So this is how it ends. No explanations, no excuses. No good-byes. Nothing. Angela stared at the computer monitor on her desk, no longer seeing the floor plan displayed on the screen. She hadn’t heard from Jake since he’d dropped her off in front of her condo Sunday afternoon when they arrived home from Chuck’s house in LA. That was two days ago.
Glancing at the clock for the thousandth time, she sighed heavily at the thought of spending the evening alone. Again. She checked her cell phone for missed calls. None, of course. Briefly, she considered leaving another message for Jake, but since he hadn’t bothered to respond to her three previous messages, calling him again seemed useless.
Stella Jenkins poked her head into the office. “If you don’t need anything else, Angela, I’m heading home.”
“Huh? Oh, fine. I should leave also,” she said halfheartedly.
The assistant cocked her head sympathetically. “Guy troubles?”
“How’d you guess?”
“I can tell.”
“It’s obvious?”
“Afraid so. Is it Jake?”
Angela nodded. “He’s disappeared.” She forced a laugh. “Oh, well, at least he lasted longer than the others.”
“Crap, I’m disappointed in him. He seemed different, you know, stronger or something. Anyway, I’m sorry it didn’t work out. You gonna be okay?”
“Sure. Hey, he was just another guy. Besides, I’m a survivor. See you tomorrow.”
Stella gave her a thumbs-up and left.
Angela released another sigh and shut down her computer. She stood and began locking the file cabinets. When her cell phone rang she froze momentarily, then spun around and grabbed it. Jake. Her throat tightened.
“Hello,” she answered tentatively.
“Hey, babe, how are ya?”
Keeping all emotion from her voice, she lied, “I’m fine. In a bit of a hurry, though.”
A strained moment passed before he continued. “Well, I won’t keep you. I know this is short notice, but I was hoping you could come over.”
“Come over? Why?”
Another silence. “Because I’d like to see you.”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth.
“What’s wrong, Angela?”
“You honestly don’t know?” she snapped.
“Of course I know,” he said defensively. “I haven’t called and—”
“Right. You are ‘what’s wrong.’”
Jake hesitated. “It was a tough weekend.”
“Really? I was there. Remember?”
“Yeah, and you were spectacular.” He cleared his throat. “I want you to spend the night, here, with me.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“You handled it so well at Chuck’s house, I think we should try it here. Alone. As the next step, you know.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Jake, I thought—”
“I know what you thought, but it’s not that. Crap, I just needed time to come to grips with…with everything. We can talk about it tonight.” He paused. “Will you come…and stay?”
Eyes burning with unshed tears, she pressed her fist over her mouth and struggled to compose herself before answering. “Yes, Jake, I will.”
* * *
Moonlight reflected off the boulders like white chocolate chips sprinkled atop mounds of crumbled brownies.
Admiring the view, Angela stood at the end of the flagstone patio next to the vanishing edge of the swimming pool. A step in front of her, the steep hillside fell away into nothingness. She smiled at the memory of Jake’s impudent explanation of circumventing the fence requirement to preserve the pristine panorama.
A persistent west wind tugged at her hair and the pool towel wrapped around her naked body. Relaxing in the spa after dinner, Jake had coaxed her into shedding her swimsuit again. It had been easier this time, almost comfortable sitting in the darkness, knowing they were both naked but unable to see the evidence of it.
Angela shivered as the breeze brushed across her wet skin. Something about the night made her shudder inside as well. Her hopes of discussing what Jake had “come to grips with” had been dashed against his granite façade. Despite his earlier offer to discuss it, the topic had been carefully avoided at dinner and afterward in the spa. And in contrast to his invitation for her to spend the night, his attitude toward her all evening had been restrained and distant. Now she stared into space, wondering if the night would end well or not.
Running footsteps from behind startled her. Suddenly, a large hand landed roughly on her back. She stumbled forward. Her left foot slipped off the patio onto the ground; her right foot slid close to the edge. The loose dirt beneath her gave way. Arms flailing, she teetered precariously toward the boulder-covered hillside below.
She screamed.
“Angela!” Jake yelled, grabbing her arm with both hands. He yanked her back onto the patio and enveloped her in his arms. “What the hell are you doing?”
Gasping for air and trembling, she gazed up at him in disbelief. “Y-you p-pushed me,” she stammered.
“Pushed you? Shit. Are you crazy? I was pulling you back.”
She shut her eyes and went limp against his bare chest. His arms tightened around her, his heart pounding against her ear. They stood, motionless, speechless, for several minutes.
“Come sit down on this lounge while I get you a drink,” he finally said, leading her away from the edge. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
He lowered her onto the lounge and stroked her hair tenderly before leaving her.
Her perplexed gaze followed him into the house. Jake had pushed her. She was almost sure of it. Almost. But why? Why would he do such a dangerous thing? Did he want to play the hero by saving her? How childish and reckless if that were his motivation.
A violent shudder shook her. She forced her breathing to slow, forced her thoughts away from the incomprehensible.
She had to be wrong. In the terror of the moment, she had misinterpreted his protective gesture. His face had shown shock and fear when he held her. The incident had unnerved him as well.
