Read Misplaced Innocence Online
Authors: Veronica Morneaux
She hailed a cab with one hand while clinging to the wheelchair with the other. She briefly considered giving the apparatus a hefty push and sending it into traffic, just to see what would happen. That thought also brought her immeasurable pleasure, and it was enough to keep her occupied while she helped maneuver Jared from the leather seat of the chair into the sticky heat of the upholstered cab.
She popped the chair into a waiting attendant’s hands, waved jauntily as she climbed into the front of the cab and directed the cabbie toward the local Sheraton. One hurdle down, just a few more to go.
The next hurdle, it turned out, was checking in at the hotel. Jared had been more or less out of the way when he was in the wheelchair. Now, he was propped up at the counter, poking through papers, just as disagreeable as he had been in the hospital.
Charisma rolled her eyes at the clerk and yanked the pen away from Jared for the second time. “Why don’t you just go sit down while I finish this up?” she growled between her teeth.
“Why don’t you just go sit down and I’ll take care of this?” he snarled back.
Charisma wondered if it would be frowned upon to crack the man still wrapped in bandaged and encased in a sling. On the other hand, her bruise had finally begun to fade and left an ugly green and blue welt that went through a shocking array of sickly colors before blending into the regular tint of her skin. They made quite the appalling pair.
She snatched the electronic keys from the clerk as soon as they were available and he offered her a tight smile which she could only imagine hid a gross of other things he would rather be doing or saying. She stalked away from Jared, but he managed to keep pace with her – something she thought took more out of him than he was letting on, considering the current state of his ribs and the most recent dosing of his pain killers.
The elevator sang its arrival and Charisma found herself wishing he had been placed in the custodial closet down the hall instead of the fourth floor. Every minute with him was just downright painful. He was in need of a vacation. Or a lobotomy. At the rate she was willing to take either one of those options.
They snaked through the hallway until they came to Jared’s room. It was one of the last on the floor. She’d asked for something out of the way, out of the goodness of her heart she couldn’t seem to locate for Jared recently, because she wanted him to have as much uninterrupted sleep time as possible. She knew that somewhere, beneath all that gruff and horribly annoying attitude was the same Jared she had actually liked to spend time with. It was only a matter of time before that Jared made another appearance. She was hoping sleep would put him on the fast track to wellness. That was pretty much the last idea she had. Real food hadn’t helped. Jokes hadn’t helped. Smiling nurses hadn’t helped. Basically she had tried every conceivable, man-approved, approach to achieving equilibrium for Jared and they had all been promptly and emphatically squelched.
The door swung wide and Charisma tossed the duffel bag filled with Jared’s belongings by the ironing board. She flipped on the lights and turned on the AC. The sooner she could get Jared settled and get out of here, the better.
Jared had taken three steps into the room and sunken into an overstuffed chair. His hairline was damp with sweat. His face had a sallow pallor to it that tugged at Charisma and left her, despite her best efforts, concerned for him.
She breezed into the bathroom and wet one of the washcloths with cool water. She made her way back to Jared and pressed the cloth against his face before he yanked it from her grasp and grumbled the most unheartfelt “Thank You” she had ever heard.
“I need to be going,” she announced unnecessarily in response.
“Fine. Go.”
Charisma wanted to throw her hands up in the air and scream. Maybe she would stomp on his feet for good measure. Knowing she couldn’t do that and claim any semblance of adulthood or even sanity, she pasted the sweetest smile she could muster or her face and searched for every ounce of sugar for her next words. “Can I get you anything before I leave? Would you like to watch some TV?”
He grunted in what might be considered a response, but which Charisma could neither interpret as positive or negative. She sighed, let the anger seep from her and pulled back the comforter.
