Chapter 7
Seven
Samantha had scurried out of the house before he’d gotten out of bed the next morning. And she wasn’t home when he got in from working the next afternoon.
It was so fricking cold outside he felt like his balls had been on ice all day, which, all things considered, was kind of helpful. Especially since he’d spent the whole night trying to ignore the hard-on from hell that seemed to be inextricably linked to a shame wave that threatened to wash him away the minute he wrapped his hand around himself.
He’d been awake most of the night, horny and unable to do anything about it. Because he was hard for Sam, and that was something he was ashamed about. Vicious cycle set on repeat.
Thankfully, punishing physical labor in weather that was pushing the negative numbers on the thermometer was helpful for that state. If he couldn’t tame his nether regions he’d freeze them off.
He poured himself some coffee, needing the warmth in spite of the fact that it was past five in the evening, and added just a little bit of booze. To warm himself up. And to make the image of Samantha’s breasts a little less clear in his mind.
He froze at the kitchen counter, his hand wrapped tight around the hot mug. Perfect, pale breasts with little pink nipples. So hard. So delicious. One taste and he craved more with everything in him.
He craved her flavor. Not just her mouth or her breasts. He wanted to bury his face between her thighs and...
Poppy barked and Jace jumped, sloshing his coffee and alcohol mixture over the edge of his cup.
He turned and looked at the dog. “You can read my mind, can’t you?” he said, his tone hostile. Poppy looked confused by what she’d done to earn his anger, but he had no doubt that she knew. That bark was too well timed.
“I can have fantasies,” he said. “It’s my right as a man.”
Poppy tilted her head to the side. Silently judging.
“Clearly you wouldn’t understand. I guess you’ve never met another mutt who lit your fire. It’s probably better in the end. This is all a lot more trouble than it’s worth.”
The front door slammed shut and Poppy jingled over to the entryway. He looked out the window and saw Sam’s van parked out front, covered in snow. Oh, so that was why she’d been barking. Fair enough.
He stayed at the counter in the kitchen, cursing his own cowardice. He was avoiding her for the next thirty seconds. It seemed the thing to do. And if that made him chicken shit, then fine. He was. He owned it. But he was extending the moment between now and the awkward silence for as long as possible.
Then Sam walked into the kitchen, holding a cake and wearing a huge grin on her face. “Hi! How was your day? Have cheese sandwiches for lunch?”
“Leftover chili,” he said, feeling a little stunned.
“Oh. Well, you know, ’cuz of the nostalgia and whatever.” She laughed, a weird, high-pitched sound, and set the cake on the little table by the window. “I brought cake!”
“You’re going to make me fat. It’s going to go straight to my hips,” he said, his tone dry.
Her cheeks flushed pink. “Ha!” Her fake laugh was as overenthusiastic as her fake smile. “Funny. Jace, that’s...funny. Because you’re a man and things don’t uh...they don’t go to your hips.”
“Yeah, Sam, that was the joke. Thanks for explaining it.”
“I’m going to make dinner.”
“What the hell, Sam?”
“What the hell what?”
“You’re fluttering around here chattering like a deranged chipmunk and trying to pretend everything is okay when you know damn well things aren’t okay. You’re trying so hard to act like everything is normal that you’re acting like a nut job.”
“I...I’m not.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, then fidgeted and cocked her hip out to the side, uncrossing her arms and putting a hand on her hip instead. “I’m...fine.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because of last night.”
“What?” she said, her voice reaching heights that were almost only audible to Poppy. “That was...nothing. We made out.”
He crossed his arms in return. “We made out?”
“Yeah, we kissed. So...so what? No big deal. I’ve kissed guys that I’ve only known for, like, twenty minutes. It’s really only surprising that we’ve never kissed before. We’ve known each other forever. Not really a huge shock that we’d test the waters. Ha. Waters. See what I did there?”
He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him. “Stop,” he said, anger pooling in his gut. “Stop making it a joke.”
“We kissed, Jace. Stop making a huge deal out of it. We don’t need a postmortem. There’s not even a body.”
“Just a kiss?”
“Yeah.”
He swore and released his hold on her, pushing his fingers through his hair. “Just a kiss? That’s what that was to you? That’s why you were digging your nails into my back like that? Do you kiss all your dates that way, baby? Because if so, I’ve been missing out.”
Her whole face turned red. “Stop it.”
