Полная версия
Until We Touch
Sure enough she started on his right side. He wasn’t sure if she used her fingers or knuckles or what, but she unerringly found that damned spot every time and pushed to what felt like the center of his pelvis bone. The pain was sharp and white, almost like a knife. Nerve pain, he thought, recognizing the difference. He began to tense. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, there was a sudden absence of pain and he went limp.
Larissa walked around to the other side of the table and rested her hand on the small of his back, as if silently telling him she was there. Her fingers slipped down the side of his hip then up to his butt where she dug in again. Her free hand rested on the back of his thigh.
Did she always do that? Rest her hand there? Because it felt nice. She had good hands. Strong. The way she moved them. There was a confidence a guy could get used to. If she would just move that other hand a little higher and toward the center. If he parted his legs a little she could—
The sharp pain grew, but it wasn’t enough to distract him, and when it faded, there was a new ache in its place. A growing ache that he couldn’t immediately place. It was as if—
Jack silently swore as he realized he had an erection. What the hell? Now? During a massage? What was he—fifteen?
Stop it, he told himself. No way could he be aroused. Not like this. He never had been before. Okay, maybe a couple of times when it had been a long time between women, but then he thought about his relationship with Larissa and knew that was never going to happen. They were friends. He cared about her. He knew better than to sleep with someone he cared about.
The realization had always been enough to take care of the problem. But it wasn’t today. The more he thought he shouldn’t, the bigger he got. The more he told himself not to, the more he imagined what it would be like. Her hands moving all over him. Him touching her in return. His mouth exploring every part of her before he settled between her thighs and—
Shit!
Without having anything close to a plan, he grabbed the sheet below him and pulled it free of the pad. It came up easily.
“Jack?” Larissa stepped back from the table. “What are you doing?”
“I have to go,” he said, scrambling to his feet. He was careful to keep the sheet bunched around his raging hard-on and then bolted.
The locker room was across the hall. He raced inside, then headed directly for the showers. He turned on the cold water, then stepped into the spray.
Ten minutes later, order had been restored in his personal universe. Jack dried off and dressed. He picked up the soggy shoulder wrap and wondered how he was going to explain what had happened to Larissa. Maybe he could tell her he got sick. Would she believe that?
The locker room door opened. Jack groaned and turned, prepared to lie his way out of the problem. But luck was with him and instead of Larissa, he saw Kenny strolling toward him.
“What?” his friend demanded. “Larissa is out there, wringing her hands. She says you ran away without an explanation.” Kenny put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Bro, she’s worried. What’s up?”
Not the best choice of words, Jack thought, not sure if he was going to laugh or start swearing again.
He dropped the soggy pack onto the bench and settled next to it. He rested his head in his hands.
“I got a boner during the massage,” he admitted.
Kenny snickered. “Seriously? That’s what all the fuss is about? It happens. It’s no big deal.”
Jack dropped his hands and glanced at his friend. Kenny’s blue eyes were filled with amusement.
“You, too?” Jack asked.
“Sure. Larissa doesn’t care. We joke about it. Eventually it goes away. Why did this time freak you out?”
“Because I don’t usually have that problem.”
“You and Sam,” Kenny said. “You make things too complicated. Look, you’re not seeing anyone, you’re naked and a beautiful woman is rubbing on you. Biology, man. It’s all about biology.”
Maybe, Jack thought, but that didn’t explain why he felt so strange about it all.
“She’s out there, worrying,” Kenny told him. “Tell her you’re fine.”
“You do it.”
Kenny shook his head. “You’re making this more than it is. If you don’t talk about it now, you’re going to have to explain it later. It’s not going to get easier with time.”
Jack shrugged. That was a problem he would deal with when he had to. Until he figured out what had happened, avoiding Larissa seemed like a damned good plan.
* * *
LARISSA WALKED UP the front walk of Jack’s house. The imposing two-story structure was elegant. One of several sleek custom homes on the golf course. The yard was perfectly manicured, the windows large, the paint fresh. Jack was a big believer in hiring the right person for the job and it showed. Everything in his life was well tended.
