by Angel Smits
Jason chuckled. She looked cute when she blushed. He had just enough time to grab clothes from the closet and cover the important parts. He was pulling his shirt on when she opened the door.
She’d never find her way back without help. She’d be covered in bruises if she hit any more walls. He hustled, barefoot, his shirt hanging open, and met her in the doorway. He touched her arm, and she let him guide her to the sink. By feel, she found the faucet and soap. He waited patiently, watching her, enjoying the view.
Even hindered with the cast, and unable to see, her movements were smooth and graceful. It was a bit disconcerting to watch her this way. He could look his fill, and he did. She had to know he was watching her. So why did he feel like a voyeur?
Even sleep-mussed, without all the trappings of makeup and done-up hair, she was beautiful. Her hair hung to her hips in thick copper waves that had his fingers itching to touch. He didn’t dare. He might never let her go.
The simple nightgown scooped low on her chest, clinging to curves he’d barely had the chance to explore. The other night in her office seemed like years ago.
Like most women, Lauren probably wouldn’t believe him if he told her how pretty she looked. It didn’t matter, though, since he couldn’t tell her much of anything right now.
Not with words, anyway.
He intended to guide her back to the bed, but somehow, his fingers made a side trip to slip a stray curl behind her ear. The skin of her cheek was soft as down. Jason let his fingers linger.
Lauren leaned into his touch.
“J-a-s-o-n,” she signed, then she swallowed hard. “I—” She tapped her chest, and then stopped. She tilted her head up, as if she could see him. Slowly, she reached out and touched her fingertips to his chest. Her fingers were small and cool against his bare skin. At first she froze, then slowly, painfully slowly, she slid her fingers upward, over his shoulder, along his neck to his still-rough jaw. She lingered there, her palm grazing his chin as her thumb slid enticingly over his lips.
Jason doubted she realized her tiny pink tongue came out just then to run a damp trail over her own lips. Anticipation?
His heartbeat quickened, and while her hand was no longer against his chest, she had to feel the vibration that shook his entire body. After a couple of deep breaths to try and still it, he took her arm to lead her out of the intimacy of the bathroom.
But she didn’t move. And he didn’t guide her away. Instead, he pulled her against him, her warmth so sweet and soft. She was small, and while he leaned down, she still wasn’t close enough. He bent and slipped his arm beneath her knees and lifted her up against his chest. He’d carry her back to his bed, rather than let her stumble around.
The cast rested solidly against his shoulder, but her other arm curled snugly around his neck, and she slid her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.
Jason should take a step, or two. He really should. But her lips were so close.
Lauren tilted her head and laid it against his shoulder. He called himself every kind of jerk for thinking about carrying her to his bed to do more than lay her safely down on the rumpled sheets—
Until her lips moved. Hot and soft against his neck, up along his jaw. Her tongue came out to taste him, tease him, torment him.
All he had to do was tilt his head just...so...
She tasted of early morning and sunshine—her lips soft and warm and welcoming. At first, he felt her thank you—but this was not simply a thank-you kiss. This was something more, something he craved and ached for.
Standing there, with her plastered across his chest, all the want he’d held back leapt to the surface. He was a man lost. Lost to Lauren’s touch and his own desire.
* * *
LAUREN FELT THE groan in Jason’s throat and his fast, hot breath brush over her skin. Though she couldn’t see him, she had the taste, feel and scent of him. She’d never felt more a part of another person.
Her fingers moved, spelling absently against his neck, “L-o-v-e m-e.” But even that thought process vanished as he kissed her. Long and deep.
Then suddenly, they were moving. Cool air wafted against her bare legs, and her toes brushed the edge of the door frame. The beat of his footsteps felt steady and strong. The bed’s smooth sheets were cool against her back as he laid her down.
His bed.
She’d slept with Jason two nights in a row now. And he hadn’t been inappropriate. Hadn’t touched her. Hadn’t—anything.
Had she misread the signals?
No. He wanted her. His heart beating furiously against her hand was proof.
Lauren slid her hand down, and felt the edge of his open shirt brush across her fingertips. She curled her fingers around the fabric.
She couldn’t hold on to him and sign. Slowly, she pulled him closer, finding those sweet, firm lips again. Then she let her hand move, and in the center of his chest, where his heart pounded, she signed. “Love me. Stay with me. Want you.”
Did he understand her? Would he—
The bed moved as he moved. What was he doing? Leaving? No, please.
Two big strong hands curled around her shoulders and gently pushed her back against the pillows. Disappointment lived for only an instant as those hands moved gently upward, caressing her neck, cupping her chin until his lips returned to hers.
Lauren melted into him, encircling his neck with her arm and guiding him back down to her. His body, hot and hard, settled over hers, pressing her down into the mattress, cocooning her in the scent of him.
She opened her lips for him, the feel of his tongue against hers insistent. As she slid her bare legs along his, the deep vibration of his groan shook her.
Her hand moved along the muscles of his back, exploring, touching, yet impatient. She tugged at the waistband of his jeans, hoping he understood.
