“You’re still here.”

  I nodded.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Not yet. You?”

  “No.”

  “Where should we go?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re in New York,” I laughed. “Don’t you want to see something? The Empire State Building? The Statue of Liberty?”

  He smiled a little but shook his head. “How about Central Park?”

  I glanced at my watch. “We probably have another hour before the sun goes down.”

  He furrowed his brow in confusion.

  Oh, right. While I’d never walk alone at dusk in Central Park, Jonas lived a different life. In fact, he’d be the type of guy I’d cross the street to avoid at night. What would it feel like to have a boyfriend like Jonas, to walk out on the dark New York streets, knowing he could take just about anything that came? Tonight I’d get a taste.

  “I know a good place,” I said. “Let’s get a cab.”

  He followed me to the street and opened the door of the taxi for me. I gave the driver directions and stole a glance at Jonas. The scar along his hard jaw and the day’s worth of stubble made him look even grittier when he wasn’t smiling. And he wasn’t anymore.

  He was staring at me.

  “No curly hair today?” he asked.

  I wrinkled my nose. “When I let it stay curly, it gets too wild. Especially in the rain.”

  Jonas fingered a stray lock of hair that had escaped from the bun but didn’t say anything.

  “You didn’t think I’d come?” I asked softly.

  He shook his head warily. “I’m glad you did, but I’m not sure where this is going.” He looked over at me, his mouth pulled into a wry smile. “Things work better when I know what’s coming.”

  Of course. The man in his book was all action and reaction, guided by anger, lust and the drive to stay on top. The man sitting next to me kept those parts of himself on a short leash. How much did he struggle every day to keep these parts of him under control? I had seen hints of this side of him in Paris, but today in the conference room, I understood why he spent his days alone, shut off from the rest of the world. He shaped his new, reformed life around the idea that he wasn’t fit for everyday company, no matter what his release papers said.

  But who was I to judge? I held my own life under just as tight control. I arrived at work early and left late, making sure I’d never be out of a job. That I’d never have to rely on someone else. Jonas had been right in Paris. Every choice I made was measured on a scale of whether or not it would take me farther from my past.

  Every decision except the ones that involved Jonas.

  We drove along the edge of the park, lined with the lush colors of fall. It had been years since I had been to Central Park, back when I still lived in Brooklyn. Back when the course of my life wasn’t as set.

  THERE WAS WARINESS in the way Jonas kept his distance, hands in his pockets, as he walked into the park. The oranges and yellows of fall had taken over, drowning out the lush green of summer. The trees and the grass sparkled with the sheen of water from the rain, and the air was still wet and heavy. I hugged my coat closer against the cold.

  “Central Park is bigger than I thought it would be,” said Jonas. “I’ve heard everything in this country is big, but it’s still surprising.”

  I nodded. “I haven’t seen most of it. Just the Met – the museum we passed – and this place I’m taking you. But there’s a lot of other things I’ve always meant to do. A zoo, concerts in the summer, an ice rink in the winter.”

  He tilted his head at me. “Do you skate?”

  “Not at all. You?”

  Jonas smiled. “They start us Swedes on skates in preschool, if you can believe it.”

  I couldn’t even begin to imagine Jonas as a child.

  “Did you ever play hockey?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  “I bet you were good at it.” I could see him on the hockey rink, a little older, towering over the other guys. Though if his past was any indication, he probably would have spent most of the time in the penalty box.

  Jonas sighed. “I tried playing for a while, but team sports aren’t really my thing. And I didn’t get along with the coach. Besides, it costs a lot of money to play.”

  “And your parents couldn’t pay for it?”

  Jonas shrugged. “I never asked.”

  He had mentioned the lack of money before. How hard did he have to struggle to get what he wanted? If he was anything like me, he probably squashed hundreds of dreams, knowing there was no use pining after something so far out of reach.

  “Do you ever wonder how your life might have gone differently?”

  He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “I used to think about that all the time when I was a teenager. How would it feel if I lived in a nice house instead of a shitty, run-down apartment? What was it like to have a father who could hold down a job and didn’t spend his welfare money on beer? But what’s the point of thinking about the things you can’t have?”

  I nodded. Jonas had never said a word about his family before. We walked along the sidewalk, dodging puddles, and I waited to see if he’d add anything else.

  “But lately, I’ve wondered about what would have happened if I had applied to college,” he said after a while. “I had the grades, and college is free in Sweden, so I could have gone. But I just couldn’t see myself in that life.” He glanced over at me and added, “You know, college, a job in an office with a boss, married, kids, all that shit.”

  “All that shit,” I echoed, smiling a little.

  He smiled too. “But maybe there were more than just two options.”

  Back in high school, I only knew about a couple choices, too. I had taken pains to avoid the pregnant option, so I was left with finding a way out of my neighborhood, into a life that didn’t involve words like eviction notice, repeat felon and parole. Everything I swore I’d never face again.

  Or so I had thought. Jonas was shaking up these pillars in my life.

  The park was far from empty, despite the fading glow of the sun behind the trees. The sidewalk was filled with joggers, people walking their dogs and a few couples.

  I pointed to a lookout spot with stone steps down on either side. “This is what I had in mind.”

