She shook her head. “No, you’re not married. That’s not proper. What would her parents think if I let you sleep in the same bed?”
My father would be pissed, but probably because he had no idea where I was. I’d told him I was going to Mexico with some friends for spring break. The first big lie I’d told, and although I felt awful about it, the darkest part of me reveled in being bad.
Joseph’s hand tightened around my shoulders. “Do you think putting us in separate rooms will keep us from having sex?”
His mother and I gasped collectively, and I turned to look up at him wide-eyed. Did he really just say that?
“I’m thirty-eight years old,” he added.
His mother fought for control. “But you’re under my roof.”
“Am I?” he said, looking around. “The deposit on my credit card says otherwise.”
Holy shit. He’d paid for the house, too? His mother’s face flushed red, and I jabbed an elbow into his stomach. “It’s fine, I can sleep on the couch.”
His expression darkened. “Forget it.”
“If you keep being rude to your family, I’m going to prefer it.”
His mouth dropped open. Was he expecting me to be a pushover about this? How a man treated his family said a lot about him. Joseph’s mouth snapped shut and his expression set.
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely to his mother, “let’s try this again. I didn’t tell you I was bringing Noemi because I knew this was going to be an issue. Between my work and her class schedule, we don’t get to see each other as much as I’d like, so we’re going to stay in the same room. If you’re uncomfortable, we can find a hotel.”
Carol’s hands rested on her hips and her eyes narrowed. “Dammit, you’re so stubborn.”
“Yeah, don’t know where I got that from.” He accused her with a look.
She threw up her hand, a gesture of giving in. “I’m not happy about this.”
“I get that.” Hopefully I was the only one who saw the flash of victory in his eyes.
We dragged our luggage to the end of the hall where an enormous bedroom waited, decorated with stone colors and a Zen-theme. The door clicked shut as Joseph closed it, and I turned to face him, irritated.
“You’re right,” I said. “You didn’t adequately prepare me. Or them.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I . . .” he scratched the back of his neck, “don’t really know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Introduce someone to my family.”
He hadn’t done it before? “For starters, maybe don’t tell your mom we’ve had sex.”
“She’s not an idiot, Noemi.”
I turned and unzipped my suitcase, rifling through the clothes for my flip-flops. “I didn’t say she was. You’re just not supposed to talk about sex with your parents. Let them live in the fantasy-world, if they want to, that you’re waiting for marriage. Don’t give them proof that you haven’t.”
“Stop,” he commanded. I hadn’t heard him approach, but suddenly arms were around me, pulling me back up against his hard chest. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about the situation I put you in.” His lips trailed open-mouthed kisses along my neck. “All I can think about is waking up next to you tomorrow morning.”
We still hadn’t truly done that, since he worked too much and I had several projects due before break. The idea made my knees soften and my eyes flutter shut. God, his effect was like a rip-tide. Too strong to fight, better to give in.
“So the question is,” his voice filled my ear, “will that be on the couch, or here? Because that’s going to fucking happen. I stay wherever you stay.”
A button was unsnapped and my zipper tugged down. His hand slipped inside the front of my jeans, rubbing me through the cotton of my panties. Heat flowed through me, pooling between my legs.
“Where are we staying, Noemi?”
“Here,” I said on a hurried breath.