Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) (26 page)

I jerk my gaze back up to him, swallowing.

He was still watching me, the fire in his eyes, but there's tenderness there now as well.

Without saying anything his hand on my breast moves down to grasp mine, bringing it up to his mouth. His eyes closing momentarily as he kisses my palm before laying it flat on his chest and guiding it down. Through his smattering of hair, over the ridges of his stomach, and down to the waistband of his boxers.

I’d been following our hands with my eyes, my own hand quivering under his as he moved it, but when he stops and takes his hand off mine I look at him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says, his voice thick.

And that was it.

He closes the gap between us, his mouth finding mine as he fuels my own fire with slow kisses.

He's letting me call the shots, move at a pace I'm comfortable with and that causes my heart to race for a whole different reason than the fact that his mouth and hands are on me.

To tell him just how that makes me feel, I throw it all into the kiss. Changing them from soft and sweet to tender and hot. And when I feel his hand skim back over my body, raising goosebumps all over my skin, I move.

My hand creeps under the waistband of his boxers and grasps his hardness, my own gasp at his girth and his groan from my touch mingling in our mouths.

God.

God.

He’s big, he’s thick, and he’s so
hard
.

My hand starts sliding up and down and Jake seems to decide he’s done.

Not done in the sense that that's it, done in the sense that he’s done going slow with me.

He was going to make me come and he was going to do it now.

Jake’s hand dives in my panties; two fingers slide inside me, pumping, while he brings his thumb into play and circles me. I start stroking faster, my thumb running over the tip, squeezing harder. I want to make him feel as good as he’s making me. I want to make him feel the way I do.

“Fuck, baby. So fucking tight and wet,” he groans.

Instead of bringing his mouth back to mine, he moves down to my breast, sucking deep while he swirls his tongue.

All of it—his fingers moving in and out, his thumb circling, his tongue on my nipple, even my hand pumping him—is too much.

It’s huge and I'm going to shatter.

I try to keep it at bay, try to hold it back, but Jake isn't having it.

He presses his thumb deeper, gives my nipple one last lick before he brings his head up and rests his forehead against mine, our lips a breath away.

“Let go, baby.”

I bite my lip and start stroking faster, my hand twisting as it moves up and down.

What I don’t do is let go.

“Give it to me, Anna,” he growls against my lips.

I start breathing harder, my limbs tensing.

He groans and thrusts his hips on a downward stroke.

“Come for me, Annie. Just for me.”

And when he moans on that last ‘me’, it hits.

A moan, loud and long, slips out and my head flies backwards as my back arches. His fingers leave me, but only so they can circle my nub, focusing all the attention there. I manage to keep stroking as I come and when I feel something hot and wet land on my stomach, followed by a deep groan from Jake, my own orgasm hits another peak. Jake’s movements turn gentle as he comes, but my movements turn jerky as I ride out the pleasure.

“Fucking hell, baby, you gotta stop. Too sensitive,” Jake croaks out.

I give him one last squeeze before I pull my hand away.

Jake's hand however is still down my panties, his fingers moving lazily. Almost as if he's making sure he’s wrung every last ounce of pleasure from me. I finally have to grab his wrist and squeeze my thighs to halt his movements. I’m beyond sensitive and any more would be too much.

Jake pulls his hand free then brings it up to his mouth, sliding his first two fingers between his lips. I can't help but let out a small whimper.

He grins then drops his mouth to mine, making sure to slide his tongue along my lips before pulling back. And damn if my tongue doesn't follow his path, tasting myself on his lips.

I feel myself throb as my eyes hood.

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m not letting you leave this bed,” Jake growls.

“That’s not exactly a deterrent, baby,” I inform him, blushing.

Something I’m sure he already knows.

His chuckle says he's amused but his eyes say he's more than happy to stay right where we are and make good on the promise.

That causes another throb and a clench of my thighs.

And while what I told him was true, that I would never regret anything we did together, I’m not ready to go all the way.

Yet.

Instead of getting lost in his eyes (a major feat I might add) I give him a quick kiss and maneuver myself out of bed, grabbing a couple tissues from my nightstand to clean the mess off my breasts and stomach.

Miraculously, I manage not to make myself look like a seal moving down the beach.

There's nothing sexy about that.

It's easy to ignore my insecurities when I'm lost in Jake, but when the tunnel vision fades they come screaming back. I catch sight of my tank out of the corner of my eye and snag it from the bed, keeping my back to him as I slip it on but trying not to make it look like I'm hiding from him.

I turn around to look at him and see him lounging back with one arm cocked behind his head and the other resting on his abs, his eyes aimed at me.

It isn't so much the fact that he’s been watching me that affects me, but the look on his face.

Tender, a little annoyance (he’d obviously not missed my actions), and a whole of possessive mingled with happiness.

My heart speeds back up, my body and face soften, and I get that funny feeling in my stomach I always get when he looks at me a certain way, or any way really.

“Do you want breakfast?” I blurt out.

“How about I take you out instead?” he suggests, not moving from his spot.

I shrug.

“Works for me,” I say, like I don't care either way, when really cooking is the last thing I want to do after the fantastic orgasm I just had.

Though, I'm not too psyched to have to get dolled up to go out.

Again, Jake, being Jake, must’ve read my face.

