He cradled the back of her head and crushed his mouth to hers. But it wasn’t enough.
He needed to put his hands on her.
Grabbing her by the waist, he swung her around and perched her on the edge of the desk. With frantic hands, he grappled with her camisole, trying like hell to push it up or pull it down. The result was a muffled ripping sound and the fragile fabric drooped around her waist.
He couldn’t be trusted. Not with how damn badly he wanted her.
She’s a piece of delicate china. You’re a fucking bull.
He started to pull back, but she wrapped her legs around him and drew him closer. “It’s fine,” she breathed. “Old underwear.”
He doubted that, but he was already too far gone to care. And when he had the soft weight of her breasts cradled in his hands, he forgot all about her clothes.
It was like holding heaven in his palms. Soft and warm. He wanted to savor the sensation.
But Tessa apparently had other ideas, because her fingers were at his waistband and she quickly unbuttoned his fly.
Fast. This was all happening so fast. Fast was bad.
Wild and uncontrollable.
Dangerous for Tessa.
He released his hold on her to catch her hands, but she shoved him away and worked his jeans off his hips, enough so she could shove down his boxer briefs.
The relief from having his erection freed sent another wave of lust over him, making his legs shake. And when she took him in hand, her grip warm and firm, he stumbled and braced his hands on the edge of the desk to stay upright.
She worked him, stroking up and down with the perfect pressure, while he buried his face against her neck. “That feels…”
“…amazing.” she said, using her thumb to do something wicked and wonderful, making him even harder.
If she didn’t let go, stop pumping him, he was going to come in her hand. He could feel it, the tightness in his belly, the tension on the inside of his thighs.
Something this good, this rare, should last. Intellectually he knew that, but his dick had other ideas.
He grabbed the hem of Tessa’s skirt to yank it up. She wriggled against him and he somehow hooked her panties and slid them down. He blindly groped for his wallet and found the single condom inside. He carelessly tossed the wallet and ripped at the package.
“Let me—”
He just shook his head and roughly covered himself, not giving a damn how painfully pleasurable it was.
Now. Right the fuck now.
“Are you ready?” he ground out.
“So ready.”
With impatient hands, he pushed at Tessa’s knees, opening her legs wide. Then he yanked her to the edge of the desk and pressed inside her.
Oh, fuck.
The feel of her slick body, the tight heat, was almost more than he could bear. It was like the world had coalesced into that perfect spot between her legs.
Dots of color flashed behind his eyes.
“Don’t…don’t stop.” The kiss she smoothed across his collarbone pulled him under a wave of tenderness and possessiveness.
His breath was chuffing in and out of his lungs, but he could barely hear it for the blood rushing in his ears. With rough hands, he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer.
Then he leaned over her and drove in. Again and again and again.
Tessa made little noises in the back of her throat. Sounds that made his hips pump harder. Faster.
Until all that existed was the slide of skin on skin. Damp with lust and something else he wouldn’t allow himself to name.
“Jonah,” she breathed.
For some reason, hearing her say his name as if he was everything she’d ever wanted pushed the final button for him. He reached between their bodies to finger her clitoris in tight little circles. Her groan was low and lusty, and her muscles began to ripple around him.
That’s when he completely lost his fucking mind. He pounded into her as the orgasm rushed over her. And when he felt her body begin to melt into his, he fucked her even harder.
The whole world narrowed down to his body touching Tessa’s. She was everything good. Everything right. Everything—
His own orgasm slammed into him, coming from every nerve ending, every muscle, until his jaw clenched and his body stilled, buried deep inside Tessa’s.
As he began to descend, all those nerves and muscles began to shake. Almost a shiver, like he’d suddenly been hit with a case of untreatable flu.
Because what he’d just done was…was wrong.
His breathing hitched as hyperventilation snuck up on him. What had he just done? This was Tessa. Sweet, smart, serious Tessa.
Damaged Tessa.
He jerked away, pulling out of the haven of her body without thinking of the condom. He reached for it, but the damage was already done.
With horror, he stared down at her, palms braced against the desk, camisole covering one breast, the other exposed, her breathing making them rise and fall. Her skirt was bunched around her waist and her legs were spread wide, her inner thighs wet with…
In Jonah’s mind, in his memory, all he could see was blood.
2
Asheville, North Carolina
One Year Ago
It was November, and Jonah was sweating his ass off. But that was what standing on the porch of Tessa’s parents’ stone-and-timber home got him. A big ol’ pool of flop sweat.
Because he hadn’t seen her since the day he’d walked out of Steele Trap for the last time.
Trying to cool the hell off, he turned back his shirt cuffs, which revealed the tats on his forearms. An intricate triforce on one and a chrono trigger on the other, both done in black and jewel tones. Seeing as his own mom had cried a little when she’d seen them, it probably wasn’t the best idea to leave them uncovered now.
Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Martin.
I’m Jonah Steele.
I’m the dickhead who once abandoned your daughter on this very porch.
Oh, and then years later, I screwed her on my office desk. And I now need her help to get my tattooed ass out of a sling.
Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.
He rolled down his sleeves and rang the bell.
“Hello?” The woman who answered the door stunned him. Although her skin was several shades lighter than Tessa’s, she had the same dark eyes and welcoming smile. This was what Tessa would look like twenty or thirty years from now.
And Jonah would still want her twenty or thirty years from now.
“I’m…ah…you’re…” Jesus, when had he developed a stutter? He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jonah, and I’m here to see Tessa. Is she around?”
He’d initially tried to call her in Seattle, but he’d been told she was away for Thanksgiving. So he’d taken the chance that she was here with her family.
“She’s in the kitchen, helping me with a turkey casserole. Would you like to come in? I could get you a hot drink.”
He wasn’t sure he deserved to be invited inside their home, so he just said, “This will only take a minute if she’s willing to come outside.”
Mrs. Martin’s smile wavered.
“We used to work together.”
It must’ve all connected for her, because her pretty eyes widened. But she recovered quickly and said, “I’ll get her.”
Jonah turned to stare out at the scenery—trees losing the very last of their leaves, their piles heaped in yards and filling the ditches. The natural death of late fall, which normally depressed the hell out of him.
But this year was different. This was the year Micki had come home, and he’d be damned if she’d leave again.
But Tessa was the only one who could guarantee Micki could stay.
“Jonah? This is a surprise.”
He whirled around to find her wearing an honest-to-goodness apron—with a white bib and ruffles along the skirt—over a black outfit. But in his mind, he pictured her naked, hip cocked in invitation and feather duster at the re
ady.
Dude, stay away from the sexy maid fantasies.
He definitely didn’t have any right to those thoughts, not after what he’d done to her. After he’d deliberately kept his distance. After he’d sold his company to get the hell away from her.
“You look”—Kissable? Edible?—“good.”
But she didn’t smile at him the way her mother had. In fact, her eyes were guarded. “What are you doing here?”
“I need you.”
The caution on her face switched to surprise faster than he could ping a server.
“I mean, I need your help. It’s about my sister Micki, and it’s serious.”
“Okay…” She shoved her hands into her apron pockets, but he could easily see they were fisted.
He’d apologized, after that night in his office. But even he knew that he’d fucked things up even more. That was when he’d realized it was best for him to stay far away from Tessa. He couldn’t seem to be around her without letting her down. Worse yet, hurting her.
And that was the dead last thing he wanted.
“Do you remember how I once told you I hadn’t seen her for years?”
“Of course I do.” Her tone made it clear she forgot nothing.
“Well, she’s back in North Carolina, but there’s a problem.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t do individual counseling, if that’s what she’s looking for.”
He considered that for a second. Micki probably could benefit from someone rooting around in that complicated brain of hers, but if he told her that, she’d tell him to go get his own damn head examined.
Not something he was fired up to do, especially if Tessa was the examiner.
“No, she needs you to talk with the State’s Attorney and the Asheville DA.” God, he was screwing this all up. No please. No thank you. Just wham ba—
Nope, not goin’ there.
He paced along the length of the porch while Tessa watched him from her spot near the front door. “It’s a long story. None of us knew it until recently, but Micki’s craphat of a boss has been blackmailing her all this time.”
“Why would he do something like that?”
Jonah squeezed his eyes closed for a few seconds. He didn’t want to stir up bad memories for Tessa, but he needed her to understand. He opened his eyes and pointed to the stone porch steps. “Would you… Could we sit down for a minute?”
Her nod had a jerky quality about it, but she moved away from the door and settled on the top step. Blowing out a silent breath, he did the same, keeping a good two feet between them. But that wasn’t enough to keep her cool scent from reaching him. He drew it in until his lungs couldn’t take another molecule.
Sweetly scented torture.
“Tessa, this isn’t easy. It’s about that night. Harrison Shaw’s party in Asheville.”
“The night I was raped.”
The word hit him like a cinderblock to the head. To the heart. It was raw and ugly, just like the shitheads who’d drugged her and… “How can you be so casual about it?” he demanded.
That seemed to spark something in her eyes, and they went hot. “I am not casual about it. But it happened. It’s a part of my past. It’s a part of who I am. I spent plenty of years stonewalling my way through sessions with therapists before I realized the person I was hurting most was myself. So, yes, I’m able to say it. To name it. To face it.”
It wasn’t something he wanted to face. Ever.
But Micki needed him. After all these years she was allowing her family—allowing him, even after the part he’d played in all this—to help her, and he had to secure this final piece for her to have the life she deserved. “There was video footage.”
At that, Tessa froze and slowly turned her head toward him. “What?”
“God, no. Not that. Apparently the Shaws had some type of in-house camera security. Micki’s boss, Phil Flynn, was the one who—”
“Is he slick—expensive clothes and gelled hair? Works out of Las Vegas?”
“How did you know?”
“Because he came here, after. Threatened my parents that he’d drag me through the mud if I went to the police. I was…fragile…for a while. They weren’t even sure I’d hold up on the stand if we did file charges. Mom and Dad decided it was in my best interests to let it go.”
