The Harder You Fall

by Gena Showalter

He arched a brow. "You were planning to flirt with other women?"

  "Ha-ha. Seriously. You do it, and I'll probably go nuclear."

  His pupils expanded, black spilling over gold. "The same applies to you and other men."

  Good. That was good. "And...well, I guess that's it. I can't think of anything else." As his heat and scent enveloped her, she could barely think at all.

  "I can." He brushed the tip of his nose against hers. "If you begin to ache for a man...for a kiss, a touch, fingers...anything...you come to me. You tell me. You get it from me. No one else."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE MUSIC BEAT in tune to West's heart: hard, too fast and with an undertone of desperate need. He'd once thought there could be no greater torture than cocaine withdrawals. The chills, the aches, the tremors and the bone-deep physical pain. Days...weeks of it. Wondering if he'd survive, some nights praying he wouldn't. And when every symptom faded, the gut-wrenching cravings for the high he'd once loved.

  But this...worrying about Jessie Kay, hungering for her and yet trying to keep her at a distance, was far worse. And it was killing him.

  He didn't mean to worry, but how could he not wonder if he would lose her the way he'd lost Tessa? She'd be here one day and gone the next.

  At least they were together in the madness. She hungered for him, too.

  But to have her, he'd have to do a lot more than offer long term.

  He'd read her list. See his future in her eyes? Done. Cuddle her just because? Pretty please with a cherry on top of her. Fight for her? With pleasure. To him, there weren't other women in the world.

  And yes, he could fall in love with this girl.

  An addiction? So what. No longer a problem. He would willingly deal with the consequences.

  What he couldn't do? Stop hovering. His past still pulled his strings. He also couldn't offer forever. Not yet. And if he couldn't offer forever, he couldn't "always be there for her."

  For the next five years, he could only offer two months out of every twelve. After that, when the clock zeroed out, the game would change and he could be with anyone he wanted for however long he desired.

  His hand tightened on his glass of water, causing the ice cubes to clink together. He just had to get through the next five years.

  Would she wait for him?

  Could he ask her to?

  "A thousand dollars for your thoughts," Beck said.

  West snapped out of his head and into the present. He was at Black Cherry, a nightclub in the heart of Oklahoma City. He and his friends sat at the most coveted table in the upstairs VIP lounge, where music wasn't as loud and they could actually hear each other speak. Even better, they had an unobstructed view of the dance floor below, where Jessie Kay, Brook Lynn and Harlow danced with abandon.

  "Most people would only pay a penny." And they still wouldn't get their money's worth.

  "Inflation," Beck said with a shrug. "Plus, I'm like the devilishly handsome, filthy rich alpha tycoon in Harlow's favorite romance novel. I can afford it."

  "You're humble, too." Jase drained his soda and frowned at West. "I can't believe I have to say this--again--but I don't like seeing you this way."

  "You mean unmanned?" Obsessed and possessed.

  "So determined to cling to your misery."

  Not miserable. Not anymore. I'm tormented. His gaze sought Jessie Kay. She lifted her arms above her head, her wrists crossing as she gyrated her hips. A highly sexual move, something she would do in bed with him. Sweat beaded on his forehead as blistering heat swept through him.

  "You're still punishing yourself," Jase said. "Why?"

  "Why is the wrong question. You assume I'm like you, that I seek absolution and crave a pardon. I don't. I never have."

  "I assume nothing. And no, why is not the wrong question." Jase leaned forward, anchoring his elbows on the table. "I didn't ask your objective, only your reason."

  A muscle clenched in his jaw. "You know why. We've been over this."

  "You're right. We have. Unfortunately, I've never gotten through to you. What will it take to make you understand I've never blamed you and Beck for staying quiet while I was in prison? It's what I asked for. I've never blamed you for the things that happened to me behind bars. Never blamed you for losing your scholarship to MIT. You were screwed in the head. We all were. And if I don't blame you, why should you blame yourself?"

  West ground his teeth. "I inflicted the most damage to Pax." Tessa's rapist. An entitled prick with better looks than sense. "I picked you up and drove you to the scene. I threw the first punch. I threw the last. You fought him, yes, and you were punished. I deserve to be punished, too." And so, that's exactly what he'd done: punished himself.

