by Casey Hagen
“What?” Lily said, searching her eyes.
“Alegra is alive,” Jasmine said. It sounded crazy to her own ears, but she’d swear to it on her life.
Lily jerked her head back. “I think it’s time to see if Sage and Ivy can take vacations and come out here,” she said.
Jasmine nodded. “I think you might be right.”
“In the meantime, we should go. I want to see if they’ll let me take something of Tyler’s with me. Something of importance. Maybe if I’m on my own with it for a bit, something will come to me,” Lily said.
“Let’s go see if they’re willing to part with something,” Jasmine said.
She had been looking forward to seeing Luca later, but now she dreaded it. How the hell was she supposed be with him and keep that detail to herself?
But worse, how could she tell him and give him hope when she had no proof?
And how the hell could Alegra still be alive after two decades? Why didn’t she find her way home?
And how the hell could Jasmine trust her gut when it told her something so unbelievable?
Chapter 7
Luca dragged his tired feet up the steps to Lily’s door and wondered if it would be rude to just crash in Lily’s guest room with Jasmine.
Probably.
He rang the doorbell and leaned on the wrought iron railing as he heard footsteps padding along the floor on the other side. The lock clicked twice, the chain slid out of the bracket next, and Jasmine opened the door.
She had changed into night clothes. The kind you saw in slasher movies where super-hot chicks, usually in college, got drunk on martinis and had pillow fights.
The white tank hugged her curves, and she’d skipped the bra. Her short, cotton shorts revealed long, sleek thighs.
What a way to wake up.
She gave him a smile and opened the door wide to let him in. “You look exhausted,” she said, closing the door behind him.
“A bit. You wouldn’t believe how much energy it takes to watch a whole lot of nothing for hours on end.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her in, and buried his mouth against her neck to nip at her skin. Goosebumps rose on her flesh under his lips.
Fuck, but he loved the way she reacted to him. “I wonder if Lily would hate me if I convinced you to cross to the dark side and entertain a man here in her guest room.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure she won’t care since she’s not here.” She pulled back to look him in the eye and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Mason picked her up a couple hours ago with every intention on ravishing her for the entire night.”
Luca laughed. “He said that?”
She slid her fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her long nails scraping against his scalp. “Nope. She saw it in a vision.”
“So she’s almost like a mind reader?”
“Something like that. It’s not like she can just conjure it up whenever she wants. Clairvoyance works on its own terms.”
“And what do you have again? I know you told me, but the terms don’t just roll off the tip of the tongue. It’s not clairvoyance, right?”
“Not really, no. I mean, lately I’ve seen some things, and my gut feelings have changed a bit, but I’m claircognizant.”
“Did your gut tell you anything while I was gone?” he asked.
She took his hand and gave him a half-smile. “We need to talk.”
He let her lead him upstairs to her room, but damned if a sense of foreboding didn’t have him in its grips. “Should I be worried?”
“I just need you to have an open mind.” She pushed open the door to the guest room and gestured for him to enter.
He told himself to hold his temper before walking over to the queen-size bed illuminated by lamplight. He dropped onto the end of the bed and watched her approach.
The glow cast was just enough and at the perfect angle to reveal her dusky, tight nipples straining against the white, cotton tank.
God, but he wanted that.
She stopped just out of reach.
“Come here,” he said, grasping her hand and giving her a tug that had her stumbling to a stop between his legs.
“Luca, we need to talk.”
He slid his hands under the edge of her top and absorbed the warm, velvet skin under his palm. “So, talk. I’m great at multitasking.” His fingers walked up her waist and started up her ribs. “While you talk, I’ll taste.” He raised the fabric and roamed the skin all the way up to the underside of her breast.
He’d imagined a hundred different ways to take her over the past few weeks, and now that the moment had arrived he didn’t care how they did it.
He cared more about memorizing the moments of discovery…the firsts. He hoped they would be his last.
He traced his tongue over the soft curve and reveled in the moan that slipped from her lips.
Her hands landed on his shoulders, her fingertips digging into his tight muscles, making him groan against her delicate skin.
“Lily and I did something tonight. You’re not going to like it,” she murmured breathlessly.
Drawing the waistband of her shorts down a few inches, he pressed a kiss to her hip.
Mmmm, it wasn’t enough. He traced her hipbone with his tongue and clasped her hips when her knees buckled.
“Is this the part where you tell me about your visit with the Mishlers?” he asked, dragging his lips over her soft belly.
She gasped, and he smiled against her skin.
She buried her hand in his hair and yanked his head back with just enough force to make him hiss.
“How did you know?”
“You were so insistent that Tyler didn’t run away that there wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to leave it alone.” He bit his bottom lip and grinned. “So I had you followed.”
“What the fuck?” She pushed against his shoulders, but he held her fast and stood before her.
“Are you seriously going to get all indignant right now? You just confessed to going behind my back on my case. You’re not on the side of right in this,” he said.
