Fighting Fate: Book 2 of the Warrior Chronicles (22 page)

Taryn turned her face to the heavens, acknowledging a truth that scared her as much as it empowered her every step closer to Jesse:
Today, I don’t want to be alone.

...

Twenty-nine minutes…

Twenty-nine minutes since he left her alone.

Jesse ground his teeth together hard enough to acknowledge the shooting pain that moved from his jaw to his temple.
Twenty-nine minutes, thirty-two seconds.

Jesse looked up. Taryn was standing in the doorway draped from chin to toes in what appeared to be a robe designed to keep Eskimos warm, water dripping from hair that was haphazardly tossed away from her face. On top of that, she had on the kind of hideously campy satin slippers, he pictured Hugh Hefner sporting.

Jesse had never seen a more sensually appealing sight in his life.

He didn’t know how to describe the look of her face, scrubbed clean of make-up, and pink from too much rubbing. The words,
raw
and
shell-shocked
came to mind, but neither fully captured the need she was projecting. She was so damned strong, she’d done everything he asked of her with little question and a world of grace. He forgot just how much her world had turned upside down in the space of one revolution of the earth around the sun.

Turn in your man card, asshole.

If he opened his mouth he’d probably say something stupid and self-centered again. Jesse couldn’t help tripping over his tongue once his emotions got the better of him, and every damned time she turned those sea colored eyes on him he turned into a
feeling
bag of bones instead of a
thinking
bag of bones. In an attempt to use his head this time, Jesse said nothing and simply held his arms out to her, palms up, hoping she got the message that he was offering no threat, only solace. And sex. He wasn’t that brain dead.

She took a step forward into the room. It was enough. He rushed forward, stopping only long enough to scoop her up and carry her to their castle bed. She was solid and her ridiculous robe was slippery, but he managed not to drop her. Jesse was almost as grateful for that supreme act of athleticism as he was for the fact that she didn’t seem to notice the tension riding him. He lowered her down his body, barely able to feel her ample breasts through his clothing and her bubble-wrap robe. When her feet were firmly under her, Jesse untied her monstrosity of a robe. It fell open, but shielded everything he wanted to see, taste and feel so he slid it off her shoulders. Its weight quickly carried it to the floor, and with it went Jesse’s breath.

Jesse stepped back. Remembering every heartbeat of their first encounter, Jesse wanted nothing more than to take his time and see things done properly. That would be a hell of a lot easier if he didn’t want to jump her and see the thing done so badly. Instead, he disrobed meticulously, letting her see every inch of skin he revealed, each muscle he’d honed, not for vanity but for purpose.

She was obviously enjoying the result of his efforts. Whether she knew it or not, her breathing had grown shallow and her nipples hardened.

He folded his jeans, boxers, t-shirt, and socks, placing them on the window seat, taking time to calm his rapidly beating heart by reciting the Code of Bushido in his head. It helped, but not as much as it should have. It kept being interrupted with…
please don’t let me fuck this up.

When Jesse turned to face Taryn he was lost. Her expression had changed from merely appreciative to yearning, and the temptation of her lushly curved body was too much after the deprivation he’d inflicted upon himself earlier.

How did one satisfy a woman who wanted your body, your hand in friendship and your heart, for exactly four months? Make that three months and just over two weeks. Then one could go take a flying leap into the stratosphere of obscurity as Madam-chasing-history-for-cable galloped off into the sunset. Alone.

Jesse could choose to view their deal, their contract as she called it, that way again, thinking only of his ego and how to stroke it. Or he could chose let himself be deluded by her pretend world for a short but sweet time and be frequently stroked. His third path was one where he let hope and action guide him. He hoped she’d figure out how much he wanted her in his life, not only for Reed’s sake but for his own. At the same time, he’d do every sensual thing in his power to hold her in thrall, with his body, until she came around. He’d keep his zip-cuffs in reserve just in case he needed a little help.

