Jesucristo.
Had anyone trusted him that much before?
Your men trusted you with their lives and they’re dead because of it. Is that what you want for Sara?
The unexpected accusation caused Jacob’s breath to stutter out again.
Why had he thought that he could keep his memories at bay? Of course, they’d flood him. He’d been thinking about love.
As he walked along beside her into the sand dunes, gratitude filled him that he’d had the forethought to blindfold her. One look in his eyes and she’d see the terror coursing through him.
That terror increased a thousand-fold as high above them, light exploded in the sky.
His heart stopped.
Jacob pushed Sara to the ground and dove on top of her to protect her from the shards that were sure to be flying from the bomb that had just detonated. Before he could check her out for injuries, pops of gunfire rained down on them.
He shielded Sara as much as he could, but her stillness had him lifting up slightly to assess the damage.
Had she been hit?
She wasn’t moving.
She wasn’t speaking.
She wasn’t…
Oh, fuck.
Oh, no.
NO!
“Sara. Sara, please…” He pushed up the blindfold covering half of her face with trembling hands, still making sure he kept her body covered with his.
Her eyes held an ocean of grief as unshed tears filled their depths.
“Were you hit? Are you hurt?” If she wasn’t, why would she be crying?
Another boom sounded above them, and he risked further injury to drag them deeper into the sand dunes before it registered she hadn’t answered.
What would he do if she’d been hurt? What would—?
“Jacob, hey, HEY!” Sara’s hands, her wonderfully alive hands, cupped his face. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”
No, they weren’t. She was crying, dammit! That meant… it had to mean…
Her voice rose above his fear, “They’re fireworks, Jacob. Just fireworks. Listen. You’ll hear it. People are applauding them, not screaming, honey. Everyone’s safe. We’re safe.”
Fireworks.
Jacob tried to give credence to her words, but his heart still pounded in his chest.
He’d been thinking about his men and then the world had gone to shit around him.
Sara stroked his back, lending him her strength. Like the selfish bastard that he was, he took it. When a series of three fireworks went off above them, he flinched, but he managed to focus on her. How could he not? She held him captive as she always did.
With the lightest of touches, she traced the track of a single tear on his cheek until she met where it hung suspended from his chin. He hadn’t even known he was crying. But, of course, she’d seen. She somehow saw all of him. Even the parts he kept hidden. Just like Mama Bea.
Jacob rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I ruined our evening.”
“Stop it! You did no such thing. It doesn’t matter what you had planned. If we need to leave, we can. I don’t need romance, I need you. Trust me, cariño.” Her whispered words spoke of the vow he’d made moments before in their hotel suite. To seal it, she kissed his face, speaking in between brushes of her lips against his skin. “If you trust me… I promise… I'll make it worth it.”
Jesucristo, didn’t she know she already had?
Jacob stood, crushing her to his chest like the lifeline she was. Hold it together, cabrón. But, how could he? There’d been no judgment, nothing but acceptance and… love?
His heart raced again, but for a far different reason despite the continued celebration in the night sky. She hadn’t questioned him for answers he couldn’t give. She wouldn’t—that wasn’t her way—and somehow that fact alone calmed him. He stopped thinking and simply held her.
At the next break in the fireworks, she pulled away. Before he could question her motives, she did what she did best. “So… about this tying up thing. Is it two-sided? Because there are things I’d like to do to your body, you know, just to try. Bad, bad things. Well, not too bad, but I’d love to have my way with you.” As always, her voice took on the cute lilting quality it achieved when she rambled. “Actually, though, have you ever been tempted to find out what a vibrator does for you? Because I’d totally be willing to wear a strap-on if you were inter—”
“Do you have any idea how perfect you are?” Without waiting for her response, he threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and ran toward their cabana. He wanted her. Alone.
Two feet away from their destination, several sharp spanks on his backside halted him, and unbelievably amazed laughter overtook him. Laughter. After everything that had happened, and in spite of the loud bursts of sound still going on around them, he actually fucking laughed.
Before her feet touched the ground, he kissed her with all the emotion she brought out in him until they were both breathless. He released her to part the curtain in front of them and her expression almost brought him to his knees again. “Do you like it?”
“Oh, Jacob. This is wonderful.”
The tied-back doorway on the opposite side revealed an empty stretch of sand and white foam as the water crashed wave after wave. He closed the barrier behind them and followed her to one of the few pieces of furniture, unwilling to stray far from her side. In front of a cushioned settee, an assortment of fruit, vegetables, egg salad, and fried chicken piled high on the table. Just as he’d pictured her doing, she dove at the food, only resurfacing once she had a drumstick in her hand.
Pure joy crossed her face at her first bite, and right then, he knew without any doubt.
He loved her.
After what had happened outside, the thought no longer scared him enough to bring on a flashback. It still terrified him because of its significance, but he didn’t fight for his breath. She’d seen who he was and she’d accepted him. The woman didn’t have any pretenses. She was sweet, funny, intoxicatingly sexy, and the most compassionate person he'd been blessed to meet.
As much as the food tempted him, his gaze lingered on the giant bed off to the left. He wanted her there, under him. He wanted to show her how he felt the only way he knew how.
