Sleepless in Manhattan (19 page)

Paige.

She’d been off-limits for so long it was ingrained in him to be careful. His hands were anchored by the contradictions swirling in his head. He wanted to take her instantly, and he wanted to take his time. He wanted to feast, and he wanted to savor. To rip off her clothes, to unpeel them slowly. The only thing that was clear to him was that he wanted all of her.
All of her.

He felt her hands on his shirt, dealing with each button with the same deft fluency as she stripped him to the waist. She pushed the shirt away from his shoulders and trailed her hands over his shoulder.

He closed his eyes, absorbing the brush of her hands over his skin.

“You’re strong.” She whispered the words, and he opened his mouth to contradict her because he knew that if he’d been strong he wouldn’t be doing this, but then her fingers moved lower and he caught his breath.

“Paige—”

“Unless you’re going to tell me you want me, don’t speak.”

He felt the soft, slow slide of her lips across his jaw and down his neck. She began a slow descent, each seductive brush of her lips sending lightning bolts of pleasure through his body. She was in no hurry, lingering and tasting before she moved lower. And lower.

He ached with need, so lost in the sensations she spun that it took him a moment to realize she’d opened his zipper.

He tried to speak, to tell her that she couldn’t do that, but she drew him into the delicious warmth of her mouth and the groan that emerged from his throat blocked the words. His ability to think left him next, his brain wiped by the lavish, clever strokes of her tongue. It was the most erotic, intimate experience of his life, and it was only when he realized he was so close it was all going to be over in moments that he finally managed to pull away.

He lifted Paige to her feet, taking back control in a single resolute move that made her gasp.

“You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

“Does this feel as if I’m changing my mind?” He curved his arm around her and pulled her hard against him, leaving no room for doubt. Her eyes were huge, shining luminous blue under the soft, shadowy lights of his apartment.

“Jake—” The urgency of her tone was all he needed to hear.

With his free hand he cupped her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin against his palm and the silk of her hair teasing the tips of his fingers. “Patience.”

“I’m not patient. I don’t want to wait.”

“It will be worth waiting for. Trust me.” He felt her quiver of anticipation and lowered his head to take her mouth. All the reasons not to touch her had melted away, and he kept his mouth on hers as he slid his hands into her hair, his fingers stroking through soft silk and droplets of rain. His thoughts dimmed, the world receded, his senses steeped in texture and scent. Smooth dark chocolate and silk, tropical flowers and summer rain.

She was trembling against him, her fingers stroking into his hair as her kiss blended perfectly with his. There was no awkwardness. No fumbling. It was as if someone had carefully choreographed each move. He gathered her closer and felt her hands slide down to his shoulders, felt her fingers press hard as if she was afraid that if she didn’t hold on he might disappear.

Easing away slightly she took his hand and placed it on her breast, and he felt the lush fullness and the thrust of her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt.

He held her gaze as he undressed her, stripping off the damp layers until there was nothing between them but cool air and the delicious shiver of expectation.

There was a faint streak of color on her cheeks.

Self-conscious, she lifted her hand to her chest. “Does my scar bother you? You’re staring.”

“That’s because I’ve stopped myself looking for so long I have a lot of time to make up.” He lowered his forehead to hers. “You’re beautiful,
tesoro
.”

“You spoke Italian. You never do that.”

“I’m doing it now.” He kissed her. Gently, on the shoulder blade, then lower to the straining peak of her breast. As he circled it with his tongue, he heard her moan and felt her fingers slide into his hair again. He drew her into his mouth, teased her with slow, lazy flicks of his tongue savoring the smooth texture of her skin. His head was spinning with a desire so intense it unbalanced him. But it wasn’t enough. None of it was enough. He wanted more. He wanted all of it. All of her.

She gave a faint moan and then there was no more holding back.

Their mouths collided, fierce, hungry with need.

He scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom, leaving their clothes littered across his apartment. He lowered her gently onto the bed and came down on top of her, feeling her arch into him.

Paige.

Her eyes darkened and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes clouded with anticipation. “Now. Please.”

“Soon.” He kissed his way down her body, lingering, tasting, breathing her in until she was writhing under his hands and mouth. Pleasure slid through him, thick and throbbing, but he held it back, made himself wait as he explored every part of her. He pushed her legs apart, traced the inside of her thigh with his tongue, taking his time.

Impatiently she shifted her hips but he kept her pinned with his hands as he toyed with her, learned what drove her wild, what drew a gasp and what made her moan. He absorbed every quiver and cry, every squirm and sob, drawing out the delicate threads of her response.

Finally, when she was begging him, when he couldn’t deny himself any longer, he shifted over her again and reached for a condom from the nightstand.