  "What about me?" Beck asked. "Do I deserve to be punished? I was there. I hit Pax so many times I broke eleven bones in my hands."

  He shook his head. "Another crime to lay at my door. I should have gone to him alone. I should have--"

  "We loved Tessa," Jase interjected. "We had a right to avenge her."

  Beck, who rarely touched alcohol in front of West, traced the rim of his ginger ale. "Let's get to the heart of the matter, shall we? You want Jessie Kay, and she wants you, but you insist on being together for only two months, and she insists on a try for forever. Yeah. We know. You may not give us all the details, but the women do. You won't let yourself be happy. As Jase said, you actively seek misery."

  West drew in a sharp breath, slowly released it. "How would you feel if your actions led to Harlow's death? How would you feel, Jase, if your actions led to Brook Lynn's? Would you think you deserved a happy life? The life your woman will be forever denied?"

  Both men paled.

  Yeah. That's what he'd thought.

  "I missed the last few months of Tessa's life," Jase said, "but I remember the kindhearted girl she was. She would hate what you've done to yourself, would hate what you're doing. She would tell you to move on, to find and embrace happiness."

  The words were supposed to comfort him, but they failed. In that moment, more than any other, he missed the euphoria that came with a single hit of coke, when he wouldn't care about anything.

  A horrifying image suddenly filled his mind. He was lying on a dirty bathroom floor, bits of vomit dried around his mouth and caked on his stained, wrinkled shirt. Jessie Kay straddled him, frantically trying to restart his savaged heart.

  He physically recoiled, shaking his head. No. He would rather die.

  Jase leaned over and patted his shoulder. "You need to talk to someone about your problems. Doesn't have to be a professional. You can give Jessie Kay a shot. Tell her everything, even my shit. It'll make a difference."

  Yes, but for better...or for worse?

  "When I told Brook Lynn about my past," Jase continued, "everything changed for me.

  "Not for the best, not right away." Brook Lynn had run from him, afraid of him.

  "But look at me now. Look at us. We share an unbreakable bond."

  "Tessa would want you happy," Beck said.

  "It doesn't matter what Tessa would want. She's not here."

  "Are you sure about that?" Jessie Kay slid into the booth beside West and fanned her sweat-dampened cheeks. "If I died, I'd expect my guy to mourn me forever, and if he tried to hook up with someone else, I'd haunt him till he ended up in a crazy house. Then I'd haunt the girl."

  West leaned into her, experiencing instant peace and instant turmoil. Somehow, she'd become the eye of every storm.

  Jase glared at her. "You're not helping."

  "Help shmelp. The truth is the truth," she said and slitted her eyes. "You guys need to take a step back before I start pushing. This is supposed to be a night of fun, remember? And guess what? I consider myself the guardian of West's good time. Deal with it."

  Beck looked ready to slap a hand over her mouth.

  "Be afraid," West told the guys. "Be very afraid."

  "I think I liked it better when you two were always fighting," Beck grumbled
.

  Jase nodded his agreement.

  "Also," she said with a sunny smile, "y'all need to lighten up. You look like the harbingers of doom." She winked at West. "Did you hear that? I used a fancy word."

  His gaze lowered to her chest. "Unfortunately, you don't seem to have the same reaction--I spoke too soon." Her nipples pressed against her dress...and his erection pressed against his zipper.

  As a waitress walked by, Jessie Kay snagged her pen with a gleeful "Thank you!" Grinning, she rolled up one of West's shirtsleeves. "You need help relaxing, and I know just the thing." She began to write on him.

  The tip of the pen glided over his skin. The warmth of her breath wafted against him. The pecans-and-cinnamon scent so familiar yet so unique to her intoxicated him. He closed his eyes to hide the dark, dangerous desire that flooded him, uncontrollable as it warred and conquered more ground...until nothing else remained of him. She'd broken him down to the studs, remade him into sensation rather than flesh.

  I am Desire.

  "What do you think?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.

