Chapter 11
Jasmine
“I didn’t explain myself yet,” Steve said. “And I’d like to because this—us—is too important to mess up, Jasmine.”
I sucked in a breath and listened.
“Before I join you in bed, before I even start building that new life with you we talked about at dinner, I need to talk to the boys—all of them. About us. I’m sure the girls all have stars and hearts in their eyes, and they think they’re ever-so brilliant, playing us both as they did these last months.
But that’s not how I want to do this relationship with you.
You matter too much for any kind of subterfuge. ”
If that wasn’t the sweetest thing! I nodded to let him know I was listening.
“I guess what I’m saying is that if you can accept me and my brokenness…”
I reached over, running my good hand down his arm. “You’re not broken. A bit banged up by life, but by our age, all the interesting people have got dents.”
He grinned. “I find you incredibly interesting.”
I rolled my eyes even as my lips quirked up. He took my uninjured hand and cradled it in his.
“If you can accept me as I am and still find me attractive enough, well, then I need to be honest with the kids. I want to tell them what we mean to each other and reassure them that we’ll work hard to remain and maintain our family.”
I pursed my lips, thinking back on his former comments. “Is accountability a show of responsibility or a way to keep you on the straight and narrow, as you said before?”
His gaze was direct, his expression stern. “They deserve our honesty.”
I flinched. “Okay, that shot hit its mark a little too well. I haven’t always been completely honest with my children, and those lies have had consequences for all of us. That makes sense.”
He sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that—not as an attack on you.”
“Well, you don’t have to sound so sanctimonious.” I clapped both hands over my mouth, my eyes going wide.
Instead of snapping back at me as I expected—like Laurence would have—Steve chuckled. “There are your claws. And I was thinking about Nash and me.”
I dropped my hands and then my gaze. Not everything’s about you, Jasmine. “Oh. Right. Yes. You want to continue to build trust with your son.”
He spoke to the guard at the front gate with familiarity, and a few moments later, he pulled into my driveway.
“I do. Yes. With him.” He used his knuckles to lift my chin. “And with you, too, beautiful.”
My lips curved at his endearment. No one called me beautiful, except my kids, for a long time. I liked the endearment, how it made me feel. There was a heady power to knowing I held a man’s attention, his passion.
“You matter to me, how you regard me matters. It’s what got me through those early years as Nash’s bodyguard, you know.”
I stared at him, wide-eyed with shock and arousal. “I never did…”
“You made me feel worthy of Nash’s affection; you made me realize I had skills and insights to offer. Thanks to your belief in me, I became a better man—one that you and Nash can be proud of.”
High on that rush of emotions Steve had conjured, I leaned in and brushed my lips across his. He hummed low in his throat, more like a purr, then tugged me closer and deepened the kiss.
I loved how Steve tasted: hints of mint but always with a wildness to him. I flicked my tongue along his, my palm cradling his cheek.
He pulled back in increments, eyes closed, blond lashes resting against his cheeks. When he opened his eyes, the intensity of his stare rocked me.
“Good night,” I murmured.
“Night, my lovely Jasmine.”
He opened his door, no doubt to walk me to the porch. Warmth built in my chest. Steve was such a good man, a thoughtful one. I placed my hand on his forearm.
“Don’t.” My voice cracked. “Don’t get out. Please.”
“I can’t let you walk into that house alone. Not after that jackass nearly…No, I can’t do that, Jasmine. It goes against everything in me—that’s not being a man, your man, if I don’t protect you. Maybe that’s antiquated and unnecessary, but it’s how I feel.”
“My house is under constant supervision. I get alerts when a leaf blows across the porch, so I know it’s fine.”
At first, I’d been nonplussed by the tool Carter had chosen, but now I found the additional level of security comforting.
“But that’s not what I meant,” I said. “When I asked for space.”
I cleared my throat even as I shivered. This level of raw honesty sometimes left me uncomfortable—I’d been taught not to rock the boat, but I didn’t want to put Steve in a position that left him feeling hurt.
“I want you in my bed, in me. That’s why I asked you to stay—as you know. And if you kiss me like that again, I’m going to insist you come inside so we can finish what you started.”
My fingers tightened on his arm as I implored him to understand how close I was to losing control. Much as I wanted to savor the delicious arousal spiking in my veins, I feared it and wanted to quash it more.
“You’ve explained your reasons for not wanting to go that far now, and I respect them.
This is the only time in twenty years, besides our night, that I’ve felt lust. Deep, tingly desire that I know will turn into toe-curling orgasms.” I sucked in a breath, stared into his darkening eyes.
“So, please, don’t tease me with something you aren’t planning to offer. ”
He sat stone-still for a moment, then reached out and tucked some strands of hair behind my ear before letting his fingertips graze my cheek. They fell to his thick thigh.
“Hell, Jasmine.”
“Yeah, it is,” I said.
“I want to kiss you even more now.”
“Don’t. I might explode from lust.”
I bit my lip, worried I’d offered too much information. Steve chuckled, but it was a dark, sexy sound that tingled through me.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” Steve asked, glancing around the space.
“I’m sure.”
He sighed. “Get your ass in your house, woman, before I break my self-imposed vow.”
So now I knew how much our relationship mattered to him—quite a lot. That was good because I felt the same. I’d lusted after Steve Lincoln for years, but now…
Now, I wanted him with an unmatched desperation. We stared at each other, the silence thickening, breathing in lust-laden hormones. My gaze dropped to his lips, and we both moaned. From looking.
He leaned in and I did the same. Our lips nearly touched and a zing of electricity lit me up.
“Jasmine,” Steve groaned.
Sticking to his promise mattered to him, so I had to help us both make that happen.
After fumbling with the door handle, I hopped out of the car and blew him a kiss.
He pretended to catch it and slam it into his chest. I giggled as I made my way up my steps and into my dark, lonely house without a single thought about last week’s assault.
For the first time in days, I didn’t bother to flick on every light and peer behind every door and in every closet.
I didn’t need to fear anything with the memory of Steve’s smile buoying me up the stairs and to my solitary bed.