Tell Me You Want Me (10 page)

What the hell?
Jane slapped the beeping oven timer, both relieved and disappointed by the interruption. "Dinner's ready."

Austin sighed.

A square oak table and four chairs were tucked in the small space between the kitchen and living room, creating an intimate dining room. Jane set Austin's flowers as the centerpiece, lit a pair of candles, then set two places opposite each other. When she went back to the kitchen, Austin moved his plate to the corner next to hers.

"I won't bite...."

She saw right through those devious blue eyes. "Unless I want you to?"

He laughed when she bit her lip. "Exactly."

"Shut up and pour the wine."

"My pleasure."

She served her favorite, most dependable recipes: chicken with lime butter, mustard green beans, and roasted red potatoes. She couldn't go wrong with that.

"Wow, Janie, this is delicious."

"Thank you."

"Who taught you how to cook?"

"My mother did. Cooking was the one thing she let me have fun doing."

"What else did she not let you do?"

"Where do I start? She wouldn't let me go to R-rated movies. She wouldn't let me listen to rock music. 'It's the devil's music,' she said. She wouldn't let me go to dances. She didn't let me go out on dates till I was eighteen."

"Damn."

"But I did sneak out with my girlfriends a few times. We met up with guys and went dancing and to the movies. She grounded me for two months when she found out."

"Ouch."

"She didn't let me wear makeup, but I borrowed some from my friends' at school, and then I accidentally wore it home one day."

"How long did you get for that?"

"The eye shadow smeared all over my shirt, so I had to do the laundry for a month." That reminded her of another of her mother's rules. "She only let me wear white cotton underwear, so as soon as I went away to college, I bought a bunch of tiny lacey panties and matching bras—"

"Is that right?" His gaze landed on her chest, and his wicked grin stripped her naked.

"Oh. Yeah." Jane crossed her arms over her breasts.

"So why aren't you an uptight prude like her? You seem to be a normal hot-blooded woman. What changed you?"

She took a sip of her wine and thought about that. "I wouldn't say I've changed. I've always been normal and hot-blooded, as you put it. My mother tried to squelch that, but it didn't take. My dad's family was normal, laid-back and easy-going like him. They had a good time no matter what they did, but my mother constantly judged me. I tried my best to win her approval, but I couldn't do it. After my dad died, I learned to think for myself, and ever since then, I haven't really cared what other people think of what I do."

"And yet you still worry about your reputation here on campus."

She met his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, I still have some issues to work on. I still feel guilty when I have too much fun. I still do things I know my mother wouldn't like, just to spite her. I hope someday I won't care anymore."

Austin downed his wine and refilled their glasses. "Would your mother like me?"

Jane laughed. "Not at all."

"Good."

"Although I suspect you could charm her for a while before she figured out how wicked you really are."

"Yeah, I've been charming women since the day I was born. My mother could never stay mad at me. I just had to smile at her and flash my baby blues, and she would melt."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"I can get away with anything. My sisters hate me for it, but it works on them too."

"Are you the baby of the family?"

"Nope. Middle child, but I'm the only boy."

"Spoiled rotten."

"Yes I am."

"Is your father a charmer like you?"

His smile faded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked about him."

"It's okay." He gulped his wine. "Yes, he is. I learned a lot from him, but most of it comes naturally." He winked at her.

"What else did your father teach you?"

He groaned. "Now that's a question you definitely shouldn't have asked."

"Oh." She bit her lip and looked down at her plate.

His lips formed a hard line as he pushed his chair back and crossed his arms over his chest. "My father taught me that love is for romance novels, Hallmark cards, and getting laid on Valentines' Day. Romance doesn't last, so just have a good time—no strings attached—and no one gets hurt."

She took a bite of chicken and thought about that. "There's nothing wrong with having a good time." Isn't that why she'd decided to go out with him? "But don't you want more than that?"

He gave her a blank look. "Like what?"

"Like commitment, a relationship, someone you can spend the rest of your life with?"

