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Authors: Linda Francis Lee

Tags: #Women television journalists, #Man-woman relationships, #Single women, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Adult, #Fiction, #Athletes, #Texas, #Love stories

Suddenly Sexy (20 page)

BOOK: Suddenly Sexy
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But when he pulled her up, her eyes glittered.
"I want this, Jesse," she said, hardly seeming like Kate at all.
Their eyes locked.
"Let me in," she added, her voice nearly cracking with emotion. "Let me
inside those walls you keep around yourself."
She broke his grip, circled his cock with her palm, then slowly,
divinely, lowered her head once again.
With that there was no turning back. His body overrode better sense.
Conceding a bacchanalian defeat,
he felt his legs spread wider. His hand fisted in her hair as his body
shivered—making him lose control.
And he did. Lose the reins of that tightly held control. His body
peaked as she took him deep one last time, and it happened. He
shuddered with his release at the exact moment he ripped her away. He
pulled her up to him, clutching her to his chest, his seed spilling
over her body, his dick pulsing, throbbing, until he felt like he
couldn't breathe.
It was then that he felt the wonder in her as she clung to him, and he
felt as well his throat tighten and
his eyes burn. When his heart
finally settled back, he tipped up her chin. She was smiling. She was
happy. Then she moved away and kissed him on the forehead, planting her
hands on his thighs,
bringing them face-to-face.
"I love you, Jesse Chapman. I've loved you my whole life. But this is a
different love. A mature love that has nothing to do with bandaged
knees and rescuing. And I'm not going to let you lock me out anymore."
Then she pulled on her clothes and left him sitting there wanting to
reach out, but refusing to do so. His age-old need to maintain distance
was still there, but it fought with the very real need and desire to
pull Kate close. More than that, could he afford her love? He didn't
know. He only knew for certain that he didn't deserve it.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Julia Boudreaux
     Chloe Sinclair

From: Katherine Bloom

Subject: Beautiful Sunday
Good
morning, my lovely friends! I
hope everyone is having a very nice
weekend!
xo, Kate
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Katherine Bloom
     Chloe Sinclair
From: Julia Boudreaux

Subject:!!!!
Why are you
using so many
exclamation marks? Don't you realize how
obnoxiously cheerful they are? And this from a woman who mere days ago
was lamenting her situation regarding some sort
of sexual act or
non-act. Hmmm, sounds suspicious to me.
J
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Julia Boudreaux
      Katherine Bloom

From: Chloe Sinclair

Subject: Very suspicious
And did you
notice we even got an
xo, too?
Chloe

 

Chloe Sinclair
Station Manager
Award-winning KTEXTV
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Chloe Sinclair
      Katherine Bloom

From: Julia Boudreaux

Subject: Allergies
I would
guess she'd had sex if,
one, it hadn't already been a
farfetched guess the first time I made
it, because two, Kate and sex
have become allergic to each other. At the rate she is going, she will
forget how to do it. In fact, isn't there some new trend out there
regarding revirgination? Kate certainly would apply.
xo, j
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Julia Boudreaux
     Chloe Sinclair

From: Katherine Bloom

Subject: Wonderful news
Hold onto
your hats, ladies. I
think things between Jesse and me are
going to work out. Things
are changing between us... and of course
there is the whole issue of how well he is dealing with being a father.
K
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Chloe Sinclair
From: Julia Boudreaux

Subject: Oh dear
Kate
believing things can work out
with Jesse can't be good.
xo, j
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Julia Boudreaux
From: Chloe Sinclair

Subject: You're surprised?
Excuse me,
but HELLO!! I hold you
responsible for this, Jules. If it
hadn't been for you forcing Jesse to stay in the guest cottage, none of
this ever would have happened. She's never fallen out
of love with him,
and you know it. Regardless, don't rain on her parade. I haven't heard
her this happy in weeks. Give it some time and hopefully it will work
itself out. If not, we'll figure out a
way to make things better.
Chloe
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Katherine Bloom
      Chloe Sinclair
From: Julia Boudreaux

