Sweet Surrender (11 page)

“I don’t know. A girl could get used to it and then have it snatched away in the blink of an eye.”

The devastated look on Stacy’s face made Jessie regret her words.

“Your daddy sure did a number on you, didn’t he, honey?”

Jessie simply shrugged. It was true. Her lessons had been exceptionally tough ones to learn. She was an independent woman now, though, with a plan for financial freedom where no matter what a man did to her, she wouldn’t end up scrimping, slaving, or giving up her dreams like her mother. She didn’t need a man to take care of her, no matter how darn sexy that man was.

“Let’s change the subject, okay?”

“Okay, so… have you slept with him yet?”

“Stacy!”

“What? This is girl talk. You don’t have to give me all the details, only the highlights.”

“Highlights, huh?” Jessie smiled, effortlessly recalling every second of their dreamy first night. “How much time do you have?” she asked cheekily. “It was all a highlight, so the retelling could take a while.”

“From the look on your face, I can tell it was worth the wait,” Stacy replied with a grin. “Go on.”

“It was wonderful, beautifully romantic, and better than I dreamed it would be. Although up until a week ago, I wouldn’t have had any highlights at all, other than kissing and heavy groping. It took him over a month to make his move.”

“Really? With his reputation, I thought that ship would have sailed long ago.” Stacy’s hands flew to her mouth. “Sorry, Jess. That was crude of me and way out of line.”

“No. I know his history as a skirt chaser. I resisted going out with him because of it—that and our social class differences, of course. So I was surprised when he didn’t pounce on me the first chance he got. That would have proved the rumors true, however. I understand him being cautious at first, but he went so slow, it was like he was determined to disprove his bad reputation by taking a vow of celibacy or something.”

“You mean that day we went sailing, when we left you on the yacht, alone, in the moonlight, nothing happened?”

“No, but that was my fault, although he blamed himself for not being as vigilant with the sunscreen as Jared was with you.”

“Oh, no!” Stacy cried.

“Oh, yes. I was as red as a lobster. We spent the evening hands-off, darn my luck, except when he was rubbing on the Solarcaine. He scolded me a bit, but I was in too much pain for anything else, or my butt would have been red for another reason.”

“So what made him change his mind?”

“Well… I was a bit cranky about it and came right out and asked him if he had a bet at work about how long he could keep me on the hook.”

“Jess, you didn’t!”

“I did. He took offense, naturally.”

“And busted your butt before he swept you up in his arms and carried you off to bed.” She sighed dramatically. “So romantic.”

Jessie felt her cheeks burn, glancing around to make sure no one had heard. “How did you know that’s what he did?”

“It’s exactly what Jared would have done. That’s another coincidence, isn’t it? Who would have thought we would both wind up with sexy, dominant surgeons who aren’t afraid to bust a little tail when the situation warrants? We’re so much alike, it really is kind of freaky,” Stacy said quietly.

“We’re kindred spirits, separated at birth or some such nonsense. It’s odd, but the whole spanking thing is what’s hard for me to wrap my brain around.”

“That was hard for me at first, too. Wait until he’s walloped your butt a few more times, then it’ll sink in.”

“I never imagined…” She stopped before that bold-faced lie passed her lips. The truth was that she had imagined it many times, especially since the first time. The thought of him taking her over his knee and smacking her behind filled her dreams and had completely taken over her fantasies.

“The first time Jared set me on fire, I was shocked, but after, he made up for it in other ways, very nice ways, so I teased him to get another one, to see if I was crazy.” Stacy flushed as she admitted, “I wasn’t.”

Jessie sat back as images of being bare and over Marc’s knee swamped her lust-filled brain.
Holy cow!
“I’ve read kinky books, and several about spanking and domestic discipline, but never thought to actually experience it.”

“Oh, sugar, my kindle is crammed plumb full of them; however, until Jared, they were only yummy fantasies. I have to admit reality is so much more delicious than fiction.” She waggled her eyebrows and laughed, a red-faced Jessie joining her. “I’ll share some of the good ones with you.”

“Ah, yes,” Jessie sighed. “Reading for pleasure, I remember those days. After I graduate in a few weeks, if I never see another textbook… Well, you know the saying.”

“I was thinking about going back to work on my MBA in the fall. Don’t discourage me.”

