by Jax Garren
She pressed harder, cupping him. “That’s okay. Just give me a little time.” She leaned in and whispered, “I have plans for you.”
She slid her hand beneath the waistband of his pants. Her skin dragged against his in a shocking trail of sensation. He dug his fingers into the mattress and breathed, trying to block the whirl of emotions beating at him. The only thing he wanted to feel was the exquisite pleasure of her touch.
She stroked him once then stilled. “You’re smooth! There’s no, uh...” She stopped suddenly, as if her brain had taken a moment to catch up with her mouth.
Yup. Perfect function. No chance to use it. The great irony of his burning—until now. “Doctors said I must’ve lain down and curled up around my hands. Protected them and everything else inside. It’s why my back’s worse than my front.” He had other theories too, revolving around the priorities of a randy god with healing powers. But those theories didn’t matter right now, because Jolie’s hand had encircled his crown.
“I didn’t know that. About the burning pattern, I mean.” She stroked him with a smooth, even pressure that had him craving more. “I hope you’ll show me, though.”
“Uh-huh.” In the back of his mind he realized he’d just agreed to take his shirt off. But that also didn’t matter because her nails were scraping gently up the front of his shaft.
“So a light touch works here?” She cradled his balls and fondled the space right behind them.
“Yes. Yes. Good.”
She shifted her weight back and kneeled between his thighs. “I’m pushing this out of my way.” Slowly, giving him plenty of time to protest, she loosened the drawstring of his pants and freed him from those confines. Her eyes glowed as she sucked in a breath. “Damn, boy, you are impressive.”
Male ego swelled in ways he’d almost forgotten. Very little of him was impressive anymore, but if she wanted to admire his dick, he wasn’t going to protest.
Her hands worked him again, sending warm pleasure through him. She smiled, focused happily on her task. Her wet hair fell over her shoulders and her breasts bounced lightly as she moved. The sight took his breath away.
“You like that?” She shimmied her shoulders, making her chest wiggle.
He reached for her and caught one breast. “Gods, sweetheart, you are something else.”
She leaned down, brushing her body against his. “Oh, honey, you haven’t seen ‘something else’ yet.” Her chest dragged down his, pulling from his grasp. She caught his cock between her tits and squeezed.
Reflexively his hips jerked up into the soft, enveloping pressure. She rubbed her body over him, overloading his senses, and he didn’t care anymore.
“And this Friday, if you’re free, you’re going to come over to my place.”
“Uh-huh.” He would go wherever she wanted to feel like this again.
“And I’m going to put my mouth on that beautiful cock and suck until you scream for mercy.”
“Oh, gods.” He was going to come. With a woman. Better, with Jolie. Right now.
“And then I’m going to strip, and you can make me come however you want.”
He scrabbled his fingers at her, trying to push her away. He was going to lose it all over her. “I’m going to—babe, I’m going to—”
She arched an eyebrow and squeezed him harder. “That is the plan.” She leaned down. “I want you dripping all over me.”
His body clenched as pleasure ignited through him. He called her name, the only woman he ever wanted again, and found his release against her body.
For a moment, he was whole again. He clutched Jolie, the one who brought him back to himself, and pulled her to him. She made soft, satisfied noises as she wiggled against him, dropping kisses on his cheeks.
The limitations were gone. He could do anything. He could be anything. He brushed her hair back from her face, and she grinned up at him, so proud of herself.
Utterly content, he stroked a thumb across her lips and up her temple. “Aw, Jolie. I love you.”
She blinked. Stiffened. The ease left her face, replaced by the pleasant mask she wore to hide her thoughts.
He’d made a mistake.
Chapter Six
“Dammit.” He ducked his head. The moment was perfect, so of course he had to go and fuck it up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...”
Fake smile firmly in place, she waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Guys say things they don’t mean during sex. I don’t take it seriously.”
She was giving him an out, and maybe he should roll with it. But her dismissal pissed him off, so he shot his mouth instead. “No, I meant it. I’m not going to tell a woman I love her just because she got me off. Even if it has been...way too long. I’m well aware that’s not love.” He searched her expression, desperate to see something real beyond the mask. “Have you not noticed that I’m crazy about you?”
Her teeth worried her lower lip. Though she didn’t try to pull away from him, she shifted uncomfortably in his arms and wouldn’t face him. “I don’t know what to say.”
Oh. That was it. She didn’t feel the same but didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He’d been well aware she didn’t return his affection, but to face it hollowed him inside. Hollowed and crushed him small.
Still, to have her here was better than the alternative. He had to fix it, make her comfortable again so she’d stay. “I’m not going to break, sweetheart. You don’t have to say anything.” He wanted to catch her chin and make her meet his eyes, but he wasn’t in the habit of making people he cared about look at him. So he let her focus remain on the pillow. “I didn’t say that to pressure you. I don’t know why I said it. I...” He took a breath and stroked her hair, fighting to ease the vise on his heart. “I just want you to know, I guess. But I don’t expect you to repeat it back to me. I wouldn’t believe you if you did.”
Her eyes shot to his. “Why not?”
