“Lana,” she whispers. As I reach the doorway, I reluctantly turn to her. I fear what she might say. Her words have been more personal than anything I'm used to hearing from her.
“Yes, Jan?” I ask, working to fight back the emotions she's stirred.
“Please be happy again. Please laugh again...the way you used to. Or just smile. It doesn't hurt to smile every once and a while. Daddy might see you, wherever he is.”
I almost lose it, so I just nod and step out the door, bracing myself against the wall, because all I want to do is drop to my knees and cry.
If only Daddy could see me...if only he knew how unhappy I am right now, how alone I feel every day.
“She okay?” comes from the entry to the hallway.
Keep yourself together, Janet. Just keep yourself together.
I gaze at him from the side, tilting my head to allow a tear to rush down the cheek he can't see. I remind myself of the asshole he was to me, of how responsible he was for all the misery I've felt for so long. If there was one person who had the power to pull me from my misery, it was Jarek, but now there's no hope. The very man who could have brought me so much pleasure now evokes such contradictory, painful sensations that it's only in fleeting moments, like that night together, that I'm able to exile all those cruel thoughts from my awareness.
“I guess I'll drive you home,” I say. I slip past him and head toward the door.
Nice as it was that he helped me with Janet, her words have reminded me about the horrible state he's put me in. I'm furious for what he's doing to me by being back. Furious for how stupid he must be to fall for Kelsey's act. I shouldn't be mad at him over that. After all, I have plenty more valid reasons for being pissed at him, but right now, this one bothers me the most.
“I can get a car,” Jarek insists.
“No, I owe you for this.”
“She going to be okay if we leave?”
“Only if she has a problem finding the bathroom.” As I reach for the doorknob, I feel his hand on my arm. I spin back to him.
“Lana, Lana,” he says. I look into his eyes—a big mistake, because how am I not supposed to get lost in those beautiful eyes? Please, body. Just get out of this place.
“If I said something the other day at lunch, something that provoked you, I'm sorry.” You have so many other things to be sorry about.
A crash of thunder precedes the trembling of the floor beneath our feet. “We'd better get out of here before it starts pouring,” I say. I turn from him but he grabs me again. “You can stop grabbing me anytime,” I say, shoving his hand off mine. He gazes at me, startled.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to—”
“I'm sure. Can we go?”
“Are you mad at me?” Aren't I always?
“Don't you need to be getting back to Kelsey?”
“There's nothing going on between me and Kelsey.”
That's what you think. “Yeah, okay,” I say.
“Why are you acting like this?”
I want to yell at him about that morning—that day I waited for him in agony, trying to assure myself that he'd return. I want to yell at him about so many things right now, but he's been so helpful, and being this close to him makes it hard for me to express my fury. It makes me feel weak, vulnerable. Damn you, Jarek Dean! Why do you do this to me?
“Lana, I thought we were starting to get along. I thought maybe we could—”
I know where this is going, and I won't stand for it. “You thought we were going to start dating or something? Really? Come on, Jarek. Don't be ridiculous. You think you can walk in here, years later, and pick up where we left off. I don't see you like that, and I'll never see you like that. What we had when we were young was a stupid mistake, and the night we had— that was just for fun, but that's all. Don't you get that? Tell me you're not so childish that you actually believed anything more could come of this.”
His gaze sinks, and I can tell he's hurt. He should be hurt, because everything I said is what I've been yelling at myself all these years. It's nice that he should share in some of that shame. No, Jarek, I won't be opening up my heart to you so you can crush it into a thousand pieces again.
“You should go,” I mutter. Everything in me is telling me to console him, to apologize for the cruelty, but I don't have to, and I shouldn't have to. He's the asshole. Why do I have to keep reminding myself of that?
“I thought you were going to drive me back,” he says.
“I can get a car for you if you want.”
He gazes at the window. Droplets slide down the glass, obscuring the view outside. “Don't bother,” he says. He hurries out.
