If, and it was a huge if, I was going to do something to her, it wouldn’t be here, and it would take longer than the time I had to give her before my next appointment.
I was tempted to use the vibrator on her. Hours and hours of fucking research had gone into that toy. I’d had to make sure it was not only the best, but that it wouldn’t hurt her. That it was safe enough to be inside her while I toyed with her endlessly. But even that kind of penetration was more than I could handle.
“Get yourself off,” I commanded, and her whimper of distress was like being sucker-punched in the belly.
“B-But…” She mewled.
“Do it,” I ground out, and breathed a sigh of relief when she edged her fingers under her belly and awkwardly rubbed herself.
Her legs were shaking by the time she got herself off. It took her a little longer than usual, granted, but I appreciated the different view, enjoyed the more subservient pose.
With her glistening flesh so close to me, it was a severe effort in restraint as I watched her thigh muscles tense and strain to stay upright, inadvertently pushing her pussy lips together.
I wanted, so fucking badly, to slide my cock between them. To spear myself inside her and thrust into her so deeply she didn’t know where I began or she ended.
Because I couldn’t do that, I whispered instead, “Stand up.”
I gave her a few moments to comply, and when she stood, I saw from her dazed eyes that the orgasm had been deeper than usual. No wonder she was swaying on her feet.
I couldn’t resist.
I had to taste some small part of her.
“Kneel between my legs,” I urged her, my voice a silken promise.
Like day flowing into night, she slipped to her knees and sat there, looking up at me through bright green eyes that sparkled, even through her slumberous satiation.
I let myself get lost inside them, allowed myself to be lost inside her, and then, I broke my own protocol, leaned down, and allowed my lips to brush hers.
The way she moaned was something I’d never forget. It was seared into my brain, into my memory banks. I’d remember this until the day I died, and even then, it would be as much a part of me as my bones.
My hands were shaking as I lifted them, cupped her soft cheeks, and finally allowed myself to touch her. To connect with her.
Our mouths were trembling, her lips softly parting as I thrust my tongue between them. As we were united that way, the guttural groan that escaped her sank into my very being, and I swallowed it and her breath.
Her hands settled upon my knees, and the close touch, after four long years of no touch, had me jolting into awareness. But before I could fear she’d touch me farther up, her nails dug into my adductors, high up on my inner thighs, biting through the thick denim of the jeans I wore as she took her pleasure out on me.
I thrust into her, tasting her, savoring her, knowing she tasted and savored in return.
That one kiss was better than a night of sex with Gina.
It was better than a thousand blowjobs, a million hand jobs.
It was everything, and yet it was nothing.
Just like our connection.
It was less than it should be, and on its way to being more than I’d ever anticipated.
As I devoured her mouth, she tore into me, and the only thing that stopped us?
The knocking at the door that signaled my next appointment.
When I pulled back, startled, I reached up and wiped my mouth. “Wait a minute, Jarrad,” I called out hoarsely.
“Sure thing, professor,” was his cheerful reply. A reply that didn’t suit my frame of mind. That didn’t resonate at all with the ground-trembling, earth-shaking kiss that had just decimated everything, razing it to nothing, only for it to be built up once more.
She stared up at me, drowning me with those big green eyes, looking at me as though she believed I had all the answers.
But I didn’t.
This was us breaching that thousand-step journey, and did she but know it, she’d made her choice.
And God help us both.
Chapter Ten
The next two days were a study in torture.
She cooked, studied, went to her classes, worked. I put up with having a strange woman, the new sitter, in the place when we were both out, wanting her to lead her regular life so she could see how much better it was when she was with me.
And though I could sense her contentment, through it all, she watched me.
Phoebe was waiting.
In her own way, she was an innocent, and I knew she was letting me make the first move. But even though she seemed to think I had all the answers, I didn’t.
I was as goddamn terrified as she was.
One night, as I sat at my desk, the windows wide open so the light breeze could slip into the room, I stared at Scottie who stared back at me.
Although she’d first insisted on keeping him in her room, I knew babies liked to explore. Hell, more than that. They needed to.
Scottie, as a result, was now in the know about every nook and cranny in the loft, and I was getting used to tripping over him. As he stared at me from the ground, gnawing on his fist, I wondered what he was thinking.
Wondered if he cared that I’d had to vacuum the floor three times before I let him go on it. Wondered if it mattered that I’d been on my hands and knees disinfecting anything I thought he might touch.
Rosa’s death had been genetic, but I’d be damned if Scottie—
My jaw clenched at the thought, and the urge to get up and clean something else, to make sure it was sanitized enough for him rode me hard.
He had to be safe. As much as Phoebe was. I couldn’t lose another one. Couldn’t lose someone else.
This child had been in my life a ridiculously short amount of time, and yet, he and his sister had taken over my world.
For too long, my days had started and ended with thoughts of Phoebe. But now, Scottie was there too.
It made strange emotions unfurl inside me.
I’d locked myself away from most people after my divorce, not wanting to let anyone in, because when I did, I knew they’d let me down.
Most had believed Gina’s bullshit over my side of the story, but a few had gone to bat for me. Jay was one such person. He’d gone from simply family to friend that day. But I’d lost a lot of kin in the aftermath, and it made me wonder if it was because of Gina’s accusations or because of how I’d treated them.
My propensity to snarl at Phoebe was a habit.
A bad one.
I couldn’t hide from that anymore.
Whenever she got too close, whenever she touched a raw nerve, I’d snap at her, say something mean to make her cry.
Hadn’t I done that this morning?
Wasn’t that why she’d run off to her bedroom?
She’d been in such a fluster that she’d left Scottie out here with me, and it was why I was certain her kid brother was glowering at me with all the disdain an almost one-year-old kid was capable of.
I couldn’t even think of the words that had spilled from my lips without cringing, and Scottie had been there to witness it. He didn’t understand, granted, but he judged me for it nonetheless.
My introspection wasn’t going to improve matters. I had humble pie to eat, a good two or three slices, and I would, easily, because I was a bastard.
A real shit who didn’t deserve this woman or this child in his life.