Chapter 20 Just One Night
Just One Night
The padded walls dampened the bang as the door closed behind Jack.
I sat down on the squishy floor to collect myself before leaving.
I needed a moment. My brain and body were swimming in dopamine, oxytocin, and latent adrenaline.
And my poor lady bits… disappointment was the prevailing feeling south of my belly button.
I collected the two empty cups that we had dropped at the beginning of our little tryst. I twisted them by their plastic stems while my brain tried to reconcile what had just almost happened.
Alan’s interruption had been completely unwelcome, but it was for the best. Hooking up in a field house full of students, staff, and parents was complete insanity. Anyone could have found us. Frankly, we were lucky it had only been Alan.
That and… I really didn’t want to have sex on a high school wrestling mat. No amount of bleach could remove the years of teenage-boy sweat that had likely penetrated every molecule of the foam.
Abruptly, I stood up, wiping my palms on my jeans as if that might remove the cooties.
No. It would be better if—on the off chance anything ever did happen—we were somewhere private, and, arguably, in a bed. We were adults, too old to be sneaking around like teenagers.
But now, under the harsh fluorescent lights, I was faced with the stark reality that if we started up again, it would be a deliberate choice and not just because we were caught up in the moment.
Is that what I wanted? Did I want to make that choice? To cross that line?
The answer came to me without a moment’s hesitation. Yes. I did.
I had a history of making questionable decisions—at least according to my parents—and it always seemed to work out okay, eventually. My decisions led me to Silvia and Columbia and back to Newbury. And I would never regret any of that.
And yes, starting something with another teacher was frowned upon here, but it wasn’t going to get me kicked out—even rule-abiding Ashley said so. My mediocre teaching was more likely to be the reason I would be asked to leave.
But that was months away. I was here now, with rock-hard nipples and a telltale ache between my thighs. I had some unfinished business with a smart, sexy, confusing man, and I had every intention of resolving it.
Cups in hand, I flipped off the lights and headed back out into the thumping party.
I deposited the trash in a bin and then surveyed the mass of dancing teachers for a dark head above the others. There was no sign of Jack. He hadn’t said where I should go to find him after he finished with Alan. He might come back to the party, or he might go somewhere else.
I decided to head back to Brookside Hall. When he couldn’t find me in the fieldhouse, he would likely go back there. Plus, being in one of our apartments made much more sense from a privacy standpoint.
If I had been in New York, I would let my friends know when I was leaving a party so they wouldn’t worry about me, but that didn’t seem necessary here.
Plus, there was no way in hell I was going to interrupt whatever Phyllis was doing with her husband on the dance floor.
I averted my eyes and strode toward the exit.
The night air carried the bite of impending winter, and I shivered in my cashmere sweater. The garment had been fine for the football game earlier in the night and more than fine for a tumble around the wrestling room, but it was proving insufficient against the chilly breeze.
I crossed my arms over my chest and tucked my fingers under my arms, trying to retain my dwindling body heat. It didn’t help much, so I picked up my pace, speed walking through the chestnut trees.
A shadow shifted unnaturally in the gloom. I only just managed to stifle a scream before Jack stepped onto the path. My heart started pounding in my chest, from the shock but also from anticipation.
“Hey.” His voice sounded deeper than usual, though maybe that was my imagination.
“Did everything go okay with Alan?”
“You’re shivering.” He drew me to his chest and wrapped his arms around my back.
The man was a furnace, and I couldn’t help but nuzzle against his firm body, soaking up his warmth.
A hum rumbled through his chest, and he rested his chin over the curve of my head. “Here. Let’s get inside. We probably shouldn’t be out in the open anyway.”
The lakeside path appeared deserted, but that didn’t mean there weren’t others lurking around—two-dozen staff members lived in Brookside during the school year. Any of them might come this way any second.
We needed to get inside, but I was afraid of what that might mean. I desperately wanted him to keep holding me, warming from the outside in and the inside out. But would he change his mind now that he had a little time to think?
With our heads down and his arm wrapped snugly around my shoulders, we hurried the rest of the way to the apartment building and up the stairs. And all too quickly, we were on the third floor, standing between our two doors, at a crossroads.