I approach the door and rest my hand on the knob. The little girl in me wants him to return, to storm back in and beg me for forgiveness. She wants him to wrap his arms around me and whisper how much he's always loved me and needed me. She imagines us reconciling and moving on, together.
I hurry to the window and glance out to see his exit, to watch him leave me once again. It's raining harder than before so the sound of the drops fills the apartment. He runs out from beneath the foliage of the trees before my building and rushes across the street, ducking his head and tucking it beneath his jacket just as I'd done when heading into the bar tonight. He moves quickly, right toward the dead streetlight across the street. He looks like he might run into it, but surely he'll notice it as he gets closer.
I consider opening the window to call out to him, but he can run into it for all I care. Time slows for a moment as he makes contact with the pole and collapses onto the street. I gasp, and without wasting a moment, I hurry out the door and rush down the stairwell.
He's fine, I try to convince myself. But it looked like a serious collision. I scold myself for not opening the window. I should have warned him. But it was his fault for rushing across the street so recklessly. I told him there was a bad light the first time he drove me back to my place.
I race into the rain, feeling the drops hit my shoulders and hearing the splash of water from puddles I run through. It's hard to see in front of me, and I can tell by how dark the opposite side of the street looks why Jarek made his way so boldly forward. I cross the street and approach his body, lying limp beside the curb.
I fall to my knees and pull his jacket back, revealing his face. Blood rushes from a wound on his forehead. The rain clicks against his jacket. Since I didn't think to put on a jacket before I came outside, I'm shivering from a brisk wind that rushes by. “Jarek...Jarek...” I say, pushing him, hoping he'll stir to life. I pat my jeans for my phone, but I set it on the counter when we got back. I look around, desperate for help. I'm not just going to leave him out here like this.
A groan. He stirs. “Jarek, come on. Get up. We have to get inside.”
This is my fault. If I hadn't had that outburst, if I'd driven him home, this never would have happened. If I had warned him about the streetlamp, he wouldn't have run right into it.
He glances around, disoriented.
“Come on. It's okay.”
“Lana?” he asks.
“I've got you. Let's get you up. You'll freeze to death out here.” I help him to his feet, wrap his arm around me, and guide him back into the building. It's a slow process and we're shivering together as we make it back into my apartment. I escort him into my bedroom. “Come on, we need to get you out of these clothes,” I say, hardly caring that I'm as wet as he is. I fish through the drawers in my dresser. I don't know what I'll give him to wear. I have a few tees that'll work for a guy, but no options for pants or underwear.
He quickly sheds his pants and shirt so he's just in a soaked pair of boxers. He's shivering like he's in shock, his muscles trembling seemingly independently from the rest of him. The blood rushing from the wound on his head captures my attention. I hurry into the bathroom and snatch a wad of toilet paper from the holder against the wall before sifting through the cabinet for a bottle of peroxide. I head back to my patient and lead him to the bed. “Get out of
those boxers,” I insist. He hesitates, as if he doesn't want to be rude. “Seriously? I've seen you naked.” I yank them down for him, and he lifts his feet as I remove them. “Now sit down.” He obeys, and I sit beside him, preparing the peroxide and tissue before dabbing the wad across his forehead. “You clumsy bastard,” I mutter.
His gaze meets mine, but I'm too busy cleaning his wound to notice his expression. As I complete my task, relieved to see that it's not too serious, I look at him. He looks sheepish. It's disarming, and suddenly my awareness is fixated on his beautiful physique...in my bed. Heat fills my cheeks.
I start to turn away so I can shield my emotion from him, but he captures the back of my head in his grip and pulls me close, forcing a kiss that I relax into, because despite every desire in me to resist, I can't. Seeing him lying on the ground beside the curb terrified me. I couldn't lose him...this man who wasn't even mine. It tore into my soul, stirring those painful memories of Daddy.
