Flawed Beauty (9 page)

She laughed at his antics. “I
wouldn’t exactly call it a sonnet.”

“Oh, you laugh now, Tate Morgan, but
before long, you’ll be begging me to hold my body against yours.”

Her lips twitched at his outrageous
statement, as he’d intended. “Is that right?”

“I’m insulted, you sound doubtful,”
he said with mock censure.

She grinned. “Begging, uh?”

As he leaned her against the door,
he placed his hands on either side of her upturned face, palms flat on the door
behind her. “Begging,” he whispered against her lips.

He pressed his lips softly and
sensuously against hers. She inhaled deeply at the contact. He flicked the tip
of his tongue delicately against her lips until she parted them. In a way that
made her toes curl, he licked into her mouth and deepened the kiss. Her heart
began to pound and she placed her hands on his hips to press closer into the
kiss. With suppressed need, he cupped her face in his hands and pressed his
body against hers, leaving no available space between them.

With a groan, he pulled back his
head, leaned his forehead against hers, and panted, “You won’t have to beg.
I’ll beg.”

He took her keys, and unlocked the
door for her.

Nervously and a little breathless,
she asked, “Do you want to come in?”

Brushing the hair from her face, he
said, “No, not tonight. I’m sorry but I’m bushed. It’s been a long weekend. I’m
not used to the late nights anymore.”

A battle seemed to be warring within
her. While she didn’t want to have sex with him on their first date, she wanted
to be the one to say no. But he was the one calling a halt to it. What did that
mean? Did he find her lacking on their date? All her insecurities rose up
within her. She put a mask over her features. She did not want him knowing how
much his approval of her meant.

Straightening, she said, “Well,
thanks for a great night. I’ll see you around.”

She turned and walked into the
house. As she stepped into the kitchen, he came up behind her and spun her
around to face him. He caught her face within his palms and pressed his lips
against hers, softly at first, then growing steadily more aggressive as he
gently coaxed her lips open and began to slide his tongue against her own.

“God, I want you. Please don’t wait
too long to beg me. Okay?” he said against her mouth.

“Okay,” she whispered.

With one last hard kiss, he dropped
his hands, and turned to go. He stopped abruptly.

“I’m
gonna
need your phone number, if you don’t mind.”

She laughed, turned, grabbed a
Post-It, and scribbled her number down. He did the same in turn.
Baby, don’t
lose my number
, he sang as he bounded down the stairs.

Locking the apartment door, Tate
leaned back against the door, folded her hands together, and pressed them
against her chest. Her happiness was edged in fear – the fear of losing her
happiness. It was a vicious cycle. He’d taken her number and he was going to
call her.
Yay
! As she’d done on her bike, she punched
the air with her fists. Yes!

Chapter 3

The
next couple weeks were a new experience for Tate. She’d never been involved in
a dating relationship with anyone. Not that she saw
Jace
all that much. His schedule certainly did not match up with hers very well. He
slept or worked while she was at school, then she slept or worked when he was
off. They did manage to spot each other over the dance floor at Zeal’s as she
waited tables and he played and sang in the band. She was happy she’d not seen
Blondie or his friends since the night they’d accosted her.

Because she was happy, she’d not
wanted to jinx it by returning to the psychiatrist, so she cancelled her appointment.
She was afraid Dr. Randall would tell her to stop whatever was going on with
her
gorgeous doctor – and that wasn’t happening.

Tate tried to not let it bother her
that every woman in the club wanted her man, if indeed, that was what he was.
She watched night after night, as screaming women swamped the stage and sent
drink after drink to him.

She and
Jace
managed to be together for a short while on Saturday and Sunday nights once the
bar closed. But he always worked the next day, so he never was able to stay
long. The more time she spent with him, the more time she wanted to spend. She
finally did understand Juliet’s sorrow in parting. His good column rose higher
than his bad column, and slowly, she let the window of her trust creep open,
little by little.

While there’d been serious groping
and toe-tingling kisses, he’d not pressed her about sex, but she didn’t know
how much longer he would want to wait – or if indeed she wanted him to. But she
was afraid of taking that final leap. A small part of her was afraid sex with
him wouldn’t be any different than with any of the others. She’d broken that
cycle a long time ago and was scared of restarting it. And deep down, she
didn’t really trust his supposed attraction to her. Why would he want
her
,
when he could have anyone?

It was now Friday night, and running
around slinging drinks and policing her tables seemed to encompass her entire
attention. She thought there must have been something in the air as she fought
off hands on her butt and suggestive requests all night long. She felt almost
dirty from all the advances she was forced to maneuver out of graciously.

