Sweet Revenge

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Sweet Revenge Page 13

by Christy Reece


  “Can you stand?”

  She nodded and pulled herself to her feet. When she swayed slightly, Dylan caught her by the shoulders. As much as she wanted to lean into him, she couldn’t. He had made it clear that what had happened before was a mistake. She wouldn’t compound that mistake by offering herself to him again. Making a fool out of herself twice today was going to be her quota.

  “Here, let’s get you into the water.”

  Holding her with one arm, Dylan pulled the shirt still wrapped around her and dropped it on the floor. Before she could protest, he lifted her in his arms and lowered her slowly into the water.

  “It shouldn’t be too hot. Feel okay?”

  A delicious warmth spread through her body. “Feels wonderful.”

  “Still feeling sleepy?”

  “A little.”

  “Lean back against the tub.”

  Sliding deeper into the water, Jamie leaned against the back of the tub and sighed. She knew she should be feeling some kind of embarrassment. Though she’d never been particularly shy about her body, a rational part of her brain reminded her that this man had just rejected her advances.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. “You don’t have to stay.”

  Instead of leaving or telling her he wasn’t going anywhere until he knew she was fine, Dylan did something completely unexpected. Picking up the bottle of lemon-scented shampoo on the side of the tub, he poured a small amount into his palm and said, “Sit up a little.”

  Jamie sat up and then closed her eyes on a sigh at the glorious feel of Dylan’s firm, hard fingers and hands slowly massaging her scalp. The fragrance of lemons wafted through the air, and every argument she had just given herself evaporated. Heat bloomed everywhere, and a moan escaped.

  “Feel good?”

  The husky, thick tone in his voice was so unusual, Jamie opened startled eyes to look at him. Desire, hot and potent, like a thousand blazing candles, burned in his eyes.

  Too afraid to take that look for what she thought it was, she whispered, “Dylan?”

  “Lie back so I can rinse your hair.”

  Her eyes locked with his as she lowered herself into the water. Dylan held her head in one of his big hands and used the other to rinse the soap from her hair.

  No way he didn’t see the need and want on her face. Not only that, her breathing had become more labored and her nipples were peaked … the thought of having his mouth on them made them even harder.

  He finished rinsing. “Sit up a little.”

  Mesmerized, her body throbbing with anticipation of what might come next, Jamie once again sat up.

  Dylan pushed her gently back against the tub and took a washcloth from the shelf beside him. He soaked the cloth with water and then tenderly bathed her face.

  Needing to speed things up, to appease the desire thrumming through her body, and answer the aching throb between her legs, she said, “Dylan … please.”

  “Shh, just relax.”

  Her heart pounding, Jamie kept her eyes glued to his—the desire and need she saw in them turning her on almost as much as his hands. With intense concentration, Dylan moved from her face to her throat and then her shoulders. Her breath held in suspension, she felt the cloth move lower, to her breasts. When the cloth rubbed against a taut nipple, aching for his mouth, she was unable to control her gasp.

  “Feel good?”

  Swallowing hard, she whispered, “Yes.”

  The cloth moved to her other breast, and he circled her nipple gently; then he moved slowly, deliberately down her torso, over her stomach, and veered to her right hip. Jamie couldn’t prevent a moan of disappointment that he hadn’t gone to the spot that needed him the most.

  The gentle lapping of the water as it moved over her body and the increased breathing—hers and his—were the only sounds in the room. She continued to watch his face carefully. The taut line of his jaw indicated that he was striving for control. Her gaze went back to his eyes. She had to know … had to ask. If he stopped and pulled back … if he said it was a mistake again, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. “Dylan, what are you doing?”

  “Making you feel good.”

  Because of what happened earlier? Did he feel guilty about it and this was his way of making it up to her? That wasn’t what she wanted. “You don’t have to—”

  “I want this … need this … please, Jamie?”

