where she went wrong with the last one before she contemplated even dating again.
Dating. Just the thought of it sent a spear of dread through her. She’d never really dated, and wasn’t looking forward to starting to do it now. She rummaged through the dresser she’d stashed her clothes in, grabbed a few things, and took a deep breath before facing him once again. She didn’t look at him, though—she wasn’t a coward, but she wasn’t that courageous either. “I’ll just get dressed, and if you could find a tape measure, I’ll get those room dimensions written down for Jaime.” She waited until she heard his footsteps retreating, and hesitated a moment longer before softly closing her door with a click.
*
Jax waited until he heard the snick of Kendall’s door down the hall before he sat on his plaster-strewn bed, held his head in his hands, and groaned. The woman was a menace to the entire celibate male population.
Celibacy was not his natural state—well, at least not until the accident. It hadn’t bothered him before, but having Kendall here for the past week was definitely making his monklike status a real trial.
He reminded himself that celibacy was his choice, after all—he had the phone numbers of several of the nurses he’d met at the hospital stuffed into his wallet to prove it. Hell, they’d even offered to drive, since theyknew he wouldn’t be cleared to handle heavy machinery until after his next MRI. It wasn’t as if he could call them—at least not without help—and the last thing he wanted to do was have Jaime or, God forbid, Kendall dial the phone for what he knew would be nothing more than a booty call. He didn’t know what he wanted, but dinner and a game of mattress tag wasn’t it.
Jax was far from a saint, but even he had a moral compass. He’d never had sex with one woman when he was jonesing for another, and he’d never imagined being with anyone other than the woman he was with at the time. He’d spent the past week considering it but couldn’t talk himself into being with someone when the only woman he wanted was Kendall, which left him in his current predicament: waking up from erotic dreams of her, hard and hot and breathing heavy.
He scrubbed his hands over the rough stubble of his face. It was too bad he couldn’t control his subconscious as well as he could his conscious mind. Sitting there with the ceiling falling down around his head and Kendall’s scent still wafting over the musty aromas of dust and wet plaster, he wondered if he truly had control of either.
The feel of Kendall’s body tight against his was indelibly imprinted on his psyche. For a brief moment during their conversation, it had been all he could do not to wrap his arms around her and pull her to him. Face-to-face. Breasts to chest. Mouth to mouth. For a brief moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to kiss her, to take her mouth, to taste her and lose himself in Kendall. Then he allowed his imagination to go well beyond a kiss, straight to the animalistic urge to possess her, to make love to her in every way humanly possible, and then keep her close and protect her. For a briefmoment, he wanted to know her in a way more intimate than he’d ever known any other: mind, body, and soul. He’d never had the urge to take care of anyone before—not in any way except sexually. It wasn’t as if the thought of sex with Kendall wasn’t blinking like a huge, flashing fluorescent neon light in the forefront of his mind, but what he felt for Kendall was so much more complicated, so much stronger, and a great deal more confusing than anything he’d felt for a woman before. He was trapped right in the middle of dangerous territory, but no matter how many times he told himself not to go there, he couldn’t stop himself from doing just that.
Another piece of plaster fell from the ceiling and landed next to him on the bed. He tried to focus on it, but all he saw was Kendall in that sinfully
Dating. Just the thought of it sent a spear of dread through her. She’d never really dated, and wasn’t looking forward to starting to do it now. She rummaged through the dresser she’d stashed her clothes in, grabbed a few things, and took a deep breath before facing him once again. She didn’t look at him, though—she wasn’t a coward, but she wasn’t that courageous either. “I’ll just get dressed, and if you could find a tape measure, I’ll get those room dimensions written down for Jaime.” She waited until she heard his footsteps retreating, and hesitated a moment longer before softly closing her door with a click.
*
Jax waited until he heard the snick of Kendall’s door down the hall before he sat on his plaster-strewn bed, held his head in his hands, and groaned. The woman was a menace to the entire celibate male population.
Celibacy was not his natural state—well, at least not until the accident. It hadn’t bothered him before, but having Kendall here for the past week was definitely making his monklike status a real trial.
He reminded himself that celibacy was his choice, after all—he had the phone numbers of several of the nurses he’d met at the hospital stuffed into his wallet to prove it. Hell, they’d even offered to drive, since theyknew he wouldn’t be cleared to handle heavy machinery until after his next MRI. It wasn’t as if he could call them—at least not without help—and the last thing he wanted to do was have Jaime or, God forbid, Kendall dial the phone for what he knew would be nothing more than a booty call. He didn’t know what he wanted, but dinner and a game of mattress tag wasn’t it.
Jax was far from a saint, but even he had a moral compass. He’d never had sex with one woman when he was jonesing for another, and he’d never imagined being with anyone other than the woman he was with at the time. He’d spent the past week considering it but couldn’t talk himself into being with someone when the only woman he wanted was Kendall, which left him in his current predicament: waking up from erotic dreams of her, hard and hot and breathing heavy.
He scrubbed his hands over the rough stubble of his face. It was too bad he couldn’t control his subconscious as well as he could his conscious mind. Sitting there with the ceiling falling down around his head and Kendall’s scent still wafting over the musty aromas of dust and wet plaster, he wondered if he truly had control of either.
The feel of Kendall’s body tight against his was indelibly imprinted on his psyche. For a brief moment during their conversation, it had been all he could do not to wrap his arms around her and pull her to him. Face-to-face. Breasts to chest. Mouth to mouth. For a brief moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to kiss her, to take her mouth, to taste her and lose himself in Kendall. Then he allowed his imagination to go well beyond a kiss, straight to the animalistic urge to possess her, to make love to her in every way humanly possible, and then keep her close and protect her. For a briefmoment, he wanted to know her in a way more intimate than he’d ever known any other: mind, body, and soul. He’d never had the urge to take care of anyone before—not in any way except sexually. It wasn’t as if the thought of sex with Kendall wasn’t blinking like a huge, flashing fluorescent neon light in the forefront of his mind, but what he felt for Kendall was so much more complicated, so much stronger, and a great deal more confusing than anything he’d felt for a woman before. He was trapped right in the middle of dangerous territory, but no matter how many times he told himself not to go there, he couldn’t stop himself from doing just that.
Another piece of plaster fell from the ceiling and landed next to him on the bed. He tried to focus on it, but all he saw was Kendall in that sinfully
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