Chapter Six
Bryce woke to a soft weight against his chest, the scent of cinnamon wafting up to his nose. He’d slept lightly—although his alarm system was excellent, he’d never protected something so precious before. His weapon was at the ready, resting in the niche in the headboard hidden beneath the slats. His other weapon was hard and aching, cradled between a pair of warm thighs. Jenna had turned into his arms maybe five minutes after she’d dropped into an exhausted sleep.
It had taken some time—she’d held herself rigid on the very edge of his big bed, as far from him as she could manage. He’d noted the underwear, too, under a ridiculously pink and orange T-shirt and matching bottoms. His hands had itched to strip the offending articles from her but he recognized he’d already pushed her with his actions in the bathroom. The sight of her stretched out in his tub, perfectly sized breasts bobbing, the nipples soft with the heat, the long line of her throat as she lay with her head tipped back—he’d wanted to fall on her like an animal. And he had barely glimpsed the folds of her sex beneath the water.
Instead, he calmed his lust and showed her his caring side, not that she welcomed it. But he liked it and was determined to continue. The things he had missed with her during their sex-focused interaction—shit. He remembered how well she’d fit in with his crew, quiet and respectful like any new kid on the block, but funny and cute when it counted. His guy friends liked her and thought she was hot. But more importantly, their women liked Jenna, and that was probably the truest test. Men tended to think with their little heads.
Jenna was beautiful and he loved her voluptuous body, but he found himself appreciating her inner strength, and smiled when he thought about her throwing attitude. It made him hard, and he figured he could handle all facets of her personality—the sweet, the loving, the cute, the funny, the bitchy and the determined—so long as he won where it counted. Particularly in keeping her safe.
He knew what she liked for breakfast and how she took her coffee, knew her taste in lingerie and how loyal she was to her friends. She’d even been loyal to him, wanting to protect him despite how he’d treated her. He was aware she liked animals, particularly young ones, and wondered if that feeling extended to children. He understood that she held some strong views on the environment. As he catalogued all the things he knew about her, separate from the time they spent in his or her bed, Jenna’s body stiffened and began to ease away from him, her breath no longer gently huffing against his upper arm.
Bryce debated faking sleep and allowing her to extricate herself, but decided to push his luck, and her. He rolled, pinning her beneath his weight and stared down into her wide eyes.
“Morning, sweetheart.”
Her whole body tensed again and for a moment he prepared for her to try to buck him off. As if. But she took a shuddering breath. “Get off me, Bryce.”
“Later,” he murmured and leaned to take her mouth. She resisted, keeping her lips sealed against his questing tongue but he persisted, and at last she surrendered, opening to him.
His cock pulsed against her mound, her heat evident even through layers of clothing, and he slid a hand under her tee, lifting some of his weight from her as he did so. He cursed in his head as he encountered her bra—this was why he kept her naked in his bed. And the damn thing must fasten at the back. As he manoeuvred to pull a cup down, Jenna tore her mouth free and narrowed her eyes.
“Stop. Get off me.”
Bryce gauged her intent. She’d regrouped. So he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead and rolled away without comment to get up and saunter into the bathroom, not bothering to conceal his enormous erection. The silence behind him spoke volumes. When he came out, the bed was empty and he could hear things clattering in the kitchen. After checking in with Darren and getting the word from the new man on his street, Bryce decided it was okay to take a quick shower. He called out his intent to Jenna, warning her not to open any of the blinds or go near the doors.
“Fine.” The word sounded like she’d spat it between clenched teeth, and Bryce smiled. He didn’t kid himself. Jenna was going to fight this to the finish but he intended to finish first.
The smell of frying bacon greeted him when he opened the bathroom door. Beneath the mouthwatering aroma was the tang of coffee so he hustled into fresh clothes, zipping his jeans but not bothering to tuck in his tee. Once again the sight of Jenna in his kitchen, her hair caught up in a wild tangle on the top of her head, tightly belted robe showcasing her curves, made his gut clench. And he’d pushed her away.
