by Tracy Wolff
She waited a few seconds after she finished, but when he didn’t say anything, she sighed. “I’ll go now.” Then turned and headed back down the steps.
He caught her before she hit the third stair. “Yes, I love Amanda,” he told her. “I have for more years than I can count. But I realized something tonight, when I was sitting there with you and her and Simon. I’m not in love with her and I’m not sure I ever was. Did I ever think I was? Yes. Way back when I was twenty-two and we were starting med school together. I was crazy about her. But I don’t think you can hold something against me that happened fifteen years ago.”
“I know what I saw, Jack. It wasn’t fifteen years in the past.”
Damn stubborn woman. She wasn’t going to be happy until she got the whole sordid story out of him. And what did it say about him that he was willing to tell her? What did it say about her and the fact that, despite everything he’d told himself, he’d let her into his life?
He didn’t know, but he would be damned if he spilled any more of his guts on his front porch when there was a perfectly civilized living room right inside his door.
With that thought in mind, he pushed the door open and then held it while she followed. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, crossing to the bar that he hadn’t bothered to stock with much more than a bottle of whiskey.
“I’m good, thanks.”
He ignored her, pouring two tumblers of the stuff, neat, and shoving one into her hands. Then he drank it in a couple of long swallows. The burn grounded him, kept him focused. And made it easier for him to say what needed to be said.
“Maybe, in the past couple of years, I’ve entertained the thought that Amanda and I could be together. But even as I thought about it, dreamed about it, I knew she belonged with Simon, no matter how big a mess he’d made of their relationship. And trust me when I say, he made a huge damn mess.
“But I’m the one who called him to come get her when she nearly had a nervous breakdown, because no matter how I felt about her, I knew how she felt about him. So lately, when I fixated on her again—I think because, in my head, she represents everything I once was—I knew it wouldn’t work out. That it couldn’t work out. And that made her safe in a way no other woman could be, in a way I knew—from the second I laid eyes on you—that you couldn’t be. There’s not a safe, comfortable bone in your body. Obviously, or you wouldn’t expect me to stand here baring my soul to you after our first real date.”
He stopped there, prayed he’d said enough for the night, because he didn’t think he had it in him to share any more. It had been a hard night, one filled with revelations. First, in the car, with Sophie, when he’d realized her happiness, her satisfaction, was more important to him than his own. And then later, in the restaurant when he sat there, talking to Amanda, looking between her and Sophie, he’d known that the feelings he’d been harboring for Amanda had really been more about nostalgia and comfort than they ever were about real, passionate love. Like he’d told Sophie, in his head, Amanda represented the life he’d once had and the doctor he’d once been. But that person was long gone, and trying to recapture the past to make himself feel alive again, wasn’t what he would exactly call a smart move.
Besides, not once had he ever imagined taking Amanda to bed—at least not in more than a decade. He’d thought it was because the shooting had messed everything up, including his libido, but the fact of the matter was that he couldn’t keep his mind, or his libido, off the idea of having Sophie in his bed.
“I’m sorry if my perceived feelings for Amanda hurt you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”
He paused to look at her, to see how she was taking his grand confessional, but her face was blank, her beautiful, expressive eyes giving nothing away. That’s when he figured he’d failed, because the Sophie he knew was bursting with emotion nearly every second of every day.
He told himself he wasn’t going to keep hammering the point home, that he’d told her everything he needed to about him and Amanda. That at some point she was going to have to trust him. But it was hard to stick to that when for the first time in a long time—maybe ever—his entire being was straining toward another person’s. He wanted to hold her, wanted her to feel the same need for him that was rocketing through him for her.
And then she did something completely unexpected, so out of the realm of his expectations that for long seconds he could do nothing but stand there and stare at her in shocked desire.
Instead of giving up on him and walking away, she shimmied out of her sexy green dress, letting it fall on the entryway floor. She stood there, in front of him, wearing nothing but a sheer green bra and panty set and her gold stiletto heels.
And then she started walking toward him, hips swinging, breasts bouncing. It was more than enough to convince him that whatever soul-baring he’d done that night was completely and utterly worth it.
She stopped in front of him, looking more provocative than any woman had a right to. For a second, he was afraid he was going to embarrass himself and come right there. Sophie must have known what he was thinking, because she gave a wicked little laugh, even as she closed the last bit of distance between them and twined her arms around his neck. “Kiss me, Jack,” she whispered.
He could do nothing but oblige.
Wrapping his arms around her, pressing that amazing body of hers tightly against him, he kissed her until he was drowning in her. Until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think without it being wrapped up in her.
And then he kissed her some more.
He wanted her on fire, wanted her burning with the same need that threatened to consume him. He wanted to slip past the defenses she’d erected between them tonight, wanted to go back to the way things had been between them the day before.
