Eyes Turned Skyward

by Rebecca Yarros

  We were so close to perfect, and one heartbeat away from tragedy. Sixty-six days. How was I going to spend them? “I love him so stupid much.”

  Morgan jumped like we were fourteen again. “Eek! Now jump that!”

  My cheeks heated, and my pulse leaped, either from embarrassment or thinking of getting my hands on Jagger. Probably both. “You really think that’s the best idea?”

  “What did Dr. Larondy say?”

  “That as long as I could walk up a flight of stairs without getting winded, I’m okay for sex.”

  “And did you not walk up our stairs to get changed just a few minutes ago?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Morgan, go find someone and walk up your own stairs.”

  She giggled, swatted my backside, and grabbed her handbag from the counter. “Don’t wait up, dear!” The door opened, and I reached for the popcorn. “Ooh, imagine that!”

  “What?” I answered, popping four salty, buttery, warm M&M’s in my mouth. I closed my eyes and moaned as the shells cracked and the melty chocolate escaped. So good.

  “Holy shit, that’s hot. Would you like me to leave you and your popcorn alone?”

  My eyes snapped open at Jagger’s voice, and I swallowed, then ran my tongue across my teeth to make sure I wasn’t about to talk with a chocolate-coated smile. “Hey,” I said softly, not sure what else to say, since my breath left me at the sight of him.

  He was dressed in full uniform, his boots heavy as he walked across the tile floor toward me with a vase full of pink peonies. “Happy Valentine’s Day? I didn’t even realize what day it was until I was in the middle of that makeup test.” He put the vase and his cover on the counter, then ran his hands across the top of his hair. It was long, almost too long, and I loved it. He left a foot or so between us, a spark flickering in his eyes that made me feel like we stood at the edge of something big, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what it was. “I’m so sorry I left like that, that I didn’t call.” His voice was low, regretful, and sincere.

  “There were no phones in Chicago?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his beautiful mouth. “Actually, there were not. I kind of had it confiscated and didn’t get it back until late last night. By then I just wanted to see you and explain in person, but I had class all day, and a test to make up.”

  I took a deep breath. “I think we both have things we need to explain.” I moved toward him until our toes brushed and I had to crane my neck up to see him. With my bare feet and his combat boots, our height difference was even more exaggerated.

  He swallowed and nodded. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Things I haven’t told anyone, things I don’t have control over. And I want to tell you, but…” He flicked his tongue across his teeth, his absolute tell. Too bad that tongue stud wasn’t in.

  “But you’re not ready for me to know?” I understood all too well.

  “I don’t want you to look at me differently and suddenly see someone else…someone you couldn’t ever want.” I could say the same exact thing. “There are ugly parts of me, Paisley. Sins I’m still paying for.”

  “Is that where you were this week? Paying for those sins?”

  Two heartbeats passed while his jaw ticked. “Yes, in a way.”

  “Did you cheat on me?” I asked softly, using intonation to make sure he knew I didn’t think it was possible. “Did you sleep with someone else? Touch someone else?”

  “Fuck, no. How could you even…” He shook his head. “That’s not a possibility. You’re the only woman I want.” My smile must have tipped him off, because he rolled his eyes. “You’re killing me, Paisley.”

  “We agreed to default to trust, so that’s what I’m doing.”

  “You have every right to know what’s going on—”

  “Let’s not talk about it tonight,” I offered.

  His forehead puckered. “Don’t girls always want to talk?”

  I shook my head, my hair tickling my bare skin. “I missed you something fierce, Jagger. I just want to be where you are tonight. We can sort out everything else later.” I don’t want to tell you my secret, either. No, I wanted tonight, and I was going to take it.

  His eyes softened, relief evident as I stayed my own execution. I rose on my tiptoes and cupped his face in my hands, running my thumbs across the sharp stubble that had grown since his morning shave. “You don’t have to worry. Whatever it is, it’s not going to stop me from wanting you…from loving you.”

  His lips parted, and his eyes turned hungry. “Say it again.”

  “You don’t have to worry.” I smiled.

