Long Slow Burn (14 page)

The man had bent down, picked up the woman and carried her over to the bed; twisted so she landed on top of him. Her rich, dark hair tumbled over his chest; she kissed his sternum, following a path downward until Kim's eyes shot open. They weren't going to show
that.…

The camera switched to the man, the look of intense bliss on his face. Then a brief aerial shot of her between his spread legs, her hair providing tasteful cover; his hands on the back of her head, urging her on.

A half gasp escaped Kim; she couldn't help it. Her third beer went down. She was buzzed, horny as hell, vulnerable to the guy next to her. This was torture. This had the potential to end up somewhere she didn't want it to be.

A new shot with the man on top. Kissing those breasts, traveling down to her stomach and beyond. The motion slowed; he reached his target, hovering over her off-camera thighs with a hungry gleam in his eye.

Oh, no.

His tongue emerged from his half-open mouth. Even his tongue was sexy. He lowered his face.

Kim shifted, straining her hips up against the seam of her jeans. New shot, aerial again, floating in a wide circle, the man's head between the woman's legs, his hands on her breasts.

“Kim.”

“Yes.”

“I can't take this.”

“Should I turn it off?” She was whispering.

“No.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Are you turned on?”

She closed her eyes, bit on her lower lip. “Yes.”

His breath drew in sharply. He said her name on the exhale.

“Nathan, it doesn't mean I—”

“Undo your jeans.”

“I'm not going to sleep with—”

“I'm not asking you to.” He was fumbling under the blanket. A zipper went down. “We'll each take care of—”

“
No.
I'm not sitting here masturbating next to you.”

“Look.” He nodded to the screen. His hand moved under the blanket.

She should be turned off. She should be priggishly horrified. She should throw back her side of the blanket and stomp off righteously to her room.

Yet the knowledge of what lay under Nathan's side of the blanket, the idea of him touching himself, getting more and more turned on, was so arousing she felt she could come just by squeezing her thighs together.

“Kim.” He turned and gazed at her. What must be his, er, free hand, emerged from the blanket and followed a path from her temple to her cheek. “I won't touch you. Unless you want me to.”

“No. No.”
Yes. Yes, please.

He turned back to the movie. The man was on top now, moving slowly, making love to the irresistible brunette, his pleasure and hers revealed in their expressions, the motions of their hands, the soft moans and cries. Then the camera switched, and he was kneeling behind the woman, who was on her hands and knees, his buttock muscles rippling through the forward-back motion of sex. The woman's breasts swung free, along with her rich mane of hair; her mouth was open in ecstasy.

“Kim.” That whisper again, devil on her shoulder.

“What?”

“Come with me.” His fingers touched her thigh lightly, thumb moving back and forth, then his hand slid upward, brushed across her hip and disappeared, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

On screen the woman was now on top, sitting upright, her strong thighs gripping, rising up and down, her breasts swaying. The man's hands reached to cover them, his fingers playing skillfully. She tipped back her head, arched her spine.

Nathan gave a low groan; the blanket moved faster. Kim gave in.

Jeans unsnapped. Unzipped. Her hand reached down, fingers started working. Beside her Nathan moaned in time with the man clutching the woman's hips, thrusting up inside her, their bodies shrouded in shadow.

Kim's breath turned to panting. She needed more room, more access. She leaned back hard on the couch, pulled up her leg, spreading farther.

“Oh.” The syllable escaped without her permission. She was aware Nathan had lost interest in the movie, was watching her face, watching her pleasure herself, and that knowledge kicked her arousal into higher gear. She was going to come for him. She was going to come big and drive him into completely insanity.

She rubbed harder, whispered only for him, “I'm almost there.”

“Yes.” He barely made a sound, as if someone were strangling him.

She closed her eyes, arched and let herself go, sighing in pleasure at the exact same time the woman on screen reached her own release.

Nathan let out a stifled moan; Kim opened her eyes, wanting to share his moment, and found him still watching her. She held that gaze until he finally came down, laid his head on the back of the couch, breathing powerfully.

On screen, the heroine was now in her office with a pile of files, talking on the telephone about a matter of urgent company business.

Kim had no idea what to say. How had this happened? Why hadn't she been thinking of Dale and their reenergized connection? Why only being with Nathan? Pleasing Nathan? Wanting to be made love to by Nathan?

