“It’s up to you. I can wait,” I answer.
“I could wash your back for you, if you wanted to come with me. We could save time that way too,” he grins.
“Okay,” I answer, welcoming the distraction.
His grin changes to wide-eyed shock, “Really?”
“In the interest of saving time,” I say, pulling my shirt over my head and throwing it on the bed as I walk to the bathroom.
He follows me, and by the time I get to the shower, I’m naked. I turn to smile at him, and stop in my tracks. He’s standing in the doorway in black boxer briefs and socks, his shirt dangling from his fingers, and a horrified expression on his face.
“Jace? You okay?”
“I hurt you. I’m sorry, Bayleigh.”
“What? No, you didn’t, I’m fine. What’re you talking about?” I ask, looking down at myself and seeing nothing out of the ordinary.
I walk over to him, “Seriously, I’m fine. I don’t know what you’re” — he spins me around, so I can see my back in the mirror — “Oh. Wow. It doesn’t even hurt.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, as I examine the blue-black bruises on my hip and ass. They are an almost perfect replica of his handprint, showing exactly how he held me up in the shower.
The imagery makes me laugh, delighted, and he jerks back as though I slapped him. “Jace, it’s okay, it doesn’t hurt.”
“It doesn’t matter if it hurts, I left marks on you. I’ve never done that in my life” — he drops to his knees, kissing the largest bruise lightly — “I know what he did to you, and I promised you I’d never hurt you. And then I did it anyway.” He looks up and I’m shocked to see his lake blue eyes filled with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry, Bayleigh.”
“No, it’s not the same thing, Jace, and I’m not going to let you act like it is. You fucked me out of my mind, and I loved every second of it. Don’t turn it into something it isn’t.”
He chuckles at my wording, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Need to make the pain in his eyes disappear has me dropping down next to him. “Besides, now we match,” I say, kissing the bruise on the side of his face.
“You didn’t mean to do that,” he says, closing his eyes.
“And you didn’t mean to do this. At least I got plenty of pleasure from mine,” I whisper, kissing his neck just under his ear. He sighs, then takes a deep shaky breath in, and I know I’m on the right track. “Don’t be sorry for giving me the best sex of my life, Jace.”
I lick the edge of his ear, and he starts to reach for me, then stops. I grab his hand, holding it to my hip over the bruise, and pushing hard. I hate that he’s linking what Travis did to me with what we did together. “It doesn’t hurt, so don’t be sorry. Just do it again.”
His eyes meet mine, wide with surprise, “What?” he asks.
I stand up, pulling him with me, “Do it again, Jace. Forget everything that’s ever happened to you, to me, everything, and just make me yours” — I turn the water on, thinking that I should probably stop there, but he still looks like he can’t believe what I’m saying, so I step under the spray — “I want to forget everything except for the way you feel inside me. I need you to make me forget everything except for you. Whatever it takes. Please.”
He slides his underwear off, clearly turned on despite his trepidation, stepping under the spray with me, and I giggle. “You forgot your socks.”
He shakes his head, one hand on my hip, the other making a fist in my hair. He tugs my hair, making my head fall back and bites my neck lightly. “I didn’t forget, this way my feet won’t slide while I fuck you.”
I reach out, taking him in my hand, testing. He moans in my ear and I squeeze lightly, sliding my hand up and down. Curious, I let go, then drag my nails lightly along the underside of his cock, from base to tip, then back down again. He leans his forehead against the shower wall above me. “Fuck, that feels amazing,” he moans. I smile, wrapping my hand around him, squeezing as I slide my hand up, using my thumb to rub the underside of his crown. His hips jerk against me, and I use short stiff, strokes, varying the pressure of my thumb. Needing to drag it out, I let go, tracing my nails across his hard stomach, outlining his muscles and rib cage.
He grabs my hands, pinning them to the wall on either side of my head with his own, and lacing his fingers with mine. “My turn, Baby,” he growls in my ear. He trails kisses down my neck, breasts, my stomach, and drops to his knees. He pulls my legs over his shoulders, my back against the wall. When he sucks my clit into his mouth I arch into him, the center of my back coming off the wall, my hands fisting in his hair. He scrapes his teeth lightly across it as I did to him with my nails, and I yelp with shock. His hands grip my waist and he pulls back, “Did I hurt you?”
