She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.
Had she ever appeared so vulnerable and lost before, she mulled, and was stunned by the look of desperate need on her face. Taken aback, she moved again, this time bypassing the shiny glistening white tub.
As she drew closer to her destination, the air left her lungs.
She had no semblance of herself.
But, still, she reasoned, inhaling a desperate breath.
How could she possibly turn away from this moment?
The open shower fell into view, and as she caught of his wet, naked body, she nearly came apart. For he was a sight to behold---
He stood with his back to her, not realizing that she was there.
In fine streams, the water coursed down him.
She clutched the front of the nightgown with shaky hands.
And his body---
The one that she’d tasted, touched, and loved on so many occasions…
It was contoured like a well-sculpted masterpiece.
Long hours in the sun had served him so graciously, she thought, drawing in a long breath, and leaned her back against the wall for support. From head to toe, his skin was a rich brown bronze color. At once, he turned slightly to the side, and she caught full view of his bulging erection.
And dear heavens, he was fighting to stave his raw needs, she gasped, subconsciously grabbing hold of the nightgown’s hemline. As she watched him, she hitched it up her thigh, and the fabric whispered up her tingling skin.
She ached…
She felt….
She needed him…
And he needed her, she mulled, drugged, enslaved by the sight as he closed a hand around his engorged organ. As the water sprayed against his raging flesh, he shut his eyes tight while struggling to bear his needs and agony.
Her own breaths came fast as she inched the nightgown higher, fighting to appease her own dark needs as she slipped a hand inside the bikini panties. Drugged, lost, she hurled herself willingly into the forbidden place.
With his every stroke along his shaft, she stroked her inner lips, and before long the wetness bathed her slim fingers as it seeped from her deep insides.
His breaths were harsh and erratic as the cold water sprayed against him.
So was her own, she moaned, struggling to control her cry.
His movements quickened.
She increased her own pace.
Haunted, lost in their dark pleasurable world, they sought a forbidden, sensual ending to their torture.
A subtle coolness seeped the room.
The cool steam clung to the walls like misty dew, and rose within the shower walls.
Yet, it had little effect on their fiery heat.
Finally, he reached his peak. “Olivia,” he rasped hoarsely, and his huge body shook as pleasure overtook him.
Wanton, needy, she cried out softly as she absorbed her own, and her eyes fluttered closed as the spasms racked through her. Tumbling mindlessly and willingly through the sensual fog, she struggled to find herself.
A breathless moment later, she did.
Releasing a shuddering breath, she opened her eyes, and as she did, she stared directly into his across the way. Her heartbeat thudded out of control as their gazes held, and all at once, both guilt and shame crashed through her---for hadn’t she invaded upon such a private moment and made it all about herself?
But, rather than anger, his green eyes gleamed with fire and a blatant invitation. As he faced her fully, she nearly crumpled to the floor. In all his nude glory, he gave her a total unblemished view of what she was missing.
And what could be hers again…
Trembling, weakened, she leaned against the wall and returned his deep stare.
They said no words.
For none were needed.
Finally, he broke the spell. “Olivia---”
Releasing a breathless cry, she fled from the room.
Moments later, with the door locked between them once again, she lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. While she’d fled earlier, she would never be able to escape the real truths or herself.
The truth was irrefutable.
She wanted, needed, and loved him beyond reasoning.
***
Within the next few days, she avoided Jarrod as much as possible, and it was something that proved to be difficult since they were living under the same roof. But, she was careful to always make sure that Rosa or Meghan was around whenever he was present in her company.
Still, though, she couldn’t hide her embarrassed flush whenever his deep gaze settled on her. Without a doubt, like her, he was obsessing about that night when both of their inhibitions had been lowered.
But, days later, on an early Wednesday morning, she ran fresh out of luck as she encountered him while en route to the kitchen, and he was on his way to the study. She looked to the floor as they passed. “Hi, Jarrod,” she said quickly, flushing red, and continued walking. “Good morning.”
“Olivia, wait,” Jarrod said, grasping her elbow, and stayed her. His intense green eyes ran over her face. “We need to talk.”
Tilting her chin, she met his gaze. “There’s nothing for us to talk about.”
A speculative gleam shone in his eyes. “Oh, I beg to differ,” he murmured quietly. “And I don’t think discussing our situation here is a wise idea since Rosa and Meghan are close by. We’ll talk in the study.”
“Since you’re going to be so boorish with your behavior, I have no choice but to acquiesce,” she said primly, pulling free. “Meghan and I have a full day planned. As a matter of fact, we’ll start our riding lessons shortly. So let’s get on with this.”
His nod was brisk. “Fine. I know how important that time is for the both of you.”
With his long gait, Jarrod led the way to the study, and a moment later, she settled in the chair across the mahogany desk while he took the chair behind it. After edging the chair closer to the desk, he eyed her across the space. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
Her brows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean, what’s going on?”
Leaning back in the chair, he ran a cool green gaze over her. “You know what the hell I mean. Why were you in my room the other night?”
Flushing red, she looked down at the floor. “I think it’s best that we forget that anything ever happened.”
