Out of Control Read Online Free Page A

just his shinai, doing kendo, he’d found his way back to a sense of balance. Convinced himself that, while Jen Kessler was attractive and worth getting to know better, his strong reaction to her had been surprise as much as anything. He didn’t find himself on the receiving end of a lot of impulsive hugs. Jen had blasted right through his carefully cultivated reserve to the part of him he kept hidden behind that mask.
    Even after she’d obviously seen the riding crop, which made it all a little more interesting.
    That was all.
    Or so he thought until Jen did call. He didn’t recognize her number on his caller ID, but even after a simple, “Hi Drake,” he knew her voice.
    Knew it and felt it caressing his skin, ruffling his hair, messing up his mind.
    “I was wondering when you’d call.” He couldn’t decide if he sounded cool and slightly reproachful, pathetically eager or neutral. He was going for neutral but didn’t think he succeeded.
    She laughed, and the sound tickled him. “Weren’t you supposed to call me when you finished your paper?”
    That’s right, he had said that. “It took longer than I expected.” Which was the truth. It hadn’t helped that he kept getting distracted by thoughts of a certain red-haired artist, but saying that would definitely get into pathetically eager territory.
    “And meanwhile, I’ve started researching a new piece that involves some different techniques than I normally use. I’m going to…” Her voice trailed away briefly before she continued, “Why do I suspect you’ll understand a lecture on the technical aspects of art glass about as much as I’d understand if you tried to explain what your paper was about? Except you know what glass is , which means you might be ahead of me trying to understand math. I gave up after geometry.”
    “Geometry discourages a lot of people. That whole business of proving something that’s already obvious. But seriously, I think we’d be about even. I’m sure you can do the math you need in everyday life, but you don’t need to understand numbers the way I do. I might think a vase or a stained glass window is pretty, but I don’t need to understand it the same way an artist does—or even the guy at the beer-bottle factory.”
    He was being serious, but Jen sputtered with mirth. “Beer-bottle factory?”
    Her laugh was infectious, and Drake was glad to let it infect him. He was chuckling all out of proportion to the amusement, and he suspected some of it was the sheer pleasure of hearing Jen’s voice. Normally, he’d try to rein in the mirth to a more mature, dignified level. But this time he didn’t bother. After all, Jen was cracking up too.
    Finally, she calmed herself. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Way underslept. That new piece is consuming me—but I bet you know something about work eating your brain.”
    Drake made a small, noncommittal noise. It was scary that she understood him that well already.
    “Anyway,” Jen continued, “I need to fix that window, and I realized I better do that before I get any deeper into this project. Once I finish that piece, I’ll be going crazy making vases and stuff for the Solstice Show.” Drake must have made a puzzled sound, since she added, “You know, that big arts-and-crafts show on the Commons in mid-June?”
    “Right. That.” Drake thought it sounded familiar, but it wasn’t anything he’d ever paid much attention to.
    “So when would be a good time to come by and do the window? I’ll have to take it out, but I know how to do that. My dad taught me. It’s supposed to be pretty nice the next few days. And I’ll be taking over the floor of the apartment for a couple of days, but I’ll lay down newspaper.”
    Drake felt a wave of cock-twitching excitement at the thought of seeing Jen again, followed by a wave of dismay at the strength of his reaction. He wanted to see her, but at the same time he didn’t. He wasn’t sure if this ambivalence was because he was