Falling for Her (17 page)

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Authors: Sandra Owens

BOOK: Falling for Her
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Lifting onto her toes, she put her hands on his waist and pressed her lips to his. Hands at his sides, he stood as still as a statue and almost as rigid as an unyielding slab of granite.

“Please,” she whispered against his lips, wishing for the first time in her life she knew how to seduce a man. Instinctively, she licked her tongue across the seam of his mouth. Other than a slight flexing of his muscles under her palms, he gave no reaction. Defeated, heartbroken, she lowered her heels back to the floor and prepared to send him on his way.

“Damn you, Sugar.”

Faster than she could blink, she was swept off her feet and carried to her bed, where she was unceremoniously dropped onto the mattress. Afraid she might say the wrong thing, she stayed silent as he stared down at her. His eyes had gone a turbulent blue and she couldn’t tell if they reflected anger or desire. Maybe a little of both. Anger for sure if he was back to cursing, and the desire could just be wishful thinking.

He reached into his back pocket and removed his wallet, opened it and pulled out a condom. Sugar fisted her hands as anticipation warred with fear of what was going to happen. Setting the foil package on the nightstand, he tugged his T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. She’d thought he would undress her first, but no. His jeans soon joined his shirt and he stood before her clad only in a pair of dark blue briefs.

God above, he was magnificent, and it was a sight she’d carry with her forever.

The thin arrow of golden hair running down the middle of his stomach caught her attention. Her gaze fell to the huge bulge in his underwear, and she swallowed hard. She wasn’t Hannah, she was Sugar, a woman with no reason to be afraid of joining with a man. When he pushed the briefs down his hips and stepped out of them, she kept her gaze to his face.

“If you can’t look at me without the panic I see on your face, I won’t do this. Tell me you want me, Sugar.”

The barest hint of warmth had entered his eyes, and she took courage in understanding he was giving her the choice of what happened next. That he’d purposely undressed first told her he remembered their last night together, and if she wanted him in her bed, she’d have to show him that seeing him aroused didn’t make her feel sick.

For a moment, it did. But she swallowed the bile rising in her throat and gave herself a stern lecture that he wasn’t Rodney, and she was being stupid. Jamie was what she wanted, and as the thought settled in, her stomach calmed and she lowered her gaze to his erection.

Oh, yes, she wanted him. “I do. I do want you, Jamie.”

With a new resolve and heat traveling through her veins, she lifted her hand and circled her fingers around his cock . . . wasn’t that what men liked to call it? Before Jamie, she’d thought of it as
that thing
she didn’t want anywhere near her. Now, she had a whole new appreciation for the appendage, and wasn’t that a wonderful thing?

“I wouldn’t want to be a man if I had to walk around all day with that between my legs, but it’s strangely fascinating.” She sat up and traced the shape of it, then lifted it and peered underneath.

“What are you doing, woman?”

“Studying it,” she answered, pleased to hear the amusement in his voice. “To address your concern, it’s not at all as scary as I’d expected, and there’ll be no repeat of my embarrassing behavior like last time.”

“That’s a relief.” He took her hand away and sat next to her. “Are you sure about this? I won’t deny the minute I first saw you, I wanted you. As much as I tried not to, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” When she didn’t reply, his eyelids lowered, and he shifted his face away from her. “Maybe I should leave.”

“No.” She placed her hand on his leg to stop him from standing. “I need you to understand I’m not looking for anything permanent. I just want . . .” How much to tell him? Enough so he’d understand that what would happen next meant something to her, but not so much to scare him away. “I was chosen by Rodney . . . I don’t remember, did I ever tell you that was his name?” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Anyway, when I was fifteen, and from then on, I was never allowed friends or outside interests. I don’t think of him by anything but
bad cop
.”

“He took you at fifteen? Where the hell were your parents?”

Never had she heard such anger in a voice, not even from Rodney at his worst. Although he didn’t know it, his rage was on behalf of Hannah, a girl no one had cared enough about to protect, and Sugar willed herself not to cry.

“No, he
chose
me, but he waited to take me until after I’d finished high school. As for my parents, my mom died when I was ten, and my father changed after that, started drinking and not spending much time at home. Then he met Rodney. I-I don’t want to share all the sordid details of my life after that. All I want is this one night with you, to know how it feels to have a man make love to me. I don’t consider the things Rodney did making love.”

“I’d like to have a word with your father. How could he—”

“Shhh. No more questions. Will you give me this one night? Please, Jamie.” His thigh muscle tensed under her hand and she waited, half expecting him to get up and walk out.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

H
ow do I say no to that?” He should. The woman looking at him with uncertainty in her eyes had ghosts plaguing her, and Jamie had enough of his own ghosts to contend with. Hearing her speak of the man who’d chosen a fifteen-year-old girl—then had mistreated her so badly—made him want to break something, preferably one Rodney Vanders.

The last thing he wanted was a relationship with a beautiful, hurting woman needing the soft touch of a man. Even though she’d said just one night, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk away if he laid her down on her bed and shared such an intimate act as joining their bodies.