Angela drew a deep breath and rubbed the back of her neck. The fright had left her shaken, jittery. Her eyes were drawn to the tranquil water of the swimming pool where the full moon plated the surface with shimmering silver.
On impulse, she stripped off the towel and dove in. The warm water caressed her body as she swam, the liberating sensation calming her nerves.
Several minutes later, Jake emerged from the house carrying two tumblers of Jack Daniel’s. He walked to the patio table, set the glasses down, and glanced around.
“Angela?”
She quietly treaded water in the deep end, thankful the pool and landscaping lights were off.
“Over here, Jake,” she called.
With the pool towel still wrapped around his waist, he turned and strolled toward the pool. “Are you feeling bet—” Stopping abruptly near the edge, he stared, transfixed, into the water. A groan escaped as his darkening eyes rose to hers.
Her breath caught at the heat in his expression. She followed his gaze back down. Oh God. From that angle, the moonlight pierced the water, illuminating her nudity like a spotlight. Instinctively she began to swim away, to the shallow end of the pool.
She heard and felt him dive in. Frantically, her arms and legs thrashed through the water, but she sensed him gaining on her. As soon as her toes could touch the bottom, she stopped swimming and tried to cover herself with her hands and arms.
But it was too late.
He was on her. Strong arms clutched her to his naked body, his rigid erection pressing into her belly. His mouth attacked hers, a moan vibrating against her lips.
Her fists wedged between them and shoved into his gut. He grunted.
“Stop, Jake. Stop it!” she shouted.
His forehead dropped forward to rest on hers. One hand traced her spine from nape to tush.
“Please let me touch you. God, you feel so good.”
She struggled to twist out of his grasp, but he was too strong. “No, Jake, stop!”
His kiss silenced her. His hands cradled her head as his tongue sought hers.
Slowly, uncertainly, she relaxed and responded. This was a step toward her goal, wasn’t it? She should enjoy being touched like this. Her eyes closed, and she savored the taste of him. Her tongue followed each symbolic thrust of his. When his lips nibbled down her neck, she clasped her hands at his nape and hung her head back, allowing him better access. Yes, this was good.
Reacting to her surrender, Jake splayed both hands across her butt, lifting her up. His breathing turned ragged, and his kisses frenzied. Warm lips trailed the slope of her breasts, but hesitated, and then avoided her nipples.
Angela’s pulse raced, heat sweeping through her, flaring in her groin. Her insides burned, clenched, liquefied, in sensual anticipation. The sensations were so foreign—nearly forgotten—they shocked her.
With her thighs balanced on his, Jake strode to the pool steps. Bending carefully, he set her on the third step so the water reached just below her shoulders. She leaned back when he pushed her legs apart and knelt between them. Frantically, strong hands explored: breasts, belly, thighs. Everywhere, except her most intimate spot.
He stretched out over her, supporting himself on one arm, resting his body lightly on top of her. His skin. Her skin. She trembled beneath him. Her hands clutched his waist. With his lips locked to hers, he pumped his swollen dick against her crotch, probing but not penetrating.
The insistent pressure triggered a spasm of arousal and a spark of panic inside her. Not there. Don’t touch me there. In an instant, reality resurfaced. Familiar fear flooded through her. Too much. Too fast. Stop. I can’t. Can’t.
When she sobbed, his frenzy fizzled. He released her mouth and pressed her face against his heaving chest.
“Shit. I can’t take much more of this. Can you feel how much I want you?” He slid his rigid dick across her thighs.
“Don’t,” she gasped. “Please, don’t force me.”
“Damn it, I’m not the bastard who raped you. I’d never force you. But this is killing me. I want you. I need you. Don’t you…feel anything?” He choked on the words.
She said nothing, her feelings imprisoned by her panic.
He studied her face for a long time. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered. He lowered her gently, supported himself above her with his hands bracketing her shoulders on the step. “I’m sorry, Angela. I lost control. It won’t happen again.”
Her eyes were drawn to his lean torso rising out of the water. Twisting around, she watched his taut ass and muscular thighs splashing up the stairs.
“Jake,” she called softly.
He didn’t stop, didn’t respond.
“I feel—” she began, but the breeze blew away the rest of her words.
* * *
Jake fought the impulse to run, instead placing one foot deliberately in front of the other until he reached the privacy of the kitchen. Dripping wet and naked, he braced his hands on his knees and hung his head. His head throbbed with each heartbeat. What have I done?
Grappling with a myriad of alien emotions, he climbed the staircase to his bedroom. In the bathroom, he dried off before lumbering into the dressing area of the walk-in closet. Despite his attempt to clear away all thoughts of the evening, the devastating events kept replaying like a bad video in his mind. How could I let this happen?
After pulling on a pair of boxer briefs, he checked the security system panel. He confirmed all the exterior doors were unlocked. Since the episode at the front door during Angela’s second visit, he’d been careful not to utilize the lock-in option. He sighed with resignation. He was sure she’d leave immediately, if she hadn’t already. How could I be so stupid?
