Authors: Angela Verdenius
“Velcro girl?”
“More my style.”
Regardless of how the time had started, Izzy and Lora spent the next half hour lingering over dessert and coffee chatting about general things, and by the time they left the café Izzy felt like she’d know Lora forever.
Pulling into her driveway, she got out of the car to see Jason in the late afternoon sunshine raking up the leaves from the big tree in his front yard. At the sight of her, he grinned widely, leaning the rake against the tree and coming over to the fence dividing the houses. Leaning his forearms on the fence, he watched her approach.
“Hi.” She smiled up at him.
He crooked a finger. “Come here.”
It didn’t take a genius to know what he was thinking, not when his gaze lingered on her lips then lifted to hers with a flare of heat.
Leaning her own forearms on the fence, she smiled up at him. “You called?”
“Yep.” He pecked a kiss on her lips. “I’d say I missed you, but that makes me sound desperate.”
“Desperate is good,” she assured him.
“Is that so?” He dropped another kiss on her lips before drawing back enough to rub the tip of his nose against hers. “Isn’t this the way Eskimos greet each other?”
“Have you been watching documentaries?”
“No, I just heard it somewhere along the track.”
“Must be a mighty interesting track.” Feeling happy and relaxed, she gestured to the rake. “Been a busy boy I see.”
He glanced at the rake. “I try. Idle hands, devil, that kind of thing.”
“Uncle Harris’s words of wisdom?”
“He has a lot of those when he thinks they’re called for.”
“Well, when you finish raking, I’ve a little something for you.”
A gleam entered his eyes. “A little
something
for me?”
A tingle went through her. Stepping back, she smacked his arm lightly. “Food. I meant
snack
food
. Chocolate biscuits, in fact.”
“More than one way to feed the body, baby.”
Laughing, she started for the house. “Come over when you’re ready.”
“I’ll just clean up and be right there to feed my
appetite
.”
“I think you might be overestimating the invitation, Jason.”
“You think you slipping into something more comfortable is overestimating?”
Laughing, she unlocked the door and went inside.
Arnie met her at the kitchen doorway meowing loudly.
Getting the ‘roo mince out of the ‘fridge, she filled his food bowl. “I’m surprised you didn’t just waltz right over to Jason’s and demand food from him.”
Catching sight of the thread on her cardigan, she slipped it off. Maybe she’d take Mrs Dawson up on her offer to fix the cardigan, she was partial to it.
The front door opened, Jason calling out, “You didn’t lock the door!”
“I knew you were coming.” Opening the pantry, she pulled out the packet of assorted chocolate biscuits she’d been hoarding for a special occasion. “Come in and sit down. Or do you want them in the lounge?”
“Lounge. Let’s get comfortable.”
There was no pretending not to hear the combined laughter and heat in his voice.
Grinning, she shook the biscuits into a bowl, grabbed two glasses of orange juice, placed them all onto a small tray and carried it through into the lounge.
Standing beside the sofa, Jason held up a crumpled piece of paper. “Looks like Arnie has been raiding your mail.”
Recognizing the writing, Izzy froze. It was the letter from Moira pleading for her help.
Pleading
.
Had he read it? Seen some of the words? Her heart thumped hard. It didn’t look like he’d read it, it was still crumpled.
Jason frowned. “Are you all right, Iz?”
“Have - have you read it?” Izzy asked with dread.
God, if he’s read it and freaks…
“It’s not mine, so no.” Concern and curiosity flickered through his eyes. “Is something wrong?”
Slowly, carefully, she placed the tray on the table before straightening.
“Izzy.” Moving up to her, Jason touched her shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Tipping her head back, she met his gaze. She so desperately wanted him to understand. It was nothing huge. No, not true. Maybe not to someone else, but to her it was huge.
Folding her arms, she searched his face, seeing the concern, the kindness, the strength. Relationships based on secrets had never been part of her, had never needed to be. She was in a relationship. He’d shared with her, told her things others might have hesitated to tell, but he’d respected her enough to share his story.
She had to respect him in turn. Trust him.
She sank down onto the sofa. “Read the note.”
Sitting beside her, his knee touching hers, he held the crumpled paper out, his expression serious. “I don’t need to.”
Izzy took a deep breath. “I need you to.”
“Iz-”
“You trusted me, Jason.” Placing a hand on his knee. “I’m trusting you.”
Face softening, he covered her hand with his. “Then that’s enough for me.”
“Please. Read it.”
After several seconds he turned his attention to the paper, smoothed out the wrinkled sheet and read in silence while Izzy held her breath. Not one expression crossed his face when he finished and looked at her. “Okay.”
Reaching out, she took the paper and crushed it in her hand.
A long, strong arm slid around her shoulders, squeezed her to the leanly muscled chest, warm lips pressing a kiss to her temple. “Want to talk about it?”
Surrounded by his strength, his acceptance, his caring, Izzy let out a long sigh. “Yes.”
This time it was easier.
Jason was quiet while she spoke. When she finally stopped, he simply said, “I’m proud of you.”
“Proud of me?” Surprised, she pulled back, turned to face him.
Taking her hands in his, Jason regarded her soberly. “You didn’t give in, you stood up for yourself. That took guts.”
“Some would say I should have helped.”
“You offered to get that useless prick a job. That was way more help than just handing over your savings for him to squander.” Leaning forward, Jason pressed a kiss to her brow. “They ever bother you again, I’m right behind you.”
Relieved - a feeling she was getting a lot in the last couple of hours - she smiled up at him. “Behind me? Not in front of me?”