“Why? You’re determined to act like nothing happened! You’re lying about it, to me, to yourself...”
“Because this is the alternative!” she shouted. “Screaming about it and freaking out about it because...because suddenly this bomb went off between us and neither of us could do anything about it. Because it scares the hell out of me, Jace. Because we went from best friends to having a mutual orgasm in a bathtub in about three minutes flat.”
“Actually, Sam, it took fourteen years to get into the bathtub, but I get your point.”
“Aren’t you freaked out?”
“Hell yes.”
“Then why talk about it?”
“Because it happened.”
“But we can pretend it didn’t,” she said, her eyes shining. “Please, Jace, can we pretend it didn’t?”
“How?”
“By not talking about it,” she said. “I’m embarrassed.”
“Why are you embarrassed?” He knew why he was embarrassed. Because, in his estimation, it was pretty obvious why it had been so easy for him to go from friend to bathtub buddy. It uncovered the fact that he had some serious not-so-latent lust where she was concerned.
“Because I...climbed all over you like a...hoochie mama.”
He laughed, in spite of the situation and his own horror at it; he just couldn’t help it. “Sam, that wasn’t what I thought about you.”
“Well, gosh, I don’t know what you thought. I attacked you. I’m horrified. I literally have no excuse except...obviously—” she took a breath “—obviously I’m attracted to you, but the thing is, it’s not really worth doing anything about.”
He felt like he’d been sucker punched. “You’re attracted to me?”
“No, Jace, I think you’re a flipping ogre, that’s why the minute you touched me I had a violent orgasm.”
Heat streaked over his skin and his face got hot, not from embarrassment but from that same dangerous arousal that had overtaken common sense yesterday. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of something to say.
“Obviously it’s mutual,” he said. “I sort of felt like I attacked you.”
“I think I embedded a fingernail in your shoulder.”
“I knew you...liked it,” he said. “But I felt like I must have taken advantage of you and...”
“No. I felt like I jumped you. But it looks like we both sort of feel like the sexual predator and neither of us feel...preyed upon, so that’s...good. And now we can move on. Hopefully we’re both a little less...hair trigger now.”
He laughed because the alternative was to say: no, no I’m not, if you touched me right now I’d come on contact.
“I know we avoid talking about this stuff, but it’s been...a while for me. Since before the bakery. Since David...so...a long time.”
“Right,” he said, not sure he liked the explaining-it-away thing she was doing. But what was the other option? There wasn’t one. Not really. The other option was to say it meant something. But...he didn’t think he could have it mean something. He was sure she didn’t want it to mean anything.
Burning attraction to your best friend only worked if you were also hopelessly in love with them. Which he was not.
And she definitely wasn’t.
They were just, apparently, mutually hot for each other and in a mutual dry spell. So that explained things. That was the perk of explaining things away, he guessed.
“It’s been a while for me too.” Not that long, but a few months...like...eight now that he thought about it, which was actually a very long time.
“So see? There. Glad we talked.” She patted his arm, then drew back quickly. “This was good. Now we can...be normal.”
“As normal as we are.”
“Yeah, well, normal for us. It will be enough.” She smiled, but the smile still rang false. He smiled back, and he knew his was fake. “I’ll make dinner.”
“Seriously, you don’t have to.”
“Hey, I want to. I like this. I like being here with you.”
The silence stretched between them, not really awkward but full. Of desire on his end, questions. A deep ache that he couldn’t quite define. He wanted more. He wanted something else. Right in that moment he felt like he might want it all.
But there was a reason he was thirty and not anywhere close to being married. He liked his control too much. He liked his space the way he liked it too much.
It wouldn’t make any sense to pursue something more with Sam. Not when it would ruin what they had. Because it would ruin it. Because he would go nuts about Poppy’s fur. Because he didn’t know how to live with someone. He didn’t know how to share his space.
And then he would be left with the burned-out remains of the most important relationship he’d ever had. All because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.
No. The longing and aching were just going to have to keep on longing and aching. Because he wasn’t acting on it.
He and Sam were going back to normal.
“I’m going to go wash up then,” he said. “Thank you.”
She looked at him, the expression in her eyes unreadable. “You’re welcome.”
“Movie and popcorn after dinner?”
“Sure. As long as it doesn’t star Bruce Willis.”
“I’ll let you pick.”