So not her style, she thought as she crossed to the front door, knocked once and then let herself in. Because the door was almost never locked.
“It’s me,” she called as she entered. “Jack?”
She knew he was here. His Mercedes was in the driveway. Still, she half expected him not to answer, mostly because he’d been avoiding her all day.
She didn’t like that. Didn’t like him running out of her massage and then not talking to her. To quote her mom’s favorite movie, “There was a great disturbance in the Force.” She’d been restless and on edge. Kenny’s assurances that Jack was fine hadn’t helped at all.
She heard something and looked up. Jack stood on the landing of the second floor. He’d changed into jeans and T-shirt. He looked tired, she thought. And in pain.
She put her hands on her hips. “What?” she demanded. “Tell me what happened. I’m not leaving here until you do.”
He walked down the stairs toward her. For the first time in years, she was unable to read his face. How could she not know what Jack was thinking?
“You’re scaring me,” she admitted. “Are you mad at me or something? We have to talk. This isn’t right.”
He reached the main floor. He wasn’t wearing shoes, but he was still taller than her. And oddly broad across the shoulders. A guy, she thought. Jack, the guy, made her nervous. She did much better with Jack, her friend.
“Say something,” she told him.
He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and sighed. “I’m not mad.”
“Okay.” That was good. “So?”
His dark gaze settled on her face. “I got a hard-on during the massage. I don’t usually. I didn’t know what to do, so I left.”
Ran was more like it, she thought before her brain went to a completely different place.
A hard-on? As in an erection? As in arousal? He was still talking but she wasn’t listening. Not when there was so much to process.
She knew the women in Jack’s life. Not personally, of course. While she met them, they didn’t hang out or anything. It probably took too much time to be so beautiful for them to have friends. His women were all models or actresses. There was also the unfortunate two months of him dating a Playboy bunny. She’d been a stunning girl, but not so much in the conversation department.
Larissa got it. Jack liked beautiful women. Why wouldn’t he? They were available. Which was probably why she was having trouble with the idea of him being aroused because of her. She knew that she was pretty enough, but firmly in the normal category. He was used to perfection and she was just kind of...ordinary. So how could he have gotten turned on by her?
She supposed it was because he hadn’t had a girlfriend for a while. He’d been in Fool’s Gold and there was no sneaking around here.
“...asked Kenny to talk to you,” he finished.
She’d missed the middle bit, but figured that was fine.
“That sort of thing happens,” she told him, still confused but willing to go with it. “They cover it in massage school. Sam never does, but Kenny’s pretty regular. We joke about it and then it’s gone. It’s a biological function. I know it’s not personal.”
Jack’s guarded expression started to relax. “You’re okay with that?”
“Sure. I was touching you intimately. We know each other. We’re friends. You’re comfortable. You got a little too relaxed.”
She was saying all the right things. The professional things. But what she was really thinking was that she kind of wouldn’t mind for it to be personal. She’d kind of like him saying he’d been swept away.
Even as the thoughts formed, she mentally retreated from them. What on earth? Where had that come from? She and Jack were friends. She liked him, but not that way.
He touched her arm. Just a light touch, but it seemed to burn all the way to her gut.
“Thanks,” he said sincerely. “Why didn’t I come talk to you earlier?”
“You didn’t come talk to me now. I came to you.”
He flashed her a smile. A sweet sexy smile that made her knees weak.
“Right as always,” he told her. “Come on. I’ll buy you a glass of wine.”
She automatically followed him into his big, open kitchen. He pulled a bottle of merlot from the built-in wine cellar and walked to the drawer that held the opener. She collected glasses. Because they’d done this a thousand times before, they had a ritual. A ritual she liked.
Only tonight she wanted something different. She wanted him to pull her close and kiss her and... Well, she wasn’t exactly sure what they would do next, but she wasn’t feeling that picky. As long as it was Jack, she was happy.
For the second time in as many minutes, she was mentally backtracking. No, she told herself firmly. They weren’t involved. They never had been. She’d learned that lesson early and she’d learned it well. Jack was heartache. Jack wanted the most beautiful woman in the room...for fifteen minutes. And then he was done. He wanted sex and easy conversation—he didn’t want to get involved. And she...she didn’t know what she wanted but it wasn’t that. Was it?
