He loved Sarah Tia Richards Anderson with all of his heart, had started loving her at the club, had finished falling here on his farm. And man, did that fall hurt.
Jake jumped a little next to Tia, as if startled. He’d sat so still for the longest time Tia wondered if he’d fallen asleep, even though his eyes were wide open, staring out at the lake. She grabbed his arm. “Jake? You okay?”
“I think so.” He looked at her, confused. “I’m ready to go back now.”
“Okay.” They rose, and he pulled her close, embracing her for a long moment. After what he’d told her, she welcomed his contact, his strong arms. She’d wanted to do more than sit curled against him, with her hand on his thigh, but she had sensed that was enough, so she’d settled for that.
“I’m so sorry, Jake,” she said against his chest. “I wish things could have been different for you then. I’d go back in time to make it work out for you if I could.”
She looked up, and he gazed at her with wonder. “After the weekend we’ve shared this far, all of the pain and joy, you’d give that up for me? So I could have Maria again?”
“Of course. Isn’t that what friends do?” She’d give him whatever he needed to be happy. She loved him.
She blinked and her shoulders sagged. It was true. Why else would she put up with wedding sex and a stupid possessed house with insane rules? Why else would her heart feel like he’d wrapped it in bondage tape whenever he looked into her eyes and made love to her? Why else would the thought of Monday make the tape around her heart constrict even more?
Love was bad. Way bad. It meant come Monday her heart would suffocate, because there was no way the tape was coming off. He’d bound her too tight. Her heart was now his, like it or not. And she just didn’t see how loving him would work.
He ran a finger down her cheek, tracing a path one of her many tears had taken. “This is going to sound absurd after what I just told you, but I need to make love to you. Here. Now. Unfortunately, a little on the quick side or we’ll be eaten by mosquitoes. Okay?”
She nodded, shyness bursting upward. It didn’t sound absurd to her. It made sense. He’d opened his soul, and he hurt. He needed to absolve that pain. She did it all the time. She’d help him, because she loved him.
He kissed her slowly, his lips firm yet soft, his tongue exploring, tangling, and dancing with hers. A sweet, fierce kiss that made her cling to his shoulders, longing for the contact of his skin, his hands. They undressed each other, her fingers fumbling with his buttons, his more sure with hers. He broke the kiss, spread their clothes on the ground and gently drew her down with him.
He paused to brush the hair from her face, cupping her chin, and she was reminded of the first time he kissed her under his tree. So gentle, as if he had all the time in the world to savor her despite the mosquitoes. He gave her the smallest smile, one that lit his eyes and tugged at her tummy, one that hinted he wasn’t caught up with ghosts of the past. He was right here, making love to her.
Jake kissed her again, this time with more heat, his lips pressing harder, his tongue deeper, more demanding, igniting the flame of lust that always seemed to slow burn for him. His hands caressed her aching, heavy breasts, thumbing her pebbled nipples.
Wetness pooled in her pussy, the need fueled by the throbbing of his length against her inner thigh. He slid his hand over her mound, easing between her outer lips, delving into her tight heat, testing her readiness. He must have been pleased because he growled, a sound so sexy her breath caught in her throat.
Tia inched under him, wanting his cock inside her in the worst way, not because she craved the release of orgasm, but because she needed him, his arms around her, every inch of his skin pressed to hers. She sighed when he settled between her thighs and sank home.
“Yes,” she whispered, arching upward, drawing him deeper into her pussy. He lowered his weight to cover her fully, arms wrapped around her shoulders, his chest hair rough against her sensitive nipples, the friction divine. His breathing matched hers, fast, ragged as he increased the tempo of his hips, thrusting harder, faster. She spread her legs wider, trying to get him deeper, her fingers biting into the firm flesh of his tight ass.
He came in a jet of molten heat inside her, fierce and sweet, just like the moan of satisfaction in her ear. If he hadn’t been in love with Blondie, she would have sworn he loved her, because it felt like what romantic songs heralded—the fusing of souls, the joining of hearts. He held her tightly, his hips still rocking, his pubic bone grinding into her clit, giving her the stimulation she needed to come, too.