  He opened his eyes to find her straight white teeth nibbling on her plump bottom lip. Looking away required Herculean effort, but he managed it. As he read what she'd written, something long dead inside him came to vibrant life.

  10:30--slap Jase

  10:31--slap Beck

  10:32--take victory pic w/ JK

  10:33--dance the night away!

  A schedule. A schedule she'd given him.

  She got him. Despite her own hang-ups--or maybe because of them--she understood him in a way even his friends did not, and West...he reeled. He laughed inside, a little manic.

  And then the walls came tumbling down.

  He had to have her. Resisting had been futile.

  He would talk to her. He would explain the reasons for his dating schedule. She would understand. She had to understand. She would agree to the terms he set. She had to agree. She would be his for the next two months...and two months every year for the next five.

  After that, their relationship could be whatever she wanted it to be.

  Jessie Kay leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Check the time."

  He had to kiss her, craved it more than anything, but he glanced at his wristwatch as requested. 10:30. He reached across the table and gave Jase a solid pop on the jaw.

  "Hey! What was that for?" Jase demanded, rubbing the pink spot.

  Jessie Kay laughed and clapped. "Take it like a girl, Jaslyn--FYI girls take it better than boys. You deserved it, and you know it."

  Beck chuckled--until 10:31 rolled around and West popped him on the jaw.

  Fist-pumping the ceiling, Jessie Kay called, "Yeah! That's what I'm talking about!"

  "Thank you." West dug into her pocket and pulled out her phone. He knew the code, had watched her plug it in countless times. 1, 2, 3, 4. He'd tried to talk her into changing it, but of course, she'd refused.

  So simple, no one will ever think to try it, she'd said. But more important, I won't forget it.

  He smashed his cheek against hers, snapped a string of photos while making different faces, and returned the phone to its rightful place.

  "One last item on your schedule, kitten." He clasped her hand, stood and helped her to her feet, unwilling to release her as they headed downstairs.

  He glanced back at her and smiled. Jase had wanted him happy--I'm happy.

  She blew West a kiss, and as his blood quickened, inspiration hit him. He hadn't designed his own video game in quite some time. Instead, he'd designed for others who'd lacked the technical skill. Suddenly a new game began to take shape. One man, two versions of him--good versus evil--one heart up for grabs. The prize? A tall, seductive blonde.

  "What a great day." Jessie Kay rested her head on his shoulder. "I learned my every wish is your command, even if I tell you to betray your closest friends, as long as I put those commands in a schedule."

  "This is true. But kitten? There's a slight problem with your timeline."

  "No way." The ends of her pale hair brushed over his arm, a sensual caress. "I meticulously planned every detail."

  "Another fancy word," he said, squeezing her hand in approval--pausing to watch as her nipples beaded for him. "But you're wrong. You did mess up." He led her past the dance floor, into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, then tugged her in front of him, only to back her into a shadowed corner.

  Her eyes widened as he cupped her cheeks. "Wait. What's happening right now? What are you doing?"

  "To thank you properly, I'll need at least an hour." He lowered his head slowly, slow enough she could stop him with a single word while he prayed she wouldn't. "All you have to do is say yes."

  A second. An endless second.

  "Say yes. I'm here with you," he said. "No one else. You're my date. You're the one I want."

  "Yes," she whispered.

  He fell into her, pressing his mouth into hers, drinking in his second taste of Jessica Kay Dillon. And this time, there was no hint of gentleness. He devoured, two words screaming inside his mind. Take. Now.

  Yes. Yes. She was paradise. Nirvana. Elysium. Every dream. Every wish. Every fantasy he'd ever had. He kissed her with abandon and learned her with determination, every second more than pleasure--every second bliss. He was utterly overcome.

  He took and he took and he took, then he gave--how could he deny this woman anything? He poured into her all the passion she'd stirred within him.

  She breathed his name as if it were a prayer, melting against him, meeting his tongue thrust for wanton thrust. Nerve endings thrummed with new life as electric pulses rode the waves rushing through his veins. Need devolved into endless desperation, a white-hot burn from which he would never recover, would never want to recover, pushing him to the razor's edge of pleasure...and the most exquisite agony.

