I registered the steepness of the last curve and took my foot off the gas. Jagger maintained his speed, kept control when the car skidded to the side, and accelerated out of the turn. Even with the brake off, I felt the force pull me to the left, and a trace of fear touched me. I wasn’t wearing a helmet. I checked my watch, and my heart rate was still in good parameters. Funny, I had a ticking time bomb in my chest, but I was worried about a helmet on a go-kart track.
Jagger came in first, pulling in between the concrete barriers that marked the starting lanes. I parked behind him, unclicked my seat belt, and stood.
He helped me out, and I caught the dismayed looks of some of the kids he’d just smoked. Apparently he did, too.
“Sorry, guys,” he apologized, turning his baseball hat to the front again. The white of the cap contrasted to his tan skin and made his eyes seem even brighter blue. “What?” He caught me staring.
“Mr. California,” I mumbled with a smile.
He kissed my cheek as we walked off the track and past the attendant. He stopped and passed a fifty-dollar bill to the guy. “Hey, man, let the kids go again. It wasn’t exactly a fair matchup.”
Well, if that didn’t just melt me.
The attendant nodded, one earbud still in, and stopped the kids as they followed us out. I looped my arm around Jagger’s waist as the kids yelled out their thanks.
“You kept up,” he said with a smile.
“You should see me on an ATV. I more than keep up.” At least I used to.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Skee ball?” he asked, taking me into the arcade portion of the park.
“Oh, I’d hate to wound your ego,” I said with mock sorrow.
“My ego has pretty good defenses.” He flicked his tongue stud across his front teeth and smiled. He had to stop doing that before I jumped on him…again.
He was careful to respect the boundaries I’d vaguely outlined a week ago in Nashville, but with every kiss, I wondered what it would be like with him. Sure, I liked sex, but I hadn’t lied. I’d never seen the big deal, or the reasons people had affairs and were ruled by this lust nonsense. I’d never had trouble keeping my head in bed, but Jagger made me lose all sense of reason with a simple kiss. My only thoughts were always more or closer.
Like right now.
“—can take it. Paisley?” He jarred me from my growing obsession with his mouth.
Oops. “Hmm?” I asked, like he hadn’t just caught me openly ogling him.
His thumb grazed my lower lip. My tongue swept across the tip without thought, catching a hint of salt. His eyes darkened as his gaze followed.
He took my hand and led me through the nearly deserted arcade, popping quarters into the enclosed racing game. His hand swept aside the curtain and tugged me into the darkened space after him. Instead of taking his side of the bench, he sat directly in the center. One hand on my lower back, he guided me, and I was all too happy to put one knee on either side of him.
I fit my hips to his and kissed him, unable to keep my hands to myself another minute. His hat fell to the bench as my hands tangled in his hair. How did this keep getting better? I couldn’t get enough of the press of his lips, the stroke of his tongue, the way he made the world around us disappear.
My breasts tingled where they pressed his chest, and I shamelessly adjusted my position to get as much full-body contact as possible. My heart kept pace with my breathing, both seeming to stop and start around each kiss.
His hands flexed at my waist and ran the length from my ribs to my hips. I arched, leaning my head back, and he took the opening, caressing my neck with his mouth. A jolt of pleasure jumped down my body, and I wanted him. Wanted like I’d never thought I was capable of. I rolled my hips into his and was rewarded with a rumble of a moan against my throat.
My fingers slipped down his neck to dig into the tense muscles of his shoulders. One of his hands threaded through my hair, while the other one slipped beneath the back of my shirt, caressing bare skin.
His fingers lingered on the hollow of my spine, lightly tracing patterns. Every nerve ending on my body sizzled to life. I couldn’t still my hips over his, and the kisses grew longer, more intense. We were a mess of hands, teeth, and tongues.
The game behind us reached its limit, alerting us that it wanted more quarters even though the virtual cars hadn’t left the starting line. I giggled into our kiss, thinking we sure had.