But that wouldn’t work—for him or her—because his feelings for her weren’t the same. They were bigger now, more complex, friendship a small part of everything that he was feeling. And while he wanted to continue being Sophie’s friend, after tonight, he also wanted so much more.
Pulling away a little, he skimmed his mouth over her rounded cheeks and down the delicate skin of her jaw as the world around him began caving in. As his focus narrowed to the two of them and this one, perfect moment.
He wanted to take her higher than she’d ever been before. Craved it with everything inside of him. And when she reached for him, cupping his jaw in her hand and pulling his mouth back to hers, he knew he’d hit the jackpot.
With a groan, he slid his tongue inside her mouth, thrusting between her lips the way he wanted to thrust between her thighs. Demanding more and more but giving her everything he could, as well.
* * *
SOPHIE CRIED OUT at Jack’s desire for her. His hands tightened around her as if he was afraid she would try to move away, but she wanted nothing more than to burrow against him and stay there for as long as he would let her.
She loved the feel of him, the way his talented tongue stroked over every inch of her mouth. The way his strong chest pressed so firmly against hers. Need raced through her, overwhelmed her, until she was desperate. It seemed like months, years, since she’d last had him instead of a little more than twenty-four hours.
Tangling her tongue with his, she sucked him fully into her mouth and stroked the bottom of his tongue with her own. He growled low in his throat while his hands plunged into her hair, holding her head firmly in place.
Sophie relinquished his tongue with a moan, tilting her head back until she could see his face. His eyes were so dark, his pupils so wide, that his beautiful irises had all but disappeared. “I need you,” she whispered to him, taking his injured hand and placing it on her breast. “Please, make love to me.”
It was all the invitation he needed as, breathing hard, he backed her across the entryway and down the hall to his room. Once there, h
e pressed her against the glass door that led to his patio and held her there as his lips ran over her neck and shoulders and down the curves of her arms to her elbows.
Wherever he touched, fire raced through her and she could tell he felt the same way. His breathing was harsh, his muscles tight, his arousal hard where it pressed against her.
His hands moved up, cupped her breasts and she gasped at how good he felt. Then he bent down, licked over first her right breast and then her left, so softly, so sweetly, that unexpected tears sprung to her eyes. She blinked them away, tried to concentrate on the moment and only the moment, but it was difficult. His every kiss, his every touch, was with complete reverence and care.
Then his mouth turned rougher, liquid flames licking their way from her nipples to her stomach, down her arms and legs until they coalesced at her aching sex.
“Jack, please.” She moved against him, clutching and arching as she tried to convince him that she was ready.
He only laughed and pulled his mouth away completely, his breath a soft breeze over her aching nipples. She grabbed his head in her hands, tangled her fingers in all that silky hair of his as she tried to force his mouth up to hers.
“Don’t tease me,” she whimpered, arching against him. “I can’t take it.”
“Sweetheart, I haven’t begun to tease you.” He curled his tongue around her areola, sucked it into his mouth with a suction so strong he had her gasping.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked urgently, immediately softening the pressure.
“No, no, no!” The cry came from deep inside of her as she arched her back, pressed herself more deeply against him. When he took her again, this time nipping softly, she had to clench her teeth to keep from screaming.
“Take me!” she cried, not caring that she was begging, or that she sounded hot and needy and completely overwhelmed. She was all of those things, so why shouldn’t Jack know? He was the one doing it to her after all.
She wanted him inside her, needed him inside her. Knew, if he didn’t make a move soon she was going to do whatever it took to get him there.
“I am taking you,” he whispered, his breath hot against her breast. But she was too out of control to understand what he was saying, too far gone to do anything but push against him, whimpering, pleading, begging for him to put her out of her misery.
But no matter what she did, he refused to be hurried. Instead he pushed her and pushed her until she was certain that she would fly apart into a million pieces. He licked and sucked and kissed and nibbled his way all over her body until she was on the brink of madness. Only then, when she was strung tight as a violin string, did he drop to his knees in front of her.
“Oh, please!” She couldn’t stop the whimper that welled in her throat, any more than she could keep from twisting her hands in his hair. Rough, calloused hands parted her trembling thighs, and though he tried not to press it against her, she felt the slick, hard scar tissue that took up so much of his right hand.
She wanted to grab his hand, to bring it to her lips and kiss it, so that he would see that she didn’t care, that she thought every part of him was beautiful. But she knew enough to know that he would never go for that. It would yank him out of the moment, rip him away from her, and that was the last thing she wanted right now.
“You’re so beautiful, Sophie.” He said the words to her in a dark whisper that sent shudders through every part of her. “So amazingly, unbelievably beautiful.” He trailed a finger down her neck, over her shoulder, across her breast and nipple, down her stomach to the very center of her.
She trembled—at his touch and his words. No man had ever looked at her like he did, like he really did think she was beautiful and like he wanted to devour every part of her.
It made her happy and it made her sad, made her fall a little more deeply under his spell even as she worried that she was letting him take her too far, that she was giving him too much.
