Melt (6 page)

“I don’t want anything from you.”

When she didn’t respond, he dipped his head and rasped his
tongue over the seam of her lips. She pulled away and gasped for air. Jesus,
she hadn’t been lying when she’d said how much that damn stud excited her.

“Nothing?”

“Well, not nothing. I want your gorgeous, luscious, perfect
body. Over and over again.” He cupped her chin and drew her back. Their mouths
rubbed against each other, the contact as light as satin whispering over
flushed skin. “But as far as anything beyond today, no. I’m happy with what you
have to give me.”

Though he’d said exactly what she needed to hear, her
stomach tightened. She couldn’t get into a relationship again. Not this soon.
But Justin wasn’t a casual lover. He couldn’t be. They had history. So maybe
the best thing she could do for both of them was to leave before she screwed up
their friendship.

“I don’t want to lose you.” Desperation tinged her words,
but it couldn’t be helped. Dammit, he mattered. Too much. “But I’m not in a
place where we could continue this, even if you wanted to. Even if I wanted to.
Rob—”

His hands framed her face until his eyes, intently blue in
the growing daylight, were all she could see. “Tell me he didn't hurt you.”

When she hesitated, his expression became murderous so
swiftly her heart stopped. “Goddammit, Kylie, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Justin, listen to me. Listen,” she commanded, trying to
stem her shock. How had she missed his quick temper too? And if she’d missed so
much, who did she care about, really? The man she’d thought she knew was only a
figment of her imagination. “He didn’t lay a hand on me. Not like that. He
didn’t abuse me, not in the traditional sense.”

He
slitted
his eyes. “Then what
sense are we talking about?”

She took a breath. How far should she go? Could she go?
She’d never said the truth aloud. “He…likes sex. A lot. Not vanilla sex. He
pushes the limits.” She sucked in a breath. “It doesn’t hurt anybody. It’s
consensual. Mostly.” God, could she just spit it out? “He always had a big
appetite, as do I. At the beginning it was fun. Then he started withholding
things from me if I had a headache or if I wasn’t in the mood to experiment.
Affection went first. Eventually he stopped paying attention to me altogether
if I didn’t want to participate in his newest kink.” She shrugged jerkily. “So
I participated. I never got hurt. Hell, I usually even had an orgasm. He didn’t
get why I complained or why I stopped caring if he was affectionate. It was my
life, and I lived it.”

She kept her gaze straight ahead when Justin rolled away
from her and paced to the window on the far side of the room. He’d decorated as
sparsely in here as he had in the rest of the house, and the lack of
furnishings contributed to the echo of her voice. Other than the bed, the only
furniture was a small dresser, a nightstand, and a TV stand. And, she noted, a
guitar propped on a small chair in one corner. Was that how he’d gotten the
calluses?

Man, the guy had more hidden sides than a Rubik’s Cube.

“So what made you change your mind about staying?”

She shook off her thoughts about his guitar. Wasn’t exactly
important at the moment, but she’d definitely ask later. “He wanted us to try a
threesome with a woman he worked with—Darla. I told him it wasn’t my thing, and
he didn’t speak to me for days. By then I knew I had to get out, but I had to
find a place to live first. I couldn’t just walk out the door.”

“You could have always come to me. You could have stayed
here.”

“Oh yeah, right. Sure.” She laughed so she wouldn’t cry.
“Really easy to spill the details of your sex life to the guy you give extra
peanuts to on game nights.”

“Maybe not, but you didn’t seem to have too much trouble
inviting said guy to be a
part
of
your sex life, now did you?”

Shame scalded her cheeks, though she wasn’t sure what she
was embarrassed about. That she’d just trivialized their relationship, how
willingly she’d gone to bed with Justin, or what she’d lived with for years.
Years she would never get back. “So does that make me a slut? I just told you
I’m game for anything.” She sat up on the opposite side of the bed from Justin.
“I bet nothing in that drawer of yours would make me bat an eyelash. I’ve
probably tried things you haven’t.”

“Pleasure isn’t wrong, Kylie.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“The problem is when it’s not about pleasure.” He came
around the bed and sat down next to her, as comfortably naked with her as she
was with him. It was as if they’d been lovers for years, not hours. “Just
because you enjoyed some of what you did doesn’t make him any less culpable.
Guilting
someone into sex is a damn short leap from rape.”

