9781631056314TattooedHeartsJolieNC

by Mika Jolie

  Stripping out of her boots and jeans, she pushed the door open and walked into the steam-filled room. Her eyes immediately went to the fogged glass door and fixated on Forrest’s faint outline.

  He stood motionless, one hand braced on the wall in front of him. His head hanging low as splash of water pounded between his shoulder blades, rippling over his body, from his sleek back to the perfect, mouthwatering curve of his ass. Every muscle in her body tensed. The first time she saw him naked a decade ago, she’d thought he was beautiful and never imagined he could get better. She’d been wrong. He’d filled out in all the right places and then some.

  He was gorgeous.

  Her heart jumped and a heightened awareness prickled every part of her body. She stood staring, enthralled by his sheer beauty. She forced herself to take a deep breath, to just breathe. Air in. Air out. He must have felt her presence because he glanced over, swiped at the glass, squinted and held her gaze. Then the door slid open. Claire stared. One finger signaled her to come forward.

  She took a step and stopped, not sure if she should remove her bra and panties first. Eyes locked on hers, he wrapped his hand around his hard length and held. Her breath hitched. The juncture of her thighs throbbed and swelled.

  “Keep coming,” he said, voice gruff.

  Her legs took over and moved forward, and then she was in the shower. He stepped back to give her room under the spraying jet stream. At first contact, the warm temperature of the water made her suck in a breath, causing her hardened nipples to rise. Forrest groaned, hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She slid her fingers into his wet hair and pulled him down. “Kiss me.”

  Catching her chin with his thumb, he tilted her face up and gave in to her request. Claire opened for him. His tongue delved into her mouth, seeking and demanding. His hands moved along her back and unsnapped her bra. He kissed her harder, garnering a little whimper out of her.

  At the sound, Forrest pulled back just a fraction and looked into her eyes, hot wild lust in his gaze. It mirrored what she felt inside. She tugged him in, needing to feel him, wanting no space between them.

  “Don’t stop kissing me.”

  “Just slowing the pace,” he said, running the pad of his thumb against her cheek.

  She shook her head. “Don’t ever stop.”

  “Never?” With his other hand, he caught one peaked nipple between his thumb and index finger, squeezed and rolled it gently.

  Claire sucked in a breath. “Never ever.”

  His mouth smirked in this smile that made her know he was thinking of something. Lowering his head, his lips grazed her jaw, her throat, across her collarbone. Before she knew it, he dropped to his knees and peeled off her panties. He let out a guttural sound at the sight of her bared in front of him, then he cupped her ass and squeezed.

  “Open for me,” he said, hands on her thighs.

  She spread her feet and found herself wide open in every possible way. He slipped his hand between her legs, sliding a finger, then another, through her slick flesh. He teased and stroked until her core tightened, ready to unravel.

  Then his mouth. Oh God, his mouth…

  He licked her once, ran his tongue against her bare flesh and groaned. “You taste so fucking delicious.” Then kissed the most sensitive spot, this time he took his sweet time–stroking, touching, kissing every inch of her so that she was worked up into a near frenzy.

  His hands tightened around her thighs, spread her open even more, and let her wetness flood his mouth.

  Her head swam.

  Her hips rolled with abandon.

  Her whole body pulsed for him, blood thrumming through her veins to the rhythm of want, a pounding in her ears that blotted out everything but the feelings that charged through her. And when he rolled his fingers over the bundle of nerves, she went over the edge, crying out his name.

  His hands steadied her thighs, holding her while her body trembled. He didn’t rise to his feet until her breathing was somewhat steady.

  “Hold on to me,” he said, leaning her against the wall.

  “But…I want…” Her hands moved below his waist, skimmed his hardness and held.

  Nuzzling his face in her neck, he shook his head. “Not now.” He turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and soaked up each glittering droplet from her skin.

  The intimacy behind the act of Forrest drying her caused her heart rate to kick up. When he was finished, he discarded the towel to the floor. Grabbing her ass, he scooped her up, bringing them at eye level, her breasts smashed against his chest. Her legs acted on instinct and wrapped around his waist. A wave of heat licked her veins, scorching her. She welcomed it.

  “Bed,” he said and ran his tongue along the outer edge of her ear.

  Claire shuddered. He kissed her again, and she moaned with pleasure at the taste of herself in his mouth.

  She needed to have him.

  He had to take her.

  He was hot as sin, smelled like lust, and radiated sexuality.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held on and didn’t let go until they fell together on the bed.

  He kissed her breasts, suckled and nipped until they felt heavy and swollen. He touched and licked every inch of her skin as if seeking to memorize her body or claim it. Either way, she was his. He could do it for eternity.

  Intense heat built in her stomach and spread lower until she tightened and unraveled as she exploded. She was still shaking when he grabbed her hips and slid between her thighs, his steely length resting along her sex, hitting her clit.

  Ahhh.

  Her eyes fluttered closed. She arched to take him in. But he pulled back, and brushed wet locks of hair away from her face.

  “Look at me, Claire.”

  Half-crazed with need, she obliged. His gaze was intently fierce, so much so she trembled. “Now…Please,” she breathed, full of longing and untamed desire.

