Reunited(16)

“I’m not. I swear. I just kissed you, didn’t I?”

She longed to believe him, longed for this to somehow be real, but the image of him and his friends jeering seared into her mind. She swallowed her nausea.

“It’s probably some bet with your jock butthole buddies. See you long it takes you to get the nerd to fall for you, right? Well, it’s not going to happen, Brett. I guarantee it.”

“Hey.” He stood and gripped her elbow. “I don’t kiss anyone I don’t want to kiss, you got that?”

“Shouldn’t you be kissing your girlfriend?”

He smiled a lazy smile. “She’s not here.”

“Ha. And I am, is that it? Any port in a storm?”

“No.” He raked his fingers through his gorgeous black hair. “You’re twisting it all around, damn it.”

“Twisting what around? There’s nothing to twist around, because there’s nothing between us. So go back to your butthole buddies and tell them you got the nerd queen to kiss you. Collect your twenty bucks, or whatever it is you won, and have a big laugh at my expense.”

“Kath, it’s not like that. There’s no bet. I swear.”

“Right. I’m supposed to believe you, the Italian Stallion, wanted to kiss me, Kathryn Zurakowsky, the Pollock, the nerd, the ugly duckling.”

“Who’s turned into a beautiful swan.”

“And what if I hadn’t?”

“If you hadn’t what?”

“Turned into a beautiful swan? Would you want to kiss me then?”

“I don’t know. Would you want to kiss me if I wasn’t good looking?”

Well, he had her there, and that pissed her off. Her blood boiled. “Who said I wanted to kiss you?”

He laughed that time. Damn him.

“For someone who didn’t want to kiss me, you gave a good impression of enjoying it.”

She had enjoyed it. It had been heaven. But she had never kissed before. It would probably be that great with anyone.

“Maybe I’m just a good kisser.”

“Ha. Right. If I had a dollar I’d bet you’d never been kissed before.”

“Get out.” Kathryn pulled him to his feet. “Get out. I’ve had enough of you. You can find yourself another tutor, too. I don’t need to deal with you. Go kiss your girlfriend—remember her? Or kiss some butt-ugly old lady for all I care. Now get out of here before I call the cops!”

His lips came down on hers again.





Chapter Six


“Wow, Kath.” Brett buttoned his pants as Kathryn replaced her bra and blouse. “Wow.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“God, don’t be sorry.”

“Oh, I’m not sorry it happened, Brett. I’m sorry I didn’t have more self-control. I’m acting like a horny teenager.”

“We both were, Kath. We’re acting like the horny teenagers we once were. I meant it when I said it’s never been like that with anyone else. Not the kisses, not the sex. I mean, I just took you quick and hard against the wall, and I felt more than I’ve ever felt during the longest lovemaking session with Michelle.”

A spear entered her heart at the mention of Brett’s wife. Ex-wife. That little prefix made all the difference. He was free to be with her now. And she was free to be with him. Sort of.

He was right about the kisses. An image emerged in her mind, of her and Brett after their first kiss, and her thought that kissing would be the same with anyone. That the kiss with him had been nothing special.

She’d been wrong. So very wrong.

She’d done a lot of kissing in her life. None had equaled those fumbled attempts she’d shared with Brett twenty years ago, and none equaled their passionate embraces now.

Still, she’d had unprotected sex. She trusted that he’d had a vasectomy, so she wasn’t worried about pregnancy. But she hadn’t seen him in twenty years. Who knew who he had been with? Not the smartest move she’d ever made.

“Uh, Brett?” She fumbled with her hair.

“Your hair looks beautiful,” he said, tucking a strand behind her ear. “It’s as soft as I remember.” He grinned. “What?”

“I don’t want to spoil the mood, but…I need to know, you know, that you’re clean.”

“Clean?”

“Yeah. I know I can’t get pregnant, but I don’t want to—”

“Kath,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. His gaze burned. “I swear to you, I’m clean. I’ve only been with two women in my life and you’re one of them.”

Her eyes widened. Truly? The Italian Stallion had never been with another woman?

“I should probably be more concerned about you,” he said, “but I’m not.”

“Oh?” The insult rankled her. “You don’t think I’ve been with anyone but you and my husband?”

“No, I’m absolutely sure you have.”

“Yeah, I have. Plenty, if you want to know.” But not a one who had mattered. “So why aren’t you more concerned?”

“Because I know you. If there was any issue, you wouldn’t have made love to me. You wouldn’t have put me in danger.”