“What if I don’t want to forget?” Jarrod demanded roughly, eyeing her close, and a dangerous gleam glinted in his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I believe it’ll be a grave mistake if we do.”
“I---I suppose that I should apologize for invading your space and privacy like that,” she stammered, and her blush deepened. “It was wrong of me---”
“Damn it, Olivia. I don’t want your apology,” he muttered, sounding on edge, and pushed himself up from the chair before walking around the desk. Once he reached the front, he perched on the desk’s edge, and now, only a few inches separated them. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want there to be any barriers between us at all. Whenever you feel the need to invade my privacy like that, you’re free to do so. I want you to.”
She swallowed hard. “Again, it was wrong of me to come into the bathroom while you were showering---”
“You wanted to be with me,” he whispered, and his words held so much longing.
“You don’t know what I wanted,” she said stiffly, staring down at the floor. “I suppose that I got a little carried away, and I’m embarrassed that you saw me touching myself---”
“No. I don’t ever want you to be ashamed of what you want sexually. It’s the biggest crime that you can commit against yourself. Even if you’re too afraid to voice your thoughts about that night, I’m not.” Kneeling down before the chair, he grasped her shaky hands in his. “Like now, you were trembling all over with need. You wanted me to touch you where you were touching yourself. You wanted me inside you, buried so deep that you couldn’t breathe. I bet you were dripping wet from the inside out, w
eren’t you?” he taunted, reaching out to caress her cheek. “When I touch you deep down there, your sweet wetness seeps from your thighs like falling rain.”
“Stop it,” she whispered, haunted by his words, and against her will, her eyes clung to his. “Don’t say those things to me. You don’t have that right anymore.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong again, my sweet love. I have every right because of the way I feel about you. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m literally obsessed by the idea of being with you in every way. Something tells me that it’s the same for you even though you’re not willing to admit that yet. But, soon, you will again. I have a confession,” he rasped, tracing her palm with the pad of his thumb, a move that sent shivers coursing up her spine. “From the moment that you came in, I knew that you were there.”
Her stunned gaze met his. “What?” she gasped.
“As soon as you walked in, I felt your presence,” he said, and his green gaze was hypnotizing. “But, still, I thought that it was just a figment of my imagination. When you ventured further in, I caught sight of your reflection in the mirror, and all I can remember is being thrilled by the fact that you came to me.” His eyes had a look of longing. “I’ve never seen you look so vulnerable and lost.”
“You had no right,” she accused, breathing fast, not from exertion, but from the fact that he was touching her and so close.
“Again, I had every right, just as I do now,” he rasped, sliding his hands up her calves slowly before easing them beneath her skirt. His warm hands clutched her silken clad thighs, and her skin was afire in the thin pantyhose. Watching her, he slid his hands across her thighs in deep, massaging motions, and sensual danger lurked in his green depths. As she took in a shuddering breath, a satisfied gleam shone in his eyes. “And just like that night, I want to climb inside you and take you until you can’t even remember your fucking name. My name is the only thing that you’ll call until you have not a single breath remaining.”
“I told you to stop it,” she whispered, clutching the arms of the chair, struggling to keep her body to still, and failed to. As his hands neared the edges of the pantyhose, her body rose from the chair on its own volition, seeking his touch, and then, she gasped as he tugged them gently down her thighs and calves. In a silent whisper, they cascaded to the carpeted floor. “Jarrod, we can’t do this. This is wrong.”
“Why is wrong when we both want it?” he whispered in turn, hauling her forward, and thrilled her senses with another dangerous stare. “And if you say you don’t, I’m going to call you for the liar that you are.”
Breathless, helpless against her selfish desires, she tumbled onto his lap. “Jarrod---” she said weakly, laying a hand against his chest, but did little to thwart his amorous efforts. “Please---”
“No, don’t you fucking rationalize the fact that we want each other. Don’t talk, just feel,” he rasped, and the shadows played across her face as his head descended. His words breathed close to her badly trembling lips. “Feel what you feel for me and don’t be afraid of it.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as he drew closer.
His lips were just a hair breadth away, she mulled, inhaling an unsteady breath.
And was the word ‘want’ truly a word to describe her obsessive need for this man?
The cell phone shrilled on his desk.
But, it was an intrusion that was needed, she mulled, dazed, pushing away from him before stumbling up. “I have to go,” she mumbled with an embarrassed flush, bending over to retrieve the pantyhose and heels. “This was a mistake.”
As he stood beside her, she avoided looking at him.
“Damn it, Olivia, wait,” he muttered, grabbing her hand. “We aren’t finished.”
Firming her lips, she pulled free. “You have an important call---”
“Fuck the call. Whoever the hell it is, I’ll call them right back,” he cursed, raking a hand through his hair, and then blew a frustrated breath. “I want to talk about us---you and me---to hell with everything else.”
She stared at him defiantly. “But, there is no us, not anymore.”
“How can you even say that after what happened the other night and just now?” he fired back, looking at her accusingly. “You want to be with me just as much as I want to be with you. You can lie to yourself all that you want.”
