Favorite Places (A TroubleMaker Novel, #2) (7 page)

“Wow. What a
beautiful view,” she said, setting the bowl on the quaint bistro set as she
gazed out at the city from the balcony.

“Yeah, beautiful.”
His deep voice roused her.

Jessina turned
and realized he was looking at her, not the scenery.

“Sit. Eat.” He gestured
to the chair.

Following his
command, she sat down, and reached for a piece of melon. Her hand froze over
the bowl when he took a step toward her.

Entering her
three-foot radius, his hand slowed its forward motion. “It’s okay,” he said,
low and tender, his hand back in motion. “I just want to check out the bump on
your head.” Soft and gentle, his palm cradled the side of her head as his thumb
slowly caressed her temple. “It’s gone down a lot.”

“It has?” Her body
tensed as her hand hovered over the bowl.

“Yes.” His thumb slid
down her cheek, then back up. “Does it still hurt?”

“No, and the constant headache is gone,” she said, hand still
suspended over the bowl, going numb.

“Relax, Jess, I’m not
going to hurt you.” The husky command was delivered with a hint of exasperation
but her body refused to obey. She remained stiff and tense.

“Why do you do
that?” He dropped his hand and took a step back, taking his warm touch away. He
sat down in the chair and put a piece of fruit in his mouth.

In one full
sweep, all her senses came back, and she was glad to finally have her hand moving
to its destination—food. “Do what?” she asked before shoving a piece of melon
in her mouth.

“You get all panicky
whenever anyone gets too close to you.”

She shrugged. “I
don’t like people getting in my comfort zone.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,”
she lied and popped a strawberry in her mouth.

“Yes you do.” Spying
on her beneath hooded blue eyes, the sunlight danced in the beautiful hues of
his irises.

For all his
sparkly sunshine eyes and overconfident grins, he was right. She did know why.
But no one other than Aunt Lulu knew her secret. Why she shied away from
traditional family hugs. A small part of her wanted to give Chase the answer he
was looking for. “You really want to know?

“I asked, didn’t
I?” He slumped back into the chair, crossed his arms over his hunky chest, making
himself comfortable.

“Fine. I’ll tell
you,” she hastily decided, and before she could change her mind, she blurted
out the truth. “When I was thirteen years old, I came home from school to find
my mother standing in the garage. She wasn’t moving, speaking, or even
blinking. I was used to her odd behaviors. But anyway,” she shrugged. “When I
got within reach of her that day in the garage, she pulled me to her. She wrapped
her arms so tight around me that I could hardly breathe. She held me like that for
three straight hours. She refused to let me go, and the whole time I stood
there, my father was lying on the ground.” She paused for a breath, to gather
her strength. “While I was at school, my mother had found my dad there. He’d had
a heart attack, and when she realized he was dead, she went into shock. Thankfully,
Mr. Hopkins, our next-door neighbor, decided to take his dog for a walk. He saw
my mother and I and…well, he called 911. They had to sedate my mother just to
get her off me. And that’s why I have issues with people getting too close, getting
in my personal space. I worry that once they get in, I won’t be able to get
them the hell out.”

Chase’s
weathered heart had been broken quite a few times in his life, particularly when
his mother left him and when Dylan had died. Not to mention a few other times…
And it happened all over again. He envisioned a young Jess standing in a quiet
garage, her father’s stiff, lifeless body in her sights as her mother’s arms
squeezed the mourning right out of her, making her father’s death an even more
horrifying and traumatic experience than it was already destined to be. He
wanted to get out of the chair and pull her into his arms, to hold her. The
irony of it was a malevolence all of its own. How do you comfort someone who
endured something like that?