  He ran her plump bottom lip between his teeth, combed his fingers through her hair to angle her head and take her ever deeper. A sound more animal than human, part war cry, part victory shout--one only she could elicit--rose from deep within him, heralding a change he couldn't stop...didn't want to stop.

  "You're mine, kitten." All mine. If she denied him...

  "Yes, yes. Yours."

  He melted against her, his tongue meeting hers in a new kiss, brutal and savage, his world careening out of control, revolving only around this woman. Will make her scream, gasp and beg.

  Beyond them, the tempo of the music slowed. A love song. A languid melody, seductive and sultry, but West didn't slow the kiss. He couldn't, his need far too great. He devoured his woman with teeth and tongue, taking more, giving more. Demanding everything.

  She gripped his shirt, pulling him as close as she could get him. "West." She whispered his name, a benediction so sweet he knew there was no obstacle he wouldn't destroy just to hear her say it one more time. "Wanted you so long...more...give me more."

  More. Yes. Now. As rainbow-colored lights rained from the strobes above, flashing over them, he kissed her harder, nipped and licked his way to her jawline...to the pulse hammering at the base of her neck. The silk of her skin...the heat she radiated...the perfume that had fused with her every cell...

  He cupped and kneaded her breasts, brushing his thumb over the points of her nipples...the softness of her curves, a delicious contrast to the hardness of his...the way her breath hitched every time his fingers moved...he couldn't get enough, wasn't sure he would ever get enough.

  "West...don't...please, don't stop," she gasped out.

  "Never." A crazed madness had overtaken him. He'd been stripped down to the studs yet again, was nothing but hunger and thirst and reckless need, burning from the inside out. "I want my hands all over you--and before we leave this club, I want them in your panties."

  "Anyone could see," she whispered.

  It wasn't dread he heard in her tone but scandalized excitement. "It's dark, and you're the only one I see." He nudged the neckline of her dress with his chin, baring h
er breasts, taking her nipple in his mouth and sucking. "Are you wet for me, kitten?"

  "Soaked," she said on a moan.

  He continued to suck, and he wasn't gentle about it. When she quivered, when she began to gasp incoherently, he gripped her under her thighs and lifted her off her feet, pinning her to the wall with his weight. She wound her long legs around him, clinging to him, creating an irresistible cradle. Irresistible...so why even try to restrain himself?

  He grunted as her nails sank into his back; she might have even sliced through his shirt, but he loved it. How easy it would be to bunch her dress at her waist, rip through her panties, tear open his fly and sink inside paradise...nirvana...elysium. Not just touch, but own.

  "I have to taste you. Let me."

  "West--"

  He ground his shaft into the sweetest part of her, the action as instinctual and as necessary as breathing. "Please." He'd beg. For her, only ever her, he'd beg.

  He'd take her here. An appetizer. He'd take her in the limo and then again at home. The meal. He'd have her on the bed in the dark hours of the night...he'd have her on the floor in the bright light of the morning. He'd have her in the shower, on the kitchen counter.

  "You've ruined me for everyone else. I should punish you for it, but I only want to pleasure you. I'll make you feel--" Something--someone--bumped into his side, and he nearly lost his footing. West snarled with the kind of white-hot rage he had not experienced since his days with Tessa.

  "Sorry, man. Sorry," a slurred, unfamiliar voice announced. A guy tripped past them, muttering about needing a bathroom before he puked all over his shoes.

  West would not take this precious woman next to a puddle of vomit.

  His heart raced toward an invisible finish line as he set Jessie Kay's feet on the floor and stepped away from her. He was trembling, panting. She had somehow burrowed under his skin and become an itch, and from this moment on, he knew there was no point during any given day that he wouldn't be aware of her, or of his desire for her. Her taste had changed the chemical makeup of his brain. He was no longer West; he was Jessie Kay's man.

  Her tremors matched his own as she smoothed her tangled hair into place. She could do nothing about the red, swollen lips just begging for another kiss.

  "Well." She cleared her throat. "That was certainly...interesting."

  He shoved his hands in his pockets before he reached for her again. "Interesting isn't the word I'd use." Spectacular. Sublime. Necessary. "Do you want to do it again?"