The excitement in her eyes was almost enough to knock Sarge into oblivion, but then she frowned, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, her tits still bouncing from the force his drives. “Please, please, Sarge. Ay que rico. I want it inside m-me.”
She climaxed on the final word and Sarge sprinted after, their wet, spasming flesh slapping together as strangled moans rent the air. Oxygen eluded him…he couldn’t pull enough into his lungs. A series of images flashed on the backs of his eyelids. The first time he’d met Jasmine in his living room and spent the night wondering about her. Jasmine laughing as she jumped off the community pool diving board. Jasmine singing beside him at the mall, her voice clear and rich. She was it for him. Always had been. His head buzzed and spun with urgency. On the heels of an orgasm that had stripped the remains of his filter, Sarge could process only one fact. If he didn’t keep her, he’d never be happy a day in his life. Not now. Not after knowing and loving her at this stage of his life. Solidifying what he’d always known.
“I love you, Jasmine.” His body deflated against her as the words were released. Relief. So much relief at finally saying them. Getting them out of his chest where they’d been held prisoner for so long. They meant more now, though. This wasn’t a crush or an infatuation—every minute in her company confirmed it. He’d loved Jasmine then and he loved her more now. “I’ve always, always loved you. I’m not going anywhere, do you understand me? I’m staying here with you.”
Jasmine’s first reaction was joy. A rush of happiness so strong, she could never harness it or make it manageable. It was a fist around her heart, pumping the blood without her assistance. Taking the responsibility of staying alive away from her. When a man like Sarge loved you with such ferocity, surely that love could sustain you on its own.
But she came down hard. She crashed to earth with broken bones, wondering why her parachute hadn’t opened and softened the fall. I’ve always, always loved you.
How could she want that love and feel the unshakable need to run away at the same time? It was like walking in on the third act of a play and trying to discern each player’s motivation, except there was only one player and his arms were banded around her so tight, she thought he might be trying to meld them together. A significant part of her wanted that joining to take place, but another more prominent part was scared to death. She’d allowed him to overwhelm her with every word, every touch. Now it was time to remove the blinders. And with that removal, every insecurity she’d slowly managed to suppress throughout the last few days rained down on her head.
Sarge couldn’t want this woman she’d become, whose idea of a Friday night was warm beer in a shitty bar, fingernails still sooty from her factory job. This fantasy relationship would be over as soon as he realized he’d saddled himself with a never-was. Because Sarge Purcell, rock star, was the exact opposite. He’d made it.
It was up to Jasmine to make sure he didn’t make this mistake. She…she would be the mistake. She couldn’t compete with the bright lights and adoration he’d grown accustomed to since getting free of Hook.
Jasmine dug her fingernails into her palm, pressing until pain bloomed behind her eyes. “What do you mean you’re staying?”
Sarge’s head came up, wariness deepening the blue of his eyes at her tone of voice. God, he was beautiful, his dark hair a wreck, mouth red and shiny from kissing. “I mean I’m staying in Hook. I won’t leave you. I can’t.”
His statements were little iron hooks digging into her organs. “Don’t make promises in the heat of the moment. You’re too good a person not to keep them.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that.” A line formed between his eyebrows. “What about the part when I told you I love you, Jas? Let me know if you’re planning on ignoring it, so I can say the words again. And again. Until you can’t.”
He wasn’t going to make this easy. Had there been any doubt of that? Since he’d arrived, he’d come at her like a freight train, giving her no escape paths or places to burrow. “I heard you. I also heard you say always.”
“That’s right.”
Jasmine expelled a quick breath, immediately wanting to draw it back into her lungs. She couldn’t spare any oxygen when Sarge was sucking it all up. “You’ve been gone for four years. I’m not the same girl you think you love.”
“Bullshit. You are that girl. Just like there’s still some of the old Sarge still trapped inside me. We don’t get away from our pasts, and if I’ve learned one damn thing, it’s that we shouldn’t always try. Not when they’re the only thing that ever made you feel right.”
“No!” The word emerged as a shout, laced with panic. Everything he said was designed to pull her under the surface, but she needed to kick for them both. Sarge was too young, too good, too everything to realize he was trying to doom himself. “I can’t live up to the idea you have of me. I’m sorry, but you want something I can’t give.”
His hands slid down her arms and crashed onto the metal buffet. “Dammit, Jasmine. You’re not giving either of us enough credit. You are that girl I loved. But you’re also this woman I love, and I want her, too. This woman who doesn’t blink at a bar fight. This woman whose voice got even more beautiful than the one I hear in my dreams. This woman I’m looking at right now. I need her.”
Jasmine respected him all the more for making the point, but his astuteness did nothing to aid her cause. She couldn’t allow his convenient logic to penetrate. There would be other logic later. Different points. But one truth wouldn’t change—she didn’t belong with him. “You should have told me from the beginning how you felt. This isn’t fair.” Sarge held fast when she tried to slide off the buffet. “You let me think this was casual, but it wasn’t. Not for you.”
“You’re right.” His thumb brushed over her knee. “You’re right about that. I should have been honest. I can’t find it in me to be sorry, though, Jasmine. Not when I know you feel something. Not when I know staying is the right thing.”
Staying. The right thing. That’s what it all came down to. Sarge’s heart had always been on display, so apparent in everything he did. She would be no different. A responsibility he smiled through. People would laugh at their age difference, call him a fool for giving up the musician lifestyle to be with a woman seven years his senior. Eventually he would listen to the naysayers. No matter how well he hid his resentment, it would be there. Over turning down the contract, tossing away his chance at even greater success. God, it would kill her knowing she’d held him back. Forced him to squander his potential. The way she’d done.
“I’m sorry, I…” The words got lodged in her throat. He wouldn’t listen to reason, so she had to be firm. Harsh. Already what came next haunted her, even with their bodies still joined. Swallowing the broken sound shivering up her throat, Jasmine wrestled with his grip until she could bypass Sarge, stooping down to pick up her jeans. “I’m sorry, I’m bowing out. I never would have let this happen if I thought you would want a relationship out of it.”
When Jasmine straightened, Sarge was right behind her. “You don’t think I see what you’re doing?” He dragged her back against his chest, mouth pressed to her ear. “The man who loves you isn’t afraid of a fight. Just tell me what I’m up against so I can knock it the fuck down.”
It took a strength of will she’d never experienced to remain upright. To resist turning in Sarge’s arms and confessing her doubts. Laying them on his doorstep and seeing what he could do with them. As if she didn’t know. He would obliterate them somehow. For the moment. But they would grow back stronger and more insistent once time had a chance to pass. Once the outside world began to intrude. “Let me go.”