  I walked over to the carved railing that overlooked the fountain and the lake, and Jonas followed close behind. He rested his hands on the stone and looked out at the bucolic scene, so removed from city life. The oranges of the fall leaves reflected off the water, shimmering in the fading light. It had been so long since I had stood here. It was almost as if I had been another person back then. And now I was here with Jonas.

  He was silent. He turned around and rested against the heavy stone railing, his eyes on me.

  “This is unexpected,” he said, eyebrows raised. “I thought you weren’t into mushy romantic stuff.”

  He was smiling, but his deep blue eyes searched mine.

  “I’m not,” I said. “I’ve only been here once, a long time ago.”

  He gave me a quizzical look. “If I lived in a city like this, I’d come here every day.”

  I shrugged.

  “Let’s go down by the water,” I said.

  We walked down the flights of stone steps, onto the terrace. The fountain wasn’t running, and beyond it the lake was still and quiet. At one end, the Boathouse patio glowed softly in the setting sun, the silhouettes of patrons in the windows.

  Jonas’s warm breath teased my neck. He was close, so close. If I turned my head, I could run my fingers along the stubble of his jaw, guiding his full lips to mine. It was happening again, that flare of attraction that grew hotter each time I came near him. I wanted to touch him, to go back to that easy comfort of Paris. Just for one more night?

  I straightened up. “Let’s walk.”

  I headed for the path along the shore, and Jonas followed. The silence grew heavier as the memories I had pushed away all flooded back. The lines of his tattoos. The hard muscles of his chest under my fingers. The weight of his heavy body on mine. And the words he spoke.

  No. I couldn’t go over those words again, not now. I searched for a safe topic, but nothing came.

  “Are those row boats for rent?” asked Jonas, pointing further along the shore.

  I nodded. “Probably too late to go out today.”

  A gust of wind blew leaves across the path.

  “Have you ever done that?” he asked.

  I nodded slowly. “Once.”

  “With Neil?”

  I snorted. “Not a chance.” I chuckled at the image of Neil in his expensive suit, climbing into a boat. “Not his thing.”

  “Then who was it?”

  “A guy from high school.” Shit. Maybe I could steer this conversation in another direction. Or maybe he’d know to drop it, the way he had back in Paris. Except this wasn’t Paris, not even close.

  “A boyfriend?”

  I shrugged. “Not really.” I glanced up at him.

  He was staring at me, his eyes filled with challenge. “You know every fucking mistake I’ve made. And you’re not going to tell me about this?”

  I huffed out a breath. “Fine. I was sixteen, and he was two years older. I didn’t think he had ever given me a second glance, so I couldn’t believe it when he asked me out. We took a cab here from Brooklyn, which costs a ton, and then he took me out on one of these boats. And the whole time I couldn’t get over that he had asked me out.”

  I swallowed, keeping my voice even. “We walked around a little, and he bought me ice cream. It was the kind of thing I never thought would happen to me.” I took a deep breath. “Then we went back to his place, and he wanted me to suck him off.”

  Jonas stopped. I turned around, and his face had that eerie, expressionless look I had seen earlier. “Did you?”

  I frowned. “Well, no. But for a little while I thought he might force me to.”

  Jonas didn’t move.

  There was no reason to hold back at this point, so I added the last humiliating details. “It turned out that another guy had bet him that he couldn’t get me to suck him off. So I told him I wouldn’t, but he could say whatever he wanted. I wouldn’t deny it. I guess that was what he really wanted.”

  Jonas closed his eyes. The pulse pounded at the base of his throat. When he looked at me again, there was pain in his intense gaze. He took a tentative step toward me and slowly put his arms around me. When I didn’t pull away, he brought me closer, tucking me against his broad chest.

  “Why the fuck did you ask me for those things in Paris?” His harsh, angry tone contrasted with the slow, soothing strokes of his hand down my back.

  I let out a shaky breath and let myself relax against his chest. There was no good answer except that I was curious. Back in high school, it was the same. I had known what that guy’s reputation was, and I still went out with him. I blamed it on my parents, my neighborhood and all the other things in my life that let the biggest guy that oozed violence and virility rise to the top. But this time, with Jonas, I was too old to blame anyone but myself.

  Jonas’s chest expanded and contracted, and his breath was warm in my hair. His arms moved to my shoulders, and he pulled away, holding me at a distance.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” he said softly. “I could have…” He shuddered. “You shouldn’t have put that kind of trust in me.”

  I hugged my coat closer and looked away. A woman passed with her tiny dog, eyes averted, sticking close to the side of the path. New Yorkers don’t stare, not even if they pass a don’t fuck with me guy glaring down at a woman on a darkening path.

  Jonas shifted on his feet, waiting for me to speak. When I didn’t, he stepped closer, towering over me. As if I needed another reminder about just how big he was. A bolt of white-hot lust ran through me. Oh, God. It was like I was hard-wired to respond to him when he was all worked up. And he knew it.

  “Why are you here?” he asked, his voice lower. “If you want one more night of taking our clothes off together, I won’t say no. But I need to know that now, before we go any further.”

