Breakaway (4 page)

“Yup.” He reached out and touched her hair. “What about you?
Have you always lived here?”

“My whole life. The house I live in is the house I grew up
in. When my parents died, we inherited it, and it was lucky because it was paid
for. We didn’t have much money, but at least we had a roof over our heads.”

“That must have been hard for you. You were what…twenty-two,
you said?”

“Yes. I’d just finished college, was just starting my first
job.”

“And you had to look after your little brother and sister.”

“Mmm.” She hitched a shoulder. “I did what I had to do.”

His eyes grew a bit distant. “I couldn’t have done that when
I was twenty-two. Hell, I couldn’t do that now.”

She laughed. “Well, hopefully you won’t have to. Are your
parents still living?”

“Oh, yeah. Alive and well.”

“In Canada?”

“Mmhmm.” He focused back on her, his gaze warm and intent.
She quivered inside.

“And do you have brothers and sisters?”

“Three brothers.”

“Whoa! Four boys! Your poor mother!”

He grinned. “She’s a tough lady.”

“Are you the oldest?”

“No. My brother Tag is older. Matt and Logan are both younger.”

“That’s cool. Must have been a busy house with four boys.”
She eyed him. “Are they all as big as you?”

“Bigger.” He grinned.

“That’s not possible.”

“Well, Matt is about the same size as me. I might have a few
pounds on him yet.”

She was intensely curious about the woman who’d given birth
to four boys as big as Jason and how she’d reared them, but that was way more
personal than they needed to get, so she shut off that train of thought.

The taxi pulled up in front of her two-story Victorian style
house, and Jason reached for his wallet to pay. Remi started to protest, but he
waved a hand and gave the driver some bills, including enough for a generous
tip.

She led the way in her front door, flicked on a light and
looked around at her home, wondering how it looked to Jason. She lived a simple
life. Although Jasmine had been working at a full-time job for several months
now, there wasn’t a lot of money left for luxuries from Remi’s teacher’s
salary. But Jason bought drinks and handed out money easily, wore clothes that
were clearly expensive and the watch she’d noticed on his wrist was a stainless
steel Baume & Mercier. She didn’t know what he did, but he obviously had
money.

“This is nice,” he said, surveying the living room. The
house was old, but Remi loved it, loved the character in the big baseboards,
the mullioned windows, the original brick fireplace and hardwood floors. “It
reminds me of my parents’ home in Winnipeg.”

“Winnipeg? That’s where you’re from?”

“Yeah.” He slid his coat off and she stepped toward him to
take it and hang it up. Nerves tightened and twisted inside her. She’d never
done this—never brought a man home like this. She and Darryl had dated for
months before they’d had sex and then it had to be quick and planned so as to
avoid Kyle and Jasmine. What were the rules? Were there rules? Should she offer
him a drink?

“Would you like a drink?” she inquired after hanging his
coat in the closet. She stroked a hand down the sleeve of the exquisitely soft,
black wool fabric before closing the closet door.

“Your coat?”

“Hmm?” She stared at him.

“Are you going to take your coat off?”

She looked down at herself. “Oh!” Her cheeks heated and she
gave a lopsided smile. “Yes, of course.” She quickly removed the pretty new
coat that she shouldn’t have spent so much money on and hung it in the closet
next to his.

“C’mere.” He held out a hand and she hesitated, then walked
toward him and took it. “You’re nervous.”

“No, I’m not.”

He laughed softly and pulled her closer, his hands on her
hips. She trembled.

“It’s okay. Let’s have a drink, sit down and talk some more.”

“Okay. I have beer or wine…or champagne.”

“Champagne?” He lifted a brow. She moved away from his touch
toward the kitchen.

“Delise brought it over earlier. To celebrate.” She shook
her head, smiling.

“Well, we should finish it,” Jason said, following her. “That
stuff doesn’t keep.”

“Okay.” She found two clean champagne flutes and poured the
bubbly wine into them.

He touched the edge of his glass to hers before lifting it
to his lips. “To Remi. All on her own now. Ready to have fun.”

She inhaled. Exhaled. Sipped her fizzy wine. Jason took her
hand and led her back to the living room. They sat down on the slip-covered
couch.

