Dangerously Broken (5 page)

“Jesus!”

But she didn’t stop, didn’t even pause. With her hand still wrapped firmly around the base of his erection, she slid her mouth up and down the shaft, pausing to lick at the head, to nibble, to scrape her teeth lightly over the swollen flesh before sliding her lovely pink lips down again. He’d never in his life seen anything so damn hot as Summer Grace’s mouth on him, her lips wrapped around his hard cock—harder than he’d ever been in his life. He had to close his eyes or he was going to come in her mouth like some sixteen-year-old. Like he had into his fisted hand thinking about her as a teenager, over and over.

“Oh yeah.”

“What are you doing here, Summer Grace?”

There was just enough light coming in through the window of the Rae’s family room for him to see she was wearing that skimpy outfit she called pajamas, but was really nothing more than a midriff-baring tank top and tiny cotton knit shorts. He could see her nipples under the thin fabric of the top. The sweet floral print did nothing to make it any more innocent-looking. His dick jumped.

She crawled onto the couch, straddling his body. He was too stunned to do anything but lie perfectly still. Could she feel his erection through the cotton sheet covering him?

“I came to see you,” she whispered. “I came to see all of you.”

She slowly pulled the sheet down, already the temptress at fourteen years old.

Fuck. Fourteen years old!

He grabbed at her hand as the sheet came down and revealed his tented boxers.

“Goddamn it, Summer Grace.”

He yanked the sheet back up.

She leaned down until her mouth was mere inches from the rise under the sheet.

“Come on, Jamie. Let me see it. Let me kiss it.” She batted her baby blues at him. “I know how.”

Fourteen. Fuck.

“Go away. You have to go. Go!”

She wasn’t going now. He wasn’t about to tell her to. And he wasn’t going to jerk himself off tonight to the image of her hard nipples under that floral top the way he had for too many years. No, now he was going to come with her. Inside her.

Yes
.

“Enough, sugar. And tell me you have a condom in here somewhere.”

She licked her lips. Sexy as hell. Why had he waited so many years? “Of course I do.”

She turned and rolled over onto her stomach, and he watched the curve of her perfect little heart-shaped ass as she reached into the nightstand drawer, pulling out a small foil packet. Instead of handing it to him she tore at it with her teeth, making him smile. Oh, he liked this girl. Every bit the sex kitten he’d always known she was, and yet more, somehow.

She took the condom out as he kicked his way out of his black boots, then his jeans, climbing onto the bed, one knee on either side of her hips.

“Put it on me,” he instructed her.

She slipped the latex down over his hard shaft, and he had to bite back a groan at her touch. He warned himself one more time before he was inside her.

Control.

But as soon as she lay back and opened her sweet thighs for him, her naked little pussy glistening with need and come, as wanton as any woman he’d ever seen and twice as beautiful, he almost lost it. He had to bite the inside of his lip, to take a breath to center himself. And he pressed one hand down hard on her shoulder, exerting his command over her so that
he
would know it as much as she did. He touched the tip of his cock to her opening, and she smiled, her eyes gleaming. One small tilt of his hips and he was in.

She gasped, but she never took her gaze from his. And even in that moment when he thought all he’d be considering was finally being inside her body, the ecstasy burning like a fuse up his spine, something in him broke open. Let go. She felt it, too—he saw it in the way her pupils went wide, in the parting of her lips, the look of awe on her lovely face. And in that moment something shifted. A small voice in the back of his mind told him he’d lied to himself about why he’d come here. It wasn’t about settling some kind of old debt of mutual lust. It was
her
.

Summer Grace.

He was fucked.

But there she was beneath him, all big blue eyes and plush pink lips. He laid a hand between her breasts, felt her erratic heartbeat. Her small fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding him there.

“Jamie . . .”

“What is it, sugar?”

“I need you,” she whispered.

He shook his head. He couldn’t figure it all out now. Not with her naked body twined around his. He’d think later. He couldn’t do anything, couldn’t feel anything but
this
.
Her
.

“I’m here, sugar girl,” he murmured, capturing her hand in his and raising it over her head as he slid deeper into her.

