Chapter Fifteen
“A man who knocks on your door late at night likely needs one of two things: (1) your help, or (2) you. Whatever his needs are, you’re the one in charge.”
—Blu Johnson, life lesson #79
The knock was more of a weak tap than a sturdy let-me-in, but Cal couldn’t muster the energy to put anything else behind it. It must have done the job, though, because a few seconds later footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, then a light flickered to life. It cast a soft glow through the six panes of glass at the top of the wooden door, and unsure eyes met his through the lower row of windows. Cal didn’t so much as offer a smile.
The dead bolt snapped open, and Jill stood before him in black leggings and a navy tank.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked.
She shook her head, but he didn’t miss the questions in her eyes. It was after eleven. Most people didn’t knock on others’ doors this late in the evening without an invite, and he probably looked as if he couldn’t stand upright for another minute. But he knew he’d chosen correctly in showing up there.
“How’s Rodney?” she asked.
“Rodney’s a drunk.” He’d never said that out loud before today, but this made the third time in the last few hours. “I just dropped him off at a rehab center over in San Marcos.”
Just looking at her made him feel better.
“He’ll be there at least two months,” he continued. “My guess is longer.”
“I’m sorry.” Her soft voice was laced with sincerity. “I know that had to be hard on you.” She shifted on her feet before taking a half step back. “Did you want to come in and talk about it?”
“No. I don’t want to talk about my uncle.” He eyed the room behind her. “I want to talk about you.”
“Okay. Then talk.”
He brought his gaze back to hers. “You were going to kiss me today.”
She nodded. “I was.”
“You also told Patrick that you aren’t angry anymore.”
“I did that, too.”
“Did you mean it?”
“Are you asking if we can have sex?”
Her directness comforted him. He didn’t say another word, just nodded in reply, and she stepped back and opened the door wider.
Neither of them spoke. She closed the door behind him, he tugged her tank top over her head, and they came together in each other’s arms. A groan ripped from him as his arms closed around her, his hands flattening against the heat of her back. It had been far too long since he’d had this. Since he’d had her.
His mouth sought out hers, desperation driving him to move too fast, but she seemed to suffer from the same affliction. Her movements were jerky, the noises coming from her anguished as she tugged at his shirt, the material not freeing from his jeans fast enough to suit her. But when the task was finally accomplished, she shoved the shirt up just enough so that she could fit her bare torso to his. And then it was her turn to moan.
Cal palmed her butt, lifting her to her toes, and she clamped her legs around his waist.
“Down the hall,” she ordered.
He turned without another thought.
He soon found the bed, and once he had her on it, he had a demand of his own.
“Light.” He had to see her.
She pointed to the reading lamp clipped onto the headboard, and as he reached for the switch, she found the snap of his jeans. Jeans and boxers circled his knees before he realized he’d quit moving to absorb the feeling of Jill’s hands sliding over him. The pads of her fingers had a slight roughness to them. A testament to her career. But they caressed with a gentleness that could undo a man.
He finally forced himself to move. He kicked off his shoes, then he rolled to his back and ripped his shirt over his head, while Jill tugged at his jeans. Two seconds later he lay bared before her, erection pointing toward the ceiling, while she straddled his thighs. Her chest heaved with her breaths, the navy bra covering only the bottom halves of her breasts, and his erection neared painful. She was a goddess. Black hair fell over her shoulders, reaching to just inside the cups of her bra, and teasing at what lay underneath. Her lips were lush and parted. And her gaze remained glued to his most active part.
“I’ve missed this,” he confided. “So much.”
She was the most glorious thing Cal had ever seen.
She dragged her eyes up to his. “You’re not going to miss it for much longer.”
The words came out hoarse, and Cal reached for her, unable to keep his hands from her a second longer.
The bra was first. One twist of his wrist, and he had the straps to her elbows.
Pert breasts met his torso, her nipples scraping along the hairs of his chest, and the air left his body.
“Jill,” he begged. He buried his mouth against her neck and held her tight.
He wanted this to last forever. Only, there was no way he could wait.
