Then he hooked his thumbs in her panties, and she froze. How could she have forgotten? Her scar would glare, bringing the world rushing back between them. Already tears stung. A band of pain constricted her ribs.
He hovered over her, his brows knit together, his breathing rasping as if he’d shoveled the whole parking lot. “Do you want to stop?”
Definitely not. “No.”
His exhaled enough relief to combat the best Washington storm wind. “What’s wrong, then? What do you need?”
“Nothing. Just don’t stop, please.”
His eyes never left her face as he skimmed her panties down her legs and to the floor. Instinctively her hand flew to her stomach and covered the place where her baby had once rested, where a scar remained.
Jacob’s gaze snapped to her protective hand. His brow smoothed before he circled her wrist and eased her arm away. With one thumb, he soothed the faded incision before he placed his broad palm on her belly. His fingers splayed over her stomach with healing heat. “We’ll find him.”
Determination rang from his vow. She wanted to believe him. Even if placing so much trust in him screamed of losing control, she wasn’t left with any choice. If ever a man could accomplish something through sheer will, she believed Jacob could.
Her hand fluttered to rest over his, linking. Then he joined her on the bed. Dee scooched up the quilt as he shadowed her body with his, finally blanketing her without letting go of her hand.
She gripped his fingers tighter and held on. That connection, something so basic and beyond the sexual, anchored her. Just as his friendship had moored her through a time when she could very well have drifted into dangerous waters. She squeezed his hand. “Make me forget. Make us both forget.”
“I’ll damn well try my best.” His callused hands snagged along her skin with a sweet abrasion.
Dee lost herself in a swirl of sensations, his warm body beneath her fingers. She smoothed over his chest, traced a ridged scar along his arm. She shivered at how close he’d come to dying that day.
His strong, columned neck smelled of wind and musk. She sketched along the muscles on his chest, his abs, lower. As her hand curled around his rigid length, exploring, learning him, she found his need obviously equaled hers.
Jacob skimmed her scar once again, but continued lower until he cradled the core of her. He circled and soothed until she writhed against him. A lone finger dipped and dampened to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves.
So much, almost too much, the intensity built. But she knew where it would lead, or rather wouldn’t, and she didn’t want their time ruined by his disappointment.
She clasped his wrist, tugging his hand upward again.
Jacob nuzzled her neck and tugged back. “Not yet. Not until you’ve—”
“It’s okay.” She rocked her hips, seeking to distract him. A hint of desperation leaked into her voice. “We have all night.”
He pulled back and braced on both forearms. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I’m just ready.” Shards of inadequacy pelted her, and she tried desperately to dodge them. She didn’t want Blane’s insults to have power over her ever again, especially not now.
“Like you said, we have all night.”
His hand soothed her again, sending tantalizing yet frustrating ripples through her. She couldn’t bear to see his disappointment, so she turned her face away before she spoke. “Jacob. I can’t. Okay? I don’t, uh, finish.”
The stroking stopped, and she wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or not.
“You’ve never had an—”
“Jacob—” She clapped her hand over his mouth. Heat crept up her face. Why couldn’t she have been more tempting, more anything to have lured him past this point before he found out? “I guess that’s something else I forgot when I was throwing myself at you. It doesn’t have to make a difference now.” She teased her fingertips along his back, over his buttocks and up again. “Being close to you, that’s what I want, what I need. It’s enough for me, really.”
During her whole rambling speech, he stared at her with those piercing eyes that saw straight to a person’s soul without allowing a reciprocal peek. “Let me ask you something.”
Why did they have to talk? “What?”
“Does this feel good?” The backs of his fingers flicked over her breast. “And this?” He reached lower. “Does it?”
“Yes,” she gasped, “but—”
“Then why rush?” He kissed her protest away. “You say it won’t finish the way I think it will. So? If you’re enjoying it, don’t push me away just because of what you think I expect.”
It made sense. If only she could believe he meant it. Knowing Jacob, he probably thought he could succeed where eight years in a marriage bed hadn’t. She cringed, envisioning the realization that would steal over his face as minutes passed and he accepted that he’d failed. She’d failed.
He breathed against her lips. “Trust me.”
She wanted to do just that and simply bask in the warm tension building from his persistent touch. Where Deirdre would insist he stop, Dee would have taken a risk and let him continue.
How very much she wanted Dee’s boldness. She could have it, for tonight with Jacob. Dee was the woman he knew, the woman he’d taken to bed.
She closed her eyes, forgot about passing minutes or possible goals and savored. She gathered every sensation like a treasured gift, the glide of fingers, the caress of lips along her ear as he whispered all the ways he longed to love her body.
Release crashed over her without warning. Like a wave slapping her, almost painful in its intensity, leaving her struggling for air. Her back bowed off the bed, driving his hand harder, his finger deeper and sending a fresh wave pulsing through her, building until her cries of pleasure rode on the last rush.
Reality returned in increments. The stars faintly visible through the swirl of snow along the skylight. Jacob sweeping her hair away from her face. His leg nestled between her thighs, a heavy, delicious burden.
