Confucius Jane (22 page)

As she watched her parents react to Jane's rambling monologue, Sutton was in danger of breaking into hysterical laughter. Her mother seemed completely taken aback, but her father was looking at Jane with a mixture of scorn and disgust—almost as though she were an insect he wanted to squash.

He cleared his throat. “What on earth are found poems?”

This time, Jane didn't ramble at all. “Found poems are a form of art in which the poet acts as compiler rather than composer. I find lines of poetry everywhere—in signs or graffiti, for example. But mostly in conversations. Then, I assemble all the found lines into a poem.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, sir. And as Sutton mentioned, I've had one poem publi—”

But Reginald cut her off. “Honestly? This is what passes for poetry in twenty-first-century America? Eavesdropping on people and then plagiarizing them?”

Jane went rigid in shock, and Sutton felt her fingers tremble. “I can assure you it's not—”

Reginald leaned forward, and Sutton's gaze was drawn to the visible pulse throbbing in his neck. “Will this conversation be making it into one of your little poems?”

“Of course not,” Jane said through gritted teeth. “That isn't how it—”

“I'm sorry, Jane. I need to interrupt.” Sutton had had quite enough of her father's bullying tactics. “Dad … how dare you? Jane is my guest in our home. She doesn't deserve to be interrogated and insulted. She is a published, award-winning poet, and you can respect her work even if you don't understand it.”

Crimson suffused her father's neck and cheeks, but when he opened his mouth to speak, she forestalled him. This was it—the perfect moment. So far, Jane had taken all the risks. It was time for her to be brave.

“I also need you to respect me and my choices. I've been offered a postdoc by Lund University in Sweden to study stem-cell therapy. It's fully funded for two years, with the option of a third.” She took a deep breath. “And I'm going to take it.”

Her father recoiled as though her words had been a physical blow. “Excuse me?”

“But, Sutton,” her mother chimed in. “What about Columbia? Neal has a place for you there.”

“I don't want to go to Columbia, Mom. Not right now. I want to take this opportunity in Sweden. If I decide I want to do a surgical residency at some point, I can always reapply later.” She extended her free hand across the table, palm up. “Stem-cell therapy might be able to help treat or even cure certain neurological conditions. We just don't know enough yet. I want to find out what it can do. I want to see if it can help you.”

Sutton remained focused on her mother, hoping the appeal would have its desired effect. But for the first time, her polite mask fell away to reveal the frightened, angry woman beneath. Pressing her lips together, Priscilla drew back from Sutton's outstretched hand.

“How dare you discuss this now!”

Her animosity snapped the last strand of Sutton's frayed patience. “What is the matter with you, Mom? So you have MS. You know what? Plenty of other people do, too. Hiding a disease—making it less visible—only makes progress less likely. Stem-cells have such potential. I'm going to Sweden to try to turn that potential into reality for you and everyone else who is suffering.”

“Quiet!” her father barked. “Sutton, this is ridiculous. You're not going. I won't allow it.”

“Oh, really?” Sutton pushed back her chair and stood, refusing to listen to his ultimatums. All her life, he had tried to control her. When her own goals had aligned with his ambitions, she hadn't even noticed his manipulation, but now, it was all too clear. “Just you try and stop me, Dad. I am your daughter. Not your marionette. You can't control me. This is my career and my decision.”

Jane scrambled out of her chair to stand at Sutton's side, and in a final show of defiance, Sutton reached down to lace their fingers together. “Let's go.”

*   *   *

AS SUTTON PULLED HER
toward the front door, Jane rhythmically stroked the soft skin below her knuckles, wishing the touch could convey what she was thinking—that Sutton, in all her strength and intelligence and conviction, was her hero. Reginald's manner had been cold enough to burn, and even Jane's pity for Priscilla didn't outweigh her anger at the way she had lashed out against the daughter who was trying to heal her. Sutton was too good for them. They didn't deserve her.

Maria was waiting in the foyer, Sutton's coat in hand. “Congratulations,” she said softly as she held it open. “I will miss you, but I am glad you are following your heart.”

