Surrender to Love (15 page)

Rising onto her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his
shoulders, swiping the flat of her tongue up the side of his throat and ending at his ear where she nipped his lobe playfully.

Then she said the most devastating words he’d ever heard a woman speak. “I’m hungry,” she whispered into his ear.

“Then crawl back into bed and I’ll whip up some breakfast,” he said, misunderstanding.

He moved to set her away from him, when she surprised him. With a strong hand, she gripped his hard shaft in her fist and tugged. When he looked down into her eyes, he saw a fierce hunger burning back at him.

“I’m not hungry for breakfast.”

Then, to his
utter amazement, she undid him completely. Dropping down on to her knees before him, she caught his eyes as she leaned forward and opened her mouth wide to suck him in completely.

He could still feel her silky hair between his
fingers, and hear her moans when he spoke to her. “That’s right, suck it, Patricia. Let me feed you.”

Her arousal was so strong, it leaked from her tight sheath
, and he watched, rapt, when she reached between her legs to spread her moisture, fingering her clit and dipping into her pussy.

He came hard
in her mouth, driving himself so deep down her throat she had to work to suppress her gag reflex. That only drove him higher. Watching her swallow him down, her eyes closed tightly and her fingers working feverishly, until she came apart, too, drove him insane.

He was an experienced man when it came to women, but with Patricia, every act felt like something new, something to relish and cherish.
With her, he was virgin all over again.

There was only one other time in his life that he’d ever experienced something similar, but even that didn’t hold a candle to what she did to him. It was surreal and astonishing
, and he wasn’t sure what he would do if it went to shit like everything else in his life had up to that point. He just didn’t think he could handle hurting her, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he did.

Jon’s life was a pile of ruins masked by wealth and power. If he allowed her to get too close
, if she got even the smallest glimpse of whom he really was and what he’d done, she’d be devastated, too. But he was inherently selfish, which was why he refused to let her go now, knowing he ought to send her away for her own good. She felt too damn good, fit too damn perfect, and he wanted to hold on to the little bit of happiness she’d brought his way for as long as he could.

This
was why anger and frustration roiled in his gut Saturday morning as he drove them both to his childhood home.

15

Patti attempted to distract herself from the whole “meeting the parents” situation that was going down by listening to the static-filled music playing on the radio and studying the passing landscape. Having grown up in the heart of Chicago, she’d never been outside the city proper before.

Jon held her hand in his lap as he drove, his thumb smoothing rough circles across the back of her hand. The action wasn’t as soothing as it should have been. Instead, it seemed to hold all the tension and…something
else that she’d been picking up from him the past couple of days.

After making love that first night, they’d rarely spent any time apart. When Jon was at work, Patti occupied herself with the car. She met Lynn for lunch once on Tuesday,
and she’d made a half-assed attempt at searching for a job on Wednesday, but every time five o’clock rolled around, she was a frizzing bundle of lust just waiting for her man to come scoop her up into his arms and make love to her.

Her man.

It was funny that she felt this way now, when she’d never really felt this way before. She had a track record with the opposite sex—one that didn’t deviate far from the scumbag spectrum. Initially, she worried that Jon might not fall far from that particular tree, but taking a chance on him had been the best thing she had ever done. It had only been a few weeks since they first ran into each other—she smiled at the memory—but she could already tell that he was far, far different from any of her previous boyfriends.

Jon was thoughtful, strong, and attentive. He was loving and warm and when he looked at her, she felt
as if he were really seeing her. When she’d gone to tell her father about him one afternoon while Jon was at the office, she confessed how she thought she might be in danger of falling in love with him.

Nothing profound happened when she revealed the news.

Lightning didn’t streak down from the sky to strike her dead.

Her father didn’t crawl out of the grave to scold her into taking it slower.

The sky remained as blue as Jon’s eyes and the birds continued to sing their cheerful tunes, so she took that as a sign that he approved of her choices.

