The Closer You Come Read online

  "How far does the vine go?" he asked, definitely not disapproving.

  She pointed, mapping out the entire span, then changed the subject, asking questions about his life, and he answered without hesitation. Quite a difference from Jase, who seemed to guard his every word.

  And yet, she still longed to be with Jase.

  The thought caused her guilt to intensify. Here she was with a wonderful man. A man who checked off every box on her Made for Me list. He deserved a fair shot.

  She smiled and allowed him to take over the conversation. He asked her about the best gift she'd ever received, the most thoughtful gift she'd ever given and the role model who'd had the biggest influence on her life. She suspected he'd gotten the questions from a dating website, and that, too, should have caused her heart to flutter. So adorable! So sweet! A guy who cared enough to try to impress her.

  Though...she tried not to feel as if she was being interviewed for a job and answered as best she could: her happy childhood, a scrapbook she'd made for Jessie Kay, and her parents.

  The waiter arrived with the check, and Brad snatched it up.

  "Allow me to pay for my portion," she said.

  He appeared horrified by the thought. "Absolutely not."

  More guilt.

  As they walked through the congested parking lot, she drew in a deep breath. The air lacked the sweet scents she was used to, and she experienced a pang of homesickness. Not just for home...but for Jase.

  What was he doing right now?

  "I had a really nice time tonight," Brad said as they motored down the road.

  "Me, too." He would ask her out again, she sensed it. But...even though she'd had fun with him, she didn't want more from him--and she never would. Her attraction to Jase had burned away all thoughts of other men. It was Jase's mouth she craved on hers. Jase's hands she desired on her body. Jase she longed to be with--in bed or out.

  That wasn't going to change.

  Jessie Kay's car was gone, which meant she wasn't home. Brad parked in the driveway and walked her to her door. On the porch, she paused and faced him. Light flickered from the lamp, casting muted rays over them both.

  "Well," he said.

  "Well," she said.

  A sudden gust of wind tousled and lifted several locks of her hair. Brad's gaze dropped to her ears automatically.

  "They light up," he said, his tone conversational rather than surprised.

  "Yes." She righted her hair, suddenly self-conscious. Could no one ever pretend they weren't there?

  He leaned down as if he meant to kiss her, as she'd feared, but she backed away. "Good night, Brad."

  A flash of disappointment showed on his face before he nodded. "Good night, Brook Lynn."

  She stepped inside, closed the door and trudged to her bedroom--where she promptly screamed at the top of her lungs. But she went quiet as soon as she realized the reason for her scream--the strange man standing at the edge of her bed--was Jase.

  She threw her purse at him, the heavy bag thumping against his chest. "Jerk! What are you doing here? Where's your car?"

  "You once broke into my room, so I thought it only fair that I break into yours. And my car is parked down the street." His arms were crossed. "Why do you look so sad?"

  "I think you mean scared." I'm surprised my heart is still beating.

  "No, I said what I meant. Sad."

  She didn't want to discuss her ears right now. "Tell me why you're here, Jase. The real reason. And it better be a good one."

  A moment ticked by in silence, tension growing between them.

  "Did you kiss him at the door?"

  The words were a rasp, lacking any type of emotion. But she went still, not daring to hope. Was he jealous? Would he finally admit it? "That's not any of your business, Jase."

  "Oh, it's my business all right, and I'll show you why." Eyes locked on her, he advanced.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  JASE BACKED BROOK LYNN into the door, but still he kept coming toward her until he'd pressed his body flush against hers, her breasts smashed into his chest. He'd been possessed by jealousy for hours, and his control had finally snapped.

  Actually, the word jealousy did not accurately describe the frothing monster that had crawled and clawed through his mind.

  Brook Lynn peered up at him with those wide baby blues, as if she couldn't believe what was happening. "I think I'm mad at you," she said, but she didn't sound it. She was too breathless. She flattened her palms on his pecs in an effort to push him back and create distance. "So whatever you're doing, you can just stop."

