He slid me a sideways look. “It’s very different. Teaching could become something you want and something you love to do. You just need time.”

Time was a funny and fickle thing. Sometimes there was never enough of it, and other times it stretched out endlessly.

“I really believe that,” he said quietly.

Pressure clamped down on my chest. Maybe he was right. Maybe tomorrow or next week or next month, all of this wouldn’t seem like such a death sentence. But right now, I felt like I was free-falling, my arms flailing and there wasn’t anything to grab onto to stop my fall.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” I said, voice hoarse as I squeezed my eyes shut.

“What do you want?”

“I . . . I don’t want to think about this. Maybe that makes me weak.”

“It doesn’t,” he said, and I felt him roll onto his side.

“And I don’t want to feel this right now—this emptiness and uncertainty and confusion.” The next breath I took was shaky. “I just don’t want to feel this.”

Maybe I should’ve gotten the prescription filled.

There was a moment, perhaps no more than a heartbeat, and then his hand wrapped around the curve of my elbow. My eyes snapped open when he tugged me onto my back. Air hitched in my throat as his lean body hovered over mine as he rose up on his elbow.

“I have an idea,” he said with a small grin. The teasing look didn’t reach his eyes. Something else burned there. A powerful intensity that caused the muscles in my stomach to quiver. “And I think this idea will definitely have you feeling something else.”

“You do?” My heart rate picked up.

“Uh-huh.” He placed the tips of his fingers on my cheek and very slowly dragged them over my parted lips and then down my throat. “I have a degree in art.”

My brows rose. “What?”

“You didn’t know?” His hand moved farther south, over the hem of my shirt and then he stopped, his palm resting against the swells of my breasts. “I have a degree in the art of distraction.”

I laughed. “That’s so lame.”

“But it’s working, right?” He grinned as he lowered his head. His lips brushed the curve of my cheek, exactly where his fingers had been. “You know what else?”

“What?” I shivered as his hand moved again, sliding between my breasts and resting just below my belly button.

“There’s something else I have a degree in.” His lips grazed the corner of mine, and a rush of tingles shot over my skin. “You’re going to say it’s lame, but I’ll know the truth. You’re secretly amazed by my skill.”

“God only knows what it is.” I moved my lower lip, to bite down on it, but Jase beat me to it. His teeth caught my lip in a gentle nip. I gasped at the unexpected sensation, and he took that as an invitation. Covering my lips with his, he slipped his tongue in, twirling it over mine and then flicking along the roof of my mouth.

Heat surged through my body, coiling low in my stomach. A sharp pulse shot to every limb as he explored my mouth with his, kissing as if time was truly a luxury we both had. When he lifted his head, my lips felt pleasantly swollen.

I placed a hand against his chest, delighted to find his heart was pounding as fast as mine, and he was the one doing the kissing. “You have a degree in kissing?”

“That . . .” The firm glide of his lips over mine deepened as his hand moved down. He deftly undid the button on my jeans. “And in taking girls’ clothes off.”

I laughed and he caught the sound, turning it into a soft moan I couldn’t hold back. He answered with a deep sound that vibrated against my chest. My mouth dried as a thrumming hum of desire buzzed through me. In the back of my mind, uncertainty lingered—not the same as earlier, but a concern for Jase and me—for us. There were no labels between us, or definitions of what we were to each other, and I desperately wanted to place a label there. I wanted that security of tomorrow with him, the promise of another kiss. And I wanted more than that.

But then his hand slipped under my panties and the feel of his fingers nearing the very center of me scattered all thoughts and concerns. He really did have a degree in distraction, because my whole being became focused on what he was up to with his hand.

His lips scorched a path down my neck, nuzzling the skin as one long finger skimmed through the wetness between my thighs. I jerked at the intimate touch. He hadn’t touched me with his hands last time, so the whisper of his skin against mine was new and different and just as intoxicating.

Jase pressed a trail of hot, wet kisses up to the sensitive spot under my ear as he made another teasing pass with his finger. My entire body vibrated.