“Come for me, Tia. I need you to come for me.” It wasn’t a command but a plea, one that tugged at every string that ever held her heart in place. And as if to be sure, he eased a hand between them and fingered her clit, beckoning to the sweet pleasure that shyly lurked. “Relax, baby, and just let it happen.”
Relax. She sighed and opened her mind tentatively, allowing that shy part of her the freedom to enjoy his touch. He kissed her, sucking her tongue, as if drawing that shy part out further, not allowing her respite. She moaned into his mouth and let the joyous waves of her climax wash over her, the pleasure as sweetly fierce as his lovemaking. He gave a gentle laugh against her lips, and for once, she relished his smugness.
“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing her again, smoothing the damp hair from her face. “I want to be here all day with you, like this, but my ass is going to be red with welts and your backside sore from all these rocks. Let’s go home.”
Home.
For today, it was her home, too. They dressed and he leaned over to kiss her lips in between each piece of clothing, as if he couldn’t keep his hands or mouth from hers. So fitting and sweet—she felt the same way.
But a part of her died a little as they finished up. She loved him. She didn’t know if his revelation changed anything on his side, but of course, that sappy side of her hoped so. That sappy side felt as if she’d offered her heart during that last orgasm. A heart bound in black tape, on a silver platter, his to destroy, or his to keep and to cherish. It still wasn’t true submission, but it was close. So close, and she feared that because once he owned her heart, the submission would come next. And then he’d change.
The sappy, fragile part of her hoped he’d cherish her heart, and everything would work out, the fairy tale ending to Tia’s very dark story.
But the tough girl in Tia cried in agony, because she knew men. Knew men like Jake. It was just a matter of time before he destroyed her.
Chapter Fourteen
They went back to the house, their return ride peaceful. Tia watched Jake in front of her, swaying in time to Tonka’s footfalls. She thought of the rhythm those lean hips had conducted earlier, between her thighs, and she blushed. Which made her frown at the girly girl part of her, because Tia didn’t blush about sex with Jake, and the sweet, girly side was supposed to be locked away. And she wasn’t going to start that now, not with her heart in jeopardy
Since the lake, tough girl Tia had done her best to start rebuilding a wall around her poor, bondage-taped heart. She removed it from the old maze and found what shreds of dignity she had left to build those walls. She made cement with the blood she’d bled on her self-admission of love, using the snapshots she had in her mind of Blondie to cover any holes. It wasn’t a strong fortification, one he could easily break through if she didn’t guard it. But it had to be enough.
Guarding her heart would be a difficult task since her subconscious kept hitting her with zingers, ones that hinted that he loved her, too. Why would he marry her if he didn’t? Only people in love got married. She thought that part of her mind was crazy. It was the house and its stupid rules.
Jake put up the horses, fed them and cared for them. Tia went in to make him pancakes, not because he was hungry but because she felt she had to do something for him. He still looked a little shell-shocked. Cooking pancakes was a definite heart-guarding experience, so she took it on. Hard to fall in love when one was flipping breakfast foods.
But Jake ate them more heartily than she expected him to and even looked a little cheerful as he sipped coffee. She frowned, thinking him one odd guy. He should be miserable still. Shouldn’t he? But he pinched her ass as she walked by for more coffee, and she glared, feeling out of sorts. He always did the opposite. Always kept her on her toes. He leered down her shirt as she served him more coffee, and she glared again. Man whore.
“So,” he said as he sat back. “What do you want to do with the rest of our day?”
“I have a hat to finish,” she reminded him softly.
“Then I have a book to finish.” He smiled and took her hand in his, the contact way too enjoyable for her tastes. “Thank you for staying with me at the lake.”
“Thank you for the orgasm.”
He took on that smug look again, and she couldn’t hate him for it. Not when he’d ached to give her that one. “Any idea what number we’re on?”
“I lost count.” That wasn’t true. She knew exactly how many he’d given her. Eight. If she were stupid, she’d tell him, so he could finish his wedding present. But she wasn’t stupid, so she smiled and took his empty plate to the sink.
