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Authors: Wendy S. Marcus

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BOOK: Secrets of a Shy Socialite
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He kissed the sensitive cove at the base of her ear. Oh so
gentle. His hips maintained their unhurried rhythm. Forward. Then back. Over and
over. His fingers teased. “How about I spend the next couple of hours
demonstrating the difference?” He kissed along the line of her jaw to her chin.
He touched his lips to hers. So tender, nothing like the mashing, passionate
kisses she now associated with sex.

Sex. Not making love.

When he lifted his head she said, “We already had sex.”

“Honey, I’m not proud to admit it, but what we had was a
sloppy, drunken version of sex I want to eradicate from your memory.” He started
to slide down her body.

“Hey,” she said. “I haven’t agreed to anything.” Yet.

He pushed up her cotton tee. “But you will.” He set his mouth
to her breast, swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucked and Oh. My.
Goodness. Without conscious thought, “Yes,” shot from her mouth like a cork from
an agitated bottle of bubbly.

He moved to her other breast. The feel of his triumphant grin
against her skin gave her pause. This is what Justin did. Seduce. Convince. Use
whatever means necessary to get what he wanted. Being treated like just another
conquest didn’t sit right, regardless of how much she wanted him, so she forced
out a, “Stop,” and pushed him away.

He lifted his head and looked at her, confused. Surprised.

“Annie and Abbie will be up soon,” she said. “I have to
go.”

She expected him to bargain or cajole.

He didn’t.

He did, however, move up her body, slowly, setting his moist
tongue to her neck for the last part of his journey up to whisper in her ear,
“Tonight, then. After work.” He blew out a hot, shaky breath. “Baby, tonight.
What I’m going to do to you.”

Jena swallowed, gulped actually, as an excited, adventurous,
illicit anticipatory longing started to bubble deep within her.

* * *

“You look tired,” Jena said, walking over to where
Justin stood in the lobby of the urgent care center with his back resting up
against the wall.

It was kind of sweet that she kept checking on him. “Because
someone kept waking me up last night.”

“Which is why tonight you need a good night’s sleep,” she
tried, not for the first time, to get out of going back to his place.

She took him by the hand. “Justin is taking a quick break,
Gayle,” she said then led him down the hall. “Come.”

That was the plan. For both of them. Multiple times.

“I cannot believe you don’t trust me enough to work without you
watching over me like an overprotective parent,” Jena complained. “You should be
home in bed.”

“Which is where I’d be right now if you’d agreed to stay there
with me when I’d asked,” he pointed out.

As she walked she chirped about headaches and blurred vision.
Warning signs. Forgetfulness. Potential for delayed subdural hematoma. Permanent
brain damage and dysfunction. Death.

While he chose to focus on his urge to release the thick curls
restrained in her tight bun and muss them up for a wild, untamed look. But then
they’d cover the smooth kissable, lickable skin at the back of her neck. His
mouth actually watered at the thought. He moved his gaze lower, to the enticing
sway of her hips and glimpses of the rounded perfectness of her butt each time
her long top shifted.

Beyond her enticing physical attributes Justin found he
actually enjoyed spending time with her which was a good thing since they’d
spent so many hours in each other’s presence over the past two days. Like the
better part of his morning and early afternoon in Jena’s bedroom, playing with
the twins and learning to care for them. And while they slept, reviewing her
financial statements, and teaching her to read them and pay her bills.

To date it’d been the longest period of time he’d ever spent in
a room occupied by a bed and a woman without getting naked. And yet he’d still
enjoyed himself, finding Jena a captivating mix of contrasts. Innocent yet sexy.
Caring yet guarded. Insecure yet confident.

“Honestly,” she said, jolting him back to the conversation. “I
promised I wouldn’t leave the building until Ian came to get me.”

Like to protect her was the only reason he’d shown up at work.
No, his motives way more self-serving, Justin had loaded up on acetaminophen so
he could stay close to take advantage of every opportunity to entice her and
remind her where they were headed at the end of her shift. To his bed where he
would prove his attraction to
her
and not Jaci.
Where he would make Jena crave him as much as he craved her. Where he would
drive thoughts of Thomas and Dr. Charmer and a relationship with any other man
right out of her head.

