“That’s a romantic notion,” he said, sounding uncomfortable.
“Not at all. I didn’t say it was a good thing. Everyone needs help sometimes, dealing with life’s burdens. But you think you can carry them alone,” she said bluntly.
“Garrett was saying something similar. Maybe it’s true, but it’s who I am.”
“Losing your sight must have been even more challenging in that respect, making you depend on others for a change. Like having to call me when you hurt your foot.”
He was quiet for a few beats, and she wondered what he was thinking.
What Jonas was thinking was how he was in way too deep, and how he had really messed this up. He was falling for Tessa—hard—and his being here was a lie, at least to an extent.
He was a coward. He hadn’t told her about her father’s call because he knew it would be the end for them. But he had to make things right.
He’d take this time with her, right now, and then he’d go, he knew, feeling her hands slip over him. He wasn’t strong enough to leave now, but soon. And he’d make it right, he vowed to himself, one way or another.
“Sit up a bit,” she said, and they maneuvered so that she was on her knees behind him.
“What are you doing?”
“I have some massage oil you’re going to love,” she told him, and the same scent that was in the bath was suddenly twice as pungent as her hands made their way expertly over his back and shoulders, massaging and working each muscle individually.
“Wow, you’re good at that,” he sighed, his heart aching while his body sang. “I don’t care what scent it is, just don’t stop.”
“I love touching you,” she said close to his ear.
He felt her breasts press into his back as her arms reached around and held him in a curiously tender gesture.
“I love you touching me,” he said roughly.
A second later she was sitting in between his thighs, and she took his hand, putting some oil into his palm.
“Do me,” she said sexily, and he groaned.
“With pleasure.”
He did as she did, smoothing the oil everywhere, seeking out any tension, knots or spots that he could massage to tenderness, slipping around the front to do the same to her breasts. He ran his hands over her to memorize every inch of her, hoping that when all was said and done, this wouldn’t be the last time he touched her.
“I don’t think I can ever take a bath alone again,” she said, leaning back against him.
“Time to get out?” he asked, kissing her neck.
“Absolutely,” she purred in a vixen voice that turned him on even more.
She handed him a towel and helped him out. Somehow, having Tessa assist him didn’t bother him as much now. He didn’t feel needy or dependent, but connected. And any excuse to touch her was okay with him. They dried each other, touching and driving each other crazy in the process.
“Bedroom,” Jonas growled as she licked a straight path down his chest in a straight line to his erection.
“Come with me.”
They walked in hand in hand, and Jonas found his way to the bed, sliding up to sit on the pillows, wondering why she didn’t join him.
“What are you doing?”
Then she was there, straddling him and rubbing her finger along his lips.
“Taste.”
He did, licking his lip and then sucking her finger into his mouth. “Mmm. Sweet.”
“It’s my signature honey dust…you like?”
“I like how you taste with or without it, but it’s very nice, yes,” he said, tired of talking.
He pulled her closer, his mouth tracing a trail of the dust from the pulse at her throat to the tip of her breast, where he tasted deeply, drawing on her nipple until she was whimpering.
“Oh, you are tasty,” he murmured.
“It’s for both of us,” she said, her voice trembling as she lifted, and the next thing Jonas felt was a light, tickling sensation that made his cock surge.
“What—”
“More honey dust—applied with the feather that comes with every jar. So I can taste you,” she said.
His mind blanked as her tongue was the next thing he felt, licking and darting out to taste until he was strained to the limit and fighting for control.
“Please, Tessa,” he said, unsure how much more he could take.
“Oh, I do like that,” she said in a sultry tone, dragging her nails up and down his thighs. “So sexy, Jonas.”
She took him whole then, making his entire body arch off the bed.
“That’s enough, you vixen,” he said, and she laughed as he pulled her up and over him.
He loved her laugh.
“I never imagined this side of you,” he said, enjoying how she took control. “I like it.”
“There’s so much more, Jonas. I like to play,” she said as she rolled the condom over his erection with warm, loving hands before settling herself over him.
“I need you,” she said, meaning every word as she took him inside with a sigh.
Jonas couldn’t speak, the perfection of it robbing him of words. If only he could see her, it would be perfect, but he could imagine her blond curls riotous, her cheeks flushed, lips red from sucking him. Her hands planted on his chest as she moved, and he could picture her breasts moving as she did.
“So good,” she whispered, rocking gently until she started to make the soft crying sounds he loved.
He covered her breasts with his hands and then dived in to lick away the rest of the sweet dust, sucking at her tender skin until she rocked faster, her cries becoming louder. His breath came in short panting bursts, his body feeling like a bow strung too tight.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he crooned and pushed his hips up as she rocked over him. She planted her hands on his shoulders, finding the rhythm she needed, and he held her hips, jackhammering up to meet her as they both lost any sense of control, pushed over the edge of a hard, simultaneous orgasm that left them shaking and panting as she fell against his chest, their bodies still deeply joined.
“More,” was all he said, easing her over to her stomach and lifting her hips, positioning her on all fours before him. He felt primal, possessive, taking her this way.
