Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) (21 page)

There's an underlying message there but I'm
so
not getting into that right now. Instead, I just nod my head, trying (and probably failing since I have no poker face), to hide my disappointment.

He grabs his jacket from the counter and I follow him to my front door where he lets himself out. I'm leaning against the door (the feelings I have about him leaving requiring me to hold on to something) when he hits the porch, turns around, and gets close.

Straightening, I watch his hand move towards my face until I can't see it but can feel it slide along my jaw and up to my cheek, his other hand coming up and settling on the side of my neck. My hands shoot up to his sides, grabbing hold of his jacket as I stare, wide-eyed at his head descending.

There's a split second right before where our eyes meet and I can't breathe.

His eyes are focused on me and filled with heat, tenderness, a touch of possessiveness, and something I can't read.

So beautiful.

So unfathomable, that I immediately shut mine. I don't get to witness the unknown emotion moving front and center, but when I feel the press of his lips, soft against mine, all thought flies from my mind.

My hands clutch tighter as I press myself flush against his body, trying to get closer. I feel his tongue trace the seam of my lips, pulling a gasp from me, but giving him the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue in and against mine. I let out a small moan.

God, he tastes good.

I move my tongue against his tentatively at first, but soon the kiss goes from soft and exploring to heated and wild. We’re all lips, tongues, and even teeth. I push up to my tiptoes, my hands sliding up his back and one continuing up into his soft hair before grabbing hold. His hand at my neck slides down to my ass, pulling me even closer and I feel
everything
.

Hands grabbing, tongues dueling, heads slanting one way then the other as we finally let ourselves get a taste of what’s been there from the start.

Another moan escapes me and this goes on a while. Long enough that it’s gone way past ‘kiss’ and into ‘mini make-out session’ territory.

By the time he finally yanks his head away, both of our chests are heaving.

“Fuck, Annie,” he growls, the hand at my ass giving a squeeze.

“You can say that again,” I breathe.

He grins, leans back down and lays a soft, short, closemouthed kiss on me before bringing his head back up.

“Fuck, Annie,” he repeats.

I smile, giving him a squeeze this time. “What was that for?” I ask.

He watches me for a beat and then lays shit out.

“Been wanting to do that since I watched you strut towards me, acting like you didn’t know I was there, but knowing I was. Got worse the second I caught you in my arms and felt your body against mine. Every time I touched you,
fuck
, every time you opened your mouth, it grew. Couldn’t hold back any longer. Especially with you looking so
goddamn
pretty
while looking like me leaving was the last thing you wanted. I finally had my shot, no one around to interrupt or get in the fucking way. I could’ve waited till tomorrow, but that’d be stupid since I would’ve just missed out on a fucking great kiss. And it was, baby. A really fucking great kiss. One of the best.”

My body warms, my stomach dips, and my heart starts racing.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t move.

All I can do is stare in wonder at the man in front of me, who's quickly starting to mean something to me, as his words replay in my mind.

Looking so goddamn pretty
.

And it was, baby. A really fucking great kiss. One of the best.

Holy shit.

Holy freaking shit.

Holy Mother of
freaking shit
!

Though, there is something about it that I have to correct.

“Um, Jake? That wasn’t a fucking great kiss,” I say and his head shoots back, so I hurry on to finish. “It was more like a fucking great make-out.”

He blinks at me then throws his head back and laughs, yanking my face into his chest.

Since he’s stronger than me, I have no choice but to hold on and enjoy while he does.

It's not a hardship.

When his laughter fades he looks down at me, his eyes still dancing and his mouth still twitching as he agrees. “You’re right. A fucking great make-out.”

I just smile at him.

“Right. As much I don’t want to go, I need to head out. Before I do, I want your mouth again,” he says, eyeing me expectantly.

I register his look then raise back up on my tiptoes, tilting my head back in invitation. My eyes are watching his lips so I almost miss the tender (and possessive) look that crosses his features before his head comes down, but the second his lips touch mine, the look is forgotten and I’m lost.

After our kiss, which was more like a
mini
mini-make-out—since it included tongues
and
was a little heated, but all soft—he slides his thumb along my cheek and takes a step back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Annie. Lock up behind me,” he demands quietly, giving me a chin lift and then a nod to indicate the locks on my door—like I don’t know where, or what, they are.

“Tomorrow, Jake,” I whisper.

He gave me a grin and a two finger flick (I’m noticing that’s kind of his thing) before turning and hoofing it to his truck, beeping the locks as he moves. Once he swings in, he turns the key but waits.

When he doesn’t move but just keeps staring at me, I realize he’s waiting for me to shut and lock the doors. I don’t hesitate to do so, making sure to throw him a wave before I do.

When I hear his truck growling down the street, I let out a huge breath and sag against the door as my eyes roll to the ceiling.

Fuck
.

Beauty Like Yours

Friday morning, I’m lucky enough not to be woken by the sound of a loud beeping alarm. Instead, a sharp pain to my shin has my eyes shooting open in a wince.

