Giving In: Surrender Trilogy (12 page)

Kylie’s heart filled with love for her friend. She missed Joss and couldn’t wait for her to return, even though it was selfish since Joss was on her honeymoon and should enjoy every minute of it. But Kylie loved Chessy and Joss. They were solid. Her anchor after Carson died. The only two people who’d kept her sane and had given her a reason to keep living.

They didn’t know that. Maybe they’d never know how much Kylie depended on them. But she couldn’t fathom her life without them.

“I’m going to try,” Kylie said truthfully. “I’m tired of being a coward. Of hiding from the world. Maybe Jensen is the one. Maybe he’s not. But at the very least he’s my opportunity to work on my courage.”

“That’s my girl,” Chessy said. “And you know I’m going to want to hear all the juicy details Sunday. If you don’t call me, I’m so coming over. But in the afternoon. You know, in case Jensen sleeps over again.”

She winked as she said the last and Kylie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Kylie said dryly. “Remember the fact that I had to handcuff him to the bed in order for him to be able to sleep in the same space. I’m such a head case that I wouldn’t count on me having sex with anyone for a long time.”

Chessy’s eyes sparkled. “At the risk of sounding disloyal, my money’s on Jensen. I bet you two do the deed much sooner than you think.”

“Gee, thanks,” Kylie muttered.

But at the same time, hope unfurled in her heart like a flower budding in the spring. Could she be intimate with Jensen? Was it possible that he was the man who could get past her barriers? The fact that she wasn’t melting down over the mere thought said a whole lot. The fact that she was actually anticipating the act itself said far more.

KYLIE
wiped her hands down her jeans, removing the dampness from her palms. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, critically surveying her appearance. This was stupid. Utterly ridiculous for her to be so worked up over a date.

Women dated. People dated. And now, apparently,
she
dated. It was an absolutely ordinary occurrence in the world. Except that her world and the rest of the world were two entirely different things. In her world, she didn’t date. Didn’t pursue relationships or encourage men’s attention.

Only now it would seem she did indeed date and she was in fact trying to gain the attention of Jensen.

She couldn’t figure out if it annoyed her or pleased her, this tilting of her universe. On one hand she was actually looking forward to the evening with Jensen. Craved his company and how safe and comforted she felt around him. Was she simply using him because he was a security blanket of sorts? And would she chicken out the minute things became more intimate?

Because she sincerely doubted Jensen was just signing up to be a source of comfort. He was a man. An attractive, mouthwateringly gorgeous man. Of course he’d expect sex at some point. He’d pretty much said as much. The question was how patient he’d be.

She wasn’t opposed, in theory, to the idea of having sex with him. The
idea
appealed. But what appealed more to her was her being
capable
of having a physical relationship with him. Of being able to overcome the panic that such an idea instilled within her.

So, in fact, it did mean that she was using him. For all the wrong reasons.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to stop being so analytical. Did it matter
why
she wanted to be around him? Did it matter the reasons why if they ended up having sex? To most men reasons would be very far down their list. They wanted sex. Most red-blooded men did. It was the women who got all touchy-feely and analytical over the reasons behind sex.

Jensen wanted her. He’d made that clear enough. But
what
exactly did he want? How much? Would he be satisfied with physical release? Hot sex? Or did he want more? Something she couldn’t give him?

Her head was spinning and she was making herself crazy over a simple date. She’d changed clothes four times, each time deeming herself too obvious. Too blatant, like she was seeking his approval. But what normal woman wouldn’t want to look good for her date? Especially a man like Jensen who oozed sensuality just by breathing.

She’d finally opted for jeans and a comfortable top. Casual. Not too desperate. She wanted to appear as though she were comfortable with him. And that wouldn’t be a stretch because she did feel at ease with him even if she hadn’t in the beginning. All of that had changed during the night he’d spent with her.

Trust, something she didn’t readily give to anyone, had been formed the night he’d held her through her nightmares and offered her comfort. A part of her recognized that this man wouldn’t hurt her. Her mind protested, used to self-preservation. Her heart, on the other hand, had quickly offered its trust, leaving her brain to wonder if she’d lost what little of her sanity she had left.