She took the glass of wine he offered and followed him into the big open living room. When they watched movies they went downstairs to the media room. Because Jack had, if not the biggest house in town, then one that was certainly close. Five or six bedrooms, a fully finished basement, a three-car garage. He had space and gadgets and lots of shiny surfaces. But sometimes she wondered if he ever got lonely in his big house.
His place in L.A. had been similar. Maybe that explained all the fast-food women he favored. He got to pretend he was a part of something, even for a few hours, and then didn’t have any relationship messiness.
There was a large curved sofa facing a massive fireplace. Paintings hung on the walls. Real paintings of beaches and trees. Not quasi–pop art representations of him playing football.
She spotted a small oil painting by the antique writing desk in the corner.
“Is that new?” she asked. She put down her glass of wine and walked to study it.
The colors were all shades of the ocean and forest. There was a rough sea and an island beyond. She could barely make out the tiny sign by the boats. “Blackberry Island Marina.”
“When did you get this?” she asked, turning to face him.
He set his wine next to hers and grinned. “You don’t know everything about me.”
“I usually do, but this is unexpected.” Her smile widened. “You have a secret life.”
“I wish. A little privacy in this town would be nice, but I’m not holding my breath.”
She returned to stand next to him. “What would you want to keep private? It’s nice that we know everything about each other.”
“It’s a guy thing.”
She rolled her eyes. “A convenient fallback statement that has no basis in reality. You’re trying to distract me and it’s not going to work.”
“Larissa, if I wanted to distract you, there are better ways.”
He was being fun. Or playful. She knew that, because she knew Jack. But when he made that statement, in a firm voice that was both teasing and slightly sexy, she could only think of one thing.
Her muscles tensed even as her gaze involuntarily settled on his mouth. Breathing was tough and the only thought she could hold on to was an intense desire to have him kiss her. Not on the cheek or the forehead, like he usually did. She wanted him to kiss her on the mouth. Like he meant it.
Jack’s startled expression quickly changed to something she couldn’t read. He took a step back and held up his arms, as if warding her off. But in the next movement, he grabbed her, hauled her against him, then pressed his mouth to hers.
The contact was unexpected and exactly what she wanted. She went willingly into his embrace. Her hands settled on his broad shoulders as her thighs nestled against his. But the best part was how he kissed her.
Gently, at first. Light, barely touching, then more firmly. His mouth lingered. Her eyes sank closed as she melted against him. Yes, he was definitely lingering, she thought. Lingering and moving back and forth. There was a tenderness, but also a hint of something else. Something more.
Heat began to bubble deep in her chest. It flowed in all directions, making her body warm and sensitive to every touch. His fingers stroked her back, holding her with just the right amount of pressure. Thinking became more difficult and the world reduced itself to this man and what he was doing to her.
His tongue brushed against her bottom lip. She sucked in her breath even as she parted for him. He slipped inside. The kiss deepened and then they were straining against each other. She moved her hands up and down his back, wanting more. Needing him to touch her everywhere. He responded in kind. One hand slipped to her rear while the other slipped around her waist and up her rib cage until it settled on her left breast. His fingers brushed against her tight nipple. Electricity shot through her and she jumped back.
They stared at each other, both breathing hard. Passion darkened his eyes. It made her tremble. She tried to speak, but honest to God, what was there to say? Larissa did the only thing that made sense. This time it was her turn to run.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I KISSED JACK.”
Larissa supposed “Hi” or “Can I come in?” was a more conventional greeting, but the words just sort of spilled out. Bailey stared at her a second before motioning her into her small house.
“Wow,” her friend said. “I’d been thinking I was going to have a quiet, if slightly boring, evening at home while Chloe is with one of her friends, and then you come along. Well done.”
“I’m sorry,” Larissa breathed. “Is this an okay time?”
“Of course. Like I said, Chloe’s gone. And you are better than anything on TV. Let’s go into the kitchen. I have some very cheap wine and I made brownies yesterday.”
