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Irresistible Attraction

Page 13

by W Winters


  As my coat falls off my shoulders, I take a half step forward and touch the wall. It’s a thick wallpaper in a damask cream, but it’s darkened by the blood-red pattern within it.

  Besides the bench and a matching dresser, there’s a whiskey-colored leather chaise lounge and a white crystal fireplace that would certainly be the focus, if not for the wooden bench dead smack in the center of it all.

  With the flick of a switch from behind me, I hear the gas turn on and the fireplace roars to life. Jase’s hand is still on the switch when I peek behind my shoulder.

  I dare to step forward and touch the edge of the wooden bench, noting it’s lined with padding upholstered in a soft black leather.

  “It’s beautiful. It’s primitive and raw. Elegant, yet seductive in a way that borders on decadence.”

  He doesn’t respond to my comment, although his eyes never leave me as I walk around the table. “The wood won’t catch on fire?” I ask him, remembering how the flames felt like they consumed everything. I’ve never felt so alive.

  “It’s for fucking, not fire play.” Jase’s words come with authority and a heat that could match that raging from the fireplace behind me.

  My lungs still as I’m pinned by his gaze. “Is that what you think you’ll be doing today?”

  Thump, thump, thump. The pace picks up.

  “I think you’d enjoy it and my temperament hasn’t been… appropriate. I’d appreciate a good fuck.”

  “I can say no,” I remind him, feeling the warring need to give in, to have it all, and to keep my head on straight.

  “You could.” His dismissive nature would piss me off if it weren’t for the way he looks at me. Like he can see right through me, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to see me.

  “I don’t fuck every man I find attractive. Even if I’m willing to admit,” I pause a moment, wondering if I should say it out loud. It brings the truth to life when you speak it, but he already knows. This cocky bastard is well aware of what’s between us. “Even if I’m willing to admit there’s chemistry between us and I like what you do to me. If it weren’t for the fact that I have questions and a debt you’re holding over my head… I wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

  The heat sizzles between us, although the nerves rack through my body. He intimidates me. Maybe it’s something I hadn’t admitted to myself before, but in this moment, as he stares down at me, making me wait for a response, I’m so sincerely aware of how much he intimidates me.

  “Business then?” Jase asks with an arched brow; his expression doesn’t hold a hint of emotion, or amusement. He’s a man in control and nothing more.

  Standing toe to toe with him, I swallow as I nod. “It’s business.”

  “I have the first question, you have the next.” He speaks as he turns his back to me and strides to the dresser, laying my coat over the top of it. He stands there a second too long. The silence is only broken by the pop of the fire to the left of him. The bright light sends shadows down the side of him, and when he turns around those shadows make his jawline seem sharper, his eyes darker and every inch of his exposed skin looks taut and powerful.

  He exudes raw masculinity.

  “Strip.” He gives the command and whatever hint of defiance had come over me flees in an instant.

  I have to lean down to unzip my leather boots, then slip them off. I’m ashamed to say I put more effort into this outfit than a woman with self-respect would. The dark denim skinny jeans take a little more effort to shimmy out of, and all the while Jase stands there with his muscular arms crossed in front of him as he leans against the dresser, watching in silence.

  I can’t even look at him as I second-guess everything in this moment.

  I’m not a whore, but that’s exactly what I feel like. I can’t pretend it’s anything else.

  When I’m left in nothing but my silk undershirt and lace bra, both covered by an oversized, cream cashmere sweater, Jase’s steps destroy the distance between us. It only takes three steps until he’s in front of me, his hands at the hem of my sweater. I’m quicker than he is, my hands wrapping around his powerful wrists. My arms are locked and my nails nearly dig into his flesh as I glare into his prying gaze.

  “I can do it myself,” I say, pushing the words through clenched teeth.

  “I’m paying very well for this time with you. I intend to enjoy every minute. If you’d like for it to stop, you know how to tell me just that.”

  There’s no reason I should feel a sudden stab of emotions up my throat, drying it and tightening it. Or the hollowness that grows in my chest.

  “It’s just business, isn’t it?” he questions and with another thump of my treacherous heart, I release his wrists, waiting for him to undress me like he wishes.

  Whore. Whore is the first word that comes to mind, and how I made it this long without feeling like one is beyond me.

  “May I ask a question then? I know you have yours first, but I’d like to ask one, if you’ll … allow it.” I keep my tone professional as I can, holding back the desire to smack my hand across his arrogant, handsome face.

  Jase doesn’t touch my sweater. Instead he walks around me to stand behind me, leaving only the fire for me to look at. His voice hums a “mm-hmm” behind me. His chest is so close to my back, I can feel the vibrations of it, even if he’s not touching me.

  “Are you looking in to who did that to my sister? If she owed anyone anything?” My words waver in the air and I wish I could hold them steady. I wish I could sound as strong as I feel on my best of days. Not in this moment, not when I’m acutely aware that I’m whoring myself out to this arrogant bastard who could be using me, lying to me and toying with me just for his own sick pleasure. All so I can chase the ghost of whoever hurt my sister. Whoever took her from me.

