by Ann, Jewel
“Do you need another minute?” Megan asks.
Sydney nods again before lowering her head closer to Swarley’s ear. Megan slides past me to exit the room. I can’t bring myself to move out of her way, or say a word, or make my lungs take another breath. Until … I see Sydney’s lips move, whispering something to Swarley and it. Breaks. My. Heart.
“Excuse me.” I brush by Megan and her nurse standing just outside of the room then hurry to the waiting room.
“Ave—” Jake stands.
My body crashes into his. I squeeze him, burying my face into his neck. “Don’t let me go.” A sob breaks, rattling my ribs. “Don’t wh-whisper something in … m-my ear and let m-me go.”
Not like Sydney is doing to Swarley.
Not like my dad did to my mom.
Not like every man who has claimed to love me.
Love me, Jake. Not for now—love me forever.
He cradles the back of my head with his hand. My body slides into the hard, familiar curves of his torso. And when my heart knocks on my chest, reaching for his heart, I lose myself.
Dreams blur.
The familiar becomes the unknown.
Life feels suffocated by death.
“We can go.”
Jake releases me as I turn toward Sydney, wiping my eyes only for them to refill with tears when I see my own sadness multiplied in the tears on her cheeks.
“It’s out of our control. His fate is in God’s hands.”
I swallow the lump of reality lingering in my throat and step away from Jake to hug my sister. She’s so much stronger than I will ever be.
“That’s what Dad said about Mom,” I whisper.
Sydney nods.
“I’ll call if there’s any change.” Megan’s gaze sweeps around the waiting room.
It’s hard to walk away, so I wait for Sydney to take the lead. She does, and Jake rests his hand on the small of my back to usher me out the door behind my sister.
“Towels and bedding are in the hall closet.”
“Thanks, Meg,” Jake replies.
“I’m going to drive Sydney.” I turn to Jake as we reach his truck.
“Good idea.” He nods, taking my hand to give it a quick squeeze.
“I’m never getting a dog,” I whisper as Sydney distances herself, bringing her phone to her ear. Probably checking in at home.
Jake’s lips curl into a doleful smile.
“They’re terrible creatures. They …” I shake my head. “They’re impulsive and needy. They piss all over stuff. They lick their butts and beg for food. They whine and bark. And then they …” I pinch the bridge of my nose to push away the emotions burning my eyes. “They give you this look. Stupid, puppy dog eyes that they never grow out of. They rest their snout on your leg and just look at you. Always reminding you that when everything else in life fails, they will be there for you. They listen and never interrupt. They come when you call. They’re always loyal … to the very end.”
“He’s not dead.”
I return a tiny nod. “But he’s old. And …” I fight past this stupid ball of pain choking me. “He looks tired. My mom looked tired.”
Sydney says “I love you” to someone on the phone.
I clear my throat. “See you at Megan’s?”
Jake nods as he bends forward to kiss my cheek. It’s incredibly intimate, like a whispered promise that doesn’t require a single word. Like Swarley gave me when I needed it the most.
Inside, I smile. Is Jake my Swarley? Can he hurt me but still love me? Can he be loyal? That would be a first for me.
I take the key fob from Sydney and nod for her to get in on the passenger’s side.
“I’m so incredibly sorry,” I say as we follow Jake’s truck out of the parking lot.
“You have no reason to apologize for this.” Sydney exhales, staring out her window.
“But if he doesn’t make it—”
“Then he doesn’t make it.” She sniffles.
* * *
Jake opens Sydney’s door for her when we pull into Megan’s driveway. He shows her to the guest bedroom, gets her clean towels, and offers to make her something to eat.
I watch the man I’ve fallen in love with treat my sister like family, like he’s known her forever. Jake’s compassionate side blinds me, wraps itself around my heart, and infiltrates my soul.
“I’m not hungry, but thank you, Jake.” Sydney’s smile falters. “I’m going to try to get a little sleep in case Megan calls about Swarley before morning.”
