Passions Recalled: Forbidden Passions, Book 2 (6 page)

She came up empty except for the romance novel she’d left in Jason’s bungalow at the resort. No phones. No computer. No outside communication. Grumbling, she went to the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled as she entered, and she wondered how long it had been since she’d eaten. Not that it mattered, since she was hungry now.

The electricity was out. The stove was electric, but there was a camp stove pushed to one corner of the kitchen counter next to a case of water. Jason had obviously prepared for the storm. She cleared a space for the camp stove and fiddled with the knobs, trying to remember how they worked. One of the burners lit. Satisfied she could get something warmed, she turned it off to search the pantry. It was almost bare, and she wondered what Jason lived on. He was leaner, but by no means small. He had to be feeding his bulk, but damned if she could tell how. She found more cases of water, a box of MREs and the odd can of veggies and soup.

She pulled out a couple of cans of beef stew and bread and then retrieved cheese and mustard from the refrigerator before she rummaged for a saucepan. She dug a handheld can opener from a drawer and used it on the can before she poured the stew into the pot. Then she placed it on the burner and relit the camp stove. She was making cheese sandwiches when the front door banged open.

She winced at the sound and heard Jason walk into the small room but, instead of acknowledging him at first, she finished covering the bread with slices of cheese and started squirting circles of mustard on the opposite slices.

She felt his gaze on her. Desire rushed through her, heating her skin and accelerating her heartbeat into a wild staccato rhythm. Knowing he could hear it, she turned to face him.

“Found some clothes, I see,” Jason said when she finally lifted her face to meet his gaze.

He stood in the doorway, rain dripping off his body. He seemed tense, twitchy and he looked around the room before his gaze finally settled on her. He was naked, all rippling muscle, not an ounce of fat, and his cock was hard. He made no effort to hide it, and she couldn’t avert her eyes. Moistening her lips, afraid of the crushing urge to approach, drop to her knees and take him in her mouth, she crossed her arms over her chest and tucked her hands under them, leaning back against the counter.

He stalked to her and tugged her arms loose, lifting up her left hand. She’d forgotten about the ring—it had felt so natural to leave it on—and jerked free. Pulling it off, she held it out to him.

“Sorry. I found it when I was looking for a phone.”

She wondered if he’d fly off the handle at her snooping, but he just smiled and caught her hand again. He slipped the ring back on her finger and pulled her close, one hand flat on her ass to hold her still.

“It’s your ring. I don’t expect to see it off your finger again.”

The stew started to bubble and pop. He reached over and turned off the burner, moving the pot to the cold side. Then he pulled her back into his embrace and kissed her. Hungry, raw, demanding. His tongue stroked hers while his thumb rubbed over the small scar on her shoulder. His hips pushed against hers, and he maneuvered her until her back was to the counter. His erection pressed against her belly and pussy grew slick with need. His grin was wicked.

“I know what you want, baby.” He took several steps back, took his cock in his hand and slowly stroked up and down. She nibbled at her bottom lip, watching, wanting to take him up on the invitation, but unsteady, unsure.

“Celeste.” There was command and temptation in the growl that she couldn’t resist. Moving forward, she knelt. She placed her hands on the back of his knees and slowly drew them up, over his thighs, to his ass. His skin was smooth, his muscles hard and flexing under her touch. She breathed deep, taking in the masculine, outdoorsy scent that was only Jason’s—that drove her crazy. Leaning forward, she traced the contours of his cock with her tongue, ran it down the top of his length, then the bottom, before taking him between her lips. They groaned together when he slid past her teeth, into the warmth of her mouth to bump the back of her throat.

She pulled back, sucking as she withdrew, until only the head was left. She suckled it, running her tongue over the weeping slit. He hissed out a breath and his fingers gripped her head, urging her forward, urging her to take him deep again. She did, but only repeated her earlier actions. She was too caught up in his taste, in teasing him to give into his subtle demands and after too brief an exploration he took over, holding her still so he could thrust in her mouth, until she was certain he was going to come and she moaned her anticipation. Then he stopped, pulled free and yanked her to her feet, crushing her lips with his.