“Thank you. Dinner was delicious, as always.” Sutton's face softened. “I'm sorry about the drama.”

Maria shook her head. “You have nothing to apologize for. I'm glad you finally stood up to him.” She embraced Sutton lightly, before stepping back and including Jane in her smile. “Good night.”

Once they were outside, Sutton set such a brisk pace that despite Jane's longer legs, she struggled to keep up without breaking into a jog. As they hustled down the sidewalk, she forced herself not to speak. Sutton's main priority at the moment seemed to be putting as much distance between herself and her parents, as quickly as possible. For now, Jane would stick with her in silent solidarity.

A downtown train pulled up to the station within moments of their arrival. As they settled into a pair of seats in the corner, Sutton linked their arms and rested her head on Jane's shoulder. That simple gesture of affection triggered a wave of relief so strong that she shivered. Sutton tightened her grip, but said nothing. Only as they emerged onto Spring Street did she finally speak.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

Jane glanced down at her, but Sutton was looking straight ahead. “I wanted to be there. If I had to do it all over again, I'd still want to be there.”

The tense set of Sutton's jaw relaxed slightly when she finally met Jane's eyes. “You're amazing. Thank you. I'm not sure I could have done it without you.”

“Sure, you could have.” As they paused to wait for a car to pass, Jane rolled her shoulders in an attempt to dislodge the tension that had settled there. “You know, I think someday I'm going to look back on that conversation and laugh.”

“But not today.”

“No, not today.”

All too soon, they drew abreast of the door to Sutton's building. The full emotional impact of the night hadn't yet hit her, and Jane didn't want to let her go. Then again, some space might be exactly what Sutton needed.

“Do you want me to … I mean, you probably want to be alone right now.”

“I really don't.” Her eyes shone, reflecting the halo of the nearby street lamp. “Come upstairs with me.”

Her throat suddenly dry, Jane simply nodded. Sutton didn't mean it like that, of course. She just wanted company. Maybe once they were alone, she would actually open up about what she was feeling. But even as she tried to rationalize Sutton's request, her skin hummed with need. If Sutton gave her the chance, Jane knew she could make her forget all about the evening's unpleasantness. Jane would have given the world to see inside her head at that moment, and she watched her closely as they climbed the stairs. But Sutton betrayed no clues as to her mental state. Did she want comfort? A sounding board? A distraction? If only Jane could tell what she truly needed, she would move heaven and earth to provide it.

After wrestling with the door, Sutton held it open. Jane took a few steps across the hardwood floor and paused, wondering whether she should take off her shoes. The sound of the door closing, followed by the soft snick of the safety chain sliding home, made her turn. Sutton stood with her back to the wooden surface, arms crossed beneath her breasts. The expression on her face remained introspective, even as her gaze moved slowly up Jane's body.

Paralyzed by Sutton's scrutiny, Jane even held her breath. Her gaze was drawn to the triangle of pale skin and hint of cleavage revealed by the cut of her blouse. Jane needed to touch her tongue to that spot so desperately that she took one step forward before she could check the impulse. The last thing she wanted was to make Sutton feel uncomfortable in any way, especially after the emotional abuse she had just endured. Swallowing hard, she tried to rein in her desire. Whatever was about to happen, she had to let it progress at Sutton's pace.

Sutton's hands fell to her sides. “Come here,” she called softly.

In three long strides, Jane was across the room, mere inches separating her from the woman who had somehow managed to so completely bewitch her after only a few short weeks. The urge to touch her was irresistible and she raised one hand to Sutton's face, fingers lightly cupping her jaw as she traced the curve of Sutton's cheekbone with her thumb. When Sutton's eyes half closed and her lips parted slightly, Jane thought her heart might leap clear out of her chest. Her hand trembled as she fought her need to crush their bodies together.

“You're shaking,” Sutton murmured.

Caught by the flecks of blue swirling through her stormy eyes, Jane could only tell the truth. “I want you so much.” Ruefully, she shook her head. “And that's not what you need right now. I should go.”