  In one long, torturously delicious thrust, he slid into her, until every millimeter was buried deep inside, filling her all the way.

  Home.

  She gasped and screamed his name.

  “Give yourself to me,” he said, voice rough.

  She knew what he wanted. Control. Complete control of her body. “I’m yours.” She raised her ass and handed herself over to him.

  Letting out a low, very male sound of satisfaction, he cradled her hips and thrust deeper. Claire’s head spun. She gripped his hair and wrapped her legs around his waist so they touched in every way, bringing him deeper, skin on skin. He moved over her, in her, the intensity increasing until it became a feverish pace.

  He kissed her hard and then pulled back to look at her before kissing her again.

  And then again.

  Each time harder, and rougher, tongue delving into her mouth as he moved faster. Each thrust deeper and harder, hips grinding.

  The exquisite friction sent her flying. Her body clenched, and shattered, sensations rolled through her in a sinful chaos of bliss. She threw her head back and cried out in pleasure, spasms rocking her body in tight, sensual waves.

  “Claire,” he grunted her name, burying his head in her shoulder. With two quick thrusts, he came as the last tremors rippled through her. “So fucking good.”

  The heat of his voice on her skin sent another ripple through her, making her shudder against him. They lay stock-still, hearts pounding against one another. For a long moment, neither spoke. Words were not needed. The moment was incredible.

  When he finally lifted his head, he brushed a kiss over her damp temple, and studied her. “You drive me crazy.”

  “Hopefully in a good way.”

  Rolling to his back, he hauled her in tight against him. “Insanity is never good.”

  “Say that to the heart.”

  He tightened his grip. She curled up in his arms and let the beat of his heart soothe her to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Love
doesn’t need wisdom. It speaks from the irrational wisdom of the heart.”

  Deepak Chopra

  For the first time in a decade, Claire woke up in Forrest’s bed, in a pretzel position—skin on skin, legs tangled, fingers intertwined, and her head on his chest.

  The sex had been great, but to be curled up in his arms, sharing body heat, the beat of his heart whispering softly in her ear, that feeling was primal.

  With her body and mind relaxed, she felt…

  Safe.

  Peaceful.

  At home.

  Tidal waves of emotion hit her. The knot once rooted deep inside her chest disentangled and set her free. Overflowing with joy, her lips spread into a smile, all the years of anguish and sorrow slipping away. She scooted closer, practically on top of him at this point, and let the happiness soak in.

  “Finally awake,” he said, voice still rough with sleep.

  She nodded, still floating.

  “Feeling okay?” As if needing reassurance he didn’t break her, his calloused fingers ran over her arm, making her skin prickle at the touch.

  “Why do you always ask me that?” she asked, still listening to his heartbeat.

  “Ask you what?”

  Barely lifting her head from his chest, she peered at him. His eyes were still closed. His chin covered in days old stubble that was not quite a full beard. His thick curly hair all mussed up. Her heart stuttered. God, he was handsome.

  “If I’m okay or good after we have sex.”

  He shifted, but not far enough for their bodies to stop touching. “For one, I’m much bigger than you.”

  She chuckled. “You’re definitely big.” The sore spot between her thighs was a sure indication of it. Not that she minded. Quite the opposite, she craved it.

  “You’re hopeless.” He shook his head and smiled, the kind of smile that lit up his face and made the butterflies flutter in her belly. “I was referring to my physical size versus your build.”

  Just so there wasn’t any misunderstanding, she released his hand, slid hers under the comforter and grabbed his thickness. “So was I.”

  With a groan, Forrest tightened his grip on her and swore beneath his breath. “I ask because I care. I don’t want to hurt you physically or in any other way.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Not the love declaration she longed for, but this was good, a step in the right direction. She understood the significance of the text that led to last night. How far he’d come to let her in even this close. Forrest didn’t love casually. When he loved, it was fierce, wide open, and raw. His whole heart on display, that’s who he’d always been.

  Now he was guarded. Maybe a little less so than a month ago, but she had no reason to think he wasn’t still trapped within the walls of his guarded heart. She understood his reluctance to risk his and accepted it.

  “The feeling is mutual,” she said against his chest. He had her whole heart for his whole life. “Do you have to go to the office or the hospital today?”

  “I have some paper work to finish, but that can be done here,” he said, chin resting on top of her head.

  “Going to the farm?”

  “No.”

  The one word answer spoke volumes and told her the farm was not a topic for discussion. As always the havoc in his life pinched her chest.

  “By the way, did I happen to tell you how crazy you are for driving in that storm last night?” he asked in his typical calm voice.

  “Yeah, but look how great things turned out.” She nestled even closer to him, not quite ready to go. Change that, she never wanted to let go. But it was inevitable. Night had fled. The sun, an unwanted guest, streamed in through the windows. He laughed and squeezed her ass. “Speaking of that, from what I remember, our morning sex tends to be pretty awesome.”

  “We only had morning sex once.” The words slipped off her tongue before she realized what she had just said. Another reminder she had left him waiting that night. Dread knotted her stomach. His body tensed next to hers and Claire silently cursed herself over her thoughtless act.

