In Self Defense

by Loralynne Summers

  “If you ever get your overgrown hulk out of the way, I can,” she teased. He fought every urge in his body as she walked past him. Her vanilla-and-honey smell taunted him, reminding him he still hadn’t learned how she tasted.

  She’d swapped her heels for flats, but still wore the light blue pencil skirt she’d come home in. He cleared his throat and dragged his eyes away from her ass.

  “Are you thirsty? I bought some of that sparkling red Rosa-whatever-it-is you like.”

  She spun around, head tilted to the side, a wary expression on her face. “Okay, that one I know I didn’t tell you.”

  “Sarah, most weeks you forget to put your garbage out and I do it for you after you leave for work. I’ve seen the bottle in your recycling more than once.”

  “Oh,” she said, and dropped her face, but not before he saw her blush. “Sure, I’d love some, thanks.” She slowly wandered into the living room as he popped the cork and poured her a glass. “Jason, this place is spotless. I’m impressed. I had no idea you could clean this well.”

  He chuckled as he joined her. “Yeah, well, I had some good incentive.” She gave him a questioning look. “You,” he said, handing her the glass.

  “You went out and bought a real wine glass for me?” He loved how quickly her mind jumped topics. Conversations with her never got boring.

  “What kind of place would serve you homemade chicken parm with pasta and expect you to drink wine out of a beer mug?” Her face lit up. If nothing else, this night would be worth it just for the flash of happiness radiating from her eyes.

  “We’re having chicken parm? Homemade?”

  “Hey, your mom taught me more than manners, you know. She taught me how to make a mean red sauce, too.” He took a long drink from his beer. His own mother died in a car accident when he was young. Sarah’s mom practically raised him for a couple of years while his father tried to drown his sorrows in the bottom of a whiskey bottle.

  “Jason, listen. We need to talk, and we might as well get it out now instead of dragging the awkwardness on all night.” This was one of the reasons he loved her—she didn’t bullshit around.

  “Let me go turn the stove off.” Something told him that it would be a while before they returned to the kitchen, and he had no interest in burning his house down. He brought the bottle of wine back to the living room with him. She put up a good show, but he could tell she was nervous.

  “Thanks,” she said, holding her empty glass out for a refill. He sat at the end of the couch, mostly to put her at ease. She paced the room, shooting glances at him every minute or so, worrying her lower lip. “Right. So, okay, here’s the thing.” She took a deep breath and turned to face him, leaning against the entertainment center. “First, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for running out on you at the gym, and for ignoring you all week. It wasn’t fair for me to just shut you out when you were being honest with me. For the past several months, everything you’ve done has been for me, and I wasn’t thinking about you. I was only thinking about myself.” She rolled her glass between her fingers and downed the remains before meeting his eyes. “I’m scared,” she said.

  To keep from interrupting her, he took another mouthful of beer.

  After he remained silent, she nodded her head and continued. “I’m scared to let anybody in, to let anybody get close. I’m scared I’m going to hurt you. I’m scared you’re going to hurt me.” He must have made a face, because she quickly amended her last statement. “Not physically, but emotionally. I’m scared it might be too soon for me to be in a relationship.” Her head dropped, the thick mass of dark curls falling over one shoulder, hiding part of her face. “I’m scared I can’t judge anyone properly anymore. I worry I’m going to measure every guy I meet against this impossible standard I now have, based on everything I love about you. I worry I’m so in love with you because I’ve been too afraid to start dating again and even give any other guy a chance.” Her hands trembled, while his heart pounded. He focused on one the thing she’d said that truly mattered to him—she was in love with him. “I’m afraid something will go wrong and I’ll lose the one person in my life I can’t live without.”

  His heart stopped and dropped to his stomach. It would kill him, but if she wanted his friendship and nothing more, that’s what he’d give her. He didn’t want to live his life without her either.

  “But you know what terrifies me the more than any of that?” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as if she was scared to give life to the words.

