Not for a Moment: One Moment, Book 3 Page 11

  Jess rolled her head sideways to look at him. His eyes were closed, his breath coming hard.

  She grinned. She had done this to him.

  “You should sleep,” he said, still trying to catch his breath. “I’ve got big plans for you when it’s my turn.”

  “When it’s your turn.” Jess poked him in the chest. “But it’s mine now.”

  “Is this part of your plan?” He opened his eyes to look at her. “To wear me out so I’m physically incapable of doing anything?”

  “Yes.” Actually that hadn’t been Jess’s plan, but as plans went, it was a damn fine one.

  Van erupted into action. Within seconds she was lying beneath him, his lips only inches from hers.

  “Sorry to tell you this, babe, but I’m a highly tuned health professional. And I know how to wring the last tiny drop of energy out of every muscle in my body.”

  Jess licked suddenly dry lips. Van pushed his hips forward, just in case she’d missed the hardness of his cock digging into her mound.

  “I’m ready.” His nose touched hers. The barest kiss. “Are you?”

  Jess pushed at his shoulders and he let her momentum carry them over until it was him lying on the bottom. Jess straddled his thighs, her eyes gleaming.

  “My turn,” she snapped out.

  Van spread his arms wide. Inviting.

  “Do your worst.”

  * * * * *

  Jess woke the next morning to the smell of bacon and the buzz of her phone being held in front of her face. Only one of those things was something she wanted.

  “Morning, sunshine. Your brother’s calling.”

  Jess lids snapped open and she lunged for the phone. She waited until Van turned away before swiping her thumb to accept the call.

  “Where the hell are you?” Cole’s voice rasped across her eardrums like sandpaper.

  Jess sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “I’m with a…friend.”

  She glanced toward Van, who made no secret of the fact he was listening. Or more to the point, was staring at the fact she was naked with the covers puddled at her waist. Her nipples tightened under his abject scrutiny and Jess pulled the sheet up around her. Any other time she would’ve shaken her breasts and given him a show, but not with Cole on the other end of the line.

  “What about you?” Jess focused her attention back on her call. Cole. Madison. Last night. “How did everything go?”

  “Good.” Cole’s voice softened somewhat.

  “Thank God.” Jess blew out a breath. “I thought you might’ve fucked things up.”

  “No one can resist a bit o’ Cole.” Her arrogant brother was back. Jess heard Madison snort in the background.

  Jess chuckled. “Let me know how that works out for you.”

  “You’ll see how it works out when you tell me where you are.” The humor in Cole’s voice disappeared.

  Jess sighed. “I’m back at the ballroom. I-I left something here.” She ducked her head when Van raised his brow.

  “Shall I pick you up?” Cole asked.

  “No. I’ll come back to the hotel. Give me an hour.”

  Jess ended the call and climbed out of bed, hauling the sheet with her. An hour to race back, pack, get changed, and pretend like nothing had happened.

  No time for awkward goodbyes with Van. Shame.

  “So, what did you leave in the ballroom?”

  Van barred the entrance to the bathroom. He plucked at her make-do pajamas, testing how tightly she was wrapped.

  “Besides my dignity?” Jess grinned and dropped the sheet.

  Van took a moment to find his voice. “Oh, I think that’s still intact,” he said, his eyes struggling to make it higher than her breasts. He swallowed. “You acquitted yourself well.” With an effort he met her stare. “But last night was the easy part.”

  “Yes. Blah, blah. I’m so tough.” Jess didn’t miss a beat. “Bring it.” His threats were a serious turn-on. “Now get out of my way. I have somewhere else to be.”

  “So I don’t get any of this?” He looked downright disappointed when Jess secured the sheet around her once more.

  She tilted her head. “Are you willing to give up your turn?”

  It took a moment for Van to decide he wasn’t. Of course, he insisted on going to the lobby with Jess to wait for her cab. He opened the door for her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

  “You’ll hear from me soon,” he promised.

  The first text arrived a few minutes after she’d driven off. My place. Tuesday @ 8am. Followed by: I can’t wait. And then: Wear comfortable clothing and stop scowling.

  Jess scowled at her screen. She really, really hated being told what to do. And she still hadn’t decided whether she’d go through with the other side of the stupid “deal” she’d made with Van.

  Pros: He was hot. Seriously hot. There were things about him that really spun her dial. Like the fact he’d taken her rock climbing and to be fair, hadn’t instructed her at all. That had surprised Jess.

  Then, there was his single-minded focus when he’d pursued her, turning up at the party, sitting outside her house when Brad and Mike hadn’t been home… It was hard not to be swept up by the attention, especially after a night like last night.

  Cons: Van confused her. Sometimes he treated her with kid gloves. At others he encouraged her to break down boundaries.

  Was he manipulating her? Now Jess was away from Van’s physical presence, her head started to clear and she could see it all unfolding. He was a therapist. He was good at getting his own way. Very. Very. Good.

  As far as Van was concerned, this could just be one big therapy session. From the first time he’d showed up at her party, to his high-handed display in the ballroom. All part of the session.