“Timing?” That wasn’t true. He ran a finger across the locked-in, faux-perfection of her impersonal smile. “It’s that shuttering in your eyes and the stiffness in your jaw. You’re putting on a show right now. You started the moment I told you I loved you.”
She stiffened further and worry crept into her eyes.
He huffed in resignation. “Yes, I can tell when you’re faking. I have no idea what’s actually going on in your head, but I have paid enough attention that I can tell when you’re not really smiling. And I hate it. I don’t want you to feel like you have to fake a smile for me. And I definitely don’t want you to tell me you love me unless you know you mean it. I can wait.”
In a brittle voice she said, “You’ll be waiting a long time.”
He felt her words like a slap. Winced. Nodded. Forced himself to say, “Okay. That’s fine.” Not fine at all. Dammit, he loved her. And she didn’t think she could feel the same.
Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she shook her head. “That came out wrong. That’s not what I...” She shifted away, and the drying remains of their lovemaking cracked. A high, false laugh escaped her as she attempted a teasing tone. “I need to wash this off or I’ll be permanently stuck to you.” The warmth of her body skipped from the bed, leaving him cold. “You might want to change your shirt.”
Like an escaping rabbit, she darted to the bathroom. He lay back on the bed, cursing his stupidity.
Her voice surprised him when she halted at the screen. “I’m sorry, Hauk. I’m awful at this. Forgive me.”
He leaned up on his elbows. Distress crunched her expression and, despite his pain, he felt for her. “Are you coming back?” he asked.
“Coming back where?”
“To bed. After you clean up, are you coming back here and staying the night?”
The lines on her face deepened with confusion. “Well, yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t...” Her eyes widened. “Do you not want me to?”
He relaxed somewhat. “Of course I want you to.” He hauled himself out of bed to grab a new shirt. “And there’s nothing to fo
rgive.”
* * *
Jolie stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, trying to remember the last time she’d fucked up quite that royally. Her breath rushed in and out like she’d run a race, and her shoulders were almost fearfully tense. But Hauk didn’t want her to leave. He’d taken her craptastic reaction to his earnest pronouncement and was going to let her stay anyway.
Her reaction was out of bounds. It wasn’t like it was the first time anyone had said those words to her; she’d heard proclamations of love over and over her whole life. “I love you” was the phrase a man used to get into a girl’s bed and into her bank account. They were the words her family said before, “So I can’t allow you to...” and their justification for every condemnation uttered since she quit living her life under their terms.
Speaking those words was also the required ritual before a man handed over a ring, the symbol of a contractual merger between two power families in the world’s oldest business deal. She knew how jaded that sounded, but she’d also turned down two of those at Princeton. It was where the chasm had started between her and her family. She was “beautiful enough” that one polite turn-down was acceptable, but two? And to a Crawford, no less. What more did she expect?
She pushed aside the painful memories of her mother’s anger and her father’s disapproval. Of her sister’s confusion and everyone’s disappointment. Of Aaron’s beautiful smile and black heart.
With a click, the shower door shut behind her and the water came back on, washing away the amazing experience she’d shared with Hauk.
When Hauk said he loved her, he didn’t mean any of those things that had caused her grief. But she’d long ago had any other definition disillusioned out of her. She felt something for him, something important, and maybe that was what he meant by love. But defining her feelings through words was not something she felt she could do, at least not yet, and she’d known Hauk wouldn’t want her to tell a comforting lie.
It was one of the things she liked best about him. And one of the things that terrified her, that rigid demand for honesty when she’d been so well-trained that to care for someone was to fake a smile and pretend everything was fine. She agreed with Hauk. But she didn’t know how to do it his way.
Clean but feeling bereft, she slunk out of the bathroom. Hauk lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling with one arm propped behind his head. He looked so lovely there, despite his scars, so strong and full of purpose. She’d never known anybody like him. Had never respected anybody half so much.
She felt like she should say something but couldn’t for the life of her come up with anything guaranteed to salve the damage she’d done. So she crawled into bed beside him and stroked a hand across his chest. He’d changed shirts. She’d been so sure she could use the mess as a way to get him out of the fabric and a little more naked beside her.
Not gonna happen now.
Still, he tugged her hand across him and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled closer to him, pressing her face against his neck to breathe in the lemony smell of his laundry and the smoky scent that seemed a part of his skin, or did in her imagination anyway.
She may have disappointed him, but he didn’t ask her to change, just took her the way she was. She held him a little tighter, trying to speak her gratitude with a touch.
He brushed her hair with his fingers, and she hoped he understood.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Her greedy little heart gave a thump, and she was surprised how much she longed to hear, “Goodnight, my love.” Not that she’d done anything to deserve that. She pressed her lips against his collarbone. “Good night, babe. I’m looking forward to Friday.”
He chuckled low as his hand passed across her brow. “Me, too.”
And that was good enough for now.
Chapter Seven
An alarm beeped an unfamiliar tone, and Hauk’s eyes popped open. Jolie groaned and plastered herself against his chest, as if she could avoid the sound by burrowing into him. Despite the way last night had ended, her impression of the world’s cutest groundhog made him smile. Especially as it was his pectorals she wallowed against.
