Etta raised her hand to touch his face, wishing suddenly there was more light with which to see the hard angles of his features.
He responded by pushing his lower body to hers, the hard outline of his cock digging into her. Rain fell faster, and she blinked it away, lowering her hand.
“It’s raining.”
“So, it is.” Jason’s callused hand slid around to cup the back of her neck. She gulped and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“Maybe we should go inside. I’m not exactly dressed for a night out in the rain with my white shirt and all.”
“Want to be naked?”
Dear God in heaven, yes! “Only me? Or you, as well?”
His low rumble vibrated down to her clit, and she whimpered.
“Inside.”
Despite the ragged harshness of his tone, Jason was infinitely gentle with her as he escorted her into his home. Two lights came on, and she rubbed her arms in an attempt to not become chilled.
“Upstairs, room on the right.”
Definitely not the room she’d stayed in previously. As she climbed, she glanced back. Each time she did, he lifted his heated gaze from her ass to her eyes.
Her body sang with anticipation as she turned left and entered Jason’s bedroom. Sparser than she’d expected, which said a lot because she hadn’t pegged him as a man for clutter. But, this…made Spartan seem luxurious.
He maneuvered by her to a tall armoire that he opened moments later. In a few tics of time, he handed her a shirt.
“Change, and we’ll talk.”
“Talk?” she parroted, gripping the soft cotton.
He raked his gaze over her, hunger spilling from those blue eyes.
“I’ll be downstairs.” Then, he was gone.
She turned, confused by the entire exchange. A mirror caught her eye, and she walked toward it. Running a critical appraisal over her appearance, she groaned.
“I could win a wet t-shirt contest.” The thin white linen clung to her full breasts, nipples showing as if she wasn’t even wearing the bra beneath.
Turning her back, she stripped off the wet garment and pulled on his warm shirt. The fleur-de-lis emblazoned on the front was gold on the black background. New Orleans Saints written there. It hung to her knees, and she draped her wet items in the bathroom then headed down to the first floor, bare feet making very little noise.
He awaited her in his living room, standing by a large window, overlooking his spacious front yard. Pausing by the base of the stairs, she allowed herself a moment to just take him in.
Jason La Rue was a man she’d never tire of staring at. Her fingers burned to sketch him. She trembled with the knowledge. Drawing had been gone from her life since…
No, she wasn’t going there. She refocused on him. How perfect it would be to put charcoal to paper and allow her fingers to draw him, allow her vision of him to come to light. Place down the angles of his face, the strong nose, and firm lips. The harsh angles and yet there was so much more.
A vulnerability she saw in his eyes that, on rare occasions, took over the hardness in them. Replaced the darkness and, dare she say it, self-loathing. Still, he was a master of showing nothing, no emotion at all.
Which explained why she was reveling in this moment. She tracked her gaze down his back to where his shirt hung partially over the waist of his light blue jeans. An item which showcased an awesome ass and powerful legs. She flicked her tongue over her lips and stifled a groan.
Tapered waist, strong arms. Some men were just lucky with the genes and how they were built. Some turned that luck into an impressive work of art. Jason was one. She wasn’t confident in her body, not when it was next to his.
He didn’t seem to have any issues with your body, her mind chimed in.
He chose that moment to peer over his broad shoulder at her. Just like that, his gaze heated, warming her in turn. Almost the emotion she wanted for his expression to draw. But, it wasn’t passion she sought for her picture. She wanted acceptance and contentment. The pain and anguish she witnessed tore at her like nothing she believed ever could. Not again, anyway.
“You look good in my shirt.” His whisky smooth voice flowed over her like the liquor, sending tingles to all parts of her body.
Guess I’m still a romantic.
“Come here, Etta.”
She moved across the polished floor to stand before him. He reached out, threaded his fingers through her wet braids before wrapping some of them around his hand. He tugged, and a shock trilled through her, hitting her clit as her lips parted. She loved it when he did this, angling her how and where he wanted.
“What you said at the diner. Did you mean it?”
He released her, shadows filling his expression. “About killing one of my own?”
“No,” she said, closing the distance he’d just created to wrap her arms around him. Cheek against his shirt, she distantly recognized it was dry so he’d also changed. “About protecting me.” He remained rigid, and she tightened her hold. “You’re supposed to hold me back. Works better that way.”
The second his arms closed about her, she released a breath she’d not been aware of holding.
“I meant every word.”
A single statement. Four words. And Etta had never felt so cherished in her life.
Chapter Five
Jason loved these moments. Holding Etta in his arms, having her warmth and curves against him. She jogged his memory on how he was human. Reminded him he was alive. He felt.
It didn’t even have to be sex with Etta—although that rocked and was off the charts—it was the connection.
He’d seen red when the Scandrick brothers had pulled their stupid stunt and nearly injured her. Etta shifted closer, and he stared at their reflection in the window. She barely came to his shoulder and, yet, had immense power over him. If she realized it, she didn’t give any indication.
A slight tightening of her arms sent a flicker of a smile across his lips. She was amazing, maintained a grace and elegance about her, even here in some small backwoods Louisiana town.