“Then we have a deal. And I brought movies with me, so don’t think you’re getting off easy.”
Interesting choice of words. And he’d learned yesterday that where Sam was concerned, there really was no getting off easy . Well, it was easy to get off. It was the after stuff that was hard.
But it was an important lesson learned.
“Great. I’ll be down in a few.”
“Great.”
Yeah, things were normal now. And he was glad.
Sam was happily surprised at how easy dinner had been. And they were on to cake and a movie, and things were still easy. She’d picked a rom com because that was what she liked, and since she humored Jace’s need for car chases and explosions on a regular basis, he had to deal with her love of slapstick and happy endings.
They were keeping a healthy distance between them on the couch, and yeah, it was a little healthier than normal, but that was probably good. Because clearly, things were a little more combustible between them than they’d realized. So taking precaution was a good idea, really.
The popcorn bowl sat in the yawning blank cushion space between them—not in anyone’s lap. It was just smart to do it that way. As conscious as she’d been about what was beneath the bowl that last time it had ended up in his lap, she would be a million times more conscious of it now that she’d felt every hard delicious perfect inch between her thighs, taking her to heaven faster and better than any other man ever.
He’d had clothes on, and still, comparing the quality of the orgasm she’d received to what she’d experienced with her exes had been like comparing first class to economy. A superior ride in all senses of the word.
But she wasn’t thinking about that. She was watching a movie and not thinking about it. Because she should be good. She should be satisfied and stuff because they’d gotten all the tension dealt with, so to speak, and now they were being normal.
She took a deep breath and reached for the popcorn bowl, and her fingers brushed against his. She jerked back like she’d been burned, turning to face him, her eyes wide.
Jace was staring straight ahead, his posture rigid, his eyes focused on the TV. He didn’t look like he’d just been zapped by a rush of electricity.
And she immediately felt stupid because when did she react like that to him touching her hand? Never. So why start now? Because she knew how good that hand felt against her bare skin? Because she wanted to feel that hand on her bare breast, and her butt and...and...other places?
No. Surely not. So inappropriate. And she wasn’t being inappropriate. She was being normal. She checked this time to see if his hand was in the bowl before she reached in and took another handful. She was taking no more chances.
The electricity between them was just hazardous. And she hated it. Because she couldn’t deal with it. At least, she couldn’t deal with it in a healthy, mature way that didn’t involve throwing herself on his body and breathing heavy.
It was the proximity—it had to be. It was like cranking up the heat on something that had been on a low simmer for a lot longer than she would like to admit.
And last night it had boiled over.
She turned her attention back to the movie and tried to focus except...oh, that kiss on screen was getting very passionate. And...how had she forgotten this part? How? How had she forgotten there was a shower scene? Of all things.
It was so very bad. She and Jace had just had their own, less awesomely choreographed scene in a shower, and now this was just making her think of that. Well, she was already thinking of it so it was making her think of it more.
She didn’t want to look at Jace. It would be awkward. But the more she didn’t look at him the more awkward it got because she was so purposefully not looking at it him that it was getting painful.
Oh, geez. How had this happened? How had they gone from best friends to this? To her sitting frozen on the couch afraid to move and break the band of electricity stretching around them? Because if she did, she would either snap it and things would just fizzle all to hell with the uncomfortable tension, and he wouldn’t want to sit next to her ever again ever . Or worse, she would set off a spark that would ignite them both and she’d find herself flat on her back again, riding the ridge of his arousal.
But she looked at him anyway, in spite of the inner voice screaming at her not to. She couldn’t do anything else.
He was looking at the TV, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists. She looked back at the screen and her skin prickled. Some serious action was happening there, and she was feeling envious and edgy.
“It’s going to get better, right?” she said.
She wasn’t going to pretend everything was fine—not when it wasn’t. She’d tried that earlier and the attempt had been laughable. He knew her too well. And she respected him too much to lie to him. She respected their friendship too much.
“This?” he asked, and she knew he knew she was talking about that invisible crackle of electricity, the one you couldn’t see. But damn, you could feel it. “I don’t know, Sam.”
“It has to. How else are we going to...live together for the next month? How else are we going to be friends?”
“It’ll get better.”
“But you just said you didn’t know it would get better!”
“I lied one of the times. Pick which one disturbs you less and call it the truth.”
“It will get better.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it will.”
“Or we just have sex and get it over with.”
