Explosive (The Black Opals)

by St. Claire, Tori

  Behind her, Jayce curved around her back. His knuckles brushed her bottom as he took his cock in hand and eased it between her cheeks once more. A strange infusion of warmth followed his slow, slick glide. Warming oil, she rationalized an instant before the heat consumed her and she let out a throaty groan.

  Arching toward Jayce, craving the feel of his hands on her, she distanced her upper body from Brice and thrust her hips once more toward Jayce. He pushed against her tight rosette, stilled as his thick girth stretched her and she whimpered. Brief, uncharacteristic uncertainty filled his voice. “If it’s too painful—”

  “No,” she choked out. “Don’t stop.”

  As if he didn’t believe she knew what she could handle, he remained unmoving, seemingly content to let Brice slide in and out, gliding her along on a ribbon of sensation that didn’t come close to satisfying her unrelenting need. Jayce casually stroked her hip, dusted fleeting kisses from one shoulder to the other.

  “Damn it, Jayce.” She gripped Brice’s bicep so hard her nails cut crescent moons in his skin. “Don’t stop.” Wriggling against the wide head of him, she pushed him deeper by another inch.

  A shudder wracked his body, and his sharp intake of air sent chills coursing through her. She felt him stiffen, felt the sheer control he required to push forward slowly, as opposed to driving in hard and fast. He stretched her bit by bit, and her body struggled to accommodate his wide girth. Flashes of pain mingled with scalding pleasure.

  Jayce pulled back, withdrawing through her tight channel. Frustration mounted until she wanted to scream against it. But before she could scold, before she could issue a sharp demand for him to continue, he pushed forward, gliding home until he was seated as deeply as he could go.

  A long, low moan slid past Alyssa’s lips. The white-hot sear of expanding muscle gave way to a far more sharp yearning. Every particle of her awareness honed in on the way her body pulsed in pleasant, painful, satisfaction. Deep within her narrow rear channel, she felt the throb of Jayce’s pulse, absorbed the way he swelled even more.

  “Alyssa…” Whatever he intended to say got lost in his hoarse groan. Then, clamping a hand into her hip, he silenced the sound by sinking his teeth into her shoulder, and he withdrew, urging her body into motion.

  Along with Brice’s.

  She moved between them, taking one fully as she released the other. They pushed her toward the high plateau of mind-numbing sensation with each thrust, each retreat. Ecstasy crested.

  “Aw, hell,” Brice muttered. “I’m not going to last.”

  He pushed in again with more force, and hit her high and hard. She cried out against a wave of fiery bliss, and Brice’s body turned to stone.

  “Shit.” Groaning, he fisted a hand in her hair and dragged her mouth to his. There was nothing gentle about his kiss, nothing remotely kind. He ravaged her mouth heedlessly as his body convulsed. Her own shuddered, longing to join him in sweet release.

  Behind her, Jayce increased his tempo. He fitted his hand into the narrow space that separated her chest from Brice’s and cupped her breast, squeezing the way she had always loved. Hard enough she could feel him. Gentle enough no true pain accompanied the grip of his fingers.

  It was enough to send her spiraling over the edge, and she grasped his hand, clenching it tight as dizziness infused her mind. Dimly, she heard his hoarse shout, felt his cock swell and pulse within her rear. But the precise words he uttered were drowned-out by the ringing in her ears and the weightlessness that settled into her body. She clung to his hand, lost to brief oblivion.

  T w e l v e

  Jayce lay on his side, Alyssa’s soft and pliant body tucked against him. The feel of her silken skin, the sound of her level breathing filled a part of him he hadn’t truly realized was still empty. For the first time in too many years to count, he was relaxed, content even. ’Course he’d come so hard it was no wonder his bones felt like jelly. But then, he couldn’t count how long it had been since he’d orgasmed so uncontrollably either. Alyssa had let go, and he’d shattered right along with her.

  Nothing would complete tonight like falling asleep with her in his arms. Hell, he was so damned tired and numb he’d like nothing more than to drift off to dreams. Wake up in the morning, roll her over, take her the way he should have tonight, with her pussy clamping around his cock as climax claimed them both.

