The Escape Collection: (The Escape Collection) (64 page)

When I closed my eyes, my knees started to quiver and a low moan escaped my lips. The gentle pressure of Jason's thumb was replaced by his mouth, and he alternated between kisses and nibbles down to the swell of my breast. The sensation he caused sent an electrical storm raging through my body. I moaned, louder this time, and arched my head away to give him better access. One hand found the small of my back and pulled me so I was pressed up tight against him. The rough denim of his jeans felt foreign against my skin. The heat between my legs continued to build and I refused to think about anything besides the sensations overtaking my body.

His other hand wound through my hair and tugged my head further to one side. His mouth continued its work across my breasts and up the other side of my neck. He moved so slowly and with such precision, I thought I would scream from the pleasure and urgency building within me. I let my own hands grip his back through his t-shirt to keep myself from falling to my knees.
 

Just when I thought I wouldn’t be able to take one more second of his teasing kisses on my skin, he switched from nibbling to a gentle sucking with subtle but determined pressure. It reminded me of being a teenager, and I almost giggled before a sharp pain so exquisite it nearly made me climax on the spot stopped me.
 

I opened my eyes and pulled back a little. “You bit me.”

“You loved it,” he said, and flashed me a wicked smile.
 

I returned his smile and reached for him. I found his mouth with my own and kissed him with a fervor I didn’t know I possessed. My hands grasped at his clothes until they pulled his t-shirt free. Breaking our kiss, I pulled it over his head and revealed his stomach. From the first moment I'd seen him take his shirt off, I’d wanted to run my hands down his body. I spread both hands wide and placed each palm flat on his chest. Working my way down, I took my time feeling every ripple of hard muscle until I was stopped by the waistband of his jeans. My fingers found the belt buckle, and paused for a second before sliding the leather through.
 

My hands took on a life of their own as I tugged at the button and slowly undid the zipper. It was Jason’s turn to let out a low moan when I tugged his jeans and boxers down in one move, releasing him.
 

“Enough,” he said, and took my hands, pulling me against him again. Despite myself, I gasped when I felt him press against me. Wanting me. Needing me. “From the moment I met you, I—”

“No more talking,” I said, and pressed my mouth against his, silencing him.
 

Without breaking our connection, Jason moved us back towards the bed and lowered us to the mattress.
 

This, I thought as we came together, this is who I am.

***

“Becca?”

“Umm?”

I was nestled in the crook of Jason’s arm, enjoying the heat of him, the total relaxation of my own body. His other arm was wrapped around me, lazily stroking my hair.

“You’re okay?”

“Umm hmm.” I nodded gently, barely moving my head. I was better than okay. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so physically satisfied. So spent, yet totally rejuvenated.

“I’m glad,” he said. “But I can’t be your solution.”
 

“Uh, huh,” I murmured. “I know.” My eyes were closed, my body relaxed, heavy and detached. The muted light gave me the feeling of being underwater. Like I was floating in a dream.

“No,” he said. “Really, Becca.”

“Umm hmm.” His touch felt blissful in my hair. I willed him to shut up and never stop moving his hand.

“Are you listening?” His fingers paused in their delicate dance.

Sighing, I propped myself up and let the sheet fall away. “Yes. I’m listening. What would you like me to say? Can’t I just enjoy this?”

“Yes, of course.” He pushed himself up so we were facing each other. “I want you to enjoy it. God knows I did.” He smiled and reached for me.
 

His touch on my bare arm made my pulse race again. “Then you need to be quiet and let me enjoy it.” I relaxed into him and let myself sink back into the pillow.

“I don’t know exactly what’s going on with you,” he said. He ran his fingers up and down my arm, relighting the fire within me. “But I do know that it wouldn’t be fair to you if I didn’t say what I need to say.”

My body tensed, the fire inside dying. He needed to stop talking.
 

“Becca, I—”

“Please don’t.” I pushed his hand away, his touch suddenly irritating me. I sat up, and said, “Just. Stop. Talking. Jason. I don’t really care what you need to say.”