It was a king sized bed. She had splurged because she’d seen him tossing and turning in that ridiculous twin sized hospital bed for too many days. She thought he would enjoy the extra space, but right about now she was wishing she’d just asked for a regular cot. Without blankets or pillows, preferably. Charisma retrieved the remote control and filled a glass with water. She arranged the items neatly on the beside table, made sure the telephone and alarm clock where within easy reach and waited for Jared to make his move toward the bed.
He made no such move. Instead he continued to sit on the chair, watching Charisma sullenly as she made her way around the room. She took a deep breath. As obnoxious as he had been, there was no way she could leave him sitting there like that. She crossed the room and held her arm out toward him. He took it reluctantly, abandoning his lovely new attitude for the moment.
She helped him to the bed, sat him on the edge, arranged his pillows, leaned him back, swung his legs up onto the bed. When it was all said and done, she was as winded as he was. “How’s that?” she asked, pushing a chunk of dark hair behind her ear.
She had fully expected another one of his pat high school answers, but instead she caught him watching her intently when he said, “It’s great. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” the response was automatic, complete with a smile and Charisma was almost angry that she had been willing to forgive him so quickly. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He shook his head and tapped the bed beside him. “Just sit. Bet we can find something to watch.”
Something about the grin in his eye and the dirty edge to his voice made Charisma blush and she muttered something about the depth of Pay-Per-View films. She settled herself on the bed next to him, leaning heavily into the pillows. A sigh slipped from her, closely followed by a suppressed yawn. This day had been just as long for her. This whole week had been long. Setting up court dates, reconciling with her mother, waiting for Jared to be released from the hospital. It had all taken its toll. The good news was it was all done, and from here it could only get better.
She was about to voice that thought out loud, then ask for Jared to pass the remote when she felt his hand slip over hers. She almost jerked at his caress, it was so unexpected. He ran the pad of his thumb over the arch of her knuckles. She took a covert glance in his direction. His eyes were closed, his dark, spiky lashes rested against his skin, made him seem even more pale than he was.
She let her hand tighten around his, and rubbed the pad of his thumb with hers. The television played the cyclic hotel channel, but neither Charisma nor Jared paid any attention to it all. Charisma willed her heart to stop beating so fast and let her eyes settle on Jared's.
“Don’t ever leave me like that again,” Jared commanded, his grip tightening to the point of pain, his eyes hooded and indiscernible.
Charisma bit her lip, winced inwardly and murmured softly, “I wont, I promise. I know I shouldn't have. I'm sorry-”
But her words were cut short. In a valiant effort, not quite able to forget his broken ribs and injured arm, Jared leaned toward Charisma, lingering there in a familiar and encompassing tension. His mouth met hers, and she was surprised by the feel of his s skin on hers, the warmth and roughness, the tender way he sought her taste. Their lips played against each other softly, before becoming urgent in their purpose. Charisma let out the smallest of sighs. Of all her many kisses, none had been as perfect, as moving, as this one. It was everything they had been through and everything they had yet to do. His tongue slid along her lips, sending tingles all the way down the length of her spine.
Desire welled within her, and she pressed her lips hard against his, her hand sliding up his shirt, under his sling, navigating as carefully as she could. Her hands danced across the breadth of his muscled chest, reveling in its raw maleness. Another sweet sigh escaped her and he smiled against her mouth.
With passion and confidence she hadn’t known in years, maybe ever, she turned fully toward him, slipping one leg over him until she was comfortably repositioned astride him. It was all the encouragement he needed. With his single free hand, he tore at her blouse, unconcerned with the pearlized buttons, still interlocked in passionate, furious kisses. She would have never imagined they could be so intense, so richly laden with the shared hunger. She unbuttoned his shirt as well, her hands moving deftly and quickly down the front, and then smiled through the kisses as she helped him with hers, saving the few remaining buttons from an undetermined fate.
She let her shirt fall from her shoulders, let his hand run over the expanse of smooth skin, the shapely flare of her hip and the trim indent of her waist. She could feel his hardness beneath her, and she pressed herself unashamedly against him.
