ThreeReasonsWhy (8 page)

He cupped her face in his hands as he deepened the kiss they
shared. His air became hers. His hips mimicked the driving thrusts of his
tongue in her mouth, each motion driving him deeper into her body.

She fought for air, fought for purchase, fought for more. He
was taking over every part of her and she was surrendering willingly.

“Faster,” she murmured when he released her lips. “God, move
faster. I need you so badly.”

Wes ran his lips over her cheek, the gesture so sweet, so
loving, her heart beat harder. She’d had sex far too many times in her life.
She’d never once made love.

Her traitorous heart tried to deny the truth of that
thought.

No
, she thought.
It’s sex. Only sex
.

Wes wiped away all her anxieties when he lifted her legs
above her head. The new position allowed him to thrust deeper. She gasped as
his cock touched parts of her that were previously uncharted. No lover had ever
taken her so completely.

Thrashing her head against the pillow, she fought against
coming too soon. She was in no hurry to give up Eden after only walking through
the gate.

“God,” she cried when he pushed in even stronger. His hips
slapped against her thighs powerfully. He was staking a claim that could never
be questioned or refuted.

“Fuck, Jill. So fucking good.”

Her mind could only conjure up the words,
No shit
.

Instead, she merely hissed, “Yes.”

Over and over, he moved inside her, deeper and harder. His
cock pounding into her body in a marvelously steady rhythm. She thrust her hips
against him as much as her position would allow, anxious—greedy—for more.

At last, she admitted defeat. She had to give in to her
orgasm or die. She screamed as his cock throbbed with its release.

Wes held her tightly for several long moments as her body
trembled with the aftermath of their combined climax.

When her strength returned, she lowered her legs, leaving
them dangling from the edge of the bed.

Wes rolled off her, pulling her into his tight embrace, and
Jill’s wits returned, resounding in her brain like the pealing of a bell. Her
reasons for running, for hiding, for resisting Wes crashed in on her, and panic
gripped her chest.

The damage was done. Wes had overpowered her better judgment
and claimed the one thing she’d never, ever given to anyone—her heart.

Problem was, she couldn’t accept his in return. Not without
destroying him.

* * * * *

Wes opened his eyes in the dark room and grinned. He and
Jill had dozed and made love off and on all afternoon. A quick glance at the
clock showed it was nearly nine. They’d skipped dinner, neither of them hungry
for anything outside the walls of her bedroom. He’d taken her three times and
already his body was hardening, readying itself for more.

Jill curled against his chest like a kitten searching for
warmth. He pulled the covers over her shoulders and tightened his grip. He knew
without a shadow of a doubt Jill was his destiny. The way her body responded to
his had only solidified the truth he’d known since walking into her diner all
those years earlier. He’d taken one look at this little blonde pixie, and the
blinders he’d worn for years fell away.

Like a fool, he’d thought his future was set, his life
determined. He had his dream job in the DEA, a roof over his head, money in the
bank and the occasional hook-up in his bed.

Meeting Jill proved all those things were insignificant
distractions. She was the real deal, the only thing that mattered.

Unfortunately, for some reason she still hadn’t told him,
Jill was working overtime to deny the truth. He’d hoped getting her into bed,
making love to her would penetrate the damn defenses she’d erected between
them. Sadly, that didn’t appear to be the case. Though her body responded to
his, her heart was closed against him. He could sense her holding back,
restraining from giving herself to him fully.

Why?

Her hand drifted along his chest and he listened to the
subtle change in her breathing that told him she was awake.

“Hungry?” he asked.

She shook her head. She lay quietly, and he wondered what
she was thinking about. When the silence lingered for longer than was
comfortable, he rolled to face her.

“You okay?”

She nodded and gave him a smile tinged with sadness.

He narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t used to this quiet Jill. He
preferred the woman who always had an answer—smartass or otherwise. He touched
her face, stroking the soft skin of her cheek. “Talk to me. Was it awful? Did
you hate it?”

She shook her head, confirming he hadn’t misread his earlier
assumptions that the sex between them was off-the-charts hot. “Hardly. God, can
you die from too many amazing orgasms?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

She leaned forward and placed a quick kiss against his lips.
He loved when she initiated the kiss. “Are you spending the night?”