  Afraid to talk—he was better with his hands than with words, school had proven that—he simply asked, “What?”

  She looked up at him through her lashes, as though she wanted to see his reaction but was still nervous. “I’m afraid I’ll hate myself for not taking the chance to find out if I was afraid of nothing.”

  Yup. It was definitely going to be a while before they returned to the kitchen.

  Jason rose from the couch and slowly made his way to her. His fingers brushed hers as he took the glass and placed it on the table. Every move he made was deliberate and slow, telegraphing his intentions, giving her every chance to stop him.

  His hands cupped her neck, tilting her head up, allowing him to look into her bottomless blue eyes. Mouth parted slightly, he inched his face closer to hers. Her mouth fell open in anticipation as he drew near.

  “Tell me,” he said, his voice low and husky, filled with need. “Tell me you want this. Want me. Tell me I’m not rushing you into this before you’re ready.” His heart jack-hammered in his chest. Even after her confession, he still worried, still needed to know for sure. He would always put her first, above everything, even at this moment. If she wasn’t completely comfortable, he would stop. He knew how much it cost her to say everything she’d just told him, how hard it had been to admit she was scared.

  She threaded her arms up around his, her hands on the sides of his head. “Yes, Jason. Yes. Please…”

  That worked for him.

  His mouth consumed hers. She clung to him, as if afraid he would stop. If he’d been able to, he’d have roared in triumph. Instead, his tongue dueled with hers, invading and retreating, exploring every part of her mouth and inviting her to do the same. Her lips were sweet, exotic, and enticing, tasting like the wine. One of his hands slid around to cradle the back of her head, his fingers twisting through her hair. The fingers of his other hand trailed over her breast, teasing her nipple through her clothing. She moaned and her lithe body melted in his hands, her head falling back as she gasped for air. He kissed a line down her jaw and ran his tongue along the side of her neck.

  A sound of pure pleasure came from her, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. It was music to his ears. He would enjoy discovering what other sounds she’d make for him. Her nipple pebbled under the fabric beneath his hand, and he wanted desperately to see all of her. But not in his living room.

  At least, not for their first time.

  He shifted his body, scooping her up into his arms effortlessly. For all her muscle and strength, she weighed a good buck-fifty less than him.

  When he headed upstairs, she giggled.

  “Yes?” he said, lifting an eyebrow. She claimed to hate it, but a while back, he’d caught the slight flare of her nostrils when he did it. She liked it much more than she’d admit. Now he did it as often as possible when he was with her.

  “A bit clichéd, isn’t it? You carrying me off to bed like this?”

  He grinned. “Sorry, baby, but your legs just wouldn’t move fast enough for me right now. Mine are longer.”

  “Jason?” He lifted his brow again. “I love it when you call me baby.”

  He smiled as he set her down on the bed. Kneeling beside her, he pulled his tank off before lying down. She eyed him appreciatively.

  “You should definitely walk around shirtless as much as possible, you know.” She raked her nails down his chest to emphasize her point. He hissed.

  “Sarah, baby, unless you want me t
o rip that shirt off you, don’t do that again.”

  “Is that a threat?” she teased, licking a lazy circle around his nipple.

  He groaned. “No, it’s a promise.”

  “Let’s just see about that.” She straddled him, her skirt bunching up at the top of her thighs, the heat of her sex taunting him through his jeans. Both hands settled at the top of his chest, and he clenched his jaw.

  “Sarah…” he warned. He really didn’t want to ruin her shirt, but she had no idea what kind of fire she was playing with. He thrived on the rough stuff, but didn’t dare try it with her right now, not after what she’d been through. She smirked, and slowly drew her hands down, making sure to drag a nail directly over each nipple. His shoulders pressed into the mattress, and he rolled his head back, trying to contain the tempest raging inside of him.