Subject: My fault
I kick
myself. As Chloe said to
me, this is all my fault. I never
should have told Jesse he could
stay with you. But you know we love
you, sugar, and you know we are only thinking of what is best for you.
So when I say be careful, you know it's only with the best intentions.
He is Jesse Chapman, after all—the man as famous for leaving women as
he is for his good looks and golf swing. I don't want to see you get
hurt, which is exactly what I'm afraid is going to happen here. Because
Jesse will leave.
Your friend, jules
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To: Julia Boudreaux
From: Chloe Sinclair

Subject: Excuse me?
And that's
not raining on her
parade how?????
Chloe
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

SEVENTEEN
"
Jesse will leave
."
Kate tried to ignore Julia's e-mail. Julia didn't know how things had
changed, didn't know Jesse as well
as she did. But when he walked into
the kitchen the next morning and merely looked at her, his expression
dark, Kate felt a bead of doubt form.
Fortunately, the doubt evaporated the minute he closed the distance
between them and pulled her close. He kissed her forehead, the tip of
her nose, then her lips—a long, lingering kiss that made her knees go
weak.
But when he pulled back, he didn't say a word about last night.
Unfortunately, Travis bounded in behind him right then, giving Jesse no
chance to say anything else. Though he would have. Surely.
"Hey, Jesse. Hey, Kate," the boy said happily.
"Morning, T," Jesse said, smiling broadly. "Are you ready to play golf?"
Travis grimaced. "Oh, yeah, I forgot."
"Come on. It'll be fun," Jesse assured him.
Jesse turned back to Kate and raised a brow. "Why aren't you dressed?
We have a tee time in forty-five minutes."
Golf. Oh, dear. The last thing she wanted to do was get out on the
course for eighteen holes. She hadn't played in years.
"Sorry, really, but I don't have golf clubs, and I know the country
club doesn't rent them, so I can't play. How about I go to the store
and make a big dinner for you and Travis when you're done?"
Jesse chuckled. "No way." He left, returning a few minutes later with a
practically new, top of the line
set in tow.
"They're your sister's," he explained.
"Oh, wonderful," she managed. "And I appreciate it, really. But the
truth is, it's a beautiful day and I
have tons I need to get done
before the week starts."
He ignored her comment and shoved a pile of clothes into her arms. "I
got these from Suzanne as well just in case you try to use the 'I don't
have anything to wear' excuse."
She silently conceded that it had been next on her list.
Thirty minutes later, she stood outside the El Paso Country Club pro
shop. Travis and Jesse stood next
to her, Jesse amused, Travis about as
happy about this round of golf as she was.
"Neat clothes," the boy offered.
Neat hardly began to describe the horror that she wore. A short red
skirt that was dotted with golf balls sitting perfectly atop a colorful
array of tees. Her requisite collared shirt was sleeveless and tucked
into
the skirt, with one big ball over her right breast. If she'd had a
single other comfortable sports shirt with
a collar she would have worn it. She felt like a cross between a
cheerleader and a
fool.
"Thank you, Travis."
Jesse, on the other hand, and unfairly in her opinion, didn't have
multicolored golf paraphernalia dotting his clothes. He wore a
gray-blue golf shirt tucked into form-fitting navy pants, and easily
could be mistaken for a cover model.
Her gaze met Jesse's. His dark eyes were penetrating as he studied her,
as if trying to understand something.
"What?" she demanded.
He only studied her a moment longer, then glanced at his watch. "We're
up."
Before they could get in their golf carts, Lena Lehman ran up to them,
adorned in miniature golf clothes of her own and sporting bouncing
pigtails. "Hey, Travis!"
Travis was visibly surprised and pleased, though he glanced around a
little nervously.
"You wanna play with us?" the girl asked. "Ned Greenley didn't show,
and we're having a putting tournament over on the green. I know you're
really great at putting."
"Ah," he stammered. "Well, I'm playing with my dad."
"But it will be soooo much fun. Please!"
Travis glanced back and forth between Jesse and Lena, his face wrinkled
with indecision.
"Do you want to play with the other kids?" Jesse asked kindly.
"Not if you don't want me to," he answered.
Jesse kneeled down until they came eye to eye. "I want you to be
happy," he said softly. "I want you
to have fun."
"It'll be great fun!" Lena cheered. "Besides, I need you on my team."
Standing, Jesse turned his attention to the little girl. "How are you
getting home?"
"I'll walk. Travis can walk with me."
Jesse squeezed Travis on the shoulder. "That sounds like fun," Jesse
said. "Go ahead and hang out
with the kids."
Travis didn't look like he knew what to do, but when Lena boldly took
