Lucky Stars (28 page)

This he also found irritating.

“Handle her with care, Jack,” she warned softly. “Belle deserves that.”

Jack’s jaw clenched yet again at her imparting this unnecessary piece of advice before she continued and what she said made his gut clench.

“You see, there were those before you who didn’t so it’s essential you do.”

Before he could utter a word, she swiftly and silently swept from the room.

Her parting words obliterated the serenity he’d felt minutes before.

His mind turned to Belle and his first night together, her earnest demand that he promise she could trust him and the conversation they never had the next morning where she was going to share her secrets.

Perhaps, he thought with no small amount of uneasiness, they should talk before he’d fully earned her trust and made their relationship far more pleasantly complicated.

His arm tightened and he shifted her closer, deciding to clear the foreboding from his mind by reading.

He was engrossed in his book when she woke.

Her cheek gliding on his chest, her eyes opening and focussing fuzzily on his book, Jack watched her blink a couple of times. Then her head tipped up and her grey eyes, still groggy, were soft and had no trouble catching his.

“Hi,” she whispered and Jack felt that one word, uttered in her sweet voice, drift across his skin like it was a physical touch.

“Welcome back from dreamland, poppet,” Jack murmured, closing his book and dropping it to the floor.

He pulled her up his chest as he twisted her torso more fully on top of his.

She did not struggle as he did this. Instead, she lifted a hand to pull the wisps of hair away from her face and her eyes dropped to his mouth.

When he’d positioned her so their faces were close, before he knew or, he imagined,
she
knew what she was about, her lips curled into a small smile. Then she rested her hand on his chest, leaned in and touched her mouth to his.

At this light touch, he felt a surge of warmth through his body but, mouth still on his, Belle froze then jerked back.

Swiftly, his arms closed around her, containing her retreat.

She’d given him his opening.

It was time, Jack decided as the warmth remained in his body, to make things considerably more complicated.

Decision made, Jack didn’t delay.

“No, love,” he murmured. “Don’t be afraid, finish what you start.”

“Jack –”

He cut her off by demanding in a low voice, “Belle, kiss me.”

He felt her melting, her fingers curling into his shirt but, still, she resisted.

“Jack –”

One of his hands slid up her spine and, as it always did, this caused her to shiver. His body absorbed it as his fingers sifted into her hair at the back of her head.

He angled his own head forward and, lips against hers, he repeated softly, “Kiss me, poppet.”

“Please –” she begged even as he felt her body moulding to his.

He should put her out of her misery but he needed her to kiss him. He needed her to make that first move of her own volition (albeit with his coaxing). He needed the statement of what such an act would mean, to her as well as to him.

However, if she didn’t do this soon, he’d do it. With her body pressed to his, her thick hair falling through is fingers, he was losing control and he was losing it irritatingly fast.

Therefore, his voice was rough when he urged, “Belle, I want you to kiss me.”

Her eyes looked into his, he saw the struggle she was waging with her mind then her lids grew heavy, her stormy gaze grew dazed and he knew he had her.

Her head tilted and she pressed her parted lips against his.

That was all he made her do. Jack gladly took it from there.

He knew his end game before she put her mouth to his.

He had no intention of fucking her on the couch as much as he wanted to do so.

He had every intention of making her desire spin out-of-control.

He was going to make her want him so badly she couldn’t hide it from him or, more importantly, herself. She couldn’t deny it and she definitely couldn’t walk away from it.

He was not, however, going to leave her wanting.

Using his hands and mouth, his vivid memories of the delicious places where she was most vulnerable and the innate understanding that she’d been abstinent the last four months, relentlessly Jack took her to the edge in very little time.

They were facing each other on the couch, side by side, his mouth was on hers, their tongues dancing,
her
hand was up his shirt at the back, fingers digging into his flesh. He’d pulled her skirt up around her
hips,
his hand was in her panties, fingers pressing into a place that forced those sweet, husky, unbelievably sexy noises from her throat.

This was when Jack, somewhat vaguely, recognised the flaw in his plan.

For he might have no intention of fucking her on the couch, he had the forceful desire to do just that.

He controlled his craving with an iron will and, when she pressed her hips into his hand, he ended their kiss and murmured against her lips, “Tell me what you want, poppet.”

He thought this would take some effort.

He was, with masochistic indulgence, looking forward to it.

Therefore he found it surprising, and infinitely satisfying, when it took no effort at all.

She pressed her torso to his and her free hand slid into his hair as her hips ground down on his hand.

Then she lifted beautiful, dazed eyes to his and whispered, “You.”

At her easy but delightful capitulation, he slid his finger inside her and watched her lips part and her neck arch as his hand moved.

Jack loved the sleek, wet feel of her and the sound of the noises she made. He’d only had them for a night, four months ago but having them again made him realise the raw intensity with which he missed them.

As her reward for giving them to him again so freely, he pressed his thumb to the heat of her and circled.

The noises she made quickened. He knew she was close and his mouth came down on hers and absorbed the soft, sweet mew of her climax.

He broke his mouth from hers and tucked her face in his neck as he coaxed the final tremors from her body, her breath coming fast against the skin at his throat.