“Son of a nutcracker,” I groan, reaching down to rub the spot.

Robby, Nate, Evan, and Dad always snickered at me when I used that phrase. But, since Mom had sons I never felt right using the more known phrase (well, more like she never liked me using it and freely told me so, so I had to adapt).

When I look towards where the kick came from, I see Evan sprawled out with her mouth wide open. I decide to repay her for the
lovely
wake up and give her leg a shove with my foot.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your humor), she happens to start rolling right as I deliver the shove. A shove which helps send her toppling over the side of the bed where she lands on the floor with a loud thud.

My eyes are wide with surprise as I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to stifle my laughter. I move to lean over the side and look down at Evan. When I catch sight of her, I drop my hand and lose the fight.

She's on her back, her eyes blinking rapidly, confusion and disgruntlement written all over her face.

When she hears my laughter she turns her annoyed eyes to me. “Shut
up
,” she snaps.

I just laugh harder.

If she could get annoyed and tell me to shut up, she was fine.

“How the hell did I end up on the floor?” she asks me.

“You got a taste of your own medicine,” I say, simply trying to control my laughter.

She just keeps looking at me, annoyed.

Letting out a harrumph, she pushes herself up into a sitting position only to catch the light beaming in from the window, squints her eyes, and flops back to the ground.

“Ugh, who turned on the sun?” she groans.

I shake my head and throw back the covers, getting out of bed.

“I’ll grab you some aspirin,” I offer, looking to the end table where I see her glass is empty. “And another water. Stay put.”

She flings her arm up, letting me know she understood.

I head for the kitchen.

*              *              *

By the time I left the house for work, Evan had crawled up back into bed, and was snoring peacefully with Juliet at her side.

Obviously the climb was an exhausting one.

She didn’t seem worse for the wear after our talk last night. Then again, a wine hangover isn’t something you shine through either, so I can’t be sure until I talk with her later.

On the bright side, she was too out of it to ask why Jake was here last night. But I’m expecting a call around three or so when she’s a functioning human being again.

Pulling up to the site I do a quick scan, noting a lot of the guys already there and working, but there’s no sign of Jake or his truck.

Grabbing my things, I hustle (while trying not to look like I'm hustling) to the trailer, trying to get out of the cold as quick as possible. When I clear the door and hit the heat, I let out a sigh of relief. The trailer itself is quiet so I'm clear to head back to the office and get to work.

I have time to take my jacket off (my camel brown leather this time) and swing it on the chair, unload and boot up my laptop, and take a sip of the black and white mocha I picked up on my way, before the door swings open. I don't even need to look up. I know who it is by the way my body reacts. Still, when I tilt my head back and catch Jake’s eyes, my thighs clench.

I haven't let myself think about the kisses we shared last night.

Okay, that’s a lie.

I haven't let myself think about the kisses we shared last night,
today
.

Okay, the last half hour.

Ten minutes.

Seeing him standing there, I also realize I've focused so much energy on the kiss I didn't even think about what was going to happen when I saw him at work.

I should’ve.

I would’ve prepared myself a little for the disappointment I’d need to hide when he didn’t repeat last night’s actions.

Turns out, there’s no point in worrying about
not
worrying.

Jake catches my eyes, stares a beat then moves, heading straight towards me. When he comes around the desk my body follows, swiveling the chair around. My head tilts way,
way
back to stare up at him when he stops in front of me. Luckily, I don't have to keep the position long (serious crick in the neck) since he reaches down, grabs my hand and yanks me up and out of the chair.

“Ja—” I start, but that’s as far as I get.

His head slants and his mouth slams down on mine. Taking advantage of that fact that I'm talking, his tongue dives straight in and he takes control. My hands fly up, grabbing hold of his shirt to keep myself steady, but there’s no need. One arm wraps around my back, pulling me close to him while the other reaches up and tangles in my hair. I feel tingles in all the right spots as I melt into him, pushing myself closer. So close, I'm squished against him and I don't give one single shit that I am.

A whimper escapes my throat.

Just as I'm getting into it, as in
really
getting into it, he pulls back. Only far enough so he can rest his forehead against mine, but his lips a breath too far away. I take my time opening my eyes, not wanting the moment to be over, but when I finally open them far enough to focus, I watch his already shining eyes smile.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says quietly in a deep, scratchy voice.

I melt further into him.

A smile tugs at my lips. “Morning, Jake,” I reply, my voice its usual breathiness around him.

He moves his head forward and plants a gentle kiss on my lips before pulling back and bringing his entire face into my line of sight. A smile, this gentle too, is front and center.

He brings his hand down from my hair, scorching a path down to my waist. “Been waiting all morning to do that,” he says, giving me a squeeze.

“Really?” I ask, my face morphing into one of disbelief.

He catches it and makes one of his own.

It's intense, hot, and
way
better than mine.