Jace did a literal spit take with his beer, a fine sheen of moisture coating the TV screen. “What?”
“I don’t know what I just said. I think I’m crazy. Don’t listen to me.”
“You said we should have sex and you think I’m going to just...not listen to that?”
“Well, I hope you’ll write it off as temporary insanity.”
“Like last night?”
“Yes.”
“If we’re still having insanity from last night, is it really all that temporary?”
“We’re within a forty-eight-hour window. I think it is.”
Jace looked at Sam, who was looking back at him with huge eyes, chewing on her thumbnail. A gentleman might let her take back what she’d said. A gentleman might get up and go to his room instead, take the offer off the table completely by removing himself from the situation.
But he’d proved yesterday that he wasn’t a gentleman, and she was offering sex so he sure as hell wasn’t about to start pretending he was one.
“It’s not temporary for me, Sam. I wanted you before last night. I want you now. I don’t know what that tells you, except maybe that, for me at least, it’s not just going to go away.”
“But what does that mean?” she asked. “Does it change things?”
He closed the distance between them and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, drawing her to him and kissing her hard on the mouth. She was even sweeter than he remembered. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice husky. “Does it?”
She bit her lip, looking at him, so close it would be easy to taste her again. “I don’t...I can’t think when you do things like that but I...I thought...I mean, wouldn’t it be better to let things go back to normal? I thought we were being normal.”
“Closing the gate when the horse already got out?” he asked.
“Maybe that’s what it is,” she said, looking down at his lips. Then she leaned in and kissed him, lightly at first, then deepening it, slowly, thoroughly. She slid her tongue against his. Her mouth fit perfectly against his, the rhythm and flow seamless.
It was nothing like other kisses he’d had. Nothing like kissing a woman he picked up in a bar who didn’t know him. Who didn’t know the steps to what he liked or the shape of his mouth. Nothing, even, like kissing a woman he was in a relationship with.
This was different. This was Samantha, and he was so acutely aware of that fact. Because she poured her into her kisses, and he knew her better than he knew anyone else on the planet. Her kisses were sweet, sensual, with bright spots and little points of quirkiness. Nips, licks, the way she sucked his lip between her teeth, things no one else would do.
Nobody kissed like Sam. Because no one else was Sam.
And it was Sam he craved. Had craved since he was sixteen years old and learning just how strong physical desire could be. Had wanted her every day, every hour, every moment since then, no matter how hard he’d tried to pretend he hadn’t.
The freedom now, to kiss her, just kiss her, was like balm on a wound he hadn’t known he’d had.
When she pulled away they were both breathing hard and her eyes were glistening, the confusion in her expression causing a wrenching his stomach. “I...Jace.” She closed her eyes and leaned in, kissing him again. “I need you to promise me something,” she said when she pulled away.
“What?”
“This won’t ruin us.”
“How could it?” he asked, even as he thought of a million different ways. But for him, their relationship was already changed. Because when her lips had touched his a moment ago he’d realized how much feeling he’d been holding back. And now that he’d seen it, now that he felt it, he couldn’t go back to pretending it wasn’t there.
It was too late for things to be unspoiled for him. And maybe it was selfish of him to want to push on through the feelings. If their friendship wasn’t changed forever for her, then maybe he should keep it that way.
But he felt selfish. Completely and totally ungentlemanly. And he was okay with that. Right now, he was very okay with it.
“Sam,” he said, “I care for you. I’m attracted to you. We’ll follow through and see what happens. It can’t ruin things. What we have is too strong.”
“Just sex?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. And he hated the answer. Because he wished he could give her more. He wished he could have more. But he couldn’t make those promises. And he knew Sam didn’t want them.
Sex was one thing, but bringing emotions in—that was one gamble too far. Friendship and sex, a change to excise the wanting that was starting to take over his body, his life.
He was just now realizing that Sam was the reason he hadn’t had sex in eight months. She was the reason none of the women in his life lasted for very long. He couldn’t get over the longing. The what if. And if they could just do it now, if he could take away the mystery, then maybe he could get over that desire. Maybe he could go back to being the friend that he should be.
Yeah, somehow, in his lust-fogged mind, that made sense. A fix-it fuck. That was what they needed.
“Okay.”
