Skin (13 page)

Had Jenna predicted this turn of events? Surely not.

And just what did he want to do with this new job role? The priority was for Tinkerbelle not to get hurt, and that meant what? Not physically hurt? Not emotionally hurt? Both?

Did he want to be her opportunity? His body tightened, and he groaned silently. Damn it. He was male. Of course he wanted to bed her. But there was no guarantee he’d be putting himself through anything but exquisite torture and no satisfaction, other than what he’d give himself at the end of the day.

But this wasn’t about him, and it wasn’t about getting something out of this. It was about Tinkerbelle.

He sat in the chair, his mind consumed with that brush of her lips on his, when she did it again.

He sighed and let his lips open.

She stilled.

“Nice,” he murmured so as not to scare her.

He opened his eyes and watched hers get bigger, but inside, deep inside, was a hunger he knew well. A hunger for what she’d never had. A hunger for what she really wanted. A physical hunger for a simple, caring touch, a sexual hunger to explore her own needs and an emotional hunger to no longer be on the outside of a relationship.

A hunger for freedom from this huge issue in her life.

And damn if he didn’t feel many of those same hungers, too.

Then she lowered her head and kissed him a third time.

T
ania knew she
shouldn’t be doing this. For her sake, she wanted to continue forever because it felt wonderful, but she knew this had to be difficult for him. He didn’t even know her, and here she was, using his body, his maleness, as some kind of educational toy. And damn if he wasn’t perfect for the job.

With a sad sigh, she pulled back. “I should stop.”

He kept his eyes closed, but his lips quirked. “Why? You haven’t even started yet.”

“Not fair, I kissed you.”

“Ha,” he mocked. “That wasn’t a kiss.”

She stared at him, curiosity in her eyes. Her mouth opened then closed again. As if unable to keep the words back, she said, “What’s a kiss then?”

He opened his eyes and asked, “Do you not know?”

She flushed but faced him bravely. “Only what I’ve seen in movies or read in books.”

“Romance books,” he teased.

Her cheeks warmed. “Maybe.”

“They aren’t exactly realistic.”

“True. But I already had a hefty dose of realism in my life, thank you.” She stood up and walked to the window.

“Come on, sweetheart. I’m working really hard to not touch you and scare you away, so please don’t let the odd comment do the same thing.”

She turned around to study him. “Do you want to touch me?”

His eyebrows shot up and he snorted. “Of course.”

She shook her head. “There’s no ‘of course’ about it.”

“Come here.”

She took a tentative step forward, but indecision warred inside. Then she took another; in for a penny, in for a pound, or whatever the old saying was. If she was going to get anywhere, she had to step over these barriers. She walked closer until she stood in front of him. Slowly, he closed his knees, caging her in front of him. Her heart raced and she stared down at the tiny prison and stepped back. And he let her.

She took a shaky breath. “You know I can’t stand to be held prisoner, right? Held down…” Her gaze bored into his, making sure he understood. “That force, that kind of strength and restraint will send me running…”

He opened his arms. “Sweetheart, have I done anything to cross the line?”

She shook her head.

“And I won’t.”

“How do I know that? What if you get angry, or sexually aroused…” she left that last bit hanging as once again her cheeks fired up.

“Meaning you think I’m likely to get so aroused that I’ll rape you?”

There. It was out in the open. “No, I don’t
think
you’d do that, but my mind and my body have a disconnect when it comes to this issue.”

“Understood.” His voice leveled off as if he fought some internal issue. “What exactly are we looking at here?”

She swallowed. “Pardon?”

“No, we’re dancing around here, but let’s lay it on the line. I’m a straight kind of guy. Are you wanting to have sex?” His gaze pinned her in place, delving deeper into her mind until she felt his presence inside. So deep inside, she swore he was in her body already.

“What I want and what I can do are two different things.”

“So let’s start with what you want.”

“I want it all. I want sex, to enjoy sex, to be able to please my partner during sex.”

The words slipped out so fast – there was no holding back with this man. She didn’t know how it happened, but she was starting to care for him, maybe because he was being so gentle with her.

“And now the ‘what can you do’ part,” he said.

She waved her hand at him. “Only what we’ve been doing.”

“Except that yesterday, this morning even, you would have said this wasn’t something you could do because it hadn’t happened yet. Now if we go a little further, it will put what you can do closer in line with what you want to do.”

“A little further?” she swallowed hard. “Like how much further?”

*

He didn’t know
if he was using the right tactic, but it seemed important for her to push her line back a little further. She’d come a huge distance already, and if he was to list all of the first steps she’d taken today, it would probably surprise her – possibly scare her. So far, she’d done all the touching; he’d just been a male form for her to test her gossamer wings on. He was so much more, but she wasn’t ready to see it, and maybe he wasn’t ready to offer it.