When he broke the kiss she almost protested, but before she could form the words, his mouth closed over her nipple. She gasped, pushing against him, grabbing the counter at her back for support. He sucked at the swollen tip of her breast, suction then gentle bites, alternating until she thought she would go mad with desire. He broke the contact abruptly and jerked the tank top over her head.

“What was wrong with the bikini,” he mumbled before his lips closed over the opposite nipple.

Her eyelids slid shut, and her body started to shake. She knew the orgasm would overtake her soon, would leave her weak and still needy, because she hadn’t felt him thrusting inside her, yet. Suddenly she needed that more than her next breath. Releasing her grip on the counter, she reached for his cock. Warm and wet from her mouth, it jumped in her hand, and she tried to see around Jason’s head, to see her hand gripping him. He released her nipple with a pop, and she groaned in protest.

“You’re playing with fire, baby.” His voice was gruff, and she knew he was on the edge too.

“I like fire,” she whispered, walking her fingers to the head of his cock.

Collecting the pre-cum there, she rubbed it in, then down the length and resumed her grip, beginning a slow up and down stroke. He released a long hissing breath and stripped off her jeans. Unwrapping her fingers from his length, he stepped away and grinned. He looked her over, a lascivious, possessive gleam in his eyes.

“Two can play that game,” he replied, then lifted her to the counter.

He set his hands on the inside of her knees and slowly caressed upwards. As he did, he spread her thighs wide and sank to his knees. When he reached the apex, he draped her legs over his shoulders and tugged her forward until her butt rested right on the edge. The first swipe of his tongue over her pussy made her grit her teeth to hold in the scream. If she started screaming now she’d be hoarse by the time she came, and she knew from experience he’d keep her on the edge forever if he was enjoying her cries too much. She didn’t think she could take that after a year of celibacy.

He lifted his head. “Stay with me, baby.” His smile was slow and knowing. “No holding back.”

He bent back down, and his lips found her clit. He sucked it, applying just the right amount of teeth, and she moaned. It sounded impossibly loud to her, and she wondered what insanity had made her think she could control her reaction to him. As if to reward her vocalizing, he suckled harder, adding an extra bite of teeth and a finger thrusting into her pussy. She clamped around him, felt the shudders of an orgasm begin, and he moved his head, biting the inside of her thigh, the sharp pain reminding her who was in charge.

“Too soon,” he said.

She wanted to sob. How could it be too soon? That first time, a little while ago in his room, had been the first time in months and it wasn’t nearly enough to take the edge off.

He worked another finger inside her, then another, stretching her cunt to accommodate his girth. His fingers hooked to rub against her G-spot, and she arched against him, again biting back a scream. He laughed softly.

“What is it, baby? If you’re ready to come, all you have to do ask.”

He stopped stroking with his fingers, keeping them still and in place. She tried to move her hips, get the action going again, but he held her still. It was maddening—she was right on the edge.

“Oh God,” she moaned.

She rolled her head against the cabinet behind her. He wanted her to beg, and she was going to end up doing it eventually. Might as well stop fighting it. Her body was so tight with need it wouldn’t take much.

“What’s it going to be, Celeste?”

There was a little bite in his tone and a lot of enjoyment. He was enjoying taunting her, enjoying the control he had over her body and, unless she missed her guess, he thought of it as a small punishment for thinking she was dead. His tongue trailed lazily up her inner thigh, explored the outside of her pussy with the same lazy disregard while avoiding her clit. She wanted him to make better use of it.

“Jason. Please. Let me come.”

“Hmm, maybe in a minute, baby.”

His fingers straightened away from her G-spot and began a slow gentle glide in and out of her. The fire that burned in her veins increased and when his teeth nibbled on her clit, she didn’t hold back the scream. She panted with the need to come.

“Jason, quit teasing and fuck me already,” she yelled.

