“Hey! Is Connor a big brother yet?” Jake asked when I finally managed to call him later that day.
“He is.” I yawned, wandering through the hospital cafeteria in search of caffeine and sustenance. “He has a beautiful baby sister, name yet to be determined.”
“How’s Stacey?”
“Tired, but she did incredibly well. Only twenty-two minutes of pushing. Apparently, that’s good. She said with Connor she pushed for over three hours.”
“Oh God,” he drawled, his tone mimicking my own sentiments about the whole child-birthing thing.
“I know.”
“So, were you like there … for the whole thing?”
“Yup.” I yawned again. “Not going to lie, it’s pretty disgusting. But beautiful at the same time. But gross.”
“Okay, enough, I’m eating. How are you?” A warm tingle of something ran through my tired and achy body at his caring words. This guy was full of surprises. Not at all the rude fraidy-cat I’d met on the plane only four days ago.
Had it really only been four days? Why did I feel like I’d known him for so much longer?
I closed my eyes for a moment as I stirred my small paper cup of coffee and paid for my apple and cinnamon bun, secretly wishing that they just sold giant hunks of cheese so I could scurry off to a corner and devour the whole thing. “I’m fine. Exhausted, but somehow I don’t feel like I have the right to say that, given the fact that I didn’t just expel another human being from my body.”
He chuckled. I could hear the sound of dishes being washed in the background and some children’s show with a really irritatingly upbeat song. “You’re allowed to be tired, just not as tired as Stacey. Are you going to sleep at the hospital again?”
“No.” I bit into my cinnamon bun and nearly had an embolism from the sudden rush of sugar to my severely depleted brain. The smell instantly reminded me of Jake, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll stick around until Stacey and the baby wake up, make sure they have everything they need for the night, and then I’ll come back. I’ll be there probably around six or seven. You need me to pick up anything for you guys?”
“Naw, Connor and I walked to the store earlier today and picked up a few things. We just had some mac and cheese with veggies for lunch, and he’s asked for pancakes for dinner. I spied some breakfast sausages in the back of her freezer, so I think I’ll cook those up too, get some protein into this kid. All he wants to eat is bloody Goldfish crackers.”
I marveled at how easily domesticity came to him. I would have been pulling my hair out in a mild state of panic had I been forced to stay home with a three-year-old, whereas Jake seemed cool as a cucumber. “I guess I should probably ask and not assume that you don’t, given your age, but do you have kids?”
He started to laugh. “Why? Because I know how to keep them alive for twenty-four hours?”
“Well … yeah.”
“I have nieces and a nephew who I am quite doting on, but a lot of it’s just common sense. When they’re hungry, you feed them. Plus, he’s three. He’s old enough to tell me what he wants. It’s not like he’s a baby and I have to run through the checklist to figure out why the hell he’s crying.”
I blew on my coffee and then took a sip, wincing when it burned my tongue. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thank you again for coming. You really helped us.”
“No worries. But I’ve got to go. The little man wants to play Legos, and I never turn down Legos.”
“Okay, see you in a bit.” I giggled, my heart warming at the idea of Jake sitting on the floor playing Legos with a three-year-old. He was just so full of surprises.
A few hours later, I knocked on the door, feeling weird about it but not knowing if I should just go in either. Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long, and two men, one tall and one small, both wearing aprons, greeted me with giant smiles and what appeared to be pancake batter on their faces.
“Hello.” I smiled, dead on my feet but also starving, my mind and stomach at war in my body over whether sleep or food was more important.
“Pancakes!” Connor smiled, running back to the kitchen and then bringing me a plate with one pancake on it. “Here!”
“Oh, ah, thank you, honey. Maybe I’ll eat it at the table though, okay? Will you join me?”
He nodded emphatically and followed me into the kitchen, where we all took seats and then proceeded to dig in to the enormous stack of blueberry pancakes that Jake had just “whipped up.”
“So, do we have a name yet?” he asked, his mouth full, while a smear of blueberry marred the corner of his mouth. I fought the compulsion to lean over and wipe it off.
“I think Stacey has decided on Thea Jasmine Saunders, and from the way she was talking earlier, this little dude’s going to be getting a different last name soon too.” I grabbed another two pancakes off the stack and poured far too much maple syrup on top, much to Jake’s delight, followed by a heaping helping of whipped cream.
“Really?” he asked. “Why?”
I stilled. “Oh, ah … no reason. Uh … Stacey just wants the kids to have her last name, that’s all. Seeing as their dad isn’t in the picture, and she’s going to change her name back legally too.”