Jack produced his key from his pocket and slid it into the lock of number thirty-three. He paused and looked at me, his dark eyes somehow both an invitation and a challenge, before turning the key and cracking open the door.
“One night,” he said.
I sucked in a breath and regarded him. Was this really happening? This was what I had wanted for the last several weeks—okay, since I first saw him and considered licking the sweat off of his perfect abs.
But he was still setting a boundary. I had no choice but to agree to his terms.
“One night,” I said, and slipped past him into his apartment.
Moonlight shone in through a large window, bathing the room in a silvery glow.
The layout was a mirror image of my apartment, but furnished much more simply as if Cooper hadn’t bothered to personalize the space.
The only notable addition was a tall bookcase, overstuffed with books, and the LEGO set that I gave him, fully assembled and displayed prominently on the coffee table.
Two large hands grasped my waist and turned me around. I smirked as I looked up into Jack’s espresso eyes, reflecting the dim light.
“Where were we?” he murmured.
I slid my arms around his neck. “Right here, I think.”
I pressed up on my toes as he lowered his head, and our lips met between us. The kiss started slow and deep, and I got the distinct impression that I was being tasted. Savored.
I hummed in bliss as he tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. We melted into each other.
His hands roamed up and down my back and sides, exploring every inch. I arched into his touch, pressing against him so that it felt like he was everywhere all at once. The kiss intensified the longer we went, until after a few moments he pulled back, breathless.
“I never imagined you would taste this sweet,” he murmured as his hot mouth moved to press kisses along my jaw and down the column of my neck.
I didn’t know Jack particularly well, but I knew that he wasn’t impulsive. He was thoughtful and methodical. He did nothing without thinking it through from every angle, and that took time.
A whimper escaped me as he reached the curve of my shoulder, pulling aside the neck of my sweater to give him more access to skin.
“Oh yeah?” I asked. “What did you imagine?”
“Lots of things,” he said between kisses. “I have a vivid imagination and too much time to think.”
My knees felt weak. How much time had he spent thinking about us like this? Weeks? Months? Perhaps longer? No, that was crazy.
“What kinds of things?” My voice was thin and breathy.
“I can show you.” It was a tease and an offer.
“Back in the fieldhouse you said something about an orgasm?” I teased back.
Teeth grazed the tendon in my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine. “I did,” he confirmed, his voice low and husky.
My arms tightened around his neck, and it was all I could do to stay on my feet.
“Please,” I begged.
The word triggered something in him, because he immediately started to move, walking me slowly back toward the bedroom, only removing his mouth from my skin when I peeled off my sweater for the second time tonight.
By the time the back of my knees hit the bed, I was down to my bra and panties—a pretty lace set that gave me enough cleavage to swallow a phone—and he was shirtless with his jeans hanging unbuttoned and loose on his hips.
I sat back on the bed while he stood before me, and I tugged the pants down his thighs and calves until he could step out and kick them away.
The only light in the room came from the window, so Jack was backlit with a silver glow in the shadowed room. He looked even better than I remembered.
“Wow,” I murmured.
He chuckled, low and rumbling.
I scooted into the middle of the bed and lay back on the pillows. He followed, crawling up the length of my body, broad shoulders and lean torso looming over me. He smelled like lemon and honey and something musky and male—maybe his own pheromones.
He paused, hands grasping either side of my ribs, thumbs gently stroking the sides of my breasts, and surveyed me laid out before him.
“You look like a dream,” he said.
I felt like a dream as his gaze raked over my body, somehow just as intimate as if it had been his hands—or mouth—exploring every inch of me.
My skin tingled where his eyes trailed, and desire coiled low in my core.
If he reached into my panties, he would find me slick, all but dripping, with arousal.
“You do, too. Even better than that first day I saw you.”
“Let’s not talk about that.” He lowered his mouth to mine, silencing me with a searing kiss. I responded with enthusiasm, cupping his jaw in my hands, then sliding my fingers up into his soft hair.
His hand skated over my chest, palming my breast and massaging it through my bra before slowly pulling down the cup. I gasped at the jolt of pleasure that shot through my body when he rolled my nipple between his finger and thumb.