Then it was all sighs and moans, desire met by the rapture of touch and response. Building, coiling. Inside she was like satin, tight and smooth, surrounding his flesh. He pushed into her, slid out easy as silk, she was so damn wet. Her other hand came up, grasping his wrist, and he’d never seen anything more beautiful than her pleasure-torn face, her arms over her head, entrapped by sensation, as lost in it as he was.

With his other hand he brought both her knees up and together until they were pinned between his chest and hers, and he pressed her down with his body. He needed to command her completely, to make her entirely his. Surging in and out of her, slow and rhythmically, then hard and fast, then slow and steady again, desire spiraled impossibly. She was panting, moaning, whispering his name. He swore he could feel every detail of her body: the velvet texture inside her dragging at his rigid cock, her baby-smooth skin all over. He’d never seen anything as exquisite as Summer Grace’s face, those feline blue eyes as he thrust, pleasure shimmering into his body until he was gasping, biting back his climax.

“Come for me, sugar,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Come on, now.”

“Ah, God, Jamie. You feel so damn good,” she panted. “I can’t . . . I can’t believe how good you feel. How you fill me up.”

“Then come again, sweetheart. I want to feel you like a fist around me. I want to feel your need, your clenching. Come, my girl.”

“Oh.” Her voice trembled. Her body trembled. And then her sweet pussy clenched, over and over. Tightening around him like a glove. Like the purest pleasure he’d ever known.

“Ah, yes, sugar girl. Yes, yes, yes . . .”

He shivered as the first wave of orgasm slammed into him and shook him to the core. The last thing he saw before sensation blinded him was her face. The flush of her climax on her cheeks. Pleasure like a thousand glittering stars in her eyes. Beauty like he’d never seen before in his life. Then the world went black as he shuddered and groaned.

“Ah, Christ, my baby girl. Yes!” He could barely breathe, sensation making his gut clench, his balls, his brain. He pulled in a gasping breath, muttered, “Oh yeah. Yes, sweetheart. So good. You feel like fucking heaven, I swear it. So good.”

He let her legs go and gathered her in his arms, holding her tight, crushing her small body to his. She was squirming a little, just flexing her hands on his back, her nails digging in. Didn’t matter. All that mattered was whatever was buzzing though his system. Inside his chest. He didn’t know what it was. Didn’t understand. Didn’t matter. She was there with him. His Summer Grace.

Finally he realized she really was squirming, and her gasping had switched from panting breath to what he thought were small sobs.

He pulled back to look at her. Sure enough there were tears pooling in her eyes.

“Fuck. Did I hurt you, sweetheart? Injure you? I was holding you so tight.”

She sniffed, pushed at his chest. “It’s not that, Goddamn it, Jamie.”

“What, then?”

“It’s this.
Us
. I don’t know why I thought I could do this. All these years of wanting you and you rejecting me. And now you come to my house and take me to bed and it was fucking amazing!”

“I . . . may still be mostly brainless from the best orgasm of my life, sugar girl, but I’m not understanding what the problem is.”

Yet some part of him did. This was fucking dangerous, if she was feeling anything like he was. Things he wasn’t ready to look at too closely. He wasn’t ready to let her go.
Fucking amazing
was right.

“God, men are so dense.” She pushed at his chest again, trying to get out from under him, but he wasn’t having it.

“Let’s just calm down here. Because this was good, and we barely even took the time to make it everything it could be. Everything it should be, Summer Grace. I’ll admit I’ve been dense. I’ve been a damn idiot. But I’m here now.”

“Yes,
now
. And you think we can do this—be together in my bed—as if we’d just met? Had no history? We have a damn complicated history, Jamie.”

His chest was going tight. “You wanted this as much as I did,” he said, his tone low.

“Yes. I did. More, maybe. But now . . .”

“Now what?”

“Yes, exactly. Now what? Where do we go from here?” She sounded so vulnerable it made him ache.

Focus on this—on the reason you came here.

He drew in a long breath. “Okay. This is what I know. I want to see you again. I want us to have those negotiations. I want to play you. Here, at the club, however you want it to be. Can you tell me you don’t want those things?”