his arm, he followed.
"Are you sure that was the right thing to do?" Kate asked.
"Hanging out with kids his own age seems the best to me."
"I guess you're right."
Which was how she ended up heading for the number one tee box on a
sunny Sunday morning, about
to set out onto the course with no one but
Jesse. Too bad it involved playing golf.
As soon as they were in the cart, he started telling her about what he
had seen at the golf camp the day before. He was tight-jawed and grim
about the other kids picking on Travis. Then he finished up with how
the coach had said the program didn't have enough money to allow him to
deal effectively with so many campers.
"I just wish Travis could be confident enough to be himself," Jesse
said.
"He's twelve."
"That means he can't be confident?"
She shrugged, thinking about the fact that even at twenty-seven she
wrestled with the same issue. One minute confident. The next feeling
like a fish out of water.
He drove the cart with ease, bypassing the men's tee.
He didn't put on the brakes until they reached the bright red women's
markers.
"But what about you?" she asked. Then she sat up straight when it
finally dawned on her that he hadn't brought his clubs.
He shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I hurt my shoulder and didn't
think I should play."
She remembered last night and how he had picked her up out of the
bathtub, then carried her into the bedroom. "That didn't seem to be a
problem about ten hours ago."
A wickedly sly smile curved on his face. "Just hit the ball."
She held up her hand in surrender. "Fine."
She got out of the cart, retrieved the driver, then froze when she
became aware of Jesse sitting behind
her with a very clear view of her
butt and legs.
Raising her chin, she poked her tee in the ground, set her ball on top,
then lined up the club face. She could feel Jesse's eyes on her back—or
butt. She had no choice but to spread her legs to take her stance.
He had the audacity to whistle.
"Letch."
"Prude."
She glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled wickedly. "I hardly
think that applies anymore after
last night."
Though every bit of hot and sassy was no doubt ruined when she felt a
heat wave of embarrassment
flash in her face.
One corner of Jesse's mouth ticked up in amusement. "You've got me
there." He looked back toward the clubhouse. "Unless you want the
foursome behind us to stare at your butt, too, I'd suggest you tee off."
She noticed the four men in the distance gathering clubs into the next
cart. With a squeak, she addressed the ball, swung,
and was too frantic to give it a thought that she might miss. As a
result, she had never
hit the ball so well.
"Wow," she said, impressed, as her shot sailed through the blue sky.
"Not bad," Jesse added.
She strutted over to the cart. Jesse rolled his eyes, then they took
off down the fairway.
"Have you been playing?" he asked.
"Not since high school."
To prove her point, her next shot wasn't nearly as good.
"Stop thinking," he stated.
"That might be easy for you to do, but some of us don't have an on-off
switch in our brains."
"Funny," he grumbled, but at the same time he wished like hell it were
true.
What he'd give to stop thinking—especially about the sense of ease he
felt growing in his chest.
He couldn't believe it. For the first time since he left El Paso
thirteen years ago, he felt what he was beginning to suspect was the
urge to stay.
Preparing for her third shot, Kate placed the club face behind the
ball, her stance widened, and heat
sliced through him. He had the urge
to cup the sweet V between her legs. The thought couldn't be
erased,
and he pushed out of the cart and came up behind her. His fingers
itched to touch her. He
wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her
into the evergreen trees.
Marshaling his thoughts and shoving his hands in his pockets, he said,
"I'd use a seven iron for that shot
if I were you. If you connect, it should put you on the green."
She straightened, then scowled. "But that's the thing. You aren't me.
And I want to use a nine iron." She started to readdress the ball, then
suddenly she whirled back. "Don't you have anything to say to me?"
He made a production of looking confused. "A nine iron will leave you
short?"
"Noooo. Something else you want to say to me."
He knew she was talking about last night. When he had said that they
would make love, he had half wondered if taking her to bed would once
and for all get her out of his mind. But just the memory of
Kate going
down on him made him go hard so fast that it hurt. He had never known a
woman who had wanted nothing more from him than to give him pleasure.
Though that wasn't exactly true, he conceded. Kate wanted a piece of
his heart. And after she had given to him so unselfishly last night, he
was afraid that he'd never be able to live without her.
Was it possible to start a new chapter in his life? Could he get his
