Brazen

by Maya Banks

  garden tub. He lowered her into the steaming water. Her small, pink-tipped breasts slowly disappeared from view. They bobbed a bit in the water, and the swell was still evident over the rise of the water. It was a torturous sight for him. He wanted to touch her, lean down and run his tongue over that tempting strip of pale flesh, draw the puckered nipple into his mouth.

  “Are you okay with this?” he asked. She never took baths, and he wasn’t sure that day she’d jumped in the pool had completely cured her of her fears.

  She let out a moan that sounded like a mix of pleasure and pain as she rested her head against the back of the tub. “I’m okay. Enjoying it too much to panic.”

  He frowned as he saw a bruise already forming at her hairline. He reached up to touch it then traced a path back further into her hair and saw a bloody cut.

  “You probably need stitches. I should have taken you straight to the hospital,” he said in a near growl.

  She opened her eyes and focused her stare on him. “Seth, I’m okay. Really. No blurred vision. No nausea. I only lost consciousness for a bit.”

  He swore again. “The fact that you lost consciousness at all is a damn good reason for you to be in the hospital. How do you know how long you were out? You never wear a damn watch, and I doubt you’d have noticed what time it was on your way off the horse.” The sarcasm crept into his voice despite his desire not to upset her.

  She smiled then winced at what the action cost her. “It wasn’t long. I just got the breath knocked out of me. I didn’t push myself too hard trying to get back. I don’t want to go to the hospital. I’d rather stay here with you.”

  Her words balanced delicately between them. Stood as a barrier. He wanted her here with him as well, and that was a huge problem. He reached up to turn off the water and stood awkwardly.

  “I’ll be in your room. When you’re done, holler. I’ll come get you.”

  Without waiting for a response, he turned and got out as quickly as he could, not caring that he was running like a coward.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jasmine closed her eyes again and sank lower into the tub. She would sigh, but it would hurt too damn much. She felt like one giant bruise, and she was so tired she could feel exhaustion beating at her, beating her down.

  She wanted him to hold her again. She’d stay in the tub for a long while, until the water cooled, but she knew the longer she made him wait, the more likely it would be that he’d run as far away from her as he could. And no matter that she’d forced herself to once again confront her fears, she still felt uneasy in the water.

  So she soaked a few more minutes and then called out to him. He appeared seconds later, his expression controlled. As he came to the edge of the tub, he frowned.

  “Aren’t you going to wash your hair and that cut?”

  “I’m not sure I can,” she replied honestly. It wasn’t a blatant play for his attention. She wanted to be in his arms, but she wasn’t playing flirty little games with him. She wasn’t sure she could lift her arms, much less undertake the arduous task of washing her hair.

  His expression softened as he knelt by the tub. “Turn around,” he said. “Scoot up and lean back so I can wet your hair.”

  She hesitated for a fraction of a second before she did as he said. The water swirled and sucked at her body as she positioned herself so he could better reach her hair. She folded her knees to her chest and inched forward. She nearly moaned in pleasure when his warm hands folded over her shoulders and guided her back so that she was reclined in the water. She swallowed some of her nervousness as the water worked higher over her body.

  He held her with one hand and pulled his other hand through her hair until all the strands were soaked. “Okay, sit up, baby.”

  He pushed gently until she was once again sitting upright. She heard the squeegee-like sound of him squirting shampoo into his hand, and then he dug his fingers into her scalp.

  She let her eyes flutter shut and leaned back into his touch. He massaged and lathered, working the soap into her hair. With each rub, she relaxed more. She didn’t even flinch when he carefully worked around her cut.

  “Like that?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  It was over too soon and he began to rinse her hair. She let out a small sound of disappointment when he signaled he was finished.

  “Stay where you are,” he ordered when she started to lift herself out of the tub. He plunged his arms deeper into the water and curled them underneath her knees.

  With seemingly no effort, he lifted her out of the water. It streamed down her body and pelted the floor. He paused only to wrap a towel around her body and then one around her hair before he carried her into the bedroom.

  He set her on the bed and pulled the covers down. “You want a T-shirt?”

  She should say yes and make it easier for him, but why should it be so easy for him when it was so hard for her? She shook her head.

  “Let me look at that cut now that it’s clean,” he said before she could shed her towel and climb underneath the covers.

