Paradise Falls (48 page)

Her jaw dropped.

“I don’t want it,” she snapped. “I don’t want their blood money. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

Very slowly, and carefully, he put his arms around her. Jennifer sat for a second and almost threw herself against him, burying her face in his chest. Her eyes burned, and she wanted to cry, but it was like pushing against a locked door.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” said Jacob. “There’s still a chance he wasn’t involved in anything shady.”

“Sir,” said Faisal. “Forgive my interruption. We will be in Virginia soon.”

“Virginia?”

“We’re staying in Arlington,” said Jacob.

“Oh,” said Jennifer.

She sat up, scrubbed at her dry eyes.

“This is going to be difficult,” he said. “We’re going into the lion’s den.”

She nodded.

“Where are we staying?”

“Best Western,” said Jacob.

Jennifer punched his shoulder. His right shoulder.

Jacob grinned. “The Morrison House. I booked us a deluxe suite, of course.”

“Of course,” she sighed. “Aren’t we too early to check in?”

Jacob laughed. “All this money has to be good for something.”

For the rest of the ride, she was quiet, and just leaned on Jacob. The route took them through Washington, D.C. She could see the Capitol building, lit up and surrounded by scaffolding, and the great obelisk of the Washington Monument stabbing into the sky. Jennifer never cared much for cities, and once the monuments passed she turned back to Jacob and tried to catch a few more minutes sleep, and failed. Eventually, Faisal pulled the car to a stop in front of a vast brick house, and came around to open the back doors.

Jacob stepped out, holding her hand. Faisal ran inside to take care of the check-in, and came back out with bellhops and a luggage cart, and began emptying the trunk. Jacob gave each of the bellhops a stack of twenty dollar bills, took the keycard for their room and walked with Jennifer to the elevator, leaving the others to catch up. The lobby was opulent, vast and full of antiques. It even smelled aged, but not old. The elevator ride up was quiet. Jacob stepped out of the elevator first, tense as he scanned the hallway before opening the door to the room.

It was enormous, a proper suite with a sitting room and separate bedroom. The furniture was beautiful, and the entire place warm and inviting.

The effect was somewhat ruined when Jacob went through the room, opening every door and drawer, even flipping through the phone book. He crawled under the bed, checked the bathroom, walked around the room and stood on a chair to push on the ceiling panels.

“Have to be sure,” he said.

Jennifer sighed.

She bit her lip. It was almost time.

She was going to do this.

“Can I take a shower?”

“Yeah, I need one, but you go first.”

The bags arrived. Faisal carried them into the room and set them on the luggage racks by the door.

“Head to your room, Faisal. I’ll call you when we need you.”

Faisal nodded, and left. Jacob very thoroughly locked the door as Jennifer locked herself in the bathroom.

Of course, it was enormous. She liked the claw foot tub very much, but was more interested in the standing shower with its eight heads. She turned the water to full steam, stripped, and stepped inside. Pummeled with warmth of all directions, she could have melted right there. Her neck ached, her feet hurt, she was tired. Maybe this could wait.

Another day.

Another year.

Forever.

No.

She scrubbed herself down with soap, rinsed off, did it again. She did not wash her hair, but fluffed it, and left it down as she wrapped herself up in one of the robes hanging from a hook by the door. After she sat for a while to dry, she stood up and went out into the room. Jacob looked up and pointedly away when he realized she was wearing only the robe.

“Your turn,” she said, yawning.

Jacob nodded, looking at her that way he did, so intensely his face went a little slack and she could feel his gaze moving over her body, before he smiled again and stepped into the bathroom, taking his suitcase with him.

Jennifer grabbed hers. She did not remove any clothes. Instead she plucked Katie’s purchase from where she’d hidden it, wrapped up in one of her sleepy shirts. She put the box on the table beside the bed, pulled the covers back, and quickly slipped under them, leaving the robe on the floor. The sheets were silk, cool on her skin.

She waited. The shower ran, then it shut off. She heard Jacob brushing his teeth, turning the sink on and off. He came out in pajama bottoms and bare feet, his hair still damp and clinging to his neck.