  He remained firmly in place. "Whatever I'm doing? Honey, I'm going crazy for you, that's what the hell I'm doing. And if you think I haven't been trying to stop, you're crazy. I've been trying so damn hard, but I've only gotten worse." As the night had progressed, the thought of her with Brad had made Jase foaming-at-the-mouth wild--like a dog with rabies.

  He'd imagined them talking and laughing, Brad rubbing his foot against hers under the cover of the table, holding her hand on the drive home, the guy's thumb brushing over the hammering pulse in her wrist, and he'd wanted to punch another wall. But when he'd imagined Brad taking Brook Lynn in his arms and kissing her good-night...Jase had jumped in his car and sped over.

  When he'd arrived at their house, Jessie Kay had let him inside and lectured him.

  You like my sister more than you liked me. I get it. She's a better person than I am. She's also endured her fair share of heartache and isn't out trolling for more, so you better not treat her like trash afterward, or I will personally separate Big Jase from Little Jase.

  Then she'd gone out with a friend of hers and all he could do was watch the clock as he used to do in prison, every second a new level of hell. Finally, he'd heard the purr of a car's engine, seen lights flash through the curtains. When Brad had helped Brook Lynn out and walked her to the porch, Jase had forced himself to move into Brook Lynn's room. It had been that...or storm outside and attack Brad.

  The guy might not have survived.

  "Well," she said now. "Your attitude is shocking, considering you told me to go out with Brad."

  "No. You're not putting this on me. I told you the choice was yours, and you made it." Was that bitterness he heard in his tone? Get it together.

  "Because I had zero encouragement from you!"

  He slapped his hands on the wall on either side of her, caging her in, then rolled his hips forward, brushing his erection between her legs. "Consider this your encouragement."

  "That's great, wonderful, but let's just...stop and...and think about this," she said, panting now. "A lot's happened today. Taking time to process isn't a bad idea."

  He would give her anything she wanted--except a reprieve. "It's too late for stopping and thinking."

  Her eyes widened. "I just went out with another man. I can't...I shouldn't..."

  "You're not his--you're mine." He leaned down, putting them nose to nose. "You promised me a night, and I will have it."

  Those blue, blue eyes got wider. "Jase," she said on a soft sigh, and he pressed his lips to hers, silencing her, feeding her the kiss he'd longed to give her all night-- Who the hell was he kidding? The kiss he'd longed to give her since the moment he'd met her. One to brand her soul-deep so that she would never forget him.

  She opened for him, not only welcoming his tongue but thrusting her own against his. He tasted mint paired with a hint of fresh strawberries, each spiced with a passion he'd never before known.

  "Put your arms around me," he commanded.

  She obeyed without hesitation, wrapping one around his neck and the other around his waist, holding him close. Both of her hands trembled as they slid underneath his shirt, reaching bare skin. Breathing became a thing of the past. One simple touch, and yet she branded him.

  He kneaded her breasts, reveled in their heavy weight. "I want your shirt off," he said, already tugging at the material. He ripped her bra in the center--will buy her a new one--a
nd bared her from the waist up, flames engulfing his insides. Gorgeous girl.

  "Your turn," she said, tugging at his shirt.

  He jerked the material over his head and dropped it. He meant to kiss her again, needed to, but she stared with rapt fascination at his tattoos and scars.

  He saw the question in her eyes and felt he owed her at least a kernel of truth.

  "Knife fights," he told her.

  "On military raids?" she asked softly, and he couldn't bring himself to nod, to lie to her so boldly. She still thought he was a hero. How would she feel when she discovered he was actually a villain?

  "Fighting. Hard living." In prison. Say it. Tell her. But he couldn't--not yet. Not with her half-dressed before him, almost ready to be taken.

  "They're ugly, I know," he said. He'd covered most of them with ink, but had left a few free. Reminders of what could happen with a single mistake.

  "Ugly? When they proclaim just how strong you are? No. But I wonder...did anyone ever kiss these boo-boos and make them better?"

  A tightening deep in his gut. "Never."

  "Here, let me..." She traced the edge of a scar with her tongue, moving along the map to reach another.

  He sizzled, as if she'd stroked him with more of those flames, experiencing a hurt so good his knees shook and threatened to buckle.