  He reached for the towel covering her head and pulled it away. He rubbed the cloth over her hair, ruffling it in an effort to dry it as much as he could. After a bit, he tossed it aside and put his hand back to her head. She sat still while he thumbed a part in her hair so he could view the wound.

  “Am I hurting you?” he asked.

  “No,” she whispered. Though it wasn’t entirely true. She couldn’t stand this stiffness between them. He alternated between hot and cold, soft and hard with her. As if he couldn’t make up his mind whether to love her or despise her. She was tired of feeling like a coin flip.

  “It doesn’t look bad. I’d feel better if a doctor looked at it, but I think it’ll be okay.”

  She nodded slowly. Then she looked up at him and wondered at the picture they made. Him standing above her on the bed. Her sitting with just a towel wrapped around her, her heart in her eyes.

  As if drawn to the image in her head, he lowered his hand until he cupped her chin. His thumb rubbed across her cheek in a sensuous line. She stared unflinchingly at him, not caring if she was broadcasting her need. She wasn’t ashamed.

  His head moved closer. She inched hers higher. His hand slipped away. His lips were just inches from her.

  He stood to his full height, and she slumped in disappointment. “You should rest,” he said gruffly.

  “I’m not tired.” And it was true. The exhaustion that had permeated her every pore just moments earlier had now washed away. Every nerve was standing on end, her awareness of him a living, breathing thing. “Stay with me. Please?”

  Rife indecision carved lines across his face. At his sides, his fingers curled back and forth into fists, betraying his unease. When had things gotten so unbearable between them?

  Just when she was convinced he’d say no and beat a hasty retreat from her room, he let out a small sound of defeat and sat down on the bed next to her.

  “I’ll stay if you rest.”

  She allowed some of the tension to escape her, and almost immediately, the fatigue was back. She sagged against the bed like a deflated balloon. Seth caught her and eased her down, then he moved up behind her and gingerly laid his arm across her waist.

  She scooted back against his warmth, seeking the comfort of his arms, his touch, the feel of being melded to his body. She twisted restlessly against him until his arm tightened around her, a clear command for her to stop.

  Edginess surrounded her. She itched on the inside.

  “Relax,” he murmured in her ear.

  His hand came up to stroke her hair. She smiled and allowed herself to settle. She loved it when he touched her hair.

  After a few minutes, the dampness from the towel chased a chill up her arms. Her skin prickled and rose with bumps.

  “You need to get out of this towel,” he said, though he didn’t sound happy about the fact.

  Instead of waiting for his inevitable retreat, she simply rol
led and shimmied until she was free of the towel. She threw it across the room and pulled the covers up over her. She slid her naked back against his chest once more, wanting to restore their earlier closeness.

  “Jasmine…” he began.

  She rolled over to face him, her fingers seeking his face. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please, don’t go.”

  She lifted her chin and pushed in closer until their lips met. He stiffened, his resistance clear in his body language.

  She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, encouraging him closer, needing him closer. “Please.” She was begging. She didn’t care.

  Emotion swelled in her throat. Don’t let him push her away again. God, please, no.

  “Jasmine, I can’t—”

  She kissed him again.

  “Jasmine.” His voice grew quieter, his objection fading.

  She kissed him again, pulling him still closer.

  “I need you,” she whispered. “Show me, Seth. Show me how it can be.”

  “You’re hurt. You need rest.”

  “I need you.” She wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. He came, sliding his body along hers. She spent no time rejoicing over her victory. She didn’t want to give him any chance to think better of it.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, the pain in his voice making her shiver.

  “I know you didn’t. I should have told you it was my first time.”

  “It will be better this time,” he promised.

  “I know it will.”

  He crushed her to him, his lips molding to hers. He tasted her, devoured her, explored her with alternating roughness and tenderness.

  There was a wildness about him that was ever-present, something he couldn’t control, a part as integral to him as breathing, and yet, at times, he tempered it. He would pull himself back, she could feel it, as he skated close to the edge, he’d retreat, his movements gentling.

  His kisses became more tender as his body moved urgently against hers, a compelling contrast, two motions completely at odds.