Her mother,
however, was not so receptive. She urged Patti to slow down, to think things through, and not to make any rash decisions. She also brought up her car, just as she always did when she caught sight of it sitting in her driveway.

Sometimes Patti wondered why she drove it there at all when she had a perfectly respectable car sitting at home, but then she knew the answer to that question the instant it crossed her mind: she did it just to piss her off.

“Patti, sweetheart,” her mother said in her most disapproving tone the second she stepped through the front door. “How can you still drive that thing?”

Tossing her purse on
to one of the end tables, Patti flopped down in the chair that had always been reserved for her father, and sighed. “Because it’s my car,” she deadpanned eager to escape the subject.

She could still see her mother’s head shaking as she took her place across from her and folded her legs at the ankles. “You mean because it’s your father’s car.”

“No,” Patti returned, her eyes narrowing into tiny slits. “Because it’s mine. Dad has nothing to do with it.”

Her mother’s pale eyes rolled and her tone turned snide. “Of course he does. He has everything to do with everything, doesn’t he, Patti?”

Even now, miles away, Patti’s back grew rigid at the memory. It was just so uncharacteristic of her to behave that way. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Momma?”

She watched as her mother shifted in discomfort and brushed her palms across her stick thin legs. Her gaze hit the floor. “Let’s not fight, sweetheart. Would you like me to make some tea?”

“I don’t what any damn tea.” Patti sat forward, pinning her to her seat with determined eyes. “I want to know what you mean by that.”

Her mother stood and crossed the room trying to escape
, but Patti leapt to her feet and grabbed a hold of her arm, spinning her around, intent on getting her answer. “Tell me!”

Her mother stared at her like she’d sprouted another head, and then her
expression shifted, growing cold and unyielding. “You’ve always loved him more,” she accused. “Ever since you were a baby, when you cried only he could soothe you. When you wanted someone to read you a bedtime story, only he could do it. Then when you got older, you wanted to be just like him. You started working on that damn car together, and I was all alone.” Her voice shook as her eyes began to well up.

“You’re father died in that car,” she cried. “He died in it and you hold on
to it like it’s a shrine!”

Stunned, Patti had dropped her arm
as if it had caught fire, and stumbled back.

Her mother wiped the tear
s that had spilled from under her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was more controlled. “You act just like he did, you know? You both liked fast cars, both liked taking risks.” Crossing the room, she took a shuddering breath and lowered herself down on the couch cushions.

“Sometimes, when the house is quiet, I just sit here and think. I worry that one day someone will knock on that door, or the phone will ring, and
someone will tell me that my daughter is dead, that she wrapped that blasted car around a tree or spun out of control and crashed into a drainage ditch, and it will be just like that day, happening all over again.”

Through her mother’s entire speech,
Patti stood rooted to her spot, unable to move. After she got past the initial shock of her words, they both had a good cry, and her mother held her, squeezing her in an embrace so tight it threatened to crush her.

She’d never known she felt that way. She’d never realized their relations
hip was so strained. It was eye opening.

Of course, then she couldn’t stop thinking about how, just the evening before, when she and Jon had gone out to grab dinner
, they had almost made her mother’s worst nightmare come true.

Sports cars weren’t all-weather vehicles, despite what some people seemed to think. Which was why she lik
ed to keep the Toyota on hand—it got better traction. It had been overcast when they left, but they weren’t planning to be gone long, and Jon had started enjoying taking her baby out for a spin whenever they went anywhere. She couldn’t blame him. She understood the draw of a piece of powerful machinery, and she was thrilled that he had seemed to be getting past whatever hang-ups he had about the car initially.

By the time they’d picked up their meals and started to head for home, a slow drizzle had begun to wet the streets. Jon was a good driver. She approved of how he handled the car. Everything was going smoothly and they were only two blocks from home, when another car ran the red light.