  Tightness filled her chest. Big, gruff, and grumpy Dylan Savage was saying please … asking for permission to touch her. Giving up her body completely to his ministrations, Jamie relaxed against the tub again and watched as the cloth in his hand moved back up her leg and then stopped at the inside of her thigh. “Part your legs for me, sweetheart.”

  Whether it was the words or the acknowledgment of his first endearment, she didn’t know. But the instant he spoke, the aching need between her legs grew stronger and became an unrelenting throb. Opening them, Jamie gasped as he tenderly rubbed the cloth over her mound and then in between the folds of her sex. As if consumed by a raging wildfire, all cold dissipated, and heat zoomed throughout her body. The throbbing became an excruciating, pulsing need, begging for an end to the increasing, tormenting pleasure.

  Her whisper of “Please” was answered in the best way possible. Dylan dropped the cloth into the water and Jamie watched, breathlessly, as his fingers disappeared inside her. Strokes, gentle but firm, played and strummed at the top of her sex. Of their own volition, her legs went wider, and Dylan met her invitation by pushing his fingers even deeper. She pushed upward to meet him, her body clenched and spasmed, and a burning, glowing ecstasy followed. Her eyes closed as the intensity of orgasm hit its peak, bright flashes of light appearing before her closed lids.

  She heard moans, gasps, and then a husky, aroused voice that sounded so unlike Dylan’s growled, “Look at me.”

  Feeling languid and needy at the same time, she opened her eyes. Dylan’s expression held fierceness and more emotion than she’d ever thought she’d see in him.

  “Do you want more?”

  Unable to verbalize just how much, she splashed water everywhere as she reached for him. Grabbing his shoulders, she pulled him down and answered him with an openmouthed invitation against his lips. With a growling groan, Dylan put his hands around her waist and picked her up. Suddenly, Jamie was out of the tub, wet and deliciously aroused, and clinging to Dylan’s hard body.

  Never letting go of Jamie’s lips, Dylan snagged a towel and headed into her bedroom. When he dropped her on the edge of the bed and began to dry her hair, she surprised the hell out of him and took the towel from his hands. “I can do this.” Her gaze dropped to his pants. “Your clothes are all wet. Why don’t you get out of them?”

  The confident, sultry tone in her voice almost undid him. A sexually assertive Jamie was a turn-on beyond his imaginings. Dylan stripped, and in seconds was on the bed with her.

  Their arms closing around each other, hands caressed, lips met, parted, delved into each other, and passion, need, and burning desire shut out everything else. The war Dylan had waged for so long was lost … the battle over, as a lifetime of denial disintegrated beneath an onslaught of fierce, burning need.

  A brief semblance of sanity put passion on pause; he lifted his mouth from hers. “I don’t have any condoms.”

  “I do.”

  At some point, he’d be shocked by that news and want to know more. For right now, he was too damn grateful to do anything other than ask, “Where?”

  “Bedside table.”

  Dylan rolled over, found the package, and ripped into it. Sliding the rubber onto his erection, he turned back to her and had to stop. He hadn’t taken the time to relish this moment as he should have. He’d been about to mount her as if she were just another woman to slake his lust with, instead of who she was: the most beautiful, precious thing in the whole world.

  He could’ve lost her today. His stupidity and arrogance could have cost him the one woman he’d gladly give h
is life for. The fact that he had no future with her no longer mattered. If he did nothing else right for the rest of his life, he would give Jamie a night to savor and remember forever.

  With that in mind, Dylan retained control of his emotions and lust, and bent down to give her the satisfaction she deserved.

  Lying on his side next to her, he pressed his mouth softly, briefly to hers and then feathered kisses, one after another, on her sweet lips. Her breath hitched, and Dylan took it into his mouth, blending her gasps with his own. Moving his mouth lower, he followed the silken skin beneath her chin and then her neck. Stopping at the hollow of her throat, he bathed her skin with his tongue. When she groaned, “Oh yes, Dylan, more,” he thought he would lose it. Desire pounded through him, and he closed his eyes for a moment to regain control. After dreaming about this every night for months, damned if he’d rush to the end. Not when the journey was so unbelievably delicious and worthwhile.

