Sleeping With The Enemy

“I asked where you were from,” he said.

She pushed her fork through her rice. She’d learned to mix the truth with the lies, but she’d always told the same story. She no longer had a family. At least none she could openly discuss. As far as anyone knew, she was Dee Romine, the only living surviving child of the late David and Ellen Romine. Her decision on exactly what to say when asked by anyone was based in fact, for the most part. Never the superstitious type, she still wouldn’t dare to tweak fate’s nose by saying that her brother had died as well, afraid if she did, she might be predisposing Jared’s fate. The lies weren’t something she cared for, so she simply never mentioned her brother.

“Washington state,” she said after a moment.

He reached for his wineglass. “That’s a long way from family.”

“I don’t have family.” The practiced lie slipped easily from her lips. Too easily. “What about you?” she asked, bringing the conversation back to him. “The Carolina coastline isn’t exactly a good stretch of the legs from Ohio, you know.”

He lifted the wineglass to his lips and drank slowly. “My folks are both retired,” he finally said, almost as if he was deciding how much to tell her, which was silly. She just had a guilty conscience is all.

He took another sip of wine before setting his glass aside. “My old man taught history and government at the local high school, and mom was the Home Ec teacher.”

“Is that why you went into teaching? Following in your parents’ footsteps?”

“Something like that I guess. Speaking of teaching, Johnson said I should contact you.”

She stopped with her fork poised in midair. “Principal Johnson? Contact me? Why?”

He pushed his near empty plate aside and rested his tanned forearms on the counter. “He’s punishing the coaching staff, and I got caught in the middle of the battle between him and the head coach,” he said with a wry grin. “I guess it could be worse, but I doubt it. I’ve been assigned one of those half-semester senior-seminar classes.”

“Let me guess. He’s taking it out on the coaches because he’d rather put money into academia than the sports programs right?”

“That about sums it up.”

“It’s been a long-standing battle around these parts,” she told him. “Don’t take it personally.” She polished off the last of her halibut before asking, “But what does it have to do with me?”

He let out a sigh and reached again for his wineglass. “Senior Sex.”

He had to be kidding. She’d assisted Ellen Billings with the curriculum when the older woman had been assigned the class two years ago. Dee had gone to speak to the students about the varying types of birth control available, stressing abstinence was the most acceptable form. Teens being teens, no matter what she told them, she knew peer pressure would often lead to sexual experimentation regardless of the dangers to their emotional and physical health. At least after her presentation the students were more than prepared, and had gone away with more than just a basic understanding of the concept of safe sex.

She set her fork on the plate. “You’re joking, right?” she asked, hopeful that he was in fact teasing her. The thought of showing the senior class the appropriate method of applying a condom, in front of the one man who’d managed to awaken her libido wasn’t exactly the most appealing.

“No joke, Doc,” he said, his voice tinged with humor. “So would you be willing to show the class how to put a condom on a banana?”

She reached for her glass, pausing before taking a long and much needed drink. “I use a cucumber actually,” she quipped. “It’s easier for the students. Contrasting colors and all that.”

He chuckled, the sound a low, sexy rumble. “Isn’t that just a little ambitious?”

“You were a teenage boy once. Wouldn’t you rather the girls saw you as a cucumber than a banana?”

His spontaneous burst of laughter brought a smile to her lips. It was no use, she suddenly realized. Fighting the sexual awareness buzzing between them was an effort in futility. Unless of course she was willing to pack up and move tomorrow to either Boston or New York, which she wasn’t. Besides, she knew he felt it as well. It was there, in his smile, in the sound of his laughter, but mostly in his eyes, a deeper shade of violet now and twice as intense when he looked at her.

“I didn’t realize cucumbers were more…anatomically correct.”

Her responding laughter was a tad too close to a nervous twitter. She set her glass aside. “Why are we having this conversation?”

He shrugged. “You started it, Doc.”

No, she didn’t. He did. “Let’s change the subject,” she suggested.

“Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?”

“That you’d want to change the subject. I had the impression you wouldn’t mind discussing…anatomy.”

She stood and started clearing the bar with trembling fingers. “You take a lot for granted, Coach.” What did he expect her to do? Roll over on her back and yell, Take me now, stud?

“Chase.”

She turned to find him standing less than two feet away from her. That made her even more nervous since he blocked her only hope for an exit. “You take a lot for granted, Chase.”

He reached for her, but she pulled away before he could touch her, leaning back until the edge of the counter bit into her lower back.

“Do I?” he asked.

Her tactical temporary escape failed. Definitely not a smart move, because he inched closer, then leaned toward her. He planted his hands firmly on the edge of the counter, bracketing her within his strong tanned arms and the muscled wall of his chest. They weren’t even touching, but the charge between them was still powerfully electric.

By some miracle, she remembered to breathe, and all she got for her trouble was an intoxicating mix of freshly showered man and a hint of musk that teased her senses. “I’m not looking to get involved,” she told him, then wet her suddenly drier than dust lips with her tongue. “I was only being, uh, I was being neighborly.”

“Then why so nervous, Doc?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“Why are you so close?”

He lifted one eyebrow and shrugged his wide shoulders. “I dunno. It’d be kinda hard to kiss you from across the room.”

“Kiss me?” The words tangled up in her vocal cords and came out sounding like a husky whisper filled with invitation.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, in that same sexy rumble that had her insides quivering with sweet anticipation.

Before she could tell him he was wasting his time, that she didn’t have the time to get involved, his tongue brushed lightly across her lips.

Before she could think of the words to protest what was going to be the most promising moment of sexual awakening, he swept inside and tasted her deeply.

Before she could even summon her lost common sense and stop his gentle assault on her mouth, she tangled her tongue with his.

Moaning softly, she straightened. Her breasts barely brushed against his chest, but the contact had enough spark for hard peaks to form and rasp enticingly against her sensible cotton sports bra. Unable to resist the honeyed temptation of his mouth moving so provocatively, so seductively over hers, she wreathed her arms around his neck and just enjoyed the thrill racing through her veins.

Before she became completely swept away by the toe-curling kiss, he lifted his head and firmly set her away from him. The grin he gave her was filled with enough arrogance to let her know he hadn’t missed one iota of her body’s response.

“Thanks for the meal, Doc,” he said, then turned and walked away.

Her breath came in short pants as she watched him cross the living room to the front door. How could he just walk away after igniting sparks like that? She might have responded like a feline who’d snuck out the back door and made it into the alley, but he hadn’t exactly been unaffected, either.

“Where are you going?” she asked against her better judgment.

He swung the door open, then stopped in the threshold to look over his shoulder at her. “You’ve got an early day tomorrow. I’ll take you to dinner after your shift.”