“Night.” She gives me one more hug before disappearing into the guest bedroom.
We play with Megan’s dogs for a few minutes before taking turns using the shower. I tell him to go first because I need a longer shower, the kind that washes away these desperate emotions—the fear of what’s to come. By the time I emerge from the steamy bathroom, wearing Jakes shirt—
My heart has no room for you,
but the trunk of my car definitely does.
—he’s changed the sheets on Megan’s bed. Perched on the side with his tattooed back to me, his thumbs ghost across his phone screen.
“Megan?”
Jake looks over his shoulder as I crawl onto the bed behind him. “Nice shirt.” He smirks.
“You should see what’s underneath it.” I match his grin.
“Are you texting Megan?”
He shakes his head and sets his phone on the nightstand. “Deedy. But I think she was in the middle of doing something. She seemed a little short and frustrated in her replies. Said she needed fifteen, maybe twenty minutes to finish up.”
I hug his back and kiss his shoulder. “What do you think she was doing?”
“Your dad.”
“What? Ew …” I push away and fall onto my back, covering my head with a pillow. “No. Yuck! That’s so wrong. Why would you say that?”
Laughter rumbles from his chest as he tugs the pillow away from me. I cover my eyes with the heels of my hands as he covers my body with his, nestling his narrow hips between my legs.
A satisfied grin slides up his face when I uncover my eyes. “You have nothing on under my shirt.” Restrained by his boxer briefs, his erection nudges me like an arrow pointing due north.
“Just …” My breath evaporates from my chest. He does that. Jake is a thief who takes breaths, slays words before they fall from my lips, and steals hearts.
Yeah, he’s stolen my heart.
“Just what, Ave?” He pushes my shirt—his shirt—up, eyeing my exposed breasts and wetting his lips. Raw masculinity delivers his words. Even on a whisper, his deep voice reverberates along my skin.
Commanding.
Arresting.
Seductive.
I shiver with anticipation seconds before everything burns with need. Jake doesn’t just reside in my head and my heart. He lives in every cell of my body.
“I’m not bad at sex.”
He grins. It’s arrogant for two seconds before his eyes shine with something that feels like adoration—maybe even love.
“No? Would you like to back that statement up with proof?”
My head eases side to side. “I want to give you a massage.”
“A massage?” His thick eyebrows lift up on his forehead a bit.
“Yes. I’m good at it. I want you to know I’m good at something.”
“Your fingers are injured.”
I hold up my hand, bending and flexing my fingers several times without pain, but a stiffness remains. They may never be the same, since I left town instead of visiting a physical therapist. “But I’m fine.”
After several slow blinks, his grin returns.
“Jake …” I close my eyes on a weak protest as he plants open-mouth kisses along my neck, rocking his pelvis an inch—an inch that draws a sharp breath from my chest. “I’m serious.”
He takes his time dragging his skillful mouth up my neck, along my jaw, halting at the corner of my mouth.
The Jake Effect feels
like what I’ve always imagined resurrection to feel like—minus the throbbing need between my legs.
Dear Heavenly Father,
Please forgive me for thinking of you and an orgasm in the same thought. But if we’re not meant to have this kind of pleasure—a lot—then why give women a clitoris with over 8,000 nerve endings? DOUBLE what you gave the penis! Sometimes I feel like we just walk around trying to act normal—human—when all we really want to do is have an orgasm because it’s the BEST feeling. Why make it so amazing? And if it’s only meant for reproduction, then why does it feel good all the time? Why not make it feel good only when the body is primed to reproduce? Did you mess up? I mean … you created the world. THE WORLD! Surely you could have put this pleasure mechanism on a timer. Why leave cookies in a cookie jar if we’re not supposed to eat cookies all the time?