  But the man stretched out on her opposite side made falling asleep impossible. This hadn’t been a reunion. It was sex. Pure, unadulterated fucking that satisfied a physical need they both shared. It couldn’t be anything else with Brice occupying the same bed.

  Alyssa snuggled deeper into the bed with a contented sigh. She tipped her chin up, and although Jayce couldn’t see her expression, he knew she was looking into Brice’s eyes by the smile that touched the corners of his mouth. Brice smoothed her hair and brushed a kiss across her lips.

  Jayce hated that intimacy. It burned through his veins like backwoods moonshine. His stomach twisted like he’d just chugged a gallon of the unfiltered rot-gut. How in the hell had Brice gained the right to know her secrets?

  What the hell was he doing here watching the way they communicated without saying anything at all?

  Gritting his teeth, he rolled onto his opposite side and sat up. He wouldn’t. He flat-out refused to lay still and pretend everything was hunky-dory between the three of them, when he wanted to drag Alyssa out of this room and as far away from McTavish as several dozen oceans would allow.

  He swiped his jeans off the floor, rose, disposed of his condom, and tugged his pants on. Alyssa twisted her shoulders to look at him. He spared her only a glance before he snatched his shirt up as well.

  “Where are you going?” she asked with a touch of puzzlement.

  Jayce dragged his shirt over his head. “To Jordan’s.”

  “Jayce—”

  “Save it, McTavish,” he muttered as he fumbled with his socks.

  Scooting into a sitting position, Alyssa frowned. “You’re…leaving?”

  As Jayce stuffed his feet into his boots, he glanced at McTavish. The man knew—it was written all over his face. Chagrin shadowed his eyes; his refusal to make eye-contact made it clear McTavish fully comprehended he was plowing fields that didn’t belong to him. That he refused to man-up and face Jayce only pissed Jayce off.

  “Yeah, I’m leaving,” Jayce muttered. He didn’t know what disgusted him more—that he’d allowed desire to sway him into this fucked up triangle, or that he wanted Alyssa for himself. Just as he had no business being here right now, he had no business wanting to rekindle things with her. She’d torn him apart once. In his world, mistakes didn’t happen twice. Not unless someone had a death wish.

  “But I thought…”

  “You thought what?” Jayce snapped as he patted his rear pocket to check the wallet that wasn’t stuffed where it should have been. He must have left it in the car. His keys however…He glanced around the shadowy room.

  When his gaze skimmed back over Alyssa, her frown had deepened. McTavish wisely stayed quiet. Good thing, because Jayce didn’t trust himself to not unleash on his former best friend. Where the hell were his keys?

  “I just thought—”

  “Things were different?” A flash of silver near the door revealed his keys, and Jayce stalked to them. He snatched them off the floor and clenched them in a tight fist. “You got what you wanted, Alyssa. There’s no need for me to stay.” Reigning in all his frustration, annoyance, and the dozen other indefinable emotions that vied for dominance, he fell back on his training and forced his expression to smooth into detachment. “This is what it is. I fucked you. You came. So did I.” He gave her a casual shrug. “Now I’m going to my sister’s.”

  Before her wounded expression could deal damage to his soul, he walked out of the room. He’d hate himself in the morning for cutting her to the quick, but right now he needed his anger to make it out the door. If he didn’t distance himself from Alyssa, he’d do somet
hing foolish like fall on his knees and beg her to explain where they had gone so absolutely wrong.

  Beg her to tell him what had happened to their child.

  He stalked out the front door and breathed deeply. The cool night air helped to soothe his agitation. What a damned fool he was. He’d known this would happen, sensed if he had another taste of her that it would never be enough. And no amount of logic in this world explained how he could want someone who so obviously hadn’t wanted him. Not for keeps anyway. Maybe for a good romp in the sack, but not for anything that truly mattered.