Crossing to the cupboard by the sink, Bryce pulled down two mugs, pouring coffee into them both. The cream in his fridge was suspect, left over from their time together, but didn’t curdle so he added a dollop to Jenna’s and a sprinkle of sugar. The trifling amount still amused him. After stirring, he set it within her reach. She studiously ignored him as she cracked eggs into a separate pan.
“Sunny side up, sweetheart,” he said quietly, leaning into kiss the nape of her neck.
“I know how you like your eggs, Bryce,” she snapped, slipping past him to hurl the shells into the trash. “I’ve had breakfast with you most every day of the past month.”
She quit talking, a hectic flush climbing from the hollow of her throat to coat her cheeks. Bryce forged into the gap this time. “Then why aren’t you scrambling them?”
Whirling, a metal spatula in her hand, he watched her swallow. “What?”
“You like yours scrambled, Jenna. I wasn’t putting in my order. Just pointing out you were making them sunny side up when I know for a fact you shudder at runny yolks.”
“Make the toast.” She returned to the stove and he watched her lift the bacon to drain on a paper towel set on a plate near the burner.
Bryce dropped four slices of rye into the toaster and shoved the levers down, contemplating her intent attention to the eggs. When the bread popped up he fished them out and dropped them onto a plate, lightly buttering them, knowing Jenna was cautious with fat, just as he was. Bacon was a weekly experience, and subsequently a near holy one. When he was finished, two eggs reposed on a platter, with four strips of perfectly cooked bacon set beside them compliments of Jenna. She put the platter on the table with a definite thump, right between a knife and a fork and took her coffee around to sit opposite.
Bryce brought the toast over and placed it between them, then fetched Jenna a plate.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat some toast, and I’ll scramble you some eggs after I eat these. I won’t let something you cooked get cold,” he responded, taking his seat.
“Not hungry. And there aren’t any more eggs.”
Shit. “Then eat toast and don’t argue with me, Jenna. You have a healthy appetite.”
The look she gave him should have burned him to a crisp. “I only meant you enjoy your food, what you allow yourself to eat, and you can’t deal with the threat of your ex if you don’t have energy.”
She snatched up a piece of toast and bit into it. He didn’t doubt she’d rather be biting his head off.
“I spoke to Darren a few minutes ago, and there’s no sign of the asshole.”
After wiping her mouth with a napkin she replied, visibly anxious, all signs of annoyance gone, “That’s not good. I’d rather somebody see him. I don’t like not knowing where he is.”
“He’ll show his face. You’re safe here, sweetheart. Know it.”
“I do know it, Bryce. I slept well. But I’m not safe from you.”
He washed a bite of eggs and toast down, then folded the last piece of bacon into a piece of toast. “No, you’re not,” he agreed. “But in a good way.”
She sucked her breath in. He heard the wild intake of air, but her words were level and measured. “You need to back off, Bryce. We are over.”
“Nope. I’ll protect you and I’ll convince you we aren’t over while I’m at it.”
“For sheer arrogance you take the cake,” she spat, all pretence of calm gone, furious a
gain. He ached to wrap her up and kiss her silent, but contented himself with a shrug. As he intended it escalated her ire and she shoved away from the table, storming toward the bedroom. He would never allow her to pretend to be indifferent to him.
After cleaning up, and without Jenna showing her face, he decided to push things. Wiping his hands on a towel, he tossed it onto the counter and mentally girded his loins. A strange thought, straight out of those movies he watched with his brother as a kid. They’d laughed and teased each other about the loins part, but never had Bryce needed to find every ounce of energy to prepare to breach someone’s defences.
