Savage Lane Read Online Free PDF Page B

he was far from gorgeous. His ears stuck out a little too far and, at eighteen, his hairline was already receding, and he was lanky, a little awkward. Sometimes his arms seemed too long for his body, and he had a tick where he blinked too hard and too often when he was nervous or self-conscious. But there was just something about him that always sharpened Deb’s senses, mesmerized her. When he was nearby, even when she wasn’t looking at him, she was hyperaware of his presence. To Deb, Owen wasn’t a person; he was passion. He made her feel wanted, desired, sexy and, yes, younger.
    Owen went to sit in his usual spot on the bleachers, not even looking at Deb. Though sometimes Owen wasn’t as careful as he should’ve been with his texting, the main reason the affair had lasted as long as it had was because they were always discreet in public. Was she imagining it or could she smell his Axe cologne? He was probably too far away to actually smell it, but being around him was so intoxicating and arousing in every way.
    It’s over, Owen, we can’t see each other anymore. It’s over, Owen, we can’t see each other anymore.
    After he watched about ten minutes of practice, Owen left the pool area. Deb knew exactly where he was going.
    Deb waited about five minutes and then she got up and left as well. A five-minute lag was enough that no one could suspect that her exit had anything to do with Owen’s.
    Deb went down the first floor hallway to the ladies’ room, where she went to the bathroom, washed her hands, and then spent a couple of minutes staring in the mirror, trying to get up the strength to do what she had to do. Then she left the bathroom, but instead of returning to the pool area, she made sure no one was around and went up to the third floor.
    Walking along the third floor hallway, Deb’s heart rate accelerated. In front of room 314, she paused, gathering more strength, then entered.
    Owen was where he always was—sitting at the desk.
    “Good morning, Debbie,” he said.
    She took a deep breath and tried to slow her heart rate.
    “We need to talk,” she said.
    That was good—taking control, or trying to. She shut the door, but remained near it.
    “I know we do, Debbie, that’s why I’ve been waiting for you.”
    She loved when he spoke to her in a commanding tone; it was so goddamn sexy.
    “Seriously,” she said. “We have to.”
    “I know, it’s very serious,” he said. “You got an F on your term paper, and you’re usually an A student. Was there some sort of problem?”
    Ok, this was the time to do it. Right now.
    “Yeah, actually there is a problem,” she said.
    “Really?” he said. “Okay, what’s your excuse?”
    She wanted to say the line she’d rehearsed, tell him it was over, but then she had a vision of Mark and Karen, on the road in front of Karen’s house, looking so together . What if Mark was planning to leave the marriage? Deb knew she couldn’t handle being alone. She’d go crazy.
    “I…” she said. “I… I don’t know.”
    Owen stood, facing her.
    “I’m sure you have a good excuse, Debbie, and I’m sure we can work something out.”
    Owen was deep in the fantasy, in his role, and Deb wanted to be in it with him, just one more time.
    She approached the desk, swinging her hips back and forth. She stopped, biting down a little on her lower lip, looking like she wanted to devour him, and then, after she got on her knees in front of him, she looked up at his smooth face, and he seemed so tall, so commanding, and she heard a sad, desperate voice that sounded nothing like her own say, “Well, you know I’d do anything for an A, Mr. Harrison,” and she couldn’t stop it anymore.
    The fantasy was back.

K AREN D AILY dreaded making the phone call, but she had no choice. Steven was a good guy—funny, honest, sincere—but if she’d learned one thing from her divorce it was that life was too short to spend with the wrong person.
    “Hey, I was just thinking about