by B. Cranford
But not before thinking, I wonder when he’s going to notice.
“I want to be your knight, sweetheart. I want to prove to you that you’re more than worth staying for. I want to be the one you yell at when I work too late and forget to call, because you know that it’s not that I’ve forgotten you, it’s just that I’m a Jackass. I want to hold you at night and wake up with you in the morning, except on the mornings when my fucking golfers can’t keep their pants on.” He rolled his eyes, telling her that, despite all the drama of the past 24 hours, he hadn’t lost his sense of humor. “But mostly, I want to be the one who helps you fight whatever is hurting you, whether it’s out here”—he gestured to the room, and the world, around them—“or in here.” At that, he placed one hand on the side of Jade’s head, letting go of her hand to place the other on her heart.
“I want that too.” Using Declan’s words as her guide, she shifted and shimmied until she was where she wanted to be—in his lap. His hands had fallen away from her head and her heart, and now wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.
His lips were at her ear when he said one last thing. “I also want to know what happened to your hair.”
Jade leaned back, so she could look Declan in the eye. His were full of . . . something, though she couldn’t say exactly what.
Lust? Adoration? Confusion? Hunger?
Could have been any or all of them. But it didn’t matter, because he had come. She’d asked for him, and he’d come.
No one else has ever come.
That’s not entirely true, she thought with a little bit of mischief overtaking her, I’ve come an awful lot.
Oh dear God, it’s like he’s taken over my mind.
Better him that than those stupid demons.
“Do you like it?” she asked, finally ducking out of her own mind long enough to turn her head left and right, giving him a full view of the now-blonde strands as they washed over her back and shoulders. Loose waves gave the hair she’d hidden under the bright pink dye for so long a bounce that made Jade feel lighter. Happier.
Or maybe that was the man currently running his fingers through it.
“Yes,” was his simple reply, which he punctuated with a kiss to her forehead.
Jade thought of the hours spent in her stylist’s chair—Barb, a woman who hadn’t batted an eyelash when Jade had contacted her and asked how, exactly, she could go from her bubblegum pink back to the natural blonde she was.
“It won’t be easy,” Barb had said, throwing words like developer and gel crystals and clear color at her. “And honestly, it might not even work. But there’s a few things we can try. Otherwise, we let it grow.”
Jade hadn’t wanted to wait for it to grow. She’d made her decision. She was ready. And by some miracle—and by miracle, she meant excellent haircare given by a professional—it had worked.
Her blonde hair was back. Jade was back.
Or, more accurately, for the first time, Jade was present and accounted for.
“Why?” Declan’s voice was a little bit rough and a whole lot of sexy. She didn’t need him to elaborate. He knew why she’d colored her hair—he knew about her need for attention—and now he wanted to know what prompted the change.
“It was time,” she shrugged, trying to find the right words to explain. “It’s been so long since I’ve really been me, and . . .”
She let her voice trail off, bringing a hand up to Declan’s cheek. “And I wanted to move on. I think I let everything get to me for so long, that maybe the pink was holding me back? I don’t know. I don’t think I can explain it.” I did it for you. Because you saw past the hair and the tattoos and the piercings. Because you didn’t forget me this time.
Could she say all that? She wasn’t sure. She wanted to. But being open was a stretch. After all, it was only a day earlier that she’d been lying prone on her floor, pieces and pains from her past filtering in like the world’s crappiest highlight reel.
She drew in a long breath and brought her other hand up to cup his face. Tilting it minutely, she made sure her eyes—which were filled with watery emotion—met his stormy gray. In them, she saw him.
And then, she told him her truth.
“This thing with you—it’s still so new. I don’t want it to be tainted by the past. I want to do this with you, whatever it is, and I want to do it as me. I want to give you the me I want to be, not the one I’ve been stuck being for so long.”
Declan’s lips crashed against hers moments after the last words left her mouth. It was a punishing, perfect kiss. It made Jade melt, her body sagging against the one who would be there to hold her up, keep her strong.
The one who proved he could take care of her if she asked. Even when she was giving him lip.
Especially then, she thought, remembering all the times she’d thrown down a gauntlet only to watch him accept the challenge like it was nothing.
He waited more than a year for me to figure this out.
If you weren’t so fucking slow we could have been doing this way sooner, is all I’m saying.
Oh, shut up.
Jade felt her lips curve in amusement as the voices within found something new to fight about.
“Freckles?” Declan’s voice was a ragged, aroused whisper, causing Jade to promptly forget about pretty much everything.
I don’t need to know my own name. He can remember it for me.
“What are you smiling about, sweetheart?” His question was asked in between light sweeps of his lips along the column of her neck. She stretched her head to the side, to give him better access, trying to remember the question.
Then, trying to remember why she was smiling.
Oh.
“Because of you.” She startled as his hands dropped from where they’d been settled on her waist to cup her ass, squeezing as he moved to stand.
“Bet I could wipe the smile off your face,” he challenged, his lips still working her over, heightening every sensation, every press of their bodies together as he made his way from the couch to her bedroom. “Or give you a reason to smile even bigger.”
