When I Need You, Page 29

  Me: I wondered if we could talk? Early tomorrow night? Over dinner?

  Me: I’ll cook. Send me your dietary restrictions if there are any.

  Me: I really missed you.

  He didn’t respond for nearly fifteen minutes.

  JL: Dinner sounds good. No restrictions. What should I bring?

  I started to type condoms, but backspaced over it.

  Me: Just bring yourself

  JL: Should I bring Harry Potter so C and I can catch up? We’ve missed a few nights.

  Me: No Calder. Just us tomorrow night.

  I watched the typing text message icon start and stop. Start and stop. Start and stop. Then I received:

  JL: Okay. Be there at 6

  • • •

  Of course I was running late on a Monday.

  I hadn’t gotten home until five fifteen. I loaded up Calder’s overnight bag—this time including Pepto-Bismol for if his stomach got wonky—and we walked over to Nicolai’s.

  I’d worked out a swap with Gabriel and Gejel. Calder stayed with them tonight and Nicolai would stay over with us Friday night, allowing his parents to celebrate their anniversary at a B&B up north.

  This babysitting co-op thing might end up being a sanity saver for everyone.

  I didn’t get back to my floor until five fifty-five. Too late to throw the lasagna in the oven, so I’d have to go to plan B.

  It’d become a habit as I moved about the training center to spin my keys on my finger until the metal hit my palm, then spin them back out. An annoying habit, I’d been told, but one that I couldn’t break even when I wasn’t at the gym. I spun my keys in the elevator.

  Smack. Jingle. Smack. Jingle.

  I continued to spin them as I exited the elevator and turned the corner on the second floor.

  The smack, jingle, smack, jingle caught Jensen’s attention, and he turned to face me.

  My heart zoomed from zero to two hundred in those four long seconds we stared at each other.

  With the way he’d slung his equipment bag over his shoulder, the strap pulled his shirt taut so the fabric clung to every muscle in his back and his arm.

  Oh, how I’ve missed you, you sexy beast.

  Of course, I didn’t say that. I waited for him to say something first.

  But why? Doesn’t he always make the first move?

  Not always. You’re usually the first one to retreat.

  I internally cringed because that was true.

  Jensen’s eyes remained on me as I closed the distance between us. I tried not to fidget even when I knew I looked like a trainwreck. No makeup, my hair pulled back in a stubby ponytail, wearing my usual work uniform: maroon athletic pants sporting the U of M logo, and a too-tight gold workout top with a compression bra that squished my boobs flat. Not exactly the date-night attire I’d prepared to wow him with.

  “Hey. I’m running behind.”

  “That’s fine. Practice ended late anyway.” Then he took two steps toward his door.

  Two hitching steps that put a grimace on his face.

  “What did you do to your leg?” I demanded.

  “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Too late. Tell me what happened.”

  “Really, Coach. It’s fine.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I take a look.” I dropped to my knees on his left side and ran my hand down the back of his calf. “Is it a burning or a snapping pain?”

  “Neither. Shooting.”

  “Worse when it bears forward weight?”

  “Forward weight sends the shooting pain up my shin, not my calf.”

  “Turn your knee in, please.” He complied. “Worse? Better? No change?”

  “Better.”

  Damn, he had muscular calves. Perfectly sculpted and veiny. But who had that type of muscle definition by their shin bone?

  “Rowan?”

  Awesome. I’d just felt him up. Actually, it was pretty freakin’ awesome because I’d never had my hands on this part of his body before. I pushed on the outside of his calf from his ankle, slowly up to his knee. “Have you added more cardio this week?”

  “No.”

  “Running on a different surface? Asphalt, concrete or turf instead of treadmill?”

  “Nope.”

  “New shoes?” When he didn’t respond, I looked up at him.

  “Yeah, I got new shoes. But they’re the exact same brand I’ve been wearing. Same style, same size, same laces, same everything.”

  “Except they’re new. With different soles. Could be a little harder. Or softer. Wider. Narrower. Without measuring, I’d say the flare by the heel is narrower than your previous pair. You’re running on the outside of your foot to try to compensate. It’s putting pressure on the tibialis anterior.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “If it’s the shoes, then why aren’t I having any issues with the right foot?”