  “Are you okay?”

  He opened his eyes to see Jamie’s concerned face. A small smile lifted his mouth. “Yeah. Just want to take my time … but it’s getting harder and harder.” And he meant that literally.

  Her fingers trailed down his chest in a soft, teasing caress. “You don’t have to go slow.”

  “Shh.” His tongue swirled around a taut, beautifully erect nipple. A little gasping sigh and the way she arched her body, as if offering him more, told him she was right there with him.

  Gliding his tongue over to her other breast, he sucked gently. He loved her taste, the sexy, sweet moves of her body, the soft moans she gave with each new area he licked. Dylan was quickly realizing that no matter how slow or how fast he went, he was never going to get enough of her.

  Jamie groaned again as Dylan moved from her breasts over to her abdomen, stopping at her navel for a quick swirl of his tongue. She was going insane. Never had she realized how torturous pleasure could be. Her body was so ready for him, she could feel the warmth of her arousal on her inner thighs.

  She closed her eyes on a gasping sigh. How much longer could Dylan hold out? How long could she?

  The answer came faster than she expected. Opening her eyes, she watched Dylan move to the end of the bed … with deliberation and utmost care, his hands parted her thighs and pushed her legs up. And then his tongue was there—in the exact spot she needed it the most. Her body came off the bed, and with a soft scream, pleasure flooded through her.

  She came back to herself and realized that Dylan was gently licking, softly thrusting. She was still throbbing, the deliciousness of her release still zooming through her, and amazingly, she felt a new tension, another need. This time, she wanted him with her.

  “Dylan, please … come inside me.”

  He raised his head, and Jamie lost what breath she’d been able to catch. His expression was a look of such need and want, she almost cried. Holding out her arms to him, she said softly, “Come here. Please.”

  With a guttural groan, Dylan lowered himself over her and, with one hard thrust, buried himself deep. Jamie wrapped her legs around his hips and held him as his control shattered. As he plunged and retreated over and over, she held on, loving the hard body above her, the steely hard penis inside her. This was what she’d wanted for what seemed like forever. And then all thought and reason disappeared as climax was upon her again—sweeter, hotter, and even more wonderful than before. Jamie closed her eyes and let the magic happen once more.

  As if he’d been waiting for her release, Dylan increased his thrusts, covered her mouth, and plunged his tongue with the same earth-shattering rhythm of his erection. And as he issued another deep growl, Jamie felt the throbbing inside her. Then his entire body stiffened and he came.

  His breathing labored, Dylan moved off her and held her close. Jamie snuggled against his chest. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking. What did this mean to him? Had it been momentous and life-changing … as it had for her? Or was this just a life-affirming event after the scary experience in the water?

  Too afraid to ask … to know the truth, Jamie closed her eyes and treasured these moments in his arms, because a growing dark dread within told her it might be the last chance she ever had.

  Dylan looked down at the woman in his arms. Her face glowed softly, and a small, satisfied smile covered her beautiful mouth. She looked happy, content. But he had to ask … had to make sure. “No bad moments?”

  Her eyes lit up and, if anything, her expression grew even more content. “Absolutely none at all.”

  Swallowing an unexpected lump in his throat, he tightened his arms around her and blew out a silent sigh of relief. He’d seen and felt no hesitancy, no fear. She’d gone into his arms willingly, passionately, eagerly. But until he’d heard those words, he hadn’t been completely sure.

  He didn’t want to think about the monumental event that had just taken place. His body felt sated and at peace—a feeling he hadn’t had in years. Hell, had he ever felt this way? The answer would be no. He’d had sex before. This had been on a whole different plane.