It was a short trip. Her apartment, one she usually thought of as small, was suddenly the exact right size. Who needed space when a handful of Declan-sized steps could have you beside the bed and ready for . . .
“Fuck me, Jade,” he groaned as she wiggled in his arms. Apparently thinking about Declan and beds gave her body permission to move in his arms, rubbing her aching pussy over his hardened cock.
“That’s the plannnn.” She bit down on her lip and tilted her head, drawing the last word out as Declan’s teeth nipped at her collarbone. “Oh God, please. Please.”
“Begging already? I like this.” Declan pivoted so that he could lower her to the bed, and Jade, more than ready for him, scooted backwards to make room for him.
After weeks of spending as much time as possible at his much-larger place, she was going to have him in her bed for the first time.
Well, the first time in real life.
He’d spent a lot of time making a mess of her sheets while she slept fitfully, waking with her hand in her panties and his name on her lips.
Less thinking about that, more making it happen, Freckles. The voice in her head became his, startling her. Until she realized that the words were his; he was once again drawing her back from the abyss in her mind and making sure she didn’t miss a moment of their time together.
“Clothes off.” His order was given even as he himself followed it, stripping himself down to a pair of black boxer briefs that barely contained his arousal.
She mock saluted him, enjoying the way he laughed with her, not at her. Loving the way he made her feel so . . . good.
And, as she ripped her own clothing off, she thought about how much better than just good he was about to make her feel.
“You’re so beautiful.” The words fell from his lips like he couldn’t hold them back from her. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long, Jay. Completely
mine. Do you have any idea?”
She nodded fervently. “Yes.” She placed a hard emphasis on the word, so he knew. She needed him to know that through all the months of animosity, all she’d wanted was for him to be there. To find her.
To keep her.
Right now, though, she’d settle for him fucking her.
His head shook from side to side. “Not fucking, sweetheart,” he said, making her wonder if he was reading her mind or if she’d spoken out loud without thought. “We’re going to make love.”
Jade broke into peals of laughter at the incredibly corny, deep-voiced way he’d said “make love.” The moment was so ridiculous, yet so right, that she reached out to grip his neck and pulled him forward so their nearly-naked bodies came together in a hot, needy embrace that Jade would have been happy to stay in forever.
“You’re an idiot,” she whispered as she broke the kiss they’d been sharing and made her way across his cheek to his ear. Biting gently on the lobe, she added, “But you’re my idiot.”
“Yours, yes.” He didn’t say anything else, just let Jade lay claim to him, and she rewarded him by sliding her body down, down, down the bed. “Jade?”
She didn’t answer his implied question, preferring to show him what she was about to do. His big body, so strong, so masculine, so much hers, was braced above her, her back pressed into the mattress as she came face-to-face with the erection that was stretching and straining against the material that kept it hidden.
More like face to head, she thought wryly, amused by her own corny cleverness. Without any more hesitation, she pushed his underwear down as far as she could and took him in her mouth. A moan escaped her unbidden and, even to her own ears, unbelievably wanton.
Oh, fuck me. That is so good.
Oh, fuck me. That is so good.
It was a thought that was on repeat in Declan’s head—both of them—as Jade’s mouth engulfed him, taking him deep, sucking hard and long and wet and oh God, oh fuck yes.
She’s going to kill me. What a way to go.
He chuckled at his own idiocy, realizing as Jade’s mouth stopped moving that maybe laughing at this moment wasn’t the smartest thing. “Don’t stop, please, please.”
He wasn’t above begging.
Jade’s body shimmied back up the bed, her blonde head—blonde, sexy as hell head—popped up with a questioning look. “Something funny, Mr. Young?” She blinked innocent hazel eyes up at him, and he lowered himself so that all of his body pressed against all of hers.
Well, almost all. She was still wearing her panties and bra, which was a travesty, as far as he was concerned, while his own underwear was bunched somewhere near his knees.
“I think it’s funny we aren’t naked yet, does that count?” He rose to his knees and back-walked on the bed until he could stand, letting the black material of his boxer briefs fall to the floor. Then, he gripped Jade’s ankles, pulling her close enough that he could take the sides of her lacy pink panties and draw them down her legs.
Her bra soon followed and, instead of bringing them back to the middle of the bed, he grabbed a hold of her hands and pulled her up. Completely naked, his cock throbbing between them, he wrapped his arms around her.
Around his girl.
It seemed like so long ago she’d been sick and he’d been thinking how good it would feel to be able to call her that.
He’d been wrong.
It wasn’t good. It was infinitely better than that.
Jade lay across Declan’s chest, her hair a mess of tangles and odd angles. He’d run his hands through it constantly while they’d made love, the sensation of his fingers skimming through the strands and across her scalp heightening every tingle, every shiver, every blessed moment of spine-stiffening pleasure.
“Are you hungry?” His stomach growled as he asked the question, making Jade giggle.
Giggle. Good God, he makes me giggle.
“Because I am,” he added needlessly, causing more of the girlish sounds to escape her mouth.
“Mmm, yes. But I don’t want to leave this spot. It’s comfy.” She turned her head ever so slightly to lightly lick his pectoral muscle, causing it to give a little jerk. “And tasty.” More giggles. I’m practically a fucking schoolgirl with pretty curls and big eyes at this point.
