Promises (15 page)

It would have been wonderful if the circumstances had been different.  Much different.

Before she could demand he release her, Jason asked quietly, “Do you really think I was repulsed by our kiss?”

Red bloomed in her cheeks, but she angled her chin up gamely.  “It was pretty obvious.”

“How could you possibly think I was repulsed?”  Jason looked genuinely puzzled.

He wanted to pretend he didn’t know?  Not going to happen.  “I think the fact that when I leaned in for more you pushed me away was pretty much a giveaway.”

Something flickered in his eyes.  “You leaned in for more?”

Shit, had she really confessed that?  Well, hell, guess so.  Nothing to be ashamed of, she reminded herself. “You kissed me first, what was I supposed to do?”

“But you looked so shocked.”

“It’s not every day a handsome man kisses me and then throws me away because apparently I’m too disgusting for him.”  Spotting the damned cat trotting happily down the staircase with a rolled up sock in his mouth, Izzy stepped sideways and dodged past Jason.

Or tried to.  Kind of hard to do when he released her hand but replaced it with a long arm that shot out to come down across the front her shoulder, press between her breasts and drape across her upper abdomen, a big hand curving around her hip pulling her to a halt.

Partly it was her shock of the somehow intimate move that also halted her.  Placing her hand on his forearm, she turned her head to gape up at him.  Lord, he was so close, his body angled so that her side was pressed against him, every hard swell of his muscled abdomen and chest searing her through his t-shirt.  Now she could see the dampness of his tousled brown hair, smell the scent of shampoo and soap.  God, he smelled so good, felt so good.

Shame he was such a jerk.  Shame that even though she was so hurt, his nearness still had the power to make her heart beat fast.

He regarded her steadily.  “Izzy, you didn’t repulse me.”

“Right.”  Every breath she took made her acutely aware of the strong arm lying between her breasts.

“I kissed you because…”  He hesitated.

She looked away, her cheeks burning.

“I didn’t plan it,” he confessed.

“Just thought you’d give it a go, hey?” she said bitterly.

“No.  Damn it, Iz.”

She peeked up to find his eyes closed, the same muscle jumping in his jaw.  Then he took a deep breath she felt right down to her bones and opened those hazel eyes to look down unflinchingly into hers.

“I’m just going to say this.  Iz, I reached into your pocket to get the photo and I was struck by your eyes.  By your face.  By your lips.  You’re so pretty, you smell so sweet, your lips are so soft.  One minute I’m trying to get the truth from you, trying to give you protection, and the next thing I’m wanting you so bad.”

Wait
.  Izzy blinked. 
What?

Voice deep, ringing with conviction, Jason continued earnestly, “I didn’t think, I just acted.  I grabbed you and I kissed you, and I swear, Izzy, it was the best damned kiss I’ve ever had.”

“It was - you what…Me?”  Unsure she was actually hearing correctly, her eyes widening in bafflement, Izzy could only stare up at him.

Stare as his head lowered, as his hand on her hip exerted enough pressure to turn her to face him, as his eyes darkened, something a little wolfish sliding through them, those firm lips parting slightly as his gaze slid from her eyes to her mouth and back again, so slowly, so…hotly.

Oh man, there was no mistaking that look in his eyes, the glint of need, the glow of desire.  For her.

“Jason…”  Nervously, heart rate kicking up several notches, she licked her lips.

“I’m going to kiss you, Iz.”  His tone was deeper, huskier, a little rough.  “This is your only warning.”

She probably should have run.  Pulled back.  But God help her, there was just something about him, about the way he leaned down over her, his shoulders blocking out everything but him.  The big hand was still on her hip, curling almost possessively around the generous shape, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek, the curve between thumb and forefinger cupping her chin, his thumb exerting enough pressure to gently but undeniably tilt her head back, those long fingers resting against her cheek and temple, brushing against her hair.

His face lowered, the heat in his eyes sparked with anticipation clear to see before those thick lashes dropped, his nose rubbed hers gently right before he tilted her head to the side, angling her where he wanted.  Then he stilled, his lips so close to hers that every breath he drew puffed gently against her lips, so warm, so toe-curlingly intimate as it collided with her breath, mingled, and they inhaled each other.

Their lips so close that anyone would have been hard-pressed to slide a match between them.

Then he kissed her.  Simply pressed his lips to hers in a gentle meeting of skin on skin, a light pressure, drawing back enough to almost separate them but not quite, and then Jason pressed down firmer.

Unable to help herself, Izzy rose up on tip toe to meet his mouth, wanting more of that decadently delicious touch, her fingers curling into the material of the t-shirt covering his chest, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along her lips in a gentle yet unmistakable order to open to him.

She obeyed, moaning into his mouth as he slid deep, feeling the slick penetration to her core.  His hand lifted from her cheek, fingers trailing down and around to cup the back of her head in his palm as his kiss grew a bit more demanding.  The heat of his other palm slid across her hip to settle in the small of her back, fingers spreading out to press her closer, so much closer, bringing her hard up against him, his very stance arching her back so that she had to cling to him.

Heat spiralled through her as she kissed him back, desire plucking deep inside, his clean masculine scent playing havoc with her already overloaded senses.  Reaching up, she twined her arms around his neck, the sensation of all that lean strength against her, above her, surrounding her making her blood sizzle and her core heat.

The kiss grew shallower, the moulding of his mouth on hers lighter as he drew back.  They were both breathing a lot heavier when he finally lifted his head.

A little alarm shrieked in the back of her mind as she raised her eyelashes to look up at him, part of her so afraid he’d reject her, while part of her wanted to yank him back down for more of those hot, sweet kisses.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered huskily.

“I’m not,” she replied breathlessly.