When she was finished, gently, he pulled his hand away from her. When he felt the swift intake of breath between her lips, he decided that instead of
righting
her skirt as he intended, he’d slide his hand over her bottom and press her soft hips to his hard ones.

And this was what he did.

She remained pleasantly docile in his arms and only when he felt the stiffness of embarrassment creeping in did he speak.

“Don’t,” he ordered gently.

“I can’t believe –” she whispered against his throat.

“Don’t, Belle,” he repeated on a squeeze of his arms.

She grew silent.

Then, hesitantly and very softly, she said, “You didn’t –”

Jack cut her off again, “When I have you again, poppet, it’ll be in my bed.” He paused. “Or yours.”

“But why –?” she began again and he interrupted her again.

“I was impatient to make things more complicated.”

He felt her tip her head back to look at him and when he dipped his chin to meet her eyes, he noted she hadn’t moved her arm from around his back and the fingers of her other hand were still in his hair.

This made him inordinately glad.

As this feeling stole over him, he watched her eyes change, that radiance from earlier in the day came over them but she remarked, “You get impatient a lot.”

“This is probably true,” he agreed.

“It’s definitely true,” she whispered shyly and he grinned.

His head bent further and he touched his mouth to hers.

He only moved away an inch to say, “Then it’s only fair to warn you, after that magnificent display, I’m feeling even more impatient to make things vastly more complicated.”

“Jack –”

He cut her off again by saying simply, “Belle.”

Her eyes skittered to his ear. He felt a mild annoyance that he lost her even for a moment before what she said next, in a voice that was so quiet it was nearly imperceptible, made this annoyance melt away.

“You don’t think I’m a brazen hussy?”

He stared at her long enough for her eyes to come back to his in anxious enquiry and when they did, he burst out laughing.

Her body went stiff but he knew it wasn’t in embarrassment. It was irritation.

Even so, his arm tightened around her, his hand at her ass pressing her hips deeper into his and he held her close to him until he controlled his amusement.

When he dipped down his chin to look at her, it was not difficult in the slightest to read that she was cross.

Her next words and the way she uttered them, including using his full name, proved her expression true.

“You laugh at very strange things, James Bennett.”

“I’m not sure you realise how amusing you are, poppet,” he returned.

“I wasn’t meaning to be amusing. In fact, nearly every time you’ve laughed I wasn’t meaning to be amusing,” she shot back.

He loved it as well when her shyness disappeared and her spirit emerged (but not nearly as much as the noises she made when she was reaching orgasm).

He decided for her sake to try to be serious although he found this difficult considering the subject matter.

“All right, love, obviously this means something to you so perhaps you can explain to me how exactly you’ve behaved like a brazen hussy.”

He could barely say the last two words without chuckling but he managed it.

Just.

Her mouth dropped open before she said tartly, “Well, let me see. I had sex with you within hours of meeting you.”

His head dipped close and he brushed his lips against hers before muttering, “Yes, that was nice.”

Her hand left his hair and she slapped his bicep.

“Jack, I’m being serious,” she snapped.

He moved his face away from hers and fought back a grin.
“Of course, my apologies.
Carry on.”

Her eyes widened at his invitation then they narrowed then she hissed, “Carry on? Do I need to remind you that I also spent the night with you, I was dating your brother at the time and, icing on the cake, I got pregnant. Now, I’m adding ice cream, whipped cream
and
sprinkles by fooling around with you
on your couch.
” She emphasized the last three words then, as if his study was open to the public and they were on view, further stressed, “
In your study.
” She waited for his response to this damning information and when there wasn’t one she finished, “If that doesn’t define
brazen hussy
, nothing does.”

Jack made a guess and knew, intuitively, it was no risk.

“Have you ever had sex with someone the first night you met?” he asked.

“No,” she answered instantly.

“Have you ever had sex with someone when you were dating someone else?” he went on.

“No!” she responded rather more forcefully.

His hand drifted up her spine and he continued light-heartedly, “Have you ever fooled around on a couch in a study with the father of your child?”

He felt her body tense then relax before she said, “Jack –”

He didn’t let her continue.

“What that means is you aren’t a brazen hussy.” His face got closer to hers and his voice dipped lower. “What it means, my love, is that I’m a very lucky man.”

“Jack –” she began again, he had no idea what she intended to say but he didn’t care.

He again didn’t let her finish.

Instead, he changed the subject by saying, “Thank you,
poppet
.”

He watched her head jerk and her face grow confused before she asked hesitantly, “For what?”

He moved, using his body to push hers back into the couch so he was mostly on top of her, tangling his legs with hers but protectively avoiding resting any of his weight against their child in her belly.

His lips went to her neck as he tugged down her skirt.

“For letting me make you come,” he answered on a murmur.

Her hands moved to rest against his chest and, even as he felt her tremble, she suggested, “Maybe we should have that talk now.”

His head came up and his hand moved to frame the side of her face.

He watched her a moment and then asked softly, “Do you feel safe with me?”

She blinked then wet her lips but she did not answer.

His thumb traced her lower lip while he muttered, “That’s all right,
it’ll
come.”

“Jack –” she started yet again but he dipped his head and kissed her, thoroughly. He didn’t break from her mouth until her hands slid from his chest, her arms were tight around him, her body was pliant under his and he knew, at least for that moment, she was his.