He lurched to his feet, murmured, “I thought you’d never ask,” and claimed her mouth and pussy at the same time. A thrust of his tongue in her mouth and the stroke of his cock in her cunt were all it took, and she came apart. Her body shook with the force while her mind shattered. She was aware of him moving inside her, faster and harder, until he too cried out.

They stayed still for several minutes, spent and breathing hard. When he lifted his head and pushed her hair from her face, his finger lightly rubbed over the old scar.

“Dinner?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Sandwiches and stew. I was hungry.”

He stepped back and grinned, helping to set her on her feet and steady her. He bent and handed her her clothes.

“Almost like old times.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’m going to grab some pants. Then we’ll eat.”

He strode from the room, leaving her breathless. She turned and stared at the stove. Yes, it was like old times. Jason leaving in the morning, and her having dinner ready when he returned. A little sex to heat things up first. Shaking her head, she searched the cabinets for plates and set two out, doling out the sandwiches before turning the search to bowls, which she set next to the plates on the small kitchen table. Then she hurried from the room to get cleaned up. She used the small half-bath off the living room and returned just before Jason reentered the kitchen.

She leaned her hip against the counter and studied him when he entered. She didn’t know what to make of his mood. He seemed calm, unaffected, as if she didn’t just have a mind blowing orgasm and had every right to do so in his kitchen. As if he expected her to be there, or she’d never left. If only she could remember how she’d ended up here.

“Are we eating?” he asked and arched an eyebrow when she shrugged instead of answering.

He reached for the handle of the pot and carried it to the table, while she skipped out of his path, watching. Silently, he ladled stew into two bowls and set the empty pan back on the stove before pulling out a chair.

She just stood and watched, wondering where the angry man from earlier was. Were they pretending the last year hadn’t happened?

“Sit down and eat, baby. We’ll talk about it after dinner.”

No longer hungry, she sat and reluctantly picked up a spoon, swirled it around without lifting a bite. She refused to meet his gaze. The situation was too surreal to be believed. She was afraid if she blinked she’d wake up back home in her bed. Alone.

“So we’re just going to pretend like we’ve been doing this every day for the last year? No big deal?”

He smiled and took a bite of the stew. “Yep.”

“Why?”

Jason set the spoon down. She noticed he was almost finished anyway, as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. In anyone else, it might have looked like a defensive posture. She only saw the bulk of his arms, the expanse of his shoulders. Jerking her gaze up, she met his and caught his smile before he hid it. She frowned. Being so transparent in her appreciation was only going to hurt in the end. He let her watch him for several seconds before he answered.

“It’s a fantasy.” He shrugged. “Do you have any idea how many times I dreamed you were with me? That you didn’t die in that crash? It never occurred to me after I saw pictures of the wreckage that you could be alive. One of our kind wouldn’t have survived. Hell, my father didn’t. Why should you have?”

“I must have a stronger will to live than you imagined then,” she whispered. She wanted him to understand where that will had come from. She lifted her chin and added in a louder voice that wobbled at the end, “I kept expecting you to come. Even weeks later.”

He concealed the hurt that flared in his eyes so quickly she almost missed it, and she regretted her words. Nothing could change the past. There was no point in dwelling on it, hammering it home over and over again. Even if he were human, he would be dominant and protective. His nature, his character wouldn’t allow someone he cared for to suffer without aid or friendship at the least.

The question was, was there a future for them? And if so, what would it be? After Jason filled his family in on her family’s deceit they would never accept her, and hers had never accepted him. She wanted to curl into a ball and cry, wanted to shove the returning memories into a dark hole where they couldn’t hurt her. She’d loved Jason, been happy and excited at the possibility of a future with him. Then there’d been nothing but pain, physical and emotional. She couldn’t go back to that, but she couldn’t see a way around it. After the year of lies, she didn’t believe he could want her for anything other than sex anyway and that wasn’t enough. Not for her.

He stood and circled the table, pulling her out of the chair.

“You’re overthinking things.”

“No. I don’t think I am.” Lifting her hand, she caressed his face, ran her thumb lightly up and down his cheekbone. “I’m sorry. I should have realized.”

His hands on her shoulders, he shook her a little.