Crazy Beautiful: a Redemption novel

by Prince, Jessica

  “Best goddamn thing I’ve ever tasted,” he grunted, licking his lips. My whole body trembled as he put his knees to the mattress and began crawling up, his big frame hovering over mine, making me feel small and delicate. “You protected, sweetheart?”

  My brain wasn’t functioning normally, so all I could do was frown in confusion at his question. “Huh?”

  “Birth control, Poppy. Are you covered? I need to feel all of you,” he continued before I had a chance to answer. “I’m clean. Never had sex without a condom before, and I’ve been tested. If you’re willing, I want to feel you around me with no barrier.”

  “I-I’m on the pill.”

  The look that spread across his face then was something I’d never seen from him before. It was a combination of tender affection and unrestrained need. I’d never felt more beautiful or more desired than when he looked at me like that. “Will you let me have you like that, baby? Nothing between us?”

  My throat had grown so dry, it felt like sandpaper as I spoke. “Yes, honey. I don’t want anything between us either.”

  The sound that came from deep within his chest was so wild, so carnal it was almost enough to make me come all over again.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded, bracing one forearm beside my head as his other hand disappeared between our bodies. I felt the blunt tip of his cock at my opening when he spoke again. “I want to feel those sexy-as-fuck heels digging into my skin when I’m inside you.

  As soon as my ankles hooked at the backs of his thighs, he moved his hand and drove inside, burying himself deep in one powerful thrust.

  He growled and I cried out as he filled me fuller than I’d ever been. The stretch of his thick cock inside me was the best thing I’d ever felt. “Oh God. Yes, baby,” I whimpered, throwing my head back against the bed.

  “Fuuuck,” he gritted. “You feel so good.”

  He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in.

  My body heaved with desire as I shifted up the mattress.

  “You okay?” he asked, pausing to stare down into my eyes. “Am I hurting you?”

  My tongue peeked out, wetting my bottom lip before pulling it between my teeth and biting down. “No, you aren’t hurting me,” I replied, my voice rough and throaty. I brought my hands up to his shoulder, raking my nails down the solid flesh at the same time I dug my heels into his thighs. “Now fuck me. Please.”

  With that, what little control he had left tore to shreds. His hips snapped powerfully, in and out, his thick length brushing against a place inside me that ignited a million tiny fires. “You’re so tight,” he grunted, sweat beading up on his forehead.

  My walls rippled and clenched. I hadn’t thought it possible, but I was already insanely close to coming again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he urged when I panted as much. “I can feel it, so fucking wet. So amazing.”

  I lifted one arm above my head, bracing against the headboard as he surged into me. It had never been this good, not once, and as that coil deep inside me tightened, desperate to snap, my whimpers and moans and pleas became incoherent.

  Jase’s head lowered, his lips clashed with mine, and his tongue dove in, flicking against mine with each thrust of his hips.

  Our mouths remained fused together when he lifted one hand to my breast, kneading the heavy flesh before his thumb and index finger met, giving the turgid nipple a harsh pinch. That was all it took to set me off.

  He swallowed down my cries as I came so hard the edges of my vision began to blur. I was barely out of the throws of the most intense orgasm of my life when he followed me over, burying himself as deep as he could. The cords in his neck strained as he threw his head back and groaned out his release.

  It felt like an eternity passed before either of us was able to speak past our heaving breaths, but when Jase finally righted his head, those golden-flecked eyes locking on mine as he grinned, there was only one thought running through my mind.

  It was going to be damn near impossible not to fall for my husband.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Poppy

  “Goddamn, Flower,” Jase huffed, his chest rubbing against mine as he let loose a short chuckle. “That was out of this fucking world.”

  Now that the drunken haze of lust had finally worn off, I felt that shyness begin to creep back in. My cheeks flushed as a giggle bubbled past my lips. “Glad to be of service.”

