The Closer You Come - Page 96/119

When she could take no more, her body so sensitive even the slightest breeze from the air conditioner tickled her, she used her feet to push at his shoulders. He raised his head, his eyelids heavy, hooded, and his eyes devoid of color, his pupils so large the green had been completely eclipsed. Tension branched from the corners, as well as from his mouth—a mouth wet with her pleasure.

He straightened slowly. As she watched, he licked his lips, savoring every drop she’d ceded.

“Not done,” he said and slowly undressed. “Not even close.”

His every movement was now measured, as if he knew he’d reached a breaking point and had to make an effort to regain control. But as more and more of his beautiful body was bared, desire was stoked inside her all over again, as if she’d never reached completion.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked.

“Yes. I got a shot soon after I met you.” She trembled, and she burned, and she ached. Empty, she thought. I’m so empty. Have to be filled.

“You want me to wear a condom or do you want me bare?”

“Bare.”

As she watched, he stroked the long length of his erection. “There is no one more beautiful than you, angel. Have I told you that?”

Her trembles came faster. “Jase. Please.”

Maybe it was the needy edge her voice held. Maybe it was the plea itself. Either way, the frenzy hit him once again—only with more force. He grabbed her knees and pried them as far apart as they could go. He positioned himself at her entrance and slammed all the way home.

She cried out, stretched and filled as she’d so desperately needed to be. Knowing there was nothing between them, that the hardness of his flesh glided along the wetness of hers, somehow shredded her control. The pleasure was incredible, accompanied by a rush of adrenaline every time he thrust...and thrust...harder and harder, faster and faster. She bucked against him, her hips lifting off the bed, causing him to sink deeper every time he pushed in, as deep as her body would allow.

The headboard slammed against the wall again and again, the pictures anchored over it rattling. Jase never paused, just hammered inside her with greater force. She would still feel him tomorrow, in every cell of her body, and she would love it.

When he pulled out of her completely, she shouted a denial, even reached for him. He dropped to his knees and licked the heart of her until she began to climax against his tongue. As the first spasms swept through her, he straightened and pushed back in her. His mouth met hers in a kiss that would forever blister her soul. Her spasms intensified, the pleasure too much...more than she’d ever experienced at once...

“Brook Lynn,” he roared, the harsh sound of his voice bringing her back down to earth. He gave one final shove before shuddering and coming inside her, hard.

He sagged against her, and all she could do was hold him close as her mind began to return to earth...to the fears she hadn’t yet shaken. Not completely. She trusted him implicitly in bed, but she was still a little nervous about everything else.

She said she’d give him time, and she would—and she’d never been gladder about something. One thing she’d learned while apart from him: she couldn’t breathe without him.

A dangerous way to feel, but just then, she didn’t care.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

JASE WOKE IN a rush, dead asleep one moment, upright and panting the next. Sweat had created a fine sheen over his skin. He scanned his surroundings—not his bedroom, he realized. Or his prison cell.

Brook Lynn’s room. He was in her bed.

His gaze jerked to the slender body lying next to him. Morning sunlight spilled from the crack in the curtains, illuminating her sleeping form. Sleeping Beauty. Blond hair cascaded around her delicate features, tangled from the clench of his fingers. Eyelashes cast shadows over rose-flushed cheeks. Her lips were still red and slightly swollen from his kisses. Everything inside him relaxed. Back where I belong.

But for how long?

She was scared of him, she’d said. He hated that, but he couldn’t blame her for it. He knew what she’d merely begun to suspect: the absolute utter darkness of his rage. He hadn’t been pushed that far in a long time, but what if she was right? What if he snapped one day and hurt her?

Suddenly sick to his stomach, he rose from the bed, careful not to wake her. She didn’t have a private bathroom, so he used the one in the hall. He found a toothbrush still in its packaging and wondered if she’d bought it for him, pre-confession.

He glared at his reflection in the mirror and saw a well-satisfied but obviously unhappy male. I can’t give her up. I just have to prove to us both I can be trusted.

And he would. No other option was acceptable.

Noise drew him out of the bathroom. The sound of a cat being murdered, surely. But no. He found Jessie Kay in the kitchen, singing while making sandwiches. He paused as she glanced up from frying eggs and frowned at him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I didn’t see your car, and last I heard, you’d gotten the ax.”

Had Brook Lynn told her sister about his past?

Either way, it was time for a reckoning, he supposed. He closed his eyes for a moment—man up—before sitting down at the table. “Beck dropped me off last night.”

“I wish he’d stayed. I needed help painting my toenails.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re getting a little time to ourselves.”

Her frown deepened. “Dude. If you’re hitting on me, I’m going to take this knife and shove it up your—”