Just that. Just hi, and even after two weeks apart, his voice hit her in the gut and left shivers in its wake. It made her own voice husky. “Jasper. Hi.”
His gaze traced her face, and he swallowed hard. “Can I come in?”
Only Lex had been past the threshold of her new domain, but if she denied Jasper access, she’d feel craven. Stepping aside, she held the door open. “It’s a little messy. I had a late night…”
“Working. I know.” He walked in and paused in the middle of the room to look around. “It’s nice.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t want his approval. Didn’t want to believe it was sincere, and didn’t want the warmth it kindled in her belly. And if she told herself that enough times, maybe it would become true.
“It looks like you,” he murmured, then looked down at the package in his hands. “I brought you something, because we need to talk.”
“All right.” Once she’d shut the door, she shoved aside a stack of clothing on the couch, clearing a space for him. “You can sit, if you want.”
He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “No, I’m okay.”
The weakness inside her threatened to crack open and swallow her whole. She wanted to melt into his touch, melt into him, and God, it was supposed to get better. She eased her arm away and turned to the side table. “Do you want a drink, then? I have whiskey and rum.”
“I was wrong,” Jasper blurted. “Rachel’s right—I’m a dickhead.”
Noelle froze. “I’m sorry?”
“I shouldn’t have tried to make you go back to Eden.” His brows drew together in a stormy frown. “You were miserable there. Why the hell would you ever want to go through that again?”
She was so surprised by his words that she responded with the truth. “I wouldn’t. I didn’t.”
“No shit.” He held out the parcel. “Take it. I got it for you.”
She closed her fingers around the package out of reflex, the brown paper crumpling in her grip. “Jasper, you don’t need to do this…”
“I want you to give me a chance,” he said firmly.
Her heart lurched painfully. “A chance at what? What do you want?”
His fingers tangled in her hair, but relaxed and slipped away without closing. “I want you.”
How many times had she heard those words in her dreams, memories mixed with a yearning fantasy that left her empty and wanting? “You had me,” she whispered, clutching the package. “And you didn’t just let me go. You shoved me away.”
Jasper nodded. “I did. I’m sorry. I think…” He looked away. “I didn’t believe you were mine.”
“I was.” She watched his profile, drinking in the sight of his face when she knew her next words might drive him away. “But I’m not anymore. I belong to myself, and I’m not going to give that up casually again.”
“I know. I don’t expect you to. That’s what the…” He gestured to the square package. “I got that.”
Since he was watching her expectantly, she had no choice but to edge a finger under the wrapping and tear it open. Inside was a framed painting every bit as intricate as the one hanging in Lex’s spare room, if half the size. Staring at the swooping brushstrokes, it was impossible for Noelle not to think about Lex, stashing gift after gift in a room full of baubles because Dallas kept trying to buy her affection.
The painting must have cost a fortune, but money was easy to come by as an O’Kane. A couple weeks of dancing had taught her that. “It’s beautiful,” she began, rubbing her thumb along the beveled edge of the frame, “but I don’t need—”
“It’s for Ace,” Jasper cut in. “But you need to have it. Hang on to it ’til you’re ready for us to make the trade. If you get ready.”
Her confusion only deepened, though suspicion stirred in her gut, the first whisper of anticipation. Surely he didn’t mean— “Trade for what?”
All his attention was focused on her mouth, and he stepped closer. “He won’t take money for that ink,” Jasper murmured, lifting his thumb to her throat. “Not for marks.”
Marks. Jasper’s marks. She shivered, and this time her nipples tightened, along with the rest of her body. Arousal sizzled both at the touch of his skin and the thought of a claim as permanent as the one wound around her wrists. Dallas had shown her the strength of that claim. Not many things were sacred in the sectors, but ink was a promise.
A promise Jasper was offering.
“You want to mark me?” She had to ask the question because she had to hear the words from his lips, blunt and unmistakable.
“I want to mark you.” He drove his fingers into her hair again, and this time he nearly crushed the painting between them as he bent his head and captured her lips in a blistering kiss.
It was everything she’d been missing and more. The strength in his grip, the hot slide of his tongue, the way he worked her mouth open with strokes that demanded with steely gentleness. She wanted to give in, to bend to his unspoken command and glory in the bliss of submission.
She might have, too, if she hadn’t felt the familiar flicker of shame. If she buckled now, the doubt would always be there, the knowledge that she’d betrayed herself out of fear and insecurity. She needed time, and she needed him to want her enough to fight for her.
Or wait for her.
It took every scrap of self-control to pull away. “I need to think,” she gasped, which wasn’t the most graceful way to say it, but if she didn’t get the words out, she’d kiss him again and be lost.
He chased after her and licked her bottom lip. “Think. Yeah, all right.”
She hadn’t realized she’d been braced for frustration or anger until he gave her neither. “You’re sure? You—you’ll wait?”
He was panting, heavy breaths falling warm on her cheek. “All things considered, it only seems fair.” Then he smiled. “I’d wait even if it wasn’t.”
The wicked curve of his lips rocketed her heart into her throat. So much promise. So much beautiful, filthy promise, and she couldn’t stop herself from asking. “And if I say yes? How far will you take me?”
“As far as you want to go,” he whispered. “No, all the way. I’m finished with limits.”
It was her turn to stare at his mouth. She wanted to claim his lips, to kiss him again, just once, and if she did, she’d never stop. “I’ll think,” she said, stepping back before she could do something reckless. “I promise.”
Jasper took a deep breath. “Think. Then come talk to me.”
Holding the painting against her chest as a shield, she nodded. “I will. But you should go now.”
“Because you don’t trust me to keep my hands to myself?”
He was teasing her, and that was the part she’d missed most of all. Her lips twitched, and she had to fight to press them into a stern line. “Of course you will. You may not have noticed, but I’ve learned how to say no. Thanks to Lex, I’m getting pretty good at it.”
“I’ve noticed.” He rubbed his knuckles over her collarbone.
Noelle batted his hand away. “I’m saying it now. No, Jasper. I need time and space.” Mostly because without the space, she’d never make herself take the time—but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it. O’Kane men were already universally overconfident.
His discontented rumble melted into a sigh, and he held up both hands. “I’m going. You know where to find me.”
She nodded, clamping down on the surge of panic that threatened. Watching him walk away would hurt, but she needed him to go. She needed to trust that he would come back. “I’ll see you around.”