He stared at their image once more. The hem of his shirt skimmed the backs of her legs, falling to mid-thigh. He’d given her one of his worn Saints tees and realized he’d never enjoyed it more. There was something primitive and erotic to him about seeing her in his clothing.
“Thank you.”
Her whispered words gave him a hesitation. Eyes on how small and delicate she appeared in his arms, he rubbed her back.
“For what?”
“Defending me.”
Rain increased, slamming against the windows. He slid her braids to the side and kissed the soft skin of her neck. I’ll always protect her. Christ, his thoughts may have his man-card revoked, but he didn’t give a damn. This woman was unique, special. Mine.
She trembled beneath his lips, and he flicked his tongue over the pulse in her neck. Her gasp was fuel to his fire. Drifting his hands down, Jason rested one along the small of her back and moved the other over a shapely hip.
He shifted them so her back was against the glass, cooled by the rain. “We need to talk,” he muttered. More to himself in a meager attempt to remain in control. His fingers sought her skin beneath the hem of the shirt.
“So, stop,” she panted. “We can then talk.”
“Is that what you truly want?” Hand between her legs, he cupped her pussy. “No panties? Christ, Etta, you’re killing me here.” He personally had no plans of stopping to talk, right now.
“They were wet.” She gripped his shirt tighter. Her faint words were accompanied by a subtle shift in her hips.
“So are you.” He ran a finger between her slick lips before pushing one deep inside her.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, bucking her hips. “Yes. Please, yes, just like that.”
He added another and used the palm of his hand on her clit. Jason pumped his wrist and fucked her there. Her tight pussy gripped him, and he longed for his cock to be
inside her.
“Want to stop to talk, now?”
“You’re the one who wanted to talk. I want you to fuck me.”
He nipped the side of her neck. “I plan on it. Right here. I’m going to fuck you against this window. Hard. Fast. You’re going to scream my name as I make you come on my dick. Then, I’m going to turn you and put your breasts on the glass and take you from behind, my hand wrapped tight in your hair as I do.”
Her pussy walls clenched as a ragged moan tore from her throat. “Please,” she begged. Her orgasm tore through her, and she came hard on his fingers. He watched her face contort in beautiful torture as it rolled over her.
“Kiss me,” he demanded, slanting his mouth over hers.
Her kiss was hungry and nigh desperate as their lips melded into one another. With his free hand, he undid his pants and pushed them down over his hips. Withdrawing his fingers from her, he circled them around his stiff dick and lifted her with his right arm.
Seconds later, he groaned in pleasure as he slipped into her heated core, her slickness drawing him in where he’d longed to be since they’d gotten home.
Home? Hell yes, he thought of this as a home with her there along beside him. Not just a place to put his head.
“Jason.” His name rolled off her tongue and hit him like a drug, spiraling him into a world he would do anything to get more of the high.
He pumped into her with the same ferocity as his tongue swept through her mouth, doing as he’d promised, using the window to hold her up.
αβ
Etta shifted beneath his arm, bringing Jason from a dazed state to full alert. Opening his eyes, he did an instinctive and immediate check of his surroundings. House. Bedroom. Bed. With Etta. That last part calmed the heavy pounding of his heart.
They’d eventually made it up to his bed and continued making love, sometimes gentle and sometimes fast and hard, until they’d both fallen asleep. Right now, they lay diagonal on his bed, the covers askew and hanging off the side.
The rain had stopped, and the sun shared its golden glow with his room. Jason yawned and glanced down to the woman sleeping on him. Etta was wrapped around him, hanging onto him like a woman who had no intention of letting go, as if he meant so much to her she couldn’t bear to release him. He didn’t mind; in fact, he kind of liked how possessive she was of him like this.
The sunlight danced along her skin, shining on her black braids and dark skin. He brushed his lips along her temple. Even in the day, she reminded him of moonlight and cherries. A heady combination that had swiftly become his obsession.
She stirred to life and tipped her head up from where she had it on his shoulder to stare at him. A small smile licked her lips, and she tried rolling away. Jason tightened his grip on her and lowered his face to hers, claiming his morning kiss.
“I should get home,” she murmured, busting the bubble of contentment shrouding him seconds before.
“We haven’t talked, yet.” Why was she trying to run away?
“Okay, then. Let’s talk.” She settled back against him, easily calming the darkness within him.
Tucking her head under his chin, he briefly closed his eyes, trying to figure out how he was going to ever let this woman go. He wanted her with him. In his house, his bed, his life.
“This thing between us is good.”
“Stop right there, Jason La Rue,” she said, voice hard. “Think very carefully how you put your words.”
He frowned, and she sat up, tossing her braids over one shoulder. The action exposed her breast, and he focused on the dark nipple with its beaded tip.
“You don’t agree?” He found the strength to tear his attention from the globe and met her gaze.
“Sure, the sex is fine. But, right now, that’s all there is. And I’m not up for a casual thing like this.” She shook her head, reached for the sheet and tucked it under her arms, effectively blocking her chest from his view. “I did it, but it’s not me, and I don’t want to hear you say it would be a good thing. That’s…that’s something I just don’t think I can handle.”