* * * *
Jenna sat on the chair in Bryce’s bedroom, still reeling from his highly aggravating concurrence that she wasn’t safe from him. Waking that morning, essentially wrapped around his body, felt right. Her brain swiftly caught up and she tried to move away, full of regret. How she had managed to resist him was anyone’s guess. She still wished she hadn’t, deep down, but knew better than to get involved again, especially when it no longer appeared to be just about sex. Well, too late. She’d never come back from being rejected by him a second time, and staying with him was like painting a target on his back—even if Jason was caught and imprisoned, he’d get out at some point and come looking.
She could hear him working in the kitchen. Seeing as she cooked it was fitting he cleaned, she supposed, although she’d have liked to work together…What the hell was she doing? This nightmare would hopefully be over soon and they would be over in any shape or form. The desolation she felt at the thought was overwhelming.
Pushing to her feet, she stripped off her robe and pyjamas, deciding to pull on some jeans and a shirt over her underwear. She turned to make her way to where her luggage sat and halted at the sight of Bryce leaning against the doorframe, his heated eyes on her. Why hadn’t she locked herself in the bathroom? But then, she hadn’t locked that door last night. She sucked in a breath and acknowledged her inability to resist Bryce, no, her not wanting to resist him. God.
Their eyes met and she gave up, unable to fight the pull, aware he had set out to seduce her and no longer able to avoid it. Accepting the fact she was probably a fool and likely going to need her head examined she stood and waited. Bryce read her compliance and crossed to her, yanking his tee off, tossing it away. He took her down onto the rumpled bed, the coarse fabric of his jeans abrading her flesh in a darkly sensuous manner. Then his mouth was on hers, the flavor of strong coffee mingling with the taste of him. She wove her fingers through his hair and kissed him back, the shattered pieces of her heart knitting together, albeit with a multicolored yarn, the strands composed of hope, love and faith. She had to trust he wouldn’t destroy her again.
“Baby,” he muttered against her lips. “You on the pill?”
Pulling away as much as his hold on her would allow, she stared into his eyes and answered, “No, Bryce. But it’s okay. I’ve been tested and I’m clean.”
He lifted his torso and set a knee on either side of her hip, looking down at her. His cock strained at the fly of his jeans and she traced a finger down the length.
Bryce sucked air and took her hand in his. “I’m clean, too, Jenna. But I’m thinking about babies and not making any at this moment.”
A thin slice of pain pierced her intense need for him, familiar yet distant. They’d never talked about personal things, their history. She knew they needed to. Bryce knew a lot about her and Jason, and he’d tried to tell her—“Jenna?”
“I’m sterile, Bryce. More than that. I don’t have a uterus anymore.” His eyes dropped to her belly and his brow furrowed. “They take organs out through orifices now, Bryce,” she said softly.
Dropping beside her, he pulled her to lie against him, belly to belly, nearly nose to nose. Her breasts, confined and aching in her bra, brushed his chest. “You’ve been with me a month and you were never on your period. I noticed, I think, but it didn’t register because—”
“Because you were happy to be fucking me without a time out,” she finished for him and nearly laughed at the rueful look on his face.
“What happened?”
“Infection.” She shrugged, but it still hurt to talk about it. “I was really sick—turns out the IUD didn’t agree with my body. But Jason had beaten me up and didn’t want to take me to the hospital in case somebody put their nose in. By the time he did take me I was septic and they had no choice but to perform surgery. Jason signed for me.”
Bryce’s big hand worked its way between them to lay on her abdomen, the warmth of it significant. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. And you love little ones so much.”
She sighed. “I do. That’s my biggest regret in life. But having a child with Jason didn’t bear thinking about so maybe things do happen for a reason.”
Her sexual need had evaporated, replaced by Bryce’s gentle acceptance and understanding, and she pushed closer, seeking his strength. His hand slipped from between them and he wrapped it around her to hold her close. “We gonna give this a second chance, Jenna?”
Taking a very deep breath, she forced it all out before breathing in enough to answer, clearing her head. “I want to. But Jason isn’t likely to give up, and he’ll—”
Bryce tightened his arms around her hard. “I know I haven’t given you a lot of reason to trust me after what I pulled, sweetheart, but I’m asking you to trust me on this. That asshole is not going to get to you. He will show his hand and we will take him down and whether he goes back to prison or leaves this earth will be up to him. But you’re gonna be free of him.”
