Chapter 12 #2
Jonah didn't drench himself in cologne, not like Ray did. His job was to lurk in the shadows. He didn't need anything dragging eyes to his enormous height and strength. But as he invaded my personal space, I breathed in crisp mint. Cool, fresh. Like he'd been chewing gum recently.
Would his tongue make my clit tingle?
I smothered the outrageous thought, but it came back with friends. Delicious, lusty thoughts that made me press my thighs together.
"Are you trying to flatter a smile out of me?"
"Is it working?" His lip quirked, and that changed his entire expression. The blank mask cracked, and so much playfulness lit up his face.
"I'll consider it."
"Why were you crying? The chief, or Raimondo?"
The clench of his jaw surprised me. Like he was trying to tamp down jealousy.
"The chief was nothing." That hurt me to say, and I apologized to Beck in my mind. "I think bigger things have happened than anything between Ray and me. There's a severed hand sitting on my counter."
God, I hope blood came out of marble.
"Yeah, of course. I forget this is all overwhelming for you." He tried to pull back, but I kept grip of his muscular arms.
It's not. None of this is new to me.
Guilt chomped away at my insides. I'd been lying for so long it made me sick to keep it up. My tongue lay limp in my mouth. I didn't want to confirm his thoughts.
Of existing between the lines of truth and falsehoods.
Desperation for something real propelled me forward, and I melded my lips with his.
I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't Jonah wrapping his arms around my waist and forcing me to straddle him.
Not that I was complaining. His lips slid across mine, and he angled his head.
A soft moan escaped me, and he ate it up.
"I've wanted to do this for so long," he whispered as his lips drifted to my neck.
He sucked hot, wet marks across my collarbone.
I rocked my hips, groaning as he thickened against the juncture of my thighs.
My ribs loosened, and I felt like I could breathe again for the first time in months.
Jonah gripped my ass and glued me to his cock.
Even through his slacks and my panties, the hard ridge scorched.
"Are you going to kiss me for hours?"
"As long as you don't ghost me again." Jonah's voice was rough, and when his mouth found mine again, it blistered with want. His tongue swept inside, and lust made me dig my nails into the back of his skull. Demanding everything.
Jonah stripped away every hurt, every lie, and I felt like I was tasting his soul when we shared a breath. His fingers grazed the edge of my panties, and I groaned into his kiss.
"I changed my mind. No more kisses," I begged, and he nipped my lower lip.
The sting brought a jolt of clarity through the foggy haze. Jonah slipped his hand between my legs and pressed his thumb against my cotton-covered clit. I arched at his touch. Electricity shot down my spine.
"No kisses? Is this what you want?" His thumb rubbed in a gentle circle.
My panties were damp, and I knew he felt it.
I nodded, grinding down on him with open-mouthed want.
Jonah threaded his hand through my hair and brought me to his mouth.
Kissed me until my lungs burned. That slow death they always talk about?
This was slow torture. Each aching kiss inched me closer to oblivion.
"Don't you want to fuck me?" I pulled away, gasping.
I undid a few buttons on his shirt, revealing his sculpted, thick chest. My heartbeat was erratic against my ribs. Adelaide and Ray were outside, but I couldn't stop.
I needed Jonah more than air right now.
Death by kissing. I'm ready, take me, Grim Reaper.
"Did you think I meant only kissing these?" He nipped my lower lip again. "How does your pussy taste, Lara? Want me to find out?"
His thumb pulled away, and I whined, chasing the touch. Every inch of my skin was on fire. Tattooed by the echo of his touch. Jonah might have been quiet in public, but his hands were telling stories. I was damn well ready to listen.
"God, yes."
But I couldn't help myself, needing his mouth on mine again.
We tasted like mint together. My head spun as he took me out of it.
How could I go back to existing without this euphoria?
I needed a Jonah on tap in my bedroom, just hours of languid, long kisses.
His sensual mouth teased, but his hard cock promised desolation.
"Please, Jonah. You feel so good. I need you so bad."
If we stayed like this any longer, I might combust. Jonah growled low in my ear, and his touch became more fevered. He needed me too. How had he hidden this so well?
Adelaide's cry of disgust interrupted our frantic interlude when the door swung open. "Oh my god." Her choked cry was like an invisible force thrusting Jonah and me apart. "What the fuck?"
I rolled off Jonah with a gasp and hit the floor with a thump.
"Adelaide, it's not what it looks like."
I didn't know why I said it. There was no hiding the flushed cheeks, rumpled hair and throbbing heat that drained away in mortified silence. Jonah gave me a hungry once-over before striding from the room. He didn't even say a word.
"You're not eating the face off my bodyguard?" Adelaide peeked through her fingers.
Her cheeks were as red as mine. I waved her in. In the cold aftermath, Jonah joined the pile of my problems. I didn't like the look of him there, teetering on the tall tower of lies and shadows.
He'd given me a taste of something different, and I wanted more of it.
Just one more person I needed to beg forgiveness from.