Another offer of wine, Larissa thought, determined to actually taste it this time.
She followed Bailey into her kitchen. The contrast between the open, modern new space at Jack’s place and this tiny, aging but homey one couldn’t have been greater. Here the counters were yellow and green tile—a holdout from the previous century. The cabinets had seen better days and there was barely room for a tiny table and chairs.
Yet the room felt cozy. There were dozens of brightly colored drawings held to the front of the refrigerator with magnets. A big, bright calendar dominated one wall. It showed lots of activities and dates with friends.
Larissa inhaled slowly and started to relax. Nothing too horrible had happened. Nothing that she couldn’t recover from. Order and balance would be restored. And if they weren’t, she would find another cause and lose herself in that.
Bailey unscrewed the top on the wine and poured them each a glass, then set out a plate of brownies. They sat across from each other at the tiny table. Bailey leaned forward and grinned.
“Okay, start at the beginning. How long have you and Jack been kissing?”
Larissa groaned and covered her face with her hands. “We haven’t. Ever.” She straightened and reached for her wine. “It just happened.”
“When?”
“Like twenty minutes ago. We were talking and then we were kissing.” At least she thought that was how it had happened. The memory was already blurring. At least the memory of the conversation—not the one of the kiss itself. That had been spectacular.
“It’s all my mother’s fault,” she added.
“Telling Jack you were in love with him?” Bailey’s voice was sympathetic. “Yeah, I heard about that. And I can sure see how that would change things. Even if it’s not true, you’re suddenly aware of everything happening with Jack. It’s awkward.” She reached for a brownie. “Unless you are in love with him.”
Larissa grabbed a brownie for herself. “I’m not. I swear. I like Jack. He’s a great guy. But like isn’t love.”
“He’s very sexy. Is that the problem? It’s not love, but something more...earthy?” Bailey smiled. “I’m trying to be subtle. It’s not my greatest strength.”
“I can see that.” Larissa considered the question. “Do I want to have sex with Jack?”
“You did kiss him and sex is nice.”
Larissa stared at her. “Wow. Do you want to have sex with Jack?”
Bailey had just taken a bite of her brownie. She shook her head as she chewed. When she swallowed, she said, “No, he’s all yours. It’s just sometimes having a warm body in the bed can be really great.”
Larissa remembered that Bailey’s husband had been killed in Afghanistan. While it had been over a year ago, she was sure the memories of the loss were still fresh.
“Is there someone else you want to sleep with?” she asked quietly.
“We’re not here to talk about me,” Bailey reminded her. “You’re the one who showed up and announced the kiss. Speaking of which, how did you leave things with him?”
Larissa took a sip of her wine. She was going to need more than a glass to forget that particular memory. “I ran.”
“As in...”
“I just took off. Yeah, not my finest hour. I didn’t know what to say. We’re not supposed to kiss. We’re friends. I depend on him to be there for me.”
“Doesn’t kissing mean he’s totally there?”
Despite everything, Larissa smiled. “Now you’re making me feel better and I’m not sure that’s allowed.” The smile faded. “This is so crazy.”
“Why?” Bailey asked. “You work in really close quarters with three hunky guys who run around naked.”
The smile returned. “They don’t run around naked.”
“Practically. I’ve heard the stories of meetings in the steam room. Taryn talks about it. Plus, you give them massages. I think the real surprise is that it took so long for one of them to come to his senses and kiss you.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
Bailey sighed dramatically. “Have you seen yourself? You’re this tall, leggy blonde with big blue eyes and a tiny butt. It’s discouraging for the rest of us.”
The description was so at odds with how Larissa viewed herself that she wanted to turn and see if there was someone standing behind her.
“I’m boring and normal,” Larissa pointed out. “I wear yoga pants all the time and never bother with makeup.”
“Yoga pants that show off your perfection. I, on the other hand, am carrying around twenty-five extra pounds.” She reached for another brownie. “Pounds I have accepted as a permanent part of my life.”
Larissa looked at her friend. Bailey was a beautiful redhead with lush curves and a sexy twinkle in her green eyes. She would imagine most of the single men in town were trying to figure out how to get her attention.
