Home To You (19 page)

“I thought you traveled with them.”

“No, I hadn’t planned on you, and I didn’t think I would end up needing them in a cabin alone in the woods. I didn’t bring any with me.” He dried her off and pulled down the covers on the bed. “Get in before you get cold. I’ll keep you warm.”

Kendall slid between the sheets, and he tossed his towel and followed. First he pulled her against him and rolled her under him, kissing her. Exploring her mouth,
playing tag with her tongue. She pushed him away, hands on his shoulders. “What if I don’t do it right?”

“Sweetheart, it’s not rocket science. Just, you know, watch the teeth.”

“Do you want it?”

“I want whatever you want. Whatever you’re willing to give me, and nothing that makes you feel uncomfortable. All you have to do is tell me what you want, sweetheart, and it’s yours.”

“You mean it?”

“Every word.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Grabbed her hand and wrapped it around his dick.

Her hand tightened around him, and he gritted his teeth as she slid her hands over him, stopping to cup his balls, raking her short nails over them lightly, making him hiss out a breath.

“Did I hurt you?”

He shook his head.

She slid a finger over the head, spreading around the precum already leaking. It was all he could do not to pump into her hand.

He put his hand around hers and squeezed harder, just like he liked it, and groaned when she got the perfect grip. He looked at the ceiling and started thinking about drywall and mud, rotting plaster—anything to avoid watching her little hand jack him off.

A second later, wet heat slid over the head and a tongue lapped around the sensitive ridge. His stomach muscles clenched so tightly, it made it hard to breathe. “Damn, girl, that feels amazing.” He looked at her, her head over his erection, her mouth full, her still-wet hair ticking his stomach and thighs, and her dark eyes on his.

Kendall’s mouth followed her hand as she took him deeper with each pass. When she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked, it was all he could do not to raise his hips.

He ran his hand through her hair, holding her head, leading without pushing. He needed to be able to pull her off him before he got too close. But it felt too good. His heels dug into the mattress, his thighs shook, and he forgot to breathe. When his balls drew up, the tingling at the base of his spine told him it was time to pull out. “Kendall, stop, or I’m going to come.” He tugged on her hair to pull her up, but she didn’t heed his warning—just the opposite.

She slid her hand farther between his legs, pressed hard against his perineum, and, like she’d hit a fire-the- torpedoes button, he lost it with a roar.

He groaned, saw stars, and came like he’d never come before, his entire body vibrating. She didn’t let up; she kept sucking and working it until he felt like one huge exposed nerve.

Every muscle in his body twitched, his stomach muscles ached from the strain, and his mind splintered into a million pieces. It took him a minute or two before he could think straight and get his breathing under control. “Damn, sweetheart, where in the hell did you learn to do that?”

She smiled and licked her lips, looking like a cat who’d just knocked over a gallon of cream. “I put a few things together between what I learned reading and that sensual massage course.”

He pulled her up to him and kissed her senseless. “What else did you learn at that sensual massage course?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and find out, won’t you?”

K
endall watched Jack sleep and didn’t bother hiding her satisfied smile. Oh yeah, things were going really well, and, thanks to her talk with Erin, Jack had finally stopped treating her like a china doll. She might be walking funny for a few days, but she’d succeeded in making him lose control three times in the past few hours and had loved every minute of it. She felt powerful, in charge, in control, and that was something she’d never experienced before. Everything about her sexuality, her life, her future had been dictated by David, and she’d just gone along with it. Now she was in charge, and although it was scary, it was exciting, new, and empowering.

Kendall slid out of bed and pulled on a sweatshirt, a pair of leggings, and thick wool socks, and headed to the kitchen to figure out what to make for dinner. As far as she could see, the only bad thing about being in a secluded mountain cabin during a nor’easter was that there was no available takeout.

She stared into the refrigerator, thoughts tumbling through her mind like dice on a craps table. The snow had stopped, and her parents would be back in town any day now, so, really, there was no reason to continue
hiding out at the cabin. She could go to town and see if there was space available—either a storefront or a house close to downtown that would serve as an office and living space. She needed to find out about SBA loans and check out the want ads for a job. She might be able to get a part-time job and start a practice—heck, even if she got a full-time job, there was no reason she couldn’t start seeing patients on weekends and in the evenings.

Her fingers itched to make a to-do list. She’d always been a huge list maker, and she realized she hadn’t made a list since she met Jack.

Jack. Where did he fit into this new life of hers? How many of the changes, realizations, and plans she’d made had he been at least partly responsible for? If she hadn’t met Jack, would she still be lying around wallowing in her sorrow and eating Ben & Jerry’s? She would still be under the assumption that sexually there was something wrong with her. Now she was pretty damn sure there was absolutely nothing wrong with her at all. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same thing about David. But, then, David was no longer her problem. Thank God.

