"I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated as hell by this whole situation. I don't understand why you let me think for ten weeks that you were married. What the hell are you so scared of?"
He looked her over while he waited for her answer. She was dressed in skin tight, low-rise capri length jeans. Her shoes were nude colored, three inch platform sandals. Her top was sleeveless and clung to her breasts. He'd never seen her in anything remotely like that before.
She was an itch he needed to scratch.
"I'm not scared of anything. I didn't know you thought I was married-"
"That's bullshit. Why the hell wouldn't I? You have pictures of your daughter on your desk. Everyone at that school calls you 'Mrs. Sanford.' "He glared at her.
"What was I supposed to say? 'Oh, by the way, Lieutenant Hottie, I'm not married?' Besides, I didn't think you noticed me anyway." That part wasn't true. She knew he had been aware of her every time he was in her classroom. But no matter how deep the attraction, she wouldn't let herself get involved with him. Her past made it impossible for her to consider it.
She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him.
"So, you think I'm hot?" He started in her direction again.
"Stop. We haven't resolved anything. Quit stalking me." Her voice was shrill. She scooted around to the other side of the coffee table.
"Okay, babe. You win. I'm going to walk back in the kitchen, and get you a glass of wine. Then we'll sit and talk." He turned to leave the room.
"Oh my God! Renee and Jenny. I forgot Renee and Jenny. The wine reminded me. I'm supposed to meet them. I need to go-"
"You're not going anywhere." He reached over and grabbed his cell phone off the counter. "Call them. Cancel."
"I can't just cancel." He put the phone in her hand.
"Even if I wanted to let you go, you can't. Your car will stall again. You're staying here. We'll get it worked on tomorrow." Indecision was etched on her features.
She opened the phone and looked at it. She slowly keyed in Renee's number. Jake walked around behind her and threaded his arms around her waist while she waited for Renee to pick up.
"Hello?" Amy could tell her friend didn't recognize the number.
"Renee, it's me, Amy." Jake moved his hand and palmed her breast. She jumped.
"Amy, are you all right? Where are you?" Amy held the phone away from her ear in a daze. That hand felt so good.
Jake whispered in her ear. "Tell her you're okay, but had car trouble." He tugged on her nipple.
"I-I'm okay. I had c-car trouble." Her voice was soft, quiet. She could feel the wetness between her thighs.
"Oh my gosh! Do you need me? I'll be right there." Renee's voice was shrill, concerned.
Amy hung like a puppet in Jake's grasp. "Tell her not to come. Tell her you're fine. Tell her you're with the police." His whispered instructions tickled her ear. His hand moved down to cup her heat. She sucked in her breath.
"I-I'm fine. You don't need to come. I'm w-with the police. Bye." She closed the phone and it dropped to the floor.
Jake slid his hand up her shirt and cupped a silk covered breast. He rubbed the liquid heat between her legs. "You did real good, babe. Real good."
She sagged in his arms. "W-well." Her voice was a shaken whisper.
He sucked her earlobe into his mouth. "What?"
"I did real well. Not good. Well." Her hips moved against his hand.
He chuckled. "Oh yes, ma'am, Ms. Sanford. You did real well." He turned her in his hold. One brawny arm slid around her waist and the other reached to caress her breast under her shirt. "Is there anything else you want me to learn tonight, teacher girl?" His thumb stroked back and forth across her nipple.
She moaned. She clung to his biceps and lifted her lips. "I d-don't think-"
He took her lips with his and rubbed them slowly across hers. He took her bottom lip in his mouth and gently sucked. His teeth raked across it. His tongue reached out and took licks where his teeth had abraded only a moment before. "That's okay, sweetheart, you don't need to think. I've got you."
He took her hand and led her to the couch. She mindlessly followed him. Once she was sitting, he knelt in front of her and put his hands on her thighs. He slowly pushed them apart and moved his torso between her knees. His hands made a swirling pattern on the top of her legs and his eyes held hers. "You are the prettiest little thing I've ever seen." He slid his hands to the inside of her thighs. "So sweet. So damn pretty. It's hard to believe you're thirty-seven. You look about twenty-five." He swirled one hand up and over her feminine mound and away again.