“You can’t eat me for dinner, Jay. I could eat you though.” Declan’s face transformed into a lecherous expression, eyebrows wiggling, mouth curved into a dirty smirk.
He was playing with her.
And she was loving it.
“Raincheck?” she asked as his stomach rumbled and complained a second time. “I need you to have the energy for all this.” She swept her hand up and down her body, as if she were a model showing off a game show showcase.
“I’ll hold you to that,” came his reply as he slid out from under her and began searching for his clothes.
I’ll hold you is all she heard, the demons in her mind scowling and grumbling louder than Declan’s stomach at the idea they were losing their hold on her.
Still in the bed, her head now on the pillow Declan had been using, Jade curled her body up, wanting to say something to Declan, afraid that it might run him away.
“I’ll never be normal, you know that, don’t you?” She rushed on, not giving him the chance to answer. “I’ll always be a little crazy and these,” she said while pointing to a couple of her tattoos, visible despite her closed-off position and the sheet that ran across her body. “These aren’t going anyway.”
“I don’t want normal, whatever the hell that is. I want you, Freckles.” He’d slipped his underwear and pants back on, but, still shirtless, he lay back on the bed beside her. “Do you need more proof?”
He looked worried, and Jade’s heart thumped so loudly in her chest, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he heard it. “I don’t want proof. I believe you. But—”
“But nothing then,” he interrupted, his voice firm but colored with an emotion that, if Jade had to guess, sounded a lot like love.
Love.
“Let me say this, just so I know that you know. Please?” She waited for his curt nod, the dirty blond of his hair making the gentlest brushing noise on the pillow beside her. “I have panic attacks over things, little and big. I hear doubts and voices in my head. I’ll probably always worry that you’ll leave me, in some small way, but I promise I’ll fight back against it, okay? I saw a therapist once, I should probably start seeing her again. Be that girl who’s always like, ‘My therapist told me . . .’” She’d raised her voice, affecting a girlish, frivolous tone, though anything she discussed with a therapist would be far from. Then she sighed out a deep breath, feeling the weight of her next three words and finding them comforting, not stifling, or heavy, or scary. “I have you.”
“Yes.” It was confirmation of something they both knew was true, and barely made a wave in Jade’s monologue.
“And I have Brighton and Sebas—maybe not Sebastian. I don’t think I can casually chit-chat to my boss about how I’m going to go have a break down in the supply closet.”
“I don’t know, he might prefer it to the sex we had in there.”
Amusement tickled her as Sebastian’s voice slid into her memories. You’re not the one using cum-stained office supplies. “I cannot believe you just said that, but—no, actually, I can believe you said that.” And she was grateful that he had, needing the levity it brought to the serious moment.
She rolled into his body, unable to resist the lure of curling herself around him, stealing his strength and his warmth and his . . . everything. “I—I’ll always be like this. A little bit crazy.”
Declan pulled her in even closer, lowering his voice to a pitch so intimate, so loving, Jade thought she might just melt away. “And I’ll always be right here, a lot crazy about you.”
Seven months later
“Jade?” Declan’s voice echoed through his nearly-empty apartment, bouncing off the bare walls, sucked in by the cardboard box
es left all over the room.
“In the bathroom, one second!” she called back, surveying herself in the mirror and doing a giddy little dance at what she saw.
A woman in love, that’s what she saw. Well, something else too, but she’d wait for Declan’s opinion before she got too attached. Looking around, Jade made sure nothing she’d used was still laying around—the move she and Declan were making was imminent and she didn’t want to leave anything behind.
One more day.
In one more day, they’d be living around the corner from Brighton and Sebastian, in a house they’d bought together.
“Sweetheart, get your fine ass out here already.” Declan’s voice broke through her thoughts about their future and propelled her from the bathroom. Walking into the kitchen where Declan was standing in front of the increasingly empty refrigerator, she didn’t say a word.
She just waited.
“Hey, did we eat all the soup? I think it’s going to be a long night and I want—” He closed the door and turned towards her, his words cutting off as he took her in. “You. I want you.”
Jade laughed as Declan took three stalking steps towards her, his arms then sweeping her up and depositing her barely covered ass on the counter. “What’s this?” he asked, fingering her long ponytail then tugging slightly on the ends. “I love this. I love you.”
Suddenly feeling very sappy, needy and overwhelmed by this man who wasn’t a Jackass at all, she nuzzled her nose against his. He smiled, but didn’t let her get away with not answering. “Well?”
“I love you, too.” And she did. She had loved him even when she thought she hated him, and the first time she’d given him those three little words, his face had softened as he repeated them back.
I love you, Jackass.
I love you, too, Freckles.
“I know that.” He slapped her lightly on the side of her thigh. “So just tell me. What. Is. This?”
“Tar Heel blue. For you,” she responded, bringing a hand up to run down her pony, flicking it around one finger as she reached the end, highlighted the baby-blue color that she’d asked her stylist, Barb, for that morning. The top half of her hair was still the blonde she now loved, the color she considered so very her, the blue layered underneath so that, when loose, it would be nearly unnoticeable.