Burn for You (15 page)

“Yes.”

They’d relaxed into the dance and the conversation, moving effortlessly in time with one another. She was athletically built, but surprisingly graceful as well, and his traitorous brain began wondering how well they might move together under other circumstances.

“Your, ah…” What had they been talking about again? “Your brother—he was married in the Catholic church?”

She moved her gaze from over his shoulder to his face, her brown eyes questioning. “Yes, why?”

“Well, I was just thinking…if your family’s Catholic, it’s surprising your mom would try to set you up with another woman. I wouldn’t think she’d be okay with that.”

Victoria sighed and smiled. “I know. That’s what’s so awful about my mother.”

“I’m not following,” Jason said, returning her smile.

“Well, I couldn’t even stay mad at her. Because I knew she loved me so much and wanted me to be happy so badly in her terribly misguided way that she would’ve sacrificed some of her less-progressive church friends and her relationship with my grandparents to support me.”

“She sounds pretty amazing.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me. I’ve been trying to work up some real anger over the situation.”

He laughed, gradually moving them to the outskirts of the dance floor where it was less crowded.

“So, what’s your mother like?” Victoria asked, smiling up at him.

Jason shrugged, shutting himself off from any memory of his mother that might pop up and ruin this perfectly enjoyable dance. “Don’t have one.”

Chapter 12

If the words had been suspended in a thought bubble above her head, she absolutely would have popped that bubble and sent those words scattering. But Victoria couldn’t make them disappear. The question had been asked, and it had completely wiped the easy-going smile from his face. The shutters were drawn on his expression the moment she’d said the word
mother
.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay.” He tightened his hold on her waist reassuringly. “I was very young when she died. I barely remember her.”

Lord, that almost made it worse. To grow up without a mother and to have so few memories of her to hold onto on top of it—Victoria couldn’t imagine.

“So…it was just you and your dad then?”

“Nope. Never knew my dad. He was never in the picture.”

Open mouth. Insert foot. If melting through the floor was an option at this point, she totally would’ve done it. “Jason, I’m so sorry…”

He smiled, his expression returning to the laid-back look she was used to seeing on his face. “Victoria, it’s fine. I did all right. I’m sure lots of people have had it worse.”

Maybe, but not many. She had a million questions. Who had he grown up with? Had they treated him well? What had his childhood been like? But she wouldn’t ask any of those questions for fear of bringing up more bad memories.

Not really thinking about what she was doing, she rested her chin on his shoulder and set her mind to coming up with a way to reclaim their earlier light-hearted mood.

She liked that they were close in height. It made dancing together easy and comfortable. His cheek brushed against hers and she closed her eyes, moving closer to him and feeling a little warm from the champagne she’d had with dinner.

It was difficult to think of what she wanted to say to lighten the mood when her skin seemed to have gone into hypersensitivity mode. She tingled everywhere he touched her—his strong hands at her lower back, the slight scruff of his five-o’clock shadow at her cheek, the warm puff of air from his breath on her neck. He smelled good too. Like soap and freshly pressed fabric.

The romantic strands of Norah Jones ended much too soon, and the DJ started a bass-filled club song that she had no interest in dancing to. She leaned back a little in Jason’s arms. “You want to go get some air?”

“Sure.”

She led the way out of the ballroom, down the stairs, and out to the hotel’s courtyard. It was dark but cozy with some soft light coming from a few well-placed Chinese paper lanterns. The cool air felt divine after being out on the hot dance floor, and she stretched her arms out and raised her face to the sky, reveling in the evening breeze.

The sliding doors to the courtyard were wide open and an incoherent symphony of giggling female conversation floated outside, but one voice could be heard above all the others.

“I heard they’re just friends.” It sounded like Barbie.

“Well, of course they’re just friends. I hear Tony’s sister is more into women than men, if you know what I mean.”

