Unpredictable Love Page 7

  Her breath hitched as fire flew straight to her core.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I can feel it.”

  His thumb toyed with her nipple, flicking it until it hardened. Then, he pinched it between his first two fingers. Bandages prevented him lowering his head to taste her. He cursed, then squeezed.

  A loud “Ahem” from the doorway made the lovers jump. Jory buttoned up her blouse in a second and a half. Trent coughed.

  “Sorry to break this up, kids. But visiting hours are over.”

  Jory nodded. “Of course.”

  Trent bent his good leg at the knee to hide his response to their little petting session. “She was just giving me a shave.”

  “Of course, she was,” Marie replied.

  “Look. Feel,” he coaxed.

  Marie bent down to see. “Hmm. Looks pretty good.”

  “It was her first time.” He rubbed his face.

  “The razor’s on the night table,” Jory said.

  “I see. Not bad for a beginner. Saves me having to do it. And it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun, either, would it, Staff Sergeant?” Marie put in.

  Trent blushed deep red, making Jory laugh. She shrugged her denim jacket on and stepped over to the bed.

  “Good night, Trent. Marie.”

  “You coming tomorrow?”

  “I am.”

  “Night, missy, see you then,” the nurse tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the door.

  “She’s amazing. She does so much. And she’s always cheerful,” Jory remarked.

  As Trent shifted to regain his former position in the middle of the bed, a spasm of pain shot across his face. Jory laid her palm on his cheek, brushed his lips with hers, and then left.

  When she got home, a plate of dinner was wrapped and waiting for her. She filled a glass with water and popped the dish in the microwave. As she sat eating the meatball casserole, Nan sauntered in.

  “Have fun?”

  “Fun? I don’t go there to have fun.”

  “Really?”

  She shot a confused glance at her aunt.

  “Then how come your bra is unfastened, chickie?” Nan laughed as she left the room.

  Chapter Five

  “I can’t stay long,” she said as she walked in. “But let’s at least get through the next chapter.”

  “Damn. A quickie?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Down, Casanova, no. I have an interview.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yep. Meeting an editor for drinks.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Jealous?”

  “Damn right.”

  “Don’t be. He’s looking for a new managing editor.”

  “I see. Where’s the job? Far from here?”

  “Not too. Let’s get started.”

  After her chapter, she kissed Trent goodbye and headed for her car. She’d been as disappointed as her Marine that she couldn’t spend more time. She wanted to continue where they’d left off, but it wasn’t to be.

  As happy as she was, Jory realized she needed an escape plan. Trent could get a cornea transplant any day. She’d need to blow town. Move, get a new job, disappear. She’d come to realize she couldn’t face him with the truth, couldn’t bear to see the betrayal in his eyes. She’d done it, and now, she was taking the coward’s way out. She didn’t care. It hurt too much to even consider telling the truth.

  She needed this opportunity. It was her only solution. She’d already figured on renting a room in Oak Bend instead of an apartment. That way, she’d have money to send home to Nan and her sister. Amber wasn’t qualified for a better position and had no hope of finding anything there. They needed Jory’s financial contribution.

  She’d gotten it all planned. Get the offer, move to Oak Bend, and start over. So, maybe she’d be breaking Trent’s heart. Maybe her own too. That’s life, those were the breaks, and she was willing to live with the consequences of her foolishness. As for Trent, hell, he’d get over her. After all, she wasn’t the shiniest apple in the basket.

  She met Jim Sparks at Rusty’s, a cocktail lounge in the center of town. He looked to be in his early fifties, salt and pepper hair, ten pounds overweight. He gave her a big smile, which emphasized the wrinkles around his kind eyes.

  Jory ordered a ginger ale—she was driving, after all. Jim had a Manhattan.

  “Mac Caldwell speaks very highly of you. I’ve been looking over your portfolio. Nothing worthy of a Pulitzer yet, but you give good, thorough coverage to the happenings in Pine Grove, and you do it with style and warmth. Nothing worse than an editor who hates his or her town.”

