“I can’t get to sleep.”
“Join the club,” he muttered, running a rough hand through his hair. “But, um, you don’t want to be in here with me right now.”
“I don’t?” This was exactly where she wanted to be.
His hand dropped. “You look really good in that shirt.”
She glanced down at herself. After he’d run Davis out of the guest bedroom, Brodie had brought her a shirt to sleep in—one of his US Navy shirts. It fell to her knees, seemed to swallow her.
It smelled liked him. Maybe that was why she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head.
Or maybe there were other reasons.
“Go back to your room, Jennifer.” His voice was low, hard.
She didn’t move. “You asked me before...why the connection was this way between us.” She’d wondered about it, too. Why they touched and truly seemed to ignite.
But maybe they shouldn’t question the connection. Maybe they should just enjoy it. Life was short and brutal, and moments of perfect pleasure were too rare.
“I want you,” she told him, the words a soft confession. “When we touch, when we kiss...” Her voice faded away. She didn’t even know how to explain her feelings.
He walked toward her. His hand lifted and cupped her chin.
And she realized that she didn’t have to explain. His eyes were bright with the same passion she felt.
Her fear began to fade away. He had a way of doing that. Of making the danger seem less—of making her feel so safe.
“I want you,” he said, giving her back the same words she’d just spoken to him.
Then his head lowered, and his mouth took hers.
The kiss was soft at first, slow and caressing. As if he was afraid of frightening her. But she wasn’t afraid of his desire or of her own.
Her hands curled around his shoulders. Her mouth pressed harder to his, and just like that—they ignited.
Need ripped through her body. Her heart thundered in her chest. She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her nails bit into his skin, even as her body pressed tightly to his.
A growl built in his throat. Then he was lifting her up, holding her easily in his arms. His mouth didn’t leave hers. He kept kissing her, and the desire inside Jennifer wound tighter and tighter.
He took a few steps, then lowered her onto the bed. The soft mattress dipped beneath her. Brodie eased back a bit. He stripped the shirt off her and tossed it across the room. She still wore her bra and panties, and his gaze slowly slid over her body. His eyes were bright with desire, and his stare lingered on her breasts. Her hips.
“You are so beautiful.”
He made her feel that way.
His fingers eased under her body, and he unhooked her bra. She was pretty sure he tossed it somewhere, too, but Jennifer wasn’t exactly paying attention. His mouth was on her breast. His tongue stroked her, and her body arched off the bed toward him as a dark desire surged through her.
His hand eased down her stomach. Touching, caressing. And he kept kissing her breasts. Stroking her with his mouth and tongue until Jennifer thought she’d go out of her mind.
“Brodie!” Right after she called out his name, Jennifer bit her lip, worried that she’d been too loud, worried Davis might hear them.
Brodie’s head lifted. “I like it when you say my name like that.” His hand flattened on her stomach. “Davis is on the other side of the ranch house. He can’t hear you. Every sound you make...it’s all for me.”
He began to kiss his way down her stomach, then he paused, his mouth hovering over the scar on her right side. The knife wound.
“I’ll find the SOB,” Brodie promised, and he pressed a kiss to that scar. “He won’t ever hurt you again.”
His tenderness caught her off guard. She’d expected the storm of passion, but that gentleness? Jennifer wasn’t sure how to handle that care. He made her feel uncertain, vulnerable.
Her hands slid down his chest. Down, down, until she found the button on his jeans. She popped open that button and eased down his zipper.
His hands closed around hers.
“I don’t want to wait,” Jennifer told him, her voice husky. “I need you. Now.”
There was too much darkness in her life. She needed the wild rush that Brodie could give to her.
He pulled away her panties. She shoved down his jeans. Brodie spent a few moments taking care of the protection for them; then he was back, settling between her thighs.
Her legs wrapped around him, and he thrust into her. Her breath caught then as her gaze locked with his. She wanted to freeze that one moment in time, to hold it close to her heart, to remember it always.
Passion and pleasure...to protect her from the fear.
But he was withdrawing, thrusting again, and the rhythm grew out of control as they raced toward release.
She’d thought the pleasure they’d shared before had been good.
She’d been wrong. This was beyond good. Beyond anything she’d felt before.
When the climax hit her, the waves seemed to consume her whole body. Brodie stiffened and whispered her name. Then he was kissing her. She could taste his pleasure and her own, and she never, ever wanted the moment to end.
Pleasure shouldn’t be fleeting. It should last longer than the pain.
Pain is always with me.
Aftershocks trembled through her. Her body quivered.
Then his head lifted. He smiled at her. Such a tender, sensual smile on the face of a man who was so dangerous.
His lips brushed over hers, and the pleasure began to build again.
* * *
JENNIFER PICKED UP her shirt from the floor. She looked back over her shoulder, but Brodie hadn’t stirred on the bed. Part of her—a very big part—wanted to stay with him. To still be in his arms when the sun rose.
But she was afraid that she might have given too much of herself to Brodie during those hot, wicked hours. Jennifer felt vulnerable, lost, and she needed time to get her guard in place again.
When she left the room, Jennifer tried to be as quiet as possible. In the hallway, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, and she froze, but there was no sound from Brodie’s room. Breathing slowly, carefully, she made her way into the room she’d been given.
Jennifer shut the guest room door, then leaned back against the wooden frame.
A tear slipped down her cheek. Sometimes, it was so hard to remember that she couldn’t have the things other women possessed.
Like a lover who cherishes me.
Because none of her lovers had ever known who she really was. They’d just seen an image she presented. None of her friends knew who she was. No one knew the real woman hiding behind the mask.
Sometimes, Jennifer wondered if she even knew herself.
* * *
WHEN HE HEARD the creak of the floor, Brodie’s eyes opened.
She’d run from him.
Just when he thought that Jennifer was letting him get close. Two steps forward...fifty back.
He rolled over. The bed smelled of her. Sweet lavender. And he could still feel her against him. Silken skin.
Jennifer could run for now. It wasn’t like she’d get far, not while he had her in his house and under his protection.
* * *
SUNLIGHT TRICKLED THROUGH her window. The day had finally dawned. A soft knock sounded at Jennifer’s door. She’d been awake for a while, lying in that bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering just how much she should reveal to Brodie. After last night, she knew things would be different between them. He’d expect answers. He’d deserve them.
When she heard the knock, Jennifer hurriedly pulled on her clothes and rushed to the door. She took a deep, fortifying breath and opened the door. My mask is back in place.
“Morning,” Brodie’s voice was low, and his stare seemed guarded.
Jennifer tried to offer him a tentative smile. “Good morning.” The words came out way too husky. She just couldn’t look at him without remembering what they’d done last night. She was sore in spots because of what they’d done.
He lifted some clothing toward her. “I, uh, I figured you’d want some fresh clothes.”