He shook his head at me, the grin bringing out his dimples. I bet those got him out of more than his fair share of trouble, and probably got him into more than his share of girls. The smile faded from my face. My thoughts ran amok and refused to listen to reason. Even worse, my mouth opened.
“How many girls have you slept with?” I cursed my tongue.
His face transformed into an impenetrable mask. “Why?”
“I think it’s a reasonable question, especially if we’re going to be in a relationship.” I moved my thumbs in circles along his biceps, trying to take the sting out of my unplanned assault on his past.
His jaw ticked. “We are in a relationship, Paisley.” His eyes slid shut, and he sighed like he’d been defeated, his head falling to the fiberglass shell of the game.
“Then don’t I have the right to know?” I had to know. Sweet lord, I didn’t want to know.
“What will the answer give you?” His eyes stayed shut.
My heart pounded at an acceptable rate, but I couldn’t tell if it was from our impromptu make-out session or anticipating Jagger’s answer. “Knowledge.”
“Is the answer going to change how you feel about me?” His eyes opened underneath a puckered brow. I smoothed my fingers along the lines in his forehead.
“No,” I whispered. “It doesn’t have to be now, if you’re not ready.” That seemed to be our mantra when it came to our pasts. “But I need to know eventually.” A corner of my mouth tilted up. “I can give you my whole list right now, if it would make you feel better. I’ve kissed five boys my whole life, and slept with one.”
“Only five guys have kissed you?”
“My first one went to Billy Gerrison during a scandalous game of spin the bottle when I was fourteen. Will scared off most of the guys in high school on account of being Peyton’s best friend, and then there were a couple guys my senior year. Then…”
“Carter.”
“And there’s the whole sordid history of Paisley Donovan,” I joked. “See, it’s not that hard.” His reluctance was enough to make me want to breathe into a paper bag. How many could there possibly be? He was twenty-three. A dozen? My God, two dozen?
“This is that important to you?” He had on his serious face.
“I need to know.”
“And if I told you that I don’t know? That I never marked my bedpost?” He held my hips like he was scared I would run away.
I leaned away from him a little. “You can’t even guess?” Oh, that came out harsher than I intended.
“I could try.” He looked past my head and darted his eyes left and right like he was calling up memories. “There was high school,” he muttered. “And then college…I just didn’t keep track. It wasn’t about numbers, it was just a physical gratification kind of thing, no emotion involved. I don’t do attachments.”
“Didn’t,” I corrected.
“What?”
“I hope you’re kind of attached to me, otherwise I’m not sure what we’re doing here.” I tried to keep my voice level. “I don’t care about what you did or who you were, Jagger, as long as that’s not who you are now. I’m not judging you. I just want to know how many memories I’m competing with, being compared to. If you were…safe?”
His eyes cut right through me to the heart of every insecurity. “I’m very attached to you, Paisley. I haven’t felt so connected to another human being since…” His eyes unfocused, seemingly hazed for a moment before he snapped back. “Since I left my family.” He cupped my cheek. “I don’t know how many there were. A lot, and I wish I had
the same numbers you do, but I don’t. I wish I’d always interpreted sex as you do, but I haven’t. I can tell you that I was safe every time. I’ve never had sex without a condom.”
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding. “Okay—”
“I’m not finished,” he interrupted, both of his hands now holding my face. “As for your last concern, who you’re competing with? Paisley, there’s no competition, no ghosts lurking in the corners of my heart, no standard I could hold you to, because you blow every single memory out of the water like it never existed. Kissing other girls was just a step in a very well-rehearsed little dance. Kissing you fucking consumes me. There’s no room for anyone else.”
“When was the last time?” My stomach clenched, and my heart thudded in my throat.
“None since Florida.”
I arched my eyebrow at him, wordlessly asking.