Jesse approached her, taking a step closer without saying a word. She moved two steps closer to him. This no talking thing was beginning to pay off, at least it was until he couldn’t remember who moved and suddenly she was in his arms, skin against skin, taking in her breath and her soap and Taryn scent with every inhalation.

He didn’t know how they strayed so far from the bed, but the fact that she’d come to him made up for that small inconvenience. This time when he picked her up there was no slippery barrier, just damp heat. She wrapped her arms around him, pleasing him with her eagerness and her lack of irritation at his manual transportation. Taryn wasn’t particularly submissive so that surprised him. So did the stroke of her tongue on his neck followed by her not so gentle nip. Hearing her low groan deep in her throat was worth any small pain she wanted to inflict.

Jesse laid Taryn down on top of the gold and silver stitched comforter, tossing the throw pillows to the floor before laying down next to her. When she tried to roll on top of him he held her down whispering one word in her ear,
later.

Pinning her arms above her head he laid on top of her, letting her feel his heat and the throbbing beat of his heart in his cock where it settled between her legs. She raised a thigh, settling him deeper, closer to her damp gateway to nirvana, for her and him. Starting at her temple he kissed her temple, her cheek, down the side of her neck, learning how much she liked it when he ran his tongue behind her ear.

She tried to take over when he kissed her mouth so he bit her lower lip and started down her body. She wasn’t going to make him lose control until he was ready. Then he’d let her go crazy, however she wished. She could use him and he’d revel in it. She tried to release her arms and as much as he wanted to feel them around him he couldn’t let her yet. He flipped her over instead.

Holding her wrists in one hand he moved her hair aside with the other. He kissed her nape, the line of her shoulders, down her backbone to the curve of her breast, then over her ribs. He released her arms to slowly work his way down her body licking and blowing and tasting. When he reached the slope of her buttocks, he ran his tongue over the seam separating them causing her to shiver. Goose-bumps pebbled her skin, and she started to writhe beneath him.

Jesse flipped her over holding her hips tight. Her legs spread with a simple brush of his shoulders. He took a moment to look at her, absorbing her beauty, from the tawny down of hair she cropped so short he could see all of her without needing to brush it away, to the swollen lips of her labia. He wanted to say something profound and meaningful but the second he opened his mouth to let it out he took one look into her eyes and couldn’t think of one word to say.

He lowered his mouth and tasted her for the first time, running his tongue from clit to the opening of her and back again. The salty, sweet tang of her exploded over his tongue and he hardened painfully. As much as he wanted to take his time, that task was becoming harder and harder. When she grabbed his head, twining her fingers through his hair, directing him to where she wanted him, she finished it quickly, coming hard, thrashing her head back and forth pushing his head away no matter how hard he tried to stay.

Taryn was panting and spent, and it was worth holding back to see the look on her face when she opened her eyes. In that moment he was Zeus, Odin and Ra combined; king of the gods. He decided then and there to make love to her every chance he could get. Maybe then she’d want to stay.

She pulled him up her body, kissing him like she was drowning and he was oxygen. Her hands found him and she brought him to her, pushing herself up at the same time pulling him into her.

She had never felt like this before, not even the first time with Jesse. This time he touched more than her body and her mind, he touched her heart and her soul. She had come hard and fast and wanted to do it again, only this time with him inside her. She felt raw and open and as if there was no barrier between them. She ran her hands down his spine, cupping his buttocks, hands molding perfectly to that concave spot that let her push and pull and bring him deeper. Taryn wasn’t sure who was setting the pace, but it was too hard and too fast for her to hold on. She began to come again, not as intensely as the first time, but this time she was able to hang onto the feeling longer. As the ripples of sensation began to ebb, Jesse pushed harder, then harder again before his whole body went rigid with release. He rolled over, bringing her with him, and collapsed into the mattress as if his body were dead weight.

He closed his eyes. A satisfied smile graced his full lips when he finally said more than one word. “Now you can be on top.”

