Whatever It Takes (11 page)

He chuckled and sank to his haunches, shaking his head as he stretched out on his belly on the floor. “Just once do you think it would kill you to laugh?”

Yeah, it just might. Her anger was her defense against him. Now that she’d let her guard down, everything had come flooding in. Things like a desire so keen she ached. Him half naked in front of her filled her mind with flashes of memories. Of unbuttoning his shirt and pushing the fabric off his shoulders, then moving to his pants. Pressing herself against his naked body and claiming his mouth. Even the simple things caught her. Like lying in his arms after making love until they were both breathless and exhausted.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t find your taunting amusing.” Okay, so that was a flat-out lie. She found humor attractive in a man, and Jackson had it in spades. Only he could bring out the playfulness in her. He got her to go out with him a second time because he’d made her laugh. His comments were so outrageously sexual, so outright flirty, she hadn’t been able to help herself.

Sucking in a deep breath to prepare herself for the contact, she straddled his body and sank onto his backside. The firm, round muscle beneath her drew up a torturous image of her fingers curling into that exact part of him in the middle of an orgasm. . . .

A hot flush traveled up her neck and onto her cheeks, the warm fire in her belly becoming a full-on, bone-melting blaze. Oh, this would never work.

“I’m not taunting you. I’m flirting with you.” He lifted up enough to shoot a frown over his shoulder. “Once upon a time you loved it. You
used
to respond to it.”

Tension rose in the air between them, thick and heavy. She couldn’t deny the truth of his words. He used to make her blush and giggle like a schoolgirl.

“I loved a lot of things about you.” Like how safe she used to feel lying in his arms. She let out a long sigh. “Can we get this over with?”

In the span of a breath, his playful smile melted from his face.

“Forget it.” He shook his head and pushed up off the floor, sending her toppling onto her rear end beside him. “I hoped this would ease the tension between us. You always relaxed when we touched. But forget it. This is not what I had in mind. If you don’t want to be here, then I won’t force you.”

He rose to his feet, towering above her, and turned in search of his shirt. She could only sit and blink as the truth rose over her. She had all of about two seconds before the moment flitted from her grasp. A little voice in the back of her mind screamed at her to let him go and be grateful for the distance. Any intimacy between them would only end with her back where she’d already been, in love with a man who didn’t appear to love her.

“Jack, wait.”

God help her, she had an overwhelming desire to touch him again. One more time she wanted to feel the soft, silky warmth of his skin beneath her palms. Besides, he’d fulfilled his end of the bargain, had allowed himself to take a beating tonight. Sparring could be hard on the body, but he’d taken it in stride, had even seemed to enjoy himself. The women had loved working with him. He’d had the whole group laughing for the entire hour, but more than a few of them had come away from the experience with pride, the knowledge that they weren’t so helpless anymore. She owed him for that.

She also couldn’t ignore the hurt and disappointment written in the lines of his face. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she’d hurt him, too, in the divorce. What harm could a back rub possibly do?

He shook his shirt out, turning a scowl on her. “I do
not
make a woman do anything she doesn’t want to.”

“A promise is a promise.” Her heart hammered in her ears, and her hands shook, but she patted the carpet beside her. “Those women really enjoyed you tonight. I owe it to you. Lay down. One little knot adds up and throws your whole system off. You’ll be all kinky tomorrow if we don’t work this out now.”

She caught the words too late to stop them from leaving her mouth. Great. Now she’d done it. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, praying he’d leave the comment alone.

Unfortunately, he didn’t miss a beat. Quiet laughter rumbled out of him. “I might actually like kinky.”

This time his teasing went too far, niggling at the self-doubt, at the broken part of her heart.

Becca opened her eyes and furrowed her brow, though whether she was irritated at his teasing or at herself for responding, she couldn’t be sure. “You know, your constant teasing isn’t cute anymore. It’s childish and condescending.”

She expected another sassy comeback. Instead, he stood silent, studying her. For a moment she wondered if he’d shut her out again, but his chest rose as he drew a breath.