She’d been staring into the fridge like it was some kind of crystal ball, and she still didn’t have a clue what to make. She needed something quick and hearty with lots of protein, because she had a few other things to check off her sexual bucket list, and she wanted to make sure Jack had the energy he needed. She pulled out the eggs, cheese, leftover veggies, and meat—when all else failed, a good frittata was fast, easy, and yummy.

“I didn’t say you could leave the bed, young lady.” She’d just smiled at the sound of his voice, but then she felt teeth on the back of the neck, strong arms wrapping around her waist, and her feet leaving the floor.

“Jack, if I don’t cook, you don’t eat. We haven’t even had lunch, and I don’t know about you, but I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

“The only appetite I have is for you.”

Jack set her back on her feet, and she turned in his arms. God, she could get used to this. “I’m not buying it. I’ve watched you eat almost nonstop since I got here and tossed some food down in front of you—of course, I had to watch my fingers when I fed you.”

He backed her up against the counter and kissed her neck, nipping her earlobe, sending tingles to all her girl parts. “You do bring out the animal in me.”

“I know. Isn’t it great?”

He gave her one of his crooked smiles. “I’m just glad you think so. I was having a hard time keeping the tiger caged around you. But then you did everything to pick the damn lock.”

“You just bring out my adventurous side. I feel like I’ve been living kind of a half-life. I didn’t know it could be any different. But now I know, and I’m really glad I’m not there anymore.”

“Are you happy you’re here?”

She looked at him and saw a flash of uncertainty. At least she thought she had. She remembered her suspicions about his loss. Not that she knew what it was—he never mentioned it—but it was there between them, and it was a real, living, breathing elephant in the room. “I am happy. I thought that was pretty evident.”

“Do you want to stay here? With me?”

“Are we talking physically or metaphorically?”

“Definitely metaphorically.”

“Jack, where are you from?”

“Chicago.”

“And don’t you have a life there to get back to?”

“If my brain heals, I have a job, but a life? No, no life.”

She didn’t have much of a life either. But she was going to start living one. “You know, as a therapist, I have to tell you that after a traumatic event, you shouldn’t jump into anything serious for a year or make any major life changes.”

“What’s your definition of a traumatic event?”

“A death of a loved one, divorce, and I would say a traumatic brain injury would qualify.”

“So, what are you supposed to do for this year while you’re not jumping into anything serious or making major life changes?”

“That’s a good question.”

“Sweetheart, I have a feeling you don’t choose serious—it just kind of creeps up on you. And, no, I didn’t have a life in Chicago, but after the accident, I wished I’d had one. Once you come close to dying, you have a real aversion to wasting any of the time you have left.” He stood there looking much younger than she’d ever thought he could. “I couldn’t remember anything about the day of the accident—I still can’t. I’m told I was skiing and caught an edge and went headfirst into a big tree.” He said it like it was nothing, but he touched that spot by his scalp. “I looked like I’d gotten run over by a truck.”

She laughed because he’d wanted her to, but she didn’t think it was at all funny. She could imagine him all battered and bruised, and the thought of him injured made her heart hurt.

“I’d been in a drug-induced coma for a few days, and when I woke up, I was alone in the ICU. I didn’t know where I was, and whether or not those drugged-out dreams or nightmares I had were real or imagined. I
remember wanting to see my sister and some family friends, and wondering if there was a woman out there I loved and who loved me. I didn’t remember anyone, and I thought, Shit, what if I have amnesia or something? That’s when I freaked out, and all the nurses came running. I still had the drain in my head, and when I got up, the amount of fluid draining increased. They were not happy with me.”

“I imagine you weren’t the easiest patient.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“It must have been terrifying.”

“The nurses were quick to tell me that my sister and our friends had been there the whole time, and that, no, I wasn’t married and didn’t have a girlfriend—at least one who cared enough to show up.”

“I’m sure they did. Were those the same nurses who gave you their phone numbers?”

He did one of his one-shoulder shrugs. “Yeah, actually, they were. But, Kendall, they didn’t mean anything to me. No one did. That was my problem. Once I woke up, I realized I’d spent most of my life either going to school or doing my job, and I didn’t know why. I mean, I was good at it, and, sure, I guess I got some enjoyment from it, but I didn’t choose it. I was groomed. It’s a family business, and I’m all the family that’s left.”

“Your parents?”

“They’re gone. I have some uncles, and when I graduated, I was supposed to take my rightful place in the family business.”

“What did you want to do?”

“I don’t think I ever thought about it. It’s kind of like being born a prince. You don’t choose to become a king—you just do. I didn’t think there were options. I loved swimming, but . . .” He shook his head. “My folks died right
before the Olympic Trials, and I was transferred to an all-boys boarding school. I lost my home, my team, my coaches.”