 
“I’m
sorry you lost your father at such a young age,” he said, but it wasn’t enough.
His chest tightened, and his hands clenched. On that dreadful day in that quiet
garage, Jess’s mother had stolen something from her, and it undoubtedly changed
the woman Jess was meant to be. There had to be something really wrong with her
mother. And that only proved what he’d felt all along—
women can be selfish,
evil beings.
But the woman sitting across from him, the little girl hurt by
her own self-absorbed mother, it was difficult to lump her in with the
cold-hearted females he’s encountered
.
Could she be different? Maybe he shouldn’t
be so quick to compare her to other women. The thought frightened him a little.
He always used the women who’d hurt him in his life as an excuse to distant
himself from others.

“Thanks,” she
offhandedly said, rousing him from the uncomfortable thoughts. “It happened
over twelve years ago. My mom’s got issues. I’ve accepted it, and I’m so over
it. I just told you so you won’t think I’m a total freak.” Her gaze drifted to
his clenched fists on the table. “Now, what does this Arthur Caplin have that
you want so badly,” she asked, changing the subject as though she sensed his
anger. She looked back up at him, waiting for an answer.

“He’s the best
horse-trainer in the world,” he said.

Her eyebrows
rose. “And you’re going into the horse business? You don’t look like a jockey
to me.”

“No,” he
chuckled. “I’m not, but it’s something my brother Dylan got into about a year
ago.”

“If he started
it, why not let him schmooze this Mr. Caplin?” The gold in her eyes flickered
with the tease.

Chase stared,
absorbing her beauty, those twinkling eyes and that freckled nose. He wanted to
kiss her pretty pink mouth so hard until it turned from pink to red. “Can’t,”
he responded, quickly realizing that it was the first time his heart hadn’t
hurt so much when he’d said Dylan’s name.

She stared back
at him. “Why not?”

He appreciated
her candor. She had, after all, told him the truth about her mother, and out of
respect, he followed suit. “He died in an accident shortly after he started the
deal.”

“Oh.” The glitter
in her amber eyes dulled a little. “I see.” She didn’t become overly sentimental
or wishy-washy with condolences. And Chase respected her even more for it. “I’ll
tell you what,” she stood up and grabbed the bowl of half-eaten fruit. “Seeing
as though you fixed us breakfast, I’ll clean up.”

“No.” He placed
his hand over hers, acknowledging that the subject change wasn’t necessary,
even though he appreciated the distraction from thinking about Dylan’s death. “Sit
back down and eat a bagel. You need something solid in your belly.”

She pulled her
hand away. “I’m not that hungry.”

“I don’t care.”
He leaned forward, pinning her with his best intimidation until she started to
lower back into the chair. He picked up the newspaper and shook it out in front
of him, smiling behind it when he heard the cream cheese lid pop open.
Good girl.

His suggestive blue
eyes, overconfident gestures, and unstoppable, rock-hard body were all
authentic. In those few minutes out on the patio, the multimillionaire had become
very real. Although he appeared untouchable, Chase Lennox had experienced pain
and loss just like Jessina had. His humanization frightened her and made what
she felt for him tangible.

He’d mentioned
he hadn’t had a woman in his apartment in nearly a year. If true, it meant he’d
stopped the one-night stands right around the time his brother had passed away.
Had she misjudged the guy? She’d taken him for the philanderer that the
Internet photos made him out to be. Maybe she should have looked at the dates
those photos were taken. Maybe she should have taken a closer look at the man she
was accidentally married to.
Apparently, there was more going on with
Mr. Lennox, the multimillionaire, than Google had informed.

With the bowl in
one hand and the glass flutes in the other, Jessina stepped onto the tile floor
in the kitchen. The way-too-long pants got caught under her feet. She fell, and
the two glasses flew out of her hand. The bowl hit the underneath of the
counter and as she fell to the floor the sound of glass shattered to her ears.
Before she could respond, she heard Chase’s authoritative but concerned voice.

“Don’t move!”

She looked up
and saw him approaching in quick, long strides.

He crouched down
beside her. “Shit, Jess! There’s glass all around you. Are you okay?”

She nodded, and
he scooped her up into his arms. He carried her into the bedroom and gently
laid her on the bed. Her pants were down around her thighs. Luckily, Chase’s
flannel shirt was big enough to conceal her.