“But why? Where’s their dad?”
“He’s dead,” I whispered, giving him the stink-eye, so that he knew to be quiet around Connor when mentioning the “D” word.
He made an apologetic face and then mumbled under his breath. “Did he die with your husband?”
I looked down at my plate and cut my pancakes until they were just a mound of tiny little bite-size pieces. “Uh, yeah.”
“Oh jeez.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry. To leave a kid and a pregnant wife. Well, it’s lucky that you have each other.”
“Yeah.” I hated lying, not to mention I was terrible at it. I’d been taught from a very young age that lying only got you further into trouble, and it hurt the person you were lying to as well. Said that you didn’t trust them enough with the truth, but I just couldn’t tell Jake the truth. It was too embarrassing. He’d probably think I was some pathetic, oblivious looser and would want nothing to do with me, and somehow the thought of Jake wanting nothing to do with me made me almost sick to my stomach.
“Well, why don’t you go have a shower, and I’ll clean up here?” he said, accepting my answer and not pressing for more. He stood up and began clearing the table. “You look exhausted. And before you get all ‘female’ on me and say ‘so what you’re saying I look like shit?’ that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying you look beautiful but about to fall asleep into your whipped cream. You’ve been awake for nearly two days. You deserve to rest.”
I gaped at him. Who the heck was this guy? But I didn’t have enough energy to argue or question him. I simply nodded, finished my pancakes and, without a word, headed to the bathroom. The water was like warm and welcoming angel wings enveloping me into a cocoon of steam and pummeling my sore body into a pliant heap of skin and bones.
I’m not sure how long I stood under the spray, but I was thankful that the hot water was free in the building and I didn’t have to worry about jacking up Stacey’s water bill. Eventually I felt pruney and shut the tap off, wrapping myself up in a big towel, only to realize that I’d forgotten all my clothes in my bag, which I’d left in the living room. I thought about calling out to Jake to bring me my bag, but when I poked my head around the corner, I heard a soft tune coming from Connor’s room and realized that Jake must have put him to bed, so I didn’t want to yell.
Shrouding myself in the oversized sheet, I tiptoed out to the living room to grab my bag, only when I got there, it wasn’t where I’d left it. Did Jake take it to the bedroom? Backtracking, I opened the door to Stacey’s room only to find my bag on the dresser and the bed turned down. Jake busied himself folding what looked to be Connor’s laundry.
No, seriously, who the heck was this guy?
“I—I, uh, I forgot my bag,” I stammered, suddenly very aware of my nakedness beneath the towel. I quickly snatched up my entire bag and hurried off to the bathroom, only to emerge minutes later in my hastily packed sleepy owl pajama pants and a worn and faded old Spice Girls T-shirt that was more of a crop top than a shirt.
What was I thinking?
When I walked back into the bedroom, he was still busy folding laundry. I wasn’t sure what came over me, perhaps it was the fatigue, maybe the weird heady high of being a part of something bigger than myself for once, a bizarro-world makeshift family. Perhaps I was drunk on pancakes, who knows? But I strode right up to him and pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you so much for everything.”
The look he gave me made me take a half step back and my pulse hammer inside my veins. I swallowed as that familiar tingle made its way back into my belly. The man’s looks were pure animal. “I don’t want to upset you, Freya, and it’s not why I came, but if you asked anything of me tonight, I wouldn’t hesitate.”
“Wh-what does that mean?” I swallowed again, knowing exactly what it meant.
He gave me an appraising look. “I think you know exactly what it means. But if you’re too tired, you can crawl right into bed without saying a word.”
I eyed him from head to toe. He watched me with amusement as I checked him out. A small smirk curved on his plump lips as my eyes stayed just a touch too long on his very tight, very appealing abdomen.
God, had I really dreamt about those lips a few nights ago?
He continued to fold laundry. His hands were big and his fingers long, while a few small white scars on the back spoke of labor, working with his hands. I loved a man who could work with his hands: chop wood, repair a fence, build a shed. A man’s man. Those were manly hands, capable hands, hands with stories to tell. I bit my lip fighting off a yawn that had been building. “I am tired,” I finally admitted.
His face didn’t twitch. He just continued to fold the itty-bitty shirts and pants. “Then go to sleep.”
“Where are you sleeping?” My gaze fell to the big queen-size bed. He must have slept in here last night. Was he expecting to sleep in here again tonight? A mild rush of panic took over, but it was mixed with something else, something pulse-racing … interest?
He looked up at me from beneath his lashes with a lopsided smile. “I’ll crash on the couch.”
“Oh.”
