Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (25 page)

“You’re seducing me!”

It was a breathless accusation that lacked any real strength. Clint met it with the truth. His “yes” was strong in contrast to her breathlessness, his amusement somehow kind instead of mocking. “Is that a problem?”

She shook her head, feeling foolish.

He brushed her nose with his. “Must be I’m doing it right then.”

He smiled. Another real smile that took his face from handsome to devastating, and more of the shield she’d put up around her heart dissolved. She’d always wanted to see him smile, never dreaming she’d actually get to be the one to make him. And here she’d done it twice in one morning. She touched the corner of his lips.

“You’re actually smiling.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“You never smile.”

“I’ve never had you in my arms before.”

She blushed. She could feel it starting in her toes and burning its way up over her chest. She couldn’t help it. The way he looked at her made everything seem more intimate. More personal. He looked at her as if she were something special, which only made her more aware of all the ways she wasn’t.

“You must say that to all the ladies.”

He wouldn’t let her look away. “No. I don’t.”

His smile was gone and in its place was the man she was used to seeing. The one who asked no quarter and gave none. The one who gave the truth with no apologies or acknowledgment to decorum. Another spurt of hope shot past her defenses. Maybe she really was pretty to him. She quashed it immediately as foolishness.

“Thank you.”

His focus intensified. She shifted uneasily. Sometimes she swore he could see so deep inside of her that she had no secrets left. His nose brushed hers again.

“Sunshine, someone sure did a number on you.”

“I’m sorry.” She so wanted to give him what he wanted, to react the way he was used to.

His hand worked up her back until he was cupping her head, her shoulders supported by his forearm.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Just means we have a few things to get straight.”

“Just a few?”

He smiled at her stab at humor. Just a quirk of his lips, but it made her so hungry for more.

He nodded. “The main one being that I think you’re so beautiful I’m about to come in my pants just from looking at you.”

The starkness of his words shocked her. The possibility of them intrigued her.

“Really?”

He dropped his forehead against hers. This close she only had a vague sense of his expression, but there was no denying the harshness of his breathing or the pounding of his heart.

“Really.”

“But we’ve only kissed.”

She felt his shrug all along her torso, especially on her breasts where his chest hair dragged on her nipples.

“You’re one hell of a kisser.”

The compliment warmed another spot deep inside that she’d thought forever frozen. She stroked his shoulder and back, enjoying the ladder of muscle flexing beneath her touch.

“I can go get my cream.”

His “No,” was so abrupt it made her jump.

“There’s no need to wait.”

He kissed her hard. “It’ll be sweeter for the waiting.”

She didn’t know how that would be possible but he was the man, and he certainly knew what he liked.

“Fine.” Then because she was curious and because his lips on her neck had her heart fluttering and racing she asked, “Is it allowed, I mean would you like…”

He rose up and eased his body down hers as she searched for the correct way to ask. The settee creaked as he pulled his arm from under her and propped himself over her with his arm beside her chest.

“Spit it out, Sunshine.”

Because she hadn’t come up with any better approach she did. “Can I touch you?”

It seemed as if the question hung between them unanswered for an eternity as he studied her expression and then the muscles around his eyes relaxed and the smile began. It started in his eyes, warming their flat dark depths with light as it spread outwards over his full lips with pure carnal anticipation.

“Yes.”

Another blush surged up from her toes but she held her ground.

“Thank you.”

His hands brushed up over her ribs to the side of her breasts.

“My pleasure.”

She couldn’t help her involuntary stiffening. His gaze sharpened and his eyes left hers and dropped to her chest, searching for the cause of her unease.

In the bright light he couldn’t help but notice and she didn’t want him to see her that way. Didn’t want him to know. She tugged at his hair.

“I thought I was going to get to touch you.” She was rather proud of the seductive quality of her complaint.

“In a minute.”

He had incredible hands. With a touch he could both soothe and coax. It was no wonder he was the best horse trainer around. But she didn’t need soothing, she needed a distraction.

His breath hissed in and she knew it was too late. She closed her eyes against the pity she’d see in his. The curiosity. The disgust.

The rough tip of his finger lightly touched her breast just to the left of her nipple.

“Tell me who, Sunshine.”