Which was only one of the reasons Jonah had collected his own form of damages. Had demanded restitution for Tessa.
“I can see what you’re thinking,” she said. “That we shouldn’t have let them get away with it. Believe me, I would never suggest it to a sexual assault victim. But at the time, my parents were doing the best they could.”
Because they’d caved, Phil had been able to manipulate Micki for years, threatening to wrap a hangman’s noose around Jonah’s neck if she didn’t work for him. Lie and deceive for him. “Haven’t you thought about—”
“Have you heard how Harrison Shaw’s life has turned out?”
Yeah, he knew a thing or two about that fucker and the four others who’d used Tessa. After that night, Jonah had made it his business to find out their names, their social security numbers, and everything else he could dig up on Charlie Cartwright, Matthew Levine, Andy Bledsoe, and Brandon Johnson. But in answer to Tessa’s question, he just lifted a shoulder. “I haven’t exactly added him to my LinkedIn network.”
“He was a spoiled teenager, and as an adult, he’s pretty much self-destructed. DUIs. Drug possession. For a while his dad kept him out of real trouble, but a few years ago he washed his hands, let Harrison finally take the rap for drug trafficking.”
At least she didn’t know about the incident—if “stealing” a hundred grand from his parents could be called an incident—that had started Shaw’s downhill slide into most of that shit.
If she thought the guy had paid enough for his sins, she was sorely mistaken, but it wasn’t a conversation Jonah and Tessa would have. So he took a breath and said, “Apparently, after that party, the Shaws gave Phil Flynn security footage from inside their house. I was caught on camera when I left you to get help. Between that and the DNA under your fingernails, Phil convinced Micki he could pin me with…with…”
“Jonah, say the word.”
He swallowed, but it felt as though he had a medicine ball stuck in there. “He made her believe I could be charged with your rape and that conviction was a slam dunk.”
Because in the state of North Carolina, there was no statute of limitations on rape.
“And you want me to—”
“I know I shouldn’t ask, but if you’d be willing to tell the DA and State’s Attorney that I didn’t…didn’t…” Hell, for the past two years, he’d felt as if he’d attacked her that night in his office. Unable to sit beside her for another second without touching her, without wrapping his arms around her and probably scaring the crap out of her in the process, he jumped up and pulled a business card from his jeans. “This is my attorney’s card. You don’t have to say yes or no right now, but if you could call him by the end of the day with an answer, I’d appreciate it. Then I promise never to bother you again.”
Because with the turmoil and need inside him, that was the way it had to be. He couldn’t see Tessa without wanting her. And he couldn’t have her without hurting her.
And no man—him included—would ever hurt this woman again.
With a control he didn’t feel, he placed the business card near her right hand on the step. Although his hand shook with the need to touch her, just a brush of his fingers over her shoulder, he drew back.
“Good-bye, Tessa.”
He turned away and walked back to his car. This time, he would stay out of Tessa’s life for good.
If she had a hundred years on this earth, Tessa might never figure out Jonah Steele.
Brilliant, broody, and possibly broken.
Something told her she had played a part in his brokenness.
On his way to his car, he didn’t look back once, just focused on that Tesla as i
f it were a transporter beaming him up. His shaggy brown hair gleamed in the sun and his jeans hugged his long legs. He was built like a swimmer—lean, but with the perfect amount of bulk to propel him through any obstacle in his path.
He was so good at bringing people together—to make games, to save his hometown, to create things bigger than just himself—but somehow, he seemed so alone.
Once again he was walking away from her, leaving only a hint of his leather and cedar scent behind. Just as he’d walked away the day he sold Steele Trap.
After the night she and Jonah had sex in his office, he’d been more distant than ever. His employees had picked up on that, some of them no longer attending sessions with her. When Jonah sold Steele Trap, the new owner wanted her to stay on for the transition, so she had.
But maybe now it was time to make a change in her life.
“Honey, why was Jonah Steele here?”
Tessa glanced back at her mother, who was watching Jonah’s car zoom down the winding driveway. “How did you know who he was?”
“I recognized him from the cover of Fast Company.”
He’d been on that magazine at the age of twenty-four, and Tessa had a copy of it stored in an archival box. She’d kept a clipping of every mention of him she’d ever come across. Business section articles, gaming magazine features, society pages.
Needless to say, her box was full.
And maybe that said it all. She had a box full of trivia about the man, but she didn’t have the man himself.
“It doesn’t look like his visit made you happy.”
“He asked me to call his attorney.”
“What?”
“Do you remember Phil Flynn?”
Her mom’s pretty face went rigid, emphasizing the fine lines around her mouth and eyes. “He isn’t a man I will ever forget.”
“I had no idea, but apparently Jonah’s sister has been working for him for years.”
That seemed to take the starch out of her mom’s spine because she dropped onto the step beside Tessa. “Why? I thought the Steeles were good people.”
“He needs my help because he and his sister are being threatened by Flynn with video footage from the Shaw’s house that night.”
Stripping Bare (Steele Ridge Book 7) Page 2