He nodded. “I was planning on it. Is that okay with you?”

She didn’t answer right away, and again he sensed she was
trying to keep that cursed distance between them. It pissed him off.

“Goddamn it.” He pushed her to her back, rolling on top of
her. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Pushing me away.” Before she could reply, he pushed his
cock inside her body. As always, she was wet and ready to accept him. “Feel
this?” He pushed deeper as he spoke.

She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. The
movement allowed him to thrust deeper.

“I want to be inside you, Jill.”

“You are.” She gasped when he pulled back, her pussy
clenching around his hard flesh. It was a heady sensation, and he returned
quickly with a strong shove.

“Not just your body.” He moved again, shallow, light
movements meant to stoke the flames.

“God, Wes,” she cried out, trying to direct his motions with
her legs. “More.”

He answered her request, thrust deeper, harder. “Like this?”

He stopped again and she squeezed his upper arms tightly.
“Please.” Her hips wriggled, trying to instigate movement. “Give me more.”

He responded, thrusting inside her body in the way he’d
learned that she liked. When he reached the tipping point, he froze. “Let me
in,” he repeated.

She gave him a puzzled look. “You are.”

He shook his head. “Not like this.” He bent down, gave her a
long, hard kiss, relishing her hungry response. They were well-matched in
passion. “Let me in,” he repeated, moving slowly, deeply.

Her orgasm built quickly and he knew he’d rather cut off his
left arm than stop now. He pushed her—and himself—higher, both of them giving
in to the heat together.

He shuddered as his climax took him, her pussy gripping him
tightly. Jill was a vocal lover. Her soft, panting cries sounded like music,
driving him higher, dragging out his orgasm until he became lightheaded.

As he filled her with his come, he realized he’d forgotten
to put on a condom. Jill trembled slightly beneath him but he could see by the
look of bliss on her face she hadn’t realized his fuckup yet.

Resting on his elbows, he kissed her softly. “Let me in,” he
whispered once more.

Jill looked at him with unshed tears. “I can’t.”

He wanted to argue, wanted to rage against her continued
protest, but something in her face stopped him. It was giving her no joy to
refuse him. Her face was etched with pain. Something was seriously wrong but
until she opened up to him, Wes knew he didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in
hell of claiming her heart.

He kissed her lightly before moving to the side of the bed
and rising.

If he’d expected her to protest his leaving, he would have
been disappointed. But he knew she’d offer no complaint. Leaving was the
hardest thing he’d ever had to do, but he knew that
this
battle was
lost. Better to regroup. The war was far from over.

“Good night, Jill.”

Chapter Five

Two days later, Jill was home pouring her second cup of
coffee when a loud crash came from downstairs in the diner. “What the hell?”

She was barefoot and dressed in just her robe as she threw
open her door and nearly collided with Cheryl in the hallway.

“What the hell was that?” Cheryl asked.

“No idea. Come on.” Jill led the way down the staircase. A
chilly breeze caught her at the bottom, causing her to shiver. As she entered
the diner, she saw that the plate-glass window at the front of the dining area
had been shattered. Glass covered nearly every inch of the floor.

Jill stepped into the room, instantly treading on a sharp
piece of glass. “Dammit!”

“Well, hell,” muttered Cheryl from behind her. “Somebody
broke the glass.”

“No shit.” Jill hopped back out of the dining room with
Cheryl’s assistance and sat on a chair in the hallway.

“Lemme see.” Her friend leaned down. “Yep, the glass is
still in there. Hold still a second.” Cheryl pushed on the sole of her foot.

“Dammit, Cheryl, what are you doing? That hurts.”

“I’m trying to dig it out. Stop squirming.”

Jill closed her eyes to block out Cheryl’s poking and
prodding, the sight of the blood making her queasy. She’d never been able to
stomach blood—hers or anybody else’s.

She hadn’t slept a wink since Wes left her bed two nights
earlier. The defeated look on his face as he’d walked away had eaten at her
soul until she thought she’d go mad. She’d picked up the phone a thousand times
to call him, but she never got beyond the fourth digit before she hung up. What
could she say?