  He made a low, sensual sound akin to a purr deep in his throat as he leaned down and nipped my kiss-bruised bottom lip.

  “My wife is a wildcat,” he said teasingly.

  My legs clenched involuntarily at his heady words, and it was only then, when the straps of my amazing shoes pinched my toes, that I realized they were still on my feet.

  “Ouch,” I murmured, straightening one leg and rotating my ankle.

  He twisted his neck to look over his shoulder and flinched. “Shit, sweetheart. Sorry about that.” Then he moved, pulling out of me and sitting back on his haunches. I let out a little mewl at the loss of him, and he looked back at me with a wicked smirk, winking as he took my ankle and began working the clasp on my heel. Once he had them both off, he dug his thumbs into my arches, causing an involuntary groan to slide up my throat. “Better?”

  “Mm hmm,” I hummed with appreciation, letting my eyes fall closed. “Much.”

  After a brief massage, he dropped my feet and the bed shifted under his weight as he climbed out.

  My eyelids flew open, and I watched, curling onto my side for a better view as he sauntered, completely comfortable in his nakedness, into my bathroom.

  At any other time, I probably would have been too lost in the view to think about anything else, but in that moment, my mind was spinning in a million different directions.

  Can we really do this without complicating things?

  How do I stop these feelings rooted in my chest from growing bigger than they already are?

  Did I just make a huge mistake?

  And the biggest, most crucial question of all . . .

  What happens now?

  Disquiet started to seep into my skin as the sound of the tap turning on and off carried in from the bathroom.

  He said this wasn’t going to change things between us. In fact, he stressed that to the point it set me on edge before he kissed me and made all rational thought fly away. Surely that meant, now that we were done, he’d gather his things, and head back to his own room. After all, that was what we’d agreed to wasn’t it?

  My thoughts came full circle on that, leading me right back to the question of whether or not I’d just made a colossal mistake.

  Before I was able to attempt an answer to any of the millions of worries forming inside my head, Jase reappeared, moving to the bed instead of toward his clothes.

  The moment he reached the side, he sat, placing his hand on my knee and applying pressure until I had no choice but to shift and spread my legs.

  He brought the warm, damp washcloth he was holding to the apex of my thighs, where he proceeded to clean himself from my skin.

  The thoughtfulness of that gentle gesture made my eyes sting. I had to blink rapidly against the tears that threatened to form.

  “All good?” he asked, looking to my face, his own expression soft and caring. Unable to speak past the lump that had formed in my throat, I nodded my head on a tremulous smile.

  With my reassurance, he stood from the bed and moved to the hamper against the wall, dropping the cloth inside—a move that would have made the women of the world, every damn one of them, swoon into a puddle of goo. Then, instead of heading for his own room, he hit the light switch by the door, bathing mine in darkness, and came back to me, pulling the covers out from beneath my body, climbing in, and flipping them over the both of us. “Like your room, baby,” he said softly.

  “Thanks,” I returned on a whisper, loving that he liked my slightly girly, slightly more countrified bedroom.

  “And I fucking love your bed.
Soft and comfortable as hell,” he continued as his long arm banded around my waist a moment later and hauled me across the length of the big, spacious bed to the middle.

  With that arm remaining firmly in place, he curled his big, strong body around mine, nuzzled his face in my hair, and proceeded to fall asleep . . .

  Spooning me.

  Jase Hyland was a full contact sleeper. The big spoon to my little. Who would have guessed that?

  And on that thought, I burrowed my head deeper into my pillow and followed him into unconsciousness with the biggest smile on my face.

  * * *

  Jase

  The morning was humid, making the sweat-dampened material of my shirt cling to my sticky skin as I made my way through the dense tree line that bordered Poppy’s property.

  I was used to running on concrete or—if push came to shove—a treadmill, but shortly after moving in, I’d discovered some of the most amazing trails that started near the house and took me through the woods and up into the foothills.

