Explosive (The Black Opals) (14 page)

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Authors: Tori St. Claire

BOOK: Explosive (The Black Opals)
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S e v e n t e e n

 

 

 

A
lyssa slid her arms around Jayce’s waist. She grounded herself in the sound of his steady heartbeat beneath her ear. He was here, warm, and oh so familiar. So many times had he held her just like this, soothing her tears when their circumstances and the need to hide their relationship pushed her to the point of breaking. She’d hated the fact they had to sneak around, hated her family for forcing them into secrecy. But Jayce had always been strong, there to reassure her that when she turned eighteen everything would be okay.

She tightened her hold on him, closing her eyes to another fresh rush of tears.
Tell him. Explain why a stupid photograph had upended her completely. She didn’t know how. But oh, how she wanted to turn to him.

“McTavish said Parker threatened you,” Jayce murmured quietly.

Alyssa nodded. With a sniffle, she eased out of the safe haven of his embrace and wiped her slowing tears away. “It was veiled. I can’t prove anything.” She couldn’t prove a damned thing, if it came down to the wire. There was nothing she
could
do.

The sickening sense of helplessness crept around her again.
This was all beyond her control, every bit of it. She stood, rubbed at her arms to ward off a chill.

“Can’t prove anything?” A touch of exasperation filtered into Jayce’s low voice.
“Alyssa, you were threatened. The proof of it is in your office.”

The proof had been on her person too, but her parents hadn’t believed her.
If blood couldn’t prompt people into action, why would anyone act on something so insubstantial?

She looked to Jayce, wanting nothing more than to turn to him.
Wanting to confess, to spill everything. But she’d made the choices, deliberately accepted work from a man with an unscrupulous past. The shame of confessing choked her. She couldn’t confront the blame Jayce would rightly assign on her.

She shook her head.
“I can’t talk about this right now.”

“Alyssa.”
Frustration hardened his warm voice. “It’s me, for God’s sake. Talk to me.
What
is going on?”

“It’s nothing.”
With more courage than she really felt, she gave him a half smile. “Really, it’s nothing. Everything will settle.” Before he could hound her with more questions, she escaped the claustrophobic confines of her room and headed down the stairs to the safety of Brice’s presence. He knew when not to push.

Jayce’s boots followed heavily behind her.
“Alyssa, damn it.”

“Really, Jayce.”
She quickened her step. “Let it be. There’s nothing you can do, anyway. I appreciate your concern.”

“My
concern?

From the corner of her eye, she caught the flash of his hand as he reached for her arm.
She jerked her elbow away and ducked into the kitchen, not really caring where she went so long as she kept moving. Away from him. Away from the terrifying effect he had over her self-control.

“What do you mean it’s none of my
concern?
Do you think I don’t give a damn what happens to you?” Jayce demanded on heels.

To her immense gratitude, Alyssa found Brice hovering over the toaster.
She shot him a glance, begging him to intercede. He looked between them both, feigned helplessness with a slight shrug, and plucked his bagel from the toaster oven.

“Alyssa!” Jayce came to a halt at the end of the bar.
He braced his hands on it, anger hardening his glare. He opened his mouth, but as Brice opened the refrigerator, Jayce snapped his mouth shut once again.

Relief swamped Alyssa.
Thank God. He wouldn’t pursue an argument in front of Brice. He preferred privacy when it came to their disagreements. She braved his glinting dark eyes. Taking care to keep her voice calm, she reiterated her stance. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

His jaw flexed.
The fingers on one hand curled over the smooth counter and into a tight fist. With slow, deliberate movements, he turned and took two steps toward the door.

Alyssa let out the breath she’d been holding.
Her gaze slid sideways to where Brice stood at the counter, slathering butter on his bagel. Only he wasn’t looking at the bagel, but instead, frowning at her. Disapproval turned down the corners of his mouth. She looked away, unwilling to let his judgment bend her in a direction she couldn’t take. It was better this way. Jayce might be angry, but she couldn’t explain. Not without going back in time to the root of why one ridiculously faked picture reduced her to a panicked mess.