He didn't budge. "Nope."

"Oh, sorry, is that too boring for you?" She scowled at him over the top of her wine glass.

"No, not boring. I just don't think it's possible. I
know
it isn't."

She glared at him, searching his eyes for that mischievous sparkle, but he stared right back at her, completely serious. "I think it's possible."

"Well, that's where you're wrong."

"It is possible if you meet the right person." Her protest was a little more desperate than she'd intended.

He cringed. "And who would that be? I can't possibly be the right guy for you—or anyone. It's not that simple."

"How would you know if any girl is right for you if you don't stick around long enough to find out?"

"My parents—"

"Oh please!" Jane slapped her fork down on the table. "When are you going to stop blaming your parents for your pathetic love life?"

Austin pushed his chair back hard and stood up. "For my what?"

"You heard me." She got to her feet and advanced on him. "Your dad couldn't stay with one woman, so you use that as an excuse to do the same thing."

He stepped back. "It's not an excuse. I like variety."

"Is that what you want?" She stood with her hands on her hips, searching his eyes again for some hint at the truth. "Is variety what makes you happy?"

"Happiness has nothing to do with it." He broke their gaze, turning away from her and running his hands through his hair.

She held her ground. "Really? You're just looking for a good time?"

"A variety of good times." He looked back at her and grinned, but he quickly got serious. "It's who I am, Janie. I am what my parents' pathetic relationship made me." He sighed and put his hands on the back of his chair, leaning on it for support. "If that's not good enough for you—"

Jane shook her head, cutting him off. "I don't buy that. I could've turned into an uptight prude like my mom, but I learned to think for myself. I make my own choices."

"What choices have you made?"

She sat down at the table, took a sip of wine and thought about it. "I chose to play soccer. I chose to go away to school. I chose to be here with you tonight." She looked up at him, her lips pressed together, wondering if she'd made the right choice.

The hard set of his jaw disappeared. "That was your choice? I thought you couldn't resist me."

"Yeah, that might have something to do with it, but remember...." She tried to give him a disapproving look, but couldn't get rid of her smile. "I said no first."

"I remember. I also remember how you couldn't keep your hands off me in the library." His eyes slid down her body. "And in the park."

"You started it." She looked away again.

"You didn't stop it." He sat down and reached across the table, making her look at him. "Tell me you want me, Janie."

"No." She tried to defy him. "You tell me."

"I already have. That's never been a secret." Austin withdrew his hand and met her eyes. "I don't lie. If anything, I'm a little too honest."

"So I've noticed."

"I say what's on my mind, and I don't give a shit what other people think."

"I've noticed that too."

"For example, I think your bare feet are the sexiest part of your body I've seen so far, and I can't wait to see the rest of it." He slid closer, but didn't touch her. "And to get my hands on it. Again."

Her skin got hot and her heart pounded.
Oh God.
One smooth line from him, and she was willing to forget all about their argument and crawl into his lap. "You don't know when to quit."

"Should I?"

She shook her head.

"I didn't think so." He grabbed her behind her knee and pulled her closer, chair and all, and slid his hand up her thigh.

He wanted to sleep with her tonight; she could see it in those gorgeous blue eyes.
Oh God. Oh—
"Damn it."

"What did I do wrong?"

"I forgot to make dessert." Jane hoped he couldn't tell she was stalling. She'd crawled all over him when she knew he wouldn't do anything about it, but now she knew he would, and it scared her.

"You're my dessert." He stood up and held out his hand. "Come sit on the couch with me."

"What about the dishes?" Was he testing her? Did he want to see how far she'd let him go?

"They're not going anywhere. Come on." He took her hand and practically dragged her to the living room.

She sat on the couch the way her mother had taught her to sit in church: straight up, knees pressed together, hands in her lap. Austin sat beside her and slid his hand into her hair, massaging the back of her neck. She tried to let his touch relax her, but it didn't work.