  She reached his nipple, sucked.

  Damn. "Harder, angel."

  She did, and he fit his hands on her waist to urge her into a counterclockwise rhythm, brushing her core against his erection. As she gasped with pleasure, he tried to loosen his grip on her, knew he was squeezing too hard, but part of him feared she would float away.

  "Jase," she said, need thick in her tone.

  Was she already desperate for climax? "Let me take care of you," he said, tearing at the waist of her skirt, dragging it and her white cotton panties down her legs. He crouched, ripped off her sandals and yanked the clothing free. He straightened, but didn't stand, his gaze suddenly riveted on the prettiest little patch of pale curls. He remembered the honey of her taste, and his mouth watered.

  "Part for me," he said.

  Her hands flattened against the wall as she rolled her hips toward him, seeking, allowing him to lift one of her legs and anchor it over his shoulder. He started at her knee, kissing his way up, up, leaving a trail of moisture in his wake.

  "Please, Jase," she whispered. "I want it. Need it."

  She wasn't the only one. Liiick. Right up her center. She was hot, wet. Sweet. And he nearly came from the taste of her alone.

  "Yes, yes, there!" Her scream of rapture echoed through the room, inside his head. "Again. Please."

  He sucked on her and bit gently, then a little harder. As he dragged his fingers up, up her leg, she whimpered, begged some more.

  He slid two into her wetness, and her back bowed, allowing him to go deeper...so wonderfully deep. Another scream ripped from her as she shot straight into a climax, her inner walls clenching around his fingers. He stilled, no longer kissing her, no longer mimicking the motions of sex with his tongue, but looking up at her--drinking in the pleasure glowing from her features--and waiting.

  When she calmed and met his gaze with dazed eyes, he smiled slowly. "I hope you're ready for more. I'm just getting started, angel."

  *

  BLISS, RAPTURE...CASCADES of ecstasy. With Jase, Brook Lynn finally understood what everyone was talking about when they raved about sex. This big, strong, fierce man had her pressed against a wall, stripped her, spread her legs and pierced her with two of his fingers, moving them inside her...so amazingly deep...while his tongue took her to heights she'd never dreamed possible.

  "Jase." She couldn't not gasp his name.

  He returned his mouth to her core and continued to taste her. It was beyond erotic, watching him as unending waves of pleasure washed over her. He reached up with his free hand, cupping her breast, plucking at her nipple, and suddenly there was no part of her that couldn't feel some part of him. Everywhere he touched, sensation branched off, traveling through the rest of her.

  Consumed, she thought. She'd heard Jessie Kay and Kenna talk about moments with their men when everything else ceased to matter. When a tornado could have dropped from the sky and ravaged everything they owned, but they wouldn't have cared, as long as their lover continued doing what he was doing.

  I'm so there.

  Jase inserted a third finger, bringing her to another swift and brutal orgasm. And as she gasped and shuddered, he kissed his way up her stomach, laved her nipples and then straightened. His hair stuck out in spikes; her fingers must have plowed through the strands. His eyes were hooded in that way she loved, his lips moist with the essence of her.

  More beautiful every time I see him.

  Her gaze raked over the rest of him. The scars, testaments to the violence he'd somehow managed to survive. The tattoos she was only beginning to understand. The muscles...so strong and yet, with a simple touch I can make them tremble. The long, hard length of him stretching past the waist of his pants, a pearly bead at the tip...

  Her heartbeat reminded her of quick flashes of lightning, her blood thundering through her veins. Trembling, she reached for him, drew him closer. The heat he emitted twined around her, making every ache he'd caused a thousand times worse--or better.

  "I want inside you," he rasped.

  "Inside me," she agreed. "Please."

  *

  BURNING FROM THE inside out, Jase picked up Brook Lynn and gently placed her upon the bed. He kicked off his shoes, removed his jeans and underwear. The ache in his shaft had become unbearable, but the sudden freedom from the constraints of his zipper provided only the barest amount of relief.

  He crawled up the bed, and she opened for him.

  "I did buy those ex-large condoms you asked for, just never gave them to you," she said, wrapping her legs around him. "Top drawer in the nightstand."

