37. Jasper
37
JASPER
The moment my lips touch hers, everything else fades away. The gentle lapping of the water against the platform, the distant birdsong, the warm sun on my skin—it all disappears.
There is only Coraline.
Her lips are soft and pliant beneath mine, parting on a breathy gasp. I take the invitation, deepening the kiss as I pull her impossibly closer. She tastes like summer sunshine and sweet temptation, an intoxicating combination that sets my blood on fire.
Her fingers thread through my hair, tugging gently as she matches my energy. I groan into her mouth, the sound swallowed by our kisses. My hands map the curves of her body, trailing along her spine, over the swell of her hips, committing every dip and valley to memory.
She arches into me, those tits I’ve dreamed about pressing against my chest, taunting me. Her arms wind around my neck as she kisses me back. The heat between us builds with every slide of our tongues, every nip of teeth against lips. I drink her in like a man dying of thirst, lost to everything but the feel of her in my arms.
She pulls away, but I let her because she returned my kiss with fucking fervor . And that’s not a word I think often. But there’s no other way to describe the way that woman throws her whole goddamn soul into every kiss.
Jealousy eats me from inside, a black, festering wound on my heart. The very idea that this is simply how she kisses anyone is unacceptable. Nah, this is something she reserves just for me.
She heads toward the swim platform, climbing the short ladder until she’s standing in the middle. She grins at me, this joyful, almost shy sort of smile. Coraline Carter shy? The idea is enough of a motivator as any, and I follow her to the platform.
I snag a couple of bottles of water from the cooler I packed earlier and toss her one. She catches it against her chest, the fabric of my tee pulling a little to the right. Giving me a glimpse of the side of her breast. My mouth waters as my gaze gobbles up the sight of that curve.
I’m half-convinced she’s made of magic or witchcraft or something. There’s no logical explanation for the way every thing about this woman turns me on.
She sits on the edge of the platform, her feet dangling in the lake. With a flick of her wrist, she twists off the cap and takes a long sip of water.
I watch, mesmerized by the way her throat works as she swallows.
She closes her water bottle and tosses it into the cooler before slipping back into the lake. “Jasper,” she hedges. “There’s something I wanted to tell you. About last night.”
I abandon the platform with my heart in my throat. There could be a handful of different things she wants to tell me. I swim toward her, giving her a couple of feet of space. “We can talk about anything, baby.”
“Perfect. Let’s talk about how you fell asleep cuddled to my foot like it was some kind of stuffed animal. Is this the part where you tell me you have a foot fetish?” She smirks at me, her lips just above the surface of the water. Her arms move in smooth, controlled strokes, keeping her body afloat in the clear blue water.
That is absolutely not what I thought she was going to say. My head tips back, a bark of laughter catching me by surprise.
“So you’re aware then?” she asks, looking down her nose at me. All sass, all the fucking time.
“Don’t be a brat.”
She feigns offense, her head tilting back and her hand pressing against her chest. “Me? I would never. But back to the foot fetish.”
I roll my eyes, annoyed that I have to break her teasing up with something serious. If I don’t get some answers soon, I think I might have a fucking breakdown or something. My mind has been working in overdrive ever since she came to me last night, and in double-time since I saw that fucking video.
Fuck it. Let’s just rip the band-aid off.
“Nah, baby. I want to talk about what happened last night.”
Her smile falls from her face so fast, I think I could’ve blinked and missed it. She starts to swim back toward the floating platform like that’s going to save her from these questions. “I don’t want to talk about that, Jagger.”
I’m behind her in an instant, crowding her against the edge of the platform close enough that she can’t get up on it. “Jasper,” I growl into the crook of her neck from behind. “You call me Jasper.”
She backs her ass into me, her head turning toward me. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. If I want to call you Jagger , then I will.”
Goddamn, she flipped from flirty to fiery in two fucking seconds.
My hands wrap around her ribs, and I pull her flush to me. I drop my face into the crook of her neck, dragging my lips along the elegant slope. “Tell me what happened last night, baby.” It’s a fucking plea at this point. I need to know what happened exactly, what those guys said to her. What kind of shit she’s tangled up in.
How can I fix it if I don’t know the full details?
Her breath hitches, her legs moving to tread water. But I’m standing on a little sandbar, so I’ve got her.
“I already told you what happened,” she says, her shoulders tensing.
I place a line of chaste kisses along her shoulder. “Tell me who it was.”
Her breath hitches, either from my touch or the question. “I, uh, I don’t know.”
I tsk, trailing the disapproving sound along her skin. “Try again.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” she insists, her legs moving a little harder in the water.
Using the back of my index finger, I drag her hair off her back to hang over her other shoulder. I drop my mouth to the top of her spine and murmur, “You talked for four minutes and thirty-seven seconds to those motherfuckers, Coraline. Over four minutes. Tell me what he said before he hit you.”
She whirls around in an explosive move, the water churning beneath us. Lips pressed firmly together and eyes narrowed with righteous anger.
I nod, pleased we’re on the same page again. “Good, you’re angry. Me too.”
She leans into me. “ You don’t get to be angry.”
“The fuck I don’t,” I counter, feeling the hot pricks of indignation along my spine.
“No, you don’t, Jagger .”
“Don’t,” I murmur, surging forward until my lips hover over hers. “Don’t push me, Coraline.”
But my beautiful stubborn woman doesn’t head the warning, because why the fuck would she? She’d burn the world to the ground if I told her not to. Just out of fucking spite.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her barely-covered nipples brushing against my bare chest with every inhale. She leans in and drags her nose along my jaw until her lips are right next to my ear. “You don’t get to be angry, because you’re not my goddamn boyfriend .” She punctuates the last word with her teeth sinking into my earlobe.
It’s the worst and best thing she could’ve done. She’s taunting me, luring out that prowling beast inside of me. This desperate sound growls from the back of my throat, my frustration given noise.
I sink my hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and pull her back so she can see me. I feel a little wild, like my skin is too tight and the sun is unbearably hot. “You’re right, baby. I’m your fucking man .” I emphasize the last word just like she did, dragging my teeth over the tendon in her neck.
She shakes her head, a feeble protest. “This isn’t real.”
“I’m getting tired of hearing you say that, baby.”
“Well, it’s true, so get used to it,” she bites out.
“Does this feel fucking fake to you?”
Her mouth parts, a snappy retort on the tip of her tongue, I’m sure. But I don’t give her a second to spit it out at me. I dive in and swallow every single word, sweeping my tongue around and proving to her that nothing about this—about us —is fake.
She tastes like melted chocolate over strawberries on a fucking summer’s afternoon. Lush and sweet and so fucking addicting. Her tongue wages war, battling mine for dominance. She can’t give in that easily. Her pride won’t let her, and that’s fine. I’ll give her whatever she fucking needs.
I use my grip on her hair to angle her head back so I can see her eyes better. They’re filled with a mix of fear, desire, and defiance—a dangerous cocktail that sends a jolt of exhilaration through my veins. I move my lips closer to hers, the tension between us hanging in the air like a storm cloud waiting to burst.
“Tell me to stop.”
She lifts her chin. “No.”