  “Because you’ve been favoring your right side for a year and a half since your injury. You automatically compensate for it.”

  “So, Coach, what’s your recommendation?”

  I blinked at him. “To talk to your trainers about it.”

  “That’s it? You’re a trainer.”

  “I’m not your trainer. Big difference. A massage would help.”

  “You offering?” he said huskily. “Because if you’re on your knees I can think of another part of me that’s in worse need of a rubdown.”

  My heart just . . . caught fire.

  Or maybe that was my panties.

  “What is it about you that has me all tied up in knots?” Jensen reached down and pulled the tie out of my hair. “You break all three of my rules.” Then he slid his hand down to cup my jaw. “And for as much shit as I gave you about being a rule follower? I am too. I’ve never broken any of them before. Never wanted to. Until I met you.” He let his hand fall to his side. “Sweetheart, get up. I’ve only got so much control.”

  I had a front-row seat to seeing how being on my knees affected him. I scrambled to my feet and took a few steps back. “I’ll just go get ready.”

  Jensen bestowed a thorough sweep of those molten blue eyes over me. “Get ready for what?”

  “Our dinner date.”

  “It can wait. Where’s Calder?”

  “Staying overnight at a friend’s.”

  “Did you plan that?”

  “Yes. After our plans fell through Friday night, I decided to make some contingency plans. Not just for one night. For the long term.” I kept my eyes on his. “Spending time alone with you . . . I’m making it a priority. This isn’t a onetime thing for me.”

  He tipped his head back to the ceiling and said, “Thank you, Jesus.” Then he pinned me with his laser-sharp gaze. “Now what?”

  Despite my worries that my sexual inexperience would frustrate or disappoint him, I seized the moment. “Now . . . you put your bold talk into action.”

  Twenty

  JENSEN

  Rowan conveyed exactly what I needed to hear.

  Not just the promise of hot sex, but proof that she’d dealt with her doubts about us.

  What a goddamned relief.

  She sauntered closer with a sensuous sway of her hips.

  Once we were toe to toe, I flattened my palm on the base of her throat and gently curled my fingers around her neck, feeling her pulse jump beneath my stroking thumb.

  She glanced down at my hand, and then those mesmerizing hazel eyes met mine with complete trust.

  Without a word, I reached behind me and opened the door.

  As soon as we were locked in my apartment, I had my mouth on her. My hands on her. Greedy to touch and taste every part of her.

  Rowan kissed me, her passion equally all-consuming.

  “Bedroom,” I growled after I broke the kiss.

  “Couch.”

  That gave me pause. “Why?”

  “You ever fucked a woman on that enormous puffy couch that you adore so much, Lund?”

 
I smiled against her neck. “No.”

  “Then I want to be the first at something for you too.”

  “Too?”

  She stood on her tiptoes and placed her mouth on my ear. “You’re the first man I’ve let into my heart and into my life since before Calder was born.”

  Might be kinda, sorta halfway in love . . . Nope. Totally in love with this woman.

  I forced her to look at me. “The only man,” I corrected fiercely.

  “Then I want to be the only woman you fuck on that couch.”

  “How about if you’re the only woman I ever fuck . . . period.”

  Her eyes gleamed. “Deal.”

  Elated, I picked her up and tossed her over the back of the couch.

  She squealed.

  I planned on hearing that a lot tonight.

  “Strip naked. Striptease another time.”

  “Anxious?” she said in a sexy coo as she pitched her athletic shoes toward the entryway.

  “You have no fucking idea.”

  “I do actually.” Her damp workout shirt landed on my head. Immediately the scent of her—a mix of laundry detergent, her perfume and the light musk of her sweat—hit me like a damn drug. I managed to say, “You have lousy aim, Coach.”

  “My aim is true. That was a prompt for you to hurry up. I’m already half-naked.”

  My shoes flew off. My shirt gone in an instant. I paused before I ditched my workout shorts. “Hang on.” I opened my duffel bag, rooting around until I found the box of unopened condoms. I lobbed the box into the corner of the couch before I vaulted over the edge.

