Break Away (The Baltimore Banners Book 5) (17 page)

JP paused on the sidewalk, his hand cupping Emily’s elbow through her dark coat. A few people stepped around them, tossing them impatient looks as they moved around them to reach the door. JP stepped to the side, pulling them out of the way.

"Are you sure you’re okay with this?"

She tilted her head to look up at him, the movement causing her hair to fall over her shoulder and spill down her back. The light above the doors colored the soft strands with a golden hue and cast her face with a soft glow. Right at that moment, he wanted to do nothing more than pull her into his arms and kiss her.

No. To take her home then pull her into his arms. But he couldn’t do that, not right now. Against his better judgment he had asked Emily out tonight, leaving it up to her to decide if she wanted to come. Much to his surprise, she said yes.

Although maybe ‘surprise’ was the wrong word. JP had a feeling he was more nervous than Emily and he wasn’t sure why.

"JP, I’m fine."

"Are you sure? I mean, there’s probably going to be talk about, you know…um, babies and—"

Emily placed her fingers across his mouth, silencing him. Then she smiled, a soft and sweet smile that heated him deep inside. "JP, it’s okay. Really."

Her eyes reflected the truth of her words, enough that the knot of apprehension in JP’s gut loosened, just a little. He grabbed her hand in his and dropped a kiss to her fingers then lowered their hands to his side. "About the guys. They, uh, they like to joke around and stuff. You shouldn’t listen to everything they say."

"You’re nervous!"

"What? No, of course not.
Ne soyez pas ridicule
."

Emily laughed again and squeezed his hand. "Yes, you are. But don’t worry, I am too. A little. This is kind of like meeting your family, isn’t it?"

Her words rang in his ears, clear and precise. And truer than she knew. JP hadn’t given it much thought, not in those exact terms, but Emily was right. His team was his family, in all the ways that counted. Introducing Emily to them was a big deal for him, a big step he hadn’t wanted to stop and think about. Part of him was secretly glad she understood that. The other part of him was anxious, apprehensive.

Because it
was
a big deal, one he was afraid to acknowledge.

Too late for that now.

JP pulled Emily close and dropped a quick kiss to her mouth, feeling the warmth of her lips against his, the press of her body as she leaned into him. Then he took her hand and led her inside.

The Maypole, as usual, was packed. It was still early enough for the after-work crowd, yet late enough for the dinner crowd. And more than a year later, the combination sports bar and restaurant was still successfully geared toward women—which made it a nice draw for men as well.

JP ignored the crowd and led Emily to the back, where several tables were pushed together. At least half a dozen of his teammates were already there, most with their wives or girlfriends. The conversation was loud, filled with laughter, but it trailed off as JP approached. He swallowed back the storm of nerves in his gut and tightened his hold around Emily’s hand, pulling her closer as all eyes focused on them.

"About time you showed up." Randy stood and pulled out a chair, motioning for Emily to have a seat. She looked over at JP, her expression questioning. At his nod, she shrugged out of her coat and took a seat.

JP moved behind her and dropped his hand on her shoulder, a show of reassurance, of possessiveness. His glance darted around at the curious faces watching him. "Everyone, this is Emily. Emily, this is everyone."

Conversation started up again, more controlled this time, the volume a little lower as introductions were made. JP kept a close eye on Emily but she seemed comfortable, at ease. He let out his breath and allowed himself to relax, just a little.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"What? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not."

"Yeah, okay. C’mon, you can help me carry more drinks over." JP followed Randy over to the bar, tossing an occasional glance over his shoulder. He stopped and groaned when Mat walked in and made his way over to the table, straight toward Emily.

JP turned to go back when Randy grabbed his arm. "Stop it. She’s fine. Mat isn’t going to say anything about, well, you know."

"That’s not what I’m worried about."

"Then what?"

JP leaned an elbow against the bar and looked around. So many women. No, none that he knew, not here, not tonight at least. But that didn’t mean that he’d never run into one, that he’d never cross paths—

"Then what, Larocque? What are you worried about?"

