All There Is (Juniper Hills Book 1)

by Violet Duke

  After laying her down on top of her comforters, he debated whether he should keep his jeans on or not.

  Clearly Emma was thinking “or not.”

  He hissed when he felt her hand undo the fly of his jeans. She demanded, “Why are all your clothes still on?”

  God, he loved it when she used that bossy tone. He looked up at her, and, sure enough, her cheeks were flushed. Freckles on full deployment.

  He had every intention of finding every last freckle on her body and kissing each one before the night was through.

  Damn. If possible, he’d just grown another hard inch. And her muffled murmur of appreciation wasn’t helping. Neither were the soft kisses she was placing along his one-slight-breeze-away-from-bursting length.

  A long few seconds later, he had to gently yank himself away from her. His entire body vibrated with the effort it took.

  Jeans were definitely staying on.

  “Sweetheart, we don’t have to rush this. We’ve only had a few dates. Sex can wait. I want us to wait.”

  She gave him a dubious look. “And the stairs were . . .” Her expression hardened. “If you tell me that was a mistake, I’m switching you back to decaf.”

  He blanched. Well, that was almost enough to get his raging hard-on under control. “Woman, don’t joke about that. I’m still traumatized from the last time.”

  Burying his lips against her neck as he dropped onto the bed beside her, he smiled when he heard her grouse that she wasn’t joking. “Of course I don’t think it was a mistake. I didn’t say we can’t keep doing that. We’re definitely doing more of that. Right now, in fact.” He started sliding his palms down those sanity-stealing curves of hers.

  Emma snapped her thighs closed—with his hand happily trapped—and, swear to God, he almost came just a little bit. “Wait a minute. You’re saying it’s okay for you to make me come all over the place, but you won’t let me do the same for you?”

  Good lord.

  Raggedly he dropped his forehead down onto her chest, praying for strength when he saw how thin her shirt was. One good tug would shred the fabric and he’d be able to taste her soft skin.

  Focus, Jake.

  He forced his mouth away from the pebbled nipple tempting him.

  Erection hard as a spike, he tried to stop all the rabid lust from coursing through his system. “I didn’t say that. I said let’s not rush having sex.” He nibbled on the exposed skin at her shoulder and used his free hand to pull her shirt down just a tiny bit more—he was only human. “But other things, on my part, at least, I obviously want to keep doing. But you don’t have to. I know not all women enjoy that.”

  “Jake, look at me.”

  He wasn’t sure he had the strength.

  But the stubborn woman wasn’t taking no for an answer. Nor was she loosening her grip on his one trapped hand. Locking on to her cornflower-blue gaze, he prepared himself for a full-tactile assault of the Emma Stevens variety.

  He got a soft sigh from her instead. “You make me crazy—you know that, right?”

  He grinned. “Right back at you, babe.”

  She let his trapped hand free. “Do you really want to wait? Is it important to you? One thing I’ve learned about you is that you only get bullheaded about things when it’s important.” Her lips quirked up at the corner. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but I get bullheaded about stuff all the time.”

  No comment. He wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole.

  “But you.” She sighed again. “You’re serious—aren’t you? Waiting is important to you.”

  He loved that she got him. “It is.”

  “Can you tell me why?” She chewed on her lower lip nervously. “You’re not . . . this isn’t your first . . .”

  He barked out a laugh. God, she was cute. “No. I’m not a virgin, sweetheart.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Not with how hard you made me—” Her cheeks burned bright red.

  “Woman, you need to stop deploying your freckles. I’m trying to dial it down a notch, remember?” He dropped a kiss onto each new freckle he found on her bare shoulder. Forget her bourbon pecan pudding, Emma’s skin was his new favorite dessert.

  “Jake. Focus.”

  “I would if you weren’t so damn wet,” he complained as his fingers slid up her thigh to find her even wetter, hotter than she’d been on the stairs.

  “Jake.” She grabbed his hand, then really got his attention by using the other hand to grab—

  “Christ, Emma.” He was a weak, weak man. And with each slow pump of her hand, he was getting weaker by the second. “You’re going to make me come if you keep that up.”

  She stopped . . . only to slip her hand into his boxer briefs a moment later.

  “Now do I have your attention?”

  Hell, she could have anything she wanted at this point.

  Rubbing her thumb over his feverishly hot, almost painfully hard, shaft slowly, she asked again, “Why do you want to wait, Jake?”

  Wait? Wait for what? His lust-fogged brain could barely make sense of her words. He was T minus less than a minute from not waiting for anything.

  She squeezed gently and lazily began sliding her hand down . . .

  “Emma, stop.” Those two words earned him some sainthood points for sure. Especially when she dragged his boxer briefs down completely and took him in both hands.

  Holy hell, that feels good.

  Jeez, focus Jake.

  Only the woman had no intention of letting him focus. On anything other than the feel of her mouth on him.

  She looked up at him through her lashes as she traced her tongue over his entire length.

  “Sweetheart, you don’t have to do this.”

  She closed her mouth over him fully and drew him to the back of her throat.

  Yeah, she was right. He should stop talking.