  Like me, she still wore her bottoms, but her upper half was bare. I crawled toward her and she waited, resting on her elbows, those gorgeous full breasts on display, her eyes dark with heat, her lips parted. “What’s first on the menu of sexual delights, since we’re skipping dinner?”

  “Let’s start with this.” I kissed her as if that were all I wanted from her: one kiss. Then another. And another. While feeding her more fleeting, flirty kisses, I settled next to her, lying on our sides, facing each other. I traced the edge of her jaw with the back of my knuckles. “What?”

  “I want to touch you.”

  “You can do that as much as you want, beautiful.” Seeing her hesitation, I placed her hand on my chest. “Start here.”

  Her tentative touch lasted about fifteen seconds. Then her greed took over. She outlined the thick slabs of muscle that were my pectorals. First with her fingers, then with her tongue. Emboldened by the groans she’d wrought from me, she circled my nipple with the pad of her thumb as her other hand coasted down my arm. She paid particular attention to mapping the tendons, cords and veins on my forearms until every hair on my body prickled with awareness as the electricity between us began to build.

  From the moment she’d bared her breasts I’d been biding my time, trying not to act obsessed about getting my hands and mouth all over them. But watching Rowan touch me and witnessing her confident little smirk because she could see how much her explorations affected me was unbelievably sexy.

  Her thorough examination of the dips and grooves of my biceps and triceps followed. In fact, Rowan seemed a little infatuated with my arms as she glided her fingertips from the bend in my elbow to the ball of my shoulder. Over and over. She murmured, “Your body is outstanding.”

  I’d received a multitude of comments on my physique over the years and never paid much attention to them. My body was a tool. A weapon. Since my injury I’d seen it as a broken piece of equipment. But the admiration and lust in Rowan’s eyes, her words of praise filled me with pride that she saw it as an instrument of pleasure.

  She ran the tips of her fingers across my collarbone. Up my neck. Over the curve of my jaw. Sweeping her thumb over my lips. “I like your face, Lund.”

  I laughed softly. “My face would like to say hello to your tits.”

  “Funny, my tits were just thinking the same thing.” She rolled to her back and stretched her arms above her head.

  I pounced on her, my hands cupping and squeezing the soft flesh as my mouth homed in on her nipples. I loved feeling the tips harden beneath my stroking tongue. I loved how Rowan bowed her back, trying to get me to take more of her into my mouth. Each nip, every hard suck, every scrape of my teeth made her squirm and buck and moan.

  I wanted more—to hell with taking it slow. I had the burning need to turn her into a sweating, panting mess. To watch with pure male satisfaction as she lay boneless in the middle of my couch after I’d sated her desire to the point where she couldn’t even move.

  Hooking my fingers inside the band of her workout pants, I slid them down her legs, planting kisses on her quads, her knees, her shins. After I had undressed her completely, I pushed on the insides of her thighs as a signal for her to make room for me.

  Her legs fell open and I lowered my weight onto her, swallowing her gasp of surprise when she felt my erection jumping against her belly with eagerness.

  Then I kissed a path from her chin to her belly button.

  Rowan giggled and tried to squirm away. “It tickles.”

  “What? This?” I let the ends of my hair skim across the lower swells of her breasts. Then I trailed my hair down her belly, stopping to tease the smooth, sensitive section between her hip bones.

  She twisted her upper torso, trying to get me to move. “Jensen. Stop,” she said between giggles.

  Locking my gaze to hers, I murmured, “Baby, you really don’t want me to stop, do you?”

  A long pause cooled the heat between us.

  Her hand shook when she reached down to tuck my hair behind my ear. “It’s just . . .”

  I noticed that her face was flushed. I’d chalked it up to arousal, but now I suspected embarrassment. “Am I doing something wrong?”

  “No. But I didn’t shower.”

  “So that’s why your scent is driving me wild.” Beneath her belly button, I rubbed my lips from her left side to her right. And back. “Tell me what you want, Ro.”

  Her words tumbled out in a rush. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a guy go down on me and I forgot how exposed I am.”

  Okay. She needed more time. I could give her that. For her, I’d learned patience. Because I knew she was worth the wait.

  I rolled onto my knees and then stood, trying to keep my balance on the wobbly cushions.