  “Mmm, I think you like that. Should I do it again? Perhaps I should do it here?” He gasped when she raked his waistline. His hips bucked and he rolled, putting her on her back, his hands grabbing the sides of her shirt at the neck.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he growled, and pulled. Buttons flew off and the shirt fell open, exposing her flat, toned stomach and perfect breasts encased in a lacy white bra. For a moment, all he could do was stare. Then his mouth was on her breast, biting her nipple through the fabric. She arched up into him, grasping his arms. He slid his hands under her hips, finding the zipper on her skirt and tugging it down.

  Removing her skirt revealed panties that matched the bra. He ran his fingers along the edges, admiring the contrast against her olive skin before grabbing the material and ripping it from her. He tugged her into a sitting position to remove her shirt and bra, then slowly eased her back down so he could admire her.

  “What?” she asked, apparently growing uncomfortable under his heated scrutiny.

  “You are so absolutely perfect. So beautiful.”

  She blushed, and her gaze dropped to his pants. “Yeah, well, I’m naked and you’re not,” she countered, her embarrassment gone as quickly as it appeared. “So get a move on there, Wainwright. Lose the jeans.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, a lopsided grin on his face as he reached for his waist.

  “No, wait. Stop.” He froze, hands on his half-unbuckled belt. His confusion must have been apparent, because she rose up, kneeling in front of him. Her breasts pressed into his chest while she lightly ran her fingers down his stomach. “Allow me. It’s only fair, after all. You undressed me, so I get to undress you.” Their mouths met, and he wrapped his arms around her bare back. With agonizing slowness, she unzipped his jeans, dragging the backs of her fingers along his cock. Sliding her hands under the waistband of his boxers, she pushed everything down to his knees and nudged him onto his back.

  After tossing his clothes on the floor with hers, she turned, looking at him as he’d looked at her. “Jesus,” she whispered, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him. She swallowed. “Yeah, um, you’re gonna have to go reallllly slow. Damn. I just…wow.” She laughed. “Sorry. That’s quite impressive.”

  “It’s okay, baby. C’mere.” He rolled onto his side and motioned her to join him. She settled facing him, head propped on her hand. He trailed his fingers lightly up her side before cupping her breast and taking another kiss. Leaning in, he used his weight to move her onto her back and began kissing his way down her neck. A small, breathy pant escaped her when he made it to her breasts, sucking at each until her nipples were hard, stiff points. He left a trail of soft, worshipful kisses down her stomach, stopping when he reached the neatly trimmed patch of curls between her legs. The smell of her desire blotted out any thought save one—she was his for the having, willingly, body and soul.

  Looking up, he watched her as he positioned himself between her legs. He ran his fingers along the edges of her opening, teasing her, sliding easily through the evidence of her arousal. A barely audible whimper reached his ears, and then she gasped as he thrust his tongue into her and slowly dragged it up through her folds to circle her clit.

  He was beyond pleased to discover she tasted even better than she smelled.

  “Jason!” she cried, and he worked his fingers inside her, tongue flicking and circling her sensitive nub as fast as he could. “Fffffff—oh fuck.” Her lower back lifted from the bed as she wrapped her legs around his shoulders, pushing herself into him as she came. He turned his head and kissed the inside of her thigh, his fingers petting her through the orgasm. “Jesus.” Her skin was flushed, and he felt her pulse racing below his lips. He grinned. Her arms were over her head, hands gripping the pillow so hard her knuckles were white. “Sorry, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she asked, lowering her hips and unwinding her legs. “It’s just that I—oh.” She paused when he slid a third finger inside her. “I was kinda unprepared for that to hit, especially so fast. You’re the first man in years to…” Her chin pointed to the ceiling as she trailed off, distracted by what his fingers were doing. “I kinda forgot how that felt.” She panted, writhing against his hand.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll help you remember every day.” He locked his mouth over hers and continued to work his fingers inside her. She was so damned petite, and he wouldn’t change that for the world, but it would take time for her body to grow accustomed to his size. Until then, she’d need more foreplay. Not that he was complaining.