  “Not that part.” I glimpsed the vulnerability he hid so well. He was so adamant against attaching to anyone, to any kind of relationship, so he didn’t love anyone, but it also kept anyone from loving him.

  He was starved for it.

  Guilt slammed into me. I’d known I loved him for months and couldn’t say it, even when he did. Couldn’t make that promise that I’d be here for him to love. I’d accidentally withheld the one thing he needed desperately.

  “Paisley?”

  I grazed my thumbs across his lips and searched his eyes. “I love you, Jagger Bateman.” My lips met his in the softest kiss we’d ever shared. We clung there for a moment, and I reveled in the love unfurling through my chest, radiating through me.

  He slowly brought his hands to my waist but didn’t deepen the kiss. “Say it again,” he begged.

  “I love you,” I whispered and kissed him again. “I love you.” I brought my lips to his cheeks, his chin, the skin of his throat, punctuating each kiss with an “I love you” until his hands tightened on me, his grip turning possessive.

  He brought his mouth down to mine, this time stroking his tongue inside with a tenderness he’d never shown before, drawing a moan from my throat. “I need you.” His voice snapped any tether in my mind.

  “Yes,” I answered as hunger awoke in my belly. Three words, and I was ready to strip in my kitchen.

  His hands skimmed down my back to my rear, and he lifted me easily. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and kissed him with every ounce of love I could pour into him. He walked us up the stairs, pausing just outside my bedroom to lean me against the wall. He didn’t pounce like I’d come to expect; instead, he ran his fingers down my cheek, looked into my eyes like he was making love to my soul, and I liquefied. “I love you, Paisley. I love you so much that I don’t understand how I could have taken a single breath before I found you. I came to life when you did on that beach. I don’t want to live another day that I can’t tell you that.”

  I arched up, bringing my mouth to his. “You can tell me that for as long as I live,” I promised him, then threaded my hands into his hair and kissed him like this would be the only chance I had. The wall was great leverage as I rocked into him, getting as close as I could, but it wasn’t enough. I needed his skin. My fingers made short work of unzipping his uniform top, pulling it from between our bodies. He balanced me against the wall to free his arms from the top. My fingernails grazed his skin as I lifted his tan undershirt, revealing the lines of corded muscle and deliciously inked skin I was dying to taste. My mouth opened on its own accord and fastened to the skin above his heart, sucking a small bruise into the surface, like I needed my own mark to compete with the other swirls of ink.

  He hissed and leaned into me, forcing my head up, and tugged his shirt over his head. Oh. My. God. His dog tags rested against his skin, bare from neck to waist. A uniform had never turned me on, but half a uniform on Jagger? I was going to spontaneously combust. I tested the resistance of his chain and reeled him in for another kiss, savoring the way his grip tightened on my hips. “Bed,” I whispered as I pulled away.

  He groaned and fumbled with my door handle for a second before he got it open. He flipped on the light, then carried me to bed. He lowered me until I rested on the soft white comforter in the center of the four-poster bed. The white canopy draped across the
top contrasted with Jagger’s tan skin as I looked up at him, trying to swallow my heart, which had jumped into my throat. “You’re beautiful.”

  His smile echoed mine, bringing out his dimple. “You’re biased.”

  My hands dipped along the planes and angles of his back, memorizing every line. He sat on the bed next to me and made quick work of removing his boots, then slid his weight onto me and set his lips to my neck. My body came to life, arching toward him as I moaned. “I like this spot,” he whispered, and proceeded to lick and suck every inch of my neck. A wave of heat ran through me, leaving goose bumps in its wake.

  My hips rolled into his, and he kissed me slowly, winding his fingers through my hair and holding me to him like I was something precious. Then he kissed a path down to my chest, grazing his teeth lightly over my breasts. The hard points of my nipples stood out through my tank top, and he kissed each in turn. “Skin,” I begged.

  His hands followed the lines of my body until he reached my waist. He looked into my eyes and waited for me to nod, and then lifted fabric over my head when I raised my arms eagerly. His dog tags tickled the hollow of my throat as he lowered himself over me, finally skin to skin. Fire licked at me where we were connected, only to rage even hotter when he raised himself and took off his necklace.