When he eased them apart, intending to rid her of the remainder of her clothing, she stole the lead. She flipped to her back, making quick work of her leggings and the tiny scrap of material underneath, so he dove for the condom in his jeans. When he rolled back to her, Jill rose above him before he could stop her, then she pinned him in place, her toned thighs straddling his once again. With her back straight, her breasts high and proud, and her eyes burning hot in the small room, he once again thought, Goddess. She was strength and heat, and so much passion. There’d never been another like her.
“I was going to be the one in charge,” he panted out. He couldn’t catch his breath.
He couldn’t believe he’d knocked on her door only two minutes before.
“Then you should have moved faster.”
But he caught her off guard when she made the critical error in dropping her gaze to his dick once more, flipping her so that she was now the one on the bottom. And he didn’t intend for that to change again. Not until he wanted it to.
She was spread beneath him, naked and spectacular, and though he wanted to take his time, to drink his fill, feasting was more important. This was Jill. This was what he’d been waiting years for.
Pink nipples pouted up at him, so he started there, and Jill called out in pleasure at the first touch. Her back arched as his lips raked over her, and he swore he grew another two inches.
“Cal.” She breathed out his name. Her fingers buried in his butt cheeks as he continued to work her breasts, and when he squeezed her, sucking a nipple deep into his mouth, she shouted out again. She sounded close already, and he’d just gotten started.
He focused, working her with lips and tongue and teeth, and well before he switched to her other breast, she began to thrust. As her heat ground into his balls, it was all he could do not to bite down too hard on her sensitive flesh.
“Please,” she sobbed out a plea. Her eyes were closed tight. “I need . . .”
He needed, too.
But he remained on top of her, not parting her legs and not diving inside, although everything inside him demanded he do nothing else. Instead, he thought about Jill. He wanted to please her. He wanted to make sure she thought of him. Always.
And he wanted her screaming his name as she came.
“I . . .” She gasped. “Can’t . . .”
Her chest arched up off the bed, and Cal released her, his mouth retreating only until she lowered and sucked in a breath, then she once again ground herself against him. He gave up the fight. His Jill was ready to blow.
With breaths coming in short bursts and her head rocking back and forth, Cal inched his hand lower.
She gasped again, as if anticipating what was to come, and he kept his eyes locked on her. He wanted to watch her fall apart at his touch.
“Cal,” she whispered, the word coming out with a whimper.
“I’ve got you,” he promised.
He parted her with his middle finger then, and her movements stopped. Her mouth opened slightly, as if to speak, but nothing came out. So he pushed in a second finger.
Her body began to vibrate.
He didn’t let up. He circled his thumb over her. Once. Twice. Just barely grazing her flesh. Then with one final move, he pressed where she needed it most, and she broke. And she screamed out his name.
Cal held on as Jill shook in his arms, and he fought not to follow her over the cliff. Not yet. There would be time for that later. And only when she finally began to calm did he slide up her sweat-slicked body, and he fused his mouth to hers.
Jill fell to the bed sometime later, face-first and ass up, and couldn’t bring herself to move another inch. Good. Lord.
The low chuckle that sounded just inches from her ear was both irritating and sexy as hell. The man had improved over the years, and he knew it. But then, she hadn’t exactly been a hard nut to crack tonight, either. Pretty much one touch, and . . . poof.
She giggled at the thought and managed to roll to her side. She remained curled in a fetal position, but she could now see Cal. And he looked just as blown away as she felt. After he’d gotten her off the first time, she’d tried to take over, but he’d refused. His theory had been that if he could do that to her that fast and that explosively, then he should be able to do it again. Maybe even faster the next time.
So he had.
But then she’d caught him in a weakened state—likely trying not to come after she’d bellowed out his name, yet again—and she’d pushed him to his back. It had all been over at that point.
She slid a palm over his chest, winding a finger through the narrow patch of hair. “What a way to be greeted at the door.”
He made a little grunt of a sound beside her, and she wiggled her way up the sheets so that she lay with her head on her pillow. He turned his face to hers, and she couldn’t hold back a goofy smile.
“You don’t even know how long it’s been since I’ve done that.”
“My guess would be not nearly long enough,” Cal grumbled. He scowled, but rolled to his side so he lay facing her. “I still can’t believe you went out with Little Red last weekend.”
She shot him an incredulous look. “Really? We’re lying here naked and sweaty, and you want to talk about me and another man?”
“I’m just saying that I can’t believe that’s who you’d choose to go out with. Little Red.” He harrumphed.