“No need to get all fancy and shit. We’ll just hit a spot near my place,” he informs me.

I smile my gratitude and start to head towards the door.

“Where you going?”

“Shower. I may not need to get all done up, but I need to clean up and showering is the best option,” I tell him after I swing my head his way.

“A shower sounds good.”

“I’ll leave enough hot water for you, but I’ll need to dry my hair so is it cool if I go first?” I ask, my arm already reaching for the handle to open the door as I turn back around.

When I don't get a response, I look over my shoulder at him and catch the heat in his eyes and smirk on his face. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's thinking.

I don't know why (especially after what we just shared), but I let out a small shriek and bolt towards the bathroom.

Turns out, I'm not quick enough.

I end up leaving the house with damp hair, jelly legs, and a satisfied smile.

*              *              *

Unlike Grace, Jake didn’t live close.

At least, that’s what the twenty-minute drive to the diner was to me.

The diner itself doesn’t look like much, but I’d been with Maddie on enough of her treasure hunts to know the looks of a place can be deceiving.

It looks like a gas station from the 60’s, mechanics garage and all. It even has the awning that the old pumps sat under still up—minus the actual gas pumps.

The building itself was all brick and glass; the front being the only wall visible that was more brick than glass, while the sides had three big, rectangular paneled windows. Since I couldn’t see the back of the building I wasn’t sure, but from being with Dad around the few old stations he’d demoed in the past, I assumed it was all brick with a singular heavy metal door.

Jake pulls his truck up next to a big black SUV under the awning and parks. Before I can even finish unbuckling my seatbelt and grab my bag, Jake’s opened my door, hand held palm up to help me down.

That's a direct shot to the heart.

I return his grin with a smile of my own before I grab his hand.

Instead of jumping down like I intended, I find Jake's other hand glued to my waist as I
slide
down the front of his body. When I look up at him I see the devilish smile he’s trying to hide and I can't help but let out a laugh.

“Smooth, baby.”

His smile gets wider.

Once we both clear the door, he shoves it closed and beeps the locks, keeping a hold of my hand as we walk in.

This time it’s my turn to try and hide the smile on my face.

As we're walking up I notice the name of the place in simple black script on one of those wooden rectangular swinging signs.

SoVin
.

It’s definitely something I’ve never heard of before.

I was so preoccupied by the name that I didn’t realize we’d walked in until Jake stood still. And when he did, I stopped dead with wide eyes and mouth gaping.

While the outside wasn't ugly, it definitely didn't look like it’d really been cared for. Because of that, I was expecting the inside to look like any other hole-in-the-wall dive. Leather booths, scuffed wooden floors, ugly wallpaper, and a few posters pinned here and there.

The reality was
so
much more than that.

The booths were leather, but the leather looked soft and worn with big studs keeping it (and the cushion) stuck to the bench. The wood that the tables and benches were made out of was dark; so dark it was almost black but it matched perfectly with the shimmery aqua color of the leather and gold studs.

Booths lined the walls on both sides (six in total) while four more matching tables and chairs dotted the center floor. The floor itself was a shade or two lighter than the booths, and instead of the scuffs making the wood look old and past its prime, it gave it character.

The same brick that was on the outside covered the walls on the inside—though, it looks like it’d been redone to look like the worn brick on the outside when in fact it was much newer. They didn’t have posters slapped around willy-nilly. Instead, there were instruments, funky paintings, some autographed record covers, and photos.

Lots and lots of photos.

As my head swung around I saw that some were candid, some were planned, but the vast majority had been taken around an area I don't recognize (most likely wherever the owners were from), Willowbrook over the years, and in the restaurant itself.

And a whole lot of them were of Jake and Grace throughout the years.

My head jerks towards Jake but his eyes are already on me, watching. I open my mouth to say something when a commotion on the other side of the room catches our attention.

A gorgeous blonde woman in jeans, boots, a white tee and a seriously long, seriously awesome boho style cardigan comes out of the kitchen, catches sight of Jake, and is now marching over.

And I do mean marching.

Jake’s eyes come back to me (I’m so attuned I don’t even have to look to confirm), but mine are stuck following the woman as she moves through tables. She gives a quick hi and hello as she passes some of the diners, but a wide smile—that looks vaguely familiar—lights up her face right before she pulls
me
away from Jake and into her arms for a tight, body swaying hug.

I go stiff.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a touchy person and I dig hugs, but I don’t go around randomly hugging strangers. The only strangers to ever hug me were about three sheets to the wind and, from what I can tell, this woman is nothing but sober.

When I look to Jake for help, I see him trying to hold in his laughter from the look on my face.

I shoot him a glare.

Guess he won't be any help.

The lady pulls back, keeping her hands on my biceps to hold me at arm’s length while she does a top to toe, before looking over to Jake.

“Jake! How could you not tell me you were bringing your beautiful Annie by for breakfast?” she snaps, but I have a feeling it was more for show by the lack of venom in her words.

My body, which had relaxed some, went stiff again as I stare at Jake.

He’d told her about me.

Who she is I have no clue, but
he told her about me
.

I have a hard time fighting back the wide smile that’s threatening to split my lips.

From the look on Jake’s face, he's well aware of what I'm trying to do.