  The dips and steep inclines were more taxing than running through city blocks, but the crisp air and stunning views made my morning runs a million times more enjoyable.

  I ran simply because it was habit. I had started when I was a teenager in need of an outlet for all the anger and rage I had churning inside of me. After one too many fights at school, I’d been threatened with expulsion. Not being allowed that escape from my miserable home life for those seven hours each day wasn’t an option, so I had to find something else, something healthier, to channel all the pain and hatred my parents caused.

  I’d been running for years, even though it wasn’t my favorite activity, but here in Redemption, tucked away around a quaint little inn, I’d discovered my love for it. It had gone from being necessary to a hobby.

  Rounding the L-shaped building that made up Redbud Inn, I spotted Clay’s Bronco and a couple other trucks parked on the slab of blacktop in front of the rooms.

  “Mornin’,” he called when he spotted me, tilting his chin up in greeting.

  I slowed to a jog as I grew closer before finally coming to a stop all together a few feet from him. “Morning.”

  “That was one hell of a party last night, man. Still feelin’ the effects of it now. Took an act of God and a whole pitcher of coffee to drag my ass outta bed.”

  My lips pulled into a grin as I chuckled, reaching up to wipe the sweat off my brow. “Glad you enjoyed it. And thanks for coming on such short notice.”

  “Not a problem. Poppy’s a friend. She’s cared about around here. I wouldn’t have missed it.”

  There was still a big part of me—irrational as it may have been—that wasn’t sure about this guy. But since seeing my ring on Poppy’s finger, he hadn’t done or said anything to make me think he was any kind of threat. I knew it was more than likely all in my mind, but when it came to a certain redhead, I found it difficult to be rational.

  It was impossible not to notice the looks she got from the opposite sex any time we went out in public together, and each one was a reminder of just how lucky I was she hadn’t been snatched up by the time I came strolling in with my offer.

  I pushed those sour thoughts down by reminding myself she was mine now. It might not have been in the most traditional sense, but that didn’t make it any less true.

  “Well, either way. We were glad to have you.” I looked to the few men moving in and out of the rooms. It was a much smaller crew today, so maybe that meant they were nearing the finish line. Jerking my chin in their direction, I asked, “How’re things going here?”

  “Good. Real good. All that’s left is a bit of painting, some touchups, and installing the new fixtures. We should be finished up in no time.”

  That was good to hear. First, because I knew Poppy was anxious to get things back up and running, and second, because it meant Clay wouldn’t be here all day every day with my wife while I was off at work forty-five minutes away.

  Before I could form a response, his gaze moved over my shoulder, and he grinned, “Mornin’, Pop Tart.”

  I turned to where he was looking and was instantly hard enough to pound nails. Poppy walked across the expanse of property that separated the inn from the main house with those cute, yet ridiculous as hell, ducky slippers on her feet. She’d slipped into a pair of pale blue and peach sleep shorts, a peach camisole, and that silky robe I loved so much. Her long red hair hung loose around her shoulders and down her back, the waves slightly rumpled from sleep and the activities we’d gotten up to the night before, the sun shining down on it, making it look like liquid copper. But it was the soft sleepiness on her face that I positively loved. I knew what lay beneath the wrappings of that package was made for sin and pleasure, but watching her now as she slowly trudged close, a steaming tea cup held near her lips, she was the cutest damn thing I’d ever seen.

  “Mmm, good morning,” she returned on an adorable yawn that made her nose scrunch once she reached us, her early morning voice low and husky.

  I told myself the reason I reached for her just as soon as she was close enough, pulling her front against my side and banding an arm around her shoulders, was all for show, to keep up appearances in front of Clay and his men, but the truth of it was, I had to feel her against me. Simple as that.

  She looked at me with a tiny grin, her crystal blue eyes still hazy with sleep, and I couldn’t help but lean down and press my lips to hers. “Good morning, Flower. You sleep good?”

