Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jo
S ometimes I catch him looking at me closely, introspectively, and now I know he’s imagining the lines he would draw to replicate the image of me he’s seeing in this moment.
The curve of my waist, the flow of my hair across my forehead, or the dimple in my cheek.
When he watches me from across the room, he’s capturing the illustration in his deeply mistrustful and closed-off mind.
I take up space where most others won’t ever get a glimpse.
And it’s a privilege to be his muse.
I shuffle and bounce around all of the bodies in this packed ballroom, making my way toward the man at the center of my mind.
We’re at the elaborate Biltmore Estate again, for an end of summer event that most people die to be invited to, only to see the legendary gardens and historic archistructure.
I can’t seem to care to be here because all I can think about is the man so trapped behind his walls that he pretends to be a villain when he’s really a savior with a bleeding heart.
Lochlan’s sitting at the bar with the rest of the guys, staying as far away from the other guests as usual.
I don’t blame him for it, I like him the way he is in his big, standoffish brute ways.
He can hate everyone else.
As long as he keeps his one soft spot reserved for me.
His grandmother’s ring sits heavy on my finger, and the weight of this predicament hovers over me, but I’ve stopped being concerned about it.
No matter what happens in the future, I know Lochlan won’t hurt me.
“Are we celebrating?” I ask, shimmying between Lochlan and Seiver, where they sit on their bar stools.
They all have shots sitting in front of them.
“Nah, we’re just keeping the bar in business,” Seiver says.
“This is an open bar.”
He shrugs and laughs, getting up from his stool and offering it to me with a sweeping gesture.
“I need to find some grub.”
“Are you going to take your shot?” I set my empty cocktail glass on the bar top, sneaking the cherry out and biting it off the stem.
“I don’t need it.” He holds up his shot glass with his thumb and pointer finger, offering it to me.
“I’m not very good with shots.” I throw it back anyway, my entire body cringing when the bite of alcohol shocks my system.
“Did just fine,” he says, leaning in and kissing my bare shoulder.
“Be careful, people might actually think you like me,” I whisper, placing my chin on my shoulder so our heads hover within inches of each other.
“That’s the point, right, being my fiancé and all,” he whispers against my skin, making me shiver.
He smirks.
“I don’t think anyone is paying attention. ”
“They’re looking at you, I guarantee it.”
“You’re very good at this, you know?”
“What?”
“Acting like a man in love.”
He leans back, and I think I offended him until he hooks his finger under my stool, effortlessly dragging me closer.
“You’re an easy woman to love… I’m sorry your family has made you think otherwise.”
I rock back at his words, stunned by his admission.
Am I that screwed up?
A little kindness and attention shown to me by a man is all I know of love.
“Hey, don’t. I see your wheels turning in that big brain of yours.” He cups my cheek in his palm, and I lean into it.
“I was giving you a compliment.”
“I’m so far behind. I’m not even sure what it means to be in love with someone.”
“You’ll know when it’s right.”
“How?”
“It’ll be warm and easy, exciting but gentle.” He sweeps a loose hair off my cheek.
“You’ll know.”
“More wisdom from your grandmother?”
He chuckles, nodding in amusement.
“My grandparents are all I know of true love, but my grandmother cussed like a sailor, and my grandfather grumbled about her constantly. So it might not have been easy or gentle, but it was warm and exciting. At least the parts they showed Becky and me.”
“Well, you’re better off than I am, then. My parents’ relationship is probably the furthest thing from love.”
“So, search for the opposite of what they have.” He shrugs like it’s that simple .
“You seem so sure that it’s possible.”
“I am sure.”
I stand up from my stool, placing myself between his legs, and flush against him.
His hands envelop my waist, sending a tingle down my spine.
“So, what would you call this, then?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I believe that you’re feeling lust,” he murmurs, watching me under hooded lids.
Lust?
Is that all this is?
This intense need to be near him as soon as my eyes open, and dreaming about him when they’re closed.
Fantasizing about how his lips would feel on every part of my body.
Counting the days until my birthday, but dreading that number dwindling because it means I have to leave.
“What about you? You feel it, too, right?”
He grips my hips tightly, ensuring there is only one thing that I can pay attention to.
His lust .
“You know I do, darlin’.”
I feel the words rumble from his chest, and it makes me want to curl up against him and never move.