“Yeah, babe. Really. That so hard to believe?” he questions.

Crap.

I didn’t want to wreck the afterglow of the kiss, but it seems to be too late.

“Um…kind of,” I say haltingly.

Annoyance replaces his disbelief.

“Why’s that?”

I blink.

Seriously?

It's obvious why.

I just shake my head. “Never mind,” I mutter while I look to the side, putting pressure on his arms.

I manage to make it an inch before I'm flush against him again, his arms going even tighter.

My eyes slice to his. “Why are you always doing that?” I snap, moving straight into annoyed.

“Doing what?”

I nod my head to indicate us. “
This
. I try to move away but you don’t let me go, or you pull me right back. Why do you keep doing that?”

He doesn't hesitate to answer.

“Cause I like touching you.
Feeling
you. And I don’t want to let you go. I want you close, so I make it that way.”

My body gets that warm happy feeling it gets every time he says something sweet and caveman-ish that makes my heart speed up a little.

Even though he said it in a way like it’s the most normal thing in the world and I’m crazy for not thinking so.

I probably shouldn’t think it’s so hot, but…I do.

Sue me.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks in a tone that demands my attention, and has my heart racing for a whole other reason.

When I look at his face, I mean really look at it, I go still.

I shake my head and answer with a quiet, “No.”

His face only loses a hint of the edge I see there. “No, babe, I didn’t. And
I
never will,” he promises, his voice, much like his face, is steel, but also gentle.

He wants me to get it.

To understand the difference between the way he handles me and the way Xavier did, but I haven't even been comparing the two.

My gut clenches in a seriously unsettling way when I realize that’s what his mind automatically assumed.

That I compared
him
to that piece of shit.

Pulling my hands from around his back, I lay my left on his chest, fingers clutching in his shirt, while my other hand moves to his cheek.

Then,
I
lay it out.

“Please,
please
never think that I would compare
you
to
him
. Not
ever
,” I whisper vehemently while I shake my head, trying to straighten my thoughts. “I was just annoyed. You make me feel so much, more than I have in a long time, if not ever, and it freaks me way the hell out. In a way that I don’t even know what to do with myself half the time. And when I’m trying to get some space so I can think shit through, but you won’t let me, it just freaks me out more because I have to deal with it then instead of dealing with it later.” I close my eyes and take a breath before looking into his. “I like you, like
a lot
, and I can’t figure out why you seem so interested in me.” He opens his mouth to say something but I lift my hand from his chest and lay my fingertips on his lips, shaking my head. “Let me finish,” I plead. When he nods, albeit reluctantly, I move my hand back down and go on. “It’s hard for me to believe someone as beautiful as you would be interested in
me
. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m no slouch and I’m by no means ugly. It just baffles me. But, I made a promise to myself, and Evan, that I would try. That I would face all that comes with trying. And that I would do all that with
you
. But please never think it’s because I think you’d hurt me, because I don’t. If there’s one thing I do know it’s that
you
never
would
. I’ll try not to doubt you when you say sweet things to me or about me, but you’ll have to be patient with me. Deal?” I ask, hoping like hell he’ll be able to be patient with me.

He studies me for a moment before he slides a hand back up to my cheek and brings his head down to give me the most unbelievably sweet kiss I’ve ever gotten
in my
life.

“No deal.”

I blink.

Then I pull my head back and stare at him.

“What?” I whisper as my stomach drops from the worry.

He shakes his head. “No deal, babe.”

I blink again.

“What do you mean ‘no deal’?”

Dropping his hand to wrap around my waist he brings me even closer, putting us back into the squashed territory.

I'm so caught up in my confusion I can't even enjoy the delicious feel of him against me.

At least, not to its full potential.

“I mean that’s bullshit, so no deal.”

My eyes get squinty at his words.

“And what does
that
mean?” I snap, my gut no longer clenching in worry.

Now I’m irritated.

Everything I just said was
not
bullshit.

I put myself out there.

I let him know just how much he affects me, and he calls it bullshit.

That’s
bullshit!

He has the nerve to grin when he catches my look but it doesn’t last long. His face gets serious, his eyes intense in that scary hot way they get when he's looking at me.

He dips his face, bringing us a breath apart before he speaks. “You’re fucking beautiful, Annie, and it's bullshit you don’t think so. That asshole messed you up in ways you don’t even realize. Every negative word you spout about yourself is fucking
bullshit
. So, no, I’m not gonna deal with you putting yourself down, thinking you’re not good enough to be with me. That shit stops, n
ow
,” he growls.

The color drains from my face and my heart tries to hammer its way out of my chest.

Fuck.

Fuck
.

This won’t work.

He doesn’t get it, can’t understand it.

We’ll crash and fucking burn before we even take off.

My shoulders slump as those thoughts run through my head.

“Jake, it’s the truth. And you can’t tell me to stop and then it just stops, it doesn’t work that way. This kind of stuff has been inside me for
years
,” I stress.