  “I already told you I was.” His answer is clear and lacks the arrogance and dismissiveness he’s given me so far today. I don’t have to ask him to expand on his answer, since he does that himself. “Her death has caused ripple effects. When I have a name and a reason, you will too.”

  I can’t help that I flinch when he lays a hand on my shoulder. I can’t control the way I feel, and I struggle to hide that from him.

  I’m so alone. In a room with this man I’ve been thinking about for days, I feel so fucking alone. Maybe I made the memory of that night more than what was actually there.

  I stare at the flames lingering among the pure white crystals. I let them mesmerize me and tell myself I don’t have to go through with this. I don’t have to rely on Jase Cross.

  But the alternative crushes me; I can’t risk never knowing what happened and having to say goodbye without giving her justice.

  His left hand finds my hip and he rubs soothing circles there over the sweater. Which only makes me hate him more until he lowers his lips to my ear and whispers, “Does it make a difference to you… if I admit I feel that chemistry too? That I have a desire to be near you?”

  With a gentle kiss on my neck, that hard wall around me cracks and crumbles.

  “It’s no longer only business for me, cailín tine.”

  His words are a soothing balm. One I didn’t realize I needed. My hand covers his, and I lean back into his chest, where he holds me. This man holds me because he wants to do just that. And I lean into him, because I want to do just that.

  “I like it when you touch me,” I whisper into the room, hoping it will keep my secret.

  “And I like touching you,” he says softly and runs the tip of his nose down the back of my neck, causing my eyes to close, my head to loll to the side and the pain to drift away slowly.

  I don’t want to be alone. I almost speak the realization aloud.

  “I promise you, I will find out who hurt her.” His words cause my eyes to open and when they do, I stare at the fire as Jase pulls my sweater over my head. It falls to the floor and then he whispers against the shell of my ear, “I will make them pay for what they did. And you will know every detail.”
>
  Jase

  When she turns in my arms, I don’t expect her to devour me with a kiss full of need and hunger. She can only hold up the hate routine for so long before her arms get weak and tired, and her body gives in to what it needs.

  Pressing her lips to mine and spearing her fingers through my hair, she pulls me lower to her, standing on her tiptoes and holding her body against mine.

  My tongue dives into her hot mouth, feeling the heat and need and lust she has to offer.

  Her head falls back so she can breathe, deep and chaotically. I don’t need air. I need to devour her.

  With my arms wrapped around her and my lips traveling down her neck, down her bare shoulder, I take in every inch of her. Inhaling her sweet scent, memorizing the alluring sounds she lets slip from her lips. Dragging my teeth back up her neck, I hear her hiss my name, “Jase.”

  “Make me forget,” she whimpers against my lips before I can ravage her.

  Make me forget.

  I don’t speak the only response I can give her. I will, if you do the same for me.

  Slamming my lips against hers, I grab her ass and lift her into my arms. Her legs straddle my waist as I carry her to the table.

  Her hips need to be nestled against the padding, and the strap is meant to keep her in place. But I have no time for any of it. The urgency of our heated kiss fuels a primitive side of me with the need to have her under me as soon as possible.

  With her heels digging into my ass, spurring me on, I groan in the hot air between us, “I need to be inside of you.”

  Her lips part, and I can almost hear her say the words. I know what she’s going to say before she says it, I need you too.

  But her gaze lingers, time pauses and the truth is lost in a haze of want and need.

  Instead she kisses me, long and deep. Massaging my tongue and taking everything she wants with our kiss.

  With her ass supported by the bench, I unbutton and unzip my jeans, letting them fall as I stroke my cock.

  “I need you,” she whispers into my mouth and then kisses me reverently again.

  She’s already wet, but so tight. Pushing two fingers inside of her, I stretch her until she can take three. “Your cunt was made for me to fuck,” I tell her as I drag my knuckles against her front wall.

  Her grip on the edge of the table nearly slips as her pussy spasms around my fingers.

  I don’t stop fucking her until her release is passed and her chest heaves for air and her face is flushed.

  “Flip over,” I command her but it’s unneeded. I take the task on myself, gripping her hips and butting them against the bench.

  Moving the head of my cock to her core, I press against her gently, not pushing in just yet.

  A deep groan leaves me as I bend over her, my chest against her back. “You feel so fucking good,” I whisper against her and just as she lifts her head to respond, I slam myself inside of her. Every inch of me in one swift stroke.

  Her mouth drops open with a scream and her nails dig into the wood. Fuck, she’s tight, so tight it almost hurts and I have to clench my jaw and force myself to slam into her over and over again.

  Her small body jostles against the table and I know there will be bruises tomorrow. I’ll be a happy man if she can’t even walk.

  A strangled noise leaves her as she gets impossibly tighter, cumming all over my cock.

  “Jase,” she moans my name, arching her back and scratching the wood as her body stiffens with her release.

  With one hand on my shoulder, keeping her arched, and the other on her hip to pin her against the table, I ride through her release, taking her savagely and with no mercy.

  It’s more than just fucking her, this is about owning her and I don’t know when that happened.

  She adjusts to me soon enough and my thrusts pick up, my balls drawing up with the need to release, but I can’t give in just yet.