Why am I nervous?
Sara wouldn't be home until tomorrow morning, and Jane's bedroom was right down the hall. Jane knew all of that; she'd planned it that way. But for some stupid reason, she could only think about that awkward first time—clumsy groping, sloppy kissing, pain.
It won't be like that with Austin, will it?

His hand moved in slow circles under her hair, down her neck, across her shoulders. He reached out and touched her face with his fingers, stroking down her cheek until she turned and looked at him.

He didn't say a word, but his eyes told her everything she needed to know. It would never be awkward with him. She relaxed and shifted to a more comfortable position.

He grabbed her ankles and lifted her feet onto his lap, rubbing them one at a time.

"Mmm... you're so good with your hands." She sighed as the tension finally left her body.

"So I've been told." He gritted his teeth. "Red is a good color on you." He stroked her painted toes.

"Thank you."

"Did your mother forbid you to wear nail polish?"

"No, she didn't. That's the weird thing. Her nails were always painted bright gaudy colors. She almost had a fetish for it."

"That
is
weird." An evil smile twisted his lips. "Do you know what I have a fetish for?"

"I'm afraid to ask."

He laughed and ran his fingertips down the center of her foot. "Tickling pretty girls."

"Eek! Don't do that." She jerked her leg away.

He caught her foot again and rubbed it while she closed her eyes and sighed. "Actually, I have a fetish for touching. Girls in general; you in particular." Then he tickled her.

"Stop it." Jane giggled and pulled her foot away again, and tucked it under her.

"You know I can't resist a challenge."

"Try."

"Sounds like a challenge to me." He grabbed her ankle and tickled the bottom of her foot, holding tight as she squealed and squirmed.

"Austin, no!" She gasped and flailed, wrenching her foot free and kicking him in the head.

"Uh," he grunted.

"Oh my God." She scrambled to her knees. "Are you all right? I didn't mean to do that." She gently touched his temple, searching for any permanent damage.

"Yeah." He closed his eyes and leaned back. "Remind me never to tickle a pretty soccer player."

"I'm so sorry. That was a total reflex." Jane scurried to the kitchen, and returned with some ice.

"It's okay." He held the ice to the side of his head. "A kick to the head will probably do me some good."

"I'm sorry."

Austin groaned, but his eyes sparkled just a bit as she frowned and picked up the ice pack. "I don't see any bruising or swelling." She kissed his cold skin.

"I'm kinda dizzy." He slumped sideways, his face landing nicely between her breasts.

His moan sounded a little too happy. He slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled closer, the skin inside the V of her shirt vibrating as he hummed against her. "Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." His tongue slipped under her shirt, searching.

His mouth on her skin felt hot and soft, sending little jolts of electricity all through her body. She wanted more. How could she tell him that?
What's holding me back?
Free from her mother's rules, free from her mother's guilt, but her own insecurity still got in her way.

Jane took a deep breath and made up her mind.
Yes.
She wanted Austin, and refused to let anything stop her tonight. She lay back on the couch, stretching out beside him. "You know, if you want to fool around, all you have to do is ask." She draped her legs over his lap, keeping her feet a safe distance from his head.

"Nope." He pressed his lips over her pounding heart. "Why bother asking when I have you right where I want you?"

"Do you, now?"

"Oh, hell yes. Let me show you."

He caressed the length of her body, sliding his hand under her jeans from her bare ankle to her knee. When he couldn't reach any higher, he pulled his hand out and palmed her thigh, slowly rubbing in circles, cupping her bottom and giving it a squeeze before sliding his hand around to her hip. His fingers traveled just under her jeans and stroked her bare stomach. Then he moved his hand up under her shirt instead of down, caressing her ribs, skimming along below her bra.

She held her breath, waiting for him to keep moving up. He did, but over the top of her shirt—not under it as she'd hoped—caressing her shoulders and neck. His gaze followed his fingertips as they traced inside her neckline, down one edge and up the other, exploring her breasts as they rose and fell under his touch. Her body tingled everywhere he touched her. When her eyes met his, he lifted her chin in his wandering hand and kissed her.