She looked down. All she could see was the dark width of his shoulder spreading across her line of vision and the black spill of his hair over the stark whiteness of her skin.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

He cradled the fullness of her breast protectively in the width of his palm. The coldness of his gaze when he looked up made her shiver.

“It matters.”

She could feel him withdrawing from her, back into that place she couldn’t go, where no one could reach.

“You’re scaring me.”

“You’re not the one who needs to be scared.” In contrast to the lethal growl in his voice, his lips on her breast were infinitely gentle—hot soothing kisses of…apology?

“Tell me, Jenna.”

“It’s not important.

“Was it that son of a bitch your father forced you to marry?”

She petted his shoulders. The muscles tensed to rock-hard under her hands. She couldn’t bring herself to lie.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m with you now. No one can hurt me.”

The fingers of his left hand bit painfully into her soft flesh. “I’ll kill the son of a bitch who so much as thinks about trying.”

The calmness with which he stated that fact had her shivering again.

Clint felt the shiver all along his body. He turned on his side, squeezing them both onto the settee, taking her unease into himself while he tried to quell the murderous rage swelling under his skin, breaking out of his control, threatening to explode him from within.

His Jenna, his sweet, gentle Jenna had been whipped. On her breasts. Hard enough to leave scars. Son of a bitch, no wonder she’d been so obedient, blindly doing what he’d asked without a murmur. She had to be in terror of that happening again. And she didn’t think it mattered?

He dropped his forehead to hers and eased his grip on her breast. Damn! He’d been squeezing hard enough to leave a mark. Which had to make him little better than the bastard who had released such savagery on her. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s all right.”

She was always telling him that but he didn’t believe it.

“Do you want to call a halt?”

His cock jerked in protest, but he fought back the selfish urge to push on, to force her to acknowledge him as different. He felt the heat of her blush before he saw it.

“I…”

“It’s okay.” He tucked her into his torso, needing to shelter her as much as he needed to claim her. She tore him up with her vulnerability combined with that inner strength that she relied on to keep going. “This doesn’t have to happen all at once.”

She swallowed so hard her head butted his chin.

“I don’t want to stop.”

He couldn’t have heard her right.

“What?”

“It’s never felt good before. I know it’s a sin, but I just want…”

The rest of the sentence faded off into nothingness.

“You just want what?”

Her hands clenched on one of his. “I just want to know what it would be like with you.”

“Shit!” He was in no condition to take her gently. He was too raw, his anger simmering too close to the surface, blending with his lust in a volatile, unpredictable mix.

She cringed away. “I’m sorry.”

“Damn it, come here.”

She did immediately, lying stiffly against him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Jesus, you should never have married me.”

“I told you I wasn’t perfect.”

He grabbed her chin and jerked it up. “There isn’t a goddamned thing about you that isn’t perfect, but there’s a hell of a lot about me that should send you screaming for cover. Number one being that right now I’m in no condition to take you gently. Like you should be. Like you need to be.”

Instead of flinching away, her chin came up.

“Who says?”

“Who says what?”

“Who says I need to be taken gently?”

“I do. You should have soft words, gentle touches, and all the patience a man can muster.”

“And you can’t give me that?” She propped herself over him.

“Not this time. Not now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re mine, and you’ve been hurt, and it drives me crazy thinking I wasn’t there to prevent it.”

“And that makes you want to hurt me, too.” She said that as if it made sense.

“Ah shit, baby, I don’t want to hurt you ever.”

Her breasts dangled an inch from his mouth while her hand grazed its way down his stomach.

“But you want me.”

“Yes.”

“Just me?”

“Only you.”

Her fingertips inched under the waistband of his denims. His stomach sucked in at the pleasure. Her breasts swung as she hitched up higher. Her nipple brushed his mouth. He caught it between his lips before it could swing back. Her breath left her in a rush. He didn’t let go, just held her in his mouth, meeting her gaze with his, warning her to back off. Her eyebrows arched up. He pulled his lips back, letting her feel and see his teeth. Letting her know he was serious. Needing her to back off, so he could hold onto the little bit of self-liking he had left.

Fear flared in her eyes. Her gaze locked on his teeth. She stopped breathing. If he had any sense of self-preservation whatsoever, he would nip her, give her that bite that would send her flying, but he couldn’t because in the time it took him to make the decision, the fear in her eyes was replaced with understanding.