by Lori Foster
“No,” he said again.
She set the bowl down in the sink. “Stop thinking so much,” she said, touching his cheek. “I can think of something that doesn’t require thinking at all.”
“Really?” The light in his eyes changed. It had been soft, almost sweet a moment ago. Not now. Now it was sharp. Predatory.
“Yes, really.”
She reached between them and grabbed his belt, tugging him forward. She ran her hands over his chest, confidence filling her. Because Jace was the most enthusiastic lover she’d ever had. Because he made her feel confident. Beautiful. More aggressive. And safe. Even when he took her to the edge, Jace made her feel safe.
She skimmed her fingers over his abs and nearly whimpered. He was so freaking hot.
With one hand, she worked at his belt buckle, the other enjoying all of his amazing muscles. Then she got frustrated with her one-handed technique and attacked the belt with both hands, pushing his pants and underwear down to the floor, dropping to her knees in front of him.
They hadn’t done this yet. She hadn’t. Because...stupidly maybe, it seemed so intimate. And now she wanted to taste him so bad she was shaking with the need for it. To bring it back down to sex—that was why. To stop him from saying all these sweet things. To stop him from talking about her living here full-time, like that could ever happen.
She cupped him, sliding her palm up and over his shaft, squeezing him gently before leaning in and tracing the head of his cock with her tongue. He sifted his fingers through her hair, tugging hard when she took him into her mouth.
A harsh curse escaped his lips, and he tugged harder as she moved her hand in time with her lips and tongue. And she liked it. This was raw. This was sex. This was something she could understand.
It was Jace, her lover. The man who made her feel as if she could do anything to his body and he would like it. The man who whispered dirty promises in her ear at night.
Not the man she ate cupcakes with. Not the man who hated dog hair and kept a small vacuum in his pickup truck to take care of dirt.
This was the easiest way to put a sharp divide between those two men, and she needed the divide. Without it, things were too dangerous. Without it, Jace was everything.
She pushed that terrifying thought away and focused on pleasuring him. On how hot and hard he was, on how perfect. On how this had never, ever been an arousing act to her before, but had her on the brink now.
“Enough,” he growled, tugging lightly on her hair. She followed the motion, rising to her feet, breathing hard, her entire body shaking. “I need you,” he said, his voice rough.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and gripped her thigh with his other hand, lifting her and setting her on the counter with one smooth motion. He pushed her skirt up to her hips, his hands rough as he pulled her wool tights and then her panties down her legs.
He held her open to him, thrusting hard inside of her, kissing her deep, in time with his thrusts. His desperation fed hers, her heart hammering so hard she thought it would eventually come to a dead stop, too exhausted to beat once more.
He pulled away from her, then entered her again, slowly this time, his eyes on hers, intense, dark, predatory, but for some reason, the line between Jace her friend and Jace her lover, blurred. And they became one man.
He became everything.
A choked sob rose in her throat and she wanted to close her eyes. To bury her face in his neck like she’d done the first time. To hide from what they were doing. From what she was feeling.
But along with the pressure, the emotion building in her chest was the climax building deep inside of her, tension that was winding tighter and tighter. A sob broke through her lips, and still she looked at him, at his eyes. And she saw the emotion there. Flecks of light breaking through that dark gleam.
Something that went beyond sex. Something that pulled hard at her heart, at all of the feelings swirling inside of her. That forced the desire, the building climax and all of the emotion into one massive knot that made it impossible to breathe.
Panic assaulted her, and she tried to fight it. Tried to fight everything. The feelings. The desire. But it was too late. She was too far gone.
“Oh, Sam,” Jace said, his voice rough, broken as he thrust, harder and faster. And his voice, her name on his lips, his heat and hardness around her, in her, pushed her over the edge.
Everything shattered around her, shards digging inside, splintering the knot that had built into tiny glass slivers that burned through her, stuck into every part of her. Pain and pleasure in equal parts. A tear slipped down her cheek as the wave of her release washed through her, soothing the burn left behind by the emotion.
But only for a moment. The wave was salt on a wound, leaving her feeling raw, in pain, in the aftermath of the most incredible, devastating release of her life.
Jace lowered his head, kissing her, desperate, intense. It wasn’t sexual, it was something more. A bid for connection, for an even deeper closeness. When they parted he kissed her forehead, her cheek. “I love you,” he said, his voice broken. “Samantha, I love you.”
Chapter Ten
She shook her head and tried to look away. “Samantha,” he said again, cupping her chin, redirecting her focus, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I love you.”
“No,” she said. “No.”
“Sam...”
“No!” She pulled away from him and got off of the counter, panic surging through her, her entire body shaking. She pushed her skirt down her hips, covering herself.
“I do,” he said.