Her world was made better, however,
when halfway through her shift,
Jace
drew up behind
her as she stood at the bar, cutting fruit into wedges. He wrapped his arms
around her waist and kissed the side of her neck and whispered huskily, “Dance
with me.”

“I can’t,” she murmured, as her
heart leapt into her throat.

“Why?” he asked as he nipped
playfully at her earlobe.

“Two reasons. One,
Zek
would fire me; and the second is
,
I don’t know how to dance.”

“Both good and valid points.
But I’ve cleared it with
Zek
and I’ll show you how to dance. It’ll be a slow dance.
Come on, Tate, please,” he begged.

She hesitated only briefly before
wiping her lime juice-covered hands on a dish towel and turned to him. “Lead
the way, Fred Astaire.”

He grinned and pressed his lips to
her forehead before tugging her behind him to the dance floor. He was right;
the next song was a slow song. He positioned them in the middle of the crowd on
the dance floor and tugged her closer to him by placing his hands on her hips.
He wrapped her arms around his neck and slid his around her waist.

“Now, just follow me, okay?” he
whispered next to her ear.

He moved them in slow circles in
time to the beat of the song. Loud enough for only her to hear him, he sang
along with the soloist. Could life get any better than this? Here she was, Tate
Morgan, slow dancing with this magnificent man, who was just so damned sexy it
hurt her heart just to look at him. She curled her fingers into his silky black
hair and pressed herself tightly against him as they swayed. She listened as he
sang against her ear the words of a Bruno Mars song,
It
Will Rain.

“
Cause there’ll be no sunlight if
I lose you, baby; there’ll be no clear skies if I lose you, baby. Just like the
clouds, my eyes will do the same if you walk away, everyday it will rain, rain,
rain…”
He stopped singing and pulled back slightly. She lifted her face up
to stare into his exquisite blue eyes. Slowly, he lowered his lips to hers and
kissed her tenderly. He slid his hands up her body until his hands captured her
face and he deepened the kiss. She couldn’t tell if they were still dancing or
not… and she didn’t care. All she cared about was being with this man right
now, with his lips devouring hers with soft, sensual licks of his tongue. She
was breathless and panting when he pulled away. Staring up into the fathomless
depths of his eyes, she knew she was falling in love with him. How could she
not? The song ended all too soon.

“Thanks for the dance,” he murmured,
lightly pressing his lips against hers once more, making her feel desired and
wanted.

She went back to work on lighter
feet, and she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.

After the nightclub closed and he
walked her up to her apartment, he spun her lightly in his arms and held her
close. “I have to work a double tomorrow, so I won’t be able to see you until
Sunday. How about you come and spend the afternoon with me? It’ll just be you
and me… for longer than an hour. Imagine the possibilities,” he said with a
grin.

She swallowed at his words. Fear ran
up her spine and her heart began to pound. She closed her eyes when he lowered
his lips to hers and kissed her softly.

When he drew back, she said, “I
don’t know. I have a big project due next week.”

He brushed his fingertips across her
face before leaning in to press his lips against her forehead. “Please think
about it, okay? I’m going to be catching up on some basketball games and you
can do your project at my place. I won’t distract you, I promise.”

Her lips twitched at the thought
that he wouldn’t distract her. “I’ll think about it. Call me tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he murmured as he pulled her
close and kissed her thoroughly.

§§§

It was Sunday and she had just
finished her self-defense class at G-Force, as well as a much-needed workout.
Every look, every touch, every kiss, from
Jace
had
left her sexually frustrated. She wanted him desperately but was still afraid.
She now knew what an alcoholic felt like. While she knew she shouldn’t want
him, she couldn’t stop the longing. He was like a drug in her blood. As she
trudged up the wooden stairs to her apartment, her
cellphone
vibrated in her pocket. Lifting it, she saw it was Toby, her foster-mother.

“Hey, Toby,” she answered.

“Hey, yourself.
Have you lost my number? I haven’t
heard from you in weeks. What’s going on with you?” Toby asked.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. You know
me, nothing but school and work.”

There was a pause on the line. “Thor
told me you were dating someone,” Toby said quietly.

Tate cringed. “I guess you could say
that.”

“Are you being careful?” Toby asked.

When most people asked that
question, they were concerned with pregnancy or maybe sexual-transmitted
diseases, but Tate understood the hidden context. Toby had lived through Tate’s
last year in high school – specifically her sick need to debase herself with a
string of nameless boys. But she’d put that behind her… hadn’t she? She’d not
been with anyone since coming to the University of Florida – almost
three-and-a-half years.