Victoria’s mouth dropped open and she looked at Jason, clapping a hand over her mouth to cover her appalled laughter. He grinned but shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Barbie’s voice entered the conversation again, but this time with a bit of bite to it. “No, please tell us what you meant, I don’t think you made it obvious enough the first time.” The sarcastic response raised Barbie a half a step in Victoria’s book. “Vicki’s not interested in women, you twit.”

Yes, Barb—Beth Ann—was good people for sure. She took back all the bimbo jokes she’d ever entertained herself with at Beth Ann’s expense.

“She’s in love with Graham.”

Victoria caught Jason’s gaze and emphatically shook her head, mouthing, “That’s all in the past.”

His raised brows and skeptical grin answered,
really
?

“I think I could help her out,” Beth Ann said. “I wouldn’t mind taking that Jason off her hands for the evening so she could cozy up with Graham.”

Okay, scratch that. Barbie was back to being a bimbo. Victoria crossed her arms and frowned at Jason who was chuckling and shaking his head with his hands raised in surrender, as if to say he didn’t want anything to do with the leggy, busty, blonde goddess that was Barbie.

Right.

“Well, I don’t know why she wastes her time pining after Graham,” the first voice said. “Like he’d ever be interest in a woman like her.”

A woman like her? And what exactly was a woman like her? Embarrassment heated Victoria’s cheeks. And this time it wasn’t embarrassment for the cruel gossips making fools of themselves inside. It was embarrassment for herself. For the sad excuse for a woman people evidently thought she was.

Jason grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the open doorway, leading her further into the courtyard. They sat on a stone bench on the other side of a beautiful water fountain, and the rushing spray of the water drowned out the voices of the women inside.

“Don’t listen to them,” Jason said. “If Graham doesn’t see what he’s missing, that’s his loss.”

Victoria snorted. “Maybe, but they’re right. I’m not Graham’s type at all. I’m beginning to see that now.”

“And what’s Graham’s type?”

“Ultra feminine damsels in distress.”

Jason chuckled, shaking his head and propping his elbows on his knees, his hands hanging relaxed between his legs. “You’re right. That is definitely not you. You’re better than that.”

Victoria smiled and looked up at the sky, wishing there were more stars visible near the city. Out here in the courtyard, with the Chinese lanterns and the beautiful summer night, with Jason’s low chuckle the only sound other than the fountain—it was almost…romantic.

She cleared her throat and straightened, cracking the mental whip to stop herself from heading down that road. She’d done this before. Romanticized moments with Graham. Moments that in hindsight were nothing more than two friends talking.

The catty female voices returned and Victoria stiffened. They were headed this way. She couldn’t see them around the large fountain, but she could hear them loud and clear.

“All I’m saying is she doesn’t have what it takes to hold that hot cop’s attention. You wait. As soon as I find him, he’ll be wrapped around my little finger.”

Before she could even react, Jason scooped her into his lap, dug his fingers into her short hair and held her face to his. She murmured a small protest against his lips, but quickly realized he was doing this for her. To help her save face in front of those awful women.

She heard a quick intake of breath and knew they’d been stumbled upon. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to turn around and see their faces right now. To see what they thought of her sitting wantonly on Jason’s lap getting the life kissed out of her.

But her thoughts weren’t on them for long. She heard the rustling of clothes and the quick retreat of several pairs of high-heeled feet, but she no longer cared about that, because what had started as a closed-mouth hard kiss was quickly turning into something else.

His hold on her head gentled and the pressure of his mouth lessened until it was little more than a caress. He sampled her lips with a quick lick of his tongue and the groan of pleasure that followed that first taste let her know how much he liked it. He leaned back just enough to search her face with those hypnotic blue eyes of his while he skimmed his thumb over her lower lip. His gaze dropped to her mouth again and she took the lead, leaning in and tasting him for herself.

Salty and a little sweet, he tasted like heaven. She let her tongue explore—timidly at first but growing bolder with each low groan from his throat. He released her head and moved his hands to her lower back, pulling her closer and sliding his hands up her spine. She pressed herself against him, loving the feel of his hard chest against her.