“It’s just that I feel like we shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?”
 

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy we did. Lord knows I wanted to.” His small smile made my stomach flip despite the growing annoyance with the conversation. “But I can’t be the solution to your problems. I’m sorry, Becca.”

“You’re sorry?”
 

“That didn’t come out right.”

“Then by all means, try again.” I glared at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“All I’m saying is, I’m sorry if I made things worse for you. You probably don’t need any more complications right now.”
 

I looked away when he smiled. I refused to be affected by him.

“I’m a big girl,” I said. “I’m sure I can decide what complications I can and cannot handle.”

“Don’t get mad.”

All at once I became aware of my nakedness and tried to pull the sheet up to cover myself, but Jason grabbed my hand.
 

“You’re lying here, in my bed, after we...after we did what we just did, and you’re telling me we shouldn’t have just done it. How can I not get mad?”

“I can’t help it. It’s the classes I’m taking. They get me thinking. I analyze everyone.” He pulled me closer and used his free hand to cup my cheek. “It’s annoying, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said. “It is extremely annoying.” Despite myself, I closed my eyes when his hand moved and his thumb began stroking the sensitive skin behind my ear.
 

“Can I just say one more thing?” Jason asked. The hand he had on my arm began massaging the bare skin, working its way up. The combined effect was almost hypnotic. “Then I promise, no more talking.” He brought his lips to my neck, leaving a trail of kisses.

I sighed in agreement. How could I not?

“All I wanted to say is that right now you’re exhibiting classic signs of—”

“Enough.” I cut him off, the spell broken. I slid out from under his hands and off the bed. I yanked the sheet from him and wrapped it around my nakedness. “I can’t sit here and listen to this. I can’t remember the last time I felt so...well... that I felt so damn good.”

“Becca.”
 

“No,” I yelled. My voice filled the small room, but I didn't care. Anger boiled through me; it needed to get out. “Don’t ruin this. Don’t you get it? I don’t need to analyze this; I just need to feel it. I just need to feel, Jason. I don’t want to know why I’m doing what I’m doing, or why it’s probably wrong. At this moment, I don’t care, because I finally feel good.” I tightened the sheet and started to leave but spun around again. “And for the record. You’re not a psychologist. You’re only a student. So you can save your psychobabble for the classroom.” With that, I turned, and stormed from the room before he could say another word.

The night air was a relief on my hot skin, and my mood. I sat in my rocking chair and took deep breaths of the sharp air. Despite the chill, it felt warmer than the last few nights. Probably a sign that the season was moving deeper into summer.
 

I heard the screen door open and shut softly behind me. Then, footsteps. “Becca?”

“He wants to leave me.” I didn’t turn around but continued rocking and staring out into the dark night.

“Your husband? He told you that?” Jason moved in front of me, blocking my view of nothingness.

“Not in so many words,” I said. “I didn’t give him a chance. I didn’t want to hear it.”

“That’s why you’re here?”
 

“No.” I looked at him then, bringing my eyes into focus on his bare chest that I’d so recently run my hands down. To keep myself from reaching out, I wrapped the sheet around me and clenched the rocker with my free hand. “I mean, yes. I guess so.”
 

“You don’t sound so sure,” he said. He crouched down, so we were at eye level. “Which is it?”

“Both, I guess. I feel real here. At home, with all the other shitty stuff going on, well… I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“Talk to me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn’t need a repeat of his psychoanalysis.

“I promise,” he said, and held his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll do my best to stop with the whole…what did you call it?”

“Psychobabble.”

“Right,” he said and the smile in his eyes softened me. “Let me listen.”

I sighed, and started talking. “My fourteen-year-old is dating a much older boy, my best friend is gearing up to travel the world and leave me behind, my father is totally losing it and thinks I’m my mother, who’s been dead for more than twenty years, my step-mother should have him committed, but can’t bring herself to do it, my youngest daughter is one sonic tantrum, I’m totally failing as a mom, my husband more or less announced on my birthday that he wants a separation, and to top it all off, I’m not sure if I care.” I exhaled.
 

