Название: Red
Автор: Erica Spindler
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Silhouette
isbn: 9781472092465
isbn:
Gina’s eyes were closed, her breathing soft and even. “Are you asleep?” he asked.
She opened her eyes. “No. Just thinking.”
“What about?”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was wondering, where did you learn to do, you know, all that?”
“I’ve seen and heard a lot of stuff. Mostly on location.” He grinned. “You’d be surprised what a kid can learn by keeping his eyes and ears open.”
She giggled. “I like surprises.”
She fell silent again, and Jack propped himself up on an elbow to gaze down at her. She arched her eyebrows. “What?”
“Just looking.”
“Oh.”
“Gina?” She met his eyes again. “Are you going to keep modeling?”
“For sure. After this semester, I’m quitting school. I’m already a year behind, and I can’t keep up.”
“School’s not my favorite thing, but my mother would have a fit if I even thought about dropping out.”
“Mine doesn’t care. This is my career, and I can only do it while I’m young.” She tilted her head, studying him. “What are you going to do when you get out of school? Go to college?”
He shook his head. “I’m going to be a fashion photographer.”
“Like your dad.”
“I don’t think of him that way,” Jack corrected grimly. “The only thing we have in common is blood. You’ve got to give a shit to be a father. Or a son. Besides,” he said, his voice tight with determination, “I’m going to be better than him.”
“Carlo’s going to be a fashion photographer, too. He told Sara.”
Jack narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to be better than both of them. You can bet on it.”
She looked up at him, her cheeks and eyes glowing. “I believe you will be.”
“Do you, Gina?” He smiled at her, pleased, feeling suddenly like the experienced one, the one in control.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice thick. “I think you’re going to be able to do anything you put your mind to.”
He pressed his mouth to hers in a quick, hard kiss. “When did you say your mother was going to be home?”
Together they glanced at the wall clock. “Not for a while.”
“Great.” He curved his lips into a slow, satisfied smile. “As long as we’re here, what would you say about—”
He leaned close to her and whispered what he would like to do in her ear. Laughing, she drew him to her again.
Much later, Jack and Gina dressed in silence. He felt spent, energized, taut, and relaxed all at the same time. Gina walked him to the door, facing him when they reached it. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” she said softly, her cheeks bright with color.
He cupped her face, leaned down and kissed her. “Can I call you?”
She sighed. “Oh, yes.”
He opened the door and started through it. She caught his hand, stopping him. “Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“Tonight, I did it with you just because I…wanted to. It didn’t have anything to do with…anything else.” She clung to his hand. “And it’s never…been that way for me before. It’s never felt so…good.”
Satisfaction and pride swelled inside him. He brought their joined hands to his mouth. “Gina, can I ask you something? It’s important.”
She nodded, searching his serious expression. “Anything.”
“Don’t have sex with him. With Carlo. Okay?”
“Because he’s your brother?”
“Because I don’t like him. I don’t like him a lot.” He tightened his fingers on hers. “It’s really important to me, Gina. Can you promise?”
“I promise, Jack.” She smiled up at him. “I’d do anything for you.”
10
“Jack. It’s time to get up.”
Jack cracked open his eyes. His mother stood in his bedroom doorway, her expression troubled. His pulse began to thud in his head. She had found out about last night. But how? He had returned his friend’s car by the stroke of midnight, and had beaten his mother home by thirty minutes. He had heard her come in, had pretended to be deeply asleep when she had looked in on him.
But still, he could see that something was wrong.
“Morning,” he managed to say, his voice a rasp. He struggled into a sitting position. “What’s up?”
She crossed the room to his bed, then sat gingerly on its edge. “We need to talk about what went on yesterday.”
Images of him and Gina flew to his head, and his manhood stirred.
He swore silently and quickly shifted his gaze, afraid that if he looked her in the eye, she would read every one of his thoughts, that she would know.
“How are you feeling?” She laid her hand on his forehead. “You’re a little flushed.”
He jerked his head back, embarrassed. “I’m fine, Mom.”
“Mrs. Green told me you called. Early.” She drew her eyebrows together in concern. “You’re sure you’re okay? You feel a little warm.”
If his mother knew why he felt warm, if she could read his mind, she would have a heart attack.
He sat up straighter and looked her in the eye. “I wasn’t sick, Mom.”
“You weren’t?” She shook her head, confused. “Then why did you call Mrs. Gre—”
“I sneaked out.”
She drew a sharp, surprised breath. “You what?”
“I sneaked out. I had a date with Gina.”
“Gina, the model?” his mother asked faintly.
“I went to her house.” And fucked my brains out. It was the greatest night of my life. “To study with her,” he added, lacing his fingers together in his lap. Surely he could live with the small lie? After all, there were things a son could never tell his mother, even in an effort to be honest. “She invited me over when I was at the shoot yesterday.”
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