Dee loosened her fingernail-deep grip on his hip, and his mouth tipped in a hint of a smile. His eyes cleared, and he let her in for a rare look that said far more than words. Her friend had returned. Only a hint of male pride gleamed in his eyes, mingling with happiness for her.
When her heart had slowed to something resembling a slow jog, she squeezed his hand. He dropped a kiss to her forehead and rolled away. Dee almost shouted her frustration until she saw him delve into his bedside table and pull out a small, square cellophane packet.
A totally irrational wad of jealousy punched her. She chewed the insides of her mouth to keep from asking him whom he’d bought them for.
Jacob glanced at her. “After that night in the back of my truck.”
“What?”
“I bought a box the next day. I told myself we shouldn’t end up here. Having these around still seemed smart.”
“Very smart.”
He sheathed himself and tucked her beneath him again. With the quilt under her, Jacob over her and the stars glimmering through the skylight above, Dee couldn’t help but remember that kiss. How much he’d needed her then. How much they needed each other now.
Eyes locked on each other, he entered her slowly, as her body stretched to accommodate him. He stilled, bearing the bulk of his weight on his forearms. She gazed up at him, almost seeing him anew during that instant of being joined for the first time.
Then he moved, and she lost the ability to think about beginnings—inevitable endings. So long. It had been so long, if ever, since she’d felt such an incredible heightened sense of awareness. Rather than forgetfulness, she’d found an awakening that surpassed anything she could have wished for.
They found the rhythm unique to their union, neared the edge and fought it off, prolonging the sensations like a gift that would be snatched away once they accepted it.
Finally his heaving chest, their sweat-slicked bodies, signaled an end, and she almost mourned the pleasure she knew was an instant away. Again, his hand found her, circled, a single nudge sending her spiraling until she felt as if she’d flown through the skylight, free-falling into the night.
With a hoarse shout, he joined her. She reached to hold his hand as her body accepted him.
She feared her heart wasn’t far behind.
With Dee’s sleeping body curled against him, Jacob could almost allow himself to forget they had to put their feet on the floor and resume life in a few hours.
Gently he loosened her grip on his hand. When she didn’t stir, he draped the quilt over her arm and up to her creamy, bare shoulders. He skimmed his thumb along her collarbone, to the hollow of her throat.
Already he stirred again at even the thought of crawling beneath that quilt and losing himself inside her. If he thought once more would satisfy his need for her, he would. But he knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Jacob snatched his hand away and shoved to his feet.
It was only supposed to be about sex, a release, a momentary escape for both of them. Of course, it could have been all about sex for her. How clearly he could see her beautiful face flooding with surprise just before shifting to lazy-lidded pleasure.
He bit off a curse. The last thing he wanted from her was gratitude for introducing her to good sex. Great sex.
His need for more told him he’d already gotten too close. She’d become too important. He should back up, gain distance and perspective for her sake as well as his.
Jacob whipped a pair of sweatpants off the back of a chair and slid into them. Each step from the loft should have offered him the distance he needed. Instead her every breath whispered through the room, tempting him. Even the skylight seemed to silhouette her in some center-stage way.
Where did they go from here tomorrow?
Thinking of Chase in lock-up for the night, Jacob scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. His hormones had been so tied in knots over Dee, he’d let his guard down and messed up with Chase. His hormones could cost him focus in finding her child.
Still, he couldn’t turn his back on her now. Jacob dropped into the recliner and tapped the telephone beside him.
He wasn’t sure he could be the kind of man she wanted long-term, but he could sure as hell help her with her here and now. No more waiting to get back on the job. With sunrise nearing, it was time to tap into the extra help his military network could provide.
Chapter 13
S itting on the edge of the bed, Dee faced the morning with a mix of anticipation and dread. She clutched the telephone after speaking with her parents in Colorado about taking a photo to their local police station. She wanted to believe she would be holding her child just as tightly by the end of the day.
Through the skylight the clouds hovered above, heavy and gray as the first morning light fought the overcast conditions as fiercely as she struggled to keep her mood positive, to hold on to the comfort she’d found in Jacob’s embrace through the night.
He paced in the hall, cell phone to his ear. He moved with tense, purposeful strides, freshly showered and wearing his flight suit for a trip to the base after they spoke with the police. He’d already been on his cell when she woke up, still talking when she took her shower and then called her parents. She itched to know what he’d uncovered.
Replacing the cordless receiver into the charger, she listened to Jacob’s end of his cell phone conversation.
“They’ve updated the APB on Lambert, including the boy?…Good…Uh-huh…Even better.”
Hope surged through her. She tugged her pink sweater over the low waistband of her jeans, the cashmere a poor substitute for Jacob’s embrace, and padded down the loft steps.
“Any hits from the ferries at Puget Sound?” His gaze flicked over to her, lingered for a moment, smoked with a banked fire, then his attention returned to the conversation. “Uh-huh. I’ll see if she can come up with anything more about his plans to cross the border.”