CHAPTER105
He stands up, his hands sliding across his chest. He looks too appealing standing like that, touchable, grope-able, and I quickly avert my eyes. I’m conscious of the fact my head is now level with his crotch. I’ll definitely not look. Much.
“Because letting her guard down means she lets go of a little bit of control, and she likes to hold it all together. Letting go makes her vulnerable, leaves her exposed, and that’s worse than death for her.” His voice is steady and low. My breath catches in my throat with a tug of surprise in my chest, a little emotional suddenly, as he really seems to know me.
“If I’m vulnerable, people can hurt me. Men can hurt me,” I whisper into the darkness of my room, too honest in my drunken stupor as the words slide out. I sense his eyes on me as he bends so his forehead meets mine and presses our noses together, an awkward position for him, but the cutest move I’ve ever seen him make; there’s something insanely innocent and tender about it. I glance up at him.
“I’d never let anyone hurt you, Emma,” he breathes against me. His hands come down to hold his weight on the mattress at either side of my thighs, bringing his mouth so close to mine that we’re sharing air.
“What if you couldn’t stop them?” I sound young and scared, suddenly serious, and afraid.
“I’d always stop them,” he promises with conviction, and I sink forward wanting the safety that I feel when he’s around me. Reaching up so I can wrap my arms around his neck, I press us together more firmly.
“You won’t always be around,” I whisper quietly.
“I’m always around, if you haven’t noticed,” he smirks, his voice low, urging me to pull my face away enough to stay level with his eyes.
“I guess.”
“Let go, Emma, and trust me to look after you … if not long-term then for these two weeks at least. Trust me to protect you.” He’s so endearing in this moment; I could never deny him.
“I’ll try,” I whisper, not wanting to part from this intimate position. My heart bursts with the tenderness I have for him right now, the sensual emotions swirling.
“Good girl.” His arms slide around me, pulling me up to him for a gentle embrace, lifting me from the bed.
“Don’t call me that.” I pause mid-embrace causing him to halt, my voice childish as his words hit me somewhere in the gut.
“Why?”
I don’t know.
Jake called me that before, and I felt like he was talking to a puppy. Maybe it’s calling me ‘girl’. Ray called me ‘girl’. ‘Stupid, slutty, cock-teasing, little girl’. I always hated it.
“Just don’t.” I flinch as he smiles and slowly pulls me in to cuddle me; I’m on my feet leaning against him. It’s unexpected and so gentle, and I’m instantly sagging into his body greedily, held solidly in a bear hug. When he loosens his hold to let me go, I stumble backward, grabbing onto him, but the sheer suddenness of it catches him off guard. His own drunkenness causing him to lose balance, he leans forward to steady me, losing his footing too.
Somehow, we both end up falling flat on the bed with him on top of me, nose to nose, and laughing like fools at the awkwardness of our ungraceful collapse. His face is so close, like the night we shared a bed, his mouth too inviting. Everything within me is clenching tight, hungry for him now that his body is fully connected to mine in such an intimate pose. His lips are too kissable to be ignored.
I’m drunk, and I’m going to regret it so badly when I sober up, but in the mind of a drunken, wanton female who fancies this man crazily, what I’m doing seems totally fine. I throw my mouth against his in a rather satisfying manner, soft lips hungrily connecting, instantly on fire, aching to feel his mouth on mine, like that night in Chicago.
He doesn’t hesitate, and we are entwined in seconds. Our tongues are most certainly finding pleasure at meeting once again as he slides his hands into my hair and around my throat, softly holding me still. I’m rejoicing in the feel of his muscular body on top of mine, a little wave of smug pride and deep desire. It’s right in every kind of way, male hardness and soft feminine curves entangling.
This is good, too good! The fact he’s just as into this as I am has me ravenous and losing any inhibitions. Panting as my heart pounds from my chest, I’m lost in the perfection of it.
I should really listen to him more when he says to let go.
His fingers find mine, and he presses them against the mattress beside my head, pulling away to catch his breath momentarily, his eyes dark with dilated pupils, so close.
Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.
He regards me for a millisecond, his face in shadow so I can’t read his expression clearly, pondering what we’re doing, then drops to kiss me intensely. Breathing hard and fast, he knows this could go one of two ways. Right now, his giddy head is throwing the sensible option off the boat.
I don’t care about the consequences; I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life. Doubts gone, mind fuzzy with alcohol, for once I’m just following instinct and ignoring my brain. He pulls away, changes angle, and kisses me again, this time sucking my bottom lip passionately. I almost lose all control right then. With his hands back around my face, he’s putting all effort into seducing me and caressing my tongue with a fire that could wipe out cities.
Jake knows how to kiss; he does it like a guy who has learned the art of making a woman pliable under his skilled attentions. I am no different, body and soul screaming for more, heightened, and buzzing with longing. He tastes like alcohol and tropical fruit, mouth soft yet agonizingly sensual. I can’t help but tremble with every movement he’s making. Every slight tensing of his muscles, every line of his body against mine, is beyond sensual. My hands explore his upper torso, those hard, taut muscles, turning me on.
I’m probably the most inexperienced girl he’s ever had under him, but he makes me crave him. His mouth on mine drowns out every good thing I’ve ever known as a pale second. His taste, his caress, his smell, they’re intoxicating, the best kind of drug. He’s making love to my mouth, pulling me further into erotica. My body aches for more while I’m clinging to him and trying to pull him further into me.
He responds with equal fervor. His hand moves to skim the side of my breast, and I softly moan in pleasure. Holding his weight up so he can shift against me, he brings his groin to my pelvis and parts my legs, never breaking contact with my mouth. His body is all over me in the most satisfying way. I’m almost on fire with the longing in every cell of my being; I’m so ready to let him take me that I am rubbing up against his crotch. We just fit so perfectly, everything coming together easily and in unison.
There’s a massive bang in the hall behind us that sends a startling shockwave through the room. Pulling our mouths apart as fright hits me in the chest, he seems to instinctively shield me. He jerks up to look where we left the door wide open. There’s lots of hysterical screaming in the distance as the door fills with the dark looming figure of a man, and Jake turns his head to him.
“What the fuck?” Jake’s shocked and angry. Like me, he’s not happy about the interruption when what we were doing was so mind blowing. He’s still on top of me, braced on his arms, our bodies still entangled. I lay panting, clinging to him, my body buzzing with pulsing heat.
“Jake? Jake?” the voice at the door calls hysterically; I think it’s one of the twins.
“What is it?” he snaps.
“It’s Daniel! He fell off the boat. We can’t find him!”"