  Jess gripped her phone so hard it creaked in protest. Her feelings for him were complicated. He tipped her off balance by never being what she expected him to be. Jess would no sooner tar him with one brush than he would do something sweet, or sexy, or sinful and she would be left gasping for breath, wondering who the fuck Van Sheffield was.

  He was dangerous.

  He was controlling.

  For all of her stubbornness, Jess didn’t know if she had the determination to hold him at bay.

  Or if she even wanted to.

  Chapter Nine

  Through a crack in the curtains, Van could just make out a body-shape lying under the bed covers.

  Jessica Langford.

  He tapped on the balcony door. Either she was fast asleep or ignoring him. Van’s mouth tightened. Either way, her ploy wasn’t going to work.

  She was so predictable. It was twenty past eight in the morning and Jess wasn’t where she was supposed to be. If she’d put as much energy into helping herself as she did fighting Van, she’d be unstoppable.

  Instead Jess was self-destructive.

  She’d argue she was happy to be who she was, but Van knew she was deluding herself. Why would she try so hard to climb the wall, tackling the same simple challenge over and over until she got it? Why would she want to wear shoes most people in their right mind would never buy?

  No. Jess was a long way from giving up.

  She just had to get out of her own way long enough to see it.

  Like Van could see it. Jess had one of those indefinable sparks that attracted people to her, drawn to her easy, fun-loving nature. She made him laugh. She offered Van the distraction he needed in his life right now. And an answer to the question circling his future. With his current treatment program coming to an end, he needed Jess’s case study for the next step. The practice he’d worked at prior to his workshop tour was already asking when he’d be back.

  Van didn’t want to go home after this was over, not without a way out.

  He’d left because he didn’t want control of hi
s mother’s life.

  Why didn’t he have the same qualms when it came to Jess?

  He looked back through the curtains where the Jess-sized lump was still lying. Van would happily handle her from breakfast to bedtime. He knew exactly what she needed.

  Him.

  Jess was perfect. He’d recognized straight away she was someone special. And like him, she didn’t want anything permanent. She was too smart for that.

  All Van needed to do was direct the fire inside her toward the right things. He smiled. Sex was one way to handle her—he still bore the scars from the other night, deep scratches from her stilettos in his back, nail marks that ripped across his chest. He was proud to wear them. That was the kind of passion Van loved. It was the kind of passion he wanted to taste again and again.

  Desire slid like hot oil to his crotch, tightening his cock. He took a deep breath. Then another. Work first. Fun later.

  “Jess,” Van called out and knocked on the door. Harder this time.

  Through the gap he saw Jess stirring. Slowly at first, then her head turned.

  “What the fuck!” She saw him and jumped out of bed like her panties were on fire.

  Van grinned at her muffled exclamation. She looked like a wild cat, coiled low, ready to pounce, except for her hair sticking out in every direction.

  “Morning.” He waggled his fingers as the curtains were yanked apart.

  She opened the door, staring at him as if she didn’t understand why he was there.

  “How the hell do you know where I live?”

  Van gave her a look. “You don’t seriously think I’d let you run away from my place on your own in the middle of the night, do you?”

  Jess’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “You…so ever since I…”

  “Go apoplectic on your own time,” he countered. “You’ve already wasted enough of mine.”

  “I haven’t even decided if I want to do this,” she spluttered.

  “Oh no, you don’t. You agreed to this the night of the ball. We had a deal.” Van hadn’t considered she might try to wriggle out of it, though knowing Jess, he should have.

  “So, the night of the ball was you suffering for the good of my knee.” Jess raised a brow that matched the jut of her jaw. “You got no pleasure from it?”

  “You know that’s not true.” He couldn’t help but step closer. Talking about what they’d done that night only made him want to do it again. God, her scent alone made him want to shed her clothes and bury his face in her nakedness. “I’d love to prove that to you, but that’s your end of the bargain. Mine is to whip you into shape.” He drew a deep breath, holding in the aroma of sun-warmed apples. Sweet, but oh so tart when you bit into them.

  “And what if I don’t want you to?” Her comeback lacked the necessary spark of fire and Van didn’t think Jess was totally unaffected either. Her tone had dropped, her voice a soft, sexy rasp.

  “You will.” Van turned her around and gave a gentle push toward the bathroom. “Let me introduce you to my new program. Consider it boot camp with benefits.”

  It was hard to generate the level of loathing required to fight Van when he stood in her door, looking all eager and sexy. She’d been half asleep and emerging from a dream when she’d seen him. Dream became reality and all Jess wanted was to anchor her mouth to his and have his hands roving to all sorts of forbidden places on her body…

  Jess grabbed her clothes and shut herself in the bathroom before she gave in and acted on her fantasies. Dark, sinful fantasies that involved a naughty, naked Van.

  It would serve him right if she locked herself in the bathroom and refused to come out. Except Jess had a feeling he would calmly and methodically dismantle the door and not stop until he had what he wanted. Her.

  The workout she could do without, but when it came to the other side of her bargain with Van, Jess wanted the same thing he did. It was this thought that made her get dressed and walk back out.

  He was waiting by the window. Her bed was made and her sleepwear neatly folded at the foot of the bed.