Just lust, he thought, lying to himself. He’d lusted plenty up to the day he’d killed his parents and never had it felt like this. Still, as much as he should, he couldn’t deny her. If all she wanted was one night, so be it.

“Thank you for not saying no,” she said, her whispered words calling to something so deep inside him he couldn’t begin to answer her.

Instead, he gently pushed her down onto the bed. Knowing that she’d been mistreated, maybe even brutalized, he was determined to touch her so softly she would think she’d made love to a gossamer angel.

Stretching out beside her, he lowered his hand over her stomach so that his palm covered her belly button, his fingers spread over her soft, silky skin. “You’re dangerous, Sugar Darling.”

“That’s silly. I’m not even close to dangerous.”

“To me you are,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers. Slipping his hand under the little T-shirt as he kissed her, he brushed his fingertips over a breast. So soft. So warm. He flicked her nipple with his thumb, causing her to sigh into his mouth.

What kind of fool did it take to not see how innately sensual she was, instead, mistreating her so badly she’d gotten sick at the thought of making love to a man? If he could give her nothing else, he’d show her how it was supposed to be between a man and a woman, how good it could be. Deep in his bones, he knew she planned to leave. If nothing else, he would be doing her a favor, and the next time she met someone she liked, she’d know sex didn’t have to hurt.

If it bothered him to think of her with another man, he’d get over it.

As he gently caressed her other breast, he understood this woman needed tender, kind hands on her. The last time they’d been in bed together, it had seemed to help when he’d talked to her, telling her what he was going to do.

“I’m going to take off your shirt, sweetheart, so I can see these beautiful breasts I’m touching. Okay?”

Her lips curved up as she grinned. “I was beginning to think we were going to do this with you naked and me clothed.”

Knowing some of her past, the trust in her eyes—darkened to a deep violet now—would have brought him to his knees if he’d been standing. “You’re definitely going to end up naked, baby. Shirt off.” He helped her pull it over her head and sucked in a breath at seeing the pale pink nipples peaked from desire. There should have been warnings tattooed on her body that read, “Jamie, no return past this point.”

“You ready for your shorts to come off? And you should know I might die if you say no.” Her laugh rolled though him like some kind of healing balm injected straight into his veins, and he found himself laughing with her, although he couldn’t explain what was so funny as they dissolved into gasping giggles.

Saint didn’t laugh, something the guys had tried but failed to make happen for years with their stupid jokes and silly faces. There was a standing bet among them that the first one to set him off would collect five hundred bucks from the others. What would they think if they knew a beautiful but damaged woman had him giggling like an eight-year-old girl high on sugar at a slumber party?

“Tell me why we’re laughing, Sugar,” he said when he’d caught his breath and could speak. That set her off once more, and taking him by surprise, she twisted up and straddled him, dangling those beautiful breasts in front of his face.

“Because at this particular moment we’re so happy we can’t help it?”

“Could be.” It was as good a reason as any. She rocked against him, settling herself so that the outer lips of her folds hugged his erection. Even with the barrier of her little boxers, her heat seared him, and he gritted his teeth against his raging desire.

“Can I take my shorts off now, Jamie?”

Never had he been asked a stupider question. “God, yes.”

She lifted, standing on the mattress, and wiggled out of her last piece of clothing. His gaze traveled from her knees up to all the other parts of her. He noted in passing that her pubic hair was a different color than the hair on her head, more of a reddish tint to it than the honey blonde. At the moment, he didn’t care if her curls were neon green.

“Sugar,” he rasped, and slid his hands up her calves to the back of her knees. “Come down here and lay your body over mine.”

Sugar gazed down at Jamie as she stood over him, wondering where the courage to be some kind of sex kitten came from. But she did know. It was him. His kind touch, the softness in his eyes when he looked at her, his laughter joining hers over their silliness. She stole her courage from him, from the beautiful soul that resided inside him.

As she lowered herself over his legs, she stared into his eyes, memorizing the way they turned to a blue so velvety dark she was reminded of midnight. In the nights to come when she was in some other city, in some other state, she’d walk outside at the stroke of twelve, gaze up at the velvet night sky, and think of him.

Always him.

Time was running out, though. “Are you ready for me?”

“In a sec.” He grabbed the condom from the nightstand, and she watched as he rolled it on. For some reason, seeing him do that was just damn sexy.

“Now?” she asked when he finished and looked up at her with those angel eyes of his. At his nod, she slid up the length of him and waited for him to take over because she didn’t know what to do next. Although she’d carefully kept her gaze off the part of him he would soon put in her, it was there in her peripheral vision, and it hadn’t gotten any smaller since the last time she’d seen it. Her stomach lurched. What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she just been studying it not five minutes ago, claiming it wasn’t scary after all?

Stop being a baby, Sugar. Hannah did this before, not you. Just remember that.

To prove—if only to herself—she was no longer Hannah, Sugar gathered her courage and looked down, right at his erection, and her only reaction was fascination with the way it seemed to point at her.

Pleased with herself, Sugar smiled and lifted up. “What now? I just impale myself on you?”