She tried to get lost in the kiss, but doubts began to creep in. A warning voice from the self-preservation quadrant of her brain that said maybe she was reading this situation all wrong. Maybe he hadn’t kissed her out of some romantic, chivalrous inclination. Maybe he just didn’t want those catty bridesmaids to think he was available. Either way, whatever the reason he’d kissed her—to protect her or to free himself from Barbie—it wasn’t because he was interested in her.

But then again, maybe she didn’t care why he was kissing her. All that mattered was that he was, and it felt amazing.

“I think they’re gone now,” she whispered against his lips.

“Good.” He moved to kiss her neck, slowly making his way down until he reached the top of her butterfly tattoo.

Head falling back, she sighed from the pleasure of the warm heat of his mouth. She let herself get lost in the sensations once again and forced the warnings in her head to retreat, and any other protests she might’ve offered died a quick and sudden death when he kissed the sensitive spot between her breasts.

She’d given him an out. She’d said the girls were gone. If he’d wanted to end this charade, he could have. But he hadn’t, and Victoria was suddenly desperate for more. More of his lips on her skin. More of his hands on her body. More of him.

Surrendering to the pleasure, she placed her hands at the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

* * *

He needed to let her go. What the hell was he doing?

What he’d wanted to do all damn night. That’s what.

“Do you have any idea how hot this is?” He skimmed his tongue over her skin, tracing the top of the butterfly wing. “It’s been tempting me all night, making me wonder what these wings lead to.”

He felt the vibration of her laugh beneath his lips. “Not much, I’m afraid.”

Smiling, he cupped her small but firm breasts. “Shh. They’ll hear you.”

“Who’ll hear me?” she asked, giggling.

“Your beautiful tits.” Lowering his head again, he kissed the exposed skin at the top of one breast. “Don’t listen to her, girls. You’re perfect.”

He hooked one finger over the top of her dress, dipping it inside and skimming her tight nipple with the back of his finger. She let loose the most delicious moan and arched her back, giving him easier access. He needed no second invitation. He toyed with the hard bud while nibbling his way back up her collarbone, her neck, her chin, finally finding the sustenance of her lips. They tasted like champagne with a hint of peach and her skin smelled of vanilla and oranges. He feasted on her like a starved man until heat consumed him, making his cock ache with need.

She leaned into his kiss and her bottom moved against his hard length, torturing him in the best possible way.

“I have a room,” she whispered, and the words went straight to his cock.

“Yeah?” he asked, surprised at how out of breath he sounded. Granted, it’d been a while, but he couldn’t recall ever wanting someone as desperately as he wanted Victoria right now.

“Should we go?” she asked.

Taking a deep breath, he rested his forehead on her collarbone. She’d had to phrase it as a question, hadn’t she? If she’d just said, “Let’s go,” he would’ve been halfway to the elevator before she finished that tiny two-word sentence. But she’d asked, “Should we go?” And he felt a certain level of responsibility in answering that question.

Should they go?

“Jason?”

“I’m thinking.”

She laughed, low and sultry, and then weaved her fingers through the hair at his nape. She wasn’t making this any easier.

“Is it really that difficult of a question?”

He sighed and raised his head. “Look, Victoria. I really like you…”

Her face fell, the look of rejection in her large brown eyes as painful as a knife to his chest. She started to slide off his lap.

“Wait.” Arms around her waist, he held her in place. “I’m not finished. I think it’s quite obvious how much I want you.” He was still granite hard beneath her. “But we’re friends now, and I don’t want to fuck that up.”

She tilted her head, giving what he’d said some thought.

“Look,” he said. “Relationships go south. I would hate to walk into the firehouse one day and have it be awkward between us. Or worse, have you avoid me completely.”

She nodded but still appeared to be turning something over in her head, her brown-eyed gaze focused somewhere over his shoulder.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“I’m thinking I never get to have any damn fun.”

He laughed, surprised by her answer and charmed by her adorable pout.

“I’m serious. Do you know how many years I pushed guys away because I was holding out some stupid hope that Graham and I would end up together?”

“How many?”