CHAPTER 14
Jannie
Jannie pasted a smile on her face and walked into the kitchen, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled the aroma of fresh coffee.
Spotting the aviation-themed steel thermal tumbler he’d given her after their last lesson, she smiled.
Nick had taken to making the coffee because he was an early riser, and every morning he left it on the counter, ready for her, just as she liked it.
Her smile faded to nervous when she also spotted Nick, dressed in a crisp white shirt with white-on-navy epaulets.
Starched and perfectly ironed, that shirt was dazzlingly white, almost as dazzling as the man who wore it.
Evidently, he was making good use of the German laundry sheets she’d given him.
She would have smiled were it not for the way he leaned casually against the counter, exuding such raw masculinity that her mouth watered, and it wasn’t because of the green apple he was eating.
Jannie squared her shoulders and went to get her coffee, feigning nonchalance even as her heart rate spiked. “Good morning.”
“It is.” He smiled, and it felt as if someone had remotely dialed up the wattage of the overhead lighting.
She gauged his expression. Maybe he’d been so out of it last night that he’d forgotten everything.
She reached for the bag of bagels but noted that one was already in the toaster oven, browned to the exact shade she preferred.
“That one’s for you.” He motioned with his hand and took another bite, the sharp sound of the fruit snapping filling the kitchen.
Her gaze lingered on him, admiring how those epaulets accented his broad shoulders. The man had no right to look that good at this hour. “You’re working today?”
“I am.”
She concealed her disappointment behind a sip of coffee.
“The owners want to surprise the Los Angeles branch management and drop in unannounced.”
Jannie nodded and reached for the cream cheese Nick had left on the counter. He watched her spread it over the bagel, and she felt his stare so acutely that it took her a moment before she could trust herself to eat without choking.
“But I’ll be back in time for dinner.” He bit into the Granny Smith with another crunch.
She nodded again.
He licked his lips.
Such beautiful lips.
“I made reservations at Cut,” he said. “Six o’clock.”
“Good choice. My wig and I will be ready.” She took a bite, chewing slowly. The air was thick with tension and unspoken words, and it felt heavy. She hated it.
At last, Nick cleared his throat. “We need to talk.”
His eyes were so intense, she thought she might start sweating just from the way he looked at her. Jannie swallowed.
He picked up the coffee carafe and filled his black tumbler that read, EAT. SLEEP. FLY. and replaced the cap before turning to face her. “Listen, about last night …”
Immediately, the image of him lying there, looking like sin itself as he pulled that sheet, flickered across her mind, and she blinked it away, blood rushing hotly to her cheeks. She wasn’t about to let him know how close she’d come to succumbing.
“I was out of line,” he said.
Not what she expected to hear. She managed to conceal her surprise and looked him in the eye. “You were.”
And it was hot as hell.
He took a sip of coffee. “I could use the defense that I was dazed from being roused from a deep sleep.”
And you sure were aroused. “But?”
“But I wasn’t.”
How could he say that when he had clearly been out cold when she’d walked in?
“Sleeping deeply, that is.” His eyes flashed with that dark hunger that was becoming all too familiar, the one that made her want to pitch caution to the winds and launch herself at him.
“Are you going to claim sleepwalking … or … sleep … whatever it is you were doing?”
Sleepcocking.
A bubble of hysterical laughter rose in her throat. This man was making her unhinged.
“No. I could claim temporary insanity, though. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a very long time.” He still leaned against that countertop, but she could tell he was deceptively relaxed. At any moment, the man was capable of pouncing, and damned if she didn’t wish he would.
Her heart began that odd skip-pause-thud it always did when he got this intense.
“Why?” she asked before she could stop herself.
A corner of his mouth tipped up in a half-smile. “Why do you think?”
His eyes sparked with something that made her stomach drop and her body tingle in several places.
“I have dreams, Jannie. Had a bad one last night. I think your dog sensed something was wrong, and that’s why you found him in my room.”
“He jumped on your bed?”
“No, I invited him.” Nick smiled. “It took some coaxing. He’s a good boy.”
Jannie’s heart squeezed. Who would have thought? Nick needed comfort. “Does this happen often?”
“No. But sometimes, things I try hard not to think of during the day come to me at night.”
She couldn’t help herself. “What kinds of things?”