  Jayce unlocked his vehicle, opened the door, and ducked his head inside to sift through the console in search of his wallet. When his search revealed nothing but receipts and a couple crumpled napkins, he hung his head with a heavy sigh. His damned wallet was somewhere up in that bedroom. Hell would produce icicles before he went back inside tonight to fetch it. He’d have to come back tomorrow. When she wasn’t here.

  Then he’d be done with Alyssa Martin once and for all.

  He slid behind the wheel and keyed the ignition.

  * * *

  Knees drawn up to her chest, Alyssa huddled into herself and stared at the empty side of the bed. What had she been thinking? Better yet, what had she done? It had all seemed so perfect, so amazing. But the aftermath—God, the aftermath sucked. The coldness of Jayce’s words, the absolute lack of emotion he showed. She’d pushed him, achieved what she desired, and there was no mistaking tonight had been nothing but physical for him. She hadn’t expected, or even desired, ties of obligation. But a little affection in these quiet moments would have been nice.

  Brice’s warm palm smoothed down the curve of her spine. “Hey. You know how he is. Don’t let him get to you. Things will be okay once morning comes.”

  Alyssa shook her head. “No. He’s never been like that. It was like nothing even happened here.”

  Gathering her into his arms, Brice cradled her close and sprinkled soft kisses across her hair. “It happened. And it was pretty damned incredible.” He eased onto his back, taking her with him, tucking her into the security of his embrace. The familiar comfort of his arms holding her close, his heart beating against hers.

  She pressed her fingertips to his chest, grateful that he didn’t seem inclined to leave her to sleep alone. But then, his willingness to stay shouldn’t surprise her. He always stayed when he sensed she needed companionship. On a few occasions, she’d even awakened to find him tucked in beside her, his presence prompted by some nightmare she wasn’t fully aware she’d been having. He always seemed to know what she needed, even when she didn’t want to admit those needs to herself.

  And somehow, lying in the quiet with Brice eased the cuts on her heart Jayce’s abrupt departure created. She didn’t love this man the way she had always loved Jayce, and she never would. But Brice was safe, and he offered a certain security she hadn’t been able to find elsewhere since the long ago night of her brutal attack.

  She dusted a kiss over one smooth pectoral. “Thank you.”

  Brice’s embrace tightened. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  Alyssa let out a soft laugh. “Somehow, I doubt most everyone else includes this in the definition of friends.”

  His fingers pulled through her hair. Against her forehead, she felt him smile. “I think Jayce is a little upset by our version of friendship.”

  Could he be? He’d never been the jealous sort. True, he had his moments of possessiveness, but never offensively. Then again, a lot had changed in ten years. She had changed. She supposed he had too.

  “You’re going to have to talk to him, babe. If you want him to understand this, you’re going to have to explain.”

  “I can’t.” Doing so would open all those barricades she’d spent so long erecting. No matter how logical it might be, she simply couldn’t go down that road. She’d rather have Jayce’s harsh, unfeeling words and cold distance.

  Brice let out a heavy sigh of resignation, but didn’t argue. He wouldn’t; they’d had this conversation one too many times after she returned to Boulder. She’d been through enough shame, suffered enough nightmares. Her own parents had shunned her, and while Jayce might not put the blame in her hands, she couldn’t cope with those humiliating memories again.

  “Will hot tea help?” He ran his hand down her spine.

  Alyssa shook her head. Brice’s special concoction of hot tea and fresh mint could soothe her nerves like nothing else, but tonight, even it wouldn’t do the trick. “No,” she murmured.

  He affectionately nuzzled her temple. “What can I do to help?”

  “Just hold me,” she whispered.

  “That I can do.” The arm around her waist tightened a fraction before he resumed the lazy stroking of her back. “Anytime.”

  Alyssa lay in his comforting embrace, trying to tune out the racket in her head. Times like this she treasured the closeness they shared, the bonds that tied them together. It was so simple. So undemanding.

  The gentle glide of Brice’s hand over the length of her back lulled her into drowsiness. She closed her eyes, pushed the uncomfortable truths aside, and allowed the gentle caress to erase the discomfort of how tonight concluded. The sounds of nighttime filtered through her closed window. An alley cat yowled in the yard. Distantly, a dog barked. The purr of an engine as a car drove down the street echoed quietly through the room.

