Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Scarlet
The hum of the refrigerator fills the quiet as I sit on the couch, recalling how Jesse and I first met, which led me to this point of no return.
It was a ridiculous call out—two grown men fighting over a football game that went into overtime.
It was the sort of call out that too often has peace officers making bad decisions, but having been married to a former undercover vice detective in Dallas, I knew what the effects of true bad decisions could lead to.
This was nothing but people who needed an unbiased third party to help them decompress.
When it was done, and peace reigned once more, I sauntered up to the bar. Ralph greeted me with a grin. “Glad you were here, Sheriff.”
“Always happy to help,” I replied.
That’s when I first saw Jesse.
He’d been slumped at the far end of the bar, nursing his third beer.
I could tell because the amber bottles were all lined up in front of him.
At first, I ignored the pull to head in his direction, but his expression caught my attention—equal parts anger and pain, the kind of weight that even a dark corner of a bar can’t hide.
Against my better judgment, I leaned onto the bar next to him. “Whatever it is, drinking your pain away won’t fix it.”
His gaze snapped to mine, sharp and defensive, but I didn’t back down.
“What makes you think I’m doing that?” he’d asked. His voice low, clipped.
I shrugged. “Call it a hunch. But if someone hurt you, sometimes it’s better to get answers. It’s painful, but it’s closure.”
His eyes sparkled up at me like twin green flames. He sneered, “Certain of that?”
I slid onto the bar stool before admitting, “Went and got them before my ex was sent up for stealing drugs from a vice bust. Needed them for my little girl.”
My answer wiped the arrogant sneer right off his face. Without it, the vulnerability I suspected he was feeling shone through. “Did…” He reached for the water instead of the beer.
I let out a sigh of relief. “Did what?”
“Did the answers help?”
“Not really.”
“Then what do they matter?”
“Because it’s not the answers you seek; it’s truth. It’s part of the stages of grief so you can move on with your life.”
His eyes narrowed on me for so long that I wondered if he was asleep before he stretched out his hand. “Jesse Kensington.”
Taking it, I gave him mine in return. Getting as comfortable as possible with my utility belt cinched around my waist, I called to Ralph, “Can I have a soda, Ralph?”
“One for me too, Ralph.” He pushed away the rest of his beer before asking, “So, Sheriff. It was an ex and a little girl that made you move here?”
His interest started us talking. We circled around to why he was drinking—anger and regret over his father’s actions—until the crackle of my radio put an abrupt end to the discussion.
As I stood, I asked him a question to think about.
“If your father was to die tomorrow, Kensington, how bitter will you become if you don’t resolve what lies between you? ”
After the events of today, I’m grateful Jesse and his father found closure and repaired their relationship. Resting my hand on my chin, the sound of a key in the lock snaps me from my reverie.
My pulse quickens in anticipation.
He’s here.
The door opens, and automatically, my hand reaches for the knife lying just a short distance away. No, I won’t leave my gun unlocked while Rosie’s in our home, but I can arm myself.
I will protect myself and her no matter what the cost is.
Even if it means sacrificing myself.
My thoughts silence when Jesse’s shadow slides through the door. A sigh escapes as I stand and replace the knife in the block. My eye catches the time—just after one a.m.—even as I make my way to him. His arms are akimbo, feet planted. My breath quickens as I walk slowly in his direction.
Neither of us says a word. Despite the fact we could have a parade of ducks in the living room and Rosie wouldn’t stir, neither of us would take the chance. The air between us thickens, swims with need and some undefined emotion.
It’s that nebulous definition I’m not ready to confront. Not tonight.
But soon.
He reaches for my hand and together we take the few steps into my bedroom. Once inside, his back presses against mine. He shifts my hair aside before nuzzling the side of my neck. My head bows forward in supplication, acknowledging his reign over my heart in the only way I can right now.
Jesse’s lips trail down my neck while his arm circles my waist firmly. His arm is the only thing preventing me from falling, with the chills robbing me of strength from this simple caress.
His angle changes, and his lips kiss the hollow between my shoulder and neck. When he reaches that sensitive spot, my head falls back against his. Unable to resist any longer, I twist my face upward to kiss him.
Before our lips connect, I wish I could breathe in his every secret desire. I want to be the person this man leans on in matters big or small. But that’s not meant to be.
Jesse spins me in his arms before backing me up against the bed. “I need you.” His calloused fingers drag the shirt I wear up and off before tossing it away. “Do you want me?”
I thread my fingers into his hair and tug his head down. “Yes.” Such a simple word for such an overwhelming need.
The next thing I feel is the warmth of my duvet at my back before the heat of Jesse’s body blankets me. He braces an arm above me, leaving the other free to explore my skin. I shiver when I feel the contours of his erection against my spread thighs. “I need you, Scarlet.”
My eyes drift to half-mast. “Me too.”
Thank fucking God.
Something inside me unfurls. Maybe you’re being too hasty. But before I can fall into my thoughts, he thrusts his hips against mine. I let out a soft moan. Jesse puts his lips to my ear before reminding me, “Don’t wake up Rosie when I make you scream my name.”
It’s a challenge, plain and simple. Yet it makes my insides quiver.
