Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (69 page)

“Sunshine?”

She looked up, her expression one of loving contentment and passion. He traced her lips as they stretched around him, the smile starting way down deep inside.

“I’m still not forgetting I owe you a beating.”

Her answering smile showed in her eyes. And then, slowly, so slowly he didn’t know what was going on at first, she turned on his lap, tucking her knees under her and called his bluff.

He laughed through his lust, remembering when she would have cowered at the threat, and brought his hand gently down on the right cheek, just under the bruise from her trip off the horse.

Jenna smiled around the thick wedge of his cock before working him free, and catching his throbbing cock in her hand as she arched into his touch. “If you beat me, I won’t wear my new dress to the social,” she warned.

He arched his brow at her. “You won’t?”

She shook her head. Her smile was butter soft as she said, “Nope, and it’s scandalously low-cut. Shows off everything I’ve got.”

His mouth went dry and a spurt of come slipped past his control. Her everything was damned impressive. She caught the small spill on her palm, smoothing it back into his skin with a purr. It took him two shuddering breaths to find his voice. “What makes you think I want you wearing a dress like that?”

Her smile was pure womanly confidence. “Because,” her tongue stroked over his cock in a slow, burning pass, “I’ll let you,” she paused to suck delicately at the little slit, dragging another drop of come past his control, “
only you
…take it off when we get home.”

Love laced with desire trapped his laugh in his throat. He wanted to see her like that, dancing at the social, head up, shoulders back, teasing him with those gorgeous breasts and his own desire, confident in herself and her power. He cupped her cheek in his palm, holding her gaze with his, smoothing his thumb over her dimples, letting her love pour over him, filling all those empty places he’d thought forever barren—catching it, magnifying it, and reflecting it back, loving her beyond sense and reason. Needing her more than he needed his next breath.

“Guess I’ll be holding off on that beating for awhile.”

Her “I thought you might” rolled over his passion in a hot breath of laughter.

She was light to his dark. Sweet to his bitter. Soft to his hard. He traced her smile. She was his complete opposite. Open and honest. She held nothing back, giving him all that she was, expecting nothing in return. Just hoping.

It was that hope that was doing him in. Had been since the day he’d met her. It had steadily hammered at the barricade around his emotions until all it would take was one word from her, and he’d be defenseless.

He pulled her up carefully, settling her across his lap, only to discover that she didn’t need a word. She just needed to wrap her arms around his neck, offering herself, her comfort, her unquestioning acceptance of whatever he needed.

He buried his
face in the curve of her neck, breathing in the faint scent of roses and woman, not recognizing the sting in his eyes for what it was until her whispered “I love you” slammed through his defenses, striking hard at the barricade around his emotions, tearing it down with one unguarded truth until there was nothing left to hide behind. Nothing left to shield either of them.

Emotion poured over him in an unfamiliar wave—relief, fear, joy—and love welled out of the dark place where he’d buried it so long ago. So much love that it swamped him in a shattering revelation of everything he’d tried to deny. He tugged her closer when she would have arched away, holding her tightly as the reality of what loving Jenna really meant crashed through his carefully formed plans. As long as Jenna was his wife, he’d never experience the peace that came from containing emotion. Jenna would demand everything from him, every thought, every feeling. With her, he’d experience life in all its highs and lows. He’d be vulnerable in ways he had yet to comprehend, and that scared the shit out of him.

But nothing scared him as much as the thought of living without her. His sweet, giving Jenna who even now was pushing back to see his face, ready to take on his demons, armed with nothing more than the strength of her love. Son of a bitch, she had such courage.

“What is it Clint?”

He shook his head, not trusting his voice.

As if she sensed how close he was to breaking, Jenna’s hand paused over his heart, pressing reassuringly, steadying him with her touch alone, quelling the desperate flood of emotion that was drowning him, seeming to take it into herself until he could breathe again.

“Whatever it is Clint,” she said, her soft blue eyes meeting his, “I can handle it.”

She was a living, breathing miracle. And she loved him. He rested his forehead against hers, easing her chest into his, letting their breath mingle as he said, “I know you can.”

He cupped her head in his hands and tilted her face for the descent of his mouth, brushing his lips over hers once, twice before smiling into her eyes as he gave her what he’d never give another—his heart, his trust, and his faith.

“I love you, Sunshine.”