“No. It’s so good,” I whimper.
I feel him smile against me as he resumes. Teeth grazing, tongue licking, then suckling on me. I moan as I come, chanting his name in my head, unable to draw breath enough to say the words. I barely recover and he begins again. He’s relentless, sliding two fingers into me as he flicks his tongue against my clit rapidly. This time when I come he adds another finger, an endless orgasm racking my body. I feel delirious when he puts me back on my feet, holding me up when my knees buckle.
He pushes me back, until I sit on the built-in shelf in the corner. Still on his knees, he slides into me, his hands squeezing my breasts, thumbs flicking over my nipples. He’s going slow, but my clit is so swollen that every time his pubic bone meets mine I moan. I open my eyes, and realize how controlled he is. He’s being so careful, it annoys me.
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
He continues, increasing his tempo slightly, but it’s not enough. I reach out, my hands on either side of his face. “Stop thinking, Jace. Just fuck me.”
Shock and fear in his eyes, “I don’t want to hurt you, Bayleigh.”
“Please, Jace. I want to forget everything. I need you to make me forget. Fuck me like you own me.”
He pulls out and I think he’s going to leave, that I’ve pushed him too far, but he pulls me up to standing, turning me around and bending me over, my hands on the shelf. He pushes his face between my legs, tongue inside me while he jerks my clit into another orgasm with his hand before I can even register what’s happening. When my legs buckle, he guides me down, impaling me as I fall.
“Fuck, yes,” I moan, as the head of his cock bumps against my cervix. He shoves me forward, my hands and chest landing on the shelf as he slams into me. Little yelps are ripped out of me with every thrust. His hands wrap around my thighs, lifting me until I’m suspended in the air, held aloft only by his hands and mine. His breathing is loud and ragged in the confined space as the water turns cold on my back.
He grunts with every thrust, and it’s so hot, the sound and feel of him losing control. He tilts me up a tiny bit higher, and his balls slap against my clit with every thrust. I come hard, a high keening wail ripped from me, it’s too much, walking the line between pleasure and pain. My arms collapse, and my chest hits the shelf again.
“F-f-fuck! I can’t stop. I can’t…” he pants, then a long, deep growl as he slams into me, holding me tight to him as his hips buck against me, pushing me further onto the shelf. When he relaxes, sitting back on his heels, I slide off the shelf like I’m made of rubber. He catches me, setting me gently on the floor of the shower.
He sits next to me, breathing hard, throwing his arm over my shoulders. “Are you okay? I knew you fell, but I couldn’t stop. I tried. I’m so sorry.”
“You’re kidding, right? I would’ve died if you’d stopped.”
His grin is self-conscious and tugs at my heart. He grabs my hand, lacing his fingers with mine, and pulling my hand up to his lips. He kisses it, then let’s go, jumping up and turning the water off. “You’re freezing!” — he picks me up out of the cold water as I laugh — “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
He runs to the bedroom, carrying me, throwing the covers back and putt
ing me in. He climbs in beside me, covering us up. “We’re soaked! Your socks are soaked! Are you crazy?” I ask through my laughter.
“You’re the crazy one, why didn’t you tell me how cold you were?” he asks, laughing with me now.
“I didn’t want to ruin the moment, and I really didn’t want to move,” I answer.
He leans over me, holding himself up on one elbow, his eyes searching mine, “Did I hurt you again?” he asks.
I lay my hand against the cheek that isn’t bruised. “If you’re asking if I have new marks, the answer is I don’t know and I don’t care. If you call making me forget my own name ‘hurting me’ I give you full permission to hurt me like that any time. Actually, I encourage it. I’ll even beg for it if I have to.”
He laughs, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Why?” I ask reflexively, instantly regretting it. Obviously, he didn’t enjoy himself as much as I did.