“You’re not hurt,
are you?” His eyes swiftly scanned her body, as if checking for himself.

“No.”

His warm firm hand
skimmed past her thigh. He’d pushed back her pants to inspect her. The flesh on
flesh, his hands on her naked hip, made Jessina draw in a sharp, deep breath,
and the sound broke into the room.

His eyes shot up
to her. Concern furrowed his brows. “Does it hurt here?” he asked, squeezing her
hip.

She winced from
the tightness it caused in her belly. She bit her bottom lip and shook her
head.

“No?” he
scrutinized. “Are you sure you didn’t get cut by any of that glass?” In a determined,
swift movement, he yanked her pants completely off so he could examine her from
the ankles up, touching her here and there. He was touching her everywhere. And
when he hit her inner thigh, the quick, punctured gasp must have given her
away. Chase’s hand stilled, and he gazed at it for a long moment before his
dark lashes lifted before blue, smoldering eyes landed upon her, astute and
deliberate. “Here, Jess.” His fingers indented her skin mere inches from the
aching dampness nestled between her thighs. “Does it hurt here?”

His voice
lowered, and his demeanor went from concerning to seductive. His hand opened,
and the tips of his fingers left her thigh. It slipped beneath the flannel, the
material that was protecting the hottest part of her body. She wanted to think she
had another barrier, but she’d discarded her panties after the bath. She was bare
and thoroughly soaked.

Her eyes
fluttered, but Chase refused to let her go. He held her in his sights as his
hand slithered further under the shirt. Her heart slammed into her chest. Her
core throbbed and ached for him to carry on. She sucked in a huge gulp of air
when his knuckles brushed lightly over her exposed pussy.

“You hurt right
here…” He rubbed his knuckles more roughly against her. “Don’t you, sweetheart?”

She wanted to
reach out and grab him, to pull him closer. Instead, she placed her hands on
her head. “Damn it,” she hissed in an erratic breath, unable to admit the truth.

“Do you want me
to make this feel better?” His finger found and glided over her clit. And her
entire body quivered with excitement from the touch.

“Oh hell!” She
cursed once more, knowing damn well that she should have taken care of her
sexual needs weeks ago.

“Is that a yes?”

Oh God, was it?
His finger continued to feather gently over her pussy.
Shit, he’s so good at
that
, she pressed closer to his touch. “Yes,” she shamelessly expelled, somewhat
embarrassed by her wanton behavior, but far too gone to acknowledge it.

She grabbed his arm, the one maneuvering the magic between
her legs. He pulled back a bit, but she squeezed his arm to keep him there.

A low chuckle vibrated
from him. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to stop until I make it all better.”  His
skillful touch banished her shame as he stroked a little harder. “You’re so smooth…
so wet.” His gaze dropped down to her lips. “Come here.” Without hesitation,
she submitted, her head bent a little closer. “Yeah, that’s it. Now, kiss me,”
he rasped, tempting her with his half-open mouth.

She leaned
forward as he continued to caress her pussy in perfect rhythm. With his eyes fixed
on her mouth, and when her lips finally covered his, Chase speared a finger deep
inside. She cried into his mouth.

“Damn.” His
finger slipped out, then thrust back in. “Hell yeah, baby. You feel good.”

Another fraught
cry left her. It vibrated against his lips as she arched, trying to meet his
next strong thrust.

“Yes. There you
go. That’s it. That’s what you need.” He slowly pulled his finger out, gliding her
wetness over her clit. The action shot a wave of ecstasy through her. “You feel
better already, don’t you?”

Pressing his wet
finger against her clit, he started to draw tiny circles. His tongue plunged
into her mouth, while his finger delved back inside. She moaned, and, once more,
he stole the cries of pleasure from her.

His fingers
tangled into her hair. “You didn’t answer me? Do you need more?” With a tug of
her strands, he pulled her closer to him, until his mouth was just inches from
her neck. “Because I can think of a few other ways to soothe you.” Keeping his
eyes trained on her, he kissed her throat.