Her eyes flashed, and she crossed her arms. “You guys mentioned us speaking to them in the meeting this afternoon.”
He cupped her chin, but she yanked it out of his fingers. “Yes, and did I give you permission to go ahead and do it? Nope, I don’t think I did.”
“I’m not on your team. You can’t tell me what to do,” she said, fuming.
He backed her up a step, and another for no reason at all other than he could. He clasped her arms when she tried to turn away, careful not to hurt her. “Let me tell you something…you only got away with your visit tonight because I let you get away with it. I had the power to step in whenever I wanted. You only succeeded because I let you.”
She shot him a glare with hot eyes still burning with passion from their exchange just moments before. “You can be a real son of a bitch, Luca. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“All the time. And you know what? You want me anyway.”
“I hate you,” she said, seething.
“The fuck you do. I think you love me.”
She reared back as though she had been slapped and for a few seconds he wondered if he had it wrong, if she didn’t return his feelings.
And then her eyes glossed over with unshed tears.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” he asked.
She shook her head and glanced away. “Once we say it, it’s out there. No going back,” she whispered.
“Look at me,” he said.
Her chin wobbled as she tried to fight the emotions flooding her.
He pressed his lips to her temple and curled his hand around the back of her neck. “I love you, Jasmine.”
She turned into his embrace, wrapped her arms around his neck, and jumped into his arms. Her mouth pressed against his, causing a bite of pain, but he welcomed it. He welcomed the flood of their gritty pasts, their rough edges that collided whenever they were
together. She didn’t expect perfection, and he sure as fuck couldn’t deliver it.
And that was okay.
“Damn you, for making me feel it,” she gasped out.
He grabbed the back of her hair and pulled her lips from his. “Feel what?” he said.
Challenging her.
“I love you, dammit,” she whispered raggedly.
He let her hair go, and she dove for his mouth. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips.
Done with words, he sunk into her, into them. Sliding his tongue into her warm, sweet mouth he groaned. God, her taste, like cherries and vanilla, it burst on his tongue, and before he knew what the hell he was doing, he abandoned all grace and devoured her, desperate for more.
He turned with her to the bed and plopped her down on the edge. With a yank he wrenched his T-shirt over his head.
Her tank top followed right behind, landing on top of his discarded shirt.
His hands went to his belt, his eyes to her round breasts as they danced in the soft light of the room while she shimmied out of her shorts.
The leather sang as it slid out of the belt loops. With a flick of two buttons, he didn’t even bother with his zipper and yanked his jeans off, desperate to be free of the fabric and bury himself inside her.
Her gaze went straight to his hard cock. Her eyes widened, and her pink tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip.
She reached for him, her hot hand wrapping around his hard length, sending agonizing pleasure singing through him.
He’d been fighting an almost constant state of arousal around her for weeks and he’d had just about enough. But Jasmine showed mercy on his poor soul.
Her slim fingers curled around the back of his thighs, pulling him to her.
He sank his hand into her long, silken hair, but didn’t guide her. He wanted to see what she would do of her own volition.
That’s when her hot, wet mouth opened up and swallowed the bulk of his length, her tongue rolling along the side of his cock, exploring the ridges and veins as she dragged her mouth back and then sucked him in again.
His ass cheeks flexed, and his hips thrust involuntarily, sending his cock deeper, eliciting a surprised moan from her.
“Fuck me, where did you learn to suck cock like that?”
She dragged her head back, and he popped out of her mouth. Grinning up at him, her lips glistened from the mouth hug she had given him. “You really want to know that?”
He clenched his jaw, irritated with the direction of his thoughts. “No,” he grunted out. The idea of another man touching her had blood shooting through his veins at such a high speed he might just stroke out right here before he ever experienced the feel of her pussy milking him.
He captured her damp lips and kissed her, leaning with her, until she lay out on the bed like an offering.
Her breasts rose and fell with the harsh breaths heaving from her lungs. He dragged a finger straight down the center, over her sternum, and enjoyed the sound of her frustrated hiss as her nipples tightened impossibly hard.
They had to ache.
He could fix that.
He leaned over and flicked one tight peak with the end of his tongue. Such a simple movement, a hint of the sensations yet to come, and she arched with the thrill of it.
“Do that again,” she whispered as she clenched the comforter in her fist.
Leaning down to the other tight peak, he did her one better and sucked it full into his mouth, rolling it over his tongue before biting down, just a bit. He slid his hand between her thighs and smiled as she slickened around the two fingers he slid inside her.
“Someone likes that,” he murmured against her nipple before blowing on the wet tip.
She shivered and thrust her hips, driving his fingers in deeper. “More,” she cried out.
He bent his head and lowered his lips to the soft skin just below her navel. “More what?”
“Everything. Your mouth, your fingers, give it all to me,” she begged as she fucked his hand with ragged thrusts of her hips, her pussy bumping against his chin.
