by C. R. Ellis
For a while, we just sat there, comfortably holding each other while I processed her words. As a cop, letting yourself focus only on the losses you suffered on the job was a dangerous distraction. Moving forward and learning from the past was the only way to operate. I’d known that for years. I’d just never applied that philosophy to my personal life.
“Jesus, you’re incredible. You know that?” I finally asked, pulling back just enough to see her face.
She smiled. “You’re pretty incredible yourself.”
“So…you were half in love with me back then, huh?” I asked, mirroring her smile.
“Yeah. I also really liked Barbie dolls and Pokémon cards though, so my judgment was pretty shitty,” she joked, giving me a playful shove.
“I’m actually a little surprised. I was kind of a dick to you and Jade as a teenager.” Somehow that seemed to be a reoccurring theme with how I treated Jasmine in the past. I cringed at the realization and vowed never to let it happen again.
“You had your moments of assholery, but every once in a while, you’d do something sweet and unexpected that drew me right back in to your spidery web.”
“Spidery web?” I asked, my brows arching.
She shrugged. “It seemed like every time I tried to break free from the things you made me feel you’d show up again and draw me right back in. You were quite the charmer when you weren’t being a dick.”
Her furrowed brow told me it wasn’t the best time to laugh, given that she’d just basically admitted to spending her teenage years halfway obsessed with me. I couldn’t help it though; I found her comparison of her romantic feelings for me to being stuck in a spider’s web completely hilarious.
I swallowed my laughter and lost the smirk. “I’m so sorry, Jas, for how I’ve treated you in the past, and for taking so fucking long to come to my senses. I won’t let it happen again.”
“I know.” She smiled, bringing her hands around my neck and locking them together. Her expression held a mixture of awe and unease, and her eyes quickly flitted away from mine before she finished her train of thought. “There’s a reason I’ve never been able to shake off everything you make me feel. God, Dean. I’m so unbelievably in love with you that it exhilarates and terrifies me at the same time. I’ve never felt this way before,” she whispered, fixing her eyes on my chest.
I brought one hand to her chin so I could angle her gaze back to mine.
“Jas, I’ve loved you since the day you came to New York and showed me what love truly meant. You’ve shown me what it’s like to have someone love me for who I am, faults and all. Back then, I didn’t know what to do with that kind of love, and I panicked. But I swear I’ll never make that mistake again. We’ll get it right this time.”
“You aren’t, like, having second thoughts about us? I mean, this, us, isn’t weird for you?” If she’d been anyone else, I would’ve thought she was having second thoughts and looking for an out. But with Jas, it was just a sincere question.
I brushed a loose wave from her face and quickly leaned in to kiss her. “No second thoughts, Goldie. The only thing that’s weird for me is how long it’s taken us to get where we are. I’ll always regret the time we’ve lost, but I’m going to do everything I can to make it up to you in the future.”
She nodded, and the movement sent tears racing down her cheeks. I reached up to brush them as they fell. “I hope these are happy tears.”
She nodded silently, but cut herself short mid-nod. “What are you talking about? I’m not crying. You’re mistaken. I don’t cry,” she insisted, trying to narrow her watery eyes at me through a smile.
I laughed and shook my head.
Her warm eyes twinkled in the soft light seeping through the branches around us. She abruptly stood and took my hand, leading me toward the pegs down the trunk of the tree. I had every intention of marching her right back to the tent so I could show her how much I loved her, but she was too enticing – I pulled her up against me and sandwiched her between my body and the trunk of the tree. I loved how responsive she was to every brush of my fingertips. Jasmine’s chest heaved underneath me, and I almost ripped off the thin shirt separating me from her soft skin. Instead, I stifled a growl in my throat and pulled away. Her eyes went wild as she glared at me.
“Dean Michael Preston, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Well, what I’m about to do is you. Just not here,” I murmured. “But you’re going to have to work on the noise level, Goldie,” I added with a smirk, gesturing toward the tents near ours.
She rolled her eyes and smacked my arm. “Ugh. You’re such a—”
“Charming, handsome, cocky ass?”
“Yep, pretty much,” she replied, taking my hands. “Now come on, I’m not getting any younger, and neither are you, old man.”
“Old man, huh? Ouch.”
Apparently four years between our ages made me old. I didn’t care, as long as she continued looking at me the way she was at that moment, I’d be happy until I really was an old man.
Chapter 29
Jasmine
If admiring your best friend’s brother’s perfect, bare ass is wrong, I’m prepared to never be right again.
Jasmine Winters, realizing perfection is attainable, if your name is Dean Preston
Part of me was terrified to think about any kind of future for us. But every time Dean pulled me into his arms, that part of me was stifled, and all I felt was complete happiness.
We decided to tell his parents about our relationship now that we knew where we stood. I felt a little nervous about it, but also knew we couldn’t keep sneaking off at their house for private make-out sessions when we couldn’t go more than a couple of hours without touching each other.
“Don’t be nervous, Jas. They already love you,” Dean reassured me.
“I know they love me, but you’re their son.”
Dean was right, but that didn’t untangle the knots of unease in my stomach. What I didn’t say was that Dean’s fear of inadequacy about not being enough for me had worked its way into my subconscious. What if they thought I wasn’t good enough for him?
