My right hand skated down her body, tugging on the wet fabric of her dress. “Off. I want this off.”
Her eyes flared as I pulled away and gave her space. Hesitantly, her fingers hitched the hem, pausing around her hips. “Before I do, can I, um, ask one more question…and then I’m all yours.”
My cock hardened to agony levels. “You’re already mine.” I dragged a fingertip along her collarbone. “You’re in my bed, after all.”
“You know what I mean.” Her eyelids lowered, turning brilliant green into sultry emerald.
“How about we avoid another fight by not talking?” Ducking, I kissed the collarbone I’d just stroked. Her skin tasted of rain, coconut, and lemonade.
I groaned, nipping at her. “We seem to do better when conversation isn’t our main pastime.”
“One question, Jacob.” Her back bowed as I wedged an arm around her, bending her backward until I earned a mouthful of delicious Hope. I wanted to trail my tongue down to the nipple showing beneath her clothes.
I groaned again, but this time in annoyance. “Fine, one question.”
She blinked, hazed and hot as I unwound my arm and hovered over her.
“Ask quickly. Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit.”
“Okay.” She licked her lips. “A-are you happy? I mean, right now? With me?”
I froze.
Happy?
Try terrified.
“I’m horny; does that count?”
Hurt glistened in her gaze. She took a moment to reply. “I guess…seeing as that is the main reason I’m pinned beneath you.”
“You did argue that I’d never given in.” I rocked my hardness against her. “Aren’t you happy now that I have?”
Her hand raised to cup my cheek. Her touch sent fire bolts and poison right to my heart. Instinct howled for me to move away, but I shivered and ignored it, allowing the connection, enduring it.
“If I’m being honest, I don’t know what I am.” She sighed heavily. “I want you so much that if you didn’t mean so much to me, I’d already be naked with you inside me. But…”
I liked the sound of that, and I was happy to oblige, but the faint thread of fear in her tone made me ask gently, “But?”
“But…why do I already feel like crying?”
“Do you often cry before having sex?” I meant it as a joke—an idiotic attempt to lighten the suddenly stifling tension. But my ribcage cracked one rib at a time as her eyes darted away, hiding a spark of truth.
Shit.
So this wasn’t her first time.
That killed me. Here I was, the inexperienced, scared little virgin, and Hope had been touched before. Adored before. Cared for in ways I was too broken to achieve.
Great, now I felt like crying. Or tearing the goddamn walls apart. Or yelling at her for being my only friend, which meant she had all the power in the world to butcher me.
It wasn’t fair.
I hated that she’d been intimate with others, all while I’d wrapped myself up in loneliness. It was my own stupid fault.
I knew that.
But it didn’t mean I could live with it.
I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to feel a tenth of the agony and longing I had for her.
At least then she’d have a justified reason to cry.
“What are you thinking about?” Her fingers trailed my spine. “You’ve gone rigid.” Her other hand ran along my jawline. “If you don’t stop clenching, you’ll break your teeth.”
A lance of pain struck from nowhere. My mother had said that exact thing on the red carpet for The Boy & His Ribbon. Hope had known my mother. She’d loved her. She’d met me when I was an idiotic fourteen-year-old mess.
Yet here she still was…tormenting me.
“Why are you here?” I narrowed my eyes.
She stiffened. “I told you…it’s difficult to discuss. If you want to talk, we should stop...and talk.” She moved beneath me, but I clamped hands on her shoulders, keeping her down.
“I don’t mean why you’re here, here. We’ll deal with that later. I meant why are you still here? With me…after all this time? Why are you still…my friend?”
Her lips parted. The air crackled with electricity caused by lust and lightning. “What sort of question is that?”
“A good one, so answer it.”
“Friends are there for the good and bad, Jacob. I’m loyal.”
“Loyalty can be a curse.”
“You’re right.” She nodded, her body heat scorching mine, sending more blood between my legs. “But it can also be rewarding…especially when the friend in question accepts there’s something more between them.”
“There’s that word again.”
“What, friend?”
I brushed my nose against hers. “No, accept.”
She nuzzled me, kissing my cheek, working her way to my eyelashes and forehead. The sensation of being kissed so sweetly ripped up my stomach and set fire to the carnage left behind.
“Acceptance is the key to freedom.” She kissed my cheekbone. “It’s a cage of your own making.” A kiss on my earlobe. “I only wish you could see that…if you could, your life wouldn’t be so painful.”
I reared back. “Would it take away the pain of knowing you’ve been with someone else?”
“Excuse me?” She sat bolt upright, shoving me away. “What the hell, Jacob?”
“This isn’t your first time.”
“How on earth do you know that?”
I snorted. “Oh, believe me. I know.”
“It’s none of your business.” Her nose shot up with airs and graces. “None whatsoever.”
“You sure about that? Don’t friends have authority to approve or disapprove potential lovers?”
Rage dotted her cheeks. She laughed coldly. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight. After four years of nothing—no letter, email, phone call, nothing—you think you have the right to tell me who I can or cannot date?”