But she needed to get married. To someone. The mere thought of
Jena tending to another man’s wounds while dressed in her clingy pajamas, or
cuddling up to another man in bed, caused his chest to tighten. As did thinking
of binding himself to a woman, of disappointing her, and upsetting her over and
over for five long years.

“I feel fine.” Except for a residual nagging headache.

She pulled him into an empty exam room. “Sit.” She pointed to a
chair.

“Yes, ma’am.” But only because he hoped maybe she’d come in
close to check his stiches so he could—Yes! She walked toward the chair. He
spread his knees in welcome and she moved between them.

Oh yeah.

He inhaled. “You smell so good.” He set his hands at the backs
of her knees, lightly. Testing. When she didn’t react he moved up to the
lusciously firm mounds of her butt. “Feel so good.”

She ignored him. “Your incision line looks fine. Any
headache?”

“No,” he lied. Nothing would interfere with his plans for
tonight.

“Blurred vision?”

He slid his hands up, under her scrub top to bare warm skin.
“Nope.”

She tried to step back.

He held her in place. “You didn’t ask about my lips. They
hurt.” He looked up at her with what he hoped was a convincing sad expression.
“I think a quick kiss would make them feel better.”

She pushed on his shoulders, a half-hearted display if ever
there was one. “Stop it.” Her smile belied her tone of annoyance.

“After you kiss me.” Obviously she needed more of an enticement
so, holding her with one hand at her back, he moved his other hand around front,
to her right breast, her nipple hard beneath his palm. “Breasts are my favorite
part of the female anatomy. And yours are perfection.” The nicest he’d seen,
touched and tasted. No lie. Considering the number of women he’d been with over
the years that was saying something. “I love that you don’t wear a padded bra.”
So he could feel her arousal and revel in her response to his touch.

She let out a breath. “We can’t.”

He noticed she didn’t make any attempt to flee.

Gotcha.

He moved his other hand around so he could caress both of her
lovely breasts at the same time, lavishing attention on the rounded fullness of
her perfect Cs, watching the movement of her scrub top as he maneuvered
underneath it, wishing he could see his hands on her fair skin.

“My goodness you’re making this hard.”

“Well
you’re
making
this
hard.” He reached for her hand and lowered it to
his growing erection.

Major miscalculation.

She jerked her hand away like she’d received an electric shock.
“This is so wrong.” She glanced at the door then at his crotch. “So
unprofessional.” She stepped back. He let her go. “What if Mary came in with a
patient?”

“She wouldn’t open a closed door without knocking first.” But
Jena was right. He’d gone too far. “Later.” He stared up at her. “Promise
me.”

She thought about it. “Okay,” she agreed, backing away from
him. “Tonight.” She turned to leave, mumbling something that sounded like, “One
last time.”

After the door closed Justin leaned back and shut his eyes.
Last time? Silly girl. They were just getting started.

For the rest of their shift Jena didn’t look him in the eye.
But she looked at other parts of him. And the pink blush that erupted on her
cheeks when he caught her staring got him hotter than the most overt sexual
advances. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She hurried off.

Why yes he would like to know, as a matter of fact. What made
one of the richest girls in town focus her telescope on him? Choose him as her
first lover? Trust him to help her with her finances? Look at him with lust in
her eyes and treat him with caring when she could have her pick of men? Better
men, wealthy, cultured men more suited to circulating in her upper class
circles.

A car screeched to a stop outside. Justin went on alert. A man
jumped out of the driver seat, yanked on the rear passenger door, and pulled out
a young child wearing blue pajamas. Justin held open the heavy glass door for
him.

“My son,” the man said, panting, his eyes wild. “He’s having
trouble breathing.”

Justin looked down at the sleeping child cradled in the man’s
arms. Maybe two or three years old, his nose red, his eyes puffy, his lashes
clumped with tears.

“Okay. Not right now,” he said “But a few minutes ago he was
crying and coughing, a strange barky cough that scared the hell out of me. He
couldn’t catch his breath. My wife is away on a business trip. I called the
pediatrician who said it sounded like croup. What the hell is croup? And what
kind of kook doctor diagnoses a child over the telephone?” The man shifted the
boy so his head rested on his shoulder. “Drive to urgent care with the windows
open, he told me.”