He took a deep breath and soaked in the musky scent of her only growing stronger with every slide of his fingers.
“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweets. I’m going to push my palm against you, right here.” He applied pressure to the top of her pussy, just over her clit, and rubbed as she continued to thrust against his hand. “Then I’m going to suck those sweet nipples of yours while you fuck against my palm.” He rubbed the tight peak between his thumb and index finger, rolling it, and earning a harder thrust from her. “And we’re going to do that until you come. You hear me? I’m going to suck those tits until you’re screaming for more.”
She growled, her eyes narrowing to slits, her hands clawing at his skin. “Stop talking about it and fucking do it, damn you.”
He wasn’t gentle, some part of him broke free, the part that hated himself for the pain he’d caused his sister—afraid of the future because of the changes with Mason finding Lily and him falling for Jasmine, and what all of it meant for their business going forward, and the part of him that, as much as he told himself not to get his hopes up, wanted Jasmine and Lily to be the keys that helped them solve their sister’s mystery and would free him from the prison he’d relegated himself to for the past twenty years.
He strained against her, his arm muscles singing from the movement, his lips numb from the assault on her breasts. “Come, dammit!” he growled against her skin before dragging his teeth over her sensitive nipple.
Her scream pierced the still night air as she came. Her back arched impossibly far as spasm after spasm had her gasping for air and tears rolling out of the corners of her eyes.
Soaked from her, he took back his hand and tasted her come on his fingers. She watched, her mouth parting, her hot cheeks aflame.
He cupped her chin. “Are you ready for me?”
She whimpered and nodded. His mouthy wench struck by pleasure so sweet it robbed her of the ability to speak.
He stood between her thighs and raised her ankles high, perching them on each of his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, the moment he’d been waiting for just a few inches away, he rubbed the tip of his cock against her wet heat. With a sure thrust, he slid into her, his eyes fairly rolling back in his head at the tight grip that grabbed him and promised to never let go.
And he wasn’t talking about that sweet spot between her thighs.
It was the way she wormed her way into his heart, a heart he thought he had built a fortress around.
But he had been wrong.
With each thrust, each cry that escaped her soft lips, he wandered farther into the labyrinth of the heart until he no longer knew the way out.
Pressure built at the base of his spine, driving him into her faster, harder, with less grace and a flood of need.
She sobbed. “Don’t stop. Oh, please, please, please,” she begged, the tears flooding her, leaving tracks down her skin.
Desperate need took over, the need to hold her as she came apart, the way she held him earlier that day. Pulling her ankles from his shoulders, he wrapped her legs around his hips, and lifted her into his arms.
The minute she locked her hands around his shoulders he hammered into her, the sound of their gasps, her sobs, and their hips crashing against each other filled his ears and pushed him into an explosion unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
He shouted with each pump, spilling himself into her.
Claiming her.
As she claimed him.
She turned fluid in his arms. He peeled back the comforter and laid her down before climbing in next to her. His hands traced over her skin, over and over, while her heartrate slowed, and her breathing evened out.
“There are things you need to know about tonight. From our time at the Mishlers,” she said quietly.
“I know.” He smoothed his hand along her hair and waited her out.
“How?”
“If ther
e wasn’t, would you have confessed?” he asked.
“No,” she mumbled.
“That’s how I know.”
“Tyler was molested. That’s why he kept running away.”
“Shit.” He squeezed his eyes shut.
“It was a good friend of Eric’s. Tyler’s baseball coach.”
“That’s not all, is it?”
“No,” she said.
“But you don’t want to tell me the rest?”
“No,” she said again.
“Why?”
“Because it’s not enough to help you, but it’s going to hurt you.”
It didn’t matter. He needed to hear it. Whatever it was. At least he had her right there with him. He wasn’t alone with his pain anymore.
“Tell me,” he whispered against her bare shoulder, bracing himself for the blow.
“Your sister is alive.”
The sound filling the room sounded like a wounded, wild animal.
Only it was him.
She rolled over, and he pulled her to him.
He held on as he choked on tears of anguish while the storm took him.
When she went missing he had convinced himself her heart no longer beat. She no longer existed in this world.
There was a sweet relief in that.
She no longer suffered hurt. She no longer relived the last moments watching them leave her.
But she was alive.
He had no way of knowing how much she’d endured over the years. No way to know if she replayed that moment in her mind millions of times.
No way of knowing if he would ever find her.
He lay broken in Jasmine’s arms and waited for the sweet relief of sleep.
Chapter 8
The sound of Luca’s phone pulled her from a fitful sleep. “Luca?” she shook him, but he grumbled and went still again.
“Luca, it’s your phone,” she said louder.
He sat up and dug his fingers into his eyes before scrambling for his jeans. The phone stopped ringing right before he reached it, setting off a stream of swear words that would make a sailor blush. He hit the button and held the phone to his ear.
“Dante? Sorry, took me a minute to get ahold of my phone.”