Say You'll Never Love Me (25 page)

He walked to stand behind her and switched the flashlight off. Her knees weakened.

Then he laid the mag aside, placed his hands on her waist, and leaned into her hair. “I do some of my best work in the dark.”

She drew a shallow breath. “I bet you do.” She wanted some of those skills. And that was wrong. So wrong. She should step away. Send him home. But instead, she leaned against his chest.

He slid his hands to her stomach and pulled her tighter against him. “Want me to show you?” Slipping fingers under her silky pajama top, he stroked bare skin.

Every cell screamed
yes, show me everything.
She blew out a heavy sigh, but words wouldn’t come. Her brain said no, but her body told her to keep her mouth shut and let the man do his job.

“I take your silence as a yes.” He planted a kiss below her ear.

She squeezed her legs together as heat spread between her thighs.

He dragged his lips down the side of her throat and sucked soft flesh into his hot mouth. She lolled her head over to give him better access. Then he moved to the crook of her neck. “God, you smell good.”

His warms hands explored higher and cupped her breasts. She tingled everywhere. Her nipples hardened into tight beads.

“You like that?”

Did he have to ask? It was obvious she did, but apparently he wanted verbal confirmation. “Yes.”

The hard length of his erection pressed into her butt and lust pooled low, then lower. Her breasts were hot and heavy in his hands. He rolled both nipples between his fingers and thumbs, and she moaned her pleasure.

She couldn’t do this. He’d hate her and she couldn’t live with that. The thought of hurting him was too much. “Jared.”

He spun her around to face him. “Don’t talk. Don’t think.”

The orders landed in her brain like a grenade, a hundred thoughts exploded at once. He covered her mouth with his lips. Hot. Demanding. That’s all it took. Whatever he wanted, he could have. She licked the tip of his slick tongue.

He boosted her onto the desk. Wedged between her thighs. Cradled her face. Dragged her mouth back to his. This time the kiss so slow and sweet, she melted against him. Over and over again deep, intimate kisses yanked her heart and stole air from her lungs. If he kissed her a thousand times, it wouldn’t be enough.

He broke the connection, lifted her top. “When I got here tonight, and you weren’t wearing a bra, I decided I was going look under this blue silk before I left.” He rubbed the fabric, then trailed fingers down the swell of her breasts. “God, you’re beautiful.”

This was different. Like nothing she’d ever experienced. His tone and soft caress. Every touch and whisper soaked deep into her soul. She raised her arms. He pulled the camisole over her head, cupped her breast and drew it into his wet mouth. The ache between her legs intensified. She moved her fingers to the button on his jeans and undid them. He straightened and pressed his mouth to hers again.

She lowered his zipper.

Then he ended the kiss but kept his face close to hers. “I’ve got to tell you something.”

“Can’t it wait? You know, until after we’re done.” Each word came out on a ragged breath.

“No. I really should . . .”

The power came on casting the room in bright light. She jerked her hands back as if shocked, knocking the flashlight to the floor. He stared down for a moment, then looked into her eyes, his expression cold. Suddenly, he stepped away and zipped his pants. “This was a mistake.”

Raynie blinked, then blinked again as the door closed behind him. What the hell?

Lust is the cause of generation.

~Leonardo Da Vinci

WHEN THE POWER
came on, and Jared saw the calendar with a red heart drawn around Rico’s name, that told the story. Raynie would never change. Good time sex was all she’d ever want with the closest guy available. Rico in Austin. Jared in Lubbock.

What a fool. He’d misread everything. Thought Raynie put Silbie up to the phone call, then when he arrived and saw her in the thin, skimpy pajamas, he was sure she’d lured him over there to seduce him. Further proof—the way she stared at him. He’d been with enough women to recognize desire. His fault. Shouldn’t blame her. She’d been up front from the beginning, but with the cooking and carpooling, he’d assumed—what? That she changed her taste in men?

Yeah, he had, and it’d been a mistake. Should have stuck to his plan. But the decision to leave her alone evaporated the second he had an excuse to see her. Well, now, it was back to the original idea. Fifteen more days and he could chalk her up to a learning experience. End of story.

RAYNIE DIDN’T KNOW
how long she sat there, heart racing, brain spinning, but it must have been a good ten minutes. What happened? The question played over and over in her head. One second he was kissing her like he couldn’t get enough and the next walking out. It was if when the lights came on it flipped his switch, too.

Oh, my God. That was it. The flash caused him to come to his senses. Surrounded by darkness, he’d gotten caught up in the moment, but in the bright light, everything became clear. She wasn’t the woman he wanted. Well, that wasn’t true. He definitely wanted her, but he was decent enough not to use her. She couldn’t be mad. He’d done the honorable thing.

She slid off the desk and walked to the edge of the bed and sat. Why couldn’t he have waited a little longer before his morals kicked in? She’d fantasized about sex with the perfect padre for weeks and now knowing he’d thought about her too, made things worse. She could never see him again. Not even to say goodbye. She was too humiliated.

She walked back into the hall, crawled into the tent with Silbie and forced herself to concentrate on other things. But after an hour, she lost focus. There were reading requests, so she traipsed into the living room, opened her laptop and began. Just before dawn, she slumped on the sofa sound asleep.

For the next two days Raynie tried to stop thinking about the almost sex but couldn’t. The memory of his lips and hands kept her up at night.

Today was her last cooking lesson and her heart wasn’t in it. She trudged down the hall, and by time she reached the doorway, Sean knocked. Always punctual, he took two steps inside, then stopped in his tracks. “Damn, girl. You look wretched.”