  “My turn,” I said, and pushed him to his back.

  He grasped my hips as I covered him, and he kissed me so thoroughly that my body hummed. It didn’t matter if I was over or under him, he could still control every shiver of my skin. I traced a path down his neck with my fingers, hovering over the tattooed flames that licked from his back over his shoulder and transformed into words. “This one?” I needed another piece of him.

  “‘What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.’” He paused for the barest of moments. “I got it when I felt…settled, like I’d made it through leaving…”

  I didn’t push. Instead I outlined the words with my tongue. “Bukowski?” I asked against his skin.

  He sucked in when I kissed the sensitive spot where his collarbone met his neck. “It’s so sexy when you talk librarian to me.”

  I giggled, but all thoughts of laughter fled as I stroked my hands down his torso, savoring each carved line of his stomach. I held his gaze and lowered my head, kissing the delectable path that led into his pants. I relished every indrawn breath, the tensing of the muscles beneath my tongue. “Paisley.” My name sounded so good when he said it like that. I flicked open the buttons on his pants, and he growled, flipping me to my back. “You’re killing me.”

  “That’s the idea.” I lifted my chest so that my breasts rubbed against his skin, and he consumed my mouth until I couldn’t think, only feel the slide of his tongue, the sweet pressure of his thigh between mine.

  “I’m trying to go slow. Cooperate.” He turned his attention to my breasts, using his tongue and lips until I gasped his name. Each pull sent shots of lava through my veins, pulsing and gathering between my thighs, and all I wanted was to ease the ache. His hands glided down my sides until his thumbs hooked into my pajama pants. He kissed my stomach, ran his tongue over my belly button, and then kissed his way to my waistband.

  I lifted my head to see why he paused, to see the question in his eyes. “Yes,” I whispered. My elbows supported my weight, and I lifted my hips, allowing him to slide my pants the rest of the way off. He didn’t look away from me but held my eyes as he dragged my panties down my thighs. There was nothing but love, almost reverence in his eyes. I lifted my legs out one at a time, placing them on either side of him.

  His gaze raked over me, turning from sweet to hungry. “Fucking perfect, every inch of you.” His praise warmed me to the tips of my toes.

  I drew my feet up along his pants and pushed them down. “Off.”

  “Bossy.” He smiled and stripped them off, leaving his boxer briefs all that separated us. Then he slid between my open thighs and stroked the bare skin of my torso with his. I groaned at the contact and looped my ankle over his hip as he kissed me, a new urgency fueling the speed and pressure. He was losing some of that control, but I wanted him to lose it all. He’d been soft and slow since the ATV, and I wanted that Jagger again.

  I skimmed my nails over his skin until I gripped his butt through his briefs. “Paisley,” he whispered, and I arched, rubbing his erection against me. It relieved some of the ache, only to leave me throbbing when he pulled away. His self-restraint was incredible, but I was done with it. As he sat on his knees, I followed him, kissing the taut skin of his stomach. “I’m trying to go slow, and you’re making that impossible.”

  “Good,” I mumbled into the waistband of his boxer briefs. His breathing sped up as my hands moved to his thighs and gripped the bands of muscle there. “You feel incredible.” His fingers tangled in my hair and gripped when I grazed my thumb over the outline of his erection.

  He pushed me onto the bed, thrusting against me in one long, delicious slide. “Stop that, or I’m going to snap, Little Bird.”

  I reached between us and squeezed his length. “Snap already, because I’m on fire for you.”

  He growled into my neck, and his kisses changed from languorous to abandoned. Yes. This was what I wanted. I needed him reckless, wild, uninhibited with me. No more caution or restraint. He reared back on his hands and looked at me with raw need. I whimpered and lifted my hips, the ache between my thighs becoming unbearable.

  “I tried to go slow, to do this right,” he warned. Then he attacked, sliding his fingers into my folds and holding me open as his tongue licked over my clit.