“Don't.” Sutton trapped her hand against her cheek before she could pull away. “Ever since our first kiss, I haven't been able to stop thinking about your mouth.” She reached up, threading her arms around Jane's neck and finally closing the space between her bodies. Jane's head spun at the sensation and she tentatively rested her hands on Sutton's hips.

“Kiss me again,” Sutton whispered, tugging her down.

With a soft groan, Jane surrendered. Not wanting to break the spell between them, she held her passion in check and brushed her lips ever so lightly against Sutton's. Immediately, Sutton's grip tightened, holding her closer. When Sutton rose up onto her toes, Jane let her hands slide around the curves of Sutton's waist. And then the world spun as Jane found herself with her own back to the door, skin tingling at the assertive force of Sutton's desire. Their other kisses had always kindled a spark, but this—this was an inferno.

Jane lost herself in the warmth and softness of Sutton's mouth against hers. Dizzy with need, she sucked Sutton's bottom lip between her own, then scraped her teeth gently across it. At the sudden sting of Sutton's fingernails digging into the nape of her neck, Jane's control snapped. She pushed her tongue deep into Sutton's mouth and pulled Sutton firmly against her thigh, reveling in the breathy gasp that greeted her actions. But Sutton battled for dominance, sucking hard on Jane's tongue before twining her fingers through Jane's hair and tugging sharply. The small spike of pain fused with the pleasure to send a bolt of white heat slashing down Jane's spine. The ache grew unbearably sharp, and her knees buckled under the sensual onslaught. Gravity restored her conscience, and with a gasp, she broke the kiss.

“Are you sure this is okay?”

Sutton's eyes, dark and intent, held no sign of uncertainty. “It was more than okay, until you stopped.”

Relief made Jane feel even dizzier. “I … I don't think I can do this standing up anymore.”

Sutton trailed her hands along Jane's waist and hooked a finger through one of her belt buckles. She took one step backward, and then another. “Let's lie down, then.”

“I'm not so sure that's a good idea.” The words were out of her mouth before she could take them back, but Sutton never stopped moving.

“I am.” Her smile was bewitching. “It's only kissing. We can stop whenever you want to.”

Jane's arousal increased exponentially with every step. “That's the problem,” she murmured hoarsely. “I'm not going to want to.”

Deftly, Sutton guided Jane down a short hallway and into the first room on the left. Its walls were painted a light blue and were tastefully decorated with several watercolor paintings. A queen-sized bed filled the far corner, its white coverlet looking soft and inviting. She wanted to topple Sutton onto it and watch her golden hair spill across the lace-fringed pillows. Instead, she forced her arms to hang loose at her sides.

After a few more steps, Sutton planted her free hand in the center of Jane's chest. “Stay.”

Jane wanted to make some sort of joke about how she was a Monkey, not a Dog, but the words simply wouldn't come. Her eyes tracked Sutton's every movement as she closed and locked the door, then bent to turn on a space heater. Disbelief warred with her desire. Was this really going to happen? And if so, was Sutton initiating it because it was what she really wanted, or because she wanted to distract herself from thinking about the earlier unpleasantness?

As warm air began to circulate, Sutton returned and tugged at the hem of Jane's shirt. Without speaking, she moved them both across the room, and Jane hurriedly racked her brains for a way to voice her concerns without breaking the moment. When the backs of Sutton's legs touched the bed, she sat and looked up with an expression equal parts desire and longing. Bringing her hands to Jane's hips, she rubbed her thumbs in slow circles. Unable to suppress the whimper that rose from her throat, Jane had to grasp Sutton's shoulder to keep herself upright. Smiling triumphantly, Sutton scooted back on the bed and beckoned.

No longer able or willing to fight her instincts, Jane rested one knee on the mattress before gradually lowering herself to cover Sutton's body with her own. Finally, Jane pressed her lips to that tantalizing spot just above Sutton's breasts that had been tormenting her all night. At Sutton's breathy sigh of encouragement, Jane flicked her tongue against the flushed skin. When Sutton's hips shifted restlessly, Jane kissed her again, and then again. Slowly, she moved up along her collarbone to her jawline, peppering kisses across it until she reached Sutton's earlobe. Closing her lips around it, she sucked gently.