He finished what he was doing and scooped up all the clothes, planning to take them out of the room. I wandered around to the side of the bed he’d turned down for me. The electric charge surging around the room between us was enough to fry bacon. I was at a complete loss of what to do. I’d never seduced anyone before. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to seduce him. I just didn’t want him to go. I crawled into bed just as he turned off the light and reached for the door.
“Jake?” It was more a breath than a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“A word?”
I heard his breath snag and the laundry fall to a heap in the hallway. He was back in the room and next to my side of the bed in less than a second.
“Freya? Are you toying with me? Don’t toy with me. We called a truce, remember?” Suddenly the jokester was gone, and in his place was an incredibly sexy, menacingly handsome, virile man. There was no child or boy here. He was ALL man.
I shook my head and swallowed again, looking down at the intricate pattern on the purple and white bedspread. “No. I … I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Do you want something to happen?”
I couldn’t look at him, but I gave a small nod. “I think so.” I could scarcely believe my own boldness. I’d never done anything like this before in my life.
“Freya,” he whispered, the tenor of his voice rough and husky like twelve-year-old whiskey. “I’m crazy about you, but don’t tease me.”
“I … I don’t know what I’m saying. I’ve never done this before.”
“Do you want me?”
My face felt warm, and my chest rose and fell fast and uneven. “Yes,” I whispered. And before I could think any further, his hand cupped my cheek and his lips brushed mine. I closed my eyes and melted into his touch, leaning my face into his hand and opening my mouth to grant him access.
But he pulled away, tilting my chin up in the process, his gaze soulful and penetrating.
“You’re a widow and grieving. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
I shook my head and smiled softly. “I’m not, and you’re not.”
“Are you sure?”
I ran my tongue between the seam of my lips, tasting his kiss. “I think so.” My nipples pearled against my Spice Girls T-shirt, and my breasts felt heavy and needful. The way he looked at me, with such hunger, the way a starving man might stare at a loaf of bread in a shop window, it saturated my senses and had me drenched with longing. I was no longer thinking with my mind. This was purely primitive, purely physical and all body.
Slowly, like a panther stalking his prey, he stretched out on top of me, pressing my body into the bed. His lips trailed warm, wet kisses along my neck and chin. “You’re so beautiful,” he purred. “Your skin is like ivory and soft as silk.”
Was this guy for real? Ted never waxed poetic like this.
“Jake … ” I panted, not knowing where to put my hands and letting them awkwardly fall to his shoulders, “kiss me.”
And kiss me he did.
He lips captured mine, devouring me, savoring me. His tongue thrust inside, stroking and massaging until I was needy and greedy, shamelessly arching into him, desperate for friction.
“Let me taste you,” he murmured, his mouth traveling down my neck and chest to my stomach. “It’s all I’ve wanted to do since we met.”
“N-no, no, no!” I stammered, attempting to wriggle away. “You don’t have to.”
But he slid his hands beneath me and cupped my butt. His tongue swirled around my navel, forcing a groan to bubble up at the back of my throat. I couldn’t stop myself, and my hips lifted from the mattress, pushing into his attention.
Blowing cool air on my center, he pushed my legs farther apart.
“Relax,” he cooed. “Let me. You’re so tightly wound, and you won’t tell me why. Just … just let me, please?” I had to hand it to him; he managed to pull off some pretty convincing puppy-dog eyes, and the man was essentially begging me to let him give me pleasure. I was hard-headed, but I wasn’t stupid, and if Jake did other things as well as he kissed, then I was almost certainly in for an unforgettable night.
One great night.
I deserved it, didn’t I? And that’s all it was, I had to remind myself, one night. When we returned home, this couldn’t and wouldn’t happen again. Never again.
“Okay,” I sighed, letting my muscles go lax and my body dissolve into the mattress. “But I should warn you … ” He quirked an eyebrow at me as his fingers deftly peeled my bottoms and underwear down my legs. “I’m not like these newfangled women who wax it all off.”
He grinned salaciously as he chucked my clothes to the floor and came face to face with my bush. He chuckled. “All natural. I like that.”
“You don’t mind?”
Shaking his head, he positioned himself on his stomach and wedged his hands beneath me again, pulling himself so he was flush with the juncture of my thighs. “Not at all. I think it’s a beautiful little pussy. A firecracker, just like you.” And with that, his fingers spread me open and his tongue dipped inside. “Mmm,” he hummed. “So sweet.”
I closed my eyes and sank farther into the bed, my hands traveling down to rest on his bobbing head, letting the deluge of sensations wash over me. I lifted my head and watched as this insanely beautiful man ate me out with diligent fascination. His one and only focus was bringing me pleasure. A finger slipped inside, and I pushed up into his face.