swing back together before anyone got wind of the fact that his game
was falling apart? Could he win the PGA and prove that he was a true
golfer?
Could he let Kate into his life? Could he deserve her love?
He didn't know.
"You want me to say something?" he asked. "Then how about, 'You're
amazing.' "
Her eyes went wide. "Oh," she whispered.
"Now swing."
She blinked, then turned to focus on the ball like she was standing on
a shooting range instead of a golf
course. Clearly trying to hit the ball really hard, she jerked the
stroke. Instead of sending the ball rocketing toward the green, she
sent it up into the air. By the time it returned to earth, it landed
only about thirty yards in front of them, ninety yards from the pin.
They stood there and stared. The sun was making its steady ascent, but
not yet blazing, the sky a cobalt blue without a cloud to be seen. An
egret swooped down, its wings wide and majestic, before it settled into
one of the towering cottonwood trees that lined the fairways.
"Now you can use your nine iron," he said with a chuckle, then headed
back to the cart before he could touch her.
Kate walked the short distance, made her shot, impressively well this
time, managing to land the ball exactly as he predicted. She was on the
first green in four strokes. Not bad for someone who hadn't played
since high school. She leaped up and cheered, and Jesse couldn't help
his smile.
After a decent two-putt into the hole, they moved on to the second tee
box.
For the first time in weeks, Jesse felt a low burn of desire to pick up
a club. Nothing forced, as he had
felt every day that he went to the
course. He almost did it, but decided to wait until tonight when he
could slip through the fence across the street from her house to
practice. No sense in trying if he wasn't sure he could succeed.
During the next three holes, they hardly spoke, Jesse lost to his
thoughts, Kate lost to her own. On number six, he realized that
something had eased in Kate, as if she was slowly unwinding with every
stroke she took.
Concentrating on her shot, she lined up with the flag, aiming directly
for the pin. He noticed that she
had the habit of
biting her lower lip when she concentrated. Even that seemed sexy when
she did it.
So much about her seemed sexy now. The way she walked, and even the
damned feathered pen she
kept hidden in the kitchen desk drawer. It was
like Kate was ruining him for any other kind of woman.
When she duffed a chip shot into a hazard, he laughed and surprised
himself when he took her sand wedge. For a second he went still. But no
one was around, the foursome well behind them.
"Stand back," he said, feeling a competitive surge, "and let a pro show
you how it's done."
Kate smiled as he chipped out of the trap, the ball rolling within
inches of the hole. He even putted it in
to give her a par. "Saved your
cute little backside from yet another bogey or even worse," he
announced with teasing pride.
She conceded with a nod, but her eyes narrowed with determination when
she stepped up to the next
tee box. Not to be outdone, she concentrated
and swung her driver with a good amount of proficiency considering that
she rarely played. She worked each shot after that.
Jesse hung back until halfway up the number eight fairway. The need to
swing a club ticked through him. And when she walked up for a short
shot onto the green, Jesse dropped a ball next to hers.
"I'll give you a two-stroke handicap," he said.
"Are you suggesting a competition, Mr. Chapman?"
"You bet."
Though who knew Kate could be so competitive? She rubbed her hands
together and chuckled wickedly until he laughed and snatched away the
pitching wedge. "Watch and weep," he quipped.
But just as he started to make the shot, she belted out a whooping
scream.
In some deep recess of his mind he understood she was playing with him.
But another part, a more recent part, responded with a fierce wildness
as he remembered that day barely a month ago on the driving range in
Westchester, the tournament scheduled to start the next day. It was the
moment when Jesse's game had started falling apart.
Memories of that day swam to the surface. Early morning, the sun not
yet up. He had wanted some time alone on the driving range before
anyone arrived so he could hit practice balls in peace. But peace
wasn't to be had. His father had already been there on the range, the
sky still purple, not yet brightened by the sun that threatened on the
horizon. Carlen Chapman had been angry as he hit ball after ball,
smelling of alcohol, upset because Jesse hadn't introduced him at the
players' dinner the night before.
But Jesse had been just as furious. He'd had enough— of his father's
antics, of his father's demands. In that moment, he'd had the same
blinding tunnel vision as his father, so they were both taken by
surprise when everything changed.
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