Her tight shoulders slumped. She sniffed again. “No. I’d be lying if I did. But Jamie, I feel like this whole situation is too . . . loaded. Do you know what I mean?”

Her eyes were so big. He saw fear there and it made his chest go tight. He stroked a few strands of her silky blonde hair away from her flushed cheek. “I do know. I don’t think anyone but you and I could possibly have any idea how deep this goes, how complicated it is, not even the people who know us best. There’s always been a connection that belongs to just the two of us. It’s taken me a long time to realize it, and feeling that punch to the gut seeing you at the club—I’ll admit that. But I know it’s there.”

She bit her lip and blinked a few times, her features softening. “Jamie? Will you kiss me? Because when you’re kissing me I sort of stop thinking and I’m pretty sure that’s what I need to do right now.”

He smiled. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

He bent and pressed his lips to hers, and she opened up to him, her tongue warm and seeking. And together they lost themselves in each other, letting the worries of their strange and unique situation fall away.

*   *   *

S
UMMER DRIFTED, HALF
asleep, half dreaming. Brandon. Why was she thinking of her brother now, with his best friend lying next to her, his breathing shallow with sleep? Sleep that invaded her body, her mind, forcing her into its depths.

Brandon came into the kitchen, slamming the back door behind him like he always did. Mom hated that, but he did it anyway. It was a guy thing, she knew.

He ruffled her hair as she sat at the table with her history book opened in front of her. “Hey, little sis. I brought you some of that saltwater taffy you like.” He tossed a white bag down on the table. “Strawberry, right?”

“Thanks, Bran.” She reached eagerly for the bag as he sat down across from her.

“What are you doing, Summer Grace?”

“Studying. World War One. Ugh!” She bit into the taffy and it melted on her tongue.

“No, I mean what are you doing with Jamie? Seriously, what the hell?”

Her heart sank, the taffy suddenly like chalk in her mouth.

“Brandon,” she tried to say, but the taffy seemed to expand, and she couldn’t swallow enough to talk.

His blond brows drew together. “Tell me, sis. Tell me why you’re doing this to me,” he demanded, his features full of pain. “Tell me why you’re doing this to Mom and Dad.”

Shaking her head, her chest flooded with panic. She had to explain. She tried to spit the candy out into her hand, then tried to pull it out, but it was stuck. She was stuck. With her mouth full of candy. With what she’d done.

Her big brother shook his head. “I can’t believe you, Summer Grace. I can’t believe you’d do this to us—I can’t believe you’d do this to your family. It’s all your fault
. Everything
is.”

No!

If only she could tell him . . . Tell him
something.
Explain herself. But all she could do was choke on the sugar hardening in her mouth—choke on her own actions while her brother stormed out the back door. She knew he’d never come back.

Summer woke in a cold sweat, clutching the sheets to her chest.

Just a dream.

Brandon would never talk to her like that. He would never judge her so harshly. Would he? He used to tease her about her crush on Jamie, but he was her brother, and he’d never thought in a million years that Jamie would feel the same. Maybe. Why had he said that about their parents? They wouldn’t even care that she was with Jamie. That was crazy. Wasn’t it?

Fuck.

She threw the covers back and threw on a tank top and a pair of shorts and quietly crept from the room, leaving Jamie asleep in her bed.

She went outside and sat in one of the white wicker chairs on her small brick patio, her arms wrapped around herself, trying to shake off the nightmare. The sun was high in the brilliant blue sky and it was far too hot to be outside in New Orleans in July, but she felt like she had to
breathe
.

It was just a bad dream. It wasn’t real.

No, only her time with Jamie was real—that and the apparent emotional repercussions.

They’d stayed in bed for hours, exploring each other’s bodies in a way she’d never done with any other man—and she’d had her share. But this was different. Maybe too different. Especially when it came to her dreams turning into some kind of crazy reality she still couldn’t quite believe. And because she’d realized when she came out of her pleasure-soaked stupor that he was only there because he’d seen her at The Bastille and felt jealous when he’d seen her playing with someone else. She’d laid there for a good half hour but the knot in her stomach hadn’t gone away. It had been a relief to finally drift into sleep.