“Are you dating him now?” I sat on my knees, vibrating with anger. “Are you with someone else while you’re here with me?”
“Wow, you have some nerve, Jacob Wild.” She pushed storm-curled hair from her eyes. “Do you think that low of me? That I would sleep with you while with someone else? That I’d cheat?”
My heart slammed against a brick wall. “I don’t know. You might’ve changed a lot in four years.”
“Yet you haven’t changed at all!”
Her yell pounded against the war drum of my heart. Regret squashed me, but I had to know—had to keep digging at my pain. I deliberately used my fears to push her away. To halt this raw and vulnerable connection between us.
I thought I was done pushing her away—at least for the night. I believed my lust was stronger than my terror.
Turned out, it was just waiting.
Waiting for the perfect moment to make me suffer and her despise me. I wished I could take it back. I wanted to touch her again. But the sickness inside lowered my head and grunted, “Just answer me, Hope.”
“Answer what?”
“Are you or are you not with someone?”
“I can’t believe this. No, I will not answer you!” Huffing with disbelief, she sprang off the bed. “Forget it. I’m leaving. I feared this was a mistake, and it is.” Smoothing down her dress, she spun to face me. “Why couldn’t you just let whatever was about to happen, happen, huh? Why couldn’t you be brave enough to let love guide you for once, instead of fighting it all the time?” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “And why do I keep falling for it? Why do I think I can be strong enough for both of us? That one day, I’ll be able to fix you?”
I tried to ignore the question. If I hadn’t smoked weed and mellowed certain triggers, I wouldn’t be able to reply.
But I had smoked. And I had to reply. Because I was in the wrong, just like always. “You keep trying because you know the truth.”
“What truth?”
“The truth that if anyone can fi
x me…it’s you.”
“Ugh!” She hugged herself tight. “You can’t say things like that. It sends mixed signals.”
“I’m not sending anything. I’m trying to understand.”
Trying to understand how to stop being like this.
“Understand what?”
“Why I feel this way about you when it fucking petrifies me. Why I’m furious that you’ve been with someone else when I know it’s my fault. Why I can’t seem to forget about you. Why I have dreams about you. Why, after all this time, I wish you could fix me so I didn’t have to keep hurting you or myself.”
She stood there, shaking, her dress dancing around her legs. We stared for a few quick breaths, trapped in honesty.
Finally, she stepped toward the bed. Her voice caught with a fresh spill of tears. “You want an answer? Fine. I was with someone. I was with him when I stepped on the plane to find you. I was with him when I saw you on the beach. I’ve been with him for over a year.”
My entire body locked down. My hands curled into fists. “Were you with him when you kissed me?”
She shrugged dejectedly. “No.”
I studied her, read her tears, heard her sorrow, and knew.
My shoulders slouched. “The phone call. That was who was more important than staying dry.”
“Yes.”
“You broke up with him?”
“Yes.”
My voice thickened. “Why?”
Her gaze was too intense, too consuming. “You know why.”
My entire body trembled as I climbed off the bed. The sandy floor stuck to my feet as I stepped toward her.
Her gaze dropped to my tented shorts, then glided over my chest to find my eyes.
She looked so sad it broke my heart.
I should stop this.
I shouldn’t be so awfully selfish.
My voice was ash as I murmured, “You broke up with him…because of me.”
She bit her lip as I moved closer.
“You broke another guy’s heart all because I keep breaking yours.”
She gasped as I threaded fingers in her hair, cupping the back of her neck.
“Stop putting me first, Hope. I don’t deserve it.” Pulling her into me, I kissed her deeply.
Her mouth opened. She let me control her, challenge her, then her tongue tentatively touched mine.
I licked her.
A tiny moan fell from her, tangled with frustration and anger.
And I was done.
Done with talking.
With hurting.
With denying.
Urgency ripped through my drug-haze, and I clutched her as if I’d fallen overboard into an endless sea of suffocation.
She clutched me back, pressing her body against mine until nothing was between us.
“Jake—”
“Quiet.” I nipped her bottom lip. “No more talking. I’m done with talking.” Walking backward, I dragged her with me until the back of my knees hit the bed.
“But—”
“Stop.” I silenced her argument with a vicious kiss. I kissed her so damn hard our teeth clacked, our breaths knotted, and we clawed to get closer.
She cried out as I plunged my tongue deeper. My head swam as I dared cup her breast, squeezing her, loving the way my large hand enveloped her delicate flesh.
“Ah, God…” Her body went loose, giving up all control.
I took full advantage.
Ducking, I gathered the damp material of her dress, pulling it over her hips. “Take it off.”
Her eyes flashed as she tried to pull away, but I didn’t give her space. Pushing the fabric up, I gave her a single second to pull it over her head before my lips sought hers again.
The second the dress tumbled to the floor, my hand found her breast, grazing soft lace hiding softer flesh. “Now this.”
Her lips twitched under mine. “You do it.”
I kissed her, running my free hand to find the bra clasp, fumbling a little. I wasn’t exactly savvy on getting women naked.
Fear returned, hissing with lack and limitation. I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know how to satisfy her.
She had experience.