“Really? So why is your heart pounding against my chest like a bird about to take flight?”

She swallowed.  “Maybe for the same reason yours is?”

His grin was unexpected, a flash of humour striking through the desire in his eyes.  “I know why my heart is pounding, and it’s got nothing to do with fear.”

They were still so close, his words puffing against her mouth.  All she could do was continue to take in deep breaths and just lose herself in those hot eyes.

She felt like she could have stayed that way forever, dreamy, his scent filling her lungs, but she suddenly became aware that slowly Jason was straightening, his hand sliding away from the back of her head as he took her with him.

Now fear did spike through her, the dread that this was it, a kiss and a gentle let-down.  Was this it?  Had she imagined it?  Had she-

“Izzy, I need to talk to you.” His voice was still husky.

Dreading what she’d hear, Izzy was still so acutely conscious that his arm remained around her, his hand in the small of her back.

Correctly interpreting her expression, Jason shook his head.  “Not what you think, Iz.”

“Okay.”  What was he thinking?  His eyes still held desire, didn’t they?

She could feel herself go just a little cold when he moved back from her, his hand sliding from her waist.  Oh no, if she’d just kissed him back, lost herself in him only to have him let her down gently, she’d die.  Just die.  In more ways than one.  The mortification would be too much.  Seeing him every day would hurt too much.  She’d have to take her misbehaving cat and move.

“Iz.”

At the gently chiding tone, she forced herself to refocus.

“Not what you think.”  Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her brow, nuzzled her temple, the simple action relaxing her a little.  “I need to explain what happened.”

Her nerves tightened.  “This needs explaining?”

“No.  This was desire, plain and simple.  I wanted to kiss you.”  As if to prove a point, he pressed his lips again to her brow.  “I enjoy kissing you.”

Okay, that didn’t sound too bad.

Didn’t sound too bad?  Who was she kidding?  It sounded just great.  But…  “Then explain what?”

“Why I freaked out the other night.”  He drew back, grimaced.  “It’s not easy for me to spill my guts like this, but I want to.  No,” he corrected himself, shaking his head.  “No, I don’t
want
to, I
have
to.”

“You freaked out?”  Still puzzled, she frowned.

“It wasn’t my proudest moment,” he replied wryly.

“You freaked out over kissing me?”

“Not because of you.  Because of me.”

Izzy rubbed her brow.  “You’ve lost me, Jason.”

With a sigh, he took her hand, closing his fingers around her smaller ones and squeezing gently.  “I think this’ll be easier if we do it in comfort.”  Then he laughed a little.  “Actually, nothing will make this easier.  I just think it’d be nicer of we did it somewhere other than just standing in the hallway.”  With that, he changed direction and headed into the lounge.

Hand in his, Izzy followed, feeling as though she was dreaming.  This handsome, self-assured man had actually freaked out about kissing her because of himself?  What could he possibly mean?

Leading her to one of the armchairs, Jason steered her down by the simple process of lifting her hand, bringing her in front of him and then lowering her hand.  Instinctively, she sat on the armchair.

“Coffee?” he asked as soon as she was seated.  “Tea?  Milo?  Cold drink?”

What?  “Um…Milo.  Please.”

“Milk?  Sugar?”

“Milk and one sugar.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She watched him leave through the big doorway before turning to look at the coffee table right before her.

Wow, this was actually happening to her.  She was sitting in his lounge with, if she wasn’t mistaken, Il Divo playing in the background.  Strange choice of music, she’d somehow thought he’d be into heavy rock, but there you had it.  And here she was, after all the hurt, the bruised confidence, Jason Dawson had actually kissed her again, denied he’d been repulsed - well, hell, he’d certainly proven that with that toe-curling, panty-wetting kiss out in the foyer - and now he said it wasn’t her who had the problem, it was him.

She froze.  It wasn’t her, it was him?  Wasn’t that some old cliché she read in books and saw in movies?  Oh Lord, was he trying to kindly ease her away?  Like she had to be weaned like a lovesick calf?  Crap on a stick!

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she gave herself a mental head slap.  This was no movie, no book, this was real life.  And after she’d practically sucked the tongue right out of his head, he had a right to expect her to listen.

But what would it mean for her?  For them?  Was there a ‘them’?  Surely a man didn’t kiss a woman like that if he didn’t intend…something?  So what were his intentions?  What did she want?

Fisting her hands, she banged her knuckles softly together while nibbling her well-kissed bottom lip.  There was no doubting her attraction to him, especially since he’d kissed her the first time.  No doubting she wanted more.  Cripes, she’d only met him recently but it wasn’t as though it had happened in the usual fashion.  Nothing normal about being sprung first on her neighbour’s balcony, then contemplating breaking into his house, not to mention her cat happily doing B and Es every time he took it into his bat-eared head.

Speaking of which, she spotted the culprit brightly bouncing into the room like he owned the place.  He meowed happily at her before jumping up onto the back of the sofa and looking around.  His gaze fell on the pile of clean clothes folded on the cushions and he made to jump down onto it.

“Stop!”

Startled, he looked at Izzy out of big eyes.

“This is not your house, Arnie,” she hissed.  “Behave yourself.”

Like that would help.  She bit her lip as he looked at her while placing out one paw and literally sliding down the sofa to fall onto the pile of folded clothes and lie sprawled out just as he’d landed.  Then, to add insult to injury, he proceeded to clean his paw, toes spreading out as he busily nibbled and licked the soft pads.

About to go and pick him up, Izzy just started to push upwards when Jason’s voice slid through her like warm honey.  “Hope this isn’t too hot.  I’d just boiled the kettle when you arrived so it should still be hot enough.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she replied, flustered, as Jason bent down to hand her the mug of Milo.