And then a thought strikes me.
“Was she ever here? Just in the other room when I came over or something?”
He gives me an odd look. “Um, no. How quiet do you think a two-year-old is?” I shrug self-consciously, and he gestures to the toys. “I just didn’t want you to see all her stuff. Kind of difficult décor to explain, you know?”
“Is this why you took off so fast the day I met you? Did you have to go get Maya?”
He nods. “She choked on a grape. Ben called me, freaking out because her lips were starting to turn purple. I didn’t even think to explain to you what happened, I just took off barefoot.” His jaw flexes. “I told Ben to call 911 and I knew there was no way I could ride my bike back before they got there, but I had to get to her. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
“Of course you were.” I hug my arms over my chest, shivering just to think of it. “She must have been okay, though, right? Did she go to the hospital?”
“Ben tried the Heimlich. He was afraid he’d break her ribs or something, but it worked. By the time I showed up, she was fine and showing her Barbies to the paramedics.” He blows out a breath, rolling his eyes. “I even made it to class on time.”
“I just—she’s so much younger than you.” As soon as it’s out, I feel like a jerk. “I mean, at first I thought you must have a daughter because the age difference between Ben and this”—I gesture to the toddler bed—“is kinda major.”
“Maya was a miracle baby, an accident. Mom had my older sister, Hayden, when she was only seventeen, and she was thirty-eight when she got pregnant with Maya. Dad had a vasectomy years ago, but apparently there’s about a one percent chance of pregnancy after that, and Maya was the one percent.”
He puts his hands in his pockets.
“It was really hard for them to go back to diapers and being up all night, but they adored her, you know? They were figuring it out. When they crashed their car, they were out on a date night and Hayden was babysitting, or Maya probably would have been with them.” His jaw muscle clenches.
I shake my head, no idea what to say to a story like his. I’ve been venting to him about record labels and creative freedom as if those were the worst problems a person could have, and this entire time, he’s been responsible for an entire human being?
“After they got in the accident, none of us were ready to have kids, but we couldn’t let Maya go into foster care or anything. Hayden was married, had a steady job, and she was the oldest. She said she’d take Maya, but her husband’s kind of flaky and not much help. Hayden, well, she tries so hard to be perfect for Maya that sometimes she wears herself out. She can’t do it full-time.”
I glance away. I was such a mess after Granna died. If someone would have given me a toddler, I don’t know what I would have done, but it might have looked a lot like Hayden. I don’t want to be the kind of person Jacob would need to sweep in and rescue, except in a situation like that...I mean, how do you learn to be a parent on the spot?
“Anyway, that’s how we all ended up sharing custody,” Jacob says when the silence starts to stretch too long. “I had two or three practices a day for baseball and I couldn’t do that and keep up with Maya, which helped me make the final decision to quit the team. Working so hard to throw a ball perfectly, after everything that had happened, seemed stupid.” He blushes. “Plus, I couldn’t exactly say it to the guys, but I was enjoying my time with her more than the hours I spent at practice.”
“Do you have a picture of her?” I need to see her, so she feels like a person and not a situation I have no idea how I’m supposed to deal with. I stare at the purple beanbag chair, and Jacob stares at me. I don’t dare turn my head, because I can’t process my own emotions, much less his.
“Uh, yeah. Of course.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket, scrolls through a couple of pictures of us together, then one of me lying back on the couch and sticking my tongue out at him, my hair all messy from making out when we were supposed to be doing homework. The next picture is of a tiny blond girl, blank-faced with wide eyes like she wasn’t ready for the picture to be snapped. That picture was right next to mine in his phone the entire time. If I’d looked, the secret would have been out with one swipe of a thumb.
He keeps going until he gets to a series taken at a beach. “Here are some good ones.”
I take the phone. Her hair is curly and barely shoulder-length, a blond lighter than Ben’s. In the first shot, Jacob’s sitting on the beach with Maya between his knees as they work on building an unimpressive blob of sand. They’re adorable together, because of course they are. There’s nothing he can’t do: fix a car, build a rocket, be a de-facto father and a boyfriend so perfect I don’t know how he ended up with someone like me.