The rest of the morning passed peacefully, him reading, her knitting, curled against his thigh, the silence comfortable. The hat grew in her hands, and she found herself knitting slower, savoring each stitch. When the hat was done, so was their weekend. When the weekend was done, she gave back the ring. She looked down at her left hand at his ring, wrapped with yarn from his hat to make it fit her finger. What would she give to keep it? What would she sacrifice?
She’d sacrifice her soul if he loved her.
“I love my ring on your hand,” he said softly, looking up from his book.
“I’m sure you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She knit faster, despite her need to make it last. “You’re a Dom. Doms are possessive of their subs. It’s sort of like giving me a collar to show ownership. It’s sort of like the huge ring your buddy gave Blondie. She’s his. I’m yours.”
He frowned. “It’s not like that at all.”
She didn’t want to ask him how it was, because his jaw began to take on that certain hard set that meant he was brewing up a batch of stubbornness. “It’s whatever you want it to be, then.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” She looked up again.
The look in his eye had lost any friendliness, and his jaw was definitely set in his stubborn place. “Surrender. Whenever I challenge you, push you, you give up.”
What the hell did he know about her? Give up, indeed. “I do not. I give in, like a good submissive. Big difference.”
“You give up. You just rolled over and said, whatever you wish, so I could walk all over you. That’s not a good sub. That’s not healthy. That’s what I tried to show you last night.”
“Are you not happy with the exchange of power?” She felt she’d given him the control he needed in bed. She’d given him tons of control during their spy sex. She’d work harder out of bed, but what was the point? In less than twenty-four hours, she’d be alone.
“No, not one bit.” He pointed to her hand. “That ring wasn’t about an exchange of power, but now the ring isn’t up for discussion. Your lack of self-esteem is.”
He was digging deep, and she didn’t like the fact that he was digging way too close to the truth. “I don’t lack self-esteem because I don’t want to fight with you.”
“No?”
She didn’t like the dangerous tone in his voice, and the submissive part trembled at the notion that perhaps she’d pissed him off enough to extract punishment. She peeked at him, but the tough girl still held the reins. “Jake, this is stupid. Just read your book.”
“Whatever. Jesus, Kate, I hate it when you do this.” He slammed the book down on the ground.
Tia saw a flash of red and called it mighty pissed off. “What did you just call me?”
“I dunno.” He shifted on the blanket, also pissed. “Tia.”
“You called me Kate.”
He didn’t look the least bit sorry as he glared at her. “Probably because you’re pissing me off like Kate does, only she’s usually right, and right now, you’re not.” Even his shrug was pissed. “I spent over a year working with her. I know she slips and calls Chase my name. I’ve heard her. It’s only normal that I would eventually slip and call you hers. Especially when you’re pushing my buttons like she does.”
Fear made really good glue for the walls that caged in strangled hearts wrapped in black bondage tape. “You’re cheating on me again.”
“The hell I am. I’ve thought of nothing but you. Jesus, Tia. I’m a man. I’m human. And I care about you so much it hurts right now, and I know you understand that pain. It hurts me because you’ll never believe, not in a million years, that I could care for you.” He stood, anger shimmering off him like a sweltering heat wave. “The next time you feel like giving up, you remember that. I care. Grow a set of balls, Tia. Give in and let me care.”
He stalked away, and it took everything in her not to run after him, to tell him she cared, too. But he was right. She didn’t believe him. Oh, she wanted to, but he lied too easily, especially to get what he wanted.
Instead of doing something incredibly foolish, Tia returned to her knitting, hoping the wool wouldn’t turn to felt where her tears hit it.
****
It took Jake probably five minutes to calm down enough to realize he’d been an ass, again, and his fear shouldn’t ruin the last precious hours they had together. He went to the barn and began going through the horse’s tack, cleaning leather, scrubbing the grease and grime from the stitches. Nothing soothed a soul like hard, tedious work, and scrubbing two sets of grungy tack should have worked at soothing his soul. But it wasn’t working.
He hated that he was right. There was little he could do to convince her he loved her, so he chickened out and went with the lesser “I care.” Sure, he’d spend the day charming her, and he’d do his damnedest, but it all came down to the simple fact that she would give up and run.