Chapter Seventeen

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The late afternoon sun was casting some shadows across the road as Jesse drove, the silence between him and Lauren thick but not uncomfortable.

She stared out the window of his truck, her expression distant, her body slumped with exhaustion.

The events of the day had left her hollowed out—raw and worn thin.

Jesse knew that feeling too well.

Just minutes earlier, Hallie had ordered them both to go home, not that either of them had the energy to argue about that.

With the CSIs still combing through Lauren’s street and her house unsecured with the window Reggie had no doubt broken to lure her out, Jesse hadn’t hesitated.

He had gotten Lauren out of the station and started the drive straight to his place.

The truck rumbled up the driveway, the tires crunching on the gravel as they pulled up to his house on the edge of town.

It sat on several acres, tucked far enough from the road to give him space—and the kind of quiet most people wouldn’t notice until it was gone.

The land stretched out wide, dotted with live oak trees and the faint outline of his horses grazing near the back pasture. No neighbors. Just open sky and space.

Lauren barely reacted when he parked in his garage. She’d been silent since they left the station, her shoulders tight, her jaw clenched like she was holding herself together by sheer will. Jesse didn’t push her.

“Come on,” he said softly, getting out and circling around to open her door.

She nodded, sliding out of the seat, her movements sluggish as if she’d put her body on autopilot.

He paused his security system until they stepped inside the mudroom, and he immediately rearmed it again. Yeah, Reggie was dead, but he wanted Lauren to feel as safe as possible.

Inside, the house was cool and quiet. Simple. Clean lines, sturdy furniture, nothing fancy. Jesse led her through the open living room to the kitchen, where he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to her.

“Elsie’s okay,” he reminded her, in part to fill the silence but also to get her talking. He didn’t think it was a good idea for her to stay in her head like this. “She’s probably already in San Antonio telling her sister all about her ordeal.”

Lauren nodded, taking a sip of water, her hand trembling just slightly.

“Oh, and you were giving your statement so you missed Hallie chewing Reardon out pretty good,” Jesse added, trying to anchor them in something concrete. “Said he took a reckless shot that could’ve hit Elsie. But she’s not filing charges.”

Lauren let out a breath, the kind that sounded like it had been trapped in her chest all day.

Jesse stepped closer, not touching her yet—just there. Steady.

“You’re safe here,” he said quietly.

Lauren nodded again, but Jesse could see it—the part of her believed it but couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it.

But he’d help her find some peace again. No matter how long it took.

And it might just take a while.

Lauren stood there in the middle of his kitchen, her fingers still loosely wrapped around the water bottle. She looked like she was barely holding herself together, exhaustion etched in every line of her face. The silence stretched between them, heavy with everything that had happened.

“You should eat something,” Jesse said, stepping toward the fridge. “I’ve got—” he opened the door, scanning the shelves, “—leftover chili, some eggs… half of a questionable sandwich.”

Lauren shook her head, her voice soft. “Thanks but I’m not hungry.”

Jesse closed the fridge and leaned back against the counter, studying her for a beat. She needed something, even if it wasn’t food.

“I could run you a hot bath,” he offered, trying to keep his tone light. “I’ve got one of those fancy jet tubs. And—I’m pretty sure there’s a kilo or two of bubble bath around here somewhere.”

That got her. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, faint but real.

Before he could say anything else, she stepped closer. And then closer still. She set the water bottle on the counter and reached for him, her hands finding the front of his shirt as she leaned in.

And she kissed him.

Not a friendly kind of peck either. This was the real deal. French and all. It came with a wallop of scorching hot heat.

Jesse froze for half a second, but then instinct took over. He kissed her back, the heat sparking fast, fierce, like it had been waiting beneath the surface all along.

Man, he wanted this. That was the first thought that flashed in his mind, and he instantly knew his dick had put that notion in his head. Yeah, he wanted this kiss.

Wanted Lauren.

But the timing sucked big time.

That’s why he forced himself to stop. To pull back. That sure as hell wasn’t easy, but he managed to get his mouth a couple of inches away from hers. With their breaths gusting, their gazes locked, his hands stayed on her shoulders, anchoring them both.

“This probably isn’t a good time to land in bed,” he finally managed to say. “And that’s exactly what’s going to happen if we keep kissing like that.”

Lauren’s eyes met his, something raw and vulnerable in them. “It will,” she agreed.

For a moment, he thought that meant she would step back, that she would take him up on that offer of a bath, maybe even the questionable sandwich. But things didn’t go in that direction.