She forced back her panic. It was okay. They'd both gotten carried away. Nathan hadn't touched her, nor she him; this changed nothing between them. Consenting adults, friends, turned on by a movie, were open and liberated enough to
take care of it. A practical solution. Much better than sitting there getting so horny they did something together both of them would later regret.

“Kim, look at me.”

Her panic came back, an instinctive fear that she couldn't ignore. What did he want? Was he going to say some horrible line from the
Man's Guide? Don't get any ideas that this meant something.
Or
that was hot, could you go get me another beer?

She couldn't bear it.

“Look at me?”

She looked, but it was like dragging her gaze through Super Glue. His expression was calm, thoughtful, curious, almost hopeful. What was he feeling? She couldn't ask. He'd never tell her. He probably didn't even know.

This man would never tell her the sun rose and set over her bed.

She needed
right now
to stop wanting him to.

“You okay?” The tenderness in his tone undid her. It was all she could do not to break down and start bawling.

“Sure. Tell your friend that was some movie.” Her voice cracked. Her lip started trembling. She looked away with the excuse of zipping her jeans. He picked up the remote and turned the movie off, leaving the room dark except for the streetlight glow through the unshaded windows.

Silence. Silence so profound she had to look back at him. He swallowed, appearing uncertain now. She couldn't stand it.

“What's the matter, nothing in your guide covers what to say after getting off with your female roommate?”

He didn't crack a smile. She wasn't joking. Still he said nothing.

“Well, this was great. Let's not do it again.” She got up off the couch, headed for her room.

“Why not?”

She turned back.
Why not?
“Because, Nathan, oddly
enough, in sexual matters, women prefer to feel at least the tiniest bit special.”

“You were right there with me, Kim. Every second.”

She sagged against her doorway. What was wrong with her? She knew what she was doing when it happened; now she was acting as if it should have meant something. “You're right. I'm sorry. I don't know why I got so upset. It was just…unexpected, I guess.”

“It was definitely unexpected.” His voice turned hoarse; he cleared his throat. “I'll never forget what you looked like when you came.”

She studied him, trying to interpret the emotion she glimpsed behind those words. But, as usual, understanding what Nathan was feeling was an exercise in frustration.

Though come to think of it, understanding what she was feeling right now about Nathan wasn't going much better.

All she knew was that something had started while they sat together in front of that scene, something that probably had its origins the first time he kissed her. And she wasn't at all sure now that it could be stopped.

 

N
ATHAN LAY IN BED,
a lost cause, since at two in the morning he wasn't even close to sleeping. On the one hand memories of Kim haunted him, of the way she'd abandoned herself to the erotic images on the screen, the way she'd ditched her shyness and reserve and become a totally sexual creature.

He'd probably never sleep again.

On the other hand, her parting shot.
Women prefer to feel at least the tiniest bit special.
The irony was sickening. She had no idea. And that was the problem right there: she had no idea. His bumbling attempts to show he wanted to become the man in her life had been inadequate. He should have made love to her tonight. He should have told her how he felt. He should have…

Should have, should have. Was that the state of his life? Was that the defining characteristic? Twenty-six years old and only thinking about what he should have done? Should
have finished his thesis by now. Should have gotten a job in his field. Should have been working harder. Should have, should have.

He was making himself sick.

Kim had made it clear what she wanted: to feel special. To have a man she could rely on, a mature, ambitious guy with his house in order, one able to communicate clearly what he thought and felt. And what had Nathan done? Kissed her a few times and whacked off next to her. Sure, that made her feel special. Mature and ambitious? He drank too much beer and watched too much TV. Communicate clearly? When that woman had jogged by them on the beach, he'd been staring, yeah, stunned that he felt nothing, no desire to pursue, no immediate fantasy of what she looked like under her clothes. He'd watched her the way you watch a painting in an art museum. Lovely, but not something you want or have to have in your life. Had he told Kim any of that?

No.

Tonight on the couch had he told her what he felt, what it had cost him to hold back from touching her? No.

Nice. Very nice.

He turned over and stifled a roar of frustration into his pillow.
Idiot.

He was still acting like a college frat boy. He'd hung on to that part of his life instead of moving past it, going out with Kent and Steve, frozen in adolescent boob-worship.