“It was supposed to be a sand igloo,” he says as I flick to the next shot. In this one, she’s running away with a stick that’s too big for her, the end trailing onto the ground. In the third, he’s caught the other end of the stick and she’s shrieking with laughter, looking back at Jacob as he takes the picture. She has his eyes.
I try to wet my lips with an utterly dry tongue, and then look up at him. When I speak, I have to say the right thing. To show I can handle this and I’m worthy of the faith he’s putting in me.
His brown eyes are narrowed in pain, his jaw clenched. “I always meant to tell you. But then it was so hard to get you to take a chance just on me, and you seemed overwhelmed at the idea of me having to be responsible for Ben, even though he’s technically an adult.” He straightens. “When you finally gave me a chance, I could feel how tentative it was, how...” He rakes a hand back through his hair. “Hell, Jera, every time we fool around, I feel like if I have the wrong reaction to a single thing, you’ll take off. So then I stopped waiting for openings to tell you, and started to lie.” He looks as sick as I feel, and my gaze drops back to that little velvet beanbag chair. “Maya’s lost so much, and I knew if she met you, she’d adore you. I couldn’t risk you disappearing after that, so I decided I’d tell you when I thought you were ready to get serious with me.” He huffs out a breath. “But you’re not, and I can’t wait anymore.”
I take a step back. “What?” He might as well be reaching into my body and wringing my guts out right now, and he thinks this doesn’t mean anything to me? He’s told me everything about the adorable little sister he took on without batting an eye, and he hasn’t told me a single thing about what that means for us. “You think I’m not serious about you?”
He drops his hands to his sides with a slap. “You’re not, Jera. You won’t introduce me to your parents, it took you weeks to even tell Danny we were dating, for God’s sake. I’ve been trying to give you all the time you need to get used to the idea that I care about you, and I’m not going anywhere but it doesn’t seem to be helping. You don’t have to meet Maya if you’re not ready. I just can’t keep lying to you, Jera.” He shakes his head. “I hate it.”
I reach for him, and he holds so still, like he has no idea what I might do. I cup his face in my hands, the slight prickle of his stubble rough against my palms. “You’re incredible,” I whisper, and as soon as I touch him, tears jump to my eyes. “I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve done, and everything you are.”
His shoulders drop, like invisible strings were holding him up and they were all cut at once. He takes one shuddering breath, and then he reaches for me, snatching me into a hug so crushingly tight that I know he never expected to be able to do it again.
My tears wet his skin, and I can barely breathe, but I say it anyway. “I’m so, so sorry I made you feel you couldn’t trust me with the truth.”
His breaths are ragged. I don’t think he’s crying, more that he’s gulping air like he’s been suffocating and didn’t even know it.
I pull back so I can see his face, and I hate that he’s afraid right now, because he’s not the one who screwed up here. “You were right to protect Maya,” I say fiercely. “After losing
her parents and bouncing back and forth between your house and Hayden’s, the last thing she needs is a parade of girlfriends going through her life. I’m happy to wait as long as you think we need to before I meet her, because the last thing I’d ever want is to hurt your sister.”
“Are you kidding?” His voice is rough, his fingers clutching me much harder than he usually lets himself. “I’ll take you over there right now if you want. You’re it for me, Jera. How do you not know that?”
I push up onto my toes so fast I lose my balance and fall into his chest. His back hits the wall and it’s perfect because his hands are pulling me against him and I need to hold him so bad right now. I let him down, and somehow he’s not leaving. I’m not losing him.
It hits me all at once: I’m kissing my boyfriend in his bedroom, which he decorated with Dora the Explorer because he wanted his baby sister to feel comfortable here. A tear slips down my cheek, and I had no idea it was possible to feel this much for another human being.
“Jera?” His thumb rubs the tear off my cheek, and he tries to pull back but I shake my head.