  From the moment he’d rescued her, seen the tears shimmering in her eyes and that brave, determined chin lifted in defiance, he had loved her. For a man who’d never loved anyone other than the frail old woman who’d taken him in when the law finally caught up with his old man, to acknowledge that he loved Jamie was huge. Not that admitting it changed a damn thing. His life and her life had intersected because of one horrific incident. That was it. If things had been normal, she would have gone back to her former life and he would have gone on with his. That was still going to happen; it had just been delayed a while. With Reddington not getting the punishment he deserved and Jamie’s need for retribution, matters had gotten complicated. Once Reddington was behind bars, life could go back to the way it was meant to be.

  He’d fucked up a lot of things over the years, but this might be his biggest mistake yet. How the hell was he going to explain that what had just happened couldn’t happen again … shouldn’t have happened at all? He didn’t want to hurt her … but, hell, was it possible not to?

  “You know, all of that thinking can give you a headache.”

  Should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to hide from her for long. Since telling her his thoughts would either hurt her or start an argument neither of them could win, he asked a question that pleasure had relegated to the back of his mind until now. “Why’d you bring a box of condoms with you?”

  She was silent for several seconds and then said, “I like to blow them up and make little animals out of them.”

  Chuckling at the image, he tightened his arms around her and asked quietly, “Why, Jamie?”

  She shrugged. “Because I hoped. That’s why.”

  “Hoped what?”

  Rising up on her elbow, she gazed down at him. Her hair looked like a dark gold waterfall around her slender shoulders, and Dylan clenched his fist to keep from grabbing a handful of it and rubbing it against his face to inhale the fresh scent. She looked like a mussed, rumpled, deliciously satisfied angel. Unable to keep from touching her, he brushed a damp strand of hair from her face. “What did you hope?”

  “You can’t be surprised that I was attracted to you.”

  No, he’d seen it in her eyes … one of the many reasons he’d been such an ass. Had thought that if she hated him, the hero worship would pass. Instead, she had taken his snarls and given them right back to him.

  Apparently not expecting an answer, she said, “Can I ask you a question?”

  He tried not to react, but despite his efforts, he found himself holding his breath. A lifetime of hiding behind a mask of indifference had already cracked wide open today. Sharing more was well beyond his limits. Nevertheless, he had to say, “Yeah. What?”

  Though the room was dim, he had no trouble seeing the hesitancy in her expression or the glint of hurt in her eyes. Guilt stabbed him deep. After sharing her body in the most selfless way possible, she had every right to ask him anything she wanted.


  “What will LCR do to Reddington if they can get the proof they need?”

  It wasn’t the question she wanted to ask … he knew that much. She had probably realized the pointlessness of asking anything personal. His chest tightened. Jamie was already recognizing the reality—she couldn’t count on him. Though it was a necessary lesson, that didn’t lessen the regret he felt for hurting her.

  If he could give her nothing else, he could give her this assurance. “It’s a question not of if, but when. We will find what we need. And when we do, we’ll have enough evidence to prove, without a shadow of a doubt, what he’s been doing. No amount of money or influence will protect him then. He’ll go to prison forever, Jamie. I promise you that.”

  “And his son?”

  “Since he was grooming the kid to take over for him, we’ll do our best to nail him, too. Just depends on what evidence we can get on his involvement.”

  Nodding, she put her head back on his chest, and without any effort at all, Dylan closed his arms around her. Stupid, he knew. They needed to get up. Jamie was still damp from her soaking … her hair was still damp, and she needed a meal after all the energy she’d expended during the last few hours.

  This was the first time in days she’d brought up Reddington. He should be asking her questions, trying to ease out any information she was keeping from them. Hell, he just needed to get away from her before he did something else stupid. Instead, he held her tighter and savored the warmth of her soft, delicate body.

  Surprising him, she was the one to pull away. “I think I’ll go start dinner.”

  Dylan lay still and watched her get dressed. “How are you feeling?”

  In the middle of buttoning her shirt, she looked at him. “Hungry and kind of tired but not too bad … considering.”

  “I’m sorry I pushed you.”

  “You didn’t push me to do anything. You acted like an ass. I had a choice of either giving it right back to you or running. I made the wrong choice.”

 

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