“Doug is a very good guy.” She refused to call the younger man by what he considered to be a derogatory name while in bed with someone who wanted to be derogatory to him. “Plus, it was your idea for me to go out with him to begin with.”
Cal shot to a sitting position. “How in the hell was it my idea?”
“You asked me if I ever dated.”
“And that’s why you went out with him? Shit, Jill. You could have just—”
She couldn’t hold in the giggle any longer. “Man, you’re fun. Where did this jealous streak come from? And no, actually, lest you decide your actions speak louder than they do, you are not the reason I went out with Doug Caldwell. I went because I had to. I was outvoted.”
“You were—” His scowl grew even darker. “Is this you messing with me again?”
She shook her head. “Serious as a heart attack. Aunt Blu, Heather, and Trenton all voted yes after Doug expressed his most sincere desire to wine and dine me. So, I had to go.”
Incredulity shone back at her. “You let them vote on whether you would go out with the man or not?”
“I didn’t let them. It was out of my hands.”
“The four of you are certifiable. You do know that, right?” He settled back down on the sheet beside her. “Was this, by chance, during drunk rummy?”
“It’s whiskey rummy.” She rolled to her back and spoke to the ceiling. “And yes, it was. But a vote counts, no matter the circumstance. Just like, if we’d won the coin toss the day we chose houses, I would have had to concede to taking Mrs. Wainwright’s house. Because Heather and Trenton had outvoted me.”
Cal looked at her again, and she removed her focus from the ceiling to peer over at him. She could stare at his eyes for days.
“You three grew apart for a while, right?”
She nodded at his subdued tone. “We all had to do our thing. Try to prove we were more than orphans, you know? More than . . . kids whose parents had left us,” she finished softly. Heather was the only one whose parents hadn’t chosen to go, but that hadn’t made it any easier.
“Looks to me like you’ve proven it.”
“Some days are better than others. But we don’t stop trying.”
Cal captured her hand, holding it against the bed, in the space between their hips. “I’m glad you found each other again.”
“I am, too. Aunt Blu, as well.”
She struggled to believe she’d ever thought she didn’t need her foster mother, but she’d go to her grave thanking the powers that be for keeping Aunt Blu there for when she returned.
They both grew quiet, both in their own thoughts. Cal’s thumb stroked over hers as he lay there, and Jill ended up scooting in closer and tucking her head against his shoulder. He brought his other hand up and slid his palm over the back of her head.
“I love your hair,” he murmured absently.
“I know.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You always did.”
“I can always spot you in a crowd. Even when I’m not trying.”
She lifted her head. “And have you tried often?”
He didn’t let her see his eyes. Nor did he answer her question.
He tucked her against his chest and smoothed a hand down her back, and after several additional minutes of silence, his roving hand stalled at her waist. His thumb began to move over her skin in small circles, and she could practically hear him thinking. What she didn’t know was what he was thinking about.
It didn’t take long to find out, though.
“So, how long has it been since you’ve done this?”
She hid a smile in his chest. She might have known his ego wouldn’t let that remain a mystery. “Do you mean sex?” she asked innocently. “Like . . . with a man? Or . . .”
He lifted his head from the pillow. “Have you had sex with a woman?”
The mixed expression of shock, horror, and hope staring back at her was hilarious. She lifted a hand and gave a simultaneous waggle of her fingers and eyebrows, and his eyes rounded with understanding. Then his gaze lowered from her fingers to her crotch, and a low growl rumbled from inside him.
“You’re too easy.” She patted his chest. “Down, boy. And to answer your question, it’ll be exactly twelve years three weeks from today.”
The look of reemerging desire disappeared in a heartbeat. “Jill . . .”
He said nothing else. Just looked at her, and she gave a little nod. No one else but him. She’d spent the year after her mother died doing anything and everything with any boy who’d asked—and some who hadn’t asked. She’d been trying to prove herself still alive. Or maybe punish herself for still being alive. And the boys had discovered that if they got her good and angry first—which hadn’t been hard to do—the sex would be even hotter. So they always got her angry.
But the day Cal had given her that sledgehammer, her outlook had changed forever.
She’d also had sex with Cal that afternoon. Only, he’d held her afterward while she’d cried. She’d never done that before, but she’d hated herself that day—she’d hated herself every day—and she hadn’t been able to hold it in any longer.