She started to argue, to explain, then fell silent. From his
clenched jaw, he wouldn’t hear anything she said right now anyway. And she
wasn’t even sure what the truth was anymore. Somewhere along the way,
attraction had turned into compliance and eventually indifference. When it had
really bothered her, she’d said no. The rest of the time she’d just gone along.
Rob had said he loved her, and she’d always wanted someone to pay attention to
her the way he had. By the time she’d grown beyond needing his acceptance,
giving in had become a habit.

Which made her culpable too.

“Don’t sit there and blame yourself. Just don’t.” Justin
gripped her chin and stared hard into her eyes. “It’s different with us. No
matter what you saw in that drawer, no matter how many ways I’ve dreamed of
taking you, I wouldn’t demand anything you weren’t eager to give.” He allowed
her a moment to process that, then rose and took her hand. “Feel like a shower
and breakfast? You must be hungry. You barely picked at your dinner last
night.”

That was it? His anger had gone as quickly as it had come.
All that was left behind was the Justin she knew, the one who cared about
people as easily as he breathed.

She stood, smiling faintly as her stomach burbled. “Yeah, I
could eat.”

“You like sausage?” he asked, grabbing something for her to
wear from his dresser before leading the way into the master bath.

“Yours, yes.” She laughed as he turned and pulled her
against him for a hard, hot kiss.

“To eat,” he said when they finally broke apart.

“Oh, I definitely intend to sample this, don’t you worry.”
Grinning, she wrapped her hand around his cock and gave it a nice long squeeze.

He laughed and set aside the clothes. Then he tugged open
the shower door. “Get in there and get nice and clean for me so I can dirty you
up again.” With another kiss and a lascivious eyebrow wiggle, he left her
alone.

She watched him walk away. God, what an ass. Licking her
lips at the familiar pulse between her thighs, she smiled and got into the
shower.

For once she wasn’t dreading getting through Thanksgiving
Day. If that meant she was in over her head, then she’d just damn well have to
learn how to swim.

“You might need this,” Justin said, popping his head back in
the door. He held a plastic grocery bag. As she stared at him blankly, he
nodded at her left ankle. Which, of course, started to hurt just enough to be
annoying. “I’ll help you tie it around your leg. Unless you’d rather do another
sponge bath…” He waggled his brows.

“No, thanks.” At his disappointed look, she laughed and
extended her left leg so he could slip the bag over it. “Maybe later, though.”

“Uh-huh. Pathetic save.” He managed to tie it off around her
calf and then helped her into the shower. “I’ll go start breakfast. Think you
can handle it from here?”

She nodded and reached for the soap. If she was careful and
quick, she might be able to manage it. “Yep, I got this. Thanks.”

And she did. Sort of. She soaped and lathered and shampooed
under the hot water for a few heavenly minutes. Being surrounded by steamy
water redolent with Justin’s yummy soap made her feel safe and happy, and she
found herself dawdling under the spray despite her fear of a soggy bandage. His
shampoo smelled woodsy, so she used it sparingly. Still, she sniffed the wet
ropes of her hair more than once, remembering the nights she’d leaned across
the bar to adjust his tie—he always loosened it the minute he left work—and
smelled that very scent.

“Little crush, huh?” she muttered, finally making herself
leave her warm haven. She pulled off the bag and then dried the bandage,
pleased to discover it was only slightly damp at the edges.

She found him in the kitchen, wearing nothing but
unbuttoned, faded jeans as he manned the sizzling sausage on the stove. Even
his feet were bare. “Look at you, Mr. Domestic.”

He grinned. “Sit. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

Instead of sitting, she examined her surroundings. The room
wasn’t big, but it was cozy. A circular table for two stood in one corner, and
the butcher-block countertop in the center of the room held a cherry knife
block and the ingredients for a king’s feast. Red-and-white gingham curtains
framed the storybook windows, revealing the white wonderland beyond.

She rushed to the window to take in his backyard. Or what
she assumed was his backyard, because snow obscured everything. “Holy fuck!
There must be three feet out there.”