She was here. It was enough. It had to be enough.
The alarm came from her phone. Any moment she would lift her head and see him. The familiar fear of rejection dried the back of his throat, but he pushed it away. This was Jolie. She may not share his feelings, but she would see him and smile because that’s what she always did.
Please. See me and smile.
With another growl of protest, she reached for her phone. Red hair tumbled around her face in a messy curtain, gracing her freckles and shadowing angry green eyes. She lunged for the button and in the ensuing silence redirected her frown at him.
He held his breath.
Her eyes lit up, and a smile blew away all her irritation. Her hands cupped his face, and she kissed him. “Good morning.”
His breath left in a relieved burst as she snuggled back against him.
“Don’t wanna go to class.” She squeezed him tighter. “Wanna stay here.”
He chuckled and wrapped his arms back around her. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Don’t tempt me.” She didn’t move. “But my first class is run by one of the profs who’ll be on my dissertation committee, and he’s known for having a long memory.” She rolled over to sit, grabbed her phone and started tapping. “Then it’s Dr. E’s class. Then our workout?”
“Like normal.”
She frowned at her phone. “And...I can’t check my email because I’m on airplane mode until I leave. Yay, inconveniences of a secret base.”
“You check your email first thing in the morning?”
She grinned sheepishly. “Among other social media addictions. But you know what?” Her voice turned husky in a way that garnered his full attention. “I can’t check those. And I’m right under campus, instead of having to come to class from downtown.” She rolled back to him and slid her thigh between his legs to grind against the morning woody that had just gotten a lot more demanding.
“Uh-huh.”
“So if you don’t mind making me breakfast while I go find some clothes...” Her hand glided down his chest to cover his erection. “I should have time to take care of something that came up last night.”
“Chef Haukon at your service.”
She freed his cock once again, and he gasped.
He had no idea how he was ever going to give her up.
* * *
Jolie followed the directions she’d written on her hand to get to “clothing row,” the line of residences where the seamstresses and knitters had gathered to sell their wares in one spot. The Underlight usually worked on a barter system, and she didn’t really have anything to trade. But she needed something to wear that would keep her warmer than her tank top, fit less tent-like than Hauk’s clothes and have fewer blood stains than her sweatshirt.
She pushed away a shiver that gory memory brought. Poor Cassie. Jolie hadn’t known her particularly well; somebody else was dealing with the brunt of that anguish. But her death never should’ve happened. Hopefully they could find Ric Suarez and learn what he was doing so they could stop more violence from happening to somebody else.
The wooden double doors to the only room in the Underlight with a lock were thrown wide open, announcing that someone was manning the room where the ready-made clothes were sold. Jolie breathed a sigh of relief and hiked her purse tighter over her shoulder. The residents also took cash. She had some, but not a ton, on hand. Hauk had assured her they’d also take an IOU from other Underlighters.
Technically Jolie was one, though sometimes she still felt like an outsider. Maybe she’d start with the knitters. They seemed pretty solidly on her side.
“Jolie!” She turned to find Mercedes jogging down the hall.
“Hey!” She waited and gave her troupe-mate a hug. “What’re you doing down here so early?” Like Jolie, Mercy lived in the city proper.
“Oh, don’t congratulate me yet. We’re still a mess.”
“Hm. I’d love to hear more, but right now I’m on a mission. Still up for costuming tonight so I can interrogate you?” She nudged her playfully. “Or you got other plans again?”
“Still up for costuming. We’re not going out again ’til Friday.”
“A whole day apart? Big, messy problems, I can tell. Oh, wait. You’re probably still working out together every day. Never mind.” They entered the shop. “You know, naked sparring in public locations is usually frowned upon.”
Jolie laughed. “I don’t think public displays of nudity will be a problem with Hauk.” Seeing as private nudity was a no-go.
The shop was small but not at all cramped. A few select articles of clothing were displayed on wire-molded frames, two of which were made with Hauk’s distinctive swirling style. Jolie headed for one of them, more interested in the graceful, metallic lines than the fabric hanging on them. She loved how so many ordinary, utilitarian pieces in the Underlight had artistry instead of mere functionality.
“Adopting kids?”
“Huh?” Jolie glanced down at the outfit. The jumper might fit her twelve-year-old niece. “Oh, uh...”
“Miss Benoit?” The shopkeeper sounded surprised.
Jolie frowned at the sound of her last name. One of these days, people would quit thinking of her as her father’s daughter.
Mercy turned a charming smile at the man, whose name Jolie couldn’t remember. “David! How are you this fine morning?” Under her breath, she whispered to Jolie, “Don’t come down here often, do you.”
“First time,” Jolie whispered back.
Mercy’s eyebrows lifted in surprise before she shook her head as if berating a naughty child.
Jolie didn’t have a chance to ask what that was about because David was in front of them, rigid with hostile formality. Not one of her fans, apparently. Suddenly her empty purse felt a lot emptier. She cleared her throat. “I need a shirt.”