Uncontrollable Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 3) (20 page)

He turned around, vest in his hands and strode toward me. I wrapped my arms around my body and stared back at him.

“Put it on,” he whispered, handing me the leather vest.

My heart beat rapidly inside my chest as I gazed up at him, taking the soft worn leather in my hands. He nodded, and I slipped my arms through the leather. I closed my eyes, the smell of his cologne lingering on the leather and seeping into me. I ran my fingers over the front of the vest, the leather like butter beneath my fingertips. It didn’t matter that the vest was too big, or that I was naked beneath it, wearing his cut made him mine and even if it was for just a short while, I’d take it.

“Fuck, Reina,” he growled, leaning back on his heels. “What are you doing to me, woman?”

I opened my eyes and stared into his tortured face and that was all I needed. To see him so vulnerable and raw turned me on, made me want him more than I ever had before.

I stepped closer, pressed my palms against his chest and pushed him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. I leaned down and worked the thermal over his stomach, he lifted his arms over his head aiding in the removal of his shirt.

I gripped his broad shoulders and cocked my head to the side as I ran my hands down his chest, over all the ink that decorated his olive skin. Over his heart was the face of a little boy, his son, Jack’s biggest scar of all. I ran my fingers over the tattoo, outlining the features of the adorable child that left this earth too soon. He turned his head and let out a harsh breath, tearing my attention away from his tattoo back to his face. I brought my hand to his cheek and turned his head so he was forced to meet my gaze.

“He was beautiful,” I whispered, running my thumb over his lower lip as his eyes glistened looking into mine.

“It’s okay, Jack, he’s okay,” I whispered, bending down to press my lips to his. “Nothing can ever hurt your precious boy,” I murmured against his mouth.

I kissed him softly, felt his hands grip my face then threading desperately through my hair before he deepened the kiss. I fell onto his lap and he flipped me onto my back as his tongue pushed inside of my mouth.

He pushed himself up, his palms digging into the mattress and glanced down at me.

“No more talking, Reina, not another goddamn word,” he hissed, dropping his mouth to my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

I spread myself wide, hooked my fingers through the belt loops on his jeans and pulled him between my legs. Hardness pressed against all my softness as I lifted my hips to grind my body against his.

His tongue assaulted my skin between the valley of my breasts before his hot, wet mouth closed over my nipple. His teeth nipped, his tongue soothed, his lips sucked, making my breasts swell and my nipples hard. The scruff lining his jaw grazed the tender flesh surrounding my nipples, leaving my skin red and irritated. I was branded by him.

I felt his fingers slide down my stomach, his hands moving to my thighs, forcefully spreading them as wide as they allowed. His mouth stilled at my belly button and then he moved off me, pushing onto his feet. His eyes zeroing in on the part of me that was dripping with need for him, the part of me that was truly his.

With a crazed look in his eyes he kicked off his boots, unbuttoned his jeans and slid them and his boxer briefs down his legs. Naked and hard, exposed to me, Jack was everything. He wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping it with his fist and I found myself sliding my fingers over my pussy.

“Thatta’ girl, do it,” he commanded. “Fuck yourself, Reina,” he grunted.

I slid one finger into my wetness, arched my hips off the mattress, added another finger and slid them in and out of my heat, all the while keeping my eyes on Jack as he jerked his cock.

Moaning, I pressed my thumb against my clit, the bundle of nerves coming alive under the pressure.

“Look like a fucking dream on my bed, in my cut, fucking yourself—sweetest dream I’ve ever known,” he ground out.

His hand dropped from his cock and he moved between my legs, tugging my wrist, pulling my fingers out from me and up to his mouth. He wrapped his lips around my fingers and sucked them dry.

I lifted my back off the bed and knelt on the mattress, his hands gripped the leather vest to pull me against him, his mouth falling over mine. His tongue slid over mine and I could taste the subtle remnants of myself that lingered in his mouth.

I closed my hand over his cock, the throb against my palm and the need to have him deep in my mouth washed over me. Breathless and wanton, I pulled my mouth from his.

“I want to wrap my mouth around your cock,” I whispered, leaning close to him, stroking him gently.

“Want to feel you in my throat,” I begged, before taking his hands and tugging him onto the bed. He rolled onto his back and I threw my leg over his body, straddling him as he brought his hands to rest under his head.

“Go for it, Sunshine, take my cock,” he dared.

I slid down his body, brought his cock to my lips and opened my mouth. I worked him as deep as he’d go. I sucked him, feeling the throb against my tongue and the beginnings of his orgasm trickling down my throat.

He gripped my hair, pulled out of my mouth and flipped me onto my back, spreading the folds of his vest apart and cupping my tits in his hands.

I licked my lips as he nudged my legs apart. His cock pulsed, veins hardened, and the tip glistened as he moved his hand to his shaft and guided himself to my pussy.

He bent down, covered my nipple with his mouth and drove his cock into me. I gasped, wrapping my arms around his back, my nails clawing his skin as he rocked into me, hard and greedy, pushing in and slipping out.

“Not sure about much, but pretty fucking sure that my cock belongs to that tight fucking pussy,” he grunted against my ear, charging into me again. I lifted my hips, skin slapped skin, sweat spreading across our bodies like a wild fire as his cock pushed so deep inside of me I thought he would tear me apart.

