“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Then why does it feel like a finality? Like I’ve already reached all the goals I will ever have to aspire to?” She took another sip of her scotch, wincing as the strong liquor touched her throat. “This isn’t the life JT should be stuck with.”
That was something she and I agreed on.
“He’s talented on the football field. He could get a scholarship to a good college.”
She nodded. “If the coach will let him back on the team next year.”
“Maybe if I talk to him…?”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I meant for this to be a sort of thank you. And here I am moaning about my worries.”
“It’s honorable to be so concerned for your brother.”
“Is it?” She studied my face a moment. “I know absolutely nothing about you. Just that you’re an English teacher and you take an unusual interest in your students. I don’t even know your first name.”
“Harrison,” I said immediately.
She smiled. “Harrison. I like it.”
And I liked the way it sounded on her lips.
I moved closer to her, causing her to back up against the sink. It suddenly felt very familiar, but the way she was looking at me was different. There was no fear, no anger, no confusion in her eyes now. There was just naked emotion. Loneliness. Sadness. And there was need. The need was so clear, so outspoken that it was like a shout coming from those beautiful green eyes.
I removed the glass from her hand and set it on the counter, not breaking eye contact as I did. And then I took her face in both my hands and lifted her lips to mine. She opened to me almost immediately, the taste of scotch still burning on her tongue. But there were other, lovely things about her. The taste of vanilla on her tongue, the hint of mint and something sweet deeper in the depths of her mouth. It seemed like every place I touched, every new crevice I found, offered a different taste, a different hint of the secrets she held deep inside.
I only meant to kiss her. She was vulnerable, hurting. Now was not the time to do something she might regret. But that kiss was so sweet, so amazing, that I found it difficult to think, let alone step away.
And then her arms came around my neck, her fingers playing in the curls at my collar, and I began to remember what it felt like to be wanted by someone who wanted nothing more than my touch, my kiss, who wanted just me, not what I could offer through my business connections or my money.
I lifted her to the edge of the sink without breaking the kiss, my hands sliding under her shirt. Her spine stiffened slightly when I touched this one spot along her ribs, so I had to touch it again. She moaned, the sound a vibration against my lips. And then I pressed my hand under the cup of her bra and that moan became a groan that I felt deep in my balls, the need growing inside of me reaching that point of no return.
It was crazy. A mistake. I knew it as she pulled the t-shirt from my body and discarded it on her perfectly polished kitchen floor. But I couldn’t have walked away if I had wanted to.
Chapter 7
Penelope
I don’t know how it started. I’m not even sure how we ended up in my bedroom. All I know is that his hands were gentler than I imagined they would be and his kisses were enough to make my thoughts become nothing more than background noise.
Damn, he knew what to do with that mouth!
I couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed me this thoroughly. Or the last time a nibble on my ribs had felt like a promise of paradise. And that thing his tongue did to my clit…there were no words!
I was completely naked on my childhood bed with the most incredibly handsome man I’d met in…well, ever, doing things to me that I’d always thought were just a figment of some romance writer’s imagination. I pressed my hands into his hair and pulled him closer to me, moving my hips so that he touched all the right places, noises I didn’t think my body capable of flowing from my mouth.
If I was dreaming, I hoped no one would wake me. Ever.
There was a twinge of disappointment as he began to slide back up the length of my body. But when our lips found one another again, and the taste of my juices was warm on his tongue, it was like the sweetest nectar of the sweetest peach ever eaten. I pressed my hands against the small of his back, pushing at his jeans with my fingertips and my feet, anxious to feel him inside of me. He chuckled a little before pulling back and helping me by unzipping his fly—gee, why didn’t I think of that?—and sliding them over his narrow hips. I watched, enjoying the show. And what those jeans revealed made my heart do a funny little dance it took it a minute to recover from.