Jared groaned softly, skillfully unhooking her bra and escorting it from her body. He let his hand explore the newly exposed area, lingering on the shapely swells of sensitive skin.
She unsnapped his sling and carefully, reeling in her breathing and willing her heartbeat to slow, placed his bad arm to his side, out of the way and with his body fully available to her perusal.
“Don’t move it,” she whispered, interrupting the endless kiss for the quick command and a smile.
“You're perfect,” was his only reply.
She laughed quietly and leaned into him, careful not to put her full weight on his tender chest.
She let herself slide next to him, pressing the length of her body against his. Jared rocked onto his side, wondering at how their bodies fit so perfectly together. He slipped his hand over her jeans, over her waist and her thighs. He ran a finger across her stomach and worked his way back up to her breasts, showering her body with light, playful touches; he wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her. The room was filled with the gentle sounds of pleasure as she placed gentle, seductive kisses on his neck, his collar, the line of his jaw.
When he thought he couldn't take another minute of the sweet torture, he unbuttoned her jeans perhaps a little too eagerly, surprised to see that his hand was shaking, and let his hand slide beneath the material. He nudged her until she moved onto her back, pulling down her own pants, when it became clear it was something Jared was having a difficult time achieving with one hand. His jeans were quick to follow, and her body was finally bare and pressed against his and the prelude of pleasure gave way to the main event.
He let himself take a moment just to enjoy her sweet depths. She was warm around him and she moaned at the gentle invasion. Beads of moisture began to dot his brow as he moved in and out of her, giving as much pleasure as he was receiving. Her hips bucked up against him, tempting him with what was still to come. A gasp tore from her as a wave of electricity rocked her to the very core.
She kissed him hard, and he returned her kiss with equal force, eager and hungry. He tasted the sweetness of her mouth and felt the warmth of her hands as they explored his body.
Then she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, bringing him close. He let his forehead rest on hers for a moment of perfect connection between them. Everything was right, everything was perfect, and that thought seemed to radiate between them.
“I never knew how much I loved you until I thought I'd lost you.” Jared whispered softly, trying his hardest not to let her hear the crack in his voice.
“I was scared, too.” Charisma's words echoed his tone. She tilted toward him and as their lips met again, Jared sank more deeply into her, desperate to be close, to be as close as two people can be.
Charisma rocked with his motion, her whole being wanting Jared more than she could imagine possible. They merged in their desperate dance, matching each others' motion, rhythm, and pace. Charisma felt that familiar quake of heat and electricity, of power and passion surge through her, and moments later, she felt Jared explode with the same passion.
They lay together for a long time, tangled in each others arms. They clung to each other at first, desperate to convey without words how much they wanted each other, how terrified they had been, and how they never wanted to be apart again. But as their breath slowed and their bodies cooled, the urgency in their embrace slackened, and then they were just wrapped in each other, comfortable and at peace.
Charisma closed her eyes and pressed into his warmth. A smile settled on her face, and she doubted it would go anywhere anytime soon. The last thought she had before she drifted off to sleep was that this was the most perfect moment of her life; nothing else had ever come close.
Charisma took a deep breath. She extended her hand slowly toward the door. She could hear her own breathing in her ears and it was deafening. The door seemed achingly far from her outstretched hand. She rested her fingers on the cool metal of the handle, before a gentle rustling caught her attention. She turned around abruptly, whipping her hand from the handle, and bringing it up to pull through her hair, as though she had never intended to open that door in the first place. Jared stood just behind her, and from the look on his face, he’d been there a while. She cast her eyes downward, studying the scuffed toe of her shoe. This was maybe the third or fourth time she had tried to open this God-forsaken door; she desperately hoped Jared had not witnessed each one of those attempts.
Charisma had been on a self-proclaimed, and yet well deserved, vacation for the last few weeks. But now, she had reasoned, it was time to pick up her life and piece it back together.