She took it from him, fumbling in her haste, and he covered her hand with his and took over.

Her cheeks were a soft flame, her hair a dark, tumbled mass on his pillow where she’d shifted impatiently.

“Look at me.” He paused on the edge of that final intimacy, not because he was uncertain but because he wanted to take his time. He’d been waiting too long for this to rush it.

He entered her gently, but still he heard her breath catch and felt the sharp dig of her fingers in his biceps.

He made himself pause, forced himself to stay still and wait while her body grew accustomed to him. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, but he reminded himself that this was Paige.
Paige.
He lowered his head to kiss her again, felt her relax and shift against him and surged deeper, entering her by slow degrees, coaxing her to take more of him until finally they were so deeply joined that every movement her body made was transmitted to his.

He stayed still for a moment, breathing in the soft scent of her and the feel of her hands stroking her skin.

The heat was incredible, the connection intimate and deeply personal. In that moment there were no boundaries between them, and he knew she sensed it, too, because she stroked her hand over his head and whispered his name against his mouth, her gaze locked on his.

In her eyes he saw desire, and he saw trust.

She trusted him.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No!” She brushed a kiss over his mouth. “It’s just that you’re—well, you know—”

“I’ll take it slowly.” And he did, even though it was almost killing him to do so. Enveloped by the smooth slickness of her, he started to move, gently at first, his slow rhythm creating a delicious friction that brought an agonized groan to the back of her throat.

He locked his fingers into hers and drew her hands above her head, holding them there as he kissed her deeply.

Her thighs widened and she wrapped her legs around his back, lifting her hips to urge him deeper. He released his hold on her hands and immediately felt her touch on his body, first his shoulders, then his back, then lower as she urged him on. Through the mists of desire he heard her say his name, over and over again, and that part of him that kept him safe, that protected him from feelings he didn’t want to experience, suddenly unraveled. The feel of her, the taste of her, the scent of her ripped apart every layer he’d put between himself and the world. Exposed and vulnerable he thrust deep and felt the first flutters of her body ripple down his shaft. Her orgasm closed around him, triggering his own release. As he swallowed her cries with his mouth he knew that no matter what price he had to pay for this, it would be worth it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Love is like chocolate. It seems like a great idea at the time but you often regret it later.

—Frankie

“I
THINK
YOU
might have killed me. If I’d known it was going to be that good I would have thrown ethics and willpower out of the window a long time ago.” Jake’s eyes were closed and Paige was relieved he’d spoken first because she really didn’t know what to say after what had just happened.

How had she thought it would be just sex?

It was so much more than that. The closeness between them had returned, and not just because of the new physical intimacy. Intimacy wasn’t sex, she realized. It was knowing someone. And Jake knew her.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her, no doubt wondering about her silence.

She was probably supposed to make some light comment in return. “We should have done it years ago. I blame you for the fact that we didn’t.” It was the best she could manage, but it seemed to be acceptable because he gave that lopsided smile that turned her legs to jelly every time.

“Sleep with the teenage virgin sister of my best friend? Honey, there’s risk, and then there’s suicide.”

“I lost my virginity when I was—”

“I don’t want to know. I might have to kill the guy.” He closed his eyes again. “If I’d slept with you then I wouldn’t have lived to do it now and think what we would have both missed.”

She shifted slightly so that she could look at the view. The whole of Manhattan was spread before them.

Despite the years they’d known each other, she hardly ever visited his apartment. The first time had been with Matt, and her memory of that visit was of hovering by the door while he and Jake had discussed plans for converting the outdoor area.

Originally a textile warehouse, the space had been transformed into several vast, light-drenched lofts. Jake’s was on the top floor, with views across downtown and the Brooklyn Bridge. It was as beautiful at night as it was breathtaking in the day.

Tonight, it felt close to perfect.

Or maybe she was seeing things differently. Lying here in the safe circle of Jake’s arms, the world felt like a softer, gentler place.

“We wasted a lot of time. I might have to kill you anyway.”

“As long as you do it slowly and pick a method that involves sex, that’s fine by me. Do anything. Have your evil way. Chain me up. Torture me, but if you could use your incredible mouth as your lethal weapon, that would be great.” He slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her head close to his. “My new favorite hobby might be kissing off your lipstick.”

His mouth was so close to hers they were breathing the same air, and that suited her fine.

“Lipstick is my addiction.”

“Kissing it off could become mine.” He barely moved, but his mouth took hers in a slow deliberate kiss that sent waves of desire shimmering across her skin.

She’d dreamed of this for so long she’d assumed she’d inflated it way beyond reality, and yet in the end it turned out that her imagination had produced a sparse, insipid version of the real thing.