  Smart girl.

  But for the first time in his life, he actually resented latex. He wanted to take her bare, feel all of her and let her feel all of him. It startled him. He'd never gone without a condom, and he wouldn't start now.

  Next time, however, if she were on the pill...

  Next time?

  He blindly reached for the foil packet even as he bent his head and thrust his tongue into her mouth. She welcomed him eagerly, sucking and meeting his thrust with one of her own. Her nipples abraded his chest, a delicious friction that only intensified his need for her.

  "You crave me, don't you, angel?" He sheathed himself and smoothed the hair from her perspiration-damp cheek. "Ache for me."

  Her gaze flickered with a hint of sadness he didn't comprehend before she licked her lips, as if savoring the taste of him. She nodded, saying, "Yes, I do. Please take me."

  So polite. So perfect.

  Reminding himself that it had been a long time for her, he positioned himself for entry...nearly undone by her heat. He pressed in slowly. Every muscle in his body was tensed, ready for action as sweat trickled from his temples, but he never increased his speed. Her inner walls clamped around him tightly, trying to suck him in, and oh, hell, he'd never felt anything so damn incredible.

  "Jase." She clawed at his back, probably drawing blood. "Deeper. Please. I need you deeper."

  Hearing this woman beg for his shaft might have been the hottest thing he'd ever heard. Acting on instinct, fueled by a primal need to possess and conquer, to give his woman whatever she desired, he plunged the rest of the way in. Her hips arched, and she cried out, a sound of pleasure and pain.

  He thought to stay right where he was, to enjoy the incomparable feel of her, to savor, to give her a chance to acclimate to his invasion, but already the tension building inside him was beginning to be too much, forcing him to move. He pulled out and hovered at the edge of her for a second, two, before plunging back in. She gasped, and there were no vestiges of pain, only pleasure, so he did it again. And again. Faster and faster, until the entire bed r
ocked with the force of his thrusts.

  As he hammered in and out of her, he was pretty sure he lost his mind, but decided he never needed to find it. A pleasure fog had taken its place. He existed for this moment and no other. This woman and no other. She surrounded him--branded him all over again. Consumed him. Owned him.

  As she writhed under him, her legs wound tight around his waist, her arms around his neck; her head thrashed from side to side. He stilled her with a kiss. A hard, punishing kiss with teeth, a sharp bite, his body still thrusting, thrusting inside hers.

  "Jase. I'm going to...going to..." Her inner walls suddenly clenched on him, tighter and tighter, demanding their due as climax overcame her.

  He managed another couple of thrusts before exploding, his own climax pulling a satisfied roar out of him. One that nearly shook the walls. He poured every throb and ache into her, experiencing a moment of perfect peace for the first time in his life.

  Utterly spent, he collapsed on top of her. Her arms and legs fell away from him as she struggled to catch her breath. Not wanting to crush her, he rolled to his side.

  Usually, this was the moment he jumped out of bed, dressed as if he'd just found out his house was on fire and took off. Tonight he gathered Brook Lynn close, unwilling to let her go. He was simply too tired.

  She snuggled up close, resting her head on his chest...where his heart still raced like a freaking freight train.

  "That was definitely fun," she said.

  "Yes." He combed his fingers through her hair. "Ask me to stay the night," he said, shocking the hell out of himself.

  Silence.

  He swallowed a curse.

  "Stay," she finally whispered.

  *

  BROOK LYNN TRIED counting sheep, and when that failed, she tried counting naked men, but one hour ticked into another without favorable results. Sleep continued to elude her.

  Why? It had been years since she'd spent the night with a man, and it should have been 1) relaxing 2) comforting or 3) both. But she remained on edge...confused.

  Had this truly been a one-time-only event? Or would Jase ask for a repeat?

  Just then, she hated the plaque she'd given him.

  "Why are you tossing and turning, honey?" he asked. "If anyone should have trouble sleeping, it's me."

  True. The bed was only a full, and Jase's feet hung over the edge.

  "Maybe we should do something to tire each other out," she suggested, tense, waiting for his reaction. Is this where he'll begin to pull away?