Running some of the past scenarios with Jason through her head like some kind of insane horror show, Jenna managed a nod. She badly wanted to trust and believe but Jason had loomed larger than life in several years of her own and she was terrified he would hurt her friends, and if he got to Bryce…
“It’ll be fine. Now, where were we?”
Being rolled to her back, Bryce’s knee inserting itself between her thighs yanked her right into the present and Jenna grabbed on with both hands.
* * * *
Lying amidst the tumbled bedding, still splayed after he pulled out, Jenna waited for her heart to fully subside to normal. The bed dipped and her eyes shifted to the side to watch Bryce’s muscled ass as he headed for the bathroom. It was too much effort to move her head. They had started out sweet and gentle and escalated until Bryce drove into her like a man possessed, shuddering to a halt as they both processed the skin to skin contact. Then he had commenced with slow and easy thrusts, swivelling his hips on every entry, clearly revelling in the sensation. She cocked her knees at his hips, setting her feet into the mattress, giving him full access as her hands drifted along his pectoral muscles and down his abs. She marvelled at the smoothness of his skin beneath the ruff of hair, and watched the ticking in his jaw as he worked above her.
Her sheath stretching around his cock as he pushed impossibly deep, it built, a tingle of awareness originating in both her clit and belly, and she clenched around him.
“Fuck, baby. You’re killing me.” A fine film of sweat sprang out on his chest and she began to rock into him, rubbing her apex against his pelvis, reaching for release. Bryce picked up the pace, dropping over her to wrap her up and hold her close, his mouth opening over hers to thrust his tongue inside, and she shattered, moaning her pleasure into him, stealing his breath. He stilled and she felt his cock pulse, and a shudder wracked him. For a moment his weight sagged down and crushed her, a delicious pressure, before he eased away and her feet slipped, her legs as lax as soft butter.
Water ran and in a moment he returned, a towel and washcloth in either hand. He knelt beside her, and tenderly wiped his cum from between her legs and from her thighs. “Lift up,” he urged.
She managed to comply and he slipped the towel beneath her, drying her in the same motion. The washcloth sailed toward the bathroom and she cared less where it landed. Between them, they managed to free a sheet and pull it up to cover t
hem both as Bryce got back into bed. He casually rested a hand on her hip.
“Met Valerie in high school like I told you,” he said. Jenna somehow didn’t tense up, controlling her flinch, but her skin felt cold.
“There was nothing I could do to resist her, not that I tried. We were inseparable, like teenagers can be.” Like we’ve been this past month, Jenna wanted to say but didn’t.
“First indication she had a problem was at a party. She drank a lot and passed out. I had to carry her to the car and it took a long time to get her to the point where I could take her home. She didn’t pass out so often after that but it was always about the partying. She’d rather drink than fuck, and I was really about the fucking.
“People tried to tell me, a couple of friends, my parents, my brother—especially my brother—but I blew them off, totally loyal to a functioning alcoholic. Then she started to not function so well. I’d started the Criminal Justice Program at the college and wasn’t around to take care of her during the day. She’d cut classes to party with some like-minded friends and it pissed me off. But…I was tied to her. Felt like drowning sometimes.”
Jenna put her hand on top of his, remembering how she’d nearly suffocated with Jason. “My parents were functioning alcoholics for a long time, Bryce. I know the slippery slope.”
He lifted onto one elbow turning his upper body to stare at her. He nodded. “You’d know. But unlike you, I had the choice to get free. I just didn’t take it.”
“I don’t pretend to understand all your reasons, Bryce, but I can guess at some of them. The ties that bind are usually flavored with guilt and obligation. Resentment sours and weakens them later. What happened that you were able to leave?”
Mistake (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 9