  A cry ripped free from my throat as he stroked over me again, flicking and caressing, then sucking at me. Oh, God. I was going to die from the havoc that tongue was wreaking. This was…was…there were no words. Desperate for contact, I wound one hand through his hair and the other tangled in the sheet above my head, like it could hold me to the earth while he spiraled me out of control. He blew on me, and my hips bucked. “Jagger!”

  “What?” He dragged his tongue over me slowly. “More?”

  “Yes!”

  “You taste amazing,” he said against my clit, and the vibrations sent another surge of pleasure through me. My hips rode his mouth as he caressed me, unable to control my own movements. My breaths came in gasps. “What do you want?”

  “More,” I whimpered.

  “How?” He reared up over me and turned my face to his, looking in my eyes. I had the feeling he was always going to challenge me here, and I was more than ready for it.

  “I want your hands on me.”

  He slipped a finger inside me and stroked. “Like that?”

  “Yes. More!” He looked almost feral as he slid down my body, locking my eyes as he slipped in another finger and thrust. I cried out and then went speechless when he kept time with his tongue against those nerves. Pressure built low within me, so tight I was afraid I’d break apart.

  I called his name over and over, unable to think of any other word. Then he pressed up with his fingers, sucked my clit into his mouth at the same time, and I exploded around him. Lights flashed behind my eyes as I clenched around him again and again, until I fell limp.

  He kissed my throat and then my lips, every muscle locked and rigid. “Watching you do that is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. You’re extraordinary, Paisley.” His breathing was ragged, his hands firm, but I felt a slight tremor race through him as he stroked my curves, kick-starting another fire in me.

  I looked into his eyes so there could be no misunderstanding. “I want you, now.”

  “You’re sure?” Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breath hit my lips in pants.

  “Now.”

  He handed me a condom, and I rolled it over him, squeezing as he hissed in pleasure. He took both of my hands in his and raised them above my head as he slid his erection between my sensitive folds. “You’re so damn wet.” He groaned.

  I brought my knees up to cradle his body and waited for him to press inside. In
stead, he kissed me, rubbing his tongue with mine in the same rhythm he slid against me below. I groaned into his mouth and rocked back into him. “That feels amazing,” I told him as he did it again. “But you—”

  “Trust, Paisley, remember?” He stroked his hands down my arms until he palmed my breasts, then tweaked my nipples, rolling them expertly as I moaned. The ache between my thighs began to pulse again, then throb as he skimmed his fingers over me. He found a rhythm against my clit, stroking, rubbing, and pressing, until I was coiled tighter than a spring.

  “Jagger!” I cried out, losing every semblance of control.

  “Paisley.” His voice shook.

  “Please,” I begged.

  He kept as close to me as possible, resting his forehead on mine and swallowing my gasp as he finally nudged the head of his erection inside me. “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I love you,” I promised. He slipped another inch inside me, and I clenched down on him, burning slightly where he already stretched me.

  With a strangled groan, he snapped, sliding into me to the hilt. I gasped at the exquisite pressure of having him inside me, filling every part of me and pushing for more. “God! You’re so tight. You fit like you were made for me,” he said against my mouth, his breathing erratic as he gave me a much-needed minute to adjust.

  “I was.” My lips trembled under his, needing the pressure to ease. I rolled my hips and moaned at the friction.

  “Don’t. Just let me hold this…” His eyes were squeezed tight, fighting to stay still, determined to go slowly with me.

  I kissed him, sliding my tongue into his open mouth and stroking the roof of his mouth at the same time I thrust my hips. “Jagger,” I pleaded, my nails sinking into his skin.

  He pulled out, almost to the tip, and then slammed home. Pleasure ripped through me, so sweet I tasted it. “Like that?”

  “Yes!”

  He did it again, and again, setting a hard, deep rhythm that drove me higher and higher in the spiral. I couldn’t remain passive, and dug my heels into the bed, arching into him, meeting him thrust for thrust. He didn’t increase the pace, even when I begged him to, just pushed harder, deeper. Our breathing matched the intense pace, and we gave up trying to kiss, simply tasting the passion that lingered between our open mouths.