His mouth left hers, traveling slowly down where his hands had been. She wore a simple nightgown and until this instant, she’d completely forgotten what she had on. With such a gentle touch, his fingertips grazed her collarbone, then slid over the exposed skin above her neckline, to dip inside and slowly, oh-so-slowly, slide into the valley between her breasts.
She hadn’t worn a bra since they’d taken her smoke-permeated clothing at the hospital. She hadn’t given it much thought, having slept most of the time since. Now she was glad for the lack of clothing.
His finger moved lazily to the right, then the left, teasing her, each time moving a little bit closer to the peak. Her skin tightened to the point of being nearly painful.
Then suddenly, it wasn’t his finger teasing her, but the damp of his tongue. He slid the strap of her gown off her shoulder, and she nearly leapt off the bed as his lips closed over her nipple, tasting, teasing, pushing her to the edge.
She burrowed her fingers into his still-damp hair, holding him tight, silently begging him to never stop.
He moved away, slipping from her grasp. She wanted to protest, and then the fabric of her nightgown whispered lower, slipping off, the silky fabric a caress in itself.
She knew it was morning since he’d showered. Was there much light in the room? She remembered a set of windows along the wall. Could he see her?
The idea of him watching her made her self-conscious as much as it sent a thrill through her. He was close, she felt his body heat. Was he looking...? Watching?
His hand settled on her hip, hot, scalding, then slid up over the curve of her waist, to tickle her ribs, then finally cup her breast. She arched into his palm, her breath quickly in and out, adding to the friction of his touch.
And then he was gone again. She reached out to find him, intent on pulling him back. His touch returned, as he put his hand in hers. Slowly, he spelled, making her stop and focus on the shapes his fingers made.
“Y-o-u s-u-r-e?”
She nodded, reaching out to follow the shape of his shoulders to the collar of his shirt. She pushed his shirt off, the fabric wilting lifelessly without his shape to fill it. She tossed it to the floor.
His laughter shook the bed. In response, he took her hand again, guiding her fingers to the waistband of his jeans.
Her entire body tingled. Carefully, she pushed the metal button through the thick denim, the zipper grinding against her fingers. The back of her fingers brushed hot, hard skin. And she melted.
Tugging his loosened jeans, Lauren hoped he understood she wanted him to help. One-handed, she couldn’t take them off—and she needed them off. Now. She signed, “Off.”
Cool air brushed her skin when he moved away. What if he changed his mind? She couldn’t reach for him if she couldn’t find him. Where was...?
The bed shifted as Jason stretched out beside her. Heat rolled off him. Sweet heat. Unable to resist, she reached out, her hand finding him. She’d just leaned over when his arms slid around her. Running his hand first up, then down her back, he pressed her against him, molding each inch tightly to him.
And then he kissed her. Hard. His lips drank in everything she gave, and she gave it all.
She’d had lovers before, but none had made her feel so overwhelmed—and yet Lauren didn’t feel lost. She felt cherished. This was where she belonged.
His touch was gentle, yet urgent. She needed more. This time when he pulled away, she greedily curled her fingers around his bicep.
He turned away, keeping one leg next to hers as if he understood her confusion. She felt movement, but couldn’t tell what he was doing. And then he took her hand in his, placing a square packet in her palm.
* * *
THOUGH THE ROOM was nearly dark, some light slipped in from the hall and around the curtain’s edge. Jason could barely make out Lauren’s face, but he saw the comprehension dawn on it. He cursed the bandages that hid her beautiful eyes, but the way she gathered her bottom lip between her teeth told him she knew. The way she tore the packet open told him she wanted this.
Jason reached to take the condom from her, only to be met with a hearty shake of her head and the determined touch of her hands on him. He nearly roared aloud with the pleasure of her covering him, slowly, gently, protecting herself at the same time she nearly pushed him to his release.
There was no more waiting. He had to be in her. Had to feel her around him.
Pushing her back again, he rose above her, wishing he could see her more clearly. Aching for her to see him. He hesitated, wanting to be with her completely. His heartbeat shook them both, and her breath whispered over him. He held back as long as he could, waiting, wishing.
Suddenly, she planted her hand in the middle of his chest, the plaster cast solid and definitely immovable. He dragged deep breaths into his lungs. If she said no now, he’d stop. It would kill him, but he’d respect her wishes.
Using her good hand, she tugged at the medical tape at the edge of the bandages.
“No,” he said then cursed the silence. Was it dark enough that her eyes wouldn’t hurt? He didn’t know. He understood her need to see, yet fear nearly made him pull away.
Lauren tugged the bandages off, and, blinking rapidly, she looked up at him. He’d almost forgotten how beautiful, how deep, how expressive her eyes were. He couldn’t look away. He didn’t ever want to.
She pulled her arm back and slid her uninjured arm around his neck, curling her legs around his hips, urging him closer.
Gently, he waited, poised until he knew he couldn’t wait any more. She trembled against him, and he was done. With one hard thrust, he was deep inside her. Soft heat engulfed him as he moved, faster, harder. She matched his movements with the same urgency, driving him to the edge.
And then she fell over it. Her eyes drifted closed, and she arched into him, into his release as she tightened around him. And he kissed her.