Jon stomped on the brakes, and the car fishtailed through the intersection. Realizing his error, he let off on the brake and tried to steer into the spin, but it was already too late. She screamed and braced herself for impact as they drifted across all four lanes toward oncoming traffic.

She was certain they were going to die that day.

But they didn’t.

Somehow, the car slowed down enough for Jon to regain control and he twisted the wheel, narrowly avoiding the cars that were speeding toward them. After some careful maneuvering, he got them back on the road and home safely.

He hadn’t driven the car since.

The memory was unsettling even for her, but she suspected that it had shaken him up pretty bad. She recalled his odd behavior when she’d take
n him on their date to the racetrack and how he didn’t want to take her car that day. She thought about the moment when they were about to make love for the first time and how he had drawn away, telling her there were things about him that she didn’t know. Things that would make her change her mind about him. That he had destroyed lives.

She wondered now, as she peered out the window at the fast approaching suburban
neighborhood, if Jon’s aversion to cars, more specifically, sports cars—she never did find out what happened to that Dodge Charger—was something she should be concerned about.

She didn’t have any more time to think on the subject, however, because Jon had just pulled into the driveway of a homey
looking two-story Tudor with a very warm and smiling couple who were already making their way toward the truck with their arms held wide.

Oh boy.
   

***

Jon was already opening her door for her and reaching for her hand before his parents’ feet touched the driveway. Patti was a bundle of nerves as she stepped down from the truck.

“How are you doing?” Jon asked, pausing to close her up in his arms.

“Besides feeling like I’m about to throw up?” Patti swallowed hard and slanted a glance toward the shining couple where they stood patiently waiting for them to come to them.

Taking her face firmly in his hand, Jon lifted her chin to look at him. “Don’t be nervous. My parents are going to love you.”

Patti wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It was one thing to meet family members, but she knew, beyond a doubt, that this wasn’t just a “hey, how are ya?” type visit. This was the real deal. Somehow, a week’s worth of casual sex and hanging out had turned into a full-fledged relationship.

Making her even more uncomfortable, Jon leaned in and kissed her.
Kissed
her! Right in front of his parents.

“Just stick with me,” Jon said, releasing her. Winding his arm around her, he guided her around the
truck toward the couple who sported matching grins. Patti squared her shoulders and pasted a smile on her face.

“There’s my handsome boy. Come give your mother a hug!” Jon dropped his hold on her hand
and grabbed his mother up.

Left to sway in the breeze, Patti folded her hands in front of her and waited while his mother doted on him.

“You must be the woman we’ve heard so much about. Hi, I’m Walter, Jon’s father, but you can call me Walter.” Walter stepped forward, his salt and pepper hair glinting in the early morning sunlight, and reached out his hand. Patti had to crane her neck to look him in the face. Now she knew where Jon got his height.

“Hi, I’m Patti,” she introduced herself, and extended her hand to his. But instead of shaking it, Walter took her by surprise and pulled her in for a huge bear hug.

With her arms pinned down at her sides, Patti was powerless to move, let alone breathe.

“Dad,” Jon chuckled. “Put my woman down before you smother her.”

“Walt,” his mother scolded. She slapped his shoulder for good measure. “Put the girl down. I swear, the first woman Jon brings home in ages and you practically molest her. Hi,” she said, her voice dripping with sugar as his father released her back on her feet. “Sorry about my husband. I haven’t house broken him yet, but you know what they say about old dogs. You must be Patricia.”

Like his father, Jon’s mother pulled her into her arms and squeezed her to her breast. “Please, call me Patti,” she wheezed, giving her an awkward pat on the back.

“Patti it is.” She set her away from her, only to hook her arm in the crook of her elbow and begin leading her up the concrete path toward the house. “And you can call me Stephanie.”

“Nice to meet you, Stephanie,” Patti said with a smile. She glanced over her shoulder at Jon, who grinned back at her
as he followed along with his father.

“
Come inside. You can help me get the snacks ready while you tell me all about how you and my son met.”

And the interview had begun.