  A throttled groan rumbled out of his chest. It’d been a while, so he couldn’t say with absolute certainty, but he was pretty sure that mind-erasing swivel move she was doing was brand-new in the world of blow jobs.

  His hands slid into her hair, just to hold her, not guide her motions, because sweet lord, the woman was doing a bang-up job taking him from zero to sixty. Already he was starting to see colored spots in his vision, and his breathing was erratic at best, nonexistent at her very best.

  Like now, for example. There was absolutely no oxygen going up to his brain, and his lungs were burning and demanding he take in a goddamn breath of air, but he didn’t care. With each slow glide, her lips tightened over him and then relaxed each time she took him just a little bit deeper.

  And the vicelike grip she maintained with both hands at his base as she stroked her tongue over his hard shaft made for a perfect trifecta.

  He could feel his control slipping with each pulsing pass.

  Then she took him as deep as she could go.

  And swallowed.

  “Baby, I’m going to come,” he ground out the ragged warning through clenched teeth, sheer determination the only thing keeping him from spilling in her hot, wet mouth.

  The stubborn little thing just took that warning as a signal to swallow him down again, and work him with her throat, and he was done for.

  His vision darkened at the edges as the most violent orgasm of his life crashed over him and sucked him under the tide.

  When he came to a long, blurry second later, he found Emma trailing gentle kisses up his abdomen.

  He wanted to say something romantic. Or at least classy. But the best he could manage was, “Jesus Christ, Emma.”

  Her lips curled into a grin against his skin in response.

  “Now.” She sat up and locked on to his half-lidded gaze. “Tell me why you want to wait, Jake.”

  Whoa, the woman played hardball.

  He sighed and tried to put his rationale into words. It had been hard enough without the post-orgasm haze. Now he’d be lucky if he could explain it without botching it up. He decided to just say wh
at he’d been thinking ever since the possibility that something might be possible between the two of them first arose. “I know you don’t like thinking about our past, Emma, but I think about it all the time.”

  Her smile faded. “Oh.”

  She stopped with the distracting kisses and gave him a little more room to think. Whew.

  Knowing she was going to avoid his gaze, he gently gripped her chin to keep her eyes on his. “The reason why I want to wait is because, for me, this relationship started fourteen years ago. Just because we’re now adults doesn’t mean I want to rush what I’d wanted to start back then. Does that make sense?”

  Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “You think about that?”

  “All the time, sweetheart. I told you—I’ve thought about our first date for years. Our second date almost as long.”

  “H-how many dates have you thought up for us?”

  “Hundreds, at least. But the thing is, those were dates I’d planned for the teenage versions of us. I’m only now getting to know the adult version of you. And I want time to plan new dates for this version of you.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Because I think she’s pretty darn special.”

  “If you want me to stop deploying my freckles, you need to stop with all the sexy talk in that smoky voice of yours.”

  He smiled. “Sexy talk? I was just being honest.”

  “Exactly.” She exhaled.

  He rubbed his thumb over her heated cheeks. “If it helps, I can guarantee you’ll be driving me more crazy than I’ll be driving you.”

  “That does help, yes. Thank you.”

  He chuckled. “And I meant what I said about what we did on the stairs. We can, of course—”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” She pulled her shirt down and scooted up the mattress. “If you want to wait to have sex, then we’re going to wait completely.”

  “So earlier, when you made me come so hard I almost blacked out—”

  “You got to taste me once, so it was only fair I got to taste you once.”

  Jeez, he had to ask.

  “But from now on, if you’re going to wait, then so am I. A hundred percent.”

  Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

  “But—”

  “Nope.” She dragged a pillow over her lap. “Neither one of us is going to be revisiting tonight’s festivities until you and I both decide we’re ready for our relationship to have a whole lot of sex in it. Dirty, nonstop, do-it-on-every-available-surface sex. Sound like a plan?”

  He groaned. “Why do I get the feeling I just armed you with a whole lot of ammo?”

  Her only reply was a pair of innocently twinkling eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jake couldn’t believe he’d actually called up his brother to get his advice. Voluntarily. And not just any brother. Carter. The one whose philosophy in life basically whittled down to meddle until you can’t meddle anymore, then find an app that’ll make you an even more efficient meddler.

  But at this point, Jake was ready to try just about anything to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do.

  “Everything’s just so . . . perfect with Emma.” Jake cringed and rubbed his temples, knowing he sounded like a lunatic for having a problem with that. “That’s the only way to describe it the past few weeks with Emma. No issues. No conflict. All the time.”

  “Gee, that sucks,” replied a dry Carter, deadpan. “Are you also having a good hair day, too, man? Because I can find you a support group for that.”

  Jackass.

  Unfortunately, the jackass had a point. Jake had yet to get to the root of the problem. And Carter was simply doing what he did best to get Jake to dig deeper.

  The only problem was, Jake had no clue where to dig. Or what the heck he was looking for. Or why he was even burrowing into that hole to begin with.

  The dates had all been perfect, yes. But Emma was still holding back. It was in the little things she did. Like when she’d stop herself from talking about the past too much. Or when she’d get uneasy and awkward when they were watching TV and the late-breaking news showed something about a big fire. Or when she’d immediately change the subject when folks around town would casually invite them to an event later in the year.