“You’re sweet, but I’m not all that,” she said.
“Uh-huh. We could take a survey.” Bailey tilted her head. “Unless you are secretly in love with Jack.”
Larissa finished her glass of wine and reached for the bottle. “I’m so not and I swear, next time I see her, I’m going to kill my mother.”
Bailey smiled. “Unlikely.”
“I know.” She sighed. “So what do I do about the kiss?”
Bailey considered the question. “What do you want to do about it?”
“Pretend it never happened.”
“That sounds like a plan to me.”
* * *
WHILE KENNY HANDLED company-wide staff meetings, Taryn was firmly in charge of partner meetings. Both of which happened far too often for Jack’s peace of mind. Did they really all need to know what the other was doing? Apparently so, which was why he found himself sitting in Taryn’s office, listening to her go on about the status of various client projects.
Normally he found this kind of thing interesting, but not today. Not when he was wrestling with the fact that he and Larissa had kissed. What the hell? He wasn’t even sure how it had happened. One second they’d been joking and talking like always and the next she’d looked at him with an expression he’d never seen before. Okay, he’d seen it before, but not from her. And not like that.
She’d wanted him. That had been clear. And being wanted by Larissa had been irresistible. Of course, he’d been dealing with his own crap about the erection, so maybe she’d seen something in him that had triggered her feelings and that had led to the kiss.
He tried to tell himself it was just a kiss; only, could it be just that where Larissa was concerned? As far as he knew, she was careful about who she kissed. Which meant what?
Crap. It was all crap. And if his mind kept running in circles like some damned hamster on a wheel, he was probably going to turn into a woman.
“Jack,” Taryn said, her voice cool. “Do you mind joining us for the meeting today?”
He looked up, startled. “What?”
His business partner glared at him. “You’re somewhere else. Do you care to share with the rest of the class? There’s obviously a problem.”
They all knew? How was that possible?
Kenny sniggered. “Jack got a boner during his massage yesterday. It freaked him out.”
Jack nearly corrected him by saying the real problem was the kiss, but stopped himself in time.
Taryn rolled her eyes. “Seriously? That’s what has you distracted? It can’t be the first time it’s happened.”
“Not in life,” Jack said stiffly. “You would know that personally.”
She drew in a breath, obviously trying to be patient. “Yes, I’m aware that sexually, you’re a functioning male. If only it were true in the rest of your world. I was saying I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before during a massage.”
“I don’t get a boner when I get a massage,” Sam said.
Taryn barely spared him a glance. “No one here is shocked by that.”
“Hey, what does that mean?”
Taryn’s grip on her papers tightened. She looked at Sam. “That you have extraordinary powers of control, Sam.”
“Oh. Okay. I accept that.”
“It happens to me all the time,” Kenny admitted cheerfully. “I’m naked. She’s touching me. It’s nice.”
“And the road from nice to boner is less than three seconds?” Taryn asked.
Kenny grinned unapologetically. “Sue me.”
Taryn turned to Jack. “Did you talk to Larissa about it?”
“Yes. We’re fine. Let’s change the subject.”
“Fine by me.” She sighed. “I find you all desperately annoying. You know that, right?”
Sam grinned. “It’s what keeps us going.”
* * *
PATIENCE GARRETT HURRIED toward Larissa. The other woman was obviously excited and grabbed both of Larissa’s hands when they met on the sidewalk.
“There’s been a sighting,” Patience announced.
“Of a yeti?”
“What? No. Of course not. Oh, look. There’s Isabel.” Patience waved, as if to hurry her friend.
About fifteen minutes ago Patience had called Larissa and told her to meet her outside of Jo’s Bar immediately. Apparently others had also received a call.
Isabel practically ran up the street. “Is it true?” she asked when she reached them. “There’s been a sighting?”
“Of what?” Larissa demanded. “What are you talking about?”
Patience still had hold of her hands. She squeezed them and practically danced with excitement. “Zane Nicholson.”
Larissa wasn’t one to follow the gossip magazines. From knowing the guys, she understood everything the publications got wrong. But she thought she had at least a working knowledge of most major celebrities.