“Do you recall the other morning when I told you I missed the sound of your laughter?” He paused, his voice low and vibrating with regret.

The quiet honesty in his voice, something he never would have allowed her to hear a year ago, stunned her. “Yes.”

“Once upon a time, you used to smile at me. You used to laugh at the bawdy jokes I tossed at you. Lord, I used to love watching you blush. By God, you’re beautiful when your cheeks light up. Your laugh could make my whole world right again. On a lousy day, your laughter illuminated my world.” He gave a slow shake of his head, but his gaze never left hers. “Now I’m lucky if I can get you to smile at me, and I’m entirely too aware of how badly I screwed this up. I can’t take back the things I did, sweetheart. I can’t change the past, no matter how much I wish I could. But I still miss the sound of your laughter. I miss your smile the most.”

For a moment, she couldn’t speak. The emotion in his voice went straight to her heart and lodged there. Tears prickled behind her eyelids.

Jackson simply stood, shirt in one hand, arms hanging at his sides, waiting. He looked . . . vulnerable, and damned if she could leave him out there all by himself. If only because he was being open with her, and because when she needed him, he’d been there.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and offered him a smile, pointing at the floor. “Lie down.”

One blond brow arched. “You sure?”

“I’m positive. Now, lie down. I know you, Jack. One muscle out of whack and your whole back knots up. Let me help.”

He studied her a moment, then set his shirt on the sofa and stretched out on the floor again. “I really was only teasin’. I hoped if you laughed, you might relax. Maybe we could ease the tension between us.”

She straddled his body again, sinking onto his backside. She didn’t think she
could
relax. “I appreciate the sentiment. I’ll try to remember next time.”

She eyed his back, the smooth expanse of warm, tanned skin waiting for her touch, calling to her, begging her to caress it. Stealing herself for the contact, she took a deep breath, laid her trembling palms against the small of his back, and slid them upward along his spine. She continued up and began to knead his shoulders. He really was tense.

She bit her lip. His skin was far better than she remembered, too. Smooth and so warm she yearned to wrap herself in it, the way she used to.

Jackson let out a low groan. “Lord, you always did have magic fingers.”

Silence stretched out between them as she continued to knead and ply his stiff muscles. As the minutes passed, tension mounted in the air like a tangible object, so different than it had been earlier. Ten minutes ago, the tension was of the ugly variety, an air of hurt and rejection. Now it was intimate, brought on by the simplicity of the physical contact. All too well she remembered the last time she’d laid her hands on his bare skin like this. They made love, in fact. In a position very similar to this one.

To make matters worse, the image flooded her mind, vivid and corporeal. His body linked with hers, moving in unison, stroking against each other, mouths tasting, hands clinging, bodies stuck together with the perspiration they’d worked up in each other. Every stroke of her hands over his body drew her further into the memory, further into the want and need building inside her since their dance in the kitchen a week ago.

Jackson didn’t relax beneath her. Rather, his body tensed, his muscles tightening beneath her palms.

“I think I’m fine now.” His voice was low and rough, and before she could ask what he meant, he rose to his feet, once again toppling Becca onto her rear end. His body stiff, he made his way out of the living room in long, determined strides, so quick she half expected to see the hounds of hell nipping at his heels. “Feels better. Much obliged, darlin’.”

At the doorway, he lifted a hand in farewell but didn’t stop or even bother to look back. A breath later, he disappeared around the corner, his steady footsteps fading down the hallway, leaving her to stare, stunned, after him. The back door opened and clicked closed a few moments later, and a knot rose in her throat.

Despite knowing she ought to leave this well enough alone, she followed after him. She knew that tone, knew it well. It meant he was shutting her out, and she needed to know why. She might not be able to do anything about it once he told her, didn’t even know if she wanted to, but the pain inside of her demanded an answer. She’d watched him shut her out one too many times.

She opened the back door and moved out onto the deck. Jackson leaned on the railing, peering out over the backyard, similar to his stance a few nights earlier. The rain that day had cleared, and the night was beautiful but cold. The full moon lit up the sky, and the clouds had parted, revealing thousands of stars, twinkling like diamonds against a black backdrop. Jackson seemed relaxed, as if he’d been there for a while, simply enjoying the unusual weather. As the door clicked shut behind her, he flinched, his back stiffening.