She’d hated her mother, the world, and basically everyone who ever spoke to her.
But what she’d detested the most was the person she could see she would be at the end of her one-way path to destruction. She hadn’t known exactly who she wanted to be when she grew up, but she’d known who she didn’t want to be.
Cal had said something so simple to her that day, yet it had changed her life.
Then don’t be that person.
She hadn’t even realized that was an option.
She’d taken his words to heart, though, and she’d never been that girl again. She and Cal had grown as friends after that, and eventually as lovers. As two people in love. And she hadn’t taken sex for granted since.
Except for one night.
She closed her eyes as she added, “Unless you want to count the one time that I almost did.”
Cal kept his hand on her back, but she could feel that he’d gone still. He lay as quiet and unmoving as she. “And when was that?” he asked.
“The night I boarded a bus to come home.”
She pulled in a deep breath, her chest pressing into his, and let it out slowly. She’d never talked about this before, but she wanted to now. In fact, for the first time, she felt she needed to.
She kept her eyes closed as she drifted back to those six years of her life, but she allowed herself to continue touching Cal. She opened her tightened fist and pressed her fingers and palm to his chest, focusing on the heat of his skin touching every inch of hers, and she pulled in one last deep breath as his fingers covered hers.
“I was so angry,” she started. “You know that. I was before I left here, and it only got worse when I headed to California. But I wanted to be an actress so badly. And I thought I could do it. I worked hard to keep my anger inside. I did the exercises the counselor had taught me in the anger-management courses, I took up meditation. I tried. Really, I did. I joined acting classes. I did improv. Whatever I could do to learn the craft, I was there. Of course, I had to get a job to support myself, too. The money I’d saved didn’t go nearly as far as I’d imagined. But I was willing to do whatever it took to be someone. Yet the anger . . .” She blew out a breath. “It would work its way out eventually. Something random would set me off. Or someone. Not getting a part. Not liking what my agent reported back about an audition. Irritation over the way a fellow actor looked at me while I was filming a bit part I finally had landed.”
She laughed drily. “I even lost a few jobs because of something innocuous a customer said. It could truly be anything. I would be good for months, but I swear, the snap always came at the worst possible times. And in front of the worst possible people. But then I got the opportunity I’d been waiting for. A sitcom.” She glanced up at him and named a show still running on a popular cable channel. “I was slated for the lead,” she told him. “I had a callback, and it was down to me and one other person. I had it in the bag.”
“So what happened?”
“To get the part, I had to sleep with the producer.”
His jaw went slack. “Are you kidding me?”
“Come on, you know it happens. More often than people would like to believe. And it wasn’t the first time the idea had been floated by me. But no other part had been worth it before.” She closed her eyes again, and pressed her cheek back over Cal’s heart. “This one, though. It was what I’d been waiting for. It would label me a real actress. But along with that, I was just so tired of almost getting there—but then not quite.” She squeezed her eyes shut tight. “I wanted it so badly.”
She’d left Red Oak Falls wanting to prove herself, but she’d also found that she truly loved acting. It hadn’t just allowed her to not be Jill Sadler, it had given her a self-confidence she’d never known before. Because she’d been good at it. And she’d known it.
“So you slept with him?” Cal’s voice remained calm.
“I started to.” The corners of her mouth turned down. “I can still remember how he tasted. What he smelled like.”
She shuddered.
“He had me down to my panties.” She spoke faster now. “His fingers were heading underneath, he’d been rubbing himself all over me. And I swear, it was as if I were standing beside the bed looking down at myself. So, I looked. And I was fourteen again. Brent Cannon was on top of me, humping me for all he was worth. He was my first time, if I never told you that,” she said, still keeping her eyes tightly closed. “I didn’t even have my clothes off that day. Just skirt up around my waist and panties to my ankles. I was lying on the ground out behind the high school baseball field. We were just out of sight of everyone, and Brent’s friends hooted from the parking lot. And as I stood there that day in LA, looking down at this slimy piece of crap who thought he had the right to demand I spread my legs in order to become someone, I realized that I never wanted to be that someone.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t do it. And I wouldn’t do it. So, I told him to stop.”