What if she laughed at my beginner attempts? What if she meant it when she said this was a terrible mistake?
Chasing such thoughts from my mind, I kissed her harder, making her squirm in my arms as I finally figured out the catch and the lace popped free. She wriggled, allowing the straps to cascade from her shoulders and the lingerie to fall to the floor.
I tore away, studying her pearly perfection for the first time. My breath came short and ragged as I imprinted the shadows and fullness that I’d dreamed of. The feminine muscles, the contour of her waist, the slenderness hiding such strength.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
She blushed before tipping her chin. “Your turn.” Her hands gathered my T-shirt, and with a quick glare and heavy shot of lust, I raised my arms obediently.
My T-shirt sailed down to land with her dress and bra.
“You’re beautiful too.” She traced my scars and imperfections, her breath turning just as papery as mine. “I’ve always thought so.”
She leaned in and placed a kiss right over my heart. “The amount of times I watched you at Cherry River is embarrassing.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I watched you too.”
“Don’t talk,” she murmured, her hand dipping lower, travelling over muscles I’d honed with a life of labour. “Don’t think about anything but this, just in case you run again.” She teased me, stroking me when I wanted something harder.
Something more.
I reached out and captured her tight nipple. “I’m not running anywhere.” The second my thumb circled her, she broke out in goosebumps. “You like that?”
She nodded with hooded eyes. “Um-hum.”
I pinched her gently. “And that?”
Her eyelids fluttered lower. “Yes.”
“And this?” I squeezed harder, bowing my head and taking her small nipple into my mouth.
Her back bowed as I caught her, pressing her breasts against my face. I didn’t need an answer to know she liked this better.
I knew her.
I knew violence ran in Hope as it ran in me.
My teeth teased her skin, nipping my way to the other side. Finding her other nipple, I sucked it hard.
She jerked. “Jacob….” Her fingers turned to talons, dragging over my shoulders.
I loved seeing her come undone.
I loved the slices of sharpness as her desperation etched into my skin.
While my tongue stayed busy, my hands skated down her waist, fingers hooking into her underwear. “I want these off.”
She teetered as I nipped at her nipple again, sucking deep. Rising up, I captured her mouth as I pushed the lacy material away from her hips.
She shook her head. “Wait…um, shouldn’t we slow—”
“Can’t.” With a quick push, I said goodbye to the final piece of clothing hiding her from me. I couldn’t breathe as she stepped from the puddle of lace, bare and beautiful.
My heart stopped beating. Literally stopped. My chest no longer held organs keeping me alive; it was filled with fiery lust and fantasy instead.
With a grunt, I fell to my knees, running my hands down the back of her ass and thighs as I went.
She flinched as my mouth lined up perfectly with her core. “Jacob…what are you—”
She never finished her question.
My tongue connected with her silky flesh, and she convulsed in my arms. Her hands landed on my head for balance as I hugged her upper thighs, pressing all of her into my mouth.
I didn’t know if I did it right or if it felt good or if I’d royally screwed up.
But I let Hope guide me.
For every lick I gave, she quivered and quaked. For every bite and suck, she moaned and wobbled. I repeated what made her weak, and tweaked what made her stiffen.
Her breath turned thin. Her fingers turned loose.
And her hips rocked toward me of their own accord.
I smiled against her, tasting her, drinking her, regretting so many things between us. Why was I so afraid of this? This wonderful, delicious girl who loved me?
I delved deeper, thrusting my tongue inside her, wanting to punish her for all my shortcomings.
“Holy—” A strangled cry fell from her mouth as wet warmth coated my tongue. She shivered harder, her knees buckling.
I didn’t let her get away.
I dipped inside her again, biting her clit as my self-control threatened to snap.
I was so fucking hard, I couldn’t see anymore.
I could only feel.
Heat and wet and want.
“Jacob…I’m—God, I’m…” Her head hung heavy as her entire body jolted.
I followed the satiny softness of her inner thigh and pressed a finger deep inside her.
She swayed, granting her entire body into my safekeeping as my one finger became two and my tongue fought to pleasure her.
I’d never felt something so good.
So silky and carnal.
My body strained with hunger, ready to grind, ready to thrust.
I was needy and angry and impatient.
And when Hope came all over my fingers, I couldn’t hold myself back any more.
Her groan made my hair stand on end as her inner muscles squeezed around my invasion. Over and over, ripple after ripple, her wetness drugged me better than any pipe or alcohol.
Pulling her down, I yanked at my swimming shorts.
Her body folded like a fallen flower onto my lap. Her hazy eyes locked on my groin, watching as my erection popped from my shorts and the blue material trapped my thighs.
I pushed them as far as I could without moving.
Because I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t do a damn thing because I’d reached the end of my limit.
“Come here.” I grabbed her around the back of the neck, smashing our lips together. Our kiss was sloppy and savage, teeth and tongue and temper.
Her thighs slipped over mine, sitting on me, caging me.
Her hands found my hair, tugging the length, fighting my need with her own. Her lips claimed mine, our tongues tangling with passion.
The Son & His Hope Page 45