But he wanted to take care of her more, and by the look of her plate, she needed to eat. Portions large enough to satisfy Nic disappeared expertly between her lips between moans of approval.
She didn’t talk for a full ten minutes until he swiped a piece of fruit from her plate. “Touch my food again and I'll stab you with my fork.”
The utensil dangled threateningly above his hand denying him the opportunity to bring it to his mouth. “My sincerest apologies.”
“Humph. Anyone ever tell you apologies can’t be sincere if delivered with clothes on?” Her look held his in challenge.
What did she think, that he’d turn her down? Not likely. “Is that so? Well in that case…” One handed, he unbuttoned the top half of his shirt, exposing his throat and the middle of his chest. “I’m sorry I took food from your plate when you’re so clearly starving.”
“Better. But I’m not sure I believe it yet.” She leaned forward to part his shirt wider with her fork. “You might need to work harder.”
“Would you like it back?” He held the piece of pineapple he’d swiped under her nose, but when she dropped her head to bite it from his fingers, he released it into her cleavage. “Damn. So sorry.” Her breasts rose to meet his mouth as he dipped his tongue between them to lick the fruit. “Sweet. Just like you.” At the light touch of her fingers on the back of his head, prodding him closer, he pulled away to rest against the cushion again.
Her breasts did a delightful jiggle at her huffed out breath. “You aren’t going to leave it there, are you?”
“I thought I wasn’t allowed to eat from your plate.”
She crossed her arms, slipping the tank top’s straps from her shoulders, much as he’d hoped. “From what I can tell.” Her
hands cupped her generous mounds. “These are my breasts. Not dinnerware.”
“How right you are.” He dove at her like she'd done to the food, laughter accompanying his attack as he retrieved the pineapple. But he didn’t stay to feast on her, instead choosing to draw out the evening with teases, and the rest of the meal continued the same. He stripped in small increments while disrobing her and eating from the newly exposed body part along the way.
They ate until all that remained was one lone grape and no clothes between them. He grabbed the grape before she could, rolling it between his fingers. “Give me your foot.”
“No. Uh-uh. It’s been an hour since my shower.”
“Give me your foot.”
“I’m wearing flip-flops.”
“Sara.”
“Flip-flops.”
“Do you want me to spank you?”
As if she were made for him, she stretched over his lap, wiggling her ass in the air.
He asked, “Now what am I going to do with this grape?”
“Oh, good God, Jacob. You wouldn’t dare.”
He rolled the fruit over the curve of her ass, clamping an arm across her back to stay her squirming. “Remember I first asked for your foot.”
“Yes! My foot!”
He moved just in time to avoid getting kicked in the face as she flipped over and raised her leg to his mouth. “Are you sure?” he asked.
To test her, he trailed the grape from her knee to her ankle. She twitched, but didn’t move away when he deposited it between two of her toes. “Good. Because mark my words, before I’m done tonight, there won’t be any part of your body that I haven’t eaten.” To prove his point, he devoured her foot the way she had the food, stopping only when she begged for more to carry her to the bed. He laid on his side next to her, pulling her back against his front so her ass cradled his cock. “I—” Love you. Fear closed around his heart again—less intense, but enough still to keep him from finishing the sentence aloud.
He couldn’t actually tell her. Not yet. Not so soon after his freak out. And not until he was sure that he could take care of her. He had money, but what did he know of love? What if he hurt her?
Jacob rested his forehead against the soft cushion of her hair. Get over yourself, amigo. She didn’t need him to protect her. They weren’t in the middle of a war zone, and she could damn well take care of herself. She’d been doing it fine without him for twenty-six years. He didn’t have to be her hero—just her boyfriend.
Still though… “I've never wanted any woman the way I want you.” Those weren’t the words of his heart, but they were no less true.
She turned her head so that he saw the outline of her mouth, and whispered, “Then show me.”
Now that, he could do. And would do. As many times as she needed.
Jacob propped himself up on an elbow to see more of her and slid into her pussy. Immediately, she clenched around his cock, milking him while he watched the wonders of her body. He trailed his hand over the curve of her hip, then began to stroke her clit. The feel of her, soft and wet around him, while she undulated next to him, was almost his undoing.
Just like always with her, her body sucked him in again and again, her smooth folds taking him in regardless of how he entered. Heavy pounding, or slow and steady like now, she met him stroke for stroke, following his pace, giving him everything he couldn’t bring himself to ask for.
He kissed her with all the fervor of a dying man, hungry to drain every last drop of pleasure before it disappeared.
And still she let him. Matched him. Came back for more until her orgasm gripped her.
As her muscles tightened around him, his own orgasm ripped through him, stripping him bare. All the defenses he’d spent years building lay in tatters at her feet while his hips pumped until there was nothing left of him to give.
For one blissful second, his life righted.
Her shriek brought him crashing back to reality.
She scooted away, hyperventilating, her wild eyes, confusing him until he followed the focus of her gaze. Something close to horror closed around his heart at the sight of his spent cock—his naked cum and vaginal fluid soaked cock.
Hijo de puta. Jacob’s mouth worked, but no sound came out.