“Some are terrible.” He tossed the apple core into the sink. “And others …” He pushed off the counter, and sexuality radiated off him as if it were a tangible thing. “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
Well, that had slipped out. Apparently, she’d lost her mind last night and hadn’t found it.
“Knowing you’re just down the hall …” He shook his head and took a small step toward her, his gaze trained on her mouth. “It’s a good thing I’m skilled at maintaining strict control.”
“Why is that?”
Another step. He leaned close, so close that she could smell coffee, apples, and his intoxicating woodsy aftershave. “Because your nearness has been driving me insane.”
She suddenly couldn’t fill her lungs with air. She also couldn’t keep from reaching for him, letting her hands explore his biceps and forearms.
So hard. So warm.
He tensed. A low rumble came from deep within his chest.
Beneath her fingertips, his muscles tensed. “Careful,” he warned.
“Of what?”
“You’re playin’ with fire.”
For one heart-stopping moment, he stared at her, unblinking. Everything happened in slow motion then, and it felt surreal: him angling his head and pausing, his lips a hairsbreadth from her own, the press of his rock-hard thigh against hers, her heart taking flight …
“Kiss me,” he finally murmured, “before I lose my mind.”
Tremors rippled through her at his low voice and barely restrained passion in his tone.
“Please.” His voice was rough.
One syllable, and she was helpless to stop herself from pressing her lips to his.
The feel of his mouth on hers again rocked Jannie to her core.
Yes, she’d been here before, only this time, Nick took her lips with infinite care, gently, so very gently that she moaned into his mouth, wanting more.
Her heart hammered, and her hands slid to his shoulders, gripping, pulling him closer, her nails scraping his epaulets.
Head spinning, she leaned into him, immersed in the tenderness he freely offered and in the slow, tantalizing glide of his tongue over hers. A surge of warmth blossomed in her core, radiating outward like the glimmering points of a shooting star.
She’d never been kissed with such care, and she kissed him back with equal softness, caressing his face and holding him there, never wanting this to end.
Because Nick’s kiss felt like a gift rather than a demand, and that was something she had never experienced before.
It took a while for Jannie to draw back, and even then, she felt as if she hadn’t had her fill.
“I’m sorry I was a jerk last night,” he murmured against her mouth. He raised his head, looking down at her, contrition in his eyes. “Forgive me?”
“I might.” She yanked him close again. “Apologize some more.”
With a deep groan, he crushed her to him.
It was like fire to gasoline.
The air whooshed out of her, and now she felt him, long and hard against her belly as he opened his mouth over hers and took her lips again. She thrust her pelvis forward, grinding, even as she repeated the motion with her mouth.
Flames seemed to ignite all around them, and Jannie found herself engulfed in heat. This was the opposite of the first kiss: deep, aggressive, and just short of savage.
Plundering. Devouring.
He groaned, and she slid her hands upward, reveling in the silky softness of his hair before burying her fingers in the mane at the top of his head and pulling.
She sucked on his tongue, then on his lower lip, nipping, barely restraining herself from biting down, and the only thing that stopped her from licking his chin and biting that, too, was his beard. She growled in frustration. Never in her life had she felt so wild, so wicked, so …
Out of control.
A frisson bolted through her. Adrenaline surged through her veins, and she had visions of tearing off his clothes, dragging him down, and attacking him right there on the kitchen floor.
It almost scared her, this level of unhinged behavior he provoked, and dimly, she realized that, although he’d responded just as fiercely, it was she who was the aggressor.
The next second, he grasped her hands, slowly bringing them down to trap them in his large ones as he broke the kiss.
She managed to suppress her whimper of protest.
He pressed his forehead to hers, panting. She closed her eyes, her knees precariously close to buckling. She could feel his rock-hard abs rising and falling against hers. And something else was still very hard.
“This is the first time in my life,” he said, “that I resent having to go fly a plane.”
Her heart sank. “You need to go.”
“I do.” He didn’t move.
She didn’t want him to leave but didn’t want to be the reason for him being late either. It took everything she had to break from his hold, but somehow, she did, reaching to straighten his tie.
When she attempted to smooth the mess she’d made of his hair, he grinned. “Thank you,” he said.
She looked him up and down. “Gotta make you presentable.”
“That’ll take a while.” He smirked. “And that’s not why I’m thanking you. You gave me something to think about all day.” He picked up his tumbler, took a sip of coffee, then flipped the closure on the lid. Gently, he traced his index finger along her cheek. “Are we good?”
Were they?