“Behind you, in front of you, beside you. I’m with you all the way.” He kissed the tip of her nose, leaned his forehead against hers. “All the way, Iz.”
“So sweet.” She kissed him gently, gratefully, feeling so protected for the first time in so long.
“You’re the only one who has ever called me sweet.” His hands slid beneath the sleeves of her cardigan to stroke along her forearms, eliciting little shivers through her at the sensation of his calloused fingertips lightly abrading her skin.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” She met his mouth, leaned into his kiss. Whispered against his lips, “I do like you a whole lot, Jason Dawson. Might even have a crush on you.”
He laughed softly against her lips. “Ditto, Isadora Kempton. Only I know my crush is no ‘maybe’.”
The kiss changed, grew deeper, going from combined amusement and attraction to hotter intimacy.
His body was warm, the skin beneath his shirt almost hot over the swells of his abs. Izzy spread her hands over the muscles, her body already remembering the sensation of being pressed against him, accepting him into her.
The flare between them grew rapidly hotter, need surging through her in an almost desperate rush of desire. Impatiently, she drew his old flannel shirt down over his broad shoulders, tossing it aside.
Jason stripped her cardigan off her, and before she knew it he’d whipped her t-shirt off as well and was working on her bra.
Izzy would have blanched at the thought of being half naked in front of him in broad daylight, but Jason didn’t give her a chance. He ravaged her mouth, licked deep, taking over so fast, almost dominating, yet not once did she feel overpowered.
The way he groaned into her mouth as he pushed her backwards onto the sofa was a balm to her doubts, the power of his hands beneath her bottom urging her hips up sending a thrill through her, the way he stripped off her slacks and panties along with her ballet flats while giving a growl of approval as his gaze raked down her when he straightened enough to toss her clothes aside letting her know how much he hungered for her.
That hunger was undeniable. The gleam in his eyes was pure ardour, hot need, carnal craving all wrapped up together.
For her.
It stroked her confidence, had her reaching for him, welcoming him as he rose above her, the swells of his pecs pressing against her breasts.
He kissed with single-minded focus - his pleasure and hers. He found what she liked, repeated it, licked deep, filled her with his taste.
Her sexual appetite was roaring to life, fire burning through her with every stroke of his palm on her skin, every growl of prurience that escaped him as he feasted on her mouth with hot enjoyment.
He moved lower, licking, laving her with his tongue, and then his mouth found a nipple, made her arch up, her hands tangling in his hair as every strong draw of his mouth pulled on strings of desire buried deep inside her, sending sparks wildly dancing along her nerves, sizzling and snapping, growing ever hotter, ever more sizzling as he moved to her other nipple, nipped tenderly, sucked strongly.
Her whimpers filled the air, her panting breaths, and when he finally shifted lower she could only follow his wordless orders, her thighs parting further as those broad shoulders demanded room.
“Oh God.” Head back, she bit her lip as his breath hit the slick flesh bared to him.
Hard hands gripped her thighs, slid behind her knees, bent her legs, giving him complete access to her secrets.
Then the final breach, his thumbs sliding between the sheltering labia, parting her.
She couldn’t think, embarrassment washing through her swiftly followed by glorious, scorching, wet heat as Jason licked her. From low on her perineum right up to the curve where her labia met at the top.
It was too much, too quick, too soon. Not enough. She squirmed, a keen breaking out of her when firm lips closed around her hidden pearl, sucked it out, made it strain and swell and fill her with agonising pleasure as his tongue curled around the pearl and began a tiny, stroking motion to go with each strong suck.
She shattered so fast she didn’t know what happened, flung out into wild waves of heart pounding desire, sucked back in by swirling flares of fire that just grew hotter and hotter as he played her, sending the waves crashing again and again, mercilessly pushing her up before pounding her under in a wild ride of eroticism.
Breasts heaving with every ragged breath, she opened her eyes to find him above her, his eyes hot, glittering, firm lips smiling with ravenous ardour. His legs, now bare, slid against hers, his thighs between hers, his arms braced either side of her as he rose up, biceps bulging as he took his weight. His breath sucked in, the lean muscles swelling as he inhaled, his shaft probing her secrets, finding the weeping entrance to her body, his hips flexing as he thrust inwards.
Lord, he was so big. Big, long, filling her so full, almost pushing her over the edge once more as his burning length invaded her so decadently, delicious flares of fiery passion seeking to wrap itself around his length to hold him inside her.
She felt every drag of his body out, every insistent thrust in, felt every glorious inch of him as he took her with a mastery that thrilled her to her soul. As he took her with care, his gaze so hot, so filled with lust, yet searching, watching her, and she knew deep within the recesses of her prurience that he never forgot her, was so very aware of her. Her pleasure, her comfort, her very being.
Her heart overflowed with happiness, with passion, something shifting deep inside her heart making her lunge upward to slip her hand around his neck and whisper hoarsely, “Come with me. Please, Jason,
be
with me.” She felt the hesitation, saw the flicker in his eyes. “Please. I want you so badly.
Be
with
me
.”
She knew when she’d broken through his control. A squeeze of her inner muscles, her hand reaching between them to cup his sac and squeeze careful but firmly, making him buck and curse and groan. His shaft flexed inside her, seemed to swell impossibly more.
His eyes changed, growing from hotly watchful to carnally wolfish. His hips snapped forward, wringing a moan from her, and then he rode her hard, pounding into her as he lost control, throwing his head back as he took her.
Simply took her with every powerful thrust of his body. The driving force behind his sexual invasion shoved her into the cushions, shifted her up the sofa so that she had to reach up and slam her palm against the armrest to keep her position.