She leaned in and kissed him again, that deep, sweet kiss that was like getting hit in the face with all the things he’d always wanted growing up but never had. A home that felt like comfort, spice and love. Companionship. Understanding. A place he could stay and rest forever. A refuge from everything ugly. She was so beautiful, her kiss so intoxicating, there was no room for bad feelings.
He closed his eyes and let it all wash over him, through him. This was more than lust. More than want. More than the F word he’d thought of a moment ago. This was more than he’d bargained for.
And they’d only kissed. But it was a kiss that had altered his whole body, from the inside out.
She pulled away, extending her hand, touching his lips with the tips of her finger. “I didn’t know how much I wanted this,” she said.
“I knew how much I wanted it.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her forward, leaning back and bringing her with him so that she was astride him. She shrieked and braced herself on the couch arm behind his head. His erection was cradled by the heat at the apex of her thighs, her legs draped over his. He braced his hands on her hips and looked up at her, at her wide eyes and open mouth and he thought that if he died then, he could die happy.
Almost. It would be better if he could be inside of her first.
Just the thought made his blood pump hot and fast, made him feel like he was on the edge of losing it. His control, his mind. Everything.
Sam put her hands on his chest and leaned back, tilting her head to the side, her hair spilling over her shoulder, red with gold fire around the edges in the dim lamplight.
The movie was still on, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care about anything right now. Anything beyond what it felt like to have Sam touch him like this.
“I seem to have forgotten how to do this,” she whispered. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“I’m at your mercy, Sam. If this is you forgetting how, I’m in big trouble if you ever remember your moves.”
“Can we stop talking?”
“I’m in favor of that.”
Sam’s whole body trembled as she leaned in and kissed Jace, her breasts pressed against his chest, her pulse pounding like a horse’s that had just escaped through an open gate. It was too late to go back. He was right. She would always wonder. She would always want.
And their little near miss, well, she hadn’t missed and she was sure he hadn’t either. They hadn’t fully consummated, but they had pushed things past the point of no return. So maybe if they pushed further, they would do a full circle.
A little bit of sex, and they would be able to reset everything. Go back to how it was, with the mystery solved. Successful experiment done.
Or something like that. Logic was a tricky thing with Jace’s hard cock up against her clit. Yes, yes it was. He even made her think words like that. Made her feel like a totally different person.
So strange that a man she’d known for almost half of her life was able to open up something in her she’d never found before. It made sense in a weird way, though. That sex with him would have a depth to it nothing else did. Because their relationship had depth to it that no other relationships in her life ever had.
She only hoped she survived this. More than that, she hoped they did.
Jace pushed his fingers beneath the hem of her sweater, his skin hot against her belly. His hands skimmed upward, cupping her breasts, not-so-expertly shielded by her lace bra.
“Oh...that feels...”
“Good?” he asked, his thumb sliding over her nipple.
She arched into him, the motion hitting all the right places between her thighs and thrusting her breast into firmer contact with his hand. “Oh...yes. Oh...how do you do that?”
“What?”
“You make me...” She couldn’t say it. She didn’t say things like this. During sex or ever. But this was Jace, and she was always honest with him. When she wasn’t, it blew up in her face like it had earlier today. So she decided on honesty. “You touch me, and I feel like...one more little brush of your hand will make me come. Just like that. I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s not usually like this for you?”
“No. Finding an orgasm is usually like searching for the Holy Grail. Tricky. Hit or miss. Step on the right stones in the right combination. Either I get there or you step on the wrong stone and I throw a spear at your head.”
He laughed, the vibration hitting her between her legs. “I hope to make it out without getting a spear thrown at me.”
“Your laugh just did more for me than my first boyfriend could do with forty minutes and a vibrator.”
“Do you have a vibrator?”
“Not with me.”
“Damn.”
“Jace!”
“What?” he grinned, wicked, sexy. Oh, he was so sexy it hurt. “You’re the one who brought it up.”
“But you’re...straitlaced and tidy.”
“When it comes to cleaning house,” he said. “But I know how to get my hands dirty when I work. And I damn sure know how to get dirty in the bedroom.”
He sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her long and deep. He was the best kisser ever. It was official. She’d never enjoyed kissing so much. Because when it came right down to it, it was a little awkward and someone else’s tongue was in your mouth.
But with Jace...it wasn’t awkward. And she was happy to have his tongue in her mouth. More than happy.
He lowered his hands, gripped her thighs and pulled the heart of her harder against his denim-covered erection, still kissing her.