He shook his head with a wry grin. “It wasn’t meeting you, though I know that would be the awesome line you’d want to hear.” He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “It was saving you. Seeing how quickly life could just be…over. I’ve wanted nothing more in my life than to fly Apaches, and there I was at the beach, scoring another girl in a bikini. My priorities were wrong. Then you were thrown in, and when I saw you, my first thought was that I was too late. You were already gone, this vivacious girl who’d been reading just a few minutes before…”
“You noticed,” I murmured.
“Want to know the color of your bathing suit that day? Because I can tell you that, too.”
“You have a photographic memory, you cheat.”
A grin flickered across his face. “I’d made it into flight school, but I was wasting my time, my energy on girls who meant nothing. So I stopped. No women. No distractions. I decided to concentrate on what really mattered.”
“And me?”
“You matter.”
“I’m a distraction.”
His gaze dropped to my lips. “Only the best kind. And I like to think of you as more of a reason to succeed.”
I kissed the furrows on his forehead. “Thank you, for telling me about the others.”
“Has it changed anything?” His eyes were wary.
“No, I promise. Do I approve? Of course not. Does it scare me a little? Absolutely.” He turned away, and I gently brought his face to mine. “I’m not going to hold your past against you, as long as you don’t hold mine against me.”
“Deal.” He pressed his lips to mine. “I don’t know how to do this, how to be in a relationship. I don’t know if I’m calling you too much, or too little. I don’t know if I’m supposed to feel this way, all borderline obsessed, or if I’m a total nut job. I think most guys figure this out in junior high.” He rested his forehead on mine, and I tried to match his slower breaths.
He looked at me, unguarded, and a sweet pressure settled in my chest that I was too scared to name. Not this soon. I was over my head and yet never more comfortable in my skin, my thoughts. “You have been perfect. Don’t think about what you should be doing. I want you, not some fake version of what you think I want.”
“And my track record for fucking things up?” He smirked, but his eyes didn’t hold a trace of the humor his mouth did.
“You have never let me down, Jagger.”
“Maybe…maybe you could be my exception.” His voice was low, laced with faint hope.
With the rules I’d broken, the feelings I had in that very moment, I felt like…me, and not just the watered-down version I’d become since diagnosis. Jagger made me want things I’d long since given up on for my future. There was no alarm on my wrist, no one telling me exactly what I had to be doing for my own good. He was living, breathing freedom. “Maybe you’re mine, too.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Jagger
I know what you’re thinking. Eventually I’ll screw it up. I always do.
“You don’t have to do this.” Paisley squeezed my hand. “If you’re uncomfortable…”
“I’ll be fine.” Now that was funny. Uncomfortable at a formal party? If she only knew. But she didn’t, because I hadn’t worked up the balls to tell her yet. I adjusted the knot on my tie, wishing it was just a little looser, or better yet…off. We stood outside her parents’ house, watching as couples parked their cars and moved toward the front door.
Paisley wore a simple black dress, a strapless number that ended just above her knee. Her hair was swept up in some style that showed off her neck and made it way too accessible. Luckily I wasn’t amateur enough to leave hickeys, because the soft skin at the base of her neck was easily becoming my favorite place to worship.
“Are you sure this is the best way for them to find out about us?” I asked.
She scrunched her nose, which was impossibly cute. “Well, no. But at least in public you’re not going to get shot or anything.”
“I’ve seen your dad pissed. Are the guns locked up?”
She laughed. “Want me to go in first and make sure?”
I ran my thumb over her knuckles and led her toward the lion’s den. “Nope. We do this together.”
“Do you want to wait for Josh and Ember?”
Every officer had been invited, and I’d basically blackmailed Josh into coming. “They’re running a little late due to the shower running out of hot water. It was something about getting stranded with soap in their hair.”
She raised her eyebrows. “They were both in the shower?”
A wicked grin erupted on my face. “Yes.”
“That doesn’t seem…practical.”