“I need you,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the ache beneath it.

She kissed him again, and this time Jesse didn’t pull away.

Jesse felt the heat build between them, the weight of everything unsaid pouring into the kiss. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer as her hands gathered up fists full of his shirt.

The kiss deepened, grew urgent, their breaths quick and uneven. It was like everything had been waiting—every touch, every glance—until now. But somewhere amid that inferno, a smidge of common sense got past his dick and into his brain.

Silently cursing himself, and his dick, he pulled back again, his heart racing, his forehead resting against hers.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his thumb brushing her cheek.

Lauren inched her face back just enough so that her gaze could meet his. Her eyes were steady and clear. Filled with heat and need.

“Yes,” she whispered. That hurt was coiling through her voice, sliding against him like silk. “I want this. Think of it as something that should have happened a long time ago. We should’ve had that first date sixteen years ago, followed by more dates… and then this.”

She kissed him again, her hands sliding up to cup his face, and this time Jesse didn’t stop her. Didn’t stop his dick either. Because Lauren was right. They should have had this all those years ago.

This should have been theirs.

They moved together, their kisses growing more desperate as they made their way to his bedroom. Clothes became an afterthought, discarded piece by piece. She went after his shirt. Him, after hers. He stripped the top of her. The bra, too.

And, man, he was toast.

Another wave of that heat roared through him as he looked at her naked breasts. And kissed her, taking her nipple into his mouth. He did a whole lot of exploring and not just with his mouth either. His hands got in on that. He wanted to learn every part of her body.

Lauren was clearly on the same wavelength because while she moaned in pleasure from the kissing and touching, she didn’t stay idle. Nope. She got off his shirt, sent it sailing across the room and did some exploring of her own. Specifically, her tongue on his chest.

Yeah, toast all right.

But he kept on moving. Kept on exploring. And the clothes kept coming off. Not with an especially high amount of finesse. He’d likely have a bruise or two, but he finally got rid of her pants.

Then, panties.

And he got another view of the rest of her amazing body. Oh, yes, he was memorizing and cataloging every inch of her. Every moment of this.

Jesse laid her back on the bed, his lips trailing down her neck, across her collarbone, and lower. Then, lower still to the center of all that heat. She bucked beneath him, fisted her hands in his hair. Cursed him.

But he didn’t stop.

Everything outside that room faded away—the past, the fear, the weight of what they’d both carried. It was just them, finally finding something they’d lost a long time ago.

He thought he might finish her off then and there, but Lauren had a different notion about that, too. She rolled over, pinning him beneath her naked body and proceeded to…torture the hell out of him.

No, wait. She was merely trying to get off his jeans, but there was so much rubbing and touching going on that his dick warned him that this could be over way too soon if Jesse didn’t slow things down a bit.

Easier said than done, though.

Lauren was clearly on a mission, especially once his jeans and boxers were off. She straddled, ready to take him inside her when another warning flashed in his head.

“Condom,” he reminded her.

She cursed, obviously not wanting the delay. So, Jesse moved fast. He reached over, fumbling to open the nightstand drawer, and he took out the condom. Somehow, he got it on despite the fact that Lauren had started up the torture again by French kissing his neck.

Hell, the woman knew how to fire him up.

He rolled her over, landing on top of her and pausing just a moment to see if his weight on her would bother her. It didn’t. It really, really didn’t.

Lauren took his mouth again as if she owned it. Which at the moment, she did. Jesse was willing to give that to her a whole lot more. Of course, Lauren did some giving, too.

When he pushed inside all other thoughts left him.

All that heat. All that pleasure. It slammed right through him, and his dick—and every other part of him—was prime and ready to do a lot more giving and a lot more taking.

He tried to stay gentle. Just in case she was more fragile than he thought. But he soon learned that Lauren certainly wasn’t fragile. Or timid when it came to sex. She hooked her legs around his waist and shoved up her body to meet his.

And the battle raged on.

The dick wanted what the dick wanted. Ditto for the rest of his body. But Lauren was on that quest for pleasure, too. She was frantic and hurrying to keep up with the pleasure that was building, building, building inside them.

Of course, they wanted to hang onto that. To ride that sharp edge of the need for as long as they could. To tap it for everything it was worth.

And it was worth a hell of a lot.

So, they moved together. Harder, faster, deeper. Until he felt her body surrender. Until he felt the climax race through her. Jesse saw the pleasure spread across her face, watched her as she gave into him.

Until she gave into him.

Then, Jesse did the only thing his body would allow. He let himself go.

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