JP looked back at Randy, fixing his friend with a steady gaze. "Does Alyssa know about your past?"

"My past?" Randy arranged some bottles and glasses on two trays then faced JP. "You mean other women before her?"

"Yeah. That."

Randy tilted his head and scratched the back of his neck, a frown of discomfort contorting his face for several seconds. He reached for a beer and took a long swallow, then another. Randy placed the empty bottle against the bar with a loud thunk and a hollow laugh. "Yeah, okay. Is that what you’re worried about?"

"I don’t know. Maybe. I mean…fuck."

Randy shoved a beer into his hand then turned and looked back at the crowd at their table. "Alyssa’s not stupid. But she also doesn’t hold my past against me because she loves me. Faults and all. That’s why they call it love."

JP didn’t say anything, just sipped the beer and looked over at Emily. She was leaning across the table, listening to something Ian’s wife, Kayli, was saying. She tilted her head back and laughed, the musical sound drifting over to him and wrapping him in unaccustomed warmth.

JP rolled the bottle between his hands, the damp coolness spreading along his palms. He sighed then placed the bottle on the bar. "She moved out of her sister’s house. I think it was because of me."

"She tell you that?"

"Not exactly,
non
. But I know her sister doesn’t approve of me."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

"No."

"Then you need to." Randy paused, studying JP with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. "Is she the one?"

"The one?"

"Yeah. And don’t play stupid because you know exactly what I mean. Is she the one? Or are you with her now because you’re feeling guilty about your past and everything that happened?"

Guilty. Why did everything always seem to go back to that word? Did JP feel guilty? Of course he did. He wasn’t so callous, so unfeeling, that he was beyond feeling guilt. How could he not, when he thought about what Emily went through? Alone, because he hadn’t been there for her, hadn’t even tried to be there for her. When she had walked away that night, so long ago, he had convinced himself she didn’t need him, didn’t care. He should have gone after her. Should have put his own fear and pain behind him and chased after her, reassured her. Let her know he was there for her, that they'd get through it together.

But he hadn't done any of that, just convinced himself she didn't want him. It was easier for him to think that than do anything about it.

Easier for him to hide his own pain at the loss.

Did he still feel guilty? Yes, dammit, he did.

JP took a long swallow of beer then leaned against the bar, his eyes automatically seeking Emily. Her wide blue eyes, her soft smile, her gentle laugh. Looking at her, she seemed fragile, like she needed someone to take care of her. But she didn’t. She was stronger than that. Stronger than most other women he knew.

And with a bigger heart. Too big, too caring. Emily had a way of looking at people, letting them know that she was listening, that she cared.

Yes, he still felt guilty. But that wasn’t why he was with her, that wasn’t why he wanted her. JP rubbed his chest, pushing against the sudden ache forming just under his sternum, an ache that made each breath burn in his lungs.

"
Dieu m'aider
." He needed Emily. It was as simple and as terrifying as that.

Randy pushed against his shoulder and laughed, a not-quite-humorous sound that told JP his friend knew exactly what had just happened. "Talk to her, JP. And do yourself a favor. Don’t wait too long to tell her."

Randy grabbed one tray and walked back to the table, leaving JP standing there, unable to move. Tell her, Randy had said. But tell her what?

Tell her how he felt.

He couldn’t. Not here, not now. No, if he was going to bare his soul, he wanted it to be someplace special. He wanted the moment to be special. Romantic.

Fuck. What did he know about romance? Nothing. And he couldn’t tell her now, anyway. Not until things were settled between her and her sister. He didn’t want Emily to think he was trying to take advantage of the rift with her sister.

Not that that made any sense, not in a way he could explain. He just knew it was important to Emily. And to him. So yeah, he’d have to fix that. Somehow.

JP finished the beer and slammed the bottle down, wincing at the loud thunk the glass made against the polished wood. He’d figure things out later. Right now, he just wanted to spend the evening with Emily, to show her off.