“Stop it. That’s not what this was. This wasn’t supposed to change anything.”
“Too damn bad. It changed everything.”
“But I didn’t want it to!”
“And what, Sam, you honestly believed it wouldn’t? Honestly?”
“I don’t know. You’re a guy and...”
“I am your best friend, Samantha. I would never use you that way. Ever. How could you not know I had feelings for you?”
“Because you said,” she began, her voice shaking, “you said we’d just get it out of our systems.”
“I thought maybe it was possible,” he said, his voice unsteady, too. “But not after. Not after it happened.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Why?” He moved closer to her, still naked, his expression stark, raw. Painful. “Why can’t you do this with me?”
“I don’t know if I can ever do this with anyone.”
“But why not me, Sam? Don’t you feel something for me?”
“Jace...you are...you’re my rock. You’re my...everything. And me and men...it never works. I don’t know how to have that kind of relationship. I don’t like it. I don’t...do well with it.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t! It’s never worked.”
“It was never me.”
“Like that would really change anything?” she asked, regretting the words as she spoke them, panic driving her on. “My mom left me, Jace. My mom left me here and never came back. She didn’t even care. I don’t...people don’t stay with me.”
“And I’ve only stood by you for fourteen years. Not much of a guarantee.”
“It’s different. I... Jace....” She took a deep breath. “I have had so much...so much loss. And not a moment of stability, until you. I need you. Don’t you understand? I need you where you were. I need my friend. My support system.” She put her hand on his cheek. “If I don’t have you here to hold me up, my whole world will crumble and I can’t risk that for sex, for...for this idea of love when I’ve never, ever seen that version of it last.”
Jace stumbled back as if he’d been punched in the stomach, and she felt the impact in hers.
“Tell me you understand,” she whi
spered.
He nodded, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “I understand.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“I understand, but I’m not going to do it.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to be your fucking support system,” he said, his tone hard, even. “I am not here to prop you up. Stand on your own damn feet, Samantha. You aren’t a child. You’re a grown woman, and I’m a man. I’m not going to be half a person to you. Just here to fill your needs. Because I want everything. I want to be your friend. I want to be your lover. I want to be your husband.”
She felt as if her world was falling away, the ground disintegrating, slipping from beneath her feet. “Jace...”
“You can’t have me only on your terms.”
“So, I can only have you on yours?” she asked, a tear sliding down her cheek. “That’s not fair. That’s...”
“Put your dog on the couch. Let her drink out of the toilet, wash the dishes with your thumb, bake pies inside cakes—that’s fine as long as I can have you. I want you, Sam. But I want all of you. Not half.”
“Maybe...maybe you feel like that now. And maybe you want me now. But in five years? I don’t...I don’t think you will. And it’s not worth it to me. There’s too much risk and I...I can’t.”
She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth, as she watched them hit Jace with the force of a slap. He swallowed hard, the expression on his face so pained it tore into her guts.
“Great. Then that’s...fine. But I’m going to need you to go somewhere else.”
“Where? I can’t...where?”
“Then I will. I’m going to a hotel.”
“You can’t leave your own house.”
“I’m not staying here with you.”
He bent and picked his clothes up off the floor, putting them on as quickly as possible. He walked away from her into the living room, grabbing his T-shirt off the back of the couch.
Poppy lifted her head from where she was sleeping in front of the fire, unperturbed until that moment.
Jace flung open the closet and pulled out his hat and coat, putting both of them on before going to the door and picking up his keys and wallet.
Horror crept over her, along with the realization that he really was leaving. “Jace!”
He turned to look at her, waiting for her to speak.
“You won’t really go. We’re friends...we...”
He shook his head. “No. Text me when you figure out somewhere else to stay that will take Poppy.”
“Your animals...”
“I’ll come back to take care of them. We won’t run into each other.”
He put his hand on the doorknob and anger shot through her, rescuing her from dissolving into tears. “You’re throwing away fourteen years of friendship because of sex?” she spat. “Then maybe what we had didn’t mean as much as I thought it did.”
“No, Sam. You’re throwing away love because of fear.” He opened the door, a shaft of cold air bursting through the comfortable warmth of the house, and then he slammed the door behind him. And he was gone.
Really gone.
Her legs wobbled, gave out beneath her, and she went to her knees, to the floor, too numb to cry. She heard his truck motor. Heard the vehicle roar through the snow and out of the driveway.
Poppy got up and wandered, not to where Samantha was on the floor, but to the door, whining, the high-pitched sound hitting Sam right in her heart, pain splintering outward.
She moved over to where Poppy sat, wrapping her arms around the big dog, and she buried her face in her fur. And then she cried as if she’d lost her best friend.
Because she had.
* * *
Jace hated motel rooms. They weren’t his, and he hated that feeling. But it seemed to fit right now because his body didn’t feel like it was his, either.