His touch is cool, since he's still freezing from the rain he's soaked in. As he wrestles me out of my blouse, I kick my shoes off, and he forces my jeans to the floor. A powerful heat radiates all around me. Everything's a haze, and I feel like I'm in a wonderful dream as he wraps his arm around me and lays me across the bed, tenderly kissing his way down my neck. His cheeks are warm, but the chill at the tip of his nose bites at my flesh, as does the water that drips from his damp hair. The sensations battle for attention, confusing my nerves nearly as much as these conflicting thoughts confuse my mind. I shouldn't do this. I should fight him. I should tell him to leave. But that look in his eyes, so weak, so vulnerable, has left me wanting nothing more than to bring him ease. Not just for him, but to ease this pain within me—this burning lust I've felt since he's returned to my life.
I think about Kelsey—about how she wants to win him. She doesn't care about him. She never cared about him until he had money. I'm the foolish girl who's always cared about him, and my hate only stems from these deep, powerful feelings that I fear can never leave me—the feelings that will haunt me until the day I die.
If this is what I'm cursed with, then why shouldn't he take me? Why shouldn't he claim my body for tonight? It's a temporary relief from a deeper longing that can never be sated, but it's still relief...and I want it so badly.
He unfastens my bra and tosses it aside, freeing me as he unleashes tender kisses across my breasts. Swirls of delight ripple across my body, the sort of ripples no man or stroke of my finger has granted me. This is a sensation only evoked by Jarek.
He trails his nose down my belly, to my navel, his fingers kneading either side of my hip. I roll my head across my pillow as I revel in delight. He kisses down my stomach and farther, until he's reached his destination. A rush of energy flies up my spine to the front of my head, like waves of energy shooting through me.
With each tease of his tongue, each touch of his lip, my thoughts move further and further from all those moments before. I'm lost in this experience, gasping, moaning with desire and longing for him to never let it end. When his lips abandon me, I'm reminded that it must. However, it's only a moment that I'm without them before they return, kissing my lips. Spreading his legs across the mattress, he pushes my legs open.
Condoms! I scoot back, twist onto my side, and crawl to the nightstand, where I retrieve the condoms and lube. He wraps his arms around me, and I can feel his torso pressing against my back. He takes the condom and lube and pulls me back so my shoulder blades rest against his firm chest. He nestles his nose against my neck and his warm breath rushes down my flesh, toward my chest. His nose has lost the chill it began with. I suppose my body has helped bring it back to its usual temperature.
His free hand strokes up my side, caressing my obliques as his fingers skillfully make their way up my abdomen. He kisses my neck once more before trailing kisses up to my ear. His teeth massage my lobe before offering a gentle tug. As his warm breath hits the inside of my ear, a surge of energy rushes down my body, stirring powerful desire deep inside me, leaving me wanting him to invade the same place. Not in a few moments. Not when he's ready. Just now. I want him pushing into me, filling me with that intoxicating pressure...that pressure that assures me he's so close, the raise of his shoulders, the twist of his expression letting me know it's time.
But we're so far from that moment. We're just beginning. The hand that strokes me settles on my breast, and Jarek rubs it across my nipple. I push my hips back so that my ass presses against him. I feel the girth, the length, the power of his pelvis as he pushes forward, allowing his cock to slide vertically between my buttocks.
With one arm around my body and the other sliding around my legs, he scoops me up, lays me on my back across the bed, and kisses me again. The sensations run through my body as if the cells in my nerves are gossiping to one another, expressing their excitement about what is about to happen. His kisses continue, paralyzing me, keeping my thoughts still and my body quivering in uncontrolled fits of excitement.
He pulls away and his hand lowers. As I inspect his work, I see he already has the condom on. A skillful move I didn't see. Nice work, Jarek. He maneuvers himself into me. There's that pressure, that force my body needs right now. I like to believe it will be easier since I had him so recently, but he is hardly in and I can already feel that, though it's easier, it's still a struggle. I bite my tongue, suppressing a groan, but another thrust forward is too much for me to keep in. I sing out my pain.
He halts. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what must come next. He wraps one hand around my leg and sets another on my belly, gently rubbing, as if to sooth me as he continues to enter. I throw my head back so it hits the edge of the mattress.