On that note … my research has led me to discover that a lot of the animal kingdom masturbates, so what’s up with that? I thought humans and their insatiable sexual needs possibly stemmed from the fiasco in the Garden of Eden, but that doesn’t explain the animals. Any who … just things that will need to be explained when I see you someday.
“Ave?”
“Hmm?”
“Where were you?” Jake whispers, feathering his lips over mine.
“Just … talking to God.”
His eyebrows knit together. “About Swarley?”
“Um … yes.”
I’m going to Hell. But that’s not a newsflash.
On a sympathetic sigh, he rolls to the side, pulling me into his body for a hug. “I feel like an ass for trying to seduce you while your mind is clearly on Swarley … where it should be tonight.”
Rubbing my lips together, I leave my focus on my hands pressed flat to his chest. If I look at him, he’ll know. He’ll see my lies, my perversion. My sins.
“Do you pray for him to live or do you pray for him to find peace as well as your sister and her family?”
I’m a terrible person.
I pray that God will provide him with a soft blanket to hump in his afterlife.
“I’m going to Hell,” I whisper.
“No. Why would you say that?” He slides a leg between mine, bringing us even closer.
I push away. “Naked and on your stomach.”
His lips twist into a restrained but sexy grin.
“One sec.” I fetch a towel from the bathroom and toss it to him. “Cover your goods with this.” I turn my back and retrieve lotion from my bag.
He chuckles. It’s playful, and I could listen to it forever like a song that speaks to the heart, making it overflow with bliss. “My ass? Is that what you’re calling my goods? And is there a reason you have your back to me?”
Squeezing my legs together, I clear my throat and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m trying to be professional.”
“Professional Avery. I like where this is going.”
“Just …” I roll my eyes. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I turn. Damn … he’s six feet, two hundred plus pounds of raw sex appeal on his stomach with his to-die-for ass mostly covered with a much-too-tiny hand towel. Coincidence? I think not. “What kind of pressure do you like?” Kneeling beside him on the bed, I draw in a slow professional breath and squirt lotion onto my hand.
He rests his head on the opposite cheek, peering back at me. “You know I like it hard, Ave. Just like you.”
Harnessing my poker face, I nod. “Firm pressure. Noted.”
He smirks, but I cling to my stoic expression, even if I’m drowning in my own arousal in other areas.
My hands, forearms, and elbows go to work on his back. He moans, eyelids drifting shut. My knees pull inward to stave off the desire that’s out of my control. After twenty minutes of working on his back, I wipe the sweat from my brow.
This might have been a bad idea. I’m a good massage therapist. Clients pile up on waiting lists to see me, but Jake might not see my amazingness shine through because I’m a bitch in heat.
Rules of massage: focus all your thoughts on your client, let go of extraneous thoughts.
Done.
I’m all about Jake right now.
Powerful messages—palpable sensations—can be transferred from my fingers and palms to my client.
Done.
By now Jake should know I want to touch him everywhere with every part of my body. I want to give pleasure and take some of my own as well.
Moving on to his legs, I scoot off the bed and stand at the end, working my thumbs deep into his muscles.
“Ave … you’re so … fucking … incredible,” he mumbles like a drunk.
“I know.” I grin, but if I’m honest, Jake’s approval of my skills makes fireworks explode inside of me. His moaned words trump every glowing review I’ve ever received.
After another thirty minutes, I’m not sure he’s awake. Stilling my hands on his calves, I give his legs a gentle shake. “Roll onto your back.” I turn, flexing and bending my fingers, rubbing them to relieve the stiffness.
“Ready,” he says.
“Oh!” I cover my mouth, eyes wide.
Jake grins without opening his eyes.
I was wrong. He’s far from being lulled to sleep. He’s very much awake. I toss a pillow over his midsection because the towel lost the battle with his stiff cock.
After I work my way back up his body, I kneel just above his head, massaging his scalp. His eyes blink open. He just … stares at me with an unreadable expression. I lose the stare-off and look away while my fingers continue to make tiny circles.
“Come closer,” he whispers.