  She agreed. As they fell into easy conversation, she relaxed. They chatted for an hour. Then, he paid the tab, and they got up to leave.

  “I’ve got one more candidate to interview, but I’d say you’re running at the head of the pack. Don’t sell your house and buy a condo yet, but do start thinking about moving to Oak Bend.”

  “I am. I mean, I have been. It’s a lovely town. A lot bigger than Pine Grove. Bustling. Probably a lot to write about here.”

  “That’s what we think. Thanks for coming all this way. I’ll call you in a couple of weeks. No rush on this. Our current managing editor isn’t leaving until the end of the month.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Sparks. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  She put her car in gear and headed for Route 55. A smile crossed her lips. As she drove, she listened to music. Julian Lennon’s song, “Too Late for Goodbyes,” came on.

  For a moment, an image of life with Trent flashed through her brain. A small house, a dog, bird watching, reading together, steamy nights in tangled sheets ran through her mind like a music video. Was it too late for goodbye? She was invested, all the way, in love, completely.

  There was no way she could survive the rejection sure to come when he got a look at her. Telling him the truth was the right thing to do, but she didn’t have the guts for it. That settled the dilemma. She let out a breath. If and when he got his sight back, she’d skedaddle out of town, with no forwarding address. And that would be the end of it. She refused to think beyond that point. After all, until he got the transplant, they could remain together.

  When she got home, she pulled up Oak Bend real estate on her computer and began her search for a place to live. She admonished herself not to overthink the situation, simply follow the plan she’d mapped out, and everything would be all right.

  When she turned out the light, she ignored the war going on between her heart and her head. Eventually, blessed sleep released her from reality.

  * * * *

  The next night, Trent was more animated than usual. She detected the scent of soap, fresh in the air. His short hair was combed. He was clean-shaven and wore a new hospital gown.

  “Hi, Trent, it’s me,” Jory said.

  He shifted his position in bed. “Lock the door. Marie said we could.”

  Jory turned the latch and raised her eyebrows as she sank down in a chair. “Did she? What’s she expecting us to do?”

  “This.” He reached for her hand and pulled her to him for a passionate kiss. “Unless you don’t want to.”

  “Can you?” She blushed at her own words. “I mean…”

  “I know what you mean. That’s the only part of me not injured.” He grinned.

  She paused.

  Trent frowned. “It’s okay. We don’t have to,” he said, withdrawing his hand.

  She put hers on his arm, and he quieted down. “I do. I do want to. But first, there’s something I really need to tell you.” She bit her lip. Could she tell him now, that she wasn’t Amber? She hadn’t been prepared for this. But was it fair to have sex with him, when he thought she was someone else? Her heart beat quickened, waiting for his reply.

  “Tell me? Are you married?”

  “No.”

  “Have some terrible disease?”

  “No.”

>   “Then, whatever it is can wait. My prayers have been answered. I’ve waited long enough.”

  “Prayers?” She cocked an eyebrow.

  “I’ve been living in darkness for so long. Everything’s a giant void. I need to touch you, feel you against me. You don’t know how hard this is. I need to feel life.”

  “You’re right. I have no idea what you’re going through.”

  “It’s Hell. I don’t like to complain. No one to complain to anyway. The nurses here work real hard. I try not to make their job harder.”

  “It’s lonely?”

  “That’s putting it mildly. It’s like living in a black hole.”

  Jory’s eyes watered. She cupped his cheek. Trent turned his head to kiss her palm.

  “I’m here,” she uttered in a shaky voice. That clinched it. She’d have to keep her secret, because he needed her, no matter who she was, and she refused to disappoint him.

  He reached out, and she met him half way. He walked his fingers along her jaw, pulling her lips to his. He angled his head to deepen the kiss. Fire started inside, taking control of her mind and heart, pushing out all other thoughts.

