Just One Kiss

Her voice trailed off as she realized he was simply watching her.

She swallowed. “I’m just saying it’s been a long time and I might not be very good.”

The last confession was delivered in a whisper.

“About done?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Have you changed your mind or are you nervous?”

She licked her lips. “You know. That second one.”

Something flashed in his blue eyes; then he crossed to her and pulled off her T-shirt. Just like that. Without asking. There they were in a small back room with shelves and boxes and a big hole where the dishwasher was going to go, and he was taking off her clothes.

“I remember the first time I met you,” he said, turning her so that she stood with her back to him. He picked up her hair and shifted it over one shoulder, then lightly kissed the back of her neck.

“You were fourteen and I was eighteen and scared as hell. But then you walked into history, sat next to me, smiled and introduced yourself. That was it. One smile and I was hooked.”

The warm heat of his mouth made her break out in goose bumps. “You were?”

“Uh-huh. Being around you made me feel I wasn’t on the run. I could pretend I was just like everyone else.”

She started to turn to face him, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead he held her in place, her back to his front, her butt nestling against his erection. He settled his hands on her belly, his fingers splayed. She watched as he moved them around in a slow circle.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted, doing just that on her neck. “I wanted to hold you and touch you.” He hesitated. “Let’s just say there was more to the fantasy.”

“I’m scandalized,” she murmured, a smile in her voice.

“I knew I was too old for you and the wrong guy, but I couldn’t help myself.”

He slid his hands up to her br**sts and cupped them, as he had before. The difference was now she could see what he was doing. She could watch him move his fingers against her bra, focusing on her tight nipples, and at the same time, she could feel the electric jolt that surged through her.

“Even after I left, I thought about you,” he continued. “All the time. I never forgot you.”

His hands moved against her breasts, exploring them, his fingers returning again and again to her nipples. With each stroke, she found it more difficult to breathe. Maybe it was her, but the room seemed to be getting a little warmer. And wouldn’t this all be better if there weren’t so many layers of clothing between her and what he was doing?

“I want to just...” She reached between them and unfastened her bra.

He pushed it away and paused for a moment. She knew he was looking over her shoulder, staring at her. She wasn’t huge, but figured he’d guessed that already. If he was expecting big boobs, he wouldn’t have started this in the first place.

He returned his hands to her breasts, his tan skin a contrast to her pale flesh. He inched his thumbs closer to her nipples. As she watched, she saw the puckered flesh almost strain toward him, as if seeking his—

He swore and spun her, then bent down to capture her nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard, pulling her in deep. She hung on to him, as wanting surged through her, making her knees weak.

He shifted to the other breast and repeated his actions, this time adding his tongue to the mix. She let her head fall back as she grew more aroused by the second.

Back and forth, back and forth. She touched his head, wanting to feel his cool, soft hair. Wanting to hold him in place.

As he continued to minister to her breasts, he reached for her waistband. As he undid the button, she shifted so she could put her toe to her heel and slide out of her athletic shoes. She took care of her other foot just as he slid down the zipper. Then Justice pushed her jeans down to just past her hips. Her tiny panties went along for the ride and she seemed to be helping and before she knew what was happening, she was stepping out of the last of her clothes.

She had just enough time to register the fact that she was standing there, na**d in her storeroom, when he slid a hand between her legs. Even as one finger slipped inside her wet, swollen body, his thumb found her core and circled it.

She gasped as her world reduced itself to the man holding her and the sensations he could produce. She was all hunger and need, desperate to have more of what he offered. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe. She parted her legs and surrendered to the pleasure pouring through her.

Another circle, another tease. He moved his finger in and out, making her push toward the contact and wish there was more. The soles of her feet burned. Her body trembled. If he hadn’t kept an arm around her waist, she would have fallen.

She was sure he planned some long, fancy seduction, but she had been without for what felt like six lifetimes. Or maybe it was just being with Justice, knowing she trusted him with the very heart of her. Either way, she couldn’t hold back. Couldn’t do anything but feel the steady strokes over and over, the growing tension.

She whispered his name even as she moved her h*ps in time with his hand. Tension grew as she pushed toward her release. Pushed and strained and then she was coming and shuddering and hanging on as if she would never stop.

He stayed with her, holding her steady, touching her, plunging in and out. She cried out as the pleasure filled her, then overflowed.

But it wasn’t enough, she thought frantically. Even as the shudders faded, she still wanted more. She turned to him and fumbled with his belt. Fortunately, the man wasn’t an idiot. He pulled out the condom, then helped her with his jeans. After shoving them down, he put on the condom and reached for her.

“How are we going to do this?” she asked, looking around for a table or a—

He wrapped his arms around her waist and raised her off the floor. She barely had time to scream before he lowered her onto him, filling her until she knew she was going to die from the wonder of it. He eased them both against the wall, bracing her, then withdrew and filled her again.

Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his hips. The movement brought her core right against him so that every stroke, every push, aroused her even more.

Later she would figure out how strong he had to be to support her like that. Later she would think about mechanics and physics, but right now all she cared about was him thrusting into her. Hard and fast, as if he could do it forever.

She wanted to watch him, to sense him getting closer. Only what he was doing felt too good. He was hitting something deep inside, some place filled with sensation and pleasure. She worked with him, pushing down as he pushed up, straining to get closer, wanting, wanting...

“Patience.”

Her name came out with a guttural cry. She felt the tension in him and knew he was close. His gaze locked with hers as he struggled to hold back.

