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Someone Like Her(29)

By:Sandra Owens


 Oh, God. What was wrong with her? “I’m sorry. Forget it.”

 “I don’t think so. Where’s your mind right now?”

 “Here?”

 “I don’t know, Maria. Are you?”

 She pulled her feet away and scooted up, leaning back against the headboard. “I want to be here.” She was ruining everything, but couldn’t seem to stop.

 He stood, kicked off his shoes, and came to the head of the bed. “Move up.” He slipped in behind her, then pulled her back against him. “Now, talk.”

 It was an order from a man used to being obeyed, and she could put a stop to everything right now and never know what it might be like with him, or she could be honest and hope he was nothing like Jonathan.

 She chose to be honest.





CHAPTER EIGHT




Had she lied about doing this before? Was that why she looked away from him, not answering? If she was a virgin, he would cram his raging lust into an airtight box and send her to her room. Even though it might well kill him. If she was saving herself for a husband, he could respect that. Wouldn’t like it, but he wasn’t about to offer himself up for the role.

 “I’ve only been intimate with one man. Jonathan.”

 That was the best thing she could’ve said, but what wasn’t she saying? He circled his arms around her chest and breathed deeply, inhaling her scent. “And?” Her head fell back on his chest, resting there as if it was a natural thing for her to do. He liked it. Maybe too much.

 “Yeah, there’s an and. I never told him about my mother, about who she was and how I knew things I shouldn’t. Whenever I thought he might like me to do something with him that I’d seen Lovey Dovey do . . . well, he didn’t. It was like I disgusted him.”

 “He’s an ass, Maria.” Jake decided he was going to kill Jonathan. In the meantime, he still didn’t understand her problem. “I’m not Jonathan. You can do anything you want with me, and I promise I’ll still respect you in the morning.”

 She gave a little laugh and twisted in his embrace to face him. “I already know that, and that’s not what I’m trying to tell you.”

 “Okay, what are you trying to say?”

 Her chin lowered and her eyes focused on his chest. “There wasn’t any pleasure for me, so I think maybe I’m immune to sex . . . you know, because of Lovey Dovey. And what if I don’t please you? I don’t want to disappoint you.”

 “You’re joking, right? Look at me.” When her eyelashes lifted, he said, “Christ, Chiquita, I’ve been hot for you all night, longer even.” He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face. With his kiss, he showed her how much he desired her.

 “Now listen,” he said when he reluctantly pulled away. “I’m glad you told me. It makes a difference. So, here’s the plan. I’ll undress you at my leisure, play with you a little, and then you can show me what you think you’ve learned from that woman you call a mother. In return, I’ll prove you aren’t immune to sex. Okay?”

 A smile slowly spread across her face. “Yeah.”

 His heart took a belly dive at the trust in her eyes. A part of him wished she wouldn’t look at him like that. He should probably warn her not to fall in love with him. If he were a wiser man, he would send her back to her room with instructions to lock her door.

 “Jake?”

 He wasn’t wise. “I’m here.” He undid the first two buttons on her blouse and slid his hand inside the red lace bra that had tortured him all evening. With his thumb he flicked her nipple, then lightly pinched it.

 “Oh, that feels good.”

 “This is just the beginning, Chiquita.”

 Her breast fit perfectly in his hand—her skin as soft as silk. He pushed her hair aside and pressed his lips against her neck, smiling when she grabbed his thighs. So, she feared she was immune to this? Not a chance. He’d barely started and already her fingers were digging into his legs.

 He undid the rest of the buttons and pulled her blouse out of the jeans. “Up,” he said, and slipped it off when she tipped forward. She leaned back onto him and he peered over her shoulder at his first glimpse of the red lace bra.

 “Give me a minute while I catch my breath. You’re beautiful, Maria.”

 She glanced down at her breasts. “Jonathan said they’re too big.”

 “Like I said, Jonathan’s an ass. I never want to hear you say his name again.”