He went back to the table, dragging an empty chair with him, then wedged himself between Emily and Mat. He gave Mat a dirty look then wrapped his arm around Emily’s shoulder, pulling her close.

"Having fun?"

She tilted her head back to look at him, laughter shining in her eyes. "Yes, actually, I am."

"Good." He pressed his mouth to hers for a quick kiss then settled himself more comfortably in the chair and propped his right ankle on his left knee. Conversation continued around them, with a few of his teammates shooting knowing looks his way. JP narrowed his eyes, silently daring them to say something. The look only caused a few of them to laugh, which made JP frown even more.

Time drifted around them, filled with laughter, food, and teasing conversation. Emily reached for another glass of wine, her smile bright, her face flushed. JP caught the glass before she could reach it and nudged it out of her way, then leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Are you sure you’re okay to drink that? You don’t usually drink quite so much. I don’t want to carry you home."

"Oh. You’re probably right." Emily offered him a smile then leaned in and kissed him. Not a quick, chaste kiss. No, this was a full, deep, coaxing kiss that sent his blood rushing south. It didn’t help that Emily ran her hand up his leg, her touch searing the skin beneath the denim of his jeans. Her hand drifted higher, the tips of her fingers dangerously close to his semi-hard cock. JP grabbed her hand and pulled it away, his stomach knotted with anticipation at the heated look in her eyes.

"Maybe you should carry me home anyway."

Her voice was a throaty whisper, her breath hot against his throat. Everything in JP tightened and all thought fled his mind. All thought except one: getting Emily home. Alone. Now.

JP yanked the wallet from his back pocket and tossed some bills on the table, then stood so fast he nearly toppled the chair. He pulled Emily to her feet, pressing a quick kiss against her mouth, then shot a vague look around the table.

"We need to get going. You guys have fun."

He ignored the knowing looks and laughter that followed them out the door, caring only about Emily. About the invitation in her soft eyes and the promise in her expression as she gazed up at him.

Hard flesh warmed under her touch, vibrant, alive. Responsive. Every touch, every kiss and nip of her teeth elicited a response from the man under her. A sharp intake of breath, a hoarse moan. Thrilling, exciting. Powerful.

Emily dragged the tips of her fingers along JP’s chest, her touch feather-light as she outlined the hard peaks of his flat nipples. His hands fisted at his sides but he didn’t move. Wouldn’t move, because she stopped each time he did.

She slid down his body, watching his skin pebble under her touch as her fingers skimmed the hard muscles of his defined abs. A soft line of hair trailed from his stomach and she traced it with the tip of her index finger. Down, lower, until she circled the broad base of his erection. JP groaned, his hips thrusting as she ran her fingers along his hard length, up to the bead of moisture gathering at the smooth tip. She bent her head, her tongue darting out, tasting.

His cock jumped at her touch and she smiled, looked up at him. JP’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back against the soft pillows, his jaw clenched as she teased him. She heard the hiss of his breathing, watched the rise and fall of his chest with each ragged breath.

Emily bent closer, teasing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs with her lips and tongue. The ends of her hair dragged over his flesh, teasing him, tempting him. He had told her once, long ago, how much he loved the feel of her hair against his skin. From the tension humming through him, that hadn’t changed.

Emily smiled again, reveling in each response, each groan, each ragged breath as she kissed her way down his body. Her nails skimmed his skin, hard then soft. Hard again. She shifted onto her knees and reversed direction, now kissing her way back up his other leg, her fingers kneading hard muscle and firm flesh.

Until she reached her target.

She leaned down and took him into her mouth, heard the swift intake of his breath as she sucked, licked. Back and forth, deeper, tasting. His body bucked against her, driving him deeper into her mouth.

"
Emilie
." Her name was a hoarse growl, nearly lost in the sounds of their breathing. Hands clasped around her head, twisted into her hair. Stopping her? Holding her in place?

She didn’t care, just kept sucking, her tongue swirling around the smooth tip, stroking, nipping. His hips thrust again, harder. Emily dug her hands into his thighs, feeling thick muscles clench under her touch as he tried to move.