Amy squirmed at the enticement. Her breath was coming quickly. "How d-did you know that?" He raised one dark eyebrow and stared into her eyes. "My plates?" He nodded his head and looked down at his hands grasping her legs. He reached for her liquid heat again. She started panting. "H-how old are you?"
"Thirty-nine." He reached down and slid off one of her sandals, then the other. He picked up one delicate little foot and held it in the palm of his hand. "What size are these?" He ran his index finger over the dark pink paint on her toes.
"F-five" She watched, enthralled by his gentleness. "Have you ever been married? Do you have any kids?"
"No, and no." His hands kept running back and forth, up and down her legs, all the way to her feet. The sweep of his hands was smooth, firm. "What else do you want to know? I have two sisters, both in New Orleans. My parents are retired and living in Florida. I was raised Catholic, but I don't go to church. I'm heterosexual and don't have any STD's. Does that about cover it?"
Amy nodded her head. She couldn't get any words to form. His hands were petting her. Moving from the inside of her thighs to the feminine heat between and then back down again.
"You are so beautiful. Do you know how beautiful you are?" His words were enticing. Magical. She shook her head, denying his words. "You're gorgeous. Do you know how long I've wanted your gorgeous little body?"
"I'm not little." Her words were soft, subdued.
"Not little?" He ran his hands down the outside of each leg until he reached her calves. He wrapped each hand around an ankle and lifted her legs slightly. "Look." Her heart started pounding when she saw his big hands around her ankles. His fingers completely wrapped around her and still overlapped. Excitement gripped her. That was so sexy. He was so sexy. He moved closer to her and wrapped her legs around his waist. She sucked in a breath.
"W-wait. You were going to get us some w-wine, remember?" Her soft, pliant little body was spread out on his couch. Her breath came in sporadic little bursts of energy. He was ready for her, but he also felt calm, just from having her here, all to himself. He would indulge her for awhile, if it meant she would relax and let him have all that softness.
He lifted himself to his feet. "Stay there. Don't even think about moving from that spot." His words were rough, assertive. Amy sat and quietly tried not to lose her mind. She had to get a grip. Everything that was happening seemed like a dream. She was held immobile by the cravings rushing through her.
He came back to her in less than a minute. He set two wine glasses on the coffee table and eased back onto the couch next to her. He spread his legs wide and lifted one big, booted foot and put it on the table. He clasped his hands together and raised them up behind his head. He leaned back and stared at her. He made no move to pick up his wine.
Amy watched him sprawled out next to her, taking up most of the couch. Tension ran through her as he just sat there. She picked up her glass and took a sip. Her hand was shaking so much that she had to put the glass back down.
He watched her squirming on the couch. Her nervousness was tangible. "How long have you been divorced?"
She started at the abrupt words. "Five years." She looked away from him and tried to concentrate on his house. It was a one-story ranch, out in the suburbs. The furniture was masculine and looked sturdy enough to handle his large frame. It was kept neat, with very little clutter. There was a clock hanging on one wall, and a flat-screen television mounted on another. There were no pictures, no decorations. It was a guy's house. It suited him.
"How old were you when you got married?"
"Twenty-two. Right after college." She took another sip and felt the warmth of the wine flow through her.
"Married ten years?" He was barking the questions at her, one after the other.
"Yes. "
"Bad marriage?"
"I guess." She shrugged. "We got divorced. The first five or so years were okay. The last five, we just fought. We grew apart. We both wanted out. So, we got divorced. It wasn't easy. But he's a good father, and I appreciate that about him."
He grunted. "Hmm. So, how much do you date?"
"D-date? Um, n-not a lot. But I go out. Renee, Jenny and I go out a lot. We have fun." A look of irritation crossed his face.
"Really? Where do ya'll go?" Amy felt like she was on the witness stand.
"Well, we go to different restaurants, and to the movies, shopping-"
"Restaurants? Shopping? That's it? No dancing, clubs, bar-hopping?" His voice held disbelief.
"No. Of course not-"
"Of course not? Why the hell not? You're young. Single. Unattached. Goddamn beautiful. You're not out there looking for a husband again like every other single woman in Baton Rouge?" Disbelief laced his words.