I enter Jane’s room with her clinging tightly to me, seemingly okay with me just dragging her back here like a caveman. I take a moment to actually look around, something I didn’t do the other night when I fucked her, and a smile tugs at my lips. I hadn’t noticed before, but in the bright light of day, her walls are a buttery yellow and white lacy curtains grace her window. Her bed is old-fashioned looking, made of brass and covered with a multitude of poofy pillows and a flower-embroidered spread.
It’s so Jane and I can’t wait to lay her—throw her—on that perfectly made bed and mess it up. Part of me wonders if I’m a sick bastard for that… for wanting to dirty her up a bit.
Tilting my face so I can look at Jane, I find her eyes shining with equal parts of hope and determination that I said I’d keep an open mind about staying, but, more to my satisfaction, they’re shimmering with desire. That I can deal with.
With great restraint and counter to original plans, I lower her slowly to the floor so she gets her footing. Her hands come to my chest, fingertips pressing in slightly. She’s so damn gorgeous and earnest in her desires that I know I’m not worthy, but she is also standing before me because she wants to be here.
“You do want this, right?” I press her, because while her eyes may tell one story, I know the heart can be trickier.
Jane slides her hands up my chest and clasps them behind my neck. She steps in closer to me and tilts her head back a bit. “Kyle… I want this. I know and understand your terms. I’m a grown woman and I know the risks. So yes, I want this, but what I also want is for you to accept that so we don’t have to have this conversation each time. Frankly, it’s a downer.”
Relief courses through me, along with a tremor of amusement. I can’t help but chuckle. “A downer, huh?”
She grins and nods. “Total downer.”
I bend in and brush my lips against her jaw. “Let’s see if I can rectify that, okay?”
Jane presses in closer and whispers. “Sounds like a fantastic plan. I’ve never had sex like this in the middle of the day and so spontaneously.”
I jolt because this surprises me. While on one hand Jane is definitely a wholesome type of girl, I personally know she’s got spunk and adventure within.
She just shrugs at me with a sheepish grin. “What can I say? Craig wasn’t all that creative.”
I wince, because I don’t want to think about her with another guy. In fact, I want to obliterate that douchebag from her memory, and it’s time to start that process.
My hands come up to frame her face, and I bring my mouth down to hers. She’s waiting for me, open and accepting, and the minute our tongues touch each other, every cell in my body becomes electrified. It’s a sensation I’ve never experienced before. I’ve fucked a lot of sexy women. Done a lot of dirty fucking. Had women bend over backward to please me.
But never has one touched me like this on a cellular level. Only Jane has managed to make me feel something so unique and mysterious that I almost doubt what I’m feeling in this moment. I deepen the kiss. The tingles of need sweeping through my body magnify, and yes… it’s mysterious, but it’s real.
She’s more real than anything I’ve ever known before.
“Yoooo-hoooo,” I hear a woman’s voice calling out from Jane’s living room, and my body freezes. A slight moan of disappointment slides from Jane’s mouth into mine before I break the kiss.
Jane lets her head fall forward onto my chest, only to lift it back up and bang it softly there a few times in frustration. My hand automatically curls around the back of her neck, and I give her a squeeze of understanding.
“Now that’s a downer,” she mutters, then looks up to me with apologetic eyes and explains, “You’re about to meet my mother.”
“Fuck,” I mutter back, then look hopefully over her shoulder at the frilly white curtains. “Can I sneak out the window?”
She snickers and takes my hand. “You’re funny.”
“Wasn’t being funny,” I tell her truthfully as she leads me out of her bedroom. With my free hand, I adjust myself down below and hope her mother maintains eye contact with me.
Jane holds my hand all the way into the living room and doesn’t release it when she says, “Mom… what are you doing here?”
Her mom is standing just inside the doorway, holding a large grocery bag in one arm. A set of keys is dangling from her other hand. With wide eyes, she stares at me but addresses Jane, “Oh, dear Lord… I guess I should have knocked, huh?”
Jane squeezes my hand. “Mom… you remember Kyle, right?”
“He took you to dinner a while back,” her mom says as she nods at me with a smile.
A big, smug, knowing but happy smile.
Yes, she looks oddly pleased that her daughter is leading me out of her bedroom. In fact, I’d say she was actually basking in that knowledge, which is totally fucking weird in my book. If her mom really knew who I was deep down, she’d be screaming at her daughter to run in the opposite direction.
Jane makes a disapproving sound in her throat, and I look down at her. She’s shaking her head at her mom and has a chastising look on her face. A teacher’s look. I bet many a student has cowered from that look from Miss Cresson.
“Mom,” Jane says with censure. “Kyle was fixing that rotted windowsill in my bedroom.”