The doorbell rang, spurring her into action. She nervously gave herself one last glance in the mirror, satisfied that she looked . . . normal. Then she went to answer the door.

Jensen filled her doorway the minute she opened the door. He loomed there, larger than life. Tall, muscular. Strong. To her relief, he too had dressed casually. Faded jeans that conformed to his body and made her want to get an eyeful of how his ass filled them out. And a simple T-shirt that stretched over his muscled arms and chest.

If she thought he looked sexy in his business clothing, seeing him in jeans and a T-shirt was mind-blowing. God, was she actually
lusting
after him? She hadn’t thought herself capable of feeling physical attraction to a man—any man. And yet here she stood, drinking her fill and having decidedly naughty thoughts.

Who knew she had it in her?

Instead of inspiring panic, she was filled with the unfamiliar sensation of . . . optimism. She offered him a genuine smile and then gestured for him to come inside. He was carrying two grocery bags and had a bottle of wine tucked under one arm.

“Let me help you,” she offered.

“Nope,” he said. “I’ll dump it all in the kitchen and get started. I’d love for you to join me and keep me company, though.”

She followed behind and slid onto one of the barstools as he unloaded the items from the grocery bags.

“What’s on the menu?” she asked lightly.

“Aussie chicken,” he said. “Ever heard of it?”

She shook her head.

“Then you’re in for a treat. It’s basically baked chicken breasts in a homemade honey mustard sauce with bacon, mushrooms and cheese. Can’t go wrong with that combination.”

She took in his warm smile, soaked it up like an addict in need of a fix. He just had a settling effect on her. She worried she’d become too dependent, that she’d need him too much. She’d never considered herself a clingy person. Just the opposite. She avoided relationships, any bonds with people other than her immediate circle of friends. But she could well see how dependent she could become on Jensen and that scared her. She didn’t want anyone but herself to have any control over her happiness.

But was she truly happy?

Even she knew the answer to that one. She wasn’t unhappy but neither was she happy. She just . . . existed. Went through the motions. Lived day-to-day on autopilot. Wasn’t it time for her to wake up and live?
Really
live?

“It sounds delicious,” she said, huskiness lacing her voice.

He smiled again and she caught her breath. Good God. She was sitting here
lusting
over him. Her! She breathed in, savoring the newness of such overwhelming emotions. Feelings she’d kept under tight rein her entire life. What was happening to her? Had she merely been waiting for him? Was he the one who’d break through her barriers and make her get over her fears?

“How did your dinner with Chessy go?” he asked as he set to work preparing the dish.

He poured two glasses of wine and slid one across the counter to her. She picked it up and brought it to her lips, inhaling the aroma. She rarely drank and usually only with friends. Alcohol made her uneasy because she was intimately acquainted with the dark side of it. Being around people drinking heavily was something she always avoided.

“It went well,” she said, after sipping the drink. “She’s lonely. Tate’s so busy with his job.”

Jensen glanced up, his expression seeking. “She unhappy?”

Kylie grimaced. She shouldn’t have said anything. She felt like the worst sort of friend betraying Chessy’s confidence. But there was something about Jensen that caught her off guard and made her relax. Her lips loosened around him and she found herself telling him things she’d never share with anyone else.

“I’m not going to betray your confidence, Kylie,” Jensen said in a low voice. “We’re just having a conversation. Nothing more. You don’t have to worry about me involving myself in someone else’s relationship. Besides, Tate and I are mere acquaintances, brought together by circumstance more than friendship. I like him and Chessy both. I’d hate to know she was unhappy.”

“It’s me who’s betraying a confidence,” Kylie muttered. “For some reason I find myself blurting stuff out to you.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he observed, staring thoughtfully at her. If there had been any hint of triumph in his eyes, it would have annoyed her, but there was just intent consideration.

“I’d like you to feel as though you can talk to me about anything,” he continued.