* * *

Jayce reached the hall, and his control snapped. Alyssa knew a hell of a lot more than what little she’d said, and he was goddamned tired of her avoiding conversation. He spun on his heel. If she wanted to run, then by God, he had no problem taking the argument to her. It was long past time.

He stormed back into the kitchen and slapped a hand against the doorframe.
“Damn it, Alyssa! Ten
fucking
years! You act like I’m some total stranger. Like I have no right to ask questions or be concerned. Why the hell won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you tell me—” He stopped before the question could slip free. McTavish hadn’t known about their baby. Jayce refused to bring that secret up in front of him. Only Jordan had shared Jayce’s joy.

To his complete surprise, Alyssa spun around, her own eyes lighting with anger.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You can’t leave the past alone, can you?”

Leave it alone?
Had she lost her fucking mind? She knew how excited he’d been, what he’d given up for them. The idea that she could just forget everything, that she’d walked away without a backward glance, grabbed his stomach in an iron fist. He grimaced. “No, I guess I can’t. You were
mine
, Alyssa. Now you’re fucking living with
him.
” He stabbed a thumb in McTavish’s direction.

Brice took a step toward the doorway Jayce occupied.
“I think, I’m just going to—”

“Stay,” Alyssa instructed quietly.
“I don’t want you to go.”

That quiet utterance tore Jayce up inside.
She couldn’t have drawn a more clear line on where she stood and who she stood with. Not him. McTavish. He’d fucking fall at her feet and beg for answers, but she didn’t give a damn. He was just a temporary toy.

Alyssa motioned between him and Brice.
The light in her eyes took on a pleading quality that dealt more damage to him than the realization she’d moved beyond what they’d once shared.

“Can’t you accept this is what I want right now, Jayce?” The anger had left her voice, replaced by a touch of hurt.
“Nothing deep. I just want to enjoy each other.” She stepped into his space, drew a gentle hand down his chest. Fire followed in the wake of her fingertips.

“I want to enjoy you.
And I don’t want to go backward in time.”

“Enjoy me?” he croaked out hoarsely.
Every instinct he possessed screamed he should push her away and leave. There was no present without the past. Couldn’t she see that the past was what bound them together? That the passion they shared had never been strictly physical?

Alyssa lifted to her toes and brushed soft lips against his.
“Just this. Right here and now. That’s all I want.”

In that instant, sense fled.
There was no trying to argue with himself, or with her, about right, or wrong, or what they were, or what they had been. All that mattered was stopping the pain of feeling like he was being torn in two. And with that ache came the fierce, maddening desire to make her need him as much as he needed her. He slid a hand into her hair and gathered it roughly in his fingers. He dragged her mouth to his, aware his kiss was hard and rough. When he finished with her, she’d never doubt he’d touched her. Never again be able to turn away unaffected.

He backed her against the countertop, swallowed down the surprised squeak that bubbled in her throat when she came to a hard stop.
Soft curves aligned with his body, pushing him deeper into torment. He slipped a hand between their bodies and cupped her breast. As he gave it a firm squeeze, he broke the kiss. “I’ll give you what you want, Alyssa, but don’t you dare hate me after. I can do cold and meaningless better than you can possibly imagine.”

And he had, countless times over the years.
Women passed through his bed, not one of them staying more than a night or two. Not a one of them had come close to touching his heart because it was too goddamn full of Alyssa. Sure, there had always been the excuse that he was on mission, that he couldn’t risk getting tangled up because of his job, but when the lights were on and the passion died, it all came down to brutal truth he couldn’t force her out of his system.

Now, she wanted the same meaningless desire.
He’d give it to her. He’d hate himself for being unable to say no, for being so weak when it came to her, but he’d never make the mistake of
feeling
when it came to her again.