The thought came to her that this was a lot more than a friendly fling, a warning that she was going to be crushed when he chose to leave her for Africa. She knew she should listen to it, knew she should care, but right now she was drowning in the pleasure he brought her so that it was the only thing that mattered.
He was the only thing that mattered.
The thought made heat explode within her, shooting her arousal from hot to feverish in the blink of an eye. She could feel an orgasm welling powerfully within her and she stood there, shaking, while he brought her right to the brink with a few flicks of his tongue.
And then he was moving on, moving down, his lips skimming over the curve of her stomach, down the side of her hip. His tongue made little forays underneath her hip bone, soft, sweet touches that nonetheless lit her up like the Fourth of July. Sharp little nips that had her gasping for air and pleading with him to take her before she exploded.
* * *
HE WAS DROWNING in her, Jack thought, as he buried his face between Sophie’s thighs. Sinking straight into her, into a place where nothing mattered but the two of them. She smelled delicious, like the rain and vanilla and the sweet magnolia tree that grew outside her window. He paused for a moment, pulled her scent deep inside himself, even as he stroked his thumbs closer and closer to the slick folds of her sex.
With each graze of his thumb she trembled more. With each clap of his hands, she took a shuddering breath. And when he moved forward, blowing one long, warm stream of air against her, she started to cry, to sob, her body spasming with even the lightest touch of his against it.
He was going to burst in flames, his erection so hard that he feared he might embarrass himself if he didn’t get inside her soon. But he wasn’t ready for it to end, wasn’t ready to send either of them careening over the edge.
But she was coming apart, her body so sensitive and responsive that it awed him even as it made him shake.
“You’re amazing,” he muttered as he delivered one long lick along her beautiful sex. “So unbelievably gorgeous that I could—” He stopped as Sophie cried out, her hands clutching his hair as flames ripped through her. He kissed her a second time, and then a third, lingering on her most sensitive spot.
She sobbed as she hurtled over the edge, orgasm exploding through her body. He held her while she came, stoking the flames higher and higher until she was sobbing, her hands clutching his shoulders in an effort to pull him up and into her. Her need sent him over his own edge, and he stood in a rush. “I need to be inside you,” he growled, as he carried her to the bed, turning her so that she lay face down across his comforter.
Skimming his mouth over her neck, he reached between her legs to make sure that she was still ready for him. She was slick, swollen and so hot he shuddered with a desperate need to be inside her.
With a groan, he grabbed a condom from his nightstand and slid it on. Then he pulled her hips back, and with his knees shaking and body throbbing, he sank into her slowly.
She felt amazing, smooth and silk and so hot he feared she would burn him alive—but what a way to go. With her wrapped around him like a fist, her strong body quivering against his, he wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever. Working his way inside her as she found her way inside him. Taking all that she had to offer.
Sophie moaned as Jack entered her. Arching her back, she tried desperately to get as close to him as she possibly could.
He held her steady, his thrusts more gentle than she’d expected from the way he’d stoked the inferno between them. She struggled to press back against him, to take him more fully, but he held her steady.
“Jack, please!” she gasped.
He thrust hard against her and it felt so good to finally have all of him that she cried out. “Am I hurting you?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“No!” She tried to turn over, tried to take control, but he wouldn’t let her. He kept moving
against her, slowly, tenderly, gliding in and out of her again and again. The pleasure built and built until she was, unbelievably, once again on the edge.
Reaching behind her, she grabbed on to his hips and pulled him against her as hard as she could, wanting him as deep inside her as he could go.
He wasn’t expecting it, and the move—along with the way she squeezed him deep inside of her—sent him careening over the edge. He brought her with him, into a powerful maelstrom of emotion and ecstasy that took everything she had to give and more.
In those moments, Jack was all around her, inside her. Not just her body, but every part of her. And that’s when she knew why she’d been so upset at dinner, why it had bothered her so much that Jack had feelings for Amanda. Not because they were friends and he’d let her walk into the situation blind, not because she was sick of coming in second to somebody, something, else. But because somehow, in the middle of her project, she had fallen head over heels in love with Jack.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ALMOST AS SOON as the realization came to her, Sophie tried shoving it back to wherever it came from. No good would come from her acknowledging her feelings for Jack. She knew that very well. Eventually, he would leave, would head back to Africa or Boston or anywhere else, and she would be left here to pick up the pieces of her broken life…again.
The thought frightened her, had her shoving out from beneath him while he was still gasping for air. She didn’t care, though, not while panic was a living, breathing monster inside of her. She couldn’t love Jack. She couldn’t.
She started searching for her underwear. She knew her dress was in the foyer where she’d dropped it, but if she went home without a bra on, she was never going to hear the end of it from Sabrina.
“Hey, what’s your hurry?” Jack asked, springing out of bed and padding lightly over to her. “I thought we were going to cuddle this time, while both of us were awake.”