His hand stilled as he lifted his head. Our gazes locked. His eyes were a startling quicksilver. “I can’t forget the taste of you,” he said, and my entire body flushed. “And I’ve been dying to know how you feel.”

God knows I was not a blushing virgin on a good day, but his bold words absolutely scandalized me . . . in a totally good, wicked way. The fact that we were lying out in the open might also have something to do with that.

He kissed me again, resting most of his weight on the arm beside my head. The pressure of his finger below increased, and the knot in my lower stomach tightened. My body jerked on reflex, and another deep, grumbling sound came from him.

“You’re so wet,” he said in a husky voice, and I burned at those words. “I love it. You were probably like this before I even got my hand down there.”

Oh dear . . .

I swallowed hard, and he chuckled. “Am I embarrassing you?” he asked.

“No.” His words made me feel something entirely different.

“Good.”

Jase lowered his head, claiming my mouth in a kiss that shook me inside and out at the same moment he thrust one finger inside me. The sound that rose from me was muffled by his lips. I gripped his shoulders as my hips tipped up, seeking more. And I got more.

He pressed his palm against my most sensitive area, and lightning struck my veins. My toes curled in my flip-flops and both my legs jerked. A lick of pain encased my knee, but the other sensations racing through my system overwhelmed everything else. Desire clouded me. Jase was dangerous in all the right ways.

“God,” he groaned, tugging on my lower lip as his finger moved in and out. He added another finger, stretching me as he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against mine.

A tremble rocked his body as my hips followed his hand. The way his self-control stretched to its breaking point was my undoing. The tension unraveled, whipping through my body. Seeking his kiss, I came with his tongue tangled with mine, and the tremors seemed to go on forever.

Jase eased his hand away, but he stayed there, above me for a bit, his cheek pressed against mine as I dragged in deep breaths. It took me a few seconds to realize that he was breathing just as hard. When he rolled onto his side, I missed the weight of him, the warmth and closeness.

He pressed up against me. The pleasant numbness had sunk deep into my bones, but I could feel his hardness. I wanted to see him. It had been dark Saturday night, but what I could see and feel had been rather impressive. I also wanted to give him what he’d given me. I started to reach for him, but he caught my hand and brought it to his lips. He dropped a kiss to each of my knuckles. “I told you. This was for you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that as my eyes fluttered shut. A thank-you was definitely in order, but that seemed widely inappropriate. Not that I was turned off by doing inappropriate things obviously. Hell, my jeans were still unbuttoned, and I knew if I looked down, my polka-dotted undies would be peeking through, and I didn’t care enough to zip up my pants.

He kissed my temple then, and my heart did another crazy jump. And then it did a series of leaps that spelled L. O. V. E. The rush that came after that was so intense it was almost as frightening as it was consuming.

God, I wasn’t falling in love with Jase.

I was in love with him.

Probably had been since that night he showed up at my parents’ house, nearly three years ago, and that hadn’t lessened learning that he had a son, and one day that could turn into a very tricky situation, especially if momma ever reappeared, but we were here, together . . . but not.

“Hey,” Jase murmured, placing two fingers under my chin. He turned my head to his. “Where’d you go?”

Straight into crazy land. That’s where I went. Suddenly, I had to go there—go there with him, because my heart was already there, making itself comfy and happy, and I needed to be careful. I needed . . .

I needed that label.

Or I needed the truth of what we were to each other, and I needed that now.

Sixteen

“What are we doing?” I asked, and I thought I’d be afraid of that question once asked. Because if I didn’t ask, this relationship—whatever it was—could keep going, but it wasn’t enough.

“Relaxing.”

Tipping my head back, I bit back a sigh as his lips brushed mine, threatening to tug me back into the sensual haze. I so needed to focus. “You know what I mean. Us. What are we doing?”

He trailed his fingers down my throat, causing me to shiver as if a chill had danced over my bones. “Are you sure you want to talk about that right now?”

Unease exploded in my belly, chasing away the pleasant hum. “I think we need to, especially after that. And this weekend. And hell, the hay—”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.” He rose up again, onto his elbow. “It’s just a lot has happened in the last couple of days. With your knee and—”