McTavish moved in his peripheral vision, heading once again for the doorway.
Jayce held Alyssa’s gaze. “Don’t go, McTavish. You heard her. She wants you to stay.” Before Alyssa could observe the way it killed him to invite McTavish, he thrust her shirt up and closed his mouth around the pert nipple straining against the lace of her bra.

The way Alyssa arched against him and keened against the firm pull of his mouth sent lust racing through his system.
His hips ground into hers, his cock instantaneously hard and aching. He blocked the blistering sensation, pushed it to the dark recesses of his mind where it couldn’t transform into anything close to emotion. Dropping one hand beneath her ass, he lifted her off the ground until she wrapped her legs around him and their close proximity forced him to release her breast.

McTavish’s hands brushed Jayce’s as he reached for the hem of her shirt.
Jayce jerked his aside, settled on cupping his fingers around the swell of her buttocks and kneading the tight muscles there. As Alyssa scattered kisses down the length of Jayce’s throat, McTavish eased her shirt over her head.

Jayce braved looking at her face.
Arousal softened her features, but she kept her eyes closed, blocking him from any true hint as to what she might be feeling. Just as well. He didn’t really want to know anyway. He’d seen enough this morning. He did, however, catch the hint of discomfort that touched McTavish’s brow before he lowered his mouth to the nape of Alyssa’s neck.

Fuck it.
McTavish had her; he could deal with what his precious princess wanted. Jayce didn’t like it anymore than his former best friend did, but at least they were on equal playing fields this way.

“Lean back,” he instructed hoarsely.

McTavish guided her as she followed Jayce’s command, his arms supporting her until she rested her head on his shoulder. Her short breaths heaved her bound breasts, and Jayce flattened his palm against her abdomen. Around his waist, her thighs gripped hard.

Slowly, he inched his hand up the centerline of her body, fascinated by soft valleys and the tight rise of muscles she obviously spent time maintaining.
She tipped her hips forward, stroking herself against his confined erection, and her lips parted with a soft gasp.

God, she was beautiful.
Like a fucking angel.

Jayce released the clasp of her bra, doing his best to ignore the way McTavish teased her into an awkward, upside down kiss.
He focused instead on her breasts, on the dusky buds that called to his mouth. Drawing one between his teeth, he closed his eyes and fitted his hands at her hips. Satisfaction blistered across his skin as Alyssa slipped her fingers into his hair.

Yeah, she liked that.
She always had been super sensitive to her nipples. He tweaked one with his teeth, then swirled his tongue around the hard bud. Alyssa let out a soft moan. His cock pulsed in answer. He craved the feel of her soft wet flesh gloving his cock, craved it so bad he could taste it. And yet, he knew she wouldn’t give that part of her to him. Like she had done last night, she’d turn to McTavish, allowing him to possess the most intimate part of her.

He reminded himself she didn’t want intimacy, and he didn’t require it.
Instead, he glided his hands up Alyssa’s back, forcing himself to ease, not shove, McTavish’s aside, and gathered her into his embrace. Not particularly caring whether McTavish followed, yet knowing he did, Jayce carried Alyssa into the living room and laid her on the couch. There would be nothing tender about this, no room for sentiment. She’d pushed every button he possessed, and he intended to take her relentlessly.

Jayce made quick work of his clothes.
McTavish took his time, leaving Jayce the incredible treasure of peeling Alyssa out of her jeans. He knelt at the edge of the couch, eased the button free at her waist, and pressed his lips to the indentation of her hip. Goosebumps broke over her flesh.

Reaching around her, he eased the denim over the flare of her hips, dragging kisses across every inch of her skin that he exposed.
He took his time, drawing out the anticipation. Satisfaction thrummed through him as her teeth pricked her lower lip, and she gently shifted against the leather cushions. When he had exposed her completely, he glanced up from her ankles and let his gaze roam over every delectable bit of her body. Her nipples were hard, her breasts tight. Her abdomen clenched against the build of arousal.

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