Jake swept the comforter toward the foot of the bed, exposing clean black silk sheets. He dropped heavily onto the coolness and scrunched his eyes shut. His fingers burrowed into his hair and gripped handfuls in desperation. He lay rigid, tempted to scream his frustration. What kind of monster am I?
The scene with Angela standing at the edge of the patio flashed under his closed eyelids. Something had snapped when he saw the potential danger. Shocked, he’d run up behind her. He remembered hesitating to grab the towel wrapped around her for fear of pulling it off. Instead, he’d reached for her shoulder. But his open hand had landed firmly on her bare back. Dear God, did I push her? Did I? Did…I?
His hands rubbed up and down his face, and the memory changed to the scene in the pool. Angela naked in the moonlit water. God, she was so sexy. Who could blame him for responding like a normal male? She would, that’s who. He had violated her trust—if there had been any. And it was clear she didn’t feel anything. No heat. No desire. No lust. No…nothing. Shit.
“Jake?”
His eyes popped open, and he lurched upright.
Angela stood in the bedroom doorway. A long, pink, silky nightgown draped her figure. His gaze swept over her, pausing at all the strategic spots. Her face was as pink as the gown when his eyes rose to meet hers.
“Angela?”
They studied each other.
She squared her shoulders. Her chest rose and fell. Her chin lifted. “Am I still invited to sleep over?”
Jake blinked. “Of course.” He patted the sheet beside him.
She stared at the black silk, trepidation shining in her eyes. Her feet moved and then stopped.
He extended a hand. “It’s okay,” he whispered and gulped.
She nodded jerkily, inched toward the bed, and reached for his outstretched hand.
Feeling as unsure as she looked, he tried to radiate reassurance but failed miserably. Perhaps his own uncertainty gave her the confidence to climb into bed with him. He didn’t try to pull her close; he allowed her to find her own comfort zone. When she was settled, he fluffed the top sheet over both of them. He stayed on his back, letting her roll onto her side to face him.
“Are you angry?” she asked.
“No.”
“Disappointed?”
He shot her a sideways glance. “I’m a guy, Angela. What do you think?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“Then what am I supposed to say?”
“How about nothing?”
She sighed tremulously, and he guessed she was close to tears. He inhaled deeply and expelled frustration through pursed lips. How much more celibacy could he take?
“I’m trying, Jake, really I am.”
“I know.”
“Maybe this isn’t going to work. I’m not naïve, you know. You must be incredibly horny by now.” She looked away. “If you’re still not sleeping with someone else, that is.”
His fingertips gently turned her face to his. “I’m not screwing anyone. Honest. But you’re right, I’m about to explode.” His thumb traced her lips. They parted, and warm breath bathed his fingers. He moaned and pulled his hand away.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” His gaze dipped to her cleavage hidden modestly behind delicate lace, and to her nipples pressing against pink silk.
Angela yanked the sheet up to her neck. “I…I think you should call your masseuse tomorrow and have her come…come…take care of you.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot upward. “What?”
“I’m a pragmatist. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Lose me?” He cocked his head. “Does that mean you have me?”
A disconcerted expression replaced the concern on her face. “Uh. I…I didn’t mean—”
He scooted closer and chuckled as his hand stroked her cheek. “Relax. You’re damn right. You’ve got me good.” He planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.
“But I can’t satisfy you. You need sex. Your masseuse can relieve your frustration. And if I rationalize it as purely physical, I can accept that you need a woman other than me—”
“Bullshit. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I’d rather be sleeping beside you than screwing my masseuse or any other woman.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Jake. I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“Well, maybe it’s an exaggeration,” he admitted, grinning sheepishly, “but it sounded noble, didn’t it?”
“Very noble.”
“So reward me and drop this nonsense about another woman. I’ve got my eye on the grand prize.” But he shook his head to clear it of visions of claiming that prize. In desperation, he changed the subject. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d like to come with me to Rosarito Beach.”
“Mexico?”
“Yeah, it’s only a short drive south of Tijuana. Have you ever been there?”
“No.”
“Great. I own a little place near the beach. It’s quiet, secluded. Interested?”
“Sounds wonderful. When?”
“How about this weekend?”
“Perfect.”
“Okay, now let’s go to sleep.”
After another chaste kiss, he stretched out a respectful distance away and closed his eyes. He suspected Angela was also wide awake, but he was still surprised when she spoke.
“Jake?”
“Hmmm?”
“I’m sorry I accused you of pushing me.”
Pangs of guilt prevented him from responding.
“It was a stupid thought. I was just so frightened I didn’t understand at first what had happened.”
“Okay,” he managed to say.
When her hand caressed his cheek, he opened his eyes to find her peering at him intently.
“I heard you running, and I started to spin around to see what was going on. You must have been reaching for my arm or shoulder, but when I turned so quickly, your hand landed on my back instead. My motion sent me backward as your hand came forward. That’s why it felt like a push.”
“So I wasn’t trying to kill you?” he said, joking to hide his relief.
“Of course not. I’m so sorry for what I said.” She rolled over and snuggled her backside against him. “Do you forgive me?”
“Sure.”
He carefully draped his arm across her waist. His teeth clenched as her silk-covered ass brushed provocatively against his frustrated dick. God help me.