“You know,” he said, “If you’re uncomfortable sharing the bed I can sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not uncomfortable sharing the bed with you.”

“If you say…” he trailed off.

Jennifer was red as a beet. Her cheeks, and other places, were burning. Her heart ran circles in her chest, her belly was tight as a drum and she had to bite her lip to stop it from trembling as she tucked the covers under your chin.

He picked up the box.

“Um,” he said. “What are these for?”

“Balloon animals,” Jennifer said, dryly.

Jacob laughed. Nervously.

“Seriously…”

“We both know you’re not that dense.”

He swallowed, and smirked, and he was blushing. Hard.

God, he was enormous. His chest, his arms. She wanted to touch him. Be touched by him. This was it, she had say something sultry, something slinky, something seductive.

“I’m naked. Get in the bed.”

That would have to do.

Jacob hesitated. He walked around to the other side. He lifted the blankets and sheets very carefully and slipped under them, without exposing her. Something swelled in her, a feeling so strong it made her almost tear up. Joy. He slipped into the bed and laid on his right side, facing her.

She always took the right side of the bed. There was never any discussion. Ever since they began sharing the bed at home…

…
at home…

…Jennifer took the right side, like now.

Jacob’s heat warmed the bed.

“Touch me.”

She scooted towards the middle, the covers still tucked under her chin. She expected him to touch her leg, her chest, but he ran his fingers through her hair.

“I love your hair.”

A trembling smile turned into a grin. “I know. That was the first thing I noticed about you, Jacob. You couldn’t stop looking at my hair. That wasn’t what I meant by ‘touch me.’ Anywhere you want.”

He moved closer. Her breath caught. It was the expectation, the absolutely certainty that panic would grip her at any moment and she’d scream or throw herself out of the bed, but it never came. She rolled on her side, facing him, and he put his hand on her side, just above her hip.

The touch was halting, a first experimental contact with something precious and fragile. He didn’t pull her closer so much as rest his hand on her while she moved herself, drawn to him like a magnet. The skin of his hand was rough. Hs fingers were crooked and broken, painful to flex. As she moved nearer he shifted his other arm, sliding his hand under her. The fingers of his right hand were just as rough to the touch, but warm and careful and gentle, and he held her by the waist and drew her to him, fanning her fiery hair out behind her on creamy silk. He moved closer himself, until the sensitive tips of her breasts touched his chest. He let out a little gasp, perfectly in time with her.

“I must be dreaming,” he said.

“Oh please.”

She pressed against him. The scars on his chest and belly dragged at her skin, hard and ridged, but everywhere else he was surprisingly soft and it was as much of a shock for her as for him, that she was touching him, running her hands over his body, his hard flat stomach and the muscles of his chest. She traced the scars with her fingers, reading the map of his pain as his hands moved up her back, pressing her gently against him. At least, for a moment. His hand sank lower, lower, over the small of her back, before finally settling on her backside, and his fingers squeezed.

There was nothing of fear in the flutter in her chest, no anxiety in the tightness in her belly or the burning heat she felt all over.

“You’re shaking. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Kiss me.”

He did. Not hard. Gently, like it was the first time and he wasn’t sure how it worked. His warm lips touched hers, and they savored each other before she opened her mouth, deepened it. She closed her eyes and drank in the thrill, each touch explosive. His hands swept up her sides, moved lightly over her chest, and she squeaked in surprise in his mouth, broke out laughing. When she pulled back, grinning, he dove for her neck, his warm wet lips pressing to the sensitive skin of her throat, and she moaned softly and wrapped her arms around him.

Her hands scrubbed down his back, over the scars, old and new, and brushed the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

Jennifer hesitated, even as she felt his teeth on her collarbone and jerked in surprise, a twisty thrill shooting up her back. Her hands sank down, over his heavily muscled backside, pushing the pajamas down. He kicked his feet together and they sank further, and she squeezed his rump and drew in a sharp breath before pulling them down past his hips.

Out he came.

Oh.

Wow.

A little flutter of fear rolled through her. Not that fear, the old bitter one. This was different. Pleasant somehow, like the fear of being caught at a dangerous game, the fear of tipping over the crest of a rollercoaster.