It was numb. All of him was. And for now, he was thankful for that fact. Because like any good physical injury, once the shock wore off it was going to smart like a son of a bitch.
He wasn’t looking forward to that.
Fortunately, he could prolong the moment by downing some whiskey. And then, in the morning, maybe, just maybe his head would hurt more than his heart.
He popped the top on the bottle and debated pouring a glass, then decided against it. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a long drink.
Class act. But who the hell cared? No one. Apparently, no one cared.
Not Sam.
He replayed the scene in his mind. Every ugly word that had flown between them. He’d done the right thing by leaving. He had. Because if he had stayed, he would have to watch her finally find the guy who melted her reserve. The man who would make her want to take a chance on things she clearly didn’t want to take a chance on with him.
“You can’t have me only on your terms.”
“So, I can only have you on yours?”
Was that what he was doing? His way or the highway?
No. She wanted him to be her damn crutch through life, and he deserved more than that.
You love her, but you’re taking yourself out of her life completely as punishment for not feeling the same way? For being afraid? Asshole.
So what? He took another drink. He deserved more. He deserved more than a mess of a house and a mother who loved garbage more than she loved people. He deserved more than a friend who loved safety more than she loved him.
And maybe she deserved more than a love with conditions.
He took another drink and stared out the window at the snow. He had a feeling his heart and his pride were going to do battle tonight.
And he had no idea who was going to win.
* * *
Samantha slept on the floor by the fire with Poppy. Well, she didn’t really sleep. She tossed and turned, her entire body aching.
She hadn’t known heartbreak was physical. Hadn’t known she would really feel as if a part of herself had shattered. She’d imagined she’d felt heartbreak before, but she’d been wrong.
Nothing was like this. Nothing.
Being in Jace’s house without him was a special kind of hell. She needed to find another place to stay, but she didn’t want to. Because it smelled like him here.
She wanted to crawl into his bed and inhale his scent, wrap herself in it.
But she denied herself. Because she didn’t deserve it.
She kept replaying her own words, hearing how small they sounded. How pitifully meager in light of what he’d offered.
She pulled her knees up against her chest. She’d lost him now. In every way. As her support. As her lover. As her friend.
She wanted to be angry. To scream at him and say this was why she couldn’t do it. Because losing him would hurt too much.
Because it did hurt too much.
So much. So much she didn’t know if she would survive it.
He left because he offered you his heart, and you asked him for something else. You didn’t offer a damn thing.
A tear rolled down her cheek and she squinted, the light from the fire blurring into orange stars, the heat on her face doing nothing to heat the chill in her soul.
It was the truth. He’d laid it all on the line, and she’d rejected it. Rejected him.
Because she’d been afraid. But not of what she’d thought.
The realization made a sob catch in her throat. Jace was already everything to her. No matter what she’d let herself think. No matter what lies she’d told herself.
She hadn’t needed to share his bed for him to have her heart. He’d always had it. Always. It was why she’d never let her relationships progress past a certain point. It was why no one had ever been important enough to replace him in her life, to come betwee
n the two of them.
She loved him. She’d always loved him.
He was her everything. Not just her support, but her everything.
And what would happen when he realized that she could never be his? That was her real fear. That he would suddenly look at her and see what her father must have seen when he decided to walk out. What her mother must have seen when she’d let her teenage daughter stay behind in a different state.
That he would realize at some point she wasn’t worth all that emotion.
She closed her eyes and scooted closer to Poppy, resting her head on her dog’s shoulder. “What did I do?”
Chapter Eleven
Sam’s fingers were stiff by the time she raised her hand to knock on the motel room door. Her heater had decided to crap out in her damned van, and she’d been driving all over Bend, checking every hotel in mad pursuit of Jace, with Poppy in the back, happy as a clam among the pies. And the cherpumple, which, epic broken heart or not, she had to deliver today.
But she hadn’t opened her bakery today.
She had priorities.
She’d been to eight motels already and it was only seven-thirty in the morning. Because somewhere between midnight and the gray light of dawn, she’d made a decision.
Fear was a dumbass state to live in.
She was hiding from possible heartbreak by giving herself certain heartbreak.
More than that, she was being a lousy friend. Because Jace had never lied to her. He had never let her down. And she was judging him based on other people’s track records, and not his own.
And dammit, she loved that man, and she wanted him. For always. For keeps.
She stuck her hands in her armpits and waited. No one came to the door, but the front desk man had been certain that Jace Colter was indeed staying here and in this room. And when she’d given a little eyebrow wiggle and said she wanted to surprise him, the man had immediately given over a room number.
Because men were very predictable that way. And of course, he was not going to block Jace out of a potential lay. It was bad security.