“And your sister?”

“All-girls school.”

“You lost everyone you loved and your dreams on the same day?”

“It felt like it at the time.”

She felt tears welling in her eyes, and she realized that with Jack, she’d lost all the ability to see him and his situation clinically. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t cry. Please. I can’t stand to see you cry.” As he pulled her to him, her face found that spot in the crook of his neck. He smelled so good, like soap and laundry detergent and something intrinsically him.

She sniffed. “I’m not crying.”

“Right, your eyes are just leaking.”

“You know how women are when they’re PMSing—we just dissolve into tears for no reason.”

He wiped the tears with his thumbs and shook his head. “You slay me, Kendall. You’re the first woman I’ve ever cared about. I can’t help but think that means something. Whatever this is, for me, at least, it’s serious. I guess you need more time.”

“Jack, it’s not like that—”

He cut her off with a kiss. The kind of kiss that speaks volumes but leaves you wondering if you’re translating it correctly. “I’m going to go sand some drywall and put on another coat of mud.”

She’d suddenly lost her appetite, but she knew she had to cook something just to get her thoughts in order.

And then she had to make a list.

*

Jax stepped out to the porch and squinted at the bright morning sun. He needed to grab another load of firewood and cool off. Kendall was in the cabin cooking breakfast half-naked. He turned to find Jaime striding through the snow, looking like he needed a stiff drink or a cup of coffee at the least, which meant he needed to warn Kendall.

As Jaime drew closer, Jax grew more concerned. Not only did Jaime not look happy—the guy usually walked around with a smile on his face—but he also looked more than a little pissed off. “What’s wrong?”

Jaime came up on the porch and stomped the snow off his boots. “Well, good fuckin’ morning to you too.”

The last time Jax had seen Jaime this pissed, both of them had ended up bruised. “It was going great until you got here.”

“Oh, I can imagine how great. You’re enjoying the hell out of yourself, and you’re leaving me to clean up after you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Addie stopped by the shop just before the storm hit, worried about Kendall being up here all alone during the storm.”

“And?”

“She was afraid Kendall was running out of food, so I told her that Kendall was fine and that I lent her the truck to go Concord to do some shopping and to pick up a part for me.”

“Good. That’s good. So we have no problems then, right?”

“No problems? Are you serious? Jax, if you haven’t told Kendall who the hell you are yet, you’ve got more problems than you can count.”

“Funny. Very funny.”

“I’m deadly serious. There are some things men shouldn’t do—having sex with a woman under false pretenses is one of them.”

“Kendall knows exactly how I feel about her.”

“And who does she think has all these feelings for her? Jackson Finneus Sullivan the Third, the Grand Pooh-Bah of Harmony, or some carpenter named Jack who got knocked upside the head by a tree?”

“Jaime.”

“Yet you’ll let her think she’s sleeping with someone you’re not. Isn’t that the same thing?”

“I care about her.”

“Yeah, and which one of you is that—Jax or Jack?”

“Jack. I don’t know if Jax will ever come back, or even if I want him to.”

Jaime shook his head. “There was nothing wrong with my friend Jax that a realignment in priorities couldn’t fix. All work and no play . . .”

“No life.”

Jaime leaned against the porch rail. “Yeah, pretty much. Look, word in town is that Grace and Teddy are expected back any day. The nor’easter might have slowed them down a little, but, dude, you’d better come clean with Kendall, and soon. If not, I don’t see this ending well for either of us.”

“Us? What are you worried about?”

“What am I worried about? I’m up to my eyeballs in your lie. It was one thing covering for each other when we were kids. I could even deal with slowing down the
axle repair—Kendall doesn’t have a clue how long car repairs take. But as for the rest, if Kendall gets hurt and Addie finds out I had anything to do with it, she’ll turn me into a eunuch. Painfully and slowly.”

Jax had known Addie all his life—sure, he hadn’t see her often, but people didn’t change that much. “She’s a kindergarten and Sunday-school teacher. How scary could she be? Face it: Addie’s a pussycat.”

“Oh no, she’s not. She’s a small mountain lion who has already tasted blood. You don’t know. She’s very protective of her friends. And what’s going to happen when Teddy and Grace get wind of it? And they will, because I seriously doubt you and Kendall are just playing tiddlywinks in there.”

“Shit, Jaim.” He sat on the porch and put his elbows on his knees. “What the hell am I going to do? I’ve tried talking to her about us, the future, but she’s skittish as hell.”

“Can you blame her?”

“No, but I can’t help but think that when she finds out the truth, she’s going to think I’m just as bad as that dirtbag David.”

“She might, but you still need to tell her the truth and beg for forgiveness. Oh, and don’t you dare tell her I knew anything about your alter ego.”