“I don’t think I want to be here anymore. Will you take me home?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t loosen his hold on me until I capture his lips with mine.
He won’t take much from me, but he’s greedy with what I’ve already given him.
Any chance he gets to claim my mouth, he does so eagerly and without hesitation.
A flutter of appreciation always fills my belly, and it makes me wonder what other things would feel like…
Specifically, I wonder how they would feel with Lochlan.
The tension grows thicker in the darkened interior of the Bronco as we drive up the mountain.
His hand hasn’t left my thigh, clasping his fingers just below the hem of my dress, inches from the panties I picked out earlier, specifically with him in mind.
My fingers trace the black lines inked across his forearm, paying special attention to each bolt of lightning and every vein.
We hardly speak, and I can hardly breathe because I’m suffocating in anticipation.
What’s he going to do when we get there?
How will I handle it?
Will he throw me up against the car or over his shoulder?
Normally, I’d cry at the prospect of someone lifting me in any capacity, but Lochlan has a way of making me feel petite.
He pulls through the black iron gates, and my pulse batters loudly in my ears as he parks in front of the guesthouse.
His hand slides all the way down my thigh to my knee before he lets go and comes around to my side of the car to open the door for me.
As soon as my feet hit the paving stones, he wraps his arms around me, lifting me easily and walking me towards the guesthouse.
He doesn’t set me down, instead, he collides with my door as his lips crush mine, pressing his hard length against my belly.
I don’t want to just feel it.
I want to see it, touch it.
I want him to take me to his bed and show me how a man uses it.
His mouth is hot on mine, taking, consuming.
I can’t do anything but feel him.
I can’t worry about what might happen next.
All I see is him, right here at this moment.
His tongue teases mine, and I reciprocate, caressing his until he moans into my mouth.
That sound turns me molten hot as the muscles inside of me pulsate.
The new sensation is becoming dangerously addictive.
“Lochlan, I want more,” I strangle out between his open-mouthed kisses.
His lips drag across my jaw and down to my neck, tasting me, biting my sensitive flesh.
Except, he stops at my collarbone and works his way back up, forcing a whimper from my throat.
“More, more than this.” I gasp when he bites my earlobe just above my earring.
His exploration stops suddenly, his forehead finding mine.
“I can’t, Jo.”
“Yes, you can. I want you to.”
“You’re killing me, baby,” he growls against my lips.
The door clicks behind me, my body following it as it opens, but I don’t stop kissing him until my feet hit the wooden floor inside because he doesn’t follow.
The lights are too bright in here as I blink up at him, but his eyes are shut painfully tight while he drags lungfuls of air in and out.
“Goodnight, Jo,” he whispers roughly against my forehead.
He kisses me there and retreats…
No, no, no!
I spin, flitting around my room in a flurry of chaos, kicking my shoes across the floor, yanking my zipper down my side, and digging through my suitcase until I find what I’m looking for.
He does not get to do this to me again.
The moon is high in the sky, lighting my path to his porch, and my bare feet don’t make a noise as I bounce up the porch steps, stopping in front of his door.
Should I knock ?
Should I barge inside and demand he take me like a–
“Something I can help you with, darlin’,” his low voice drawls from down the porch.
It’s so dark I didn’t see him sitting in his rocking chair.
I’m much more aware of my choice of attire now that I’m being confronted with my actions.
It doesn’t matter, I’m doing this.
His eyes watch me heavily as I pad towards him in my powder blue silk robe that barely hangs past my butt.
I don’t stop until I’m standing between his knees, gripping the lapels of my robe so he doesn’t notice my hands shaking.
“Why did you leave?”
He studies my face, intensely, not letting his attention fall below my chin.
I’m practically chum in shark-infested waters, and he’s swimming right by without taking the bait.
“You were drinking tonight. I didn’t want the alcohol to inhibit your decision-making.”
“Bullshit.”
His brows tick slightly as if he wasn’t expecting me to argue.
“I could taste the vodka on your tongue, Jo.”
“I had one measly shot.”
“And, before that?”
“I had a Shirley Temple with extra cherries.”
I see it the moment he realizes he was wrong.
I had one shot, but that was it.
I’m not anywhere near intoxicated.
His knuckles tighten around the whiskey glass resting on his knee, the two fingers of amber liquid sloshing gently from the force.