Kim had shown him that his path, one he'd always wanted to walk, had been crippled by immaturity and fear and lack of any appropriate male role model. No more. Starting tomorrow he was going to be man enough to take that path. Sprint down it instead of walking, to make up for lost time. Clean up his act, figure out what was going wrong with this thesis project and finish it, send out résumés, lay off the partying and start life in earnest. Show Kim he was a man to be trusted and respected. And then maybe loved.

Nathan got up, turned on his light, walked over to his
computer desk. There was enough other crap on it to fill a moving box. No wonder he never got anything done.

He cleared the mail, the laundry, the Kleenex, the cell charger…

Under a pile of books he found the envelope with the pictures from Kim's album, including the two of her with her dollhouse. He took them over to his bed, where the lamp was on, sat down and looked at the house's magnificence, at the proud little girl standing next to it, the girl who'd grow up to lose it, and to become the woman he was falling in love with.

And he suddenly knew exactly what he wanted to give her for her birthday. To show her how he felt. To show her he listened. To show her exactly how special she was to him.

“K
IM
, I
HAD SUCH A
wonderful evening with you.” Dale grabbed her hands. They'd had dinner at Lake Park Bistro, one of Milwaukee's best French restaurants, which had totally taken Kim aback because she'd thought the whole point of the evening had been to go casual. She would have been more comfortable better dressed in a place like that. But Dale had reacted to her brown twill pants and cream sweater as if she were a Playboy bunny in a bikini. Wasn't that what she wanted? A man who appreciated her for what she was and nothing more?

Yes. It was. She'd just try not to think about how she'd felt last night on the couch with Nathan for those few minutes. Confident, wild, uninhibited, as if some sexual beast lurking inside her had been set free.

After dinner, she and Dale had a romantic, if slightly freezing, walk by the lake, and he'd driven her home, parked near her building and walked with her to the front entrance.

“You are the most amazing woman. Smart, sexy, beautiful. I can't believe my luck.”

“Dale, thank you, I had a wonderful time.” She smiled, wishing she could feel a hint of wild thrills and fireworks, but so far, this man didn't light her up. All evening he'd been the perfect date, attentive, complimentary, not a great listener,
but that could come. What was missing? She couldn't name it. Maybe it was just her mood. She had the Carter proposal finished, in an envelope waiting to mail, and hadn't sent it. The design was good, but not good enough. Sometimes she wasn't even sure it was worth submitting.

On top of that, Emily's prediction had come true. The CEO of Soka had called that morning with a job offer. Interactive creative director, in charge of an entire new department positioning Soka to compete in the booming landscape of online marketing and advertising. She'd be able to hire her own designers, be responsible for bringing in new business. The salary was more than she'd ever made in her life, and included benefits and bonuses. She'd be a fool to turn down a chance like this right before her thirtieth birthday deadline.

“Omigod!” The high-pitched voice was followed by a squeal. “I totally know what you mean!”

Three hot young things approached on the sidewalk, vastly underdressed for the weather, obviously on their way to a bar or party. They passed close by, a jumble of long limbs and overexposed cleavages.

Dale didn't even glance over, didn't take his eyes from Kim's face for a second. “I am traveling again, but I want to see you when I'm back.”

He didn't even glance!
Kim felt a small rush of giddiness. That was something. “Yes, I'd like that, too.”

“You are so many things I want. I feel really hopeful about the two of us.”

“Oh, that is so…nice.” Her giddiness felt a bit squashed. She was so many things
he
wanted. Didn't he worry what she was feeling? Did he even think about it? She'd told him about Soka and he'd offered his warmest congratulations, dismissing her objections to going back to office work, saying not to worry, she'd get used to it. He'd sounded like her mother.

“Kiss me.” He leaned down; she rose to meet him. The kiss was more on target than last time, very nice, really. She
even got a small tingle. But she didn't want to rip his clothes off and climb on for a ride. Because he was wrong for her? Or because he wasn't?

“Mmm.” He kissed her again with more passion. That was better. She liked that. That held promise.

Another kiss. Pressing her close. His body was softer than Nath—

No.
She was
not
going to think about Nathan, not while in another man's arms. That wasn't fair or right.

“Dale.” She lifted her face and smiled. “I'd invite you up, but…”

“But?”

“My roommate…” She laughed awkwardly.