Pain lingered in those words, and he, too, sat, the sheet bunching around his waist. Instead of asking, he merely lifted a brow.
She shook her head and swore. That alone shocked him for Etta hadn’t ever said a curse word as long as he’d been acquainted with her. The woman still says fudge and darn it.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”
She stumbled from the bed, leaving the sheet behind and dashed for the door. Jason caught her before she made it into the hall. Her entire body trembled, and this time, he was well aware it wasn’t from pleasure.
“Loretta?”
“Let me go, Jason.”
Hell no. “No.” With deliberate slowness, he reached out with his foot and pushed the bedroom door shut. “I have three days with you, Etta. Come back to bed and talk to me.”
Her back was to his chest, and as usual, his cock stiffened. Setting aside his lust, he walked them both to the bed. Etta crawled in, wrapped herself in a sheet, and lay facing away from where he would be. Jason didn’t argue that. She was staying; if she felt stronger by not looking in his direction, then so be it.
“I can’t do casual. I need a commitment, and I don’t think you’re ready.”
Okay, so he was wrong about being okay with her not looking at him. He rolled her toward him so he could see her expression. He trailed his hand down the side of her face. “Open your eyes, Etta.”
She did.
One final swipe along her lips and he reached for a braid. “What makes you think I’m not ready for one? I just claimed you as my own in front of the people of Lindsey. Yes, it was at the diner, but this is a small town. I’m sure everyone knows already.”
“You said that to protect me.”
He made sure their gazes were locked. “I protect what’s mine.”
“You don’t want me to be yours.”
He lay beside her, hand resting along her hip, bringing her close to him. “Oh, I want it very much. So much it scares the ever loving fuck out of me. I am human around you Etta. There’s not a lot of room for gentleness where I’ve been for the past few years, and quite honestly, I had thought I didn’t have this ability, anymore.”
“I’m not a person to look for anything with, Jason. I’m not.”
His heart slammed in his chest, and he struggled to remain relaxed. She looked jumpy, as if she’d run the first chance she got. “I disagree. I can’t explain it, Etta. Honest, I can’t, but I disagree with that statement. Why do you think I came to the diner night after night?”
“Food?”
“No. To see you. That’s it. Ever since that first night when you waited on me. Just seeing you brought me out of a dark place.” He flexed his fingers on her, wishing the sheet wasn’t between them.
“We all have demons. I battle with my own. I’m fine with the three days, but I can’t promise you more than that, Jason. You have to know this upfront or I will leave, now.”
“We’ll see about that. Let’s take it a day at a time. Right now, however, we need to finish this discussion.” He inched closer. “Does the thought of me wanting you scare you?”
“In a way, yes. I’m not used to someone like you desiring me.”
He cocked a brow. “Like me? White?”
“I don’t know how to explain it.” She pursed her lips. “You have such a presence, Jason. You command attention when you walk into a room; regardless of whether or not they like you, you get their attention. That’s what I meant.”
“I may command theirs, Etta, but trust me when I say, you command mine.” He leaned in and kissed her. Needing the deeper connection, the touch. When she mimicked it and came closer, his heart swelled. Her words may be that of keeping it just for these few days, but her body said differently.
“Tell me about your demons,” he murmured against her plump lips. He wanted to help her. Wanted to be the knight in shining
armor that slayed her demons. Wanted to chase that haunted look from her expression.
αβ
Etta sat on the couch, knees beneath her chin as she had her hands curved about a mug of hot chocolate. Jason had arched a brow at her request but had made her some. There are times when a girl just needs some chocolate. He’d stepped out of the room to take a call from someone named “Captain Harrington… Yes, sir, I’ll call you Scott”.
This was her third day with him. He’d asked her about what she’d run from, but she’d deflected all the questions thus far. She encouraged him to talk about his time since he seemed a bit more comfortable in doing that than she was to discuss hers. It didn’t take a genius to know he was frustrated with her and the fact she’d not shared with him, but in his way, he’d allowed her to continue to distract him and get him off topic.
Tomorrow, I go home. She wanted a happily ever after, but most people wanted children and a family included in theirs. Even Jason, or so he’d said that he wanted children of his own. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, and she furiously blinked them away. She focused on the muscular physique of Jason as he paced back and forth in his kitchen.
An important call—she recognized the signs. He chose that moment to glance over at her, and her heart skipped a few beats. It didn’t take anything for him to turn her into a puddle of lusting woman.
To cover up being caught staring, she took a leisurely sip of her drink. His smirk told her he wasn’t buying it. His tousled hair gave her heart another workout. He’s going to make a wonderful father. And again, her mood sank.
Buck up; enjoy this last day.
She wasn’t the only one who was observant, for he moved in her direction, concern stamped all over his expression.
“One moment, Scott.” He moved the phone from his mouth. “Are you okay, Etta?”
How is it possible this one man can be so intuitive and gentle yet also be a killer? I don’t know if I can envision him taking someone’s life. Then again, how he’d been in the diner, it had been as if a switch had been flicked, putting away the man she’d known and had come have a great affection for, only to replace him with a stone-cold killer.
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