“Seems to have worked,” Justin commented, after filling in at
the urgent care center dozens of times, very familiar with croup and this exact
scenario.

Beyond listening, the man continued on as if Justin hadn’t
spoken. “If the coughing stops and Joshua calms down turn around and go back
home, he told me. So the crying and coughing and gasping for breath can start up
again in an hour? I don’t think so. My son needs treatment. Right now. I want
him examined by a doctor,” the man demanded.

“That’s why we’re here,” Justin replied. “Please sign in with
Gayle.” Justin directed the man to the registration desk. “I’ll get a nurse to
come out.” Because he wasn’t a medical professional and would rather Mary or
Jena decide if the little boy needed to be taken right in.

He found Jena in the supply room carrying a pack of disposable
diapers and a case of formula. “Where’re these going?” He took them from her.
“There’s a little boy out front I’d like you to take a look at. Possible croup.
The man with him is pretty upset.”

“Exam room four,” she said without argument. “Then they’re
ready to go.”

An hour later, ten minutes to close, after a visit with a
doctor and lots of instruction and reassurance from Jena, Justin accompanied
Joshua and his dad out to the parking lot.

“Sorry about before,” the man said.

“No need to apologize,” Justin replied.

The man unlocked the car, opened the rear passenger door, and
tucked Joshua into his car seat. When he emerged he asked, “You have kids?”

As of two days ago, “Yeah. Two little girls. Twins.” He noticed
he stood a bit taller, feeling rather proud about it.

“This parenthood gig is one crazy ride.” The man shook his
head.

Justin had no doubt it would be once he secured his spot on the
parental rollercoaster beside Jena.

Who sure took her time cleaning up and restocking for the next
day.

By half past twelve even Mary had had enough. “Come on, Jena,”
she called down the hallway. “I’ve got to get home. Max is waiting up for me.”
She turned to Justin. “With candles burning and lotion warming.”

“Thanks for the visual but that’s more information than I need
to know.”

“Tough. Do you think I want to go home and have sex? My son
wakes up at sunrise. I won’t get home until close to one in the morning. I need
to sleep,” Mary complained. “But I fear I inadvertently strayed into the path of
those horny vibes pulsing back and forth between you and Jena. Heck, even Dr.
Morloni set up a late night rendezvous. Did you see how fast he bolted out of
here?”

Come to think of it, yes he had.

“Sorry. I’m ready,” Jena said, walking toward them while
slipping on her lavender sweater.

“Me, too,” Mary said brightly.

“Me, three,” Justin added, controlled, squelching a,
“Halleluiah let’s go home and get us laid”, restraining the urge to grab Jena by
the hand and make a mad dash to his SUV.

“Have fun, you two,” Mary said with a sly smile and a wink as
she slid into the front seat of her car.

“Oh, no,” Jena said after Mary slammed her door shut. She
grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop and looking up, her expression lost in
the darkness but concern evident in her tone. “Do you think she knows?”

“Knows what?” He played dumb, didn’t want her distracted by
unnecessary embarrassment.

“That we’re going back to your place to... To...”

He found her prim inability to speak the words for what they
were headed to do, amusing. Refreshing. So different from his usual women. “Get
naked? Have sex? Renew our intimate acquaintance? Get it on? Make love?” he
teased.

She smacked his chest. “I’m serious.”

“Me, too.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and
headed to his SUV. “This parking lot at night is not a place to hang around
talking.” No matter how entertaining he found the topic of conversation.

Subject effectively changed, he slid his free hand into his
pants pocket to grip the tactical folding knife he’d placed there before work.
Only a fool with a death wish would try to jump him tonight.

On the walk into the condo complex Jena admitted, “I’m a little
nervous.”

Justin stopped.

“Now that you’re sober,” she said not looking at him. “And you
know I’m not Jaci, what if you find me...lacking? Disappointing? What if you
can’t...?”

BOOK: Secrets of a Shy Socialite
4.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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