“If I were you, I’d go back inside.” He didn’t bother to turn around, and his tone brooked no objections.

A tone she knew well. He wanted his space. The sound irritated her and drew the pain deep inside to a fine, sharp point, slicing at her insides all over again. She fisted her hands at her sides and glared at his back. “I’m not a servant you can order around. You told me a few days ago that if you screwed up, I was to tell you. That you were trying, but I had to be patient. Well, you’re doing it. You’re shutting me out. Don’t I at least deserve to know why?”

His head turned, his expression frustratingly blank as his gaze moved over her, before he turned back to the yard. “Mmm. I did. Forgive my gruffness, but I’m currently not fit for company.”

This time, his tone proved too much to bear. It reminded her of the reason she’d left him. Standing there, staring at his back, she felt like that ghost again, invisible to him. The hurt rose in her chest, bringing the anger with it. She’d grown tired of this damn stony wall a long time ago. She could stand anything but that. “Dammit, Jack. Stop shutting me out. That’s what hurts. You never let me in, and it kills me.”

His head snapped in her direction and his eyes narrowed in warning. His chest rose and fell at an increasingly rapid pace, his hands tightening on the railing. “Becca, right now is not the time. I’m trying desperately to control myself, and if you push, I will snap.”

“What are you afraid of, Jack?” She stiffened her spine and stood straighter. “That you might actually feel something?”

As quickly as he’d shut her out, he pivoted and stalked across the deck toward her. She took a step back, but in a few long strides, he reached her, seized her waist, and dragged her against him. As her body hit his, a gasp escaped, but she could only stare at him, stunned. A war raged in the depths of his eyes. More emotion than she remembered seeing there in a long time. Desire, anger, pain, frustration, all fighting for supremacy.

She braced her hands on his chest, to push him away, but his head dipped down, his lips brushing over hers, the barest of kisses.

“Or else I may do something I’m pretty sure you’ll hate me for in the mornin’.” The low huskiness of his voice washed over her like a heated caress, sending shivers down her spine, and obliterating whatever defenses she’d managed to build against him. “The feel of your hands on me about drove me mad. Do you have any idea how aroused I am right now? I’m two seconds from picking you up and carrying you upstairs.”

Desire slid through her belly, hot and luscious, and her body melted into the solid press of his. His hot, moist breath teased her lips, his skin deliciously warm beneath her fingers. Her hands yearned to slide up his chest and into the silky hair at the back of his head. She trembled from the self-control required not to lift onto her toes and capture his mouth.

Lips she ached with every fiber of her being to taste again, because she remembered the heady power of his kisses. Her entire body yearned for him and him alone. She hadn’t had many lovers before she met him. Hell, she could count them all with two fingers. Neither compared to him.

“You wouldn’t dare.” The words had been a vain attempt to insert some sanity, but had come out on a breathy whisper instead. All because his lips hovered over hers. Her tongue ran along her lower lip as her gaze focused on his mouth. He was so achingly close, and she yearned with every cell in her body to remember the fierceness of his kiss, to know it again.

“I would, and with the mood I’m in, I’m not above playing dirty.” The determined catch in his voice made her breath hitch.

Jackson was used to getting what he wanted. He could be damned determined when he wanted to be. Now he leaned his head beside her ear, as if to torment her further. Or perhaps to prove his point—that he had her right where he wanted her. That he was in control. He was potent in seduction mode, and she had no resistance against him. Never had.

His breath blew warm against her skin, his voice husky with need as he murmured against the sensitive lobe of her ear. “I happen to know certain spots on your neck that are sure to make you forget you’re angry with me.”

A shudder rocketed through her, a soft exhalation escaping her. He knew certain spots on her neck that could make her melt to his whim, too. She swallowed past a desert-dry throat, but couldn’t summon the will to push him away.

“Like this one.” As if to prove his point, he nipped the curve of her shoulder with his teeth.