“I-I’ve never—” Sara gulped past an obvious lump in her throat that made her sound like she’d sucked in helium. “—had unprotected sex. With anyone. Not ever.”
Neither had he.
Except for that one time.
The time that had almost ruined his life.
And now he might have actually ruined Sara’s.
Jacob lay there stunned. How had he let this happen?
A quick glance at Sara’s terror-stricken face brought his own horror to a manageable level. In fact, surprisingly, his fear hadn’t been for himself at all. The only thing he’d cared about from the second he realized what had happened was taking care of her like she’d taken care of him.
With complete confidence, Jacob said words he never thought he’d utter, “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with this together.” He may not want children, but he’d never allow Sara to handle the situation alone. Not as long as there was still breath in his body.
“Wait. Whatever happens?” Sara stopped wrapping herself up in the sheet, seeming to finally realize what her actions had made him believe. “Jacob, you misunderstood my freak out. I’ve been on the pill since I was sixteen. It’s just… we… we’ve just started this, and I…”
Wanted to know where they stood.
She didn’t have to say it. He knew. He knew because he felt the same way too.
For so long, he’d fought the bond building between them. He didn’t want to fight anymore.
I love you. Jacob ached to say those words even while he recognized he couldn’t now any more than he could’ve a few moments ago. The reasons were as different as night and day, but both had been valid. His reason now even more so. He didn’t want the first time he said it to be in response to them having unprotected sex. He wanted her to look in his eyes and know he meant it, not doubt that he’d only said it as a means of pacifying her.
Instead, he held her in his arms and told her he’d stay with her for as long as she’d let him.
But tomorrow, though, tomorrow she’d know exactly how he felt.
35
Sara stretched in bed the next morning, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting man next to her the second her eyes opened.
Her smile vanished when she turned to Jacob’s side of the bed and found him already gone. It quickly returned as soon as she saw the note under her phone.
He’d left earlier than she’d expected for his meeting, which meant the before-work-sexy-time she’d had planned for him would need to change into an after-work-pick-me-up-time. Lunch with her in a short skirt and no panties seemed like a good option since the man went crazy at even the mention of a woman going commando.
She did so love to make the vein above his eye bulge. Her grin broadened. She was beginning to think she loved everything about Jacob.
She traced his words, still holding the paper. If they married, the thank you cards would be his responsibility. His elegant handwriting made her scrawl look like a two-year-old’s.
Sara dropped the note as if it’d burned her.
Married?
Come on, sunshine. Don’t turn into a coward again on me now.
That was easier said than done considering her heart clogged her throat as if it wanted to choke her.
Needing the lightheartedness of her sisters instead of her omniscient brother-in-law, Sara took a picture of the suite and sent it to Sage. It wouldn’t take long before her sister responded to such decadence.
Instead of waiting, Sara tossed her phone aside and went to the closet where she’d hung her clothes. The semi-sheer purple sundress she’d brought would deepen the natural highlights in her hair and it was short enough she could raise it to indecent levels and give Jacob a flash if he turned too serious on
her at any point during their lunch.
Satisfied with her choice, Sara went into the bathroom to finish getting ready. Instead of rushing, she took care with her appearance, comforted by the ritual of applying makeup. Thankfully, Jacob wasn’t due back for a few hours still. She needed a chance to right her equilibrium since every encounter with him rattled her senses, shaking her off balance. She’d been thinking about marriage a few minutes ago for God’s sake, and that just seconds after she’d realized she love him. Dear baby Jesus, loving him was an insanity all on its own. Did he love her too? Could he love her? He’d never spoken of a long-time girlfriend other than the one who’d screwed him over. At thirty-three, shouldn’t he have had those experiences by now?
Why? You’re twenty-six and can you say you’ve ever really loved anyone?
Sara sighed at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Christopher knew damn well she had her reasons.
But his point was valid. Jacob had his reasons too. If she’d fallen for him, it was at least feasible that he could fall for her.
With a skill that would have made Sage proud, Sara applied mascara, then opted to dust blush on her cheeks.
His episode last night had almost made him run from her. Again. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d removed the blindfold. But he’d stayed. For her. Because of her. Because she’d asked him to trust her.
It’d been on the tip of her tongue to say those three words then, but something had stopped her. She still didn’t know if it’d been her fear she’d felt, or his.
In the end, though, did it matter?
Her ringing cell phone interrupted questions she didn’t have answers to.
She ran to the bedroom, catching the call before it went to voicemail.
“I HOPE I’M INTERFERING WITH AN INSANELY HOT PASSIONATE MOMENT!”
Sara held the phone away from her ear and plopped onto a chair at the small seating area. “Is loud the only volume you know?”
Sage replied with a giggle in her voice, “When I’m annoying my younger sister? Yep. Now tell me I just caught you with his dick in your mouth.”
“Yeah right.” Sara cradled the phone against her cheek. “Trust me, if his dick was in my mouth, I wouldn’t have even thought to pick up the phone, and I certainly wouldn’t have been able to talk around a cock as big as his.”
Morrow's Horizon (The Morrow Women Series Book 1) Page 27