Whispered French, too soft and fast for her to understand, wrapped around her. She was caught up in his frenzy, on the edge of losing control herself as she sucked, harder, deeper, wanting to feel him lose control. Needing him to lose control. To take him, to taste him.

His fingers tangled in her hair, tightening, as his body tensed. His hips thrust once, twice. A hoarse growl echoed around her as he lost himself, as he lost control. Yet she didn’t stop, couldn’t, not until his hands closed over her arms and he dragged her up his body.

His dark eyes met hers, something flashing in their depths before he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss that left her breathless. But she wasn’t the only one; she could feel the rise and fall of his own chest beneath her, hear the heavy pull of air as he tried to catch his own breath.

"
Ma chère
.
Mon Amour
. Christ." He traced her lower lip with the tip of one finger then smiled, a sweet soft smile unlike any she had ever seen from him before. "I think you are trying to kill me."

Emily gave him a soft smile in return then lowered her head to his chest, sighing as his arms closed around her. A few minutes went by before he shifted, rolling to his side so they were facing each other. He leaned down and grabbed the blankets, pulling them up so they were both covered. Then he propped his head in his hand and watched her. Just watched her, the expression in his dark eyes nearly unreadable.

Emily brushed the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ears. She tried to meet his gaze, tried to figure out what he was thinking. But his gaze was too intense, too piercing, and she looked away.

"What are you thinking,
mon coeur
?"

She ran a finger down his chest, the heat of his skin warming her, and shrugged. "I was just wondering…"

"Wondering what?"

Emily took a deep breath and glanced up at him, suddenly shy. But the wine from earlier fortified her, gave her courage to ask the question she would have never given voice to otherwise. "Do you think we’d still be together? If things had been…different…five years ago."

The silence that greeted the question was absolute, the air around them still, heavy. Emily bit down on her lower lip and wished she could take it back. Why had she asked such a stupid thing? Why had she put him on the spot like that? She blinked, ready to apologize, when she was suddenly rolled to her back, the heavy weight of JP’s body pinning her to the bed. His hands cupped her face, his thumb gently rubbing her lower lip as he stared at her. His eyes were dark, deep, intense.

"I never forgot you,
mon coeur
. Never." His mouth dropped to hers, the kiss warm, gentle. "I can’t answer the question because I don’t know. I only know what I hope. Here, in my heart."

He shifted, grabbed her hand and brought it to the center of his chest. His heart thudded beneath her palm, steady, hard. She looked up at him, met his gaze, felt her own heart beat in response. "I wonder if maybe things happened because we weren’t ready. No, because
I
wasn’t ready. My
Emilie
…I don’t know what would have happened five years ago. But I know what I want to happen now."

He kissed her again, deeper, more intense, possessing and claiming. He shifted against her, the tip of his erection probing, sliding, teasing. Emily moved her legs and tilted her hips, inviting him. But he didn’t move, held himself still over her, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that seared her.

That scared her.

"Jean-Pierre—"

"I love you,
Emilie
."

Before she could react, before she could respond, he plunged into her. Her head fell back as air rushed from her lungs, as her legs wrapped around his waist and held him to her.

His thrusts were strong, hard, fast. Over and over, dragging her to the edge before she could completely comprehend what was happening. She grabbed his shoulders, her nails biting into his flesh, looking for something to hold onto, looking for an anchor to steady her in the sudden onslaught.

Sensation washed over her, wave after wave, ripping her apart, pulling her under. She screamed his name, felt his arms tighten around her, holding her, keeping her safe.

Over and over, each wave stronger as he dove into her, faster, harder, deeper. Until they were no longer two people, but each an extension of the other. And still it didn’t stop, not until JP plunged into her one last time, her name ripped from his chest as his climax exploded deep inside her.

He collapsed on top of her, each harsh breath hot against the skin of her neck, her name a faint whisper in her ear. She turned her head, pressed her lips against his damp brow, closed her eyes.

"I love you, too, Jean-Pierre."