  “Right,” he said, and her heart ached at the hint of bitterness in his voice.

  “Forrest…”

  “Sshh…”

  Her breath hitched. She swallowed the pain tugging in her heart. After a long silence, he rolled over and pinned her beneath him. His hands stretched her arms above her head. A strong, muscled thigh spread her legs, opening her for him.

  He stared at her, his expression the usual composed and collected. One of these days, she’d have to ruffle him a bit.

  “Another round?” She arched her back and tried to free one hand from his grasp. With a little push of his ass forward, he’d be inside her.

  “In a minute,” he said and gently squeezed her hands, telling her to stay that way.

  The control. It frustrated and drove her wild all at once. “Now.”

  “Let me look at you.”

  He took his time too, letting his eyes move from her face down to her breasts. Claire sucked in a breath, feeling her nipples straining under his stare. Then his gaze flicked to her face, intense and unwavering.

  They lay together like that for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was a little hoarse, but filled with conviction. “No more discussion of the past. No more apologies. It’s about here and now. Good?”

  She wanted to touch him so badly, but her hands were still stretched over her head. “Let me touch you.”

  Something flickered in those mesmerizing eyes of his. “Are we good?”

  “We’re good, Doc.”

  Dropping his head to her neck, his mouth blazed a path over her throat and collarbone. She tilted her waist so that his erection pressed right against her core. Forrest let out a low groan and rubbed his jaw to hers before finding his way to her breasts. In the next moment he was inside her, sliding in and out and making her want to weep with ecstasy.

  A while later, Claire sat on the walnut-colored leather barstool in Forrest’s kitchen, scrolling through her emails and text messages while lingering over that first cup of morning coffee.

  “Anything important?” he asked while mixing the pancake batter.

  “Minka sent a group text asking to meet for lunch.”

  “Great. Have fun.”

  “You’re on the text as well,” she said carefully. “They go for the ultrasound today.”

  He nodded. His face, hard as nails, revealed nothing. “I'll reach out to Minka.”

  Crestfallen, her head sagged down to her chest. She sent a quick text responding she’d be there.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  Feeling his gaze on her, Claire rearranged her face into something she hoped was nonchalant and casual-looking and answered, “Other than that, my schedule is all clear.”

  After a long stare, he focused his attention back on the stove. She pressed back the nagging thoughts that sooner or later, the topic of Jason would have to be discussed. Both men meant a lot to her. Once upon a time they’d been best friends.

  She watched Forrest move with efficiency between the stove and the pantry. He was immaculately proportioned, part sculpture, part human–a man set apart by the alignment of muscle and bone beneath skin. All of her life, she watched people edge around his walls as if mindful of the signs, do not touch. But she had touched and kissed every inch of him. Well, there was one part of him she wanted in her mouth, that‘d make him lose all that imperturbable calm.

  They had time. Possibly forever.

  For now, she’d savor this moment. There was something incredibly sexy about the whole thing. From the fact her morning outfit consisted only of one of his well-worn alma mater tees, to the hiss of the boiling teapot, and Forrest barefoot, in worn jeans and a navy blue Boston Red Sox World Series Champions tee, preparing breakfast.

  She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the oak kitchen island, totally caught in a trance. He placed a stack of freshly made blueberry pancakes oozing with butter in front of her, then poure
d hot maple syrup over it. She inhaled the rich, invigorating aroma, tempting her tummy.

  “I know you said you can drive to town,” he said, sliding on to the stool next to her, “but I’d like to drive you.”

  She glanced out the window to see a white valley under blue, sunlit skies leading to Lake Tashmoo. The storm left at least eight inches of snow behind, covering every tree, rock, or leaf in sugary frost. The view was wondrous, calm, and quiet. Exactly how she felt inside. As for the drive out of the acres of woodland to the main road, that should be interesting.

  “What about my car? I’d have to get it sooner or later.”

  He forked a piece of pancake. “I can pick you up wherever you are.”

  Not wanting to jump to conclusion, Claire pressed her palm against her stomach, silencing the butterflies batting their fragile wings. “You want me to stay the night?”

  He met her questioning gaze. “Yes.”

  And her belly flipped.

  “When do you leave for L.A.?” he asked, his attention back to his plate.

  “I’m here until next week,” she answered, her mind still reeling from the overnight invitation.

  He glanced at her. “You’re hoping you win the auction this weekend.”

  She smiled. “I’m going to win.” That she had no doubt about. It was everything that came after that left her a little on the uneasy side. “We are going to have a date and a few more after.”

  His jaw bunched and ticked. “Stay here with me until then,” he said after a long beat.

  * * * *

  He saw the shock register on her face before a small smile played on her lips. He shocked the hell out of her with the proposition. That was okay because he nearly toppled over the second the words left his mouth.

  She looked at him. Her brown eyes warm and sweet, like hot chocolate on a cold night at a football game. “I’d love to,” she said in a whisper.

  He nodded and focused on the stack of pancakes, ignoring the way his heart kicked a little. Okay a lot, over the knowledge for the next ten days or so, it was all about Claire.