Kylie sighed. “Tate’s just super busy and Chessy is lonely. I understand that feeling but unlike me, she isn’t used to it. She’s outgoing and bubbly. She needs to be surrounded by people and she needs more of Tate’s time than she’s currently getting.”

“Does he know how she feels?” Jensen asked. “Just from observing them the few times I’ve been around them, I’d say the man worships the ground she walks on. Most men, upon learning their woman was the least bit unhappy, would move heaven and earth to correct the problem. But if he doesn’t know . . .”

“He doesn’t,” Kylie supplied. “Or at least she hasn’t confronted him. It’s a difficult position she’s in because she feels that if she were to tell Tate she’s unhappy, he would feel as though he failed her. There was a time we talked about her fear that he was cheating. But she wouldn’t confront him because she knew if she ever expressed that kind of doubt in him that it would be a rift that wouldn’t be easily mended. She didn’t want to give him any hint that she didn’t have faith in him. I just want her to be happy. I hate seeing her so sad. It makes me want to smack Tate upside the head and ask him if he even sees what he’s doing to his wife.”

Jensen grimaced. “That doesn’t sound like a fun place for her to be. Worried but unable to voice her fears. I prefer open communication myself. I’d hate for my woman to ever fear speaking to me about anything.”

There was an undertone to his statement that was aimed at her. She knew it. He wasn’t talking about Chessy and Tate. He was talking about him and her. He was telling her not to fear ever talking to him about anything.

“For some reason I don’t seem to suffer that affliction around you,” she said in bewilderment. “In fact I’d say it’s just the opposite. I can’t seem to quit just blurting stuff out. I’m not usually such a blabbermouth.”

“Then I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, his expression sincere. “I like the idea that you’re comfortable enough around me to speak your mind. I hope that it’s the beginnings of trust between us.”

“I do trust you,” she whispered. “I have no idea why. God knows I don’t trust
anyone
. But for some reason I feel safe with you and that kind of freaks me out.”

He stopped what he was doing and walked around the counter to where she sat. He spun the stool until she faced him and he framed her face in his hands. His eyes glittered with intensity as he stared down at her. She thought he was going to kiss her and he did, just not where she expected.

He pressed his lips tenderly to her forehead and she closed her eyes in pleasure over the simple gesture.

“You
are
safe with me, Kylie,” he said as he drew back, his hands still framing her face.

He stroked his thumb over her lips, lips she thought he would kiss.

“If you believe nothing else, you can believe that. You are absolutely safe with me and I don’t just mean physically. You are safe in all ways because I will absolutely protect you from anything that could hurt you.”

“Why me?” she blurted. “I don’t get it. I’m not fishing for compliments, Jensen. It’s a sincere question. You can’t have to look far for female companionship. You could likely have any woman you wanted. So why are you interested in me? Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

His smile was so tender that it made her heart leap and speed up.

“I know exactly what I’m getting myself into,” he murmured. “As for why you? I can’t answer that. Some things just are. And for me that’s you. I see beyond the image you present to the world to the woman underneath and that’s who I want.”

“We’re too different,” she said in a fretful tone. “And you’re a control freak and I’m a control freak. It’s not like I have some OCD thing, but I like things a certain way. I
need
them a certain way. Two control freaks in a relationship? Surely that’s a recipe for disaster.”

He continued to smile at her, his eyes warm. He didn’t seem at all put off by her fretting.

“I understand you far more than you realize,” he said softly. “I’m no threat to you, Kylie. For the right woman, I have no issue with relinquishing control. What I’m after has nothing to do with physical submission.”

His words puzzled her. He was speaking as though he were dominant. Like Dash and Tate. And he probably was. Which made his interest in her all the more mystifying.

“Are you dominant?” she whispered. “You never really answered me before when I asked if you were like Tate and Dash. I know you said you were you and not them. But that wasn’t what I meant. Do you like submissive women? Do you like to dominate them?”

“I prefer submissive women, yes,” he said calmly. “Until you I would have said that it was the only kind of relationship I would entertain.”