While he pins me with the strength of his muscular thighs, I feel his fingers deftly working the small buttons of his shirt. “I’ve been aching all day to touch you, to sink back inside of you.” He flings his shirt toward the far corner of the room and lowers his chest to mine.
My head falls back against my pillows as Jesse skims his hands lazily up and down my torso. The years of hard work that calloused his fingers brand me, leaving fire in their wake when he grazes each nipple with his thumb. My breasts rest heavily into his hands like they’re precious weights.
My hips lift into his, aching for more. Begging for more.
I know what he’s going to do next, and judging by the feral hooding of Jesse’s eyes, he’s dragging out the moment.
He rakes his thumb over a turgid tip. “Exquisite,” he utters before lowering his head.
The minute the heat of his mouth surrounds the tip of my breast, Jesse sucks it firmly.
A whimper escapes. I can’t control it any more than I can control my reaction, which is to be as close to him as possible.
I wrap one leg around his strong back, wanting to feel his skin against mine.
I try to wind my legs around him to hold him in place.
Meanwhile, Jesse switches nipples, sending pleasure tearing through my senses. But I push back. “No, Jesse.” He rears back, staying stock-still until I run my hand over him from the joint over his shoulder through the thatch of hair. “My turn.” Then I roll him onto his back.
Trailing kisses everywhere, my mouth spends minutes, hours hovering over the expanse of his chest. When I suck at his puckered nipples, I’m ecstatic when I hear him cry, “Fuck!” The curse is bitten out as his hand slams back against the mattress.
The other threads into my long hair as I trail my tongue down over every box of his cut abdomen.
I can feel him fighting for control. Soon, my tongue is darting along the impossible V a man his age shouldn’t be able to boast of having as I undo his belt and fumble with the clasp of his jeans.
After dragging them and his boxers off, I’m just about to brush my lips across the bead of fluid that’s pooled on the tip when I’m suddenly hauled forward.
“Not yet,” he hisses. “I haven’t dreamed all day for it to be over this fucking soon. ”
Lifting his head, Jesse lays on me a drugging kiss that takes me to a place I never knew I could go, despite the number of times we’ve been together. Tears burn in the back of my eyes. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to recover from losing it.
He rolls us once again, leaving me to feel each and every shift of his powerful muscles. Boosting me until my back is against the smooth wood of my headboard with nothing to focus on but his face, a carnal smile touches his lips. “All day. All I could think of was this. You.”
My eyes close as I try to prevent my heart from hearing his words.
He rolls his bare cock against my naked pussy—contraception something I long ago took care of for both of us—and I moan.
I absorb every single sensation—the feel of his bare chest against mine, the roughness of the hair abrading the inside of my thighs.
His teeth tugging my lower lip down in preparation for his kiss.
When our lips clash, it’s as primal. I draw his tongue inside and take everything I need from him, burying things I know are in my future—hurt, pain.
Separation.
He rips his mouth away. “God, Scarlet.” His head drops forward, breathing ragged. Then his fingers dance easily over the opening of my sex. I bury my face in his shoulder as the shudders of pleasure take over. “I need…”
“Mine,” he snarls, just before he captures my mouth and thrusts two fingers into me.
Shudders of pleasure tear through me. Jesse makes a slight adjustment of his fingers that has me bucking against him, continuing my pleasure.
My clit throbs against the pressure of his hand as each thrust of his fingers causes my walls to clamp down tighter and tighter.
Finally, with a keening sound, I detonate around him.
Even as I come back down to earth, I feel the way his body shudders beneath my hands. I arch slightly away before urging, “Take me, Jesse.”
He notches the head of his cock inside me, his thickness lodging, adding more pressure to where his fingers just brought such pleasure. It’s a feeling of ecstasy, as much from the emotional intimacy as the physical. “God, Jesse,” I gasp.
Once he’s firmly seated, he buries his head and rocks us both, his hips gliding forward and back.
I hold on for the ride as his thrusts take him deeper, impaling me.
My legs tighten around his hips, my arms around his shoulders.
My head falls back as the slickness of our bodies builds.
I’m fighting for each breath as sensations threaten to drown me.
All I can do is grip the back of his head and press my lips to his, holding on for dear life.
The same way I have since the moment I realized I loved him.
I absorb his moans, the furious thrusting. I’m uncertain how he can keep up the pace, but I suspect he’s working out pleasure as well as pain tonight. His hips grind against mine once more before I feel him fall over the edge. He’s panting, head at my breast. “I feel like I just ran a race.”
“Who won?”
“Not sure. Don’t care.” He lifts his head and kisses me before shifting me down onto the bed. “Let me get something to clean up. I’ll be right back.”
After taking a moment to catch his breath, he leaves my bed to do just that.
Once he does, a lone tear falls down my cheek.
His isn’t the only heart breaking in this room.
In just a few hours, despite our phenomenal sex, Jesse will roll into me, kiss me, and tell me he’s leaving before whispering, “Go back to sleep.”
It’s the bone-deep knowledge that after a year together, he still doesn’t feel I’m enough to be seen with publicly.
Silent tears fall down my face. How can I be enough to protect and serve but not enough to love and cherish?
With that thought I doze, still aware that I have two precious pieces of my heart in my home.
At least for now.