“Tell you what,” Jamie said. “I’m just going to lie here and see what
you decide to do next. Just know this, Sugar. Whatever you decide, I
won’t hurt you. If it helps in your decision to know I might die if you
end up hanging your head in the toilet again because of me . . .” His
smile melted her heart like chocolate left in the hot sun. “. . . I’ll leave.
Even though it will kill me. My favorite flowers are . . .” he slid a hand up, from her knee to her hip, “. . . wildflowers. Send a batch of those to my funeral.”

“You’d best not leave or die. Shut up, Jamie.” If she hadn’t loved him before, she would’ve tumbled head over heels that very second. He really would leave if she asked him to, and he’d do it without laying a hand on her in anger. The nerves she’d been battling since he’d removed his clothes disappeared, and she wrapped her hand around him, and lowered herself down.

“Just know this, Jamie Turner. You’re not going anywhere. At least, not tonight.” He filled her, and it didn’t hurt! There were miracles still to be had in this world after all.

“Why the tears?” he asked as he reached up with both hands and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks.

So gentle his touch was. “Jamie,” she whispered, and bent over him until their mouths were locked together.

His hands settled on her waist, and his fingers pressed into her skin, supporting her weight as he helped her lift up, then easing as she came back down. Up and down she went on him, finding a rhythm that seemed to excite him if his low growl was any indication.

By all that was holy, she’d never felt anything so good as having Jamie filling her, never dreamed a man could pleasure her into incoherency. Had never felt so complete. The tears continued to fall, and she couldn’t stop them.

“Why, Sugar?” he asked, returning his fingers to her face, catching the watery drops.

“Happiness, that’s all.”
And knowing I’ll never see you again after tonight
. The crisp hairs on his thighs rubbed against her sensitive skin as she moved steadily over him, and it was like she was a harp, and her strings were being plucked to create a masterpiece, one that would never be heard outside her bedroom. She’d never in her life been so sad and so happy at the same time.

Suddenly, he flipped her and loomed over her. “Can I take it from here?”

“Yes, please.” The blue of his eyes turned three shades darker, and just seeing how his desire for her changed their color did funny things to her heart.

“Thank you.” He rocked against her, burying himself deeper. “Sugar,” he whispered, then wrapped his lips around the nipple of her breast and sucked.

Red-hot fire spiraled through her, sending what felt like molten lava to the very core of her. If she burned to a crisp, she would welcome it. She raised her legs, bracing her feet on the mattress. His hands found their way under her, cupping her bottom, and he moved his mouth to the opposite nipple.

“Ahhh.” Long past forming coherent words, Sugar gave herself over to the rush of pleasure streaming though her and met him thrust for thrust. Pressure built inside her starting at where they were joined, then raced through her, increasing to an unbearable level. The blood flowing through her veins hummed, her skin prickled, and her ears rang so loudly that she wondered if there was a church in the distance where someone was pulling on the bell ropes.

He’d pleasured her once before, bringing her to an amazing orgasm, but that one paled to this. Fearing she would shatter into irreparable pieces, she tried to hold back the oncoming tide of feelings threatening to consume her.

“No. Don’t go away. Stay with me.”

At the command in his voice, she opened her eyes. She caught his gaze and held it as stars, bright and shimmering, danced in her vision. A wave with the force of a tsunami crashed over her, through her, and deep inside her. It consumed her, then burned her, then healed her.

“Jamie!”
Oh, God, Jamie.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

Something flickered in his eyes, something soft and meant just for her. Something she’d treasure forever. She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt the shudders traveling through him as he climaxed inside her body.
I love you. I love you, Jamie Turner.
The words could never be said aloud, but they were there in her head, always would be.

The room settled into silence as their breathing calmed, and she greedily savored the last few minutes she’d have with him before finding the words to make him leave. His back was slick with the sweat of their lovemaking, and she glided her hands over his warm skin, wishing she could climb behind him and lick him dry.

I love you,
she silently told him one last time. His body still covered hers, so strong and alluring. As much as she needed him gone . . . God, she didn’t want him to leave. If she could just curl up in his arms and pretend she didn’t know a man by the name of Rodney Vanders, she’d feel safe for the first time in years. Could she tell him just enough
so he’d help her get away without being followed?

“Talk to me, sweetheart. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

The endearment about did her in, and she blinked against the tears burning her eyes. Once she got away, she’d never see him again, and that alone tempted her to confront Rodney just to put an end to everything. If she didn’t live through it—a strong possibility—then so be it.

Junior jumped onto the bed and bumped her shoulder with his head, wanting to be petted. If Rodney knew how much she loved the stray she’d taken in and given a home, he’d kill the poor thing and make her watch him doing it. It would be the last straw, the one to finally send her over the edge. No, she had to run. There was no other way.

Before the last minutes, she’d never have dreamed of asking Jamie for anything, but there had been tenderness in his eyes for her, maybe even a little bit of caring. Enough to aid her without the explanations she couldn’t bring herself to give him? Only one way to find out.

“I have to disappear. Will you help me?”

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