just before taking another bit. “Doris is a kick. I like your mom. Does she know about us?”

He takes a bite and sits there chewing and staring at me. On the surface he looks
oh-so
casual about the question, but those eyes of his sharpen. He’s looking for something on my face, a reaction of some kind.

I lift my chin. “Nope. Doris likes to gossip. Wouldn’t be the best thing for her to know about us. And she definitely likes to lecture. I suspect she wouldn’t be pleased to learn we’re involved.”

Jack frowns and reaches for his water. “Why not? What’s not to love about me?”

I laugh and slap him on the knee under the table. “You know what I mean. It has nothing to do with you. She wouldn’t be happy about it because of me. She’d just think you’re another mistake I’m making. Just another part of all the mistakes I’ve made.”

“Then we should take her to dinner and set her straight on a few things.”

I shrug. “Maybe next time. I want to keep you to myself this trip, OK?” I say the last part of that in a purposely sexy, suggestive way, making a slight lift of my eyebrows.

I expect Jack to laugh, but he doesn’t. He sits back eating and watching me for a while.

“Have you talked to your dad?” he asks, after a long pause.

Crap, we’re hitting on all the highlights this trip. Why is he doing this?

“No. And I don’t plan to. He called a few days ago. Left a message. I didn’t call him back. He probably just wants money or something.”

His eyes are sharply probing my face. “You’re going to have to deal with him sometime. Don’t brush him off. He made an effort. It’s your turn now.”

I nod and say, “OK,” but I don’t let my thoughts rise to my expression.

I watch him eat, wondering how he can read so many situations wrong at times. He gets a lot of them wrong. Purposely, or is it something else I haven’t figured out yet?

Made an effort
. My dad placed one call to me in twenty-two years and Jack calls that making an effort. Nope, Jack. You made the effort. You’re the only man in my life to ever make an effort for me.

You are the one who found my father, arranged for me to meet him, and held me emotionally together after I did. I fight not to forcibly shudder as I recall the day I first was face-to-face with Brian Cray, my dead-beat dad since birth.

I smile and nod toward the sandwich. “Good?”

“Better than good. Best sandwich I’ve ever had.”

I scrunch up my nose. “You say that every time I bring you one.”

His smile goes straight to my heart. “Because every time it’s the best one I’ve ever had. You have no idea how happy it makes me when you do these little things.”

“I’m the perfect travel accessory. Home cooking and sex in one phone call,” I quip playfully.

His eyes brighten, but not the way I intended them to. “I hate it when you call yourself that. It’s not a funny joke, Linda. Stop saying it. You’re not a travel accessory.”

My cheeks heat rapidly. “I was only teasing, Jack. Lighten up.”

“I know you better. You like to jab at yourself with your little jokes, but it’s me you cut.”

Crap, he’s angry. We’ve gone off course so easily. Just like in our phone calls of late. Flash fights I have to rapidly cool because the worry in the days between calls, the days I can’t reach him by phone and wait desperately for him to call me wondering if we’re over, would eat me alive.

Something is off between us and I don’t know how it happened. I search for words to diffuse his sudden displeasure with me.

“Well, if you don’t want the sex that leaves just sleep for tonight since you’ve polished off your sandwich,” I mock. “It’s fine by me. Looks like you could use some sleep. You look worn out, Jack.”

“Thank you very little.” He laughs. “Road fatigue and too much other shit going on.” His expression grows heavily serious again. “It would be fine with me you know. If we just slept together once in a while and you let me hold you. Better than fine. Being with you is what matters to me.”

The burn of tears rise behind my lids. Leave it to Jack to say something so trite, and have it be so sweet that it makes my heart instantly overfill. “Whatever you want, Jack, is always fine with me.”

His eyes comb my face in a fast study and he shakes his head once and then sighs. He wipes his lips with a napkin and scrunches it up in the wrapping on the coffee table. His rises to his feet in a slow, lazy movement of long body parts, tosses his mess into the trash, and then holds out his hand to me. I let him guide upward until I’m standing and he folds me against his chest, his cheek resting atop my head.

“I love you, Linda,” his whispers, burying his lips in my hair.

“I love you too, Jack.”

He sighs heavily. “I wish we didn’t have to go out tonight. I don’t get enough alone time with you, as it is.” He eases enough back so I can see him. He smiles. Happy Jack again. He looks past me at the clock on the end table. “Let’s jump into the shower. The car is going to be here for us in about an hour,” Jacks says, dropping a kiss on my nose.

He steps out of my arms and pulls me with him toward the bathroom.

 

CHAPTER THREE

I stand beneath the dual streams of the shower, tilting my head so the water hits my neck. It’s a nice shower. I’ll give that to the Hyatt, their high end suites have nice showers; large, tiled, and dual stream. I have been in a lot of hotel rooms. A lot of hotel showers. I’ve been in this hotel more times than I can count. The West Hollywood Hyatt, the rocker Hyatt.

I cut short
that
train of thought and look over at Jack. We’re actually going to just take a shower. I feel the heaviness of his mood here with us, within the tile and steam. Is it is daughter? Or is it me?

A sharp prick of uncertainty is followed by an unpleasant chill of worry. I’ve fretted on and off for weeks if all the tension and arguments meant we are on our way to being over. We’ve lasted eight months. I never expected it to last this long. A girl like me doesn’t get to keep a man like Jack. I just wish inevitable would slow the fuck down.

I step under his stream of water and take the soap from his hand.

“You have to use the soap, not just stare at it, if it’s going to do you any good,” I say, a little flirty, with my features carefully arranged in a suggestive expression.

I start to lather his shoulders and arms, and he starts to relax beneath my touch, and he looks like a man savoring the tending of my hands. I move down his chest, adding little kisses to the soapy surface. I run my tongue with my hands toward his navel, swirling there before plunging it inside.  Even as I lower before him I don’t take my eyes of his. Very deliberately I wash and kiss across his pelvis, missing that part of him hardening and twitching as I bypass it. Down the firm line of his thighs. Up the inside. First with soapy hands. Then I run my tongue to the base of his cock, but I lift and let my hands rest on his sides as I lay my cheek against his lower abdomen.

I nuzzle my cheek against him and his fingers move in my hair, lightly stroking me, asking for nothing, and tender. There are times we are so gentle and giving with each other—even in these moments of sexual rising—that I feel like my insides have been sucked out and into him.

“I love the feel of your touch,” he whispers, and I grasp him lightly, in a feather glide, teasing the hard length of him with my fingers. His eyes close and I place my lips around him.

“I want to make love to you,” he says through ragged breathes. I suck harder. He groans. Then I tease the tip with my tongue and swallow him fully.

BOOK: One More Kiss (Affair Without End Book 2)
2.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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