“Are you too intoxicated to make rational decisions, Lochlan?”
His other hand fingers the tip of my robe belt, smoothing the material between his fingertips.
“I haven’t taken a drink since I poured it.”
“Why not?”
“I wasn’t ready to erase the taste of your mouth,” the admission rumbles from deep in his chest.
“Take a drink and I’ll kiss you again.”
A faint smirk tips his lips.
“What’s under the robe?”
He doesn’t wait for my response before tugging lightly on the tie, slowly unraveling the knot at my waist.
“My finely tuned argument for you to take me to bed.” My voice wavers slightly, and I know he hears it because his gaze finds mine immediately.
He keeps watching me as he pulls the belt loose completely, letting the ties fall to either side of me.
The silk drapes open, getting caught on my breasts, but exposing my bare belly and the matching blue panties underneath because I wasn’t brave enough to go completely nude.
My nipples are tight with arousal, the points visible through the thin fabric make me feel as exposed as I would if I were naked.
When I don’t run away after being revealed, his eyes wander down my body, sending flames wherever he looks.
He inhales roughly, making his nostrils flare when he spots my panties, gripping the arm of the rocking chair in his free hand to hold himself back.
I’m so tired of the restraint.
I pluck the glass off his knee, taking two steps back to lean against the porch rail, and letting some of the moonlight drift across my bare skin.
“If you’re worried about the taste in your mouth,” I start, taking a small sip of his drink that burns all the way down.
“Taste it on me.”
He’s up and out of his seat before I can set the glass down on the railing beside me, grabbing my head between his hands and kissing me brutally.
His body forces its way between my thighs, crowding me until I’m sitting atop the wooden rail.
“You’re gorgeous, Jo. So, God damn perfect.” He peppers praise between his hot, open-mouthed kisses, making my head spin.
“You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You think so?”
“Darlin’, I think you’re God’s gift to this earth. A mirage of hope to be dangled in front of sinners like me.”
“But, you weren’t guilty.”
“Doesn’t mean I haven’t sinned.” He kisses my jaw and the soft spot under my ear.
“You’re a good man, Lochlan,” I insist breathlessly.
“You might change your mind if you knew all the things I want to do to you.”
I shake my head.
“Do it, do it all.” I curl my fingers into his hair, forcing his mouth to mine again, giving him everything I have.
His hands find my waist, touching my nakedness for the first time, and making me gasp.
“More,” I beg, but his fingers only tighten, and I pull back, forcing him to look at me.
He sees the sadness on my face, and I can tell he can’t stand it.
“Whatever happens between us, I need you to promise me something,” he whispers, his forehead pressed to mine.
“Anything.”
“You won’t let this hold you back. Whatever happens, you leave this place behind after your birthday. ”
I search his eyes, wondering why he’s asking this, but…
“I promise.”
He picks up his whiskey glass, and I think he’s going to take a drink, but instead he tips the glass, letting the remnants trickle onto my chest.
It makes me shiver as it travels down my sternum and the center of my stomach, only stopping once it reaches the cotton fabric stretched across my hips.
He lobs the glass over the railing, abandoning it in the bushes beyond before his mouth descends on my chest, tasting and sucking the liquid off my skin.
Another gasp escapes me when he moves lower to the space between my breasts.
His tongue continues along the path of alcohol, swiping over my diaphragm, cleaning the evidence away before he moves lower, sucking the soft skin above my belly button into his mouth.
I don’t know what a hickey is, if what he’s doing will leave a mark, but I hope it does.
His tongue swirls into my belly button, and I cry out in surprise.
“One word and I stop, baby.”
“No, don’t stop,” I plead, widening my legs to make room for his shoulders as he kneels between my knees.
He tastes the skin above my panty line, and I can feel my legs trembling, but not in fear.
In anticipation.
Then he does something completely unexpected.
His nose presses into the cotton right above my center and he inhales, dragging the tip along my slit.
I’m too shocked to gasp or utter a single noise.
My head rocks back when his tongue follows the same path over my panties, his warmth soaking through the thin fabric, molding it to me .
His lips skim the exposed skin right above the tiny little bow at my waist before taking it between his teeth, and tugging it slightly until the dampened cotton caresses my sensitive flesh.
“Oh, fuck,” I mutter, breathlessly.
Then he kisses my clit and a strangled sound escapes me.