“I’m okay, I’m just—” I’m not okay. God, he’s perfect, every curve of his muscle against my chest reminding me that he’s in the gym every morning after delivering papers, before I’m even awake. He’s strong where I’m weak and brave when I’ve been tentative. Where I’m flat terrified at the idea of being responsible for a child’s life, he volunteered, even though Hayden had already taken Maya and he technically didn’t have to.
I kiss him again, taking it slower this time, not biting at his bottom lip the way I always do when I get carried away. Instead, I trace it with my tongue, being gentle with him the way he always, always is with me.
“You’re amazing,” I whisper into his mouth.
He runs himself ragged taking care of everyone and everything around him, and he hardly ever sleeps. Even now, his every muscle is drawn tight and I want to give him a break, to feel him relax the way I do when he holds me. I grab his hand and tug him with me toward the bed. I skim my shirt over my head and drop it onto the floor.
“Jera...” He follows my every movement, like he’s still uncertain of which way I might go. But he doesn’t resist when I lay him out on the bed, stroking one hand down his chest until I get to the button of his jeans, flicking it open.
His Adam’s apple bobs and he inhales quickly. His gaze comes back to my face, and I know he’s looking for a reaction to everything he’s told me. But I don’t want to talk, not when words have failed us so thoroughly in the past. I want to be close to him, skin against skin, in this room that’s designed for everyone else’s comfort but his.
“Let me take care of you for once. I want to show you—” I don’t finish, because I don’t know how to tell him everything I mean. The kisses I whisper across his chest aren’t enough, so I tug down his zipper.
I flatten one hand on his stomach as I reach into his boxer briefs with the other, smoothing my hand over every satiny smooth inch of him. His eyes fall closed while a groan aches out from behind his clenched teeth.
“When we’re together, you’re always focused on me and what I like, and that’s not fair. We’ve been dating for weeks and I don’t even know where you like to be touched.”
I squeeze his erection as I lift my other hand, searching for some less obvious erogenous zones. Trailing down his arm, I curl my fingers so my nails lightly score his bicep. His hips jerk beneath me and we catch our breath at the same moment, his eyes coming open just a little to watch as my nails change direction to cross his chest. As I make it down to the first swell of his abs, he drops his head back to the mattress with a growling kind of moan.
Retreating a little, both my hands meet at the waistband of his boxer briefs and I pause. “Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no.” He props himself up on one elbow and catches me behind the neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls me down to his mouth. He’s less careful than he usually is, his tongue delving deep and reckless until my hands clench, my nails scraping on the crumpled denim of his jeans. He smells like clean sweat and metal, and when he lets me go, I want to growl and rip the clothes straight off his body. I settle for stripping them onto the floor and getting rid of my boots before I nudge him farther back onto the narrow bed. It’s longer than a normal twin but his shoulders take up most of the width.
He lounges on his side with one knee bent, reaching out for me. I take his hand and leave a kiss in the center of his palm before I move lower, smoothing my cheek against his upraised thigh. My teeth score the inside of his knee, before I smooth over the bite with my tongue. “Here?”
“Where? What?” he asks. When I smile at him, he seems to remember my quest, and his eyes crinkle at the edges with amusement. “No, not there. Though that’s at least in the top thirty favorite places.”
I follow his strong thigh with my lips, coming to rest at the soft skin just inside his hipbone. “Here?”
This time, he can’t manage words, only a strained-sounding grunt. I’m guessing that means top fifteen.
The rough wool of the blanket scratches my elbow as I scoot up a little, laying a kiss on the bare skin of his abs. They shiver under my lips and I continue circling, leaving small, teasing touches in my wake. He’s already fully aroused, and he pulses thicker every time I get close. I’m not sure which of our hearts is pounding harder when I finally dip my head and brush my lips over him.