He puts his hand over mine on his cheek, turning his face into it and kissing my palm. “I don’t know. I’ve never lost it like that.”
“What do you mean?”
He sits up, and I follow him up like I always have, except this time I don’t bother trying to cover myself up. “You know how much I enjoy getting you off.” — I nod, and he looks down — “I’ve never let myself go like that. I’m always careful not to hurt, not leave marks or be… so aggressive. Even earlier, the bruises were accidental from holding you up, I was still being careful.”
“You weren’t careful this time.” I laugh.
“I was doing pretty good, trying to hold it together, but when you told me to fuck you like I own you… It was like you flipped a switch, and all I could think about was erasing everyone who’d ever touched you before me. I felt like an animal claiming my territory.”
I laugh, and he looks up again, “Me too,” I say.
“You felt like I was an animal?” he asks.
“I felt like territory being claimed, and it was fucking hot, Jace. What you did is exactly what I was asking for, what I needed. Thank you, and, just for future reference, if you ever feel the urge to do it again, please do.”
He laughs, “Are you joking?”
“Not even a little bit. I’ve always wanted to be in the kind of relationship where I felt like the guy couldn’t get enough of me. That probably sounds stupid, but it’s true. I always thought it would be amazing to have someone be so consumed by need that it was almost out of their control. If that makes sense.”
He smiles, “What’s your middle name?” he asks.
The change of subject catches me off guard and I know I went too far. “Um… Renee. What’s yours?”
“Montgomery,” he says.
I laugh, adding the letters up on my hands, “Your middle name is as long as your first and last names put together.”
“Yeah, my mom has a thing about Montgomery Gentry. I was first born so I got Montgomery and Chance got Gentry.”
“His name is Chance Gentry Morris?” I laugh. “Alex didn’t tell me that!”
“She’ll have to marry him to find out, he hates it,” he says, laughing.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’ll have a problem getting her to do that, if that’s what he wants,” I say.
“Me either, and he definitely wants to. I didn’t understand it, but I do now,” he says, eyes distant.
I’m lost in my own mind, barely hearing him, afraid that I’ve pushed him too far with my desires. I can’t believe I said it aloud. It’s the truth, but maybe he wasn’t ready to hear it.
“You think the water is hot again yet? I need a shower to clean up from our shower,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
“Probably. Ben probably thinks we’ve decided not to eat,” he laughs. “Come on, let’s go see, and this time I really will wash your back.”
I climb out of the bed, following him to the bathroom, relieved that he still wants to join me.
Jace really did wash my back, and I washed his. It was tender and sensual, and we behaved this time. Going through my clothes, I decide on a little black dress and black knee-high boots that I only wear once in a while. The dress has a band of black fabric across my breasts, and is sheer everywhere else to the waist. It shows my scars, but not terribly, and I tell myself that it doesn’t matter. It’s my ‘sexy’ outfit, and I feel great in it, but I brought it because it’s the only thing I own that’s even close to funeral appropriate, or at least it will be with the black sweater I brought to go over it. It’s warm enough here, so much warmer than New York, I could go without it if I wanted to.
I stare at myself in the mirror, deciding to be brave and forget the sweater tonight. I do my makeup, which Jace has never seen me in. I’m a little bummed that I forgot lipstick, but tell myself that it still looks okay.
It’s all totally worth it when I walk out and he looks at me like I’ve punched him in the gut. “Maybe we should tell Ben never mind. They do have room service here,” he says, looking me up and down.
“Nuh-uh, I got dressed up, you’re taking me out,” I say, laughing.
“You are breathtakingly beautiful, Bayleigh,” he says, motioning for me to spin. I do as he requests, and when I face him again he bows deep. “Anything you need, I am at your service.”
I laugh, “I need a kiss.”
He doesn’t hesitate, kissing me well enough that I consider the room service option. He walks towards the bedroom, and my heartbeat speeds up, “Where are you going?” I ask.