She tugged at the bottom of her oversized sweat shirt, then puffed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. “Could we skip class today?”

He zipped past her and put the bags on the countertop. “Are you sick?”

She trudged to the kitchen her fuzzy bunny slippers scraping the tile as she went. “No. Just not in the mood.”

He lowered his head and eyed her. “Gotcha period?”

She frowned. “No.”

“Well, you’re not sick. No monthly curse. So that only leaves one thing. Man trouble.”

Days of holding hurt inside burst loose and tears flooded. She jabbered as she paced. “I’m no good for him. He’s perfect. Gorgeous. Kind. Thoughtful.” She waved her hands in the air. “And then he was here during the storm and there’s been an attraction between us.” She added head movements to the performance. “We tried to ignore it, at least I did, but he kissed me and things went too far and I thought something really wonderful was about to happen, but then the lights came on, and he didn’t say a word. Just walked out and now I can’t see him ever again because he’s a minister and I’m his temptress. Seductress. Jezebel.”

She stopped moving and buried her face in her hands. “In thirteen days, I’m leaving and I really want to make things right with him before I go, but you understand why I can’t, right? I mean I’ve never had a man leave at the. . . . you know, where we were about to . . . you know. I mean we weren’t naked. . . . why am I even telling you all this?” She plopped onto a barstool and laid her head down and cried into the granite.

“Girl, you are a mess. You know what you need?”

She looked up at him. “Yeah, and I thought I was gonna get it, but that didn’t work out.”

“There’s that, but I was thinking a night out on the town. Tell you what. Get a sitter and Marc and I will take you dancing.”

“That won’t help.”

“Sure it will. Did I mention you can get wasted? Drown your sorrows.”

“I don’t know.”

“No argument. I’ll pick you up at seven and I expect you to look sexy. Understand?”

She heaved a deep breath. “Okay.”

Raynie couldn’t remember ever being less excited. Sure there’d be guys looking for a hookup, but for the first time in years, that didn’t appeal to her. There was only one man she wanted, and the feeling wasn’t mutual.

When she closed her eyes she could almost feel his hands sliding over her skin. Hot, wet lips crushing her mouth as if it were manna for a starving man. She smiled. Good one, Raynie. A religious reference for the padre. She pushed the nonsense from her head, stared into the mirror and added blush to her cheeks. Next, she rubbed her lips together to spread frosted pink passion, and decided she’d done the best she could.

The white spaghetti strap camisole wasn’t racy, especially since she’d layered a jacket over it. But tonight, she didn’t feel sexy. More like sad.

At seven-thirty, Sean guided her to a corner table at Delilah’s. He’d explained it was his partner’s old haunt from college. A ballroom dancer, Marc still frequented the place. Said it helped him keep his moves fresh. According to Sean, women practically stood in line to dance with the guy.

Raynie felt out of place in a crowd made up of mostly college students. Usually, she could party with the best of them, but not tonight. Her foul mood put a damper on the lively atmosphere. However, Sean was determined to cheer her up, so she’d pretend to have a good time.

She scooted into the booth. “I thought you said your boyfriend was meeting us here.”

Sean fiddled with his phone. “He’s running late.”

“So, how long y’all been together?”

“About a year. I’ll get us a drink. What do you want?”

No need to waste time in getting wasted. “Double slug of tequila.”

He raised his brows. “Be right back.”

After a couple of shots on an empty stomach, she’d be in a dancing mood by the time Mr. Ballroom arrived. Besides, this was the most night life she’d had, except for the sunset with Jared and the drink date with Jared and the storm incident with Jared. Jared, Jared, Jared. No wonder she was so hung up on him.

Sean returned, set the glasses in front of her. She toasted the air, then knocked them back within thirty seconds and felt the burn. If that didn’t scald the memories of the Reverend Father away, nothing would.

“We won’t wait for Marc to start the party.” Sean pulled her from her seat. “Let’s go.”

As they danced, she watched the mating games playing out in the room and got even more depressed. A glimpse into the future of her sitting stoop-shouldered, surrounded by cats, watching Wheel of Fortune caused her stomach to knot. She needed another drink.

After her fourth tequila, her mood lifted, and she had a nice buzz going. Back in the booth, Sean looked over her shoulder and smiled. When he waved, she turned, too. She’d pictured him with a handsome partner, but this Greek god exceeded her expectations. Then her vision traveled past him to the man following. Her heart jumped into her throat.

She snapped her attention back to her date. “What have you done?”

Before he could answer, the men made it to the table, and Jared’s reaction mirrored hers. This was a setup, and she wasn’t about to let him think she was responsible. “You all know each other?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I didn’t arrange this.”

Jared cut his eyes to Marc. “You knew she’d be here?”

“Guilty.” Then Marc focused on Sean. “Let’s go to the bar and let these two have a minute.”

Sean rose and Raynie did too. Her head spun, but she couldn’t stay here. How could he do this to her? He knew how embarrassed she was. Heat crawled up her neck and spread to her face. She spoke to Jared without looking at him. “I should go.”

He clasped her wrist. “Stay. I’ll leave.”

She pulled her arm free. Not because she didn’t want him touching her, but because she remembered how his hot hand had slid under her pajama top, and shivers rippled across her flesh. She looked into his face bathed in warm red from the neon beer signs lining the wall. The color settled on his broad shoulders, covered in a starched plaid shirt tucked into jeans.