  Or when she’d hold on to those pendants of hers and draw on some hidden well of strength . . . only to let go when she’d see him watching her.

  Each were tiny but potent blows to his heart.

  He didn’t know what to do anymore. Which was why he’d turned to Carter for advice, as well as answers.

  Jake wasn’t stupid. He knew that Carter bought the library because it was Megan’s one special haven.

  Guilt could inspire a man to do crazy things. And it could also be the reason a man made excuses for far less than was advisable in a relationship with the girl of his dreams. Somewhere in the past few weeks, Jake had started feeling he was doing just that. Which was crazy, really. Jake would be the first person on the job site to tell his guys, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. On paper, sure, it looked as though nothing needed fixing between him and Emma. But their past was still broken, under the surface. They were still broken, under the surface.

  He just didn’t know how to fix it.

  Exponentially so because Emma wanted to ignore that aspect of their relationship.

  “Let’s try to play devil’s advocate,” suggested Carter. “So your girlfriend wants to keep pretending you two only met a couple of months ago so you never have to deal with what happened. What’s the big deal? Is that so bad?”

  “Yes.” Hell, yes, it was that bad.

  “Why?”

  Before Jake could answer, Carter followed up that question with one aimed well and aimed low. “Isn’t that the same thing that you’ve been doing when it comes to us?”

  Seriously, what had he been smoking when he’d had the brilliant idea to call up Carter tonight?

  “It’s not the same thing,” argued Jake.

  “Tell me why.”

  “Because.” Shit, were they really going to get into this? “Because isn’t it like the damn mantra of most self-help books that folks need to deal with their past crap before they can move forward?”

  “You know what? I think I read that book.”

  His brother the friggin’ comedian, ladies and gentleman.

  “I repeat,” pushed Carter. “What’s the difference between your relationship with Emma and your relationship with me?”

  “Because.” Dammit, there was no way of saying it without hurting the guy’s feelings. “Because truthfully, up until recently, I never really . . . thought you’d be a permanent fixture in my life, let alone my future.”

  Deafening silence resonated from Carter’s end of the phone line.

  “I’m sorry, man. You know I love you and all that. You’re my big brother. Always will be. I’d give you a spare organ in a heartbeat. But I’m trying to be honest. Part of the reason why I never let you push me to deal with our effed-up past is because I figured you wouldn’t be a permanent part of my future anyhow. Some part of me thought you’d one day give up on the bimonthly calls. Which would’ve made us working out our shit pointless.”

  “Do you still feel that way?” Carter asked quietly.

  “No.” And that was the God’s honest truth. “Now I want us to work our shit out. For better or for worse.”

  “Is that the girlie version of you telling me you see me as a part of your life now? Your future?” His words were teasing, but his tone was anything but.

  “Or I just finally realized you were more stubborn than a mule, so I should give up trying to keep you out,” reasoned Jake, interrupting their Hallmark moment with a far more appropriate dude moment.

  Carter chuckled. “I’ll take it.”

  They basked in that for all of one second before Carter returned them both to the conversation at hand. “So by your logic, the reason why you’re upset that Emma isn’t wanting to deal with the past is because you
. . . ? Fill in the blank here, buddy. Because I sure as hell won’t do it for you.”

  “Because I want a future with her.”

  “Ding, ding, ding. Tell the contestant what he’s won,” bellowed Carter in his best game-show voice. “Jake, you just won yourself a committed relationship.” Carter made comic whistling noises, presumably to give Jake some time to let that sink in.

  Holy shit. The annoying asshat was right. He wanted Emma for the long haul. This wasn’t a fling or a relationship they’d look back on as the one they couldn’t make work. Nope, she was it for him, and he wanted a future with her.

  Which wouldn’t be possible if she didn’t allow them to work out their past.

  “Jake, let me fly out there and confess everything to Emma. I can take the first flight out tomorrow morning.”

  “No. No way, man. You’re not confessing anything to anyone.”

  “But I don’t want my actions, the ones you took the blame for, to be the reason why you and Emma can’t be together.”

  “I agree. So by that logic, a confession from you shouldn’t be the magical fix-all. If the sole reason why we can’t make it work is you, then it clearly wasn’t meant to be.”

  “That’s a stretch, and you know it, Jake. Getting over something like a fire like that isn’t a reasonable expectation, nor is it a fair test to a relationship. And I think you know that.”

  “I’m not using it as some big test of our relationship,” Jake argued truthfully. “Frankly, the reality that it was you who set the fire that night can and should stay buried in the past. Taking the fall for you was a path I chose fourteen years ago. My going to juvie was a past I chose to have be a permanent part of my history. If Emma, or you, or anyone for that matter, can’t come to terms with my past and accept that part of me fully, regardless if it’s wholly factual in the legal chain of events sense, then really, we don’t stand a chance in hell in having a future. It’s who I am. And while our parents may not love or accept who I am, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with should—don’t you think? Don’t I deserve at least that?”

  “Of course you do, man. It’s just . . . it might just be too big an expectation.”