  His words set off another rush of desire, and my breath hitched. If I couldn’t decide what I wanted after an afternoon of restless pacing in my apartment, I certainly wasn’t going to make any revelations when every muscle in my body was begging to touch him.

  Jonas seemed to register this shift into more sexual territory. His eyes narrowed.

  “Is that why you’re here?” he asked, his voice hard. “For another night? Because you’ve decided I’m not too dangerous to fuck one more time?”

  This was no longer a question. It was an accusation. I glanced down the path, but no one was around. The sun had set, and the park was getting dark.

  “Fuck you, Jonas,” I whispered. “You’re the one who set the limits when we left Paris.”

  He scowled but said nothing. All the frustration from the afternoon was bubbling up, and I couldn’t stop it from spilling out.

  “No, Jonas. My problem is that you don’t scare me,” I said. “My problem is that despite all the awful things you’ve done, I still came to your hotel. That I want you even more now that I know more about you. That’s what scares me.”

  I took a couple deep breaths. My heart was racing, but I didn’t look away from his eyes as he glared down at me. He took a step and then another, forcing me to back up until I was against one of the trees on the edge of the path.

  “Does it scare you that I know you live around the corner from where we ate lunch today?” he asked, his voice hard. That got my attention. My apartment? The one place in the world that was my own? But Jonas didn’t give me time to think further. “Does it scare you that I’d know how to break into your apartment whenever I wanted?” He leaned in closer. “You read my book. You know what I’ve done.”

  If this were a scene from a movie, I would have rolled my eyes. No sane woman would wander on a dimly lit footpath in Central Park with an ex-con with a penchant for violence. But I was that moth right now, my traitorous body about to burst into flames. And still I didn’t back down.

  “That guy back in high school who took me out on the boat could break into my apartment – he and every one of his friends,” I snapped. “But my front door is still standing. There’s a difference between what you’re capable of and what you choose to do.”

  His hands were suddenly under my ass, and he pressed my core against his rock-hard erection. He groaned. “Does it scare you that I get hard when you’re angry with me?” he whispered. “That I’ve already imagined all the crudest ways I could win this argument?”

  I let out a little moan. If he was trying to scare me away, trying to show that he was just as much of an asshole as every other guy like him, it wasn’t having the effect he intended. Or maybe it was. I was so close to the edge. There was nothing left to do but throw myself off.

  “Then do it,” I said. “Show me what I should be scared of.”

  Jonas growled, actually growled. His mouth crashed onto mine, his teeth against mine, his tongue plundering my mouth. It was crude, full of lust without finesse, without restraint. Finally, he wasn’t holding back. I tried to match his strokes, but he bombarded me with his hungry mouth, with his rough hands and the power of his body. His fingers pressed hard into my ass as he thrust into me. I squirmed against his hold and got nowhere. And, damn it, it was heaven.

  He broke off the kiss. His savage gaze glowed in the faint light.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he spat out.

  I glared at him. “Do you know how condescending you sound?”

  He pressed his lips into the base of my neck and sucked hard. I yelped in surprise. He moved his mouth a little lower, into the tender hollow above my collar bone. I closed my eyes and tipped back my head. He sucked again, this time harder, and a tremor ran through his body, pressed against mine. His groan was loud, unrestrained. His eyes met mine, filled with bottomless hunger, aching with insatiable need.

  “I won’t stop until I’ve gone too far,” he whispered. “Does that scare you?”

  Before I could register his words, his mouth descended on mine again, greedy, taking more and more. His body pressed my back against the tree trunk, and his hands slipped under my coat, searching for my breasts. His palms were hot, even through the material of my dress. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the rough bark of the tree. He found my nipples and squeezed, thrusting his rock-hard length against me at the same time. A loud cry escaped from my mouth, startling me. We were so far past public decency.

  I opened my eyes and froze. Only a few feet away was a guy, not much smaller than Jonas, gaping at us.

  “Oh,” I gasped, straightening up.

  Jonas stopped, his whole body tense. His eyes went to mine and then followed my gaze to the man. In an instant, everything about Jonas changed. His arms rose around me in a cocoon, one hand cradling my head.

  “Stay the fuck away from us,” Jonas growled, his eyes fixed on the man.

  The stranger didn’t move. He looked from Jonas to me, then back to Jonas. Did the guy think I was in danger? Jonas clearly wasn’t getting a good read on the situation. Or maybe I wasn’t.

  “It’s okay, Jonas,” I whispered.

  He shook his head a little.

  I turned to the man. “I’m fine. We’re…” I searched for the right words. “We’re together.”

  The guy frowned. “Then get a room.”

  “Good point,” Jonas muttered. Finally, his arms loosened a little.

  The man scowled, his eyes darting between us, and walked away. I took a few more gulps of air, trying to slow down my breaths.

  Jonas’s arms loosened further, and he backed away a little. He glanced around, as if he were taking in our surroundings for the first time.

  “We need to get out of here,” he said quietly.

  I nodded, and he adjusted what must have been the world’s most uncomfortable erection. I straightened out my dress, and we started back along the footpath, toward the Boathouse. He didn’t touch me, though he walked much closer than before, looking around.

 

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