Blissful volume 2 (New Adult Romance) (5 page)

Amy

The creaking door wakes me up. My eyes slowly open, adjusting to the land of the living again. I don’t know for how long I was asleep, but I feel much better. My head aches less and I have more energy.
I look up and see Jack peeking through a gap.

He opens the door farther when he sees me looking, comes inside, and closes it behind him. “I just wanted to check up on you,” he says.

He drifts through the room as though he doesn’t know where to put his feet. I watch him walk closer, the ripples of his muscles moving. His lips are curved down, but even when he looks miserable he’s still beautiful. He sits down next to me and breathes in and out, gazing into my eyes.

“I feel much better. What time is it?”
I say, and I sit straight up in bed. Looking down, I realize I put on a skimpy tank top for sleeping, and I totally forgot it doesn’t cover up much of my blubbery skin. Shit. Terrified he might see, I pull up the blankets farther.

“Good. It’s eleven o’
clock. Maddy’s in bed already,” Jack says.

I don’t know why he’
s telling me that. He scoots a little closer and lifts his hands, reaching for the bandage around my head. “May I?”

I nod, and he takes off the wrappings. Feeling my head, he checks the wound
. “Looks good,” he says.

He’s so close, I can hear him breathe. And I can smell him. He
reeks of bourbon.

I sigh
when he puts the bandage on the table next to the bed. “You’ve been drinking again.”

He snorts. “Liquor helps me get through the night.”

“There are other ways to get through pain.”

He turns his head away from me and tries to get up.

I grab his hand. “Wait.”

“Why? So you can lecture me?”

“No … I …”

I let go of him again, but luckily he sits down again and rolls his eyes. I don’t want to force him to stay, but I don’t like it when he goes, either.

“You shouldn’t be drinking. What about Maddy?”

“What about her?”

“Who will she look up to when you’re drinking yourself into the gutter?”

He shakes his head and lowers it between his shoulders.

“A man like you, whatever pain you’re trying to process and go through, needs to stay strong. For his girl.” I swallow. “For me.”

A brief glance at me is all it takes. I can see the shock in his eyes. If I had a mirror right now, I know I’d see the same in mine. I can’t believe I just said that.

“For you? You mean to say that after what I said to you today, after all that crying we both did, after you’ve seen the wreckage that is inside me, you want me to be there for you?”

I know I’m glowing red as a beet now. “No, that’s not what I meant. I … oh, just forget it.”

Shit, I’m being so self-absorbed right now, and that’s not at all what I meant with what I said. I turn my head and look at my suitcase, which is a giant pile of messy clothes. I should sort that soon. Yep. Way to avoid thinking about that amazing man sitting on your bed right now, asking you if you like him that much. Yes, Jack, I like you, even after all that. And I want to be there for you, too. I want to discover about you and all the darkness inside you, just like I know the good. I want to hold you close, console you, and love you. I wish I had the guts to say it, though.

Suddenly I feel his finger graze my cheek. I look at him, and see him smile while he caresses my cheek and brushes aside a strand of hair.
I gasp. We’re looking into each other’s eyes, and he’s so close now I can feel his breathe on my chin. Can he see what’s inside me? What I’m thinking? That I want to be there for him as much as I hope he is for me? Even if we’ve both been through hell?

His hands are cupped around my face
, and he inches closer. For a moment I hold my breath and close my eyes. His breathing tingles against my lips. When they press against mine it feels as though I’m on cloud nine again. He’s soft and delicate, moving slow and passionate. I want to embrace him and hold him against me, encapsulating him in my warmth.

But he backs away again. Opening my eyes, I can see tears welling up in his.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers.

“You aren’t.”

He looks down at the sheets, the only space between us. “I’m afraid … so afraid that all I want is a woman. That it’s just lust. I don’t want to do that to you.”

I place my hand on his arm. “I know it isn’t. I’ve seen you, Jack. The way you look at me.
The way you treat me. You care about me. You can tell me all you want, but I’m not falling for it. I know what’s inside there.” I press my finger against his taut chest. “Just like you knew with me.”

He grasps my finger and pulls it up to his lips, moving it around as if he’s caressing himself with my fingers. I can feel his yearning, how much he wants to be loved, but the
angst is holding him back.

No more.

Leaning closer to him, I grab his free hand and press it against my chest, close to my heart. “We both need love. I don’t care if you’re a rebound.”

He lets go off my hand and looks at me. He scans my face, checks out my breasts
at exactly the place his hand is resting, and looks farther down. He looks at my leg, the spot which isn’t covered by the blanket. I took off my pants long ago, and when he sees the bare skin his hand slips under the blanket.

I hold my breath as I feel his rough hands gently slide up my leg, moving to a painful bruise on my knee. He caresses it softly, easing the pain. Then his fingers slowly urge upward to my thigh.
I hiss and shudder as he reaches my inner thigh and squeezes it. I can feel the heat pooling my belly and the moist building up between my thighs. I don’t want him to stop, but it’s scary having another man touch me there.

He leans in and
presses his lips onto mine. It’s breathtaking. The way he shivers as he touches me, the way his lips are both curious and anxious at the same time. I want it. I want all of it. I want him, every part of him, no matter how bad.

We both need someone to love us.

When he stops, a tear trickles down his cheek. He lets his head fall down onto my breasts, burying it into my chest, and he sniffs. “I want to have you so badly. Please, let me have you,” he whispers. “If only just for the night. Make me forget.”

His fingers dig into my skin
, and his breathing is ragged. I can hear he’s holding himself back. He wants me terribly, but we both aren’t sure if this is for real. If it’s love or lust. If it’s just a relief from the pain.

But we’re both the same. We both need the consolation. The sweetness of love to mend our wounded hearts. I won’t hold him down. I need this as much as he does. However
damaged we are.