Dreams were made of this, spun from hope.

She always said that she wanted to live in the moment, and if she could have picked one moment it would have been this one.

Eventually, when he’d turned her insides to an unstable version of the original, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him.

She snuggled close. “The view from your apartment is amazing. You could sell tickets. I don’t know how you ever persuade women to leave.”

“Easy. I don’t bring them here.”

Surprised, she shifted to look at him. “Never?” She savored the perfect lines of his profile, admiring the slant of his cheekbones and the straight blade of his nose.

“You’re the first woman I’ve brought here.”

The rush of euphoric pleasure made her giddy. “You didn’t bring me here. I showed up on your doorstep and forced my way in.” She slid her arm over him, feeling the roughness of chest hair brush against the sensitive skin of her inner arm. “Why don’t you bring them?”

“Because I’m like you—I like to be the one in control. I like to be able to walk away when it suits me.”

“Are you saying I’m controlling?” In a swift, smooth movement she straddled him, and he gave a smile and closed his hands over her hips, steadying her.

“I have no problem with you being controlling when this is how it looks.”

It looked good from where she was, too. “So what happens? You usually stay at their place?”

“I don’t know. I can’t concentrate on anything while you’re in this position.”

She leaned forward, so that the tips of her breasts brushed against his chest. “How about now?” She murmured the words against his lips. “Can you concentrate now?”

“My mind is blank.” He locked his hand on the back of her neck and kept her mouth against his. “Are you going to stop talking now?”

“That depends on whether you answer my question.”

He sighed and released her. “Sometimes we go on a date and then I take them home. I don’t sleep with every woman I meet, Paige.”

“I assumed—”

“Yeah, well, you assumed wrong.” His voice was husky. “Dates don’t have to end in sex.”

“According to you they do.”

“You don’t want to believe everything I say.”

“If it’s not true, why say it?”

“Because it winds Eva up and that’s always fun.” He smiled, and the smile was pure Jake. That smile, she thought to herself, was the reason he’d had an endless stream of women queuing up for his attention. He’d never even had to turn his head to find someone. They’d been right there, under his nose.

“You’re bad.”

“Yeah. Want me to show you how bad I can be?” He rolled her onto her back in an easy movement that left her gasping and flattened by his weight.

“Do you think they can see us from Brooklyn?”

“Well, not
us
specifically, but this building, yes. I grew up over there.” His mouth brushed over her jaw and down her neck. “I used to spend most of my time gazing over here and dreaming.”

“Was that when you lived with Maria?”

“No. Before that.”

She stroked her hand over the taut muscles of his back. “You used to talk to me about it, all those years ago when I was in the hospital. Do you remember?”

“Yes.” He paused. “I don’t know why. I never used to talk to anyone else. Not even Matt.”

She felt a rush of warmth and pulled him closer. “It was the setting. Beeping machines and stark hospital corridors create the sort of intimate atmosphere that makes a person want to spill all their secrets.”

He gave a soft laugh. “That must have been it.”

“You were the only person I could be honest with. Everyone else put on this huge act in front of me and I put on a huge act in front of them. It was exhausting. But you—” She stroked her fingers gently down his back again. “You listened. You sat on the edge of my bed and you listened. I don’t think I would have got through it without you.” She felt his arms tighten.

“Yeah, you would. You’re tough as nails.”

“Are you saying I’m hard?”

“Not all of you. Some parts of you are soft.” He eased away from her, a smile tugging at his mouth. “The important parts.”

She closed her eyes as she felt the slow stroke of his knowing fingers on her thigh. “You’re a bad boy, Jake Romano.”

“I know. That’s why I stayed away from you.” His mouth took hers as his hand worked magic that had her trembling and moaning his name. It was as if he’d stolen the blueprints to her body and memorized every tiny detail. Access points, sensory pathways—he knew every connection and used his knowledge without hesitation or concession.

She was exposed, vulnerable, and he took full advantage, exploring every part of her with an almost-ruthless patience until her excitement levels were so stratospherically high that she half expected his high-tech apartment to sound some sort of warning alarm.

He held her right on the edge of orgasm, until the only way he could still the writhing of her hips was to hold her down, until she was feverish and desperate. He waited until her entire focus was one thing and one thing only. Him. Only then did he shift her underneath him, trapping her with his weight. Now there was no time for breathless anticipation. No time to ask herself if she was going to be able to handle him. There was no slow, gentle option, no time for her to worry that she might not be able to accommodate the thickness of him. Instead he thrust deeply, timing it perfectly.