She pulled her mouth away, leaning back, trying to catch her breath, while he tried to prevent her from breathing by kissing a path from her neck to her collarbone.
He tugged her shirt up over her head and unclipped her bra. “Oh...yes.” He leaned down and drew one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.
“Mmm” was the only noise she could make. It sounded sharp and kittenish and she didn’t care. He pinched her other nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger and she made the sound again, kneading his back with her fingernail.
Poppy barked and they both froze.
They looked down at the dog, who was looking at them. “She thinks you’re hurting me,” Sam said, studying Poppy and feeling...embarrassed and somehow guilty for exposing her poor dog to her and Jace’s sexual activity.
Poppy wagged her tail and approached the couch. Jace stood, cupping Sam’s ass and holding her up against him. She flailed and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to keep herself steady.
“Mine,” Jace said, his voice almost a growl, the word directed very clearly at Poppy. “Stay down here and sleep on the couch if you want. I don’t care. But she is mine tonight, and you don’t get to interrupt.”
Sam squeaked when Jace turned and started walking them toward the stairs, pausing for a moment to kiss her again, quick and hard. “I’m not sharing,” he said, his tone hard.
It was so stupid, but she felt like swooning a little bit. Thank God he was carrying her because her knees had turned to jelly and she wasn’t sure she would be able to support her own weight.
But Jace could. He carried her up the stairs and she was surprised by how much of a turn-on it was. Such a cliché, but it made her so conscious of his strength and size, of how much of a man he was. Of how much of a woman she was.
He carried her down the hall and to his room, and when he opened the door she was assaulted by the strangest sense of familiar and new colliding. She’d been in Jace’s bedroom before. Lots of times. But she’d never been carried into his room and set down on the bed. She’d never been in his room while he was looking at her like she was dessert and he was a very hungry man.
That was the real difference. She’d never been in his room when she was quite so conscious of the fact that he was a man and she was a woman.
A woman who wanted him. Very much.
There was something extra terrifying about the desire tearing through her because it was directed at Jace. And something comforting about it too.
The entire experience was an exercise in extremes. Good and bad. Terrifying and...well, terrifying. Because she’d never wanted a man like she wanted Jace right now. She’d never trembled with it, had never been so close to the edge from just kissing and a little touching.
He moved away from the bed and pulled his shirt over his head, his hands going to the buckle on his belt. She wanted to stop him. She wanted him to go faster.
Jace was a contradiction, like everything else about this situation. So familiar, yet a stranger. The lines on his face, a face she’d know anywhere, looked sharper, more drawn, his expression much more...dangerous than she’d ever seen it before.
And it was that combination, that contradiction, that thrilled her, that made her feel like she was going to die if he didn’t hurry up and take those jeans off. And a little like she might die when he did.
And then he was pushing them down his lean hips, along with his underwear. And she was looking at her best friend, naked and aroused. For her.
And good Lord, he was the biggest man she’d ever seen.
“You’d think,” she said, her voice scratchy thanks to her suddenly dry throat, “that after fourteen years of friendship, you might have mentioned that you were in possession of what must be record-breaking equipment.” She tried to swallow and couldn’t. All the moisture in her body had clearly migrated elsewhere.
“I doubt it breaks any records. But I didn’t mention it for the same reason you never told me that you have the world’s most perfect nipples.”
“I might have mentioned it if I’d known I had the world’s most perfect nipples.”
“What assholes have you been flashing your breasts at, Sam? They should have told you.” He got down on the bed with her, lying next to her, pulling her tight up against him, his erection hard and hot against her stomach.
He cupped one breast in his large, rough hand, squeezing her gently. “You are perfect.”
She wanted to cry. And she didn’t know why. Except that she was excited, and scared, and no one had ever looked at her like Jace was looking at her right now. No one had ever given her a compliment like that before. One so sincere and so deep.
It made her feel like she was being turned inside out. And in the theme of contradictions, made her want to run from him and cling to him all at the same time.
He moved his hands to the snap on her jeans and undid it, then pulled the zipper down slowly. He closed his eyes and paused, his expression pained.
“What?” she asked.
“I have to catch my breath,” he said. “I...you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this, Sam. What it means to be this close to touching you. I tried not to put you in the middle of my dirty fantasies, but baby, I failed miserably. And this? This is a big fantasy of mine about to come true.”