“Never! It will be worth it. Wow, an MBA, that’s a big deal.”

“It will be helpful with my new job and I think it might earn me a bit more respect. They see this,” her hand indicated her petite, though curvy frame, big blue eyes, and blond hair, “and think airhead.”

Jessie grimaced in sympathy. “I feel your pain. There is only so much boob and ass you can hide in baggy scrubs.”

“When drug reps come by the clinic, I want to pin a sign on my chest with a flashing arrow that says ‘my eyes are up here, fellas.’”

“Are all men such horndogs?”

Stacy shrugged. “I’m sure there are a few that aren’t ruled by their zipper.”

Their eyes met briefly, before they grinned and said in unison, “Nah!”

Chapter Eight

“Jessica Lynn Swanson.”

As her name was called by the assistant dean, Jessie stepped onto the stage and walked to the center to the accompaniment of an ear-piercing whistle—courtesy of Stacy—and an air horn—thanks to her mother—that drowned out the smattering of applause. She was toward the end of the alphabet, so the polite applause that had greeted each name had dwindled to only a few spectators, mostly family and friends, as each graduate’s name was called.

She beamed at Dean Winslow as she stepped in front of her and waited as she settled the hood over her shoulders. Then she turned, shook her hand, and accepted a beribboned scroll for her Masters in Nursing Administration. As she walked to the other end of the stage and down the stairs, her eyes rose to the audience. Third row center, she saw her mom, Stacy, Jared, and Marc grinning and waving happily. She laughed softly as Stacy gave her a double thumbs-up.

She returned to her seat amongst the one hundred or so other graduates celebrating commencements with her on that August morning. Most completed their coursework in the fall and spring semesters, but with more than the usual handful graduating during this summer term, the university had decided to add a summer event rather than making them wait until nearly Christmas. As she took her seat, the remaining names passed in a blur.

She’d done it! After eighteen months of late-night cram sessions, commuting two nights a week from her apartment in Troy to the Madonna University campus forty minutes away in good traffic, after working overtime, countless nights and weekends, and extra shifts to pay for the expenses her loan didn’t cover, and after sacrificing nearly all semblance of a social life, at long last, it was over. She had earned her graduate degree and was now that much closer to her goal. Everything was lining up as planned, except for one thing.

Her eyes shifted to Marc, who sat listening politely to the undergraduate names that were now being called. He wasn’t part of her plan. Not once had a man, any man ever figured into the equation. However, Marc Trent was no ordinary man. His charm and appeal eclipsed that of the mere mortals around him, so much that he had somehow inveigled his way past her shields, infiltrated all of her defenses, and captured her heart.

As if sensing her gaze, he looked up, an easy grin spanning his gorgeous face and he winked at her. A moment later, she watched as he bent his head to hear whatever her mother was saying. He appeared quite attentive as he listened and nodded. Not once did he sever their connection. Distance and people separated them, at least the length of the basketball court where commencements were being held, but she felt the embrace of his warm affection and practically melted. Their eyes remained locked until the announcement was made to rise for the singing of the alma mater.

As Jessie stood with her classmates, she knew that where Marc Trent was concerned, she was in deep trouble.

* * *

“Jessie.”

Recognizing her mother’s call, she scanned through the crowd, searching the hundreds of faces. Out of the corner of her eye, a dark brown head towering above almost all of the others caught her attention. Moving in that direction, she found their little group easily in the crowd by keeping her eyes on Marc’s smiling face. Her mother waved when she finally spotted her and moved forward, tears brimming as she pulled her into a rib-crushing hug.

“So proud of you, baby girl,” she whispered and Jessie knew it was heartfelt. Her own tears welled up as she buried her face against her neck.

“Thanks, mom,” she murmured tearfully.

She broke free when she felt Marc’s hand at her back and turned to be swallowed up by his arms as he gathered her close. Lifting her, he spun around as her feet dangled at least a foot off the ground.

“Happy for you,
cara mia,
and so very proud.” He had no qualms about planting a wet, juicy one on her mouth right in front of her mom and the thousand other people milling around the floor. She was blushing and laughing when he set her down.

Stacy’s arms engulfed her next, followed by a big brotherly hug and a kiss on the forehead from Jared.