He filled her, driving into her in a perfect rhythm until he brought pleasure crashing down on both of them in brutal waves. She cried out, her orgasm so intense and so prolonged that for a moment the world around her disappeared. She was aware of him and him alone, of the hard heat of his body, the uneven rasp of his breathing and the shudders of his own release.

Afterward she lay still and shocked, unable to comprehend that she was capable of a response like that.

Jake pulled her against him in a possessive gesture, wrapping her in warmth. “Sleep.”

“I’m too awake to sleep. And how can anyone sleep with a view like this in front of them?”

“Sleepless in Manhattan.” There was a smile in his voice. “There’s plenty about this city that tempts you to stay awake.”

Him.

He was the reason she wanted to stay awake. She didn’t want to miss a single moment of being with him. She didn’t want morning to come, but soon it would and she knew she had to leave before that happened.

Jake didn’t invite women back here, let alone invite them to stay over.

She didn’t want him to regret what they’d done.

Forcing herself to move, she eased out of his arms and slid out of bed.

Jake shifted onto his elbow, the muscles of his arms bunching as he watched her with that dark, sleepy gaze. “Where are you going?”

It was no wonder he didn’t bring women back here, she thought, because what woman in her right mind would want to leave when there was a man like him in the bed?

“Home.” Providing she could walk in a straight line on her jelly legs. She felt like a tightrope walker, conscious of every step as she walked through the open doors of the bedroom into the living room and swiftly gathered up her clothes. They were spread across his wooden floor like stepping stones, a treasure trail marking the adventure that had led from the front door to the bed. “Thanks for a great evening, Jake.”

“Wait—shit—stop! You’re leaving? It’s virtually the middle of the night.” He slid out of bed and followed her, padding through the apartment with the lithe grace of a jungle cat. “You can’t leave now. Come back to bed. That’s an order.”

He had the body of a Greek god, all honed muscle and virile, tensile strength. How was she supposed to concentrate when he walked around naked?

She pulled on her skirt and then her shirt before she could change her mind. “Put some clothes on, Jake. Over there in Brooklyn some woman is probably watching you through her telescope.”

“Telescope?” His eyes gleamed with wicked humor. “You think it needs magnifying?”

“I—” She remembered how careful he’d been with her, how he’d given her time to adjust and heat infused her cheeks. “Go back to bed.”

He grinned and stayed right where he was. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“You’re not cute.” The way he was looking at her made her stumble over her shoes and her words. She’d known him for years, but this was a different Jake. A sleepy, sexy, dangerous Jake. “You’re infuriating.”

“Admit it, the sex was incredible.”

She jammed her feet into her shoes and stumbled. “It was slightly above average.”

“Honey, I turn you on so badly you can hardly walk.”

“That’s bullshit. I can walk just fine.”

He rubbed his hand across his jaw, not bothering to hide the smile. “You’d find it easier if you put your feet in the right shoes.”

She glared at him and kicked her shoes off. “No one is going to need a telescope to see your ego, that’s for sure.”

“Tell me why you’re leaving, Cinderella.”

Her heart bumped hard against her chest. “Because those are the rules.”

“There are no rules for what you and I just did. It was one night—we both know that.” And Paige needed to leave now, before she started to question that decision. And before he had second thoughts about what they’d done.

And before her friends in Brooklyn woke and asked her lots of awkward questions, although knowing them they already knew exactly where she’d spent the night.

And then there was Matt.
Oh God, Matt.

How could she have forgotten about her brother?

“We can’t tell Matt.” Her tone was urgent. “He can’t know about tonight.”

The smile faded from Jake’s face, and she knew he hadn’t thought of that, either.

“He’s my closest friend. I won’t lie to my friend.”

“I’m your friend, too, and I’m not asking you to lie. I’m saying we don’t need to tell him.”

Jake was silent for a moment and she sensed his internal battle. It was visible in the tightening of his mouth and the taut lines of his shoulders, and she stood, drenched in guilt, knowing that she’d made things difficult.

“This is all my fault,” she sighed.

“Yeah, because you had to force me. Did you notice that?” He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently. “Why don’t you want to tell him, honey?”

He’d used endearments before, but never with his voice so rich with affection.

“You know why. Because he’s overprotective. Because he’d read too much into it. Make something of it. And anyway, what is there to tell him? It was one night of sex.” Until she said the words aloud she hadn’t realized how badly she wanted him to contradict her.

It seemed inconceivable to her that something that felt so life changing and perfect could be extinguished so quickly, but she knew Jake. And because she knew Jake, she wasn’t surprised when he nodded.

“All right. We’ll do it your way.”

She had no right to feel this crushing disappointment.

She knew the way he lived his life, and she, better than anyone, understood the reasons.

His mother had walked out and left him.