“Tell me about Winnipeg.”

He grinned. “Do you even know where it is?”

She nibbled her bottom lip. “Canada.”

His laughter warmed her insides. “Very good. Actually it’s
not that far from here. Just north of North Dakota. It’s a nice city. Not as
big as Chicago, of course. Bet you didn’t know it was once called the ‘Chicago
of the north.’”

“I didn’t know that.” She watched him talk, sipped her wine.

“Back at the turn of the century, Winnipeg was growing fast.
There were a lot of skyscrapers built—well, at the time they were considered
skyscrapers. The architects who designed them were trained in the Chicago
School style. Those buildings are still there, in the Exchange District. In
fact, a lot of movies are filmed there because the buildings and streets still
look just like they did back then. It’s a neat area.”

“Really? That’s cool.”

“Yeah. Winnipeg has stood in for Chicago in a few movies.”

“Like what?”

“Um…
Shall We Dance
, with Richard Gere and Susan
Sarandon.”

“Get out! Really?”

“I kid you not.”

She wanted to know why he’d left, why he was here in
Chicago, but didn’t want to ask.

“Do you miss your family?”

“Yeah. I see my brothers once in a while.” He gave her a
funny grin. “And my parents visit sometimes, when they can.” He paused. “You
must miss your parents.”

“Well, I do. But to be honest, they weren’t around that
much, even when they were alive. They were both doctors and they did a lot of
work in Africa.”

His brows rose. “Wow. Africa.”

“Yeah. It was very noble of them. They felt a…a ‘calling’, I
suppose. But they’d be gone for months at a time.”

“Let me guess. Leaving big sister Remi in charge.”

“Yeah.” Her mouth twisted into a crooked smile. “And then
they were killed in a small plane crash in Somalia.”

“Ah. That’s crappy.”

She nodded. “Yeah. But we did okay.”

“I see that.” He stroked a strand of hair back off her face,
sending heat sliding down from his touch.

“Let’s talk abut happier things.”

“How about….let’s not talk.”

Chapter Three

Their mouths met and clung in a long, slow kiss. When they
drew apart, their eyes met. Jason’s breath stuck in his chest, his heart
thudding painfully. His eyelids felt heavy and then, like two magnets, he and
Remi fell on each other, their mouths meeting again, this time hard, hot and
hungry.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and practically crawled
onto his lap, tongues sliding, teeth nipping. She tasted delicious, sweet and
sparkly like champagne, with a hint of mint from the mojitos. His hands grabbed
her hips and pulled her closer and then she
was
on his lap, sideways on
the couch. He shifted his body, gently lowered her to the couch and moved over
her. He kissed her again and again until they both had to break for air,
panting.

She licked her lips, staring at him wide-eyed. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Wow.”

And they went at it again, deep, seeking, open-mouthed
kisses. His hands stroked her everywhere he could reach, over her hips, her
waist, up the sides of her rib cage, thumbs resting just beneath her breasts,
then down to thighs bared by her skirt, which had ridden up indecently high.
Her skin was satiny warm and her body jerked when he found the sensitive skin
at the back of her knee.

He was acutely aware of how tiny she was compared to him,
worried that he might hurt her, so he took care and didn’t let his weight rest
on her as he leaned over her to kiss her. She squirmed beneath him, arching
into him, and he lifted away from her.

“What?” she gasped.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She blinked at him. “Of course I’m okay. Why are you
stopping?”

Instead of answering, he just kissed her again, starving for
more of the taste and feel of her in his mouth. Their tongues played, her hands
wandered up and down his back, then slipped under his suit jacket. Through the
thin cotton of his shirt he felt her warmth and he wanted nothing between her
touch and his skin.

He sat up again and tore his suit jacket off. Goddamn suits
and ties, he’d never understand why they had to wear these things on game days,
but apparently they had to look professional. He fumbled at his throat with the
knot of the tie, like a noose around his neck, and when he’d loosened it, he
popped open the first two buttons of his shirt. Ah. So much better.

He took a deep breath and leaned back down to Remi, kissing her
again. Now her little hands tugged at his shirt and found their way beneath it
to his skin. He wanted to groan at the pleasure of it.