“You can have me,” I say.

“But I’m a broken man. I can’t offer you anything in return.”

“You don’t need to. We both have to ease the pain, and we can do that with love.”

He lifts his head and starts kissing me again. It’s soft and subtle, but he’s still whimpering. The saltiness of his tears makes me want to smother him. I don’t want to let him go. I want to give him what he needs. What I need. More. We will heal each other, if only for the night.

He
stops for a moment and looks me in the eye. “Are you sure?”

I nod.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t like.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” I say, muffling a laugh, and I press my lips firmly against his.

His hands curve around my face, and he crawls farther onto the bed. His lips feel so good, so tantalizing, I can’t stop kissing him. I want more. So much more. Don’t ever make it stop. I can taste the bourbon from his mouth, but it doesn’t matter. Alcohol won’t interfere here. I will be his painkiller tonight.

His fingers slip underneath my tank top, and I swallow down the lump in my throat. It feels confrontational, having someone touch the bare
fat on my body. Grabbing my tank top, he pulls it up over my head. Out of instinct I grab the sheets and cover up my body. It’s what I’m used to. Covering up is what I always do.

Jack stares at me, his brows furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asks.

I tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re afraid to show a little skin?”

I don’t answer. He’s right, though, but answering would be admitting to my lacking self esteem, and I really don’t feel like doing that right now. I just want to forget.

“Do you really think I wouldn’t like what I see?” he says.

I sigh. He grabs my hands and urges me to get out of bed. “C’mon. Get up.” He almost drags me out, and when the blanket drops off me, I feel really vulnerable. I’m partly exposed, wearing only a black bra and some panties. Not very attractive.

With my hands clenched around my body, I stand in the middle of the guest room, feeling utterly naked. Jack drags me to the mirror and makes me stand in front of it. He’s right behind me, looking with me over my shoulder.

“Look at you,” he says. His voice is soft. I’ve heard these same words before, but never in such a loving way.

“Really look at yourself. What do you see?”

“Fat,” I say.

He shakes his head and muffles a laugh, making me feel more self-conscious.
“You really don’t see it, do you?” He grabs my wrists and forces me to open my arms and let my guard down. His grip is strong, but not overpowering. He’s gentle, letting me get used to the idea of someone watching me, seeing my body.

“You’re beautiful, in every way,” he whispers close to my ear. The sound makes me tremble in place.

His hands move down my arms and land on my waist. Warm finger slip up my body and across my belly, exploring the lines and indents. “Curvy, at most. But it only means there’s more to love.” He takes a breather in between as if he’s preparing for something. “Do you honestly think I don’t like what I see right now? That I haven’t ever thought of touching you? That I haven’t dreamed of making love to you? Fucking you all night long? Well, trust me, I have. Day in day out. You don’t even know how much I want you.”

I can’t believe he said that. I
s this real?

I turn my head and see him smile a ridiculous smile. His hands are wrapped around my waist
, and he’s pressing his body against mine. Jack’s showing me it doesn’t matter what I look like. I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t care. He’s so sweet and sexy. I can’t help but kiss him.

His lips are eager and fulfill my desire of being loved. His kisses become increasingly voracious, and it makes me want more. I can feel a bump pushing up against my ass, and I know it’s his
cock. His hands start shifting, moving across my body. One hand explores my thighs, my hips, clutching my butt. The other slips up toward my breast and cups it. I gasp as he squeezes it and groans inside my mouth.

He wants me. He really wants me. I can feel it by the way he kisses, from his clasping, and from his sweet words. Not to mention what he hides in his pants.

His lips move from mine and go down to my neck. I tilt my head so that I can enjoy more kisses as he plants them all around. He’s playing around with my breast, alternating squeezes and moaning into my ear. I should feel terrified, but I’m not. He makes me feel at ease. I want to give in to his love.

Jack pulls down m
y bra, and I know he can see my breasts in the mirror. I glance at him through it, and I see him watching me. His fingers are dexterous, and the way he touches me sets me on fire. He’s enjoying the sight of me, and I let him. He makes me feel free.

As he unclasps my bra from the back and it drops to the floor, I can feel his cock twitching against my butt.
His hands are exploring every part of my body, slipping and sliding across my most sensual spots. It’s as if he knows exactly how to caress me, even though this is the first time.

In a moment of pure lust his hand slips underneath the fabric of my
panties, and I gasp. He’s touching my privates, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. Ronnie never touched me so affectionately. Never looked at me with those longing eyes. It’s as if Jack’s pining for me. Coveting the connection that’s between us.

“
I want you, Amy,” he murmurs. “I want every part of you. Every piece of beautiful skin. All the chunks of your broken confidence. Everything.”

His words sound
as though they always belonged to me.

He’s kissing my sp
ine, moving toward my butt, kissing all the way down. He gently nudges down my panties as his lips leave marks on my creased skin. His fingers delve into my thigh, as his other hand drags down the fabric until it reaches the floor. I’m naked. I’m completely naked, staring at myself, being loved by Jack.

It’s so surreal and yet so true.

Suddenly he lifts me up from the floor. He throws me onto the bed in a passionate impulse and rips his shirt over his head. I gape at his lean muscles, the thickness of his abs, the sculpted v-line. I admire everything about him. Not just his physique, but everything about him. The way he works hard on his ranch, how he makes sure Maddy’s okay, how he’s nice to everyone he meets, and how he’s loving me. I’m falling harder for him than I could imagine, although I still don’t see why he likes me so much. Maybe it’s only the lust driving us now. Maybe he’s so overcome by his emotions and desires that he doesn’t care who it is he’s loving. Well, it doesn’t matter either way. I feel lucky to be his rebound, and that he is mine for the night.