Jason blinked but didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, he let out a low whistle, and said, “Wow. That’s a lot for anyone.”

“You want to know the worst part?” I rocked the chair hard so I was sitting straight up. “I don’t cry.” I looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction. “Not once. I haven’t cried in years. My whole life is crumbling around me and I haven’t shed one tear. What does that say about me?” I turned back to Jason, challenging him with my eyes.

“Becca, you’ve been through a lot.”

“Shouldn’t I cry?”

“Everyone handles stress differently.”

“It’s like I’m dead inside.”

“It’s a coping mechanism.”

“Did you learn that in class, too?”

He grabbed the rocking chair with both hands, bringing it to a jarring halt. “Becca, stop.”

“I don’t cry, Jason.” I spoke each word slowly and carefully. “What do your books say about that?”

He ignored my question. “Earlier, you said you felt something. That what we did, it made you feel good.”

“Jason.” My voice softened. I wanted to look away, but something in his eyes held me.

“See? You did feel something,” he said. “You’re not dead inside, Becca. You’re lost inside.”

I closed my eyes, breaking his intense stare. I could still feel his hands on my skin; his kisses on my neck; his body moving on top of me, inside me. I opened my eyes and looked directly into his again.
 

“Yes,” I whispered. “You made me feel. I haven’t felt like that, not with Jon, not with anyone…not for a long time. But that was sex.” All at once everything was too much. “Oh my God.” I pushed past him and stood at the edge of the deck, looking out into the darkness. “What does that say about me? What does any of this say about me? I cheated on my husband. Isn’t that something that’s supposed to make you feel terrible? I did an awful thing, but it made me feel good. For the first time in years, I feel like myself again. What does that say about my marriage? My whole life? This is so fucked up.”

“Hey,” Jason said. He put his arm on my shoulder and turned me until I was facing him. “Look at me. Lots of people cheat and have affairs. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

I laughed a bitter laugh. “But it doesn’t make it right.”

“No,” he said. “It doesn’t. But it happens.”

“Not to me.” I shook my head. “I’m not this person. I’m not—”

“Aren’t you? You just said that you finally feel like yourself again.”
 

“This is stupid.” I pushed away from him, stumbling over the bed sheet as I moved. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here talking about what an awful person I may or not be, with the man I just…you should go.”

“You don’t really—”

I looked at him then, really looked at him. His face wore a mixture of pity and concern. Neither of which I wanted. “Go home, Jason.”

For a moment he didn’t speak. Then finally, he took one step towards me and said, “Okay. If you really want me to, I’ll go. But promise me something.”

I nodded. He took another step and stood inches from me. I could feel the heat of his chest through the thin sheet. A shiver ran through me. He placed his palm against my cheek and I leaned into him, drinking in the simple pleasure of his touch. It was too easy to lose myself in him.
 

“I may be only a student,” he said. “But I do know one thing. Even if what happened between us wasn’t the best choice, you felt something. And all that crazy stuff that’s going on with you right now, if you don’t start feeling something, anything, it won’t ever get better.”

“Jason—”

“You need to find you, Becca.”

Chapter 20

The ring of my cell phone jarred me from sleep.
 

I tucked my head under my pillow, willing it to go to voicemail. I snuggled deeper under the covers. It rang again and I cursed myself for not turning it off. Why did the stupid thing have service first thing in the morning anyway?

The ringing stopped and I relaxed into bed, trying to sink back into slumber.
 

I recalled my dream. It was the same one I’d been having the last few nights. I was in the field, just like the woman in the photo. Spinning faster and faster, emotions flashing through me. Every time the dream was different, but this time, the pain I usually felt as I spun was gone, replaced by pleasure. It was euphoric. Only it didn’t last. As I’d continued to spin, the good feelings flew out of me one by one, until all I felt was an overwhelming sense of emptiness.
 

I groaned and flipped over to my back. Sleep eluded me. The dream didn’t disturb me as it usually did in the morning. It felt different. I felt different.