  A heavy thump sounded from somewhere downstairs.

  Alyssa’s eyes snapped open. She lifted her head off the pillow. “What was that?”

  Brice rose to one elbow, a frown marring his forehead. He glanced at the door then shrugged and settled back into the bed, gathering her back into his arms. “Jayce probably forgot something.”

  Unease crept through Alyssa. “The front door. He has no way to lock it.”

  “I’ll get it in a bit. Just go to sleep, babe. You need to relax.” He gave her a smile and pushed a hunk of her hair out of her face. “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep here tonight.”

  “Promise?”

  Brice nodded. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone tonight.”

  “Maybe we should go look downstairs, just in case.”

  “It’s quiet now, isn’t it? It was probably just the front door banging. You know how easily it slams.”

  Alyssa slowly laid her head back on his shoulder. She wanted to believe him, but there was something off in his tone of voice. A bit too much confidence, maybe? Or had he hesitated a fraction too long before answering?

  Don’t be a goose.

  “You’re doing it again,” Brice whispered. “Letting your mind run away with things. Relax, babe.” He drew his fingers through her hair and wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve got you.”

  She drew in a deep breath, held it for a count of five, and released it slowly to stave off the rise of panic. This was precisely why she shouldn’t become tangled up in Jayce again. He opened the door, and the horrors of ten years ago came barging through, waiting to catch her by surprise and leap from shadows.

  But what if Brice was wrong? What if that wasn’t Jayce shutting the front door? What if someone was in their house? Parker had threatened her; maybe he’d decided to make sure she would see things his way. Maybe he was downstairs now, sifting through her files in her office, searching for the records she’d refused to turn over.

  Her heart stuttered erratically. As an iron fist wrapped around her lungs, she clutched at Brice’s bicep.

  “Easy,” he murmured as he draped his leg over hers and trapped her against his body. “If I thought it was something to be concerned about, I wouldn’t still be here in this bed.”

  Too afraid that arguing would force him into going downstairs to investigate, leaving her completely alone with the possibility of someone being in their house, Alyssa nodded. She couldn’t ask him to go look for fear he might actually be wrong.

  Damn Jayce for bringing this all back front and center. Damn him for reawakening the nightmares she’d strug
gled for so long to forget.

  T h i r t e e n

  Dawn came entirely too early for Jayce. He rolled over against the sunlight with a muffled groan, protesting the way he ached from head to toe. All night he relived Alyssa’s impassioned cries. All night he replayed the way her body welcomed his. He could still hear her ragged voice, calling out his name as she trembled against his tongue.

  Poison. Alyssa Martin was poison.

  He pushed himself out of bed, determined to ignore the heavy weight of his erection beneath his cotton sleep pants. Poison she might be, but damned she was sweet. And he was as addicted as he’d ever been.

  Jayce jerked open his bedroom door and trudged to the bathroom for a hot shower. Thumping and clattering came from the kitchen, telling him his sister was awake. Cooking? That ought to be interesting. Last he knew, Jordan couldn’t microwave frozen pizza without setting off the smoke detectors. He sure hoped things had changed; he was starving, and in no mood to fix her failed attempt over a stove. He’d rather take them both out for greasy fast food.

  Not that he was any better in the kitchen, but at least his meager knowledge lent to edible food.

  Alyssa on the other hand—she’d always been natural.

  With a heavy sigh, Jayce spun on the faucets. His wallet was still somewhere in her bedroom. Which meant he couldn’t avoid her until he left town. Damn it. But maybe if he timed it right he could catch McTavish there, much as he wanted to see him even less than Alyssa, and wouldn’t have to confront her at all.

  He eased beneath the steamy spray and leaned against the tiled wall, closing his eyes. No job he’d done, no amount of undercover work, had ever been as difficult as walking out of her room pretending indifference. He ached to hold her, as nonsensical as it was. Just for a few minutes, with nothing between them but the easy comfort they’d once shared. To experience her kiss and get lost in all the crazy passion she so easily awakened inside him.