“Only two.”

“Did you get out your ruler?”

“Nah. We have this nifty thing now called the news.” The
smirk in his voice would’ve made her jab her knuckles in his ribs if she hadn’t
been so focused on the trees beyond his yard. The woods were right behind his
house, bisected by the trail that even now a few diehard snowmobilers were
trying to traverse. She and Rob lived—had lived—less than a mile away on the
other side of the trail.

“Sausage link for your thoughts.”

She glanced up to see a gleaming brown piece of meat dangling
from a fork just above her lips. She took the bite gratefully, swallowing and
groaning simultaneously. “Damn, Norton, you cook like a chef too? Why don’t I
just have your babies and live in sin with you for the rest of my life?”

“Why don’t you?” He replaced the fork with his mouth, and
his free hand slid under his baggy T-shirt to cup her breast. “I’d happily keep
you barefoot and pregnant.”

Kylie bit his tongue playfully and pulled away. It was just
a joke, just as her comment had been. “I’m only barefoot because you don’t have
any socks.”

“I have socks. They’re in the laundry room with your clothes
from last night.” He slid his feet under hers, and she laughed as he curled his
toes under her arches. “Part of my diabolical plan to remove all clothes from
the house so you have no choice but to wander around naked.”

“Oh, is that it?
Shoulda
clued me
in. I don’t mind being naked all that much.”

He nuzzled her neck, running that damned ball stud on his
tongue up and down the column of her throat. “Tease.” The hand on her breast
pinched her nipple. “So about those thoughts…”

A bit distracted by his dual assault, she tipped her head to
give him more access. “We live on the other side of the trail. So we’re
neighbors. Sort of.”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and his fingers stilled.
“You mean used to live. You’re not going back there.”

His tone smacked a little too much of possession for her
taste. “I hadn’t planned on it, no,” she said, trying not to sound as annoyed
as she felt.
Jeez, let a guy put his
hands on your body, and next thing you know, he acts like he owns you
. “I
have to get my stuff, but—”

“I’ll get it for you.”

“Oh no, you won’t.” Kylie shifted out of his embrace and
stalked over to the back door. She gazed out the pane of glass, surprised to
see a ball of gold fluff sitting on the top step, lapping from a blue bowl of
milk.

Justin joined her and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“That’s Cody. I feed him outside because he won’t come in the house. He enjoys
his freedom.”

“Even in this much snow?”

“Some things won’t be caged.” He shrugged and met her gaze
when she risked a sideways glance at him. “I’m okay with giving space.”

Because she wasn’t sure if he was talking about the cat or
her, she bit her lip and stayed silent.

After a minute he went back to the stove. She heard him
chopping and dicing and the sizzle of oil. The scents of ham and green pepper
filled the air. But she didn’t look back at him, and she didn’t make
conversation. She gnawed on her ragged thumbnail and watched Cody, at least
until a
ding
from the countertop took
her attention.

“Get that, would you?”

“Uh, sure.” She walked over to the stainless steel box with
the glowing red light on top. Seeing no Off button, she unplugged it from the
wall and tried to figure out how to lift the lid. Once she’d slipped a nail
under the front latch, she raised the top and sucked in a hot, yeasty breath.
“Bread.” Her eyes actually watered as she glimpsed the thick, dark loaf. “Oh
God, you made bread.”

“Pumpernickel. Goes well with the sausage and omelets. Which
are ready, by the way. Plates are in the cupboard above the counter.” He
gestured with his shoulder, and she went to grab two bright blue stoneware
plates and matching mugs for the coffee he’d set to brew.

By the time the table was set and the food put in front of
her, she was beginning to think she hadn’t even scratched the surface of Justin
Norton.

She ate as wolfishly as the cat had for the first few
minutes, in between long sips of the most decadent coffee she’d ever tasted.
“I’ll throw away my birth control pills,” she declared after she’d devoured
half the omelet. “We’ll fuck like bunnies.”

“Half that statement’s true at least.” Grinning, Justin
ripped off a hunk of bread and dragged it through the cheese from the omelet
before feeding it to her across the table. “I’m guessing you like my cooking.”