Her heart felt swollen, achey. Jace had wanted her like this? He’d thought about it? She felt...honored by the realization. And strange too.
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” she said, her voice a choked whisper.
“Never,” he said, his hand sliding beneath her panties. “Oh...damn, baby,” he whispered as he slid his finger over her clit, down to the entrance of her body.
“Jace.” She lowered her head, rested it against his shoulder as his hands created a path of white fire over her flesh, the pleasure so deep, so all-consuming she didn’t know if she would survive it.
She shifted to give him easier access and he slid one finger deep inside her. She bit her lip to keep from making that kitten sound again, but she wasn’t successful.
He moved his hand away from her, cupping the back of her head and kissing her deep. She pushed her jeans down her legs, suddenly unable to take any more barriers between them. No more rough denim. Nothing. She just needed him. Now.
“I’m on the pill,” she said. “And I’m...clean. I haven’t been with anyone in more than two years.”
He nodded slowly. “You don’t want to use a condom? I have them.”
She shook her head. “I know you.”
He let out a long breath, a pained expression on his face. “Sam...” He lowered his head and kissed her neck, her shoulder, her breast, down to her belly, below her belly button.
She jumped at the hot swipe of his tongue over the sensitive skin there. He eased her thighs apart and moved lower, his hands digging into her hips. He pulled her closer, his eyes intent on her.
Now, no man had ever, ever looked at her quite so intently. Quite so closely. It was a little intense, a little embarrassing. But she didn’t have time to worry about the embarrassment because suddenly he was kissing her there, licking her, sucking her gently.
And all she could do was grab onto his shoulders and hold on tight. She was shaking, her entire body on fire with pleasure, too hot, too much, but she couldn’t stop him. She didn’t want to stop him, even though she wasn’t sure she could take any more.
“Like eating a cupcake,” he said, his tone rough. “You have to start by licking all the sweet stuff.”
And he did. Long and slow with the flat of his tongue, like he was savoring her. Like he was having her for dessert. He pushed two fingers deep inside of her while he continued to taste her.
She couldn’t breathe now, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but surrender to the violent need that was racing through her.
“Jace...I’m...I’m going to...” And before she could even say it, her orgasm broke over her, her internal muscles tightening around his fingers, her entire body shuddering with the force of her release.
It was Jace’s cue.
He moved up her body, taking her mouth in a hard kiss while he thrust deep inside of her. She let out a hoarse cry and arched against him, the penetration on the heels of her orgasm so intense she could have wept.
And then she looked up at his face, into his eyes, and she really did shed a tear. Jace’s eyes. His face. His lips.
Jace.
He started to move, thrusting hard, his motion matching the desperate light in those familiar eyes. And every time he entered her, she heard his name again, echoing inside of her.
Jace . Her Jace.
Making love to her like a god. Making her feel things, want things, no other man had ever made her feel or want before.
It was too much. Too intense. The well it opened up inside of her, deep, too deep to be filled.
“Samantha,” he growled, looking at her so intently, like he saw that need in her, like he was trying to fill it. With his body. With himself.
She had to close her eyes. Had to turn her head to the side and focus on how good he made her body feel, on the climax that was starting to build in her. Impossible because of the strength of the one she’d had only a moment ago.
But no. There it was, close, so close.
Jace let out a harsh groan, stiffening above her, emptying himself inside of her. And it pushed her over the edge. Into that deep, never-ending well inside of her. She was falling, but warm, suffused with ecstasy, surrounded by Jace.
And she never wanted it to end. Because when it did, reality would hit. And she hated reality right now.
She clung to him as she fell, and when she landed, the mattress was beneath her, soft and warm, and Jace was above her, hard and hot.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and he rolled onto his side, holding her against his chest. She buried her face in the curve of his neck.
“Let’s not talk,” she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek.
He tightened his hold on her, and she felt him nod his head.
They could talk later. Right now, she just needed to be held. She needed to crawl back out of that abyss and get the cover back on it.
There was no way she could live like this, not forever. Exposed and needy.
Jace had exposed her. And now Jace would hold her until she recovered. Because Jace was her rock. He was her comfort.
A cold feeling entered her chest and she burrowed deeper into Jace’s embrace, trying to escape the chill. Trying to shut out the destructive thought that she might have just put a crack in her foundation. One that she might never be able to repair.