Then he rolled the other way and reached out with a long arm to grab his jeans. I was staring at the contours of his back, the sleek skin, the defined muscles, thinking that wasn’t for me. It wasn’t for me. None of it.
I knew it.
I’d always known it.
From the instant for months ago when his silver eyes hit me, travelled the length of my torso, all he could see of me behind the display cabinet, and when his eyes again hit mine, he’d smiled sexy, lazy and slow, I knew it.
He wasn’t for me.
There was no dream man for me.
But he was so beautiful, I went for it anyway.
“Yeah?” he asked into the phone and then I felt his mood hit the room and it grated against my skin like sandpaper.
In the four months we’d been together, Jake did not hide his moods. Ever. Not even in the beginning. And Jake had a lot of moods. If he was pissed, you knew he was pissed. If he was happy, you definitely knew he was happy. If he was feeling playful, annoyed, frustrated, amused, distracted, content, whatever, you knew it, you sensed it; it was like he controlled the atmosphere of the room.
And whoever was on the other end of that phone was pissing him off and frustrating him.
“Give me an hour,” he said into the phone, paused then went on, “No, man, I’m tellin’
you, I need an hour.” Another pause then, “Fuck, you’ve got to be f**kin’ shitting me.” Pause then, “This can’t happen now.” A very short pause then, “I’m tellin’ you, this cannot f**kin’
happen f**kin’ now. ” He shifted his powerful body to sit on the edge of my bed, back bowed, elbows to knees, phone to ear and he growled low, “All right, motherfucker, but you f**k this up, you f**k her over, mark this, you answer to me.”
Then he flipped his phone shut and bent forward to grab his jeans.
Then he announced to the other side of the room, “Babe, gotta go.”
I closed my eyes.
Okay. Okay.
When Jake got into a mood, you knew his mood. And when Jake had to go, Jake went.
This was nothing unusual.
Okay, so, we’d been seeing each other for four months and this was the first time we made love.
Sure, that seemed weird, considering he was all man, a wild man but he was always gentle with me, very gentle and it was like he sensed I needed that, I needed him to take it slow. And I did need that, boy did I need that. So I didn’t think anything of it.
And sure, we’d made out; we’d fooled around, a lot. A lot, a lot and it was good. The best.
And he’d made me come with his hand though he’d never let me touch him that way saying he liked to watch and the first time I made him come, he wanted to be inside me. Just him telling me that nearly made me come. But he’d never come inside, in fact, I’d never been na**d with him, not even close, until now.
So, any girl would expect, after all that time with a wild man unlike any man she’d ever been with, a wild man who tamed that beast in order to be gentle with her, that he’d hang around after the big event.
But not Jake.
I knew that about him.
But this was something different.
I knew that too.
“Tess,” he called, his deep voice gentle and my eyes opened.
He was somewhat fuzzy, I didn’t have my glasses on but I knew he was still unbelievably gorgeous. The sight of him was burned on my brain in a way I knew I’d never forget.