  She tried to pull him on top of her and push his hand away. “Wait, Sarah. Wait,” he said between kisses. He slid from the bed and crossed to his dresser, opening the top drawer and retrieving the condom box. “What the—fuck! Fucking figures.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  He turned to her. His goddess, the woman who’d tormented his waking and sleeping world for the past several months, was naked and ready on his bed.

  “Fucking box is empty,” he cursed, slamming the drawer shut. He sat heavily on the side of the bed, head in his hands.

  “Oh.” They sat in silence for a minute before the mattress shifted behind him and her arms snaked around him. “Jason?” She kissed the tip of his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, baby.” He took one of her hands in his and raised it, kissing its back.

  “Jason, answer me a question.”

  “What, baby?”

  “Do you swear to me that you’ve always used condoms, and have been tested recently?”

  His head swung around. Is she really suggesting…? He cleared his throat. “Always. And six months ago.” His heart raced.

  “Always? Every single time?”

  “Yes,” he answered immediately. He would never lie to her, not for any reason. Not even for this.

  She nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I’ve only had a few partners, you know that. We always used condoms. I was tested after every break-up, and then for every disease under the sun when I was in the hospital. And I’m on the pill.” He shifted, turning to face her as she leaned in. She put her mouth up to his ear. “So you better finish what you started, Wainwright.”

  ****

  Sarah had no idea where the boldness came from. Maybe it was because he made her feel beautiful, alive, and cherished. But this was Jason. She felt safe with him. She wanted to know what it felt like, truly felt like, to have him inside her. She wanted to be his in every sense of the word.

  “Jason, it has always been you. You were the one putting me back together after every asshole I dated, even back in high school. You were the one I looked to for help and advice, especially after my parents moved. Hell, you were my first kiss, remember?”

  He nodded his head.

  “So be the first for this. Take what has always been yours.”

  He grabbed her head and kissed her passionately. When they came up for air, she slid back onto the pillows, giving him her best “come hither” look. He crawled across the bed after her, positioning himself on top of her.

  “You’re sure?” he asked.

  “Ask me that question one more
time tonight about anything, and I swear to God I’m gonna kidney punch you.” She reached one arm between them and took hold of his enormous cock. She still wasn’t entirely convinced he was going to fit, but she sure as hell wanted to find out. He groaned, rocking his hips in time with her strokes and letting her guide him inside her.

  “Fuck,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. His arms trembled. “Jesus, Sarah, you’re so fucking tight.” She rocked her hips up, slowly taking more in, and then let him slide back out as she lowered her hips. His jaw clenched.

  “Jason, look at me.” She rocked back up a little. “Just go slow.” She wanted to close her eyes, throw her head back, and revel in the feeling of being so completely filled, so possessed by Jason. But he was so worried about hurting her that he would likely misunderstand her reaction. She placed her hands on his arms and hooked her legs around the back of his thighs. Her breath caught at the same time as he froze. She felt the tickle of his hair and the heat of his sac where it rested against her. He was all the way in. Gently, he rocked his hips and she moaned.

  “I’m okay,” she panted. “Go ahead.” She couldn’t stop herself, and threw her head back as she rocked her hips to match him. “Oh my God, you feel amazing. Don’t stop.” Slowly, their speed increased as her body adjusted to him, and the tension left his face. His lips trailed hot kisses along her neck and jaw, and she brought her mouth up to his. Heat began growing in her core, spiraling through her and catching her by surprise. “Oh!” she gasped. Her fingers dug into his arms. “Jason!” she cried out, a string of incoherent gasps and words following his name as a second orgasm tore through her for the first time ever. His climax followed quickly on the heels of hers.

  He buried his face in her neck, calling out her name as his body spasmed. She felt every twitch of him inside her, felt the hot burst of his seed filling her as came.

  His mouth was on hers, kissing her between breaths.

  “Mine,” he panted. “My Sarah.”

  “Yours,” she agreed.