Dale looked incredulous. “I thought you lived alone.”

“I did. I will again. It's temporary.”

“And…she doesn't allow you to have men in your apartment?”

Kim blinked.
Uh-oh.
She had seriously walked into this one. “He.”

“You room with a
guy?
”

“Temporarily.” She cleared her throat. “He's a friend of my little brother's.”

“Three years younger, not that little.” Dale's eyes narrowed. “All those emails to me, you never mentioned him?”

“I just…” She shrugged helplessly. Why hadn't she told him? “It didn't seem important. He lost his lease. He's with me until he can find another place.”

“Okay.” Dale was studying her, suspicious now, looking for clues. “What were you inviting me up for that this man can't tolerate? And why does he have a say in any of this?”

“He doesn't.” Kim lowered her eyes miserably. There was no reason she couldn't have men up to her apartment. She just wouldn't be able to handle the awkwardness of Dale being there when Nathan walked in after his shift. Not after
what had gone on between them last night. “I assumed if you came up, we'd…continue what we started down here.”

“And he wouldn't be okay with that? Why? He's in love with you? You're in love with him?”

“No.
No.
” Her voice grew shrill. What the hell could she say? That Nathan was violently opposed to kissing before marriage? This was horrible.

“It sounds as if there's something you need to figure out here, Kim.” Dale spoke quietly, the hurt obvious in his sweet brown eyes.

Kim's stomach bottomed out. “No, there is nothing.”

He wasn't persuaded. She could see the uncertainty in his face, and she didn't blame him. She wasn't persuaded, either.

“Good night, Kim. I'll email you while I'm gone.”

“Yes, please. I'm sorry about this…misunderstanding. Really.”

He kissed her—on the cheek—and saw her safely into the building. Inside the elevator she slumped against the wall. What was she going to do? How did she get herself into such a complete and utter mess over a guy who didn't deserve her?

Up in her apartment, she went straight to the telephone and dialed Marie.

“Hey, Kim! I was just about to call you.”

“Yeah? What's up?”

“Candy is having the girls over to her house next Saturday night. Even Darcy can make it.”

Saturday was Kim's birthday, but why not? “That sounds great. Can I bring anything?”

“Uh, to an event Ms. Party Planner is throwing?”

“Right.” She got down a tall glass from the cupboard and filled it with ice. “Stupid question.”

“How was the date tonight?”

“It was okay, until I told him he couldn't come up because my roommate wouldn't like it.”

“Nathan?”

“Marie…” She filled her glass from the tap. “I don't even know why I said that.”

“Because you knew he wouldn't like it?”

“Why should he care? More to the point, why should I care? And then poor Dale wanted to know why I couldn't have men in my own apartment and I just stood there like an idiot and had no answer for him.” Tears started and she angrily wiped them away.

“Hmm. Any chocolate in the house?”

She grimaced. “I couldn't fit the tiniest crumb in my stomach. He took me to Lake Park Bistro. We had a nice evening until I ruined it.”

“Okay. What does your instinct tell you about Dale? Right for you? Or not?”

She bit her lip. “It tells me he's the type I should want.”

“That's not your instinct. That's your intellect, judging what you ‘should' want or feel, not telling you what you do.”

“My instinct is completely screwed. After Tony I refuse to trust it anymore.”

“I bet it told you Tony wasn't right, too. You will always know when you're working against your instinct because it will feel wrong. You'll be anxious and upset instead of nervous and excited. Think back to that night you and Tony got together. You were at a party first, right?”

“How do you remember all this?”

“It's my job. Go back and think.”

She took a sip of water. Okay. Back to the party before she gave herself to Tony. Or more accurately was taken by him. “I remember being uncomfortable at the party and drinking too much. Annoyed that he was paying so much attention to this other girl with the depth of a sheet of paper.”

“That's instinct right there.”

“But when we were together after…” She put the water glass down. “I felt great. It was the best sex I ever had. I felt wild and free and spontaneous and invincible.”

“I think you need to sit down and have a long listen.”
Marie's gentle voice made Kim start to relax. “Listen to what your instinct is really telling you about what you want. Forget Nathan. Forget Dale. Just ask it and listen.”

“Like some meditation thing?”

Marie snorted. “Yeah. SMT. Some Meditation Thing.”