She was close, too, on the edge of her release. But not yet there. Not yet ready. She needed...

“Come for me.”

Apparently she needed for him to ask, she thought as she arched against him and shuddered. Her orgasm ripped through her, making her hang on as she flexed and writhed and pulled his release from him. They drove toward each other, calling out, their contractions matching and growing before easing into complete satisfaction.

When she was conscious again, she felt the trembling in his arms and suspected it had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with exhaustion.

“Put me down,” she told him.

“I’m not going to drop you.”

She smiled. “Let’s not test that theory.”

He lowered her to the floor, but didn’t release her. Instead he held her close. She felt his heart pounding in his chest. They were both sweaty and breathing hard and she never wanted to let go.

“Amazing,” she breathed, then wondered if she should have been slightly more restrained.

He chuckled. “I agree. If this is you with no practice, I’m going to have to be careful. In another couple of weeks, you’ll be so good you’ll kill me.”

“I promise not to let things get that far.”

He straightened and kissed her. “I’m willing to risk it.”

When they parted, she had a moment to realize that while she was completely na**d, he was nearly fully dressed. But while the clothes-gathering could have been awkward, it wasn’t. Justice steadied her while she slipped into her panties and insisted on doing up her bra himself. That led to him making sure it fit right and checking out whether or not he could squeeze his hand between her breast and the cup, which led to more kissing, so it was a while until she was clothed again.

When they finally returned to the main room, she was feeling relaxed and smug. She wanted to think she’d just forgotten how good sex could be but had a feeling making love with Justice was in a special category. Which meant she was unlikely to duplicate the experience with anyone else.

Nerves surfaced, but before she could squash them, someone knocked on the locked front door of the store.

Patience crossed to open it. She didn’t recognize the woman standing there and wondered if she was a lost tourist.

“Can I help you?” she asked, taking in the other woman’s long, wavy hair and warm smile. Her irises were cat’s-eye green. She was tall and lean, but with a hint of perfect curves under her tailored black pantsuit.

She looked so happy to be there, Patience couldn’t help smiling back. Only to realize the happiness wasn’t aimed at her.

“Justice!”

The tall, elegant woman brushed past Patience and launched herself at Justice. Just as horrible, he caught her in his arms and swung her around.

“You made it,” he exclaimed.

“Of course. I couldn’t let you be here all by yourself.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

All the pleasure Patience had just experienced bled away, leaving her with the sense of having been played for a fool.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

PATIENCE STOOD THERE, watching the happy couple. Shock didn’t describe the combination of dismay and mortification burning through her. Not three minutes ago, she had been na**d and making love with Justice. Now he was hanging on to some other woman? The chasm of the years he’d been gone had never stretched so far between them. She wanted to run but couldn’t make herself move. Then she remembered this was her store and her town. Even if Justice wasn’t her man.

Justice and the woman hugged again, laughing happily. Patience glanced around, idly wondering if there was anything she could throw at them. China. A bucket of water. She wasn’t feeling particularly picky.

Justice finally looked up and saw her. Amazingly, there wasn’t any guilt in his expression. Just contentment.

Sure, she thought bitterly. Why not? Talk about having his cake and all that.

“Patience, let me introduce my business associate Felicia Swift. Felicia, this is Patience. The girl I knew when I lived here.”

The tall, elegant beauty moved toward Patience, her intentions obvious. They were going to greet each other politely. Because that’s what civilized people did.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you,” Felicia said with a brilliant smile. “Justice told me a little about your past together.” She gave him a wry look. “Not that he talks about his personal life very much at all, right?”

“Right,” Patience said. “He’s very secretive. Not necessarily a good quality in a man. In fact, it can be annoying.”

Justice looked at her, his brows pulling together.

She wanted to stomp her foot. Seriously? He was going to pretend to be confused?

Felicia laughed. It was a low, throaty, sexy sound that made Patience hate her instantly. Not that she’d especially liked her before.

The other woman patted Justice’s arm. “And for the record, I’m not your associate. Not anymore.”

Justice kept his gaze on Patience. “That’s right. Felicia is going to help us set up the business, but then we’re on our own.”

“How sad,” Patience murmured.

“It is. She’s a logistical expert.” He turned back to the stunning redhead. “You’ve saved my ass more than once.”

“Just doing my job.” She smiled at Patience. “As I’m sure he’s already told you, I worked with Justice when he was in the military. Then we both went to work for the private security company. Now we’re here.”

“How very special.”

Patience pressed her hand against her stomach. It was writhing again, but this time for very different reasons. She’d never experienced jealousy before. Not like this. When Ned had announced he was leaving, she’d been stunned and upset, but not jealous. Her pain had mostly been for her daughter—losing her father before she’d even gotten to know him.

It was her ability to let go that had convinced her she hadn’t loved Ned at all. Theirs had been a marriage of convenience, brought on by her pregnancy.

This time was different. This time the jealousy burned hot and bright. The need to throw or possibly destroy was still there. Reminding herself this was her store and any damage would be hers to fix helped keep her in check. As did her basic grasp of normal behavior. But she was furious and devastated. Crying and screaming seemed equally likely outcomes.

She felt her control slipping and knew she had to get away from the happy couple. Or at the very least, get them to leave so she could throw up in private.

“You two probably want to catch up,” she said with what she hoped was a smile. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Not her most subtle moment, she thought. But she wasn’t in a position to be picky.

“Are you all right?” Justice asked.

“Peachy.”

His frown deepened.

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