* * *
SHE KISSED HIM BACK, deep and hot, finding a second release as he filled her. Would she ever come back to earth again? She hoped not. She didn’t ever want to.
Carefully opening her eyes, Lauren still had her arm around him—his big body still covered hers. She didn’t want to lose this connection.
Jason lifted his head, but otherwise didn’t move. Slowly, he kissed each of her eyelids. The tenderness melted her heart and in that instant, she knew she’d fallen head over heels for this man.
All the things he’d done for her filled her mind. He was learning sign for her. He’d saved her from the fire and cared for her afterward. He’d taken Tina out of a bad situation. He’d befriended Dylan and Maxine. And he’d made such sweet love to her.
Her vision was still blurred, but with what little light there was, she stared up at him, never wanting to look away.
And then he sealed the deal. He smiled at her. She’d never seen anything more wonderful. She had to have more, had to taste that happiness.
She knew then that she’d spend a lifetime never getting enough.
* * *
SOMETHING BUZZED. In the distance. Growing louder. Finally, Jason woke up. His phone. The one he’d sent Susan after to replace the one lost in the fire. It was vibrating against something. Somewhere. He hadn’t set any ringtone.
With a curse, he hustled into the living room to grab it, feeling like an idiot when he realized it didn’t matter. The sound wouldn’t wake Lauren. “Hello?”
“What in the world are you thinking?” Addie’s voice came loud and clear through the phone.
Jason smiled as he went back into the bedroom to grab his discarded jeans.
She couldn’t see him, but somehow talking to his sister in the buff didn’t feel right. “Hold on a second.” He put the phone down and pulled jeans and a T-shirt on. “Okay, I’m back.”
His oldest sister had always been a morning person, and he wasn’t surprised that she was calling now. She often tried to catch him before he left for the office. She wouldn’t know he wasn’t going in today.
She wasn’t a chatterer, like Tara or Mandy. She was the oldest, and was always in business mode. Even at DJ and Tammie’s wedding, she’d let loose only so much. Briefly, he wondered if she’d ever let go and let herself fall in love. He couldn’t remember her dating much in high school or since. Frowning, he walked back onto the balcony.
Addie’s heart was in the right place, but she was never one to back off when she had a bone to pick. And she never called him without said bone in place.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she prompted too casually. He looked at the phone, then glanced back at the bedroom. Could she know? No.
“At the moment? Nothing. Thinking about having a cup of coffee.” He knew that was an answer that would have gotten him a smack on the head years back. Now his older sister was a thousand miles away and couldn’t touch him. Besides, he had no clue what she was talking about—the list of possibilities was too long right now.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Wyatt says you’re working for the Haymakers.”
“Sort of.” That was still not an answer she’d like, but it was all he had.
“Dang it, Jason.” He could hear her footsteps as she paced. “I thought you weren’t going to.”
“I never said that.”
“Well, you should have.”
Jason laughed. “I’m glad I didn’t.” Lauren’s face came to mind. “Did Wyatt happen to mention Lauren?”
“Uh—the—ballet dancer? Uhm, yes.” The silence was uncomfortable.
“It’s okay, Ad. You can mention it. Yes, she’s deaf.”
“I... Jason, is she really Pal’s daughter?”
He wasn’t sure which part concerned Addie more. “What’s really going on, Ad?” He didn’t want to argue with his sister, nor did he feel as if he n
eeded to justify his actions. She’d never stopped trying to be a mother to all of them, but something about all this was off.
“I just worry.” She took a deep breath. “Trey Haymaker’s resurfaced and he’s been running his mouth off and...”
There was a tremor in Addie’s voice and Jason’s senses went on high alert. “What happened, Addie? Tell me.”
“I—I was at the store yesterday. I didn’t even see him. But he came up to me and grabbed my arm.” Her voice shook, and Jason heard her take yet another deep breath.
“Who? Trey?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Keep going. What did he say?”
“Oh, Jason. I know he wasn’t sober. He reeked of alcohol. I know Trey’s not that kind of person, and in the past he’s been the best of that family.” Her words were rushed, as if she needed to say them quickly to get them out.
Jason took his own deep breath. “Addie. Focus.” He felt like he was interviewing a reluctant witness. “What did he say?”
“He said—he said it so harsh—that he was going to kill her. This Lauren. Then yelled that he would go after you next. He—” Her voice hiccuped. “He was so angry. I’ve never seen him like that.”
Jason froze. The man in the studio hadn’t been Trey, had he? No, Jason was sure of it. Besides how could he be here in LA and there in Texas at nearly the same time? Then again, Trey had enough money to hire someone,
Jason was back to wanting to put his fist through something, or someone. “Did he hurt you?” He knew his anger was clear.
“No. Just squeezed my arm. A...a young man down the aisle was there and interrupted him. Oh, Jason, he seriously scared me.”
As soon as they were off the phone, he would call Wyatt. He needed to keep an eye on Addie—and an eye out for Trey.
The sound of someone knocking on the apartment door made Jason frown. No one knocked on the door. He couldn’t remember anyone he wasn’t expecting ever showing up here. Even packages, which were few and far between, were delivered to his office. Not his apartment.