  She broke first, to lower his hand to her chest. He fumbled with the buttons on her blouse.

  “Help a guy out here.”

  “You’re doing fine. Good practice.”

  “Practice? You mean, we’re going to do this again?” For as long as we can.

  “I don’t want to hurry, but…” he said, pushing himself to a more vertical sitting position.

  “How can we do this at all? With your bandages, cast, and all?”

  “Carefully. Very carefully.” He slipped his hospital gown down and off his torso.

  Jory sucked in air at the sight of him. He was all muscle. His pecs were firm and covered lightly with dark hair, tempting her fingers.

  “Wow. You’re really…fit.” She flattened her palm on him.

  “No fair. You get to see me, and I don’t get to see you.”

  “You’re…amazing. In shape. Good shape.” She nodded.

  “I have your picture. I can see you in my mind. But you’re dressed!”

  A pang of guilt shot through her, but she brushed it aside. “Barely,” she said, heat suffusing her cheeks. “Use your imagination.”

  He laughed. “Come closer.” He patted the bed next to him.

  She slipped her top off and shucked her shoes. After he moved over, she removed her skirt, folded it carefully, put it on the chair, and climbed on.

  “What are you wearing?”

  “Panties and a bra.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Uh huh.”

  He waved his arm in front of her. She nabbed his wrist and guided his hand to her waist. He tickled her, sliding his palm up. His strong arm drew her to him. His hand snaked around behind her and unhooked her bra. She let it fall. He closed his fingers around her breasts, eliciting a groan from her.

  “Yes,” she muttered.

  “You’re soft.” He lowered his face to nuzzle her flesh, but couldn’t get all the way down.

  Jory pushed herself higher, allowing him to kiss and fondle her. He mumbled small compliments as he explored her body. She drank in the scent of aftershave mixed with soap and Trent’s maleness.

  Jory slid her hands down his back, digging her fingertips into his muscles a bit, skirting any cuts and bruises, trying not to hurt him.

  “I don’t know what parts of you are sore and what aren’t,” she whispered in his ear.

  “My hands, my lips and my dick are okay.”

  She giggled as he lifted her breast to his mouth. Jory shifted, pulling her legs up under her, sitting on her haunches. She arched her back, making her chest more easily reached by the staff sergeant.

  His hands gripped her hips, raising her to his lap. A hiss of pain escaped his mouth. “Careful! Move forward. Sit on my stomach.”

  She followed his order, sliding her hips away from his thigh. She placed her hands on his pecs, leaning there to steady herself. He rebalanced his weight, feeling around until he palmed her butt then squeezed.

  “Take ’em off. Please.”

  “What?”

  “The panties. They gotta go.”

  “Aye, aye. Is that an order?”

  “Are we gonna play that game?” He cocked his head.

  She giggled. “Just a joke. Whatever you say.”

  “Hmm, a female who knows how to take orders. Sounds good to me.”

  She laughed. Trent swung his hand toward the nightstand.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “In the drawer.”

  She slid it open and pulled out the packet inside.

  “A condom? Where did that come from?”

  “A good friend who’s been in my shoes.”

  “Who?”

  “Dan,” he said, putting the packet on his chest.

  Her brows shot up, but she stopped herself before speaking. Instead, she lowered her hand to his crotch to find him quite erect.

  He glided his palm down her flat stomach. “The panties. Lose ’em. Please.”

  She bounded off the bed, yanked them down, and tossed them on the chair. “Starkers.”

  He smiled. “Great. Come back. Let me touch you.”

  She grasped his right hand with hers as his left kept his position stable. She smiled to herself that it was kind of like mounting a horse. A very handsome, human horse.

  “You’re so warm,” she said, returning her hands to his chest.

  “You’re making me like that.”

  “Good.”

  “You’re not exactly an iceberg.” He chortled.