“You know this is my first time, right?” she managed.

“Yes,” he said, his breath hot on her shoulder.

“You know what you’re doing?”

“Yes.”

He sank down, under the covers. Jennifer went rigid as she realized she was effectively uncovered now, exposed to him. Again it wasn’t the old fear that gripped her but excitement as he gently nudged her onto her back. He lifted up on his elbows, and she put her arms around his neck and saw the look in his eyes when his eyes roamed over her chest, when he touched her stomach, lighting running a single finger from her navel up between her breasts and back down again, before he dipped down to take her nipple in his mouth.

Almost by instinct, her legs lifted and she wrapped them around his waist, and knotted her fingers in his hair. How could something so simple feel so
good?
It was like being tickled and scratching an itch at the same time, and it made her tingle all over, but most of all in her breasts, between her legs. He was never harsh, never aggressive, his every touch gentle, reverent even. He pulled the covers up himself, grinning at her before he moved lower. His mouth traced down, leaving a warm, wet trail down her belly.

Closer, and closer. He put his hands on her hips, kissed across, not down. Along her hip, the outside of her leg. She started to wonder what he meant to do, but didn’t dare ask, much less suggest. Yet the idea entered her head and would not leave. When he moved back up her leg, around her inner thigh, quivering tickly jolts of pleasure shot through her body and she tucked the covers up under her chin in something like shame, but different. Jacob’s mouth was moving closer, and closer, and she felt heat on her sex. His breath.

He kissed her. There.

Her back arched and she let out the same little squeaky sound she always made when she was most surprised. It was as much a shock as a pleasure, that touch. The warm wetness she felt moving on the most sensitive folds of her body was his tongue, burning hot. Too hot. Her legs closed around him, her heels resting on his back. Her hands found his hair.

He knew what he was doing.

She writhed on the bed, overtaken by pleasure. He read her like a book, like he could feel her own sensations through her and amplify them, grow them, nurture them. Jennifer had never felt anything like this, not even by her own hands. She felt something, a finger, slide inside her, and gasped. It was a strange feeling, different, and grew the deeper his finger went in her body. She trembled as it moved inside, as he curled his finger and teased her within while bringing her pleasure without, until she was clutching the sheets in her fists and whimpering through clenched teeth.

He pulled away, but not far. His finger was still inside her.

“Are you ready?” he said. “Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes!”

“Which one?”

“I don’t care, pick one.”

Jacob laughed at her, but she couldn’t help it, it was explosive, contagious. She burst out laughing, too, even as he drew his finger out of her and moved up the bed, stopping to lightly kiss in random places here and there, along her side, her ribs, the sensitive underside of her breasts, until he came out from under the covers and met her lips with his.

She could have spent a long time like that, lying under him, feeling his body expand against hers as he breathed, but she could feel him down there hard and ready and she grabbed the box off the nightstand, twisting in his embrace. Fumbling with the edges, she finally tore the box open and pulled one of the condoms out. Jacob reached for it.

“Can I put it on?”

“You know how?”

She gave him a flat look.

He smirked and she couldn’t help herself, and started laughing again. He rolled onto his back and she reached under the covers as he tore it open. Her hand closed around his shaft. It was hotter than she expected, and of course, well, bigger. Too big, maybe.

“You be on top.”

“So I can do all the work?” said Jennifer, smirking.

“It’ll be more comfortable that way.”

There was no holding back now. She sat up and let the blankets fall away, exposing herself. It was more difficult now. She was exposed. Afraid, until he touched her, just rested his hand on her hip as she knelt beside him, and, well.

She gave it a little stroke with her hand. “You want a turn?”

“A turn?”

She shrugged and made a little motion with her hand, towards her mouth.

“Wait, what? No-“

“You did it,” she protested.

“I’d rather, yeah.”

She did, well, she wanted to play with it. It almost felt silly. Jacob rubbed her back, ran his hand through her hair as she rolled the condom down his shaft, until it was all the way on. Then she threw her leg over him and before she could do anything else, he pulled her down to kiss her, sliding one hand between her legs while holding her back with the other. His finger moved over her folds, pressed at her entrance, teasing.