His moan shakes the air of the room as I slide my tongue over him, learning his texture. He flexes against my tongue and excitement thrills through me. I like when I can wring even the smallest sound out of him, and right now I can measure exactly how much he wants my touch. It makes me reckless. I push his dick slowly past my lips, loving the feeling of him thick and swollen against my tongue. I’m finally in his room, in the heart of his secrets, and I love that, too.
I’m drunk on the idea of Jacob out of control; all the lazy confidence he has in bed evaporated into flashing eyes and chest-deep groans of near-painful pleasure. I want him to forget about our deal and taking care of me. I want my touch to be so intoxicating he can’t hold on another second.
I steady myself against his leg. His muscles tighten until they’re nearly twanging, and pleasure melts through me. I shift against him, wishing I would have thought to take my jeans off, too, so I could enjoy all his skin against mine.
“Jera...” he gasps. “You have to stop. God, you have to stop.”
I let my tongue enjoy every inch of his cock as I slowly pull away, and then I peek up at him, my eyes half-closed.
“Why?” I challenge, my voice throaty and brave. “So you can take care of yourself after I go home? Maybe I want to watch.” It’s what I think about every time he leaves my house and I stay awake to bring myself to the release I can never seem to find with another person.
The pulse in his throat leaps at my words, then settles into a heavy, thudding rhythm.
“Would you like that?” he asks, his voice a gravelly rumble.
In answer, I take his hand and wrap it around his erection. He doesn’t look away from my face, but I can’t help but glance down to watch when he starts to move, dragging his fist all the way up his length and squeezing the head of his cock so much more roughly than I’d ever dare to.
I am never blinking again.
His hand slides slowly down. I lean forward and take him in my mouth again, following his rhythm as he strokes himself and I trace him with my tongue, his hips rolling freely now as he pushes up into his fist.
Suddenly, his breathing stutters and he jerks away from me, hauling me up over his body, one arm iron-tight around my waist and the other clutching my head to his chest. His lungs heave as he gulps for breath, his whole body trembling so it takes me a second to realize he stopped me before he could finish. Disappointment pings through me, but Jacob’s fingers are shaking as he tries to stroke my hair, and that makes it hard to be sorry. For anything.
His heart th
umps explosively beneath my cheek, and I’m overwhelmed with tenderness that I did this to him. That he wanted me so much.
I turn my head and press a soft kiss directly over his heart, and he stops breathing. My hair falls across my forehead as I look up, alarmed, but then he just chuckles unevenly.
“That’s it. That’s my favorite spot.”
I lift a teasing eyebrow. “Is that your final answer? Because I feel like we had some strong contenders there.”
“Nope. That’s it. That’s the one.”
I leave another kiss to mark the spot, and then scoot up and rest my head on his shoulder. “You didn’t have to stop me, you know.”
“That’s our deal, remember?” He brushes his knuckles down my arm. “I don’t want to go there without you.”
I prop myself up a little. “I’m ready, Jacob. I know it would be different with you. Everything is different with you.” Even as the words leave my lips, I can feel the truth ringing beneath them.
When I was late for the movies one night because rehearsal ran over, he wasn’t mad that we missed the show he already bought tickets for, but he was honestly bummed he hadn’t heard the songs that made me lose track of time. With him, I still feel the tug of guilt, like I need to be better, smarter, kinder. But Jacob always seems to know just the right way to tease me out of it so before I have a chance to get all neurotic, I end up curled with him on the couch, eating all the blue and yellow M&Ms out of the bag while we leave the reds for Danny to scavenge later.
He fits into my life like it’s been holding a spot open just for him, but our sex life is still a giant question mark. We mess around, and pet and play with each other, but we still haven’t even had sex. I don’t see how I can meet Maya and move into a more permanent phase of our relationship with that “what if” still shadowing our future.
“Does that mean I get to go on a hunt for all your favorite spots?” His eyes gleam.
My heart hiccups, then starts sprinting, and my fingers clench on the blanket beneath me. I nod.
A Cruel Kind of Beautiful (Sex, Love, and Rock & Roll Series Book 1) Page 22