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“No! Gross.”

He studied her features, still masking his own, before he stood. “I better go. I wouldn’t want to frighten you with my temper. I’ll see you around, Brook Lynn. Or not. Yeah, probably not.”

That was it? All he had to say? “Now just hold on a sec.”

“Why?” He pushed a hand through his hair. “You’re afraid of me, even though I would rather die than hurt you. There’s nothing else to discuss.”

A part of her melted. A part of her panicked. “You think this is easy for me? Being apart from you? Not trusting you?”

“Certainly seems that way.”

There was a hint of bitterness in his tone. She deserved it, even welcomed it. He felt! “You’re so cold so much of the time, Jase. You hold everything in. Then, apparently, you have times when you boil over and can’t return to a simmer.”

His eyes narrowed. “This is true, but have I ever harmed you?”

“You pushed me once.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Exactly my point!”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “That won’t happen again. I won’t let it. I know to be on guard now.”

“But, Jase...I don’t even know what happened that day. You’ve never told me.”

Tensing more with every second that passed, he said, “I saw blood and flashed back to prison, to the times I’d been ambushed and...stabbed. And worse things.”

She flattened a hand against her churning stomach. Knowing he’d endured such horrors was one thing. Hearing about it was another. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he insisted. “You mean too much to me. Just give me time, and I’ll prove it.”

“But...if I mean so much to you,” she whispered, “why didn’t you come after me?”

His laugh was bitter. “You can’t have it both ways. You can’t run and expect me to chase you. I’m an ex-con. Do you know what a stalking charge would do to me?”

See Brook Lynn’s resistance begin to crumble. “I would never accuse you of stalking.”

“Will you give me time, then?” He seemed to stop breathing, as if her response mattered more than anything ever had.

Tremors skated through her as she realized this was it. Decision time. There’d be no going back after this. He’d take her at her word and proceed accordingly.

“I’m never going to be the guy who displays every emotion,” he said. “I can’t be. But I’m telling you, stating it plain, I want to be with you. I don’t care how I get you—I just want you in my life.”

How am I supposed to resist him?

“O...okay,” she said. “I’ll give you time.”

He stepped toward her, only to stop. “Be very sure. I won’t live through another separation.”

“I wouldn’t, either,” she admitted. “I’m sure. I want to be with you, too.”

His relief was palpable, his desire more so. His eyes hooded, making her tremors redouble. “I hope you’re ready to cross another item off your fun list.” His tone...from stoic to simmering, tentative to determined.

“Always sometimes,” she said with a nod.

“Good enough.” He placed a knee on the edge of the bed, then the other, and urged her to her back. “Because we’re about to solve the mystery of the missing orgasm.”

She half laughed, half moaned in sublime surrender. “I believe I specified a mystery dinner.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, bending down. “We’ll be dining.”

Her heart kicked into a wild beat, her insides immediately flashing white-hot when he crashed his lips into hers, his tongue thrusting with brutal force, and she lost track of her surroundings.

He took her mouth with the same sense of possession he’d first taken her body. It was as if a dam had burst inside him, and only passion spilled free. He began pulling at her clothing, ripping the material in his haste. By the time he had her naked, a glorious madness had overtaken her, his name the only word her fragmented thoughts could form.

“Jase...Jase...” Oh, how she’d missed him. At times like this, when they were intimate, she feared nothing.

Their tongues parried and thrust in a sensual dance of dominance, and she realized this...this was what she’d thought she’d be getting when they’d first decided to commit. Raw carnality. A passion unlike any other. Almost...savage, with absolutely nothing held back.

He kissed and nipped his way to her breast, kneading the plump flesh. He sucked her nipple so hard a cry parted her lips, her back arching—to get closer to him or put distance between them, she wasn’t sure. It was a mix of pleasure/pain she’d never before experienced, and she was instantly addicted.

“More,” she commanded, fingers fisting his hair to hold his head in place.

He sucked one nipple then the other, giving them the same fierce treatment, until both were swollen and throbbing with ecstasy, a mimic of the constant throb between her legs. She didn’t think she’d ever been so aroused or so wet—until he anchored her feet on his shoulders and knelt at the edge of the bed, dragging her over and placing his mouth directly between her spread legs.

He...utterly...devoured...her.

Like a starving man who’d just discovered a banquet. Like a man who’d had too many treasures stolen and thought he would lose this, too. He was ferocious, almost like an animal. Nipping and growling his approval as she writhed against his face. She came once...twice...lost in an ocean of rapture and never wanting to be found.


Tags: Gena Showalter The Original Heartbreakers Romance