Dean killed the Camaro’s engine and hopped out, quickly rounding the hood to open my door. “Ready?”
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, biting my lip and glancing at the mirror to do a quick once over.
“Babe, you look beautiful, and it’s going to be fine. I promise,” he reiterated.
Maybe it was the way I was absently fidgeting with my purse, or maybe it was the way I had yet to move away from the car, but Dean sensed my continued anxiety.
He pulled my face into his hands and kissed away the worries and fears. Kissing him right here, in front of the house, was risky, but I didn’t care. Dean leaned back and peeled his eyes open to meet mine. I loved that his eyes had a thousand shades of green, yet they all had the same calming effect on me.
God, I love him.
“Better?” he asked.
I nodded and tugged his hand toward the house. “Let’s do this.”
Dean swung the door open and called out to his parents. “Mom? Dad? We’re here.”
“In the kitchen, honey,” Mary replied.
He shot me one last reassuring look before strolling toward the kitchen. I sucked in a breath and trailed behind the only man I’d ever loved. Unfortunately, watching his easy, leisurely strides did nothing to soothe my nerves.
“Jasmine, honey, you look lovely.” Mary beamed at me from her spot at the stove, eyeing my coral sundress. I went uncharacteristically minimalistic on the make-up, opting only for some blush and mascara, and I’d straightened my hair but left it down, aiming for a put-together look that didn’t seem like I was trying too hard.
I smiled and hoped my nerves weren’t written all over my face. Victor came into the room and clapped Dean on the back before pulling me in for a hug. “You do, Jas. Something’s different. Good different though,” he mused.
“I’ve been telling her that for
weeks now,” Dean spouted, unleashing the dimples on me. I narrowed my eyes and rolled them at him when I was sure neither of his parents would see.
“Uh, thanks. I’m really happy these days.” I didn’t even try to keep the sincerity from my voice, even though I could’ve smacked Dean for making me squirm.
Victor and Mary exchanged a quick glance.
Do they know?
Oh, God. Panic set in and made my heart race.
I took a breath and went to pour myself a glass of wine without looking at anyone else in the room.
“That’s great, sweetheart. Does this newfound happiness have to do with something in particular? A new man?” Mary asked.
I hesitated. I could easily lie my way out of this. Or come clean.
Dean made the decision for me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
“I’m in love with your son,” I blurted, surprised at how easily the truth rolled off my tongue.
“Jasmine’s it for me. I love her,” Dean added. I angled my head back to smile up at him.
We waited for his parents to respond for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it was only a few seconds.
Smiles broke out across their faces simultaneously.
“Well, it’s about time,” Victor chimed in, raising his beer to the two of us. “I was rooting for you two.”
Mary’s smile held, and she slipped out from under Victor’s arm, making her way to me. “I am so happy for you both. Really.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “I had a feeling something was going on between y’all, but I also knew it would be best to give you space to figure it out. I was so hoping it would end up this way, though. You two really do deserve happiness, and I’m so glad you’ve found it together.”
The unease I’d felt about tonight’s dinner faded away, leaving nothing but joy in its place. A small voice in the back of my head warned me that being this happy couldn’t last, that letting myself finally relax and focus on just being happy with Dean was asking for trouble. But I didn’t care; I was finally learning to trust my own heart and to trust Dean.
The rest of dinner passed seamlessly. A few times, Dean caught Mary looking at us like she was already picking out China patterns, but fortunately for us, she didn’t ask for wedding details or suggest baby names. I knew those would come eventually, but for now I was just glad Mary seemed genuinely happy we were together.
A couple hours later, we pulled up to the apartment building and sat in a comfortable silence.
“You ready for Saturday?” Dean asked, cutting the engine.
“Yeah. I’ve put more hours into this wedding than I think I ever have before, so I’m ready for it. What about you, groomsman? Ready to stand up there stoically and be the object of every female’s fantasy?”
He smirked and ran his fingers through his freshly-cut hair. “I take my groomsman responsibilities very seriously, I’ll have you know. As for being the object of every female’s fantasy, though,” he added, his voice taking on a sexy rasp that made my stomach squirm. “There’s only one female whose fantasy I wanna be. Long blonde hair, mesmerizing caramel eyes, about five-seven, killer body. Sound familiar?”
“Vaguely. Sounds like a lucky girl. Do I know this particular blonde?” I asked, crossing my arms across my chest.
“Allow me to clarify,” he rasped, pulling me across the center console so I was straddling his hips. “You are the only one whose attention I want. I love you, Jasmine,” he finished as he trailed his hands from my hips up to the base of my skull.
Will I ever get used to hearing him say those three words?
“I love you, too,” I replied, bringing my hands up to rest against the hard surface of his chest while my eyes stayed trained on his. “Do you…um, still use handcuffs for work?”
“Not really, why?”
I raked my teeth over my bottom lip. “I have an idea. One you’re really gonna like. But it involves one of us being cuffed.”
The right side of his mouth curled up along with his eyebrow, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. “Fuck. Any more talking and we won’t make it upstairs. Your place or mine?”