“Picture time!” her mother called and they began a round of photos, including friends and fellow classmates who came up to congratulate her. She shed bittersweet tears, laughing and smiling for the camera until her face ached.

As things died down, Lily announced, “I made reservations for lunch at J. Alexander’s. My treat.”

“Thank you, mom, but you didn’t have to do that,” Jessie said. Lowering her voice, she added, “They’re too expensive. We’ll go Dutch treat.”

“No, sweetie,” Lily whispered back. “I want to do this. I’ve saved my tips for this day. I haven’t been able to give much toward your education, Jessica Lynn, but I can do this much in celebration of all you’ve accomplished.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t do much?” she blurted in outrage. “I couldn’t have done it without your love and support.”

“What a load of crap!” her mother laughed, cheeks wet with tears. “I didn’t contribute one thing to your college success. I wanted to, so badly. It was all you.” Her eyes shifted to Marc, then to Jared and Stacy as if embarrassed to be discussing her personal struggles.

Jessie pressed on, however; proud of the way her mother had kept at it, providing for them as best as she could, even after devastation had struck. “You can’t put a dollar sign on what you gave me, mom. What about all the late-night dinners while you quizzed me on my anatomy flash cards in undergrad, and my finance vocabulary and formulas in graduate school? You brought me soup during finals when you knew I wouldn’t stop to eat and chocolate chip cookies to the hospital to cheer me up when you knew I had back-to-back shifts of work and practicum three days in a row.”

“Okay, okay! I suppose indirectly I helped.”

Marc interrupted them. “Ladies, from where I stand, it’s obvious you’ve both spent a lifetime supporting each other and make an awesome team.”

“Hear, hear,” Jared agreed.

“The Swanson ladies totally kick ass,” Stacy chimed in, making them all laugh, including Jared, who rolled his eyes as he did.

Marc took Jessie’s hand and offered her mother his arm, “May I have the honor of escorting both of you kickass ladies to lunch? And, if it’s all right with you as the hostess, I’d like to provide a bottle of champagne for a toast.”

“That sounds nice, Marc. Thank you,” Her mother practically gushed like a schoolgirl as she placed her hand in the crook of his proffered arm, a blush of pink appearing on her cheeks. Her man certainly had charm; soon her mother would be making
him
soup and cookies, at least Jessie hoped that was true. Jessie squeezed his fingers and when he tipped his head down to her, she mouthed a heartfelt thank you. He lifted her hand and brushed a kiss along her knuckles before guiding them to the doors.

* * *

Marc continued their celebration with a sunset supper on his boat. He’d had it catered by Sinbad’s Restaurant, which was a popular riverfront seafood restaurant right there at the marina. On the menu was surf and turf of rock lobster and filet mignon and all the traditional sides, with chocolate-cappuccino cheesecake—her favorite—for dessert. Afterward, they cruised down the Detroit River in the moonlight while Jessie sipped champagne. Marc, who was captaining their ship, didn’t seem to mind drinking ginger ale, as she snuggled against him. At a leisurely pace, he steered them north past Belle Isle and beyond the dense city lights and out onto Lake St. Claire. After a while, he cut the engine, weighed anchor, and dimmed the navigation lights, switching to white lights as required for safety.

“Come out on the deck and we’ll snuggle on the loungers under the stars.”

She grinned happily, following him onto the fore deck where he settled into the cushioned double chaise lounge and held up his arms, inviting.

She sighed as she snuggled against his side, her head on his shoulder. “Mm, snuggling under the stars, it’s the perfect end to a perfect day.”

“I can think of a way to make it even better.”

“Better than perfect, I think I might die from pleasure.”

“
Le petite mort,
bella?
It would be my pleasure.”

“That’s French, not Italian. Is there a translation?”

“Nothing that fits it as well. Let’s see if we can find it, what do you say?”

She tilted her head back, offering her lips for his kiss. He didn’t disappoint. Starting out slowly, he whispered soft words in Italian, which she couldn’t begin to understand, but they sounded beautifully romantic. He could have been reciting the recipe for stewed prunes and she wouldn’t have known or cared. Succumbing to the magic of the night and his allure, she opened to him, accepting the amorous invasion of his tongue and his hands that roamed her body, rousing her so that she eagerly moved against him.