Things were definitely going to get easier from now on.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Why did everything with Jesse have to be so hard and complicated? Last night she’d embraced their new pretend status and her comfort level with him expanded to the point where she woke up smiling and delightfully sore in places she hadn’t been for way too long. She felt wonderful until he smiled at her in that purely male self-satisfied way she’d rarely seen, and had never grown to appreciate. He’d worn that smile since they left the bedroom, and for that alone she wanted to hit him. Instead, she shoveled in another spoonful of cereal and tried to ignore him, since she couldn’t articulate a reason to smack him. She crunched harder, a sudden burst of super sweet cereal exploded in her mouth and she fought to swallow it.

Taryn grabbed a newspaper from the edge of the kitchen counter and pretended to be engrossed in the arguments for and against Scottish independence from Britain. Heat rushed to her face when she thought of her reckless indulgence last night. She’d let everything she felt for Jesse flow out of her and into him. She meant every kiss, every stroke, every cry she didn’t even try to suppress. Her body had fallen for him, hard. And damn the man for the black-knight he was, because he knew it. Another night like last night, followed by another morning of his incessant peacock-puffery and she’d probably kill him. She needed to get the hell out of Scotland and away from Jesse. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight, so the next best thing she could do was to not be alone with him. Alone, with all his attention focused on her, Jesse was devastating.

Jesse laughed, drawing her attention away from a particularly cogent statement on taxes and military spending that Taryn was trying to read for the sixth time in
THE
SCOTSMAN
.

She didn’t look at him, she tried to read that section again hoping he’d take the hint and go away. No such luck.

“Is it the choice of breakfast cereal, the early hour, or the company that has you so grumpy, my love?”

Jesse reached out and caressed the back of her hand where she had it fisted on top of the paper. She forced her hand to relax and it took real effort not to snap it back. Even this simple gesture set her skin on fire. She’d never been shy about physical pleasure before. In fact, she embraced it, reveled in it, then she got up and left with a
thank you maybe we can do it again some time.
She was comfortable with that. She wasn’t comfortable with wanting to stay and hold hands and make a…
family
.

Taryn ripped her hand away and scowled up at him. She didn’t have the time or the inclination to be thinking of a family. Yes, she was thirty-three. Yes, if she were so inclined to make little ones she should be thinking about it soon, but she wasn’t so inclined, and no blue-eyed-black-knight-on-a-white-horse was going to change that. She’d have to consider a whole different life-plan and she was a little preoccupied at the moment with the up coming shoot, trying to figure out why James Campbell sent her the charm bracelet now and how to decipher it, and…oh yeah…someone was trying to take her at gun point.
A little busy to be picking baby names, don’t ya think?.

Taryn’s eyes shot to Jesse, angry with him for eliciting, even unknowingly, these domestic thoughts of doom.

Jesse crinkled his eyes as she glowered at him, as if he were reading her thoughts and exulting in the fact that he made her feel them. It was hard to stay angry with him when he smiled at her like he was now, eyes warm and inviting, tinged with equal parts of empathy for her turmoil and pleasure that he’d engendered it.

He was barefoot and bare-chested, his worn jeans low on his hips. He hadn’t bothered to secure the rivet at the top and that was far more erotic than it should have been. He was lounging, long and lean, at the counter, cupping a steaming mug of tea. His perfectly mussed waves of rich mahogany hair brushed the tops of his shoulders. When he flexed, the tattoo over his heart rippled. Taryn wanted to touch it, but the look in his eyes said if she reached out to touch him she’d find herself spread out on the countertop before finger met flesh.

“What does it mean?” She’d asked before about his tattoos, but he didn’t answer.

He didn’t try to misunderstand her question. “Not yet.”

“When?”

“When you’re ready.”

“When do you think that’ll be? What, pray tell, do I have to do to be ready?” Her tone wasn’t quite as sharp as she’d intended. His raw masculinity was affecting her in ways she didn’t quite understand and that scared her more than it sho,uld have.

“When you are ready to hear the answer, I’ll know. When that’ll be, I can’t say. That depends on how long you pretend what’s between us is less than it is.” He said, his tone patient and kind.