“And . . . he didn’t stop?” Cal guessed. She could hear the contained anger in his voice.
“He didn’t at first.”
A muscle jerked under her cheek.
“He said it was too late for that, and then he yanked my panties to my ankles. Just like that day with Brent. He didn’t even take them off me, just down to my ankles, and he shoved my knees apart.”
She pushed up off Cal then and sat cross-legged on the bed. She was completely naked, but it didn’t bother her in the least. This wasn’t LA. It wasn’t the year after her mother died.
“I didn’t want to be that girl,” she told him with no uncertainty. “I hadn’t been her in years, and I would not go back. It was bad enough I was already the girl whose mother had killed herself. The girl who couldn’t stay out of trouble as a kid. Who continued having anger issues well into adulthood, and likely always would. Who knew it was her fault that her mother had killed herself.” Her voice cracked, and Cal gripped her hand.
“No,” he tried to interrupt her, but she kept going.
“I didn’t want to be the girl who slept her way to an acting career, too,” she finished.
His eyes never broke contact with hers. “What happened?”
She knew he was trying to help push her through to the end. She knew he wanted to correct her statement that it was her fault that her mother had killed herself.
But she also knew he was wrong. She’d been there that day. She’d been to blame.
“I punched him in the nose,” she told him matter-of-factly. And then she laughed.
Her entire body shook with the laughter, and she found herself swiping at her eyes.
“I punched the asshole in the nose,” she repeated. “Blood went everywhere. And I swear, if I’d had a sledgehammer, I’d have never gotten out of jail for what I would’ve done to that man.”
She tunneled her fingers into her hair and pulled, tilting her face up to the ceiling.
“He cried like a baby, Cal. Screamed that I hadn’t known what I’d just done. But I knew who he was in the business, and I also knew there was no way I would ever get an opportunity like that again.” She dropped her hands to her sides, and Cal immediately took one again. “I didn’t even call my agent to tell her I was leaving. I grabbed my clothes, put them on after I got out of the hotel room, and I boarded the next bus home. I was out of money anyway, and I missed Texas something terrible.”
She’d stopped by her apartment long enough to grab the only thing she’d cared about before leaving. The African violet Aunt Blu had given her the day she’d left town. She’d taken the plant to Vegas with her, and it sat on her kitchen windowsill to that day. Aunt Blu graced every girl who passed through her home with a plant.
“So you missed home?” Cal asked, bringing her back to the moment.
Jill nodded. “I did. Texas. Aunt Blu.” She looked at him. “You.”
His brows twitched. “You never told me that.”
“Well, I also hated you. But I missed you, too. And good Lord, the humiliation I felt. Six years out there, and for what?”
He cupped her cheek. “And I’d told you I’d be here waiting for you to come crawling back to me.”
“You did.” She’d hated him for those words. “But I never crawl.”
“I would never want you to.” He sat up beside her. “I’m so sorry I ever said that to you, Jill. It’s no excuse, but I had no idea you really wanted to be an actress. I thought it was just about . . .”
He let the words drop, and she gave a small shrug. It didn’t matter anymore what he’d said to her that day or what he’d thought when she’d begged him to go with her.
As he’d pointed out in his truck not long ago, they couldn’t go back.
“So, did you ever even look for your dad?” Cal asked.
“No.” Her dad had only really mattered when she’d still thought she could fix her mother. The man hadn’t wanted her . . . she didn’t want him. “He’d just been my excuse, anyway. I never let on how badly I wanted to act, mostly because I was afraid I couldn’t do it.” Or afraid no one would believe in me, she added silently. “And, hey, I proved myself right, didn’t I?”
“No.” Cal pulled her into his lap. “You could have done it. You just got a bad break. Wait until you see this show.” He brought her face to his. “You’re incredible in front of the camera, Jilly. I can’t take my eyes off you. Neither can anyone else on set. And honey, that interview today . . .” He shook his head with awe. “Gold.”
“That interview was a lie,” she said softly.
His mouth flattened. “Which part of it?”
“The part where I said I’m no longer angry.”
“Jill.” He stared at her for a second, dumbfounded, then ran his gaze over the rumpled bed where they’d just had the best sex of her life.
“You left me,” she told him. “And you did it exactly like my mom’s husband left her.”
