Jennifer could feel herself unraveling inside, wrestling with the heaviness in her chest, the thickness in her throat. Until an explosion of emotion burst from her, adrenaline sending her into action. Jennifer pushed out of his arms—or tried. Bobby held her too closely, the intimacy of seconds before now ringing more like captivity.
“Jennifer—”
“Let me up, Bobby!”
“Jen—”
“Let. Me. Up!”
He did. He let her go and Jennifer bolted. She whirled around on her knees, oblivious to her nakedness. She opened her mouth to speak and found she couldn’t. Not without crying. He’d never really given himself to her. He’d been looking for a reason to run and found it in his father.
“There hasn’t been a day—” he started.
“…you haven’t regretted leaving,” she finished for him, going cold inside. She’d spent seven years hurting over this man. Seven years hoping for a reason that would make sense besides that he needed an excuse out. “We just slept together, Bobby. The last time I checked, orgasm doesn’t require conversation.” She gave him a disdainful look. “But right now, I need to get back to Marcie. I’m in charge of the party.”
She scrambled toward the edge of the bed and just barely escaped as he reached for her. “So that’s it?” he challenged. “I’m letting it all hang out here, Jennifer, and you’re blowing me off?”
“Isn’t that what you did to me for seven years?” she asked, giving him her back. He didn’t respond, but he would. The air was thick, the tension crackling. But he was dressing, too; he was preparing to head her off before she departed. A confrontation was coming, and it wasn’t going to be all joy and bliss like being naked in that bed had been.
Struggling with her last boot, not about to risk the vulnerability of sitting on the bed where he might end up on top of her again—and Lord help her, she might just decide to rip her clothes off again, in the name of “she deserved every damn bit of pleasure he could give her”—Jennifer lost her balance. Bobby reached for her.
“Don’t!” she bit out, righting herself. “Don’t touch me, Bobby.” She glared at him, looking at him directly for the first time since she started dressing.
Before she knew what happened, he was there, pulling her hard against his body, powerful arms wrapping around her, his long legs entwining with hers. “I’m going to touch you, Jen. And kiss you and make love to you. I’m not asking permission either. I have less than two weeks to prove to you how much you mean to me, and I fully intend to succeed.”
Defiance rose inside her, the need to lash out, to find a way to protect herself. And running kept backfiring. “Of course you will,” she said, casting him a look from beneath her lashes, playing coy, her anger banked. “That’s why it’s called a fling. You please me. I please you. And then it’s over, and life goes on.”
His jaw set, his expression taut. His hands framed her face. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”
She could feel herself shaking inside with the challenge, but she tilted her chin up, challenged him. “Believe it,” she said softly, her voice edged with a hint of steel she couldn’t quite suppress. “Because, you see, unlike you, I know when to say goodbye. I mean it when I do.”
Suddenly, his lips were a breath from hers. “Then you’ve left me no choice,” he said in a silky promise. “I simply won’t ever let you say goodbye.” His mouth slanted over hers, a quick caress of his tongue against hers. “Now. Let’s go check on Mark and Marcie—together.”
Bobby grabbed her hand and led her to the door, giving her no time to object. Her mind was still reeling as they entered the hallway only to find Marcie giggling and hiccupping.
Bobby and Jennifer exchanged a look, and Bobby quickly reacted. “I’ll help her,” he said, scooping Marcie into his arms and carrying her toward her room.
“Bobby,” Marcie groaned. “Where’s Jennifer?”
“I’m here,” Jennifer said, rushing through the door of the bedroom that Marcie and Mark shared, and pulling back the forest-green comforter on the bed. Bobby settled her onto the bed, and Jennifer tugged off her shoes.
Sally entered the room. “Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine,” Jennifer answered. “But where is Mark? Why didn’t he carry her up?”
“Mark was playing dice with Scott. He said he needed his bride and his best man to jump out of some plane with him if he was going to be properly married.” She frowned. “I’m in the wedding, and I don’t remember anything about a plane.”
“No,” Bobby said dryly. “Not you.”
“Well, not the best man either because Scott said he’d rather streak naked at the twenty-four-hour grocery store than jump out of some damn plane.”