I’m sorry I hurt you, but this is for the best?

While her head knew that, her heart didn’t concur. Her main
fear was that he’d answer the phone and she’d beg him to come back. What good
would that do? Better to make the break now.

“Ouch.”

“There. I think I got it out. Let me grab a towel and
Band-Aid from the kitchen.”

“Call Drake while you’re in there,” Jill shouted. She was
careful to specify which member of Madison’s police force she wanted to answer
this call.

“Okay,” Cheryl called out in response.

“Asshole vandals, throwing damn rocks at my windows,
clogging my toilets, keying my car,” she muttered. “Damn it, I do not need this
aggravation right now.”

“Talking to yourself isn’t going to help.” Cheryl bustled
out of the kitchen with a wet towel and bandages.

“Maybe not, but seeing as how I can’t yell and scream at the
idiot who broke my fucking window, I don’t have anyone else to berate. Ouch,
Jesus, Cheryl! Stick with waitressing. It’s clear you’ll never be a nurse.”

“Oh hush up. You’re acting like a big baby. It’s just a
little cut. I want to get the blood cleaned up so the Band-Aid will stick. Now
then, that’s good. I’ve got some Neosporin here too. Want me to kiss and make
it better?”

Her friend finished patching her up as Jill smiled. Cheryl
was truly her best friend. She figured no one else but the straight-shooting,
chain-smoking waitress could put up with her and her cutting way of
communicating on a daily basis.

“Sorry. Didn’t get my second cup of coffee yet.”

Cheryl grinned. “Well, that explains it then. Even I know
better than to break one of your windows before you’ve had your daily fix of
caffeine.”

The sound of a siren broke through the quiet morning air.

“Damn Drake,” Cheryl said. “Why in the hell does he think he
needs to blast that siren? He’ll wake up the whole damn town and have them over
here poking their noses in our business.”

“Gotta love Madison. Drake’s probably been looking for a
reason to turn on those flashing lights for weeks,” Jill replied. “Let’s face
it. We’re gonna be the big news today with that broken window.”

“Hell, we’re probably gonna be on the front page of the
paper for the next week and a half.”

They were laughing when Drake and Wes came through the
kitchen door. Cheryl had unlocked the back door for them so they wouldn’t have
to tramp through the sea of glass out front. Jill tried not to let her eyes eat
up how gorgeous Wes looked in his police uniform.

“Glad to see you’re finding some humor in this situation,”
Drake said.

“What did you do to your foot?” Wes asked, and Jill was
amazed by how quickly he’d noticed her tiny Band-Aid.

“Stepped on a piece of glass. It’s okay now.”

“Why the hell are you running around barefoot?” His hands
were braced on his hips, and Jill saw Cheryl’s eyebrows rise at his tone.

“Oh, I don’t know, Wes. Maybe because it’s six o’clock in
the fucking morning and I don’t sleep in shoes!”

“Uh, Drake, why don’t you come on in the kitchen with me?
I’ll get the coffeepot going.” Cheryl opened the kitchen door, making a hasty
escape with the sheriff. It was on the tip of Jill’s tongue to beg her friend
to stay, but there was no use in putting off the inevitable. Madison was a
small town and there was no way she could avoid Wes forever.

“Somebody threw something through my window. Cheryl and I
heard a loud crash and ran down to check it out. Shoes probably would have been
smart, but I’m functioning at half-mast without coffee.” She hoped her friendly
tone would make amends for her hostile response. Hell, for everything.

He grinned, bending down to look at her foot. She was
surprised when he lifted it and kissed it as Cheryl had offered to do. “There,”
he said. “All better. Why don’t you go throw on some clothes and shoes and I’ll
take a look around in there? See if I can’t figure out who broke the window and
with what.”

“May as well. Doesn’t look like I’ll be opening today. It’s
going to take some time to clean up all that glass, and then I’ve got to find
someone to replace the window. So thoughtful of the idiot to do this when it’s
cold as shit outside,” she muttered, her anger and frustration mounting again.