He brought my leg over his shoulder changing positions. His eyes dipped to where our bodies joined, forcing mine to follow. Friction built, his pace quickened and before I could control it, I was screaming his name over and over, succumbing to my orgasm.

“That’s my girl, fucking beautiful when she’s coming around my cock,” he panted, before dropping his head back and groaning. The cords in his neck straining, his eyes closed. He looked at peace as he gave me his release.

I stared up at him through my hooded eyes, feeling him throbbing inside of me, never wanting it to end.

His beautiful features contorting in ecstasy.

I did that to him.

Mine.

If only for tonight.

He straightened up, opened his eyes and glanced down at me.

“You,” he whispered.

“Me,” I confirmed, inhaling a sharp breath. I watched his neck work as he swallowed hard and stared at me in wonderment.

He dropped his weight, his body falling over mine, still joined, he wrapped his arms around me and rolled us over with the last bit of strength he had. He kissed the top of my head and I rested my hand over his heart, over his tattoo. His hand slid to my puckered flesh, squeezing gently.

In the dark night, silence fell over us. Scar to scar, soul to soul, I closed my eyes and listened to Jack’s heartbeat, a rhythm that matched my own. I fell asleep in the arms of the man who healed me.

“Dad?”

I turned around slowly, searching for the face of an unfamiliar voice that called out to me, but found nothing but darkness.

“Dad, it’s me,” the young man’s voice said.

Again, I frantically spun around only to hear the laughter of a young man.

“Jack? Where are you?” I called into the darkness.

“Over here,” he said chuckling like any young kid would who was teasing their old man. I followed the voice, turning slightly to my left. My heart lurched inside my chest as I came face to face with the young man I never got to know. He wore a Yankee cap, propped down low shadowing half of his face. I watched as he lifted his hands, turned the cap backward and displayed his face to me. Gone was the baby face of the boy I lost, the chubby cheeks now slender, his jaw more pronounced, his nose thinner and more prominent. He had his mama’s green eyes and from what I could see peeking out from the ends of his cap, he had my black hair, dark as night. His smile stopped my aching heart, revealing two perfect dimples. His lips quirked, much like mine seldom do as he stared at me.

“Is it really you?” I asked the teenager.

“It’s really me, Dad,” he confirmed. Then the smile fell from his face and he glanced down toward his feet as he whispered the words that broke the rest of my shattered heart.

“Miss you, Dad.”

I reached for him, desperate to hold him, to touch, to feel the child I loved in my arms.

But he faded before my very eyes.

“Jack,” I screamed into the darkness.

I jolted awake, sitting up, my eyes trying to focus in the dark searching for my son, only to realize I had been dreaming. I released a ragged breath, fighting back the emotions that tormented me, and ran my fingers through my hair.

What I wouldn’t give for just one more day.

I dropped my head back against my pillow, turning slightly and stared at Reina. She was sleeping on her belly, her face turned toward me. I flipped onto my side, moving her hair away from her face and watched as she slept.

So peaceful.

So beautiful.

Mine.

My fingertips traveled down the length of her over my leather vest she still wore. I was losing what was left of my mind. That was the only logical explanation for why I made her wear it, why I never wanted her to take the fucking thing off. My hands traveled down to her hip where fire tortured her skin. I recalled the apprehension in her eyes as I kissed her there, my fingers working the scars, trying to erase them from her memory.

They were horrific, tragic, but it was no lie when I said they were beautiful. How could something that told the story of how this woman became mine not be beautiful? I don’t know what it was about her, but there was no controlling the need burning deep inside. The need to be her man, the person she turns to, the one she chooses for herself.

I have no business wanting those things from her. None at all. I’m going to lose her. I’m sure of it. Blackie is right—Reina is deep under my skin. I knew she’d wreck me, that she’d ruin me. A man like me can’t have sunshine—not when he’s destined to wander in the darkness until the devil calls him home. But there was no turning back now.

I leaned over her and pressed my lips to the top of her head.

“You…” I whispered into her hair, leaving the rest of the sentence where it belonged. In my head. In my heart.

I pulled the covers over her body and quietly climbed out of bed, bending down to pick up my clothes. I peeked through the slotted blinds and was greeted by the dawn of a new day.

The day that tortured my soul, year after year.

Fifteen years ago my life changed on this day.

Fifteen years ago my heart became complete.

And for the last thirteen years, this day, is the day I dread.

I moved away from the window and walked into the bathroom to wash up. I emerged from the bathroom, changing my t-shirt and sat on the chair in the corner of my room, pulling on my boots when I heard a light knock on the door. I lifted my eyes to the door, then back to Reina. I stood, walked over to the bed and bent down for a kiss, careful not to wake her. My gaze lingered on her as something unfamiliar erupted inside my chest. I chalked it up to having her in my bed, wearing my cut, a mix of the two screwing with my emotions. I liked what I saw. I liked having her in my bed, pretending I was hers.

I was a twisted son of a bitch.

I walked around the bed to my nightstand and opened the drawer, lifted my gun and stared at it like it was a foreign object. I made sure it was loaded before tucking it into the back of my jeans. I moved to close the drawer and my eyes zeroed in on the orange prescription bottle.