“Tessa, you are every man’s fantasy come to life,” he said, running his hands over her completely, teasing every inch of her.
“I only want to be yours.”
Regret and need for her warred inside him, and he pressed his face against her back where he trailed kisses down her spine, making her shiver as his fingers did delightful things between her legs. She was slick from her first orgasm and his touch, and yet she needed more, too.
“Please, Jonas,” she begged shamelessly, sighing in sheer happiness as he slid inside, burying himself deep in response to her request.
“You’re perfect, Tessa,” he said reverently, still touching her back, her thighs, until his hands rested on her hips as he thrust faster.
Jonas massaged her perfect ass as he moved inside her, then reached down to circle his fingers around the slick, hot nub in a way that would drive her crazy.
“Jonas, oh…yes,” she managed to breathe, easing back against him for more, which he was happy to provide. His balls pulled tight, feeling full and heavy, his body hot.
“Come for me, Tess, again,” he said raggedly, increasing the tempo until every muscle inside fisted around him, clenching and releasing as they both shouted out their mutual release.
They rode it out, not wanting to stop until they fell back to the bed.
Tessa burrowed into his chest as his arms came around her, hugging her in close. They nestled and nuzzled, lost in a cocoon of intimacy that closed out the rest of the world.
JONAS KNEW WHAT HE had to do, but it was the hardest thing he’d ever contemplated. Previously, he thought leaving the police force had been the hardest decision of his life, but it didn’t even come close to leaving Tessa.
He wanted to do nothing
more than go back to her, to lie in her arms and wake up with her, but he couldn’t. Not until this mess was straightened out.
Jonas liked James, or thought he did. Listening to Tessa’s stories about how he’d wrecked her relationships and tried to keep her from starting her business—what kind of parent did that?
Jonas’s father and mother had encouraged all the boys to be who they were, regardless. Hard work, discipline, loyalty—these were the things that counted. How they dressed, who their friends were, what they wanted to do with their lives—Jonas’s parents never put any obstacles in their way. They still lived in the family home in Fishtown, and Jonas saw them regularly, not only for holidays.
But more importantly, Jonas had to step away before he did further damage. He couldn’t be Rose’s weapon of choice anymore, and certainly not when it came to Tessa.
She probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him when she found out, but that was how it was. He’d brought it on himself. All he could do was tell her the truth and let the chips fall where they may.
Feeling around on her kitchen counter, he knew she kept notepaper by the phone, and found that and a pen.
Swallowing hard, he wrote:
Tessa: I didn’t mean to lie to you. Not really. It was part of the job. I never expected to fall for you—that wasn’t part of the job, either. I know it was wrong for us to be together when I am still working for your father, but I want you to know, what happened between us last night was real. I hope you can forgive me someday,
Love,
Jonas
He scrawled out the message and left the paper on the table, and picked up the phone to call his brother.
As he dialed, Jonas gasped, the pain in his head nearly doubling him over. The room spun, and he gripped the edge of the counter, and to his amazement, he saw it—saw it all. The marble pattern of the counter, the ray of sunlight cutting across his hands, the note with his crooked scrawl on it.
Then darkness again as his stomach lurched, nausea and disorientation turning his hands cold.
His vision was returning? Like this? His hands shook as he tried to grab at the phone, but missed. He needed to call Garrett, but the headache was debilitating.
Sliding to the floor, he never did make that call.
10
9:00 a.m.
TESSA WOKE UP alone, and lay still in bed, smiling. The night before had been like some kind of wild fantasy, traversing the city by all means available, and ending up here, with the man of her dreams in her arms.
Her body ached in a delicious way from their love-making, and she stretched, yawning and wishing he was here with her so she could curl around him and go back to sleep. Yeah, right. Sleep wasn’t exactly what she wanted right at the moment.
Where was Jonas? Peeking at the clock, she saw it had only been about an hour, and she wondered what he was up to. She didn’t hear the shower or anyone moving around. In fact, it was too quiet.
Concerned, she got up and grabbed a robe from her dresser, padding into the other room. Nothing there.
Then she heard a groan and walked quickly to the kitchen where she gasped in fright, finding Jonas sitting on the floor, holding his head.
“Oh, my God, Jonas,” she said, rushing to his side as he slumped down to the floor, his face white.
“Call my brother,” he said weakly, not sounding at all like himself. She could see he was in terrible pain.
Tessa called emergency first, and then his office, hoping to hell someone was there.
“Berringer Security,” a man’s voice answered.
“This is Tessa Rose—is this Garrett?”
“It is,” Garrett said, sounding wary.
“I’m calling for your brother Jonas—”
“Is he okay? I just got into the office, and the place looks like a wrecking ball hit it. The first-aid kid is out, and I’ve been calling the hospitals, since he isn’t answering his phone—”
“He’s with me,” she said, interrupting. “He’s been with me all night, but I don’t know if he’s okay. I’ve called the paramedics. I found him here on my kitchen floor, and he’s holding his head, and somewhat incoherent.”
“Are they there yet?”