  She pulled at his shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin, wanting to wrap his heat around her. He paused long enough to help her, yanking his shirt off. Then he knelt up and unbuttoned his jeans. He stepped off the bed and kicked off the remainder of his clothes, and she pushed up on her elbow, watching him there in front of her, naked, glorious, strong.

  He stood for a long moment, allowing her the luxury of staring at his lean body. Her gaze skirted up and down his taut abdomen then lower to the juncture of his thighs. His cock, stiff, distended, jutted from the dark smattering of hair.

  Hard, he was hard everywhere. Muscular, tight. His blue eyes blazed with lust as he looked down at her.

  She opened her arms to him, inviting him back down, praying with all she had that he wouldn’t refuse her. He lowered himself to her body, and she wrapped herself around him, her relief so strong it left her weak.

  He kissed her neck, nipped and nibbled then soothed with his tongue. They were blanketed by their passion, their hunger for one another all-consuming.

  For Jasmine it was all she’d ever wanted. For Seth? She could imagine it was all he ever wanted to avoid. The idea should hurt her, should drive the wedge of despair even deeper, but she clung to the small hope that he loved her but was too proud, too stubborn to give in.

  She arched her neck, wanting more of his mouth, eager to feel his tongue on her skin. He skimmed along the hollow of her throat, lower to her chest and finally to the mounds of her breasts.

  A sound of pure feminine appreciation escaped as he mouthed one nipple, licked over the tip then sucked gently on the bud. His fingers trailed down her sides, to her hips then feathered over her belly. He plucked at her belly ring before allowing his mouth to slide down to the dainty piece of jewelry at her navel.

  “You did this for me,” he murmured.

  She smiled. “I did it because I knew it would drive you insane.”

  “Evil little wench.”

  She shifted restlessly underneath him, opening her legs, spreading them wider to accommodate him. He smiled at her blatant invitation.

  “Kiss me…there,” she said. “I want your tongue, your lips.”

  He nuzzled between her tender flesh and licked at the slick skin. Each swipe sent warm flushes streaking through her abdomen. Her body felt too warm, too flushed, too out of control. Her senses were not her own. They belonged to the man lying between her legs, his mouth taking her to her absolute limits.

  He sucked lightly at her clit, not too hard, oh she loved that. Too hard would have been uncomfortable, but he seemed to understand the right balance between just enough pressure and not too much.

  His tongue licked and flitted over each little sweet spot, her body tightening more and more with each stroke. Higher and higher she climbed, even as her mind protested. Not yet. She didn’t want to come yet.

  She didn’t even realize that the whimper was hers. That the small uttered “no” spilled from her lips.

  Seth raised his head, his expression intense, his eyes glittering with a dangerous need. She trembled when his hands gripped her thighs, and he slowly spread her legs wider.

  He eased upward, his body moving along hers. Every scrape of his skin against hers sent a purr of contentment soaring through her throat. His hair-roughened legs slid along the inside of her thighs as he inched closer to her aching pussy.

  Her hands met his face, cupped it, then she raised her lips to his. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and dragged her heels over his tight ass. Her ankle protested but she didn’t care. The pain was nothing next to wanting to wrap herself around him as tight as she could go.

  “How you tempt me,” he whispered in seeming agony. “You’re so beautiful. So innocent looking. An angel.”

  “Take me,” she said. “Make me yours. Please.”

  The head of his cock rimmed her entrance, stretching it as he slid inside the barest of inches. Heat enveloped her like a brand. Her body stretched to accommodate him as he pressed forward.

  “Tell me…if I hurt you,” he gritted out.

  She shook her head. “You’re not.”

  With a small groan, he buried his face in her neck and surged against her, burying himself deep. A deep sigh of utter contentment rolled over her body.

  He cradled her close, holding her, kissing her as he moved his hips against her. She dug her fingers into his back, wanting him closer, trying to absorb him into her soul. She never wanted this moment to end. Didn’t want reality to intrude. Not now. Not ever.

  He kissed her neck then slid his mouth up to her ear. His tongue circled the shell, sending shivers down her spine. Then he kissed his way down her jaw until he finally captured her mouth.

  Soft then hard, breathless then slow. His lips moved over hers, sucking, tasting, taking and giving. She knew he was holding back and was conflicted by the desire to have him, hard, fast the way she knew he wanted and the warm, cherished feeling his tenderness gave her.