He strokes his hand up and down my abdomen as he continues filling me, possessing me with his cock. As he begins his thrusts and we catch our stride, he leans down and whispers, “Put your arms around me.” I do, and he wraps his arms around me and hoists me into the air. His biceps bulge as he holds me midair, while he's still filling me. He looks into my eyes as if he wants to see my excitement, and I don't think I disappoint him. He steps off the bed, carrying me until I'm up against the wall. I don't have control of my body anymore. He's in control of that, which is fine with me. I trust his strength and competence with his skill.
He kisses down my chest, his lips massaging my breasts as he thrusts more. I wrap my legs around him, clinging on as he maneuvers back and forth, touching those places inside me that desperately wanted to feel him before. I throw my head back against the wall and groan even louder. I hope Janet can't hear me, but a part of me doesn't care because I can't control myself right now. I just want him in me, as deep as he can go, as hard as he can go. Wreck me, Jarek. Claim me!
His lips return to mine and I feel his sweat, surely from holding me up this long, trickle onto my face. I know I can't weigh an incredible amount, but it's impressive that he can keep me up this long. As he thrusts, I feel as if he's filling me more than ever before and deeper than he managed to get the last time we fucked.
He whirls around and lays me back on the bed, never exiting, only ceasing his pelvic-assaults on his way to the bed, but as he releases me, he kneels on the mattress, leaning back as he penetrates me.
His muscles are tense and red, nearly matching the wound on his forehead. His biceps bulge with veins—I assume from holding me up. That was just showing off. He didn't need to do any of that. But I'm glad he did because it was so erotic.
He continues to touch that delicious spot within me, that place that sends my muscles into fits and spasms, while trailing his hands around my body as if he just wants to pleasure himself with the feel of it, as if he's trying to feel his way around so he can remember every bit of it. I love the idea that he wants to forever have this experience embedded in his memory.
He wraps his arms around my legs, helping them stay in place as he continues, now moving much faster than before, and the speed stimulates my g-spot in a way that makes me toss my head to eithe
r side. I must look so ridiculous right now, but considering how good it feels, it's not something I'm willing to interrupt or control. I deserve to feel this good with him. I've had to endure the pain, so shouldn't I get the pleasure?
He grunts through his teeth, his eyes locked in a grimace as if he's in pain, as if all he wants is to fill me with his come, and that's what I want. Fill me, Jarek. Fill me up!
He leans over me and looks into my eyes, and I look into his. As his movements become more consistent, more rapid, I know I'm about to succeed in pleasing him. His legs shake and his shoulders arch back. Here it is!
He jerks forward, as if someone has pushed him from behind. A war-cry strains from his mouth, sounding as if all he's wanted was to get this out...as if he's been blue-balling and just needs that release.
He pants, perspiration covering his forehead along with a bit of blood that's started drying where he hit the streetlamp.
Despite how erotic the experience was, I'm satisfied without being taken all the way. I wouldn't have changed a moment of the experience for anything, and the pleasure I felt in his satisfaction was inexplicable.
I feel something on my clitoris. It's his thumb, which he's using to stimulate me, as he's so cleverly done before. He smiles a devilish smile, and I can't believe what he's doing. He restarts his thrusts, stimulating me with a slick, calculated circular motion of his thumb, one that teases as it comes and goes with unpredictable maneuvers. Even better, his cock is still hitting that spot inside me, and between that and this massage, it's too much for me. Goosebumps rush up my body before I toss my head back. I'm forced to obey my muscles as they lock and I feel as if something has just exploded inside me. Then I remember— something has.
While I recover, he leans down so we're panting in each other's faces. He smiles again before planting a kiss on my lips. It feels so good to have him on me like this. As a bead of sweat drips from his brow and falls on my chest, I love knowing I have him on me. I hope he's stained me with his scent, if only so it'll linger for a few minutes after this.
Every Time He Leaves (The Raeven Sisters Book 1) Page 8