  He leaned in to kiss her. Jory aimed her mouth at his as his fingers slid down her thigh to her knee, then up again. His thumb felt for the juncture between her thighs. She tried to part her legs a little without upsetting his position, or falling off the bed, or losing her liplock. Unable to do all three, she sat back.

  “We can’t do everything at once.”

  “You’re right. Save the kissing.” His thumb hit pay dirt.

  Jory closed her eyes. Her head tilted back as he stroked her, easing it inside.

  “You’re wet.”

  “Ya think?”

  He laughed. “Didn’t think a banged up guy like me could get a pretty girl like you going.”

  “Don’t underestimate yourself,” she said, her breathing irregular.

  He repositioned his hand then slipped two fingers in. She gasped.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I? You’re not a virgin, are you?” He quickly withdrew.

  She snickered. “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean? I mean, a beautiful—”

  “Okay, okay. I get it about the beauty part. You can stop. No, you’re not my first lover. Not that I’ve slept with every guy in town, but I’ve had a few relationships. It’s been a while’s all.”

  “Whew. Okay. Where were we?” She guided his hand back to her center, where he resumed exploring.

  “You wouldn’t make love to me if I was a virgin?” She stopped moving.

  “I prefer not to deflower, if possible.”

  “Why?”

  “Too much of a commitment.”

  “Like she’s going to expect marriage?”

  “Something like that.”

  Jory clammed up.

  “Is that good?” he asked, continuing to caress her.

  “It’s amazing. Don’t stop.”

  He chuckled softly. “Love a girl who knows what she wants.” He nipped at her peak, while sliding his fingers in and out in an ever-increasing rhythm.

  She panted. “Let’s do it.” Heat gathered inside, spiraling up, filling her body. She needed him.

  “Wait, you first,” he responded.

  “Why?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Come for me. Come for me, Jory,” he whispered in her ear.

  He lowered his head to give a few hard sucks on her nipple, sending her over the edge. She b
raced herself, curling her fingers around his shoulders, as release claimed her. Her muscles contracted, and her body stiffened. Pleasure flowed through her, to her fingertips, while he continued stroking her.

  As soon as it subsided, she was too sensitive to be touched and pushed his hand away.

  “Did you?”

  “You couldn’t tell?”

  “Can’t see, remember?” There was an edge to his tone.

  “I’m sorry. I meant, I thought you could feel it.”

  “Yeah, wow. Good. Great!”

  “Now, it’s your turn. How can we maneuver this?”

  “I’m gonna need help with this.” He held out the condom.

  He pushed the covers down, releasing his dick, which sprang free. She stared. He looked pretty big. While he leaned back, she ripped the packet open carefully and grasped him.

  “What are you waiting for?” The tension in his voice snapped her to attention.

  “Nothing, nothing. You’re pretty big. I hope it fits.”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry. Never had a problem before.”

  “If you say so.” She took hold of him and slowly unraveled the protection down his shaft.

  He moaned beneath her touch. “Oh, God. Hurry up. I’m gonna come before I even get inside you.”

  “Okay. You’re safe,” she said, tossing the wrapper on the table. “Now what?”

  “You ride me like Roy Rogers rode Trigger.”

  “You mean, like Dale Evens rode whatever her horse’s name was.”

  He chuckled. “Take your pick, honey.”

  She swung her leg around, straddling his hips, but trying to stay away from his cast. By accident, her foot bumped it. He stiffened.

  “I’m sorry, so sorry. Maybe we shouldn’t…”

  His hand groped around her face then rested over her mouth. “It’s okay. A little pain’ll slow this down a bit. Not a bad thing. Are you ready?”

  “Yep.”

  He reached under her and grabbed himself. Her hand closed over his, guiding him to her. Trent rubbed himself up and down a few times to lubricate the condom then eased toward her opening. When she felt him in the right spot, she lowered herself.

  “Holy mother of God!” he said.