He was so hard and full he ached with it, longing to press
himself against her softness, but he held himself back, again conscious of her
size, and his size, and the difference in their size. They kissed on and on,
hands roving, bodies writhing, skin heating.

He had to feel more of her and he rose up to slide the tiny
straps of her top down her arms, dying to see the curves of her breasts. She
helped him by hitching her shoulders and then he peeled the sparkly top down to
her waist, revealing the—thank you, Jesus—black lace strapless bra. He blinked
at it, at the delicate curves between the lacy cups, and his mouth watered. “So
pretty,” he murmured. “I love black lace.”

“That’s good.”

He tipped his head. “Do your panties match?”

She huffed out a soft laugh. “Find out for yourself.”

“Mmm. Okay.”

And the top and the skirt came off too, both down over her
hips and legs, leaving her lying on the couch in her lingerie, and yes, her
panties were black lace too, a tiny triangle held on by a slender black ribbon
over each hip. Her skin was incredible—creamy smooth everywhere, her body
dainty and perfect.

He had to just stop and stare, breathing hard.

“Jason?” She put a hand out to him and he lifted his gaze to
her face. Uncertainty shadowed her eyes, her mouth soft and pouty.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he muttered. “I have to look
at you.”

Her eyes widened, then drifted closed and the corners of her
mouth tipped up. “Thank you. I’m not…”

He lightly rested his fingers on her mouth. “Don’t even say
it.” He didn’t know how, but he knew what she was about to say and he didn’t
want to hear any comparisons between her and anyone else, because there was no
comparison. Jason himself was a little taken aback at how stunningly beautiful
he found her. His heart stuttered in his chest. Jesus.

He swallowed, then explored her curves with his hands,
taking them on a joyful tour of smooth thighs, the dip of her waist, the swell
of her breasts. He longed to see her nipples, to taste them too, but he wanted
to keep the black lace on as long as possible.

He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the softness of her
tummy and it quivered beneath his mouth. His tongue gave a gentle lap, his lips
a tiny suck, and he breathed in the fresh, flowery scent of her skin before he
lifted his head. She groaned and slid her hands into his hair.

He pressed a trail of kisses down over her lower belly,
noting the tiny fine golden hairs just above the black lace, wanting to see
what was beneath it, digging deep for patience. He pressed his mouth over the
black lace and inhaled again, her scent now warmer and layered with feminine
arousal. It made him so goddamn hard he groaned. Her hips lifted beneath him
and when he raised his head and looked down at his big hands holding her small
hips, he shook. It was like holding a doll, tiny and perfect, but terrifying.

“Uh…” He reared back again.

“What?
Now
what?”

He shook his head, his brains fuddled a bit. Maybe they
shouldn’t be doing this.

He shoved a hand into his hair and sat up straight. Remi
struggled up onto her elbows, a frown pinching her brows together. “What’s
wrong?”

His gut clenched, his dick throbbed, his balls pulsed. Hell.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

She gazed at him. “We agreed. We’re just having fun. No
strings attached. Right?”

“I don’t mean like that. I mean…physically. You’re so
little.”

His heart thudded and he heard it in his ears as he waited.
And waited.

She sat up, all pretty ivory curves and black lace and
golden hair. He gulped.

Then his heart stopped. Literally stopped, as she climbed
onto his lap, straddled him and went to work on his tie. She yanked it off over
his head, fingered open the buttons of his shirt, one, then another, then
another, until she spread it wide across his chest.

She sucked in a breath as she did so, eyes glued to his pecs,
and he sat there, arms at his side while she palmed his chest. Christ, it felt
good.

He lifted his arms and flicked open the button at each wrist
so he could shrug out of the shirt, but his mind was spinning at the touch of
her fingers sliding down lower over his abs, then to the fastener of his pants.

“Remi…”

She lifted her head. “Don’t tell me to stop.”

“But…”

Then his heart lurched again and resumed its racing rhythm
as she covered his erection with her hand and pressed. His cock twitched hard. “Ah!”

“You don’t want me to stop,” she murmured, getting to work
on the zipper. “I can tell.”