  A desperate moan, loud and uncontrolled, fills the air. In an attempt to silence it, Beth covers her mouth with both hands as I thrust again and again.

  “Don’t you fucking dare.” The words leave me at the same time that I grab her arms, pulling her hands away as I continue to fuck her with a ruthless pace.

  Her upper body sways with every hard push of my hips against her ass.

  “I want to hear every fucking sound.” The words come out rough, from deep in my chest. “Scream for me.”

  Jase

  “I think I should leave.” Bethany’s cadence is soft and innocent, and it doesn’t hold any of the regret I’m sure she’s feeling.

  She’s been silent since I brought her into the bedroom. Limp, well fucked, and sated.

  And questioning everything.

  I know the war that rages inside of her. I feel the same.

  It’s not just business. And there’s no justification for the two of us being together.

  She knows it. I know it. It’s easy to get lost in each other’s touch, but when it’s over, what’s left?

  Beth turns in my bed, careful not to disturb the sheets to face me. Her small hand rests against my chest and I lift mine up to hers, holding her hand and bringing it to my lips so I can kiss her knuckles.

  I don’t know what this is. Or where it’s going. All I know is that we shouldn’t be doing it. She knows it too.

  “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” she asks, not even looking me in the eyes.

  I nod, forcing her to peek up at me, and the well of emotion I’m feeling sinks deep into the soft browns and hints of green in her gaze.

  I move to lie on my back as she scoots to the edge of the bed and quietly picks up her sweater from the pile of clothes we carried in from the den. I watch the dim light kiss the curves of her body until it’s covered by the soft fabric.

  Listening to her bare feet pad on the floor, then the flick of the light switch and the running water, I stare at the ceiling, knowing I need to give her an answer to her unspoken question, but the moment I do, I may lose her forever.

  “You take medication?” Beth’s question brings my attention to her as she stands in the threshold of the bathroom. One hand on the door, the other on a bottle of unmarked pills.

  “No,” I answer her, feeling the tension thicken.

  Her weight shifts from one foot to the other. “So… you just keep your product in your bathroom then?” she dares to speak.

  “My product?” I’m quick to throw off the covers and stalk toward her. My shoulders feel tense, hearing the confrontation in her voice. Maybe she just wants to pick a fight. Something she knows will end whatever it is between us and she can go back to pretending, it’s just business. Bull-fucking-shit. I won’t allow it.

  “For a moment, I forgot. For a moment,” she says under her breath, shutting the medicine cabinet. She turns around before I get to her and looks me in the eyes as she takes a step forward to meet me. “I was looking for Advil. And I thought…” She trails off and swallows hard, pulling her hair into a ponytail before continuing to speak. “For a moment, I forgot and I don’t know how that’s fucking possible.”

  I expect anger, but all I see in her features are disappointment and sadness. “Of course you have drugs here. You’re a drug dealer.”

  Even as she stares at me, her eyes gloss over. She’s so close to the edge of breaking. Looking for anything to push her over so she doesn’t have to deal with the real cause of her pain.

  Reaching around her, I open the medicine cabinet door and pull out the pills. “They’re for sleeping,” I tell her, and my voice comes out hard.

  She tries to maneuver around me, but with my other hand, I grip her hip and keep her right there. “That’s all they are. I don’t do drugs and I don’t like what I do, but I have to do it.”

  “You don’t-”

  My finger over her lips silences her. Her eyes spark and rage, but beneath the anger there’s so much more.

  “You don’t have to understand.” She pulls my hand away from her mouth just then.


  “Yes, I do,” she says and shakes her head. “You don’t understand. I am not okay.” Her last word cracks. “I don’t know when I became this woman, or if I was always like this and never knew it because I was too busy solving someone else’s problem. But right now, I have nothing.” She swallows thickly, holding on to her strength. “I feel like my life is on the precipice of changing forever. And I don’t want to go back to the girl I was, but I don’t like where this is headed either. I don’t have answers, and I need answers.”

  Her hand is still firmly gripping my wrist, and I stare at it until she loosens her hold.

  “What answers do you need?”

  My patience with her is higher than it should be. I’m softer and more willing to be gentle with her.

  “I don’t like what you do.”

  “That’s not a question to be answered.”

  “Well I don’t like it. I don’t like that I like you.”

  I let her raised voice and condescension slide. For now. Only because it’s true. She’s only being honest, and I get it.

  “Someone’s going to do it, Bethany. There will always be someone in my position. You can’t stop that. I can at least have control if I’m that someone.”

  “You sell drugs?” she asks, staring at the door to the bathroom before looking me in the eyes.

  “You know I do. That answer isn’t going to change.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a long story,” I say, keeping my voice firm.

  “I have time.”

  “I don’t want to tell it right now.”

  “Why are you making me pay Jenny’s debt?” Her wide eyes beg me to give an answer that will calm her fears. I can see it clearly. “You didn’t mention it when you came to the house. It wasn’t until after you brought me here. And you don’t need the money, that’s for damn sure.” Her gaze searches mine, looking for the only words she wants to hear.

 

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