  Her expression grew dreamy. That familiar pink stained her cheeks and that grin morphed into a full-blown smile as she nodded. “Yep. You?”

  “Best sleep I’ve had in forever,” I returned on a rumble, lowering to press my forehead against hers.

  Her happy giggle was cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and I suddenly remembered we weren’t alone.

  Poppy’s eyes went round just before she looked to Clay. “Uh . . . sorry about that.”

  “No need to apologize, darlin’,” he said, humor coating his words. “All good here. After all, you’re newlyweds, right?”

  “That’s right,” I answered for her, my arm growing tight around her and my chest swelling with pride at hearing the word newlywed. “And as newlyweds, it’s our job to gross people out with public displays of affection. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” I tucked her deeper under my arm and tilted my head down to her.

  Her nose scrunched again, but this time, her eyes squinted with it. “Uh huh.” She answered, nodding as she turned her face away from me.

  My skin broke out in goosebumps as a chill worked its way down my spine. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Poppy, look at me,” I said, my tone short and brusque. When I finally got her eyes again, I repeated, “What’s wrong?”

  She grimaced, her expression apologetic as she stated, “It’s just . . . well, you’re really ripe. And . . . sticky.”

  My brows lifted high on my forehead as a smirk formed on my lips. “Is that right?” Before she had a chance to answer, I snatched the tea cup from her.

  “Hey!” she cried. “I was drinking that!”

  I thrust it at Clay. “Hold that for us, will you?”

  He took it with a chuckle, and I immediately bent at the waist, shoved my shoulder in my flower’s belly, and hoisted her over my shoulder.

  “Jase!” she yelped, fisting my tee in her hands. “What are you doing?”

  I gave her ass a playful smack as I started the trek toward the main house. “My wife says I’m ripe, so what other choice do I have but to get in the shower?” Then I turned and nipped at the soft, round globe of her ass. “And you’re taking one with me.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Poppy

  It had been two weeks since our wedding, and things were going better than I could have hoped. Life as Mrs. Hyland came with a serious perk in the form of a husband who couldn’t seem to keep his hands off me no matter how often we went at it. And we went at it a lot. />
  If I had one complaint at all in the new normal that had become my life, it was that I was exhausted all the time.

  With the inn now up and running, I was as busy as ever, maybe even more so, what with the temperatures having warmed up and the beauty of the Smoky Mountains coming back to life with the spring. We weren’t even in the height of the tourist season yet, and the inn was already almost fully booked.

  I was running from sunup to sundown with barely a break in between. I took a brief amount of time in the evenings to make dinner, then it was back to laundry and cleaning, updating the books, returning emails, confirming reservations.

  Jase had asked several times if there was anything he could help with, but I always shot him down. I was so used to doing it on my own, and the inn wasn’t his responsibility. He’d already helped more than he knew by paying Clay for all the work and padding my bank account while I was closed down, I couldn’t bring myself to ask for more.

  He hadn’t said a word, but I knew he wasn’t a fan of losing our evening chill time in front of the TV, because he came into the kitchen one night while I was working away on my laptop, snatched it and the glass of wine I’d been lazily sipping off the table, and carried them both into the living room.

  I followed after him in bewilderment, and as soon as I rounded the coffee table, he put the stuff down, grabbed my shoulders, and tucked me into one corner of the sofa before putting the computer back in my lap. Then he sat on the other side, propping my feet in his lap, and un-paused the show he was watching.

  “You need to work late, you do it from here with me,” was all he said about it. And that was that.

  Another thing that aided in my exhaustion was the fact that, no matter how tired I was, I couldn’t seem to keep my hands off of him. When we hit the bed at night, it was in a tangle of tongues and teeth, arms and legs. No matter how tired I was, I couldn’t seem to turn off my desire for him. Going to bed without feeling him inside me wasn’t an option because as soon as we entered the room, my body lit up, turning me into a needy, panting, writhing bundle of exposed nerves that couldn’t be soothed until he got me off.