“You’re so tight,” he murmured, the hum of his voice reverberating through me like a euphoric wave. “And greedy.”
“Jake, I … oh God.” The man was an expert, through and through. Dedicated to his craft. The twists and twirls of his tongue had me close within seconds. “I’m … I’m close,” I sighed, patting his head. “Y-you can stop now.”
Looking up at me, but not stopping his efforts, he lifted an eyebrow and murmured, “Why would I stop? I want to hear you come. Come for me, Freya.”
Even if I wanted to, I wasn’t able to stop it. The pleasure took hold of me like a feather in a gust of wind, whipping me up high, higher than I’d ever been before, only to send me sailing back down toward earth in a giant spiral of enraptured sensations.
I bucked and thrust into his face as every nerve ending in my body seemed to stand on end and fire at the same time. I panted as if I’d just run a marathon, and a light misting of perspiration beaded across my chest and forehead
Jake popped up like a prairie dog, a wide and triumphant grin on his face, his lips glistening with my arousal. “You’re not a tough nut to crack at all. Here I thought I might have to be down there half the night, you were so tense.” He snickered, crawling up toward the headboard and planting a big, noisy kiss on my lips. “How do you feel?”
I squirmed under his intense gaze. Just because we did things didn’t mean we then needed to discuss them. “Fine,” I whispered, avoiding his face.
“Look at me,” he said quietly, gently turning my face with a finger beneath my chin. “You okay?”
I sat up in the bed but then I realized I was naked from the waist down. I quickly pulled the covers up to hide myself. “I’m fine. Thank you very much for that. It was nice.”
His laugh made me jump. It was so loud and abrupt that at first I thought he was angry. “You’re fine? It was nice? Did you just thank me? Who the hell are you, woman?”
“I … I don’t know what you mean?”
“I just ate you out and you came in record-breaking time, albeit quietly, but you’re behaving as if I just finished painting your garage or installing new grout in your bathroom. ‘It was nice?’ ”
I didn’t understand what he was getting at. Was I not supposed to orgasm? He’d told me to. Ted only ever went down on me as foreplay, and then once I was turned on, we’d have sex, which is why I had tapped Jake on the head to let him know I was close. So why was he mocking me now?
I shook my head. “If you didn’t want me to get off, why did you tell me to?” I finally asked, not understanding anything that was going on and feeling uncomfortable with the entire topic.
Now it was his turn to look confused. “Of course I wanted you to get off. I wouldn’t have put my face between your legs if that wasn’t my end goal. Besides, you came on to me. You’re a really confusing woman, you know that? I can’t figure you out.”
“I—I don’t know what you want from me,” I stammered, pulling my legs up to my chest beneath the covers and hugging them. “This conversation is making me really uncomfortable.”
Quickly his frustration and confusion dissolved and he reached for my hands. “Freya, have you never been allowed to orgasm from oral sex before?” I looked away and focused on the duvet cover again. Why was he so set on talking about this? “Look at me,” he whispered.
I shrugged. “That’s just not how Ted and I did things. He would go down on me but it was only to … to start things. Never finish them.”
He nodded solemnly. “And the orgasm, how was it … really? You’re an English teacher; use some big English words. If it was actually just nice, then next time I’ll try harder, but if you’re just embarrassed to express your pleasure, then don’t be. You’re a beautiful, sexy, red-blooded woman who is entitled to enjoy her orgasms and sing it from the rooftops.” I rolled my eyes, but he just grinned. “So,” he went on, “how was it?”
I couldn’t stop the small smile that played at the corner of my mouth. “It was really great. Really, really great. I”—I looked down at the duvet again—“I’ve never come like that before. That hard, I mean.”
“But you hardly made a peep. That’s why I’m asking you how it was, because I honestly couldn’t tell. Are you normally that quiet? Or is it because there’s a kid sleeping in the next room and we don’t know how thin these apartment walls are?”
I twisted my lips and shrugged. “I think so.”
He shook his head. “Well, we’ll have to change that. My new goal is to make you scream.” His smile was all wolf. Instinctively I felt my whole body respond and reignite. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that this was a one-time thing.
“So.” His eyelids sank to half-mast as he rolled over and pushed my legs down so that he was spread out on top of me. The weight of his body on mine made my heart rate pick up and my core clench from the memory of his mouth. “Ready for round two?” And before I could answer, he pulled the covers down, and his lips were on me again.
Okay, THIS is the last time.