I locked eyes with her, letting all my carefully banked desire for her pour out in a glance as I drew us into the shadows, out of sight. “Practical? Since when does sex have to be practical? Just think, Paisley. Your wet, naked body pressed between me and the tile, which you like, because it’s cold and your body is on fire. Me taking your weight in my arms so I can fit you to just the right angle where I can lick the water off your—”
She covered my mouth with her hand. “I understand.” Her cheeks flamed, and her eyes darkened as she moved her fingers away from my lips. “You make waiting really hard, Jagger.”
“If you think that’s hard…”
“Seriously!” she squeaked.
“Well, it’s my job.” I smiled, trying to calm my body from the very vivid fantasy I’d just painted. “You’re supposed to play the genteel southern lady and ward off my advances.”
She stretched on her tiptoes and put her lips to my neck, just above my collar. “I think I like your job better.” I groaned, and she giggled. “Let’s get inside.”
We mixed in with the crowd and crossed the threshold. Major Davidson greeted us in the entry hall. “Bateman?” His eyes darted to Paisley and widened when he noticed our joined hands. “Paisley? Well, this is going to be an interesting evening.” He laughed. “You two kids enjoy yourselves.”
That did not make me feel better.
“Lee! You made it!” A woman with pale blond hair, about Paisley’s size, tugged her hand, pulling her to the side of the room. One look at her heart-shaped face and I knew she was Paisley’s mom.
“Yes, Mama. I promised I would.”
“Well, after that stunt you pulled at Christmas, I wasn’t sure we could depend on you.” The woman’s eyes had switched from kind-mother vibe to sharp in two seconds.
“I went to where I was wanted,” Paisley answered, her voice still demure. She moved closer to me, and it didn’t escape Mrs. Donovan’s notice.
Her narrowed eyes took in every detail of my attire, and I sent a quick prayer of thanks to my mother, who’d taught me the difference between a three- and four-button blazer. There wasn’t a single stitch out of place that she could pick on. Finally she met my eyes with an icy glare. “And you would be?”
“Mrs. Donovan?” a uniformed major called from her side. General’s aide, if I had to guess.
Her face transformed instantly, the lines softening into
a smile. “Major Beard, is he ready for us?”
The way she shifted so quickly between her private face and public one sent chills down my spine. Paisley’s smile was close-lipped, and her eyes darted to mine, silently asking for understanding.
What wasn’t to understand? I’d grown up just like this. Only in a bigger house with bigger sharks.
I smiled. “Don’t worry.”
“Yes, ma’am, he’s ready for you,” Major Beard replied. “If you’ll come with me?” He gestured with his hand toward the spiral staircase.
“Lee-Lee, you look beautiful this evening.” Carter’s voice shredded my already frayed nerves. He leaned forward, brushing his lips across her cheek, and my fist clenched. Calm the fuck down, I warned my inner Hulk. I didn’t need to explode into a giant rage monster at the moment.
“Thanks, Will. It’s good to see you,” she answered, still holding my hand.
“Lee,” Mrs. Donovan ordered, her sweet voice at odds with the look she cast our way. “I’m sorry, but this is family only,” she said to me.
“No, ma’am, I understand.” I brought Paisley’s knuckles to my lips and brushed a soft kiss across them. “I’ll be right here.”
“Will?” Mrs. Donovan motioned him toward the stairs.
Well, if that didn’t take tonight from awkward to flat-out hostile.
“Mama—” Paisley warned.
Carter shook his head. “Not this year, ma’am.”
Mrs. Donovan smiled genuinely at Carter and said, “Well, next year,” with a pointed look in my direction. Nice.
Paisley rose and brushed a kiss across my lips. It wasn’t passionate, or even sexy, but the symbolic claim that she meant it to be. It struck home, if the melodramatic sigh from her mother was any indication. I stroked my thumb across her cheekbone. “Go.”
She took a deep breath and then followed where her mother led, her heels giving her a couple inches over her.
Eyes Turned Skyward Page 18