  “I see the little cleaning fairy has been hard at work?” Jess’s mouth quirked.

  Van shrugged. “I want you to conserve energy. You’re going to need it.”

  She threw him a dirty look and his grin got wider.

  Jess kept hold of her sour expression, his good humor grinding like sand between her toes. She had to go out through the apartment to get her bag. No way was Jess putting herself in a position where she was without her wallet again.

  Of course, Cole was in the living room. He looked up from his laptop, his welcoming smile fading when he saw Jess had a man in tow.

  “Who’s this?” He half rose from his chair.

  “Van Sheffield. He’s a therapist.” Jess didn’t realize she was shielding Van until he stepped out from behind her.

  “Vance Sheffield?” Cole sat back, his expression clearing. “I didn’t know you’d signed up to his program.”

  “Neither did I.” Jess scowled at her brother. As soon as he’d realized who Van was, Cole had switched from wrathful over-protector to therapy pimp. Van could have laid her out on the table and shagged her silly and Cole wouldn’t have said a thing.

  Her jaw tightened and she made for the front door before she said something she might regret. Like exactly what kind of treatment Van was giving her. Boot camp with benefits, wasn’t that what he’d called it?

  “What about breakfast?” Van called a halt to her leaving and pointed toward the kitchen.

  Jess swore under her breath. “I’ll get something on the way,” she said out loud, resuming her escape. Van could stay and make nice with her brother if he wanted, but Jess needed the day to be over. To pay her debt.

  Van caught up before she reached the top of the landing. “You didn’t tell him about us?”

  “Tell him what?” Jess started down the stairs. If she stopped, she’d have to hit something. “We have an arrangement. He’s happy. You’re happy. What else is there to say?”

  Van gave her a funny look. “Nothing, I guess.”

  He exerted his authority and made Jess stop for breakfast on the way to his place. But he didn’t get to pick what she had. She bought a cream-filled chocolate donut, a carton of strawberry milk and a pack of gum, eating with great gusto as he led her back to the apartment. He showed her to the spare room where an examination table was set up. As well as a desk, two chairs, and a shelf full of skeletal examples of knee joints, hands, and vertebrae.

  “Why don’t you jump up and I’ll start by looking over your knee,” he invited.

  “I thought you weren’t my therapist,” Jess grumbled. “This feels an awful lot like a paid session.”

  “It isn’t. But, as a friend, I’d be stupid to try anything without using my therapist skills to ensure what we’re doing won’t hurt you. So, stop prevaricating.” He patted the table. “Hop on up here.”

  Jess drew off her shoes and stretched out on her back. The padding was thin and uncomfortable. She lay back on the pillow, trying to relax, hating every minute of it. Clinical examinations categorized her into a series of joints and muscles and ligaments. She knew what was coming, the comments on her wasted muscles, which tendons weren’t working right—she got it. She was broken. Jess didn’t need to hear it one more time.

  Van finished washing his hands and she closed her eyes. He cupped the calf of her injured leg, sending shivers across her skin. Jess clenched her jaw shut, not sure if it felt good, bad or indifferent. She tried not to flinch as he followed the line of her ligament.

  His fingers stilled. “This isn’t working, is it?”

  “Sorry.” Jess looked up. “I suffer from an allergic reaction to therapists.” She widened her eyes. “You’re lucky. Usually I come out in hives.”

  Van’s mouth twitched. “Let’s try something else.”
He held out his hand to help her up.

  Jess gladly let him. Anything was better than suffering through yet another meaningless examination. And she was curious. She followed him as he took her back out of the apartment, walked a block down the street, and stopped outside a two-story building wedged between a bicycle store and a tattoo parlor.

  She eyed the sign dubiously. “We’re going in there?”

  “My apartment belongs to the clinic. The lease comes with free membership to the gym here.” He ushered her inside.

  “A sparring gym?”

  “Yes.”

  Van led her into a small locker room. He opened the end door and pulled out two pads. Thickly padded, they were about the size of Jess’s head. He rummaged again and came up with some gloves.

  “Here, put these on or you’ll hurt your hands.” He threw them at her.

  They were thin and black with a small cushioned area around the knuckles. Jess pulled them on and Van came over to help her, doing up the Velcro tabs so they were nice and tight. His breath ruffled her hair. Jess’s heart was already pounding and his closeness did nothing to slow it down.

  She wanted to lean in close and nuzzle at his neck, fill her lungs with his heady male scent. Jess licked at her top lip, imaging the flavor of him bursting on her taste buds. It was a relief when Van finally pulled back. She sucked in a breath of fresh air as he put his hands through the loops at the backs of the pads.

  “Usually we just access the weight room,” he explained as he led her to a wide matted area. “But I think you might enjoy this.” Van held the pads up so they were level with his chest. “You’re so full of anger. You wear it like a shield. It tightens your muscles and you’re not allowing them to move freely. So, come on. Give it your best shot.”

  Jess let out a bark of laughter. “What? Hit you?”

  “Well, I’d prefer you hit the pads.” Van smirked. “But yes, that’s the general idea.”

  Jess shook her head. Then gave the pads a halfhearted bat. She felt silly. This had nothing at all to do with her knee.