She thought about the day her mother had killed herself. Jill had screamed for her to “just go ahead and do it” as she’d stormed out the door. It hadn’t been the first time her mom had threatened to down a bottle of pills, after all. Nor had it been the thirtieth. And Jill had been exhausted from the ongoing threats. Of consoling her mother when Jill knew it would do no good.
She couldn’t help her mother. No matter how many times she tried. Only a man could have helped her mother.
But that hadn’t been the case, either. Because her mom had finally gotten a man. One willing to marry her and everything. However, a short three months after that marriage had begun, Janet Sadler had arrived home to find divorce papers stacked neatly in the middle of the kitchen table. The man who’d promised to love her forever hadn’t bothered to let her know that his forever had already come. He’d simply left. Just as Cal had.
“That was the one thing I asked you to never do to me,” she told Cal now. “To leave without a word. And you promised me. You swore you never would.”
“I was a bastard.”
“Oh, hell yeah, you were.”
Her anger was still there, but the past didn’t hurt her the way it once had. And it was time to talk about it.
Shame filled Cal’s face. “I think I might have done it that way just because that’s what he’d done to your mom.”
“I’m sure of it.” They’d both been such hotheads back then. “And to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I’ll ever get over it. Not completely. But though the anger is still there, it’s different now. And that’s why I invited you in tonight. It no longer consumes me. It’s not eating at my soul, and I refuse to let it do that anymore. I want to live again, Cal. I want to be a woman. I want to have a life. I didn’t know that until recently, but I’m finished letting a twelve-year-old action control me.”
“What about the sixteen-year-old one?”
“No.” She gave a quick shake of her head. “We’re not talking about that. We’re just talking about me and you. Mostly because I want to do this”—she motioned between them—“again. It was a hell of a good time, and if you want more, then I’m game for it. But there’s something I need to know from you first. And we need to talk about it before we do anything else.”
His eyes darkened. “And what’s that?”
“You also told Patrick that you were mad at me. Or that you had been when the show started,” she added. “Are you still mad?”
He didn’t say anything, and she watched as his Adam’s apple moved.
“Is it because of the ultimatum?” she asked.
She’d been thinking about it all afternoon. That had to be it. Because he might have purposefully dumped her in the same way her mother’s ex had done to her . . . but by issuing an ultimatum, she’d pushed his buttons, as well.
“You tossed that ultimatum out there because you knew which way I’d go,” Cal accused. He didn’t pull away, but she felt his muscles stiffen. “And you know it, too. Either go with you to Hollywood—”
“Or return, alone, to Red Oak Falls.” She nodded. “And yes, I suspect you’re right.”
She went back to the day he’d shown up at Aunt Blu’s farm after his dad had issued his own ultimatum. Cal had been livid. And determined not to bend to the man’s will.
“It was a jerk move,” she told him. “I’ll admit that. Whether I thought of it consciously or not, I knew what would set you off. And I used that knowledge. But in the end, my words gave you what you needed, didn’t they? The perfect excuse to leave? Because we both know there was no other way for that argument to end.”
They’d both been so stupid. And so stubborn.
“I suppose it did.” Cal’s jaw clenched as he looked away from her, and though she tried to be patient, when he continued focusing on something behind her, she whispered his name.
She’d been so wrapped up in her own anger all this time, that she’d forgotten what she’d done to him.
“Cal,” she said again, and finally, he brought his gaze back to hers. And he allowed her to see the depth of his anger. She pressed her palms to his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“I was wronged, too, Jill. You hurt me, too.”
“I know I did.”
“Yet all this time, all these years . . . it’s been about you. Your anger. Your punishing me.”
She hesitated. Her punishing him?
He had said he’d entered the competition just to get her to talk to him.
Good Lord, how childish could they have been?
“So you wanted to punish me back?” she asked.
He nodded at her question, and in a blink, the hardness edging his eyes began to soften. “We’re idiots,” he told her.
“The biggest kind.”
Cal’s hands covered hers, where they still rested on his cheeks, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, he said, “I’ve held on to this anger for too long, too. I’m ready to move on.”
“Let’s move on together.”
Cal kissed her again then, only, instead of letting him end that one, Jill pushed him back to the mattress. They’d done enough talking for the evening. Enough sharing. It was time for round two—of a different kind of sharing.