I pause, meeting his gaze again.
No smiles. No telling expressions.
My head descends a few inches.
“Closer.”
I don’t know what it is, but it’s like something just shifted between us, and it happened in a single blink. And now … I’m scared and vulnerable and just … naked to my bones.
Moving closer, the tips of my damp hair brush his face, our lips a whisper away.
“I love you.”
Sucking in a shaky breath, tears race to fill my eyes, blurring his beautiful face.
“I live in L.A.” Panic rides in on its giant horse, drawing its sword to slay my dreams before disappointment takes me hostage.
“I love you.” He doesn’t give my reply the tiniest of flinches.
“I love shopping and cheese,” I whisper as his hand cups the back of my head.
“I love you.” He brings our lips to meet in a patient kiss, a slow dance. An unbreakable promise.
Fear and lack of worth bleed from my eyes in big tears. He pulls my body around to face his, losing the towel and pillow seconds before sliding his shirt from my body.
Yeah, something has shifted. The earth tips the other way on its axis and starts spinning in the opposite direction, obliterating my sense of being. Gravity no longer exists in my world.
My back arches, eyelids heavy, body surrenders as he pushes into me. When he stills, stealing my breath on a heavy moan, I force my eyes open.
Intense blues greet me.
My fingers find his hair when he dips his head, leaving a trail of kisses along my jaw as he moves inside of me. It’s familiar. Our bodies connected is familiar and easy and … perfect.
“Oh god … this is it,” I whisper.
He stops. “This is what?”
Our gazes lock. “This is what it feels like to be in love—deeply … uncontrollably … eternally in love.”
Jake’s brow tenses for a moment before the lines vanish and his lips ghost over mine. “Yes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jake
Avery kisses me, curling her fingers in my hair, sliding her tongue against mine. Her long legs wrap around my waist for several minutes while we move together. Then she pushes me onto my back without breaking our connection. Her body moves along mine with uninhibited desire. Taking what she wants with a con
fidence that’s so beyond sexy, I think I could die. She pleases herself.
Craving me.
Tasting me.
Taking what she wants—what she needs.
Pleasuring herself with my body.
And pleasuring me with her fucking incredible confidence.
This … this is the naked, breathtaking, ineffable woman I saw long before she knew it existed within her.
“Touch me …” She pushes my hand where she wants it.
I grin, obliging her.
“Harder …” Her nails indent my skin.
I give it to her harder, mesmerized by this perfect moment.
“Kiss me …” She opens her lust-leaden eyes, gazing down at me.
Per—fection.
I have to keep myself from begging her to marry me. I have to scold myself for trying to imagine what she might look like nine months pregnant with my baby. No woman has ever made me this delirious, and I still have no logical explanation as to what exactly it is about Avery that’s clawed its way into my heart and taken up permanent residence.
“Dammit, Jake … kiss me.” Her impatience sends an extra jolt to my dick.
I sit up, bringing us face to face, and lean in to kiss her.
“Lower …” she rocks her pelvis against mine.
I kiss her neck.
“Lower …” she whispers, guiding my hand to where we are joined. “Kiss me here.”
My gaze flits up to meet hers.
Before I can grin, and believe me, this makes me happier than I’ve ever been in my whole damn life, Avery crashes her mouth to mine. Her hungry mmm brings me to the brink of orgasm, but she pulls away, mumbling against my lips. “What are you waiting for, Matthews?”
Dead.
She just buried me.
Game over.
Avery Montgomery is officially out of my league.
I fold, throwing down a pretty good hand. She just played a royal flush.
My dick will have to wait on standby because I love this woman, and she’s earned this from me.
“Attagirl, Ave.” I grab her waist and lower her back to the mattress.
Her breaths quicken even more when I mark the inside of her thighs with my whiskered jaw as I make my way to fulfill her request. “If you just ask…” her hips jerk “…there’s nothing I wouldn’t give you.”