“I’m not the one who needs to face the truth, you are,” she stated firmly, holding the articles of clothing close to her body. “The truth is we’re further apart than we’ve ever been, and us having sex isn’t going to change any of that.”
The hurt look flashed along his handsome visage. “So, it’s just sex to you now?” he asked, stiffening, and then, angered, he strode back behind the desk. After taking a seat in the chair that he’d vacated earlier, he began shuffling through the papers.
“What do you want me to do, Jarrod?” she continued, and her own anger seethed at the edges. “Pretend that nothing’s happened between us or that you haven’t been lying to me for months?”
“And you’ll never let me forget that fact, will you?” he said angrily, hurling the pen to the desk. “Let me guess. You’re going to make it your life’s mission to remind me that I’m a cad for ruining your precious virtue. Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s working because the truth is permanently ingrained in my dark conscience.”
“I hope it is because I will never forget what you’ve done to me,” she stated firmly, facing her own hurt again. “Every moment, I need to be reminded of the fact that you used me. That way I won’t continue to make mistakes like I did the other night.”
“So, rather than masturbating in my full view, you’ll do it in your bed alone,” he bit back in a whiplash tongue. “You will never be able to run far enough to erase the memory of my touch. While your mind is busy conjuring up these convoluted denials, your body will always be your biggest betrayer.”
She inhaled a sharp breath. “Damn you.”
“And I won’t be the only one damned, will I? Every moment that you deprive yourself of being with me, you’ll be reminded that you are,” Jarrod muttered, leaning back in the chair, and his green eyes were frozen over. Looking away from her coolly, he picked the pen from the desk again. “It’s obvious that we’ve reached an impasse again. I have some things to work on. You can see your own way out.”
She barely suppressed her hurt and stunned gasp at his blatant dismissal. “Just stay away from me, Jarrod. That’s all I ask.”
Firming her shoulders, she didn’t look back as she marched for the door.
He didn’t look up until the door closed behind her.
Releasing a tired sigh, he hurled the pen back on the desk before standing.
“Way to go, Sabatino,” he muttered, shaking his head, and stared out the window. “You’ve scared her off again and with these tactics, you’ll never win her back.”
The morning sun was already emitting heat, and it couldn’t even be felt from the window pane that he stood close to, he thought, trailing his eyes over the outdoor space. Probably, it’d show no mercy within the elements.
Then, he caught sight of Meghan and Olivia, and they were both racing towards the stables. Of course, Meghan was in the lead, he grinned, taking in his daughter’s silent laughter as it played across her face. At some point, Olivia had changed into a t-shirt and shorts, and now, she chased after his daughter with a playful gleefulness.
For a moment, he just stood there and absorbed the sight of the playful banter between his daughter and the woman that he loved, mulling at the prospect of them all being happy again. Suddenly restless, he let the curtain fall.
But, as he turned to face the silence, the truth of his past deceits grappled him.
What if it was too late for him to rectify his sins and win her back?
Chapter 9
Three weeks passed, and like she had at Laramie Rock, she settled in at Widow’s Pointe. Her days, of course, were spent with Meghan with them playing or hanging out with Rosa
. She’d also been surprised to learn that she knew how to ride horseback which only created more opportunity for her and Meghan to spend together.
And her nights…they went to totally obsessing about their last encounter and Jarrod’s proposition, she mulled, stretching with a wide yawn as the Monday morning sunlight spilled across the bed, announcing the arrival of a new day.
She’d yet to give an answer.
Not that he seemed eager that she did, she thought, disappointed, falling back against the pillows. Truth be told, since their argument weeks before, he’d more than given her the space that she’d asked for.
No doubt, it was a case of be careful what you wish for, she sighed, despondent. She’d asked that he’d leave her alone, and he had in subtle ways so that Rosa or Meghan wouldn’t notice their mutual discord.
She bit her lip in concentration.
In ways, he was there, but not there.
At breakfast, lunch, and dinner, his presence was felt. Not only that, but things seemed to be thawing between him and Meghan with her being more receptive to him.
When it came to her, he was cordial, and he was almost treating her like a distant relative or friend, she frowned, clutching the pillow close to her body. Plus, at no point, had he made any romantic overtures towards her or made opportunities to be alone with her. At night, when she’d retreated for bed, he always made sure to be busy in the study, pouring over paperwork. But, still, for hours, she’d laid alone in the huge bed, staring at the adjoining door, waiting and secretly praying that he’d come to her.
For hadn’t he claimed that he’d do everything in his power to win her back, her mind argued.
“But, you haven’t, and I want to know why,” she murmured, kicking the covers off. “And there’s only one way to find out.”
A fast look at the clock said that it was around 7:00 am, and if her guess was right, he was helping out at the stables. Minutes later, face freshly scrubbed and devoid of any makeup, dressed in a form-fitting scoop-necked, black tank top, cut-off denim shorts, and canvas shoes, she stood in the bathroom mirror and finished twisting her long dark tresses into a loose ponytail. Hopefully, her attire wasn’t too suggestive, she thought, biting her lip, noticing her cleavage.
The Darkest Danger (Shattered Series Book 2) Page 13