The Temporary Wife - By Jeannie Moon Page 0,50

he made his way through the house, Moe Kitty rubbed against his legs to say hello. Molly’s jacket and backpack along with Meg’s tote bag were by the breezeway entrance, ready for school the next day. Little signs of life in the house. Little signs he wasn’t alone.

He stopped at the kitchen doorway and literally lost his breath. All of his air—gone.

Meg was at the counter, pouring herself a glass of milk. Jason wasn’t the type to wax poetic, but it was like looking at an angel. She wore a long, white, gauzy nightgown that floated around her body. It wasn’t anything anyone would call sexy, but on her, with the tiny white flowers and the touches of lace, it was positively erotic. There were slits on the sides, just to her knees, that allowed him a glimpse of her shapely legs, the short fluttery sleeves accented her slender arms, and the neckline scooped down to her breasts. The entire thing buttoned all the way down the front, and all Jason wanted to do was open those buttons one at a time and worship her.

She moved, and as the light fell behind her, her whole body was silhouetted. Jason could see the soft curving outlines of her bottom, her breasts, and he remembered what it felt like to have her under him, to be inside her.

Down her back, a braid fell almost to her waist, but wisps of hair escaped around her beautiful face, framing it with gold. Jason couldn’t stand it anymore. He moved from the doorway, and that’s when Meg noticed him, gasping a little in surprise and then being caught totally off guard when he came to her, cupped her face with his hands, and kissed her.

The kiss was desperation, pure and simple. He had to be close to her, had to taste her, and Meg responded, breathing out and giving him her sweet angel’s breath. Everything about her said home. The warmth of her body, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla that seemed to circle around her, the gentleness that went right to her heart—Jason wanted everything she could give him, and he would have sold his soul to give it back to her.

When he pulled back, her eyes had drifted closed and she sighed, making Jason smile because he loved watching her like this, loved seeing the sweetness and pleasure on her face. His thumbs ran over her cheeks, and when Meg’s lids fluttered open, he saw raw emotion flood her eyes.

But the happiness was short-lived. She shook her head and stepped away from him.

“What?”

“No.”

“Meg—”

“No, Jason. I’m not doing this again. I’m not.”

She walked away and stopped just before leaving the room. “By the way, Harper called right after you left.”

Shit. “Harper?”

“Yes, she thought you were picking her up for the fund-raiser, but said she’d get a ride with Nate or Owen.”

“I can explain—”

She put up her hand in a halting motion. “You don’t have to explain anything, Jason. I understand perfectly. Good night.”

He folded his arms on the cold granite countertop and watched her leave the room, wondering how much more he could fuck this up.

***

Meg checked on Molly and then went to her room and sat on the window seat that allowed her to gaze into the backyard. It was strategically lit, and the gardens were still filled with mums of every fall color. It was acres of land, most of it wooded, and she did love the quiet here. It gave her time to think, which she had way too much time to do lately.

In that moment, Meg rubbed her arms, still feeling Jason’s touch and that kiss. Oh, my God, that kiss. Where had it come from? After weeks of nothing, he came at her like a man possessed, and when he kissed her she damn near drowned in it.

It was exactly what she’d always wanted from him, that desire he couldn’t control, passion that threatened to take them both down. The kiss was different.

It was almost like he loved her.

And that was a lie she couldn’t afford to tell herself any longer.

Meg left the window seat and climbed into her bed, turning off the light and burrowing under the covers. She knew she was going to dream about him; she always did.

And she hated it.

Chapter 12

Parent-teacher conferences were not the worst thing Meg had to do, but certainly they weren’t the best. Especially when she had a few parents who thought their children were reincarnations of Albert Einstein. It wasn’t