He had no problems initiating her into lovemaking. He’d rather that than straight sex, and whether she understood it or not, she couldn’t go through this process without having some feelings for the person she’d shared the journey with.

Was she prepared for that? Or would her own emotional overload not allow her to recognize it for a long time? He admired what she was trying to do. Understood the need in so many ways. And could see himself caring for her – deeply. What a quagmire. If he did want to pursue this and she wasn’t able to take these next steps, was he prepared to stick around when sex wasn’t going to be part of the equation? At least, not for a long time? He was no fool. Nor was he a teenager. He’d been married. He had loved and been loved, but there was no doubt a healthy, happy sex life had enhanced their relationship. To think of one without a sexual element…well, if he was honest, he wasn’t sure he could do it.

And that didn’t make him feel good. He was a sexual male in his prime, but he was starting to wonder if he wasn’t still an immature male emotionally. How did one mature in that way – if it wasn’t through moments like this? Through strife and pain. Well, he’d had a lot of pain…had he grown from it, or had he become stuck in his anger, unwilling to move past it?

Damn Jenna after all.

Maybe he was exactly where he needed to be, helping Tania resolve her demons. In the very act of helping her deal with her demons, he just might find that his only existed because he’d been keeping them alive.

Because it was easier.

It was easier because then he wouldn’t have to trust anyone again.

And therefore couldn’t be hurt at the level his ex-wife had gutted him.

If he ever needed proof of courage and need to trust, he only had to look at Tania. She’d already made bigger steps than he had in a direction he couldn’t imagine having to deal with. And he’d been sitting inside his petty corner, refusing to come out because of someone who was no longer in his life.

What the hell?

How and when had he given away his power – and to her, his ex-wife – of all people?

Then he looked at Tania. Sure, she’d had more years to get over her trauma than he’d had, but since it had been such a physical violation, she had so many other issues to deal with.

And look at how well she was stepping up to the plate.

How could he do any less?

T
ania could barely
breathe, waiting for his answer. An answer she received in the form of a half-smile. “In the spirit of cooperation and experimentation, what would be the next step you’d like to take?”

She frowned, looked away, and then glanced back at him. She gave him a little smile. “You could kiss me.”

He grinned. “My pleasure.” He stood up until he towered over her. Her gaze widened in shock and she swallowed. “Uhm, that’s not going to work.”

His grin widened. In a sudden move, he flipped her so she was standing on the bed looking down at him. She shrieked.

Surprised at the suddenness of the movement, she reached out and put her hands on his shoulders for stability.

“This isn’t going to work, either.” She shook her head. “You’re too tall.”

Kane shook his head at her innocence. He sat down and patted his knee. “Then you’d better sit back down again.”

She frowned, jumped off the bed, and sat down again.

At his smirk, she glared. “What’s so funny?”

“You. You let me pick you up, turn you around, and you willingly grabbed onto me to stop yourself from falling. Now you’re back sitting on my knee. See what you’ve become accustomed to so quickly?”

Her mind turned his comment upside and downside as she realized he was correct. She hadn’t flinched when he’d lifted her. She had shrieked instead, but it wasn’t due to fear.

Not from him.

“I’m not scared of you,” she said, wonder in her voice. “You’re big enough to squash me flat without thinking about it, but you wouldn’t. At least, not to me. At least not right now.”

“Never.” He slid his hand up her slender back – gently, soft, indomitable. When he reached her neck, he squeezed ever so slightly and nudged her head forward. “Kiss me.”

“I thought you were going to kiss me instead.”

Their eyes met, locked, and heat coursed through her. She wanted to kiss him – wanted his lips on hers, wanted to feel whatever he could make her feel. His mouth so close to her own, his breath mingled with hers when he whispered, “Kiss me.”

His words washed over her as her eyes drifted closed and she leaned in, placing her lips on his.

Instantly, the hand behind her head gentled and his lips moved on hers, taking a taste of her like he hadn’t before. He brushed his lips back and forth, his tongue sliding across her sensitized skin.

“Open for me.”

The words filtered through the haze in her mind, tugging at her to understand them – but she didn’t want to. She pressed her lips harder against his. He slipped his tongue out. Her mouth blossomed under his, taking, sharing, needing as much as he gave her. She followed his lead and gave back every bit of the pleasure he was giving her.

She lost track of time…of place…of purpose. There was only one thing in her world right now – Kane’s mouth.

His tongue stroked, teased, and tasted. She sighed and sagged against him.

He trailed kisses down the side of her cheek, to her ear, and down the nape of her neck. She shivered, shifting to give him better access. He could have anything he wanted as long as he kept this up. In the background, someone was moaning, a sound that excited her almost as much as Kane’s seductive touch. Then she realized the moans were hers.