“Yours. I think you’re going to want this to happen in your bed. Do you have two pairs of cuffs?”
He was already shoving open the door and ushering me off his lap before I even finished my question. I practically had to jog to match his pace up the stairs. Dean immediately went to his bedroom closet and dug around for a few seconds before emerging with two sets of handcuffs.
I patted the chair I’d brought from the dining room table to signal for him to come sit down. He handed me the cuffs and sat, keeping his hungry eyes trained on me. The cuffs were heavy. Durability was the whole reason behind wanting to use his professional-grade cuffs. Considering Dean’s size and strength, it wasn’t a stretch to think he’d break free of cheap ones with ease.
“Keys?”
He reached into his pocket and handed me a shiny silver key. I set it on the nightstand and turned back to him. The look in Dean’s eyes told me he was somewhere between eagerly awaiting whatever I had planned and turning the tables on me if I made him wait much longer.
“Lose the shirt,” I instructed.
He complied, leaning forward to reach back and pull the shirt over his head. I gave myself a few seconds to soak in the moment. My God. If someone told me I’d lose my ability to see in twenty-four hours, I’d spend twenty-three of them looking at the sight in front of me—Dean Preston, shirtless and smiling, doing all kinds of crazy things to my heart.
“See something you like?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Eh.”
“Eh?” he scoffed, reaching out to grab my ass and pull me onto his lap. “You’re a shitty liar, babe.” His hands rounded over my hips and crept along my thighs, slowly pulling up the hem of my dress. “If I keep going, we both know I’ll prove you wrong.”
I bit my lip and considered letting him continue. Instead, I pulled his face into my hands and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I like everything I see right now. Just don’t ruin it by speaking.”
He laughed and looped his arms around my back, holding me in place.
I groaned into his mouth before finally pulling away. “No. Stop distracting me.”
I quickly picked up one of his wrists and slapped a cuff on it before hooking the other one around a bar of the chair back. I repeated the process with his other wrist and flashed him a smirk as I pushed off his lap.
Brushing my fingertips up his thigh, I leaned in to nip his ear. “Mmm. A girl could get used to this. I already like having you at my mercy.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts, baby, ‘cause our roles will be reversed in the near future.”
I paused momentarily, imagining what that would be like.
Dean pounced on my hesitation. “We could always—”
“No way. I’ve already got you cuffed; you’re not getting out of this, handsome.” I picked up my phone and scrolled to find the right song. “When I first heard this song, I couldn’t listen to it without thinking of you. Of us. I used to think that was a bad thing, but now it’s kinda fitting.”
I pushed play and set my phone on Dean’s night stand before lifting my dress inch by inch until it was completely off. After dropping it to the floor, I pulled my hair back and traced my fingertips along the line of my shoulder and then over the thin lace of my bra. Dean’s chest heaved when he followed the path my fingers took.
Ariana Grande’s silky voice serenaded us through the phone’s speaker, singing about two people who almost got it right, but walked away from each other instead.
I closed the gap between us and straddled Dean’s lap, planting my feet on either side of him as I linked my hands behind his neck. I let the beat of the song dictate the rhythm of my movements, grinding against him slowly enough to drive us both wild.
“Jas,” he groaned, straining against the cuffs and bucking his hips into me.
I gripped the back of the chair and stood, widening his leg
s to kneel between them. Planting my hands against the chair on both sides of him, I leaned forward to trail kisses across his torso.
I hummed along with the song and let my breasts graze the tops of his thighs as I brushed my lips down the hard ridges of his abs. Between Dean’s groans and the feel of his cock straining against his jeans beneath me, I wasn’t sure which one of us was more turned on.
I pushed up and stepped back, watching Dean’s eyes study my body like he was seeing it for the first time. “See something you like?”
“We’re way past like, babe. You’re so fucking sexy. It’s unreal,” he said, shaking his head before letting it fall back.
I sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, anchoring my feet along the bottom of the frame with my legs wide open.
“What’re you…? Oh, shit,” he panted as soon as he registered my intention.
I brushed a fingertip over the outline of my nipple, feeling it harden under the weight of Dean’s gaze. “Since you moved back, I haven’t been able to touch myself without thinking about you.” I angled my arm around to unclasp my bra and slipped my other hand into my panties, rubbing two fingers over my aching sweet spot. “Tell me, Dean, how many times did you imagine being the one to touch me like this? How many times have you gotten yourself off while thinking about me?”
“Jasmine,” he groaned.
“Just thinking about the way you fuck me gets me so worked up. I’m already close,” I said, losing all desire to draw out my building orgasm.
“Jesus. Fuck. You have five seconds to un-cuff me or I’m breaking this fucking chair, Jas.”
Instead of heeding his warning, I picked up my pace, too close to stop. My eyes slipped closed as my orgasm took over. Deangasms had tainted my appreciation for self-inflicted orgasms, but they still got the job done when necessary.
I opened my eyes just in time to see Dean frantically free his second wrist from the cuffs. Before I could react, he gripped my waist and tossed me on the center of his bed, quickly slapping the cuffs on my wrists and using one of his hands to pin both of mine above my head.