“Yes,” she murmured.

Toby cleared her throat. “Well,
good
. I was worried. You just pulled your life back
together. I’d hate for you to slip back to…” she drifted off.

“How’s Markus?” Tate asked, striving
to change the subject.

“Not as good as we’d like. He’s
scheduled for surgery in the next month. I’ll let you know.” Toby paused for a
beat before continuing. “Tate, Markus and I are always here for you. You know
that, right?”

“Sure,” Tate answered by rout.

“Okay, well take care and I’ll talk
to you soon. Bye.”

“Bye,” Tate replied.

Flashes of sweaty bodies pressing
her down once more filled her mind. Resolutely, she forced them away. That was
a long time ago. She was not that person anymore.

§§§

Jace’s
apartment complex was situated
about a block from
Shand’s
Hospital. It was a newer
complex with rough-hued, red blocks on its façade, and gleaming glass in the
front that, during the day, would allow the sun to stream in and light the
entire lobby area.

It was the first time Tate had been
to his apartment, and she was a little nervous. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t
as if they’d never been alone together. But today felt… different.

The elevator dinged as the doors
slid opened. He punched in the fifth floor and the smooth ascent had them there
in no time. The halls to the apartments were painted
an off
-white,
with scatterings of floral arrangements sitting around on shiny wooden tables.
Sconces illuminated the hall, throwing light upward towards the ceiling.

Instead of using a key, he slipped a
credit card-like card into a slot – almost like hotels used. His apartment was
softly hued in sage greens and creams. Tate bet his mother or a woman had
decorated it, as it had the definite touch of a woman. The huge living room had
mammoth bookcases which lined one wall with a huge, black, plasma-screen TV in
between. She cringed when she compared his place to her own apartment. Not that
Jace
ever made her feel bad about her poor
college-life existence. But for her, and the life she’d led, this was yet
another bucket of water to throw in their great divide. She wondered what he
saw in her… and how much longer he would continue seeing it.

It was such a rarity for their
schedules to align like this – and of course he’d expect her to spend it with
him – so here they sat in
Jace’s
apartment –

together
. While she wasn’t particularly
interested in March Madness, apparently, Dr.
Jace
Staton
couldn’t get enough of the basketball games which
aired night after night. Supposedly working on her huge school project, here
she sat with her papers scattered all around her on the floor.
Jace
sat nearby with his feet alternatively kicked up on
the coffee table or slammed down on the floor, depending on whatever travesties
happened in the game he’d recorded from earlier in the week. He had a
basketball in between his hands that he spun or tossed up as the mood struck
him. Tate liked watching the play of his muscles as they bunched and retracted.
He was just so darned sexy! And she had to admit, she liked him like this; with
his hair ruffled, screaming at the television – relaxed and passionate was an
awesome combination.

She gradually found herself, more
often than not, with her elbow on the end of the coffee table, head on her hand,
as she watched him as he watched the game. He was in a pair of grey sweatpants
and a white T-shirt which proclaimed: “I’m a man of the ‘C’”, which depicted a
college student with a beer in one hand, and a fishing pole in the other with a
‘C’ snared on its line. Tate doubted
Jace
had ever
received a ‘C’ in his life.

His dark hair, usually cut
professional short, was getting a little long and the edges were beginning to
curl. He’d not shaved today, so he possessed a sexy five o’clock shadow. Her
stomach muscles tightened at just how yummy he was. Feeling the weight of her
stare, he glanced over and grinned.

“You’re staring at me again,” he
jested.

“Uh
huhhmm
.”

“You’re never going to finish if you
don’t stop.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh.

Flashing a sexy little smile that
would make angels weep,
Jace
slid to his knees and
crawled towards her with mock menace. “Well, if the case being is, you are on a
little break, I know several things we can do to help you… relax,” he said
suggestively.

“Do you now?”

“Oh yes,” he murmured when he came
to within a hairsbreadth of her face.

With his hands and knees supporting
his weight, he leaned slightly forward and placed his lips softly against hers.
This very delicate contact sent a sizzle of electricity through her body. Her
chest tightened and her breathing became shallow and more rapid – all just from
this small contact. She stayed perfectly still, waiting to see what he would do
next. She liked his sexy little game. With the tip of his tongue, he licked
across the seam of her lips, and she gasped at the sensual feel. He took
advantage of her slightly parted lips to slip his tongue in between them. Her
heart began to pound as he licked slow and easy into her mouth. The man knew
how to kiss.