“I hear the sirens now.”
“I’ll meet you at St. Mark’s Medical, and I’ll call his doctor. You take care of him, Tessa.”
“I will.”
She didn’t see the slip of paper on the counter until she hung up the phone, and scanned it quickly.
Her heart broke, and she forced away tears. Jonas had been leaving her? With a note?
And he had been lying to her?
Now was not the time for this. Pushing the pain and the anger aside, she kneeled by Jonas and took his hand. His skin was cold, clammy, and worry clashed with the other emotions that rocked her.
“It’ll be okay, they’re coming, and Garrett is meeting us at the hospital,” she reassured, even as she looked up at the counter again, seeing the note, as if to confirm she’d actually seen it, and not just imagined it.
He’d been working for her father? How? Why?
Dozens of questions erupted, none of which could have answers while she sat here with him.
Paramedics knocked hard at the downstairs door, and she raced to meet them. Just a few minutes later, they were taking Jonas to the hospital, and she was left standing in the kitchen in her robe, staring at the note.
Daylight glared through the window, but she barely noticed, numb to her core.
No doubt her exhaustion had something to do with magnifying her feelings, but her disappointment and hurt that Jonas had deceived her was cutting deep.
Right now she couldn’t indulge that pain. She needed to go to the hospital and at least make sure he was okay. Then she’d come back here and nurse her own wounds.
It was a particular form of self-torture, but she reached for the note, staring at it.
She felt stupid, used and vulnerable. Was that how he had felt when he thought she had done the same to him? Was it really a job, or was this just revenge?
Putting aside the pity party, she padded into the shower, heart heavy, needing to wash his scent from her body, but at the same time, it was so incredibly painful to do so. She wanted him to come back. To hold her.
Jonas didn’t want her. He was only doing a job.
She’d been so sure that they had something perfect, something incredible.
It was only sex, she thought morosely, pausing before she turned on the water, giving in to tears. The last eighteen hours or so seemed like a dream. One that had left her with a rude awakening.
She soaked herself beneath the spray as tears flowed. She’d allow herself a few minutes to cry over what she’d thought was something wonderful, but promised herself that after she left the shower, she wouldn’t waste one more tear on him.
She squeezed a fragrant honey-almond liquid soap on her loofah, and washed as if intent on scrubbing his touch from her skin. That brought on more tears. It would be some time before she could forget how he’d touched her, and how she’d responded.
But she would, eventually.
Getting out of the shower, she wanted only to go to bed, to lose herself in sleep where she wouldn’t have to think about any of it, but, she had to get dressed and go to the hospital. In spite of it all, she had to know if he was all right. As she dropped the towel, her phone rang.
News about Jonas? She looked at the caller ID and saw her father’s number on the screen.
Her anger flared anew, and she answered.
“Hello, Dad,” she said tersely.
“Hello, sweetheart. I was calling to make sure you’re okay.”
“Just drop the act, Senator.” She knew he hated it when she called him that.
“What’s going on, Tessa?”
He had the gall to act exasperated, as if she was being unreasonable.
“Why would you be worried? You hired Jonas to babysit me until you got back, right?”
Her fath
er sighed heavily. “He told you?”
“Yes, though not everything. Don’t ever do that to me again,” she said, her voice breaking.
“Honey, what’s wrong? What did he do?”
“He didn’t do anything,” she sobbed.
Just broke her heart in two—the both of them together had done that, her father and Jonas.
“He’s at the hospital, St. Mark’s. I think something is happening with his vision, but it didn’t seem right. I found him barely conscious on my kitchen floor,” she said, unable to stop tears from springing forth, and hating it.
“I’m on my way back there now. I’ll be arriving in an hour or so. You stay where you are.”
He cut the call before she could say goodbye, and hung up. She was dazed and tired down to her bones, but she had to get to the hospital. Dressing quickly, she heard more knocking at her front door, rushed to answer.
She found Lydia, looking frantic.
“I saw paramedics taking someone out—what’s going on?”
“It’s Jonas. I don’t know, something was wrong with his head. I just found him here,” she said, and burst into tears again.
Lydia hugged her, and dug out a wad of tissues from her purse. “Oh, honey, it will be okay. Let me get my car, I’ll drive, and you tell me what’s going on, okay?”
Tessa nodded, relieved to have one person she could count on in her life. Lydia had never let her down. Maybe she should have listened more closely to her friend, who was a classic commitmentphobe. Lydia had several lovers, and didn’t believe in getting too attached to any of them. Tessa attributed that to her rather rough upbringing, mostly in foster homes, but she also knew that Lydia was into some kinky stuff, sexually speaking.
Way more than Tessa ever experienced.
None of that mattered. How her friend ran her sex life wasn’t Tessa’s concern. Lydia had always been there for her, and that’s what mattered. In fact, Lydia was like the sister Tessa had never had.
As they made their way to the hospital, she told Lydia all of it, and her friend shook her head in disbelief.
“I can’t believe he would do that. Why? It’s clear he’s crazy about you—why not just tell you the truth?”
Mine Until Morning Page 14