“To change. I can’t look like this, when you look like that. I’ll be right back, don’t go away,” he answers. He disappears into the bedroom and I go into the kitchen to get a bottle of water. I giggle to myself thinking about him bowing to me. Maybe he just didn’t know what to say about what I said. He’s still here, and obviously still wants me. It’s a relief, though I still feel like I maybe shouldn’t have said as much as I did.
I turn around and he’s walking out of the bedroom, black jeans, black shoes, sapphire blue sweater, and his hair falling in sable waves to just below his collar. The sweater shows off every muscle, in a way that makes me want to reach out and grab him. The color makes his eyes look neon and the way he’s looking at me makes me think of a wolf. A hungry wolf.
“At least the bruises are starting to fade,” he says, and I realize they are. I wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t said anything. He’s the sexiest man alive. “Are they worse than I think they are?” he asks.
His question snaps me out of my thoughts, “No, you look… “
“Should I change?” he asks
“No. Please don’t. I’m sorry, I just… God, you’re hot.” I give up.
He laughs, walking to me, “I’m glad you think I’m hot, cause, Baby, you’re on fire.” He kisses me again. “I’m really glad you don’t wear lipstick, you’d spend all your time fixing it when I mess it up.”
I make a mental note to never wear lipstick again.
“Are you ready to see Ben?” he asks.
“Ben! We should probably tell him we decided to dress up. I don’t want him to feel out of place.”
There’s a knock on the door. “Already taken care of. Can you let him in? I’ll be right back,” he says walking back into the bedroom.
I open the door, and my mouth drops open. Ben, goofy, hilarious, sweet, Ben has always been a handsome guy, but dressed in black jeans, gray sneakers, and a well-fitted, gunmetal-gray sweater, he looks like he belongs on television. The material of his sweater makes his muscles stand out in stark relief without the distraction of his tattoos. His tattoos still peek out from under his collar, but, with most of them hidden, he looks like a completely different person. “Close your mouth, kid, I told you I’m beautiful,” — he leans over, kissing my forehead — “and I’m not the only one. You look gorgeous, kid.”
I laugh, backing out of his way. I close the door behind him, amazed. “You look great, Ben.”
“Understatement of the year. I’m fucking gorgeous,” he
says, grinning. His green eyes sparkle, contrasting with his sweater and the black of his burr cut hair.
“Woah, someone’s trying to get laid tonight,” Jace says, walking into the room.
Ben’s face lights up, “Well you know, you’re not usually my type, Jace, but I’m flattered.”
I burst out laughing.
“I like you alright, but I’ve already got a girl, Ben.”
Ben laughs, “I’m just playing anyway, I like my women with something to grab on to, you’re a skinny bitch.”
“Nice try, but I saw you ogling my ass earlier in the elevator,” Jace says.
“Well, you know from the right angle, in the dark, and if you don’t talk, I could see you as a woman,” Ben retorts.
“I’d be the best-looking woman you’d ever had.”
“I know it hurts that I rejected you, Jace, but we can still be friends if you stop being mean,” Ben says, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.
“Oh my God, stop! You’re going to make me cry and ruin my makeup,” I beg.
“Oh no, we can’t have that. I’ll behave,” Ben says. “We’re still friends, Jace.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jace says, grinning.
I rub my now aching stomach, walking back towards the door, “Where are we going? Any ideas?” I ask them.
“I think we should just walk down the street and see what we can find,” Ben suggests.
“Sounds good to me,” I say.
“Me too, but hold on. You forgot something Bayleigh,” Jace says.
“I did?” I ask, turning away from the door and towards them.
“You forgot my heart,” Jace says, holding up a gold necklace. The pendant is an open heart with diamonds around half of it.
“Oh, Jace. Where did — “
“I got it the day I got you flowers and the mp3. I haven’t had a good opportunity to give it to you,” he says, turning me around and putting it around my neck. He fastens it, brushing my hair out of the way, then kissing the back of my neck lightly.
I pick it up from my chest, looking at it, suppressing the tears. He said I forgot his heart. “It’s beautiful, Jace, thank you so much.” I put it down and hug him, kissing his neck lightly.
Faith (Stregth Series Book 2) Page 25