  She closed her eyes and melted into him, giving him everything, all of her, holding back nothing even as he did.

  “I love you.”

  The words fell from her lips, soft, from an aching throat, throbbing from tears unshed.

  He tensed around her. He paused and held her long, tight. His body shuddered against her. She could feel his inner turmoil. His very real fight.

  Then he began thrusting, deep, intense. He seemed to curl around every inch of her. Her pussy throbbed as her senses came alive, tightened unbearably as her orgasm mounted.

  He slid his hands underneath her ass, cupping her cheeks with his big hands. He cradled her, holding her open to his invasion. Such a sweet invasion.

  She moved her legs higher. Clutched him with her hands. Her eyes closed, opened and closed again.

  “Don’t stop. Please,” she gasped as the room blurred around her.

  “No, sugar, I won’t.”

  She clenched
her teeth together then sucked her lip between them in an effort to staunch her cry. Her body arched almost painfully into him and then something within her popped, setting her free.

  She flew. Knew what it was like to have wings in that precious moment. When she reached as high as she could fly, her body fell back to earth, floating, spiraling downward in a gentle cessation.

  “I love you,” she whispered again.

  Her eyes fluttered, and she dimly registered him closing around her, his body weighing on hers, his faint but steady heartbeat against her ribcage. He said something, but she was too far gone to hear what it was.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Seth stared down at Jasmine’s sleeping form with a mixture of tenderness, self-loathing and ultimate satisfaction. He felt pulled in twenty different directions, none of which would get him anywhere.

  He shouldn’t be here, but the selfish part of him didn’t give a shit. He wanted her. More than he should, but there it was. His guilt wasn’t going to change that fact. Even as he knew he needed to get out of her bed, he leaned down to brush his lips across her temple.

  She sighed softly and stirred as he brushed away tendrils of her hair. He stroked her soft skin and traced tiny paths in her hair.

  Warm, soft, oh-so-feminine. She was in a word, perfect. But she wasn’t his, would never be solely his, and he knew deep down that he couldn’t accept that, could he?

  Carefully, so as not to wake her, he eased away from her. He got up and walked around the bed to retrieve his clothing. His gaze was fixed on her as he pulled on his jeans.

  She looked so young and innocent curled up in sleep. Her dark hair framed a delicate face. Her sweet curves beckoned to him. He was tempted to crawl back into bed with her and cradle her close, mold her softness to his and enjoy the feel of her against his skin.

  But he didn’t belong there. Zane did.

  He winced as he thought of his brother and of the betrayal he’d just handed him. If Zane loved her, and he was obviously sleeping with her, Seth should never have gone back down that path. But he hadn’t thought past his own burning need to make Jasmine his, if only for a short time.

  His chest heavy, he turned and walked out of Jasmine’s bedroom. When he hit the bottom of the stairs, he was met by Carmen. Her brow was creased with concern, and her eyes were questioning.

  “How is Jasmine?” she asked, her accent heavier than normal.

  “She’s sleeping,” Seth said. “You should go up and check on her in a little while. Wake her periodically. I don’t know how hard she hit her head.”

  Carmen nodded. “And you, Seth? Are you okay as well?”

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what was going on. “I’m fine, Carmen.”

  Her gaze softened, and she reached forward to enfold him in a hug. “All will be well. You’ll see. You must follow your heart, eh? It knows the way of things.”

  He pulled away and smiled half-heartedly. “I’ll be in the study if Jasmine needs anything.”

  Carmen nodded and headed up the stairs, no doubt to check in on Jasmine now. She was very much Carmen’s baby. Seth trudged into the study and flipped on the light.

  As he walked to the desk, he noticed several sheets of paper lying in the tray of the fax machine. He frowned. He didn’t remember expecting a fax from anyone.

  He picked up the pages and sat down behind the desk. As he flipped through them, his frown deepened. It was a contract. An agreement for Jasmine to sign giving Wildscapes rights to print her photos. Why hadn’t he heard anything of this? He would have thought she’d be excited. She damn near didn’t go anywhere without that camera.

  When he read the last page, a letter to Jasmine, he stiffened. It was a request for her to reconsider taking a position that apparently she’d already turned down.

  He let the papers drop to the desk as he stared at the opposing wall. Why had