Kim couldn't even laugh. “What if it tells me I want Nathan?”

“Then ask why. What is it you feel around Nathan that you don't feel around Dale? Make it about you, not the men. I promise it won't steer you wrong. You have all the answers you need right inside you. You just need to be patient and listen.”

Another tear fell, but with this one came a sense of relief. She had something to hang on to, some hope of directing herself out of this chaos of emotion. “Has anyone ever told you that you're a genius?”

“Only six, seven times a day.”

This time Kim could laugh, and her self-absorption lifted enough for her to remember. “Oh, my gosh, Marie, you have to tell me who that was with you on the Riverwalk.”

“Quinn Peters. He's a friend. Now listen, because I'm going to give you one more piece of advice.”

Ha! Marie dodged that one. Kim was going to have to keep at her. “More advice? I'd rather hear about—”

The front door opened. Kim started and put a hand to her chest. Nathan was home early. Thank God she didn't have Dale up here.

“Marie,” she whispered.

“I want you to pay
close
attention to Nathan.”

“Shh.” She shrank away from the kitchen door. “He's home.”

“
Hello? Kim?
We're on the
phone?
He can't
hear
me.”

Kim rolled her eyes. She wasn't going to explain how Nathan got her so damn flustered. Or how she couldn't get the image of his face when they were together on the couch out of her head. “Sorry, duh. Just…hurry.”

“Okay. Here it is. I think the guy is seriously into you. I
mean seriously. He was looking at you on the river as if you could walk it.”

“He— No, no, I—”

“Hey, Kim.” Nathan moved past her, opening the refrigerator for his evening beer.

“Oh, hi, Nathan.” She sounded so oddly robotic, he stuck his head back around the door and did a double take. She turned away.

“Take it from me, Kim. The man is either crazy in love with you, or well on his way to being there.”

Kim gasped, face flaming scarlet. “Don't say that.”

She peeked over her shoulder to see Nathan reemerge from the refrigerator with a bottle of cranberry juice, scowling.

Cranberry juice?
Were they out of beer?

“I, um, have to go now.”

Marie chuckled. “Give him a close look. Give your feelings for him an even closer look. I suspect you'll be very surprised by what you—”

“Yeah, I
really
have to go.”

“Okay, okay.” Marie was laughing harder. “See you next Saturday.”

“Right. Next Saturday. Bye.” Kim hung up and took a deep breath, aware her face was still on fire. She could barely look at Nathan. “Hi.”

He banged his glass on the counter. “That your
boyfriend?
”

“That was Marie.”

“Oh.” He looked sheepish for a second, then poured juice over ice. “Sorry.”

“You're home early.”

“Yeah.” He put the cap back on the juice. “I gave notice at work. Both jobs.”

“You
what?
” She took a step toward him. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He was looking at her over the rim of his glass. Something else was different about him. He seemed older, or taller. The same way he'd been on the beach, only that
had been a quick flash and this had been evident the second he walked in the room, and was still firmly with him. “I'm going to work full-time on finishing my thesis, sending out résumés, getting my career under way. I had a meeting with Dr. S. about local firms who might be interested in my designs. There are three or four of them, all places I'd love to work. He's really behind me.”

“Wow.
Wow.
” She stood there wanting to hug him, not sure if she should touch him after Marie's comment, and realizing the nice simple confusion she'd felt earlier was amateur hour compared to what she was feeling at the moment.

“Come with me.” He beckoned to her and walked out of the kitchen.

She followed blindly, unable to think past staying upright. “Where are we going?”

“My room.” He shoved open his bedroom door. “Take a look.”

She peeked around the jamb, not sure what to expect.

“Nathan, my God.” He'd cleaned. Seriously cleaned. Not a speck of laundry, not a paper out of place, even the windows sparkled. “You've gone all House and Garden.”

“And.” He pulled a BlackBerry out of his pocket. “Check this out. This baby will keep me organized. No more missed appointments. No more screwups.”

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. He'd taken her advice. He'd changed. For her? Was Marie right about his feelings? Kim could barely take the concept in. It seemed so…not Nathan.

He moved next to her so they could both see the screen, so they were touching side to side, so she could feel how solid he was, solid and tall and wonderful-smelling. Her instinct was certainly telling her something now. To lean against him and let him hold on to her until her world righted itself.