Authors: Maya Banks
She sighed but said nothing. When he looked up, he saw her green eyes glittering as she looked at him. There was a swirl of delicate patterns. Confusion. Hurt. Need. He was well-acquainted with the need. He wished he could be what she needed. All she needed.
Where the hell had that come from anyway? He shook his head. In an attempt to get his head on straight, he stood and bent to pick her up, intent on getting her into the bathtub.
He was too abrupt in his movements, and a small whimper escaped. His gaze flew to her face to see the strain around her eyes. Her mouth was compressed tight as if she hadn’t wanted him to hear her cry out.
“God, it seems I’m always apologizing for hurting you,” he said in self derision.
He walked into the bathroom to see the water still running into the large garden tub. He lowered her into the steaming water. Her small, pink-tipped breasts slowly disappeared from view. They bobbed a bit in the water, and the swell was still evident over the rise of the water. It was a torturous sight for him. He wanted to touch her, lean down and run his tongue over that tempting strip of pale flesh, draw the puckered nipple into his mouth.
“Are you okay with this?” he asked. She never took baths, and he wasn’t sure that day she’d jumped in the pool had completely cured her of her fears.
She let out a moan that sounded like a mix of pleasure and pain as she rested her head against the back of the tub. “I’m okay. Enjoying it too much to panic.”
He frowned as he saw a bruise already forming at her hairline. He reached up to touch it then traced a path back further into her hair and saw a bloody cut.
“You probably need stitches. I should have taken you straight to the hospital,” he said in a near growl.
She opened her eyes and focused her stare on him. “Seth, I’m okay. Really. No blurred vision. No nausea. I only lost consciousness for a bit.”
He swore again. “The fact that you lost consciousness at all is a damn good reason for you to be in the hospital. How do you know how long you were out? You never wear a damn watch, and I doubt you’d have noticed what time it was on your way off the horse.” The sarcasm crept into his voice despite his desire not to upset her.
She smiled then winced at what the action cost her. “It wasn’t long. I just got the breath knocked out of me. I didn’t push myself too hard trying to get back. I don’t want to go to the hospital. I’d rather stay here with you.”
Her words balanced delicately between them. Stood as a barrier. He wanted her here with him as well, and that was a huge problem. He reached up to turn off the water and stood awkwardly.
“I’ll be in your room. When you’re done, holler. I’ll come get you.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and got out as quickly as he could, not caring that he was running like a coward.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jasmine closed her eyes again and sank lower into the tub. She would sigh, but it would hurt too damn much. She felt like one giant bruise, and she was so tired she could feel exhaustion beating at her, beating her down.
She wanted him to hold her again. She’d stay in the tub for a long while, until the water cooled, but she knew the longer she made him wait, the more likely it would be that he’d run as far away from her as he could. And no matter that she’d forced herself to once again confront her fears, she still felt uneasy in the water.
So she soaked a few more minutes and then called out to him. He appeared seconds later, his expression controlled. As he came to the edge of the tub, he frowned.
“Aren’t you going to wash your hair and that cut?”
“I’m not sure I can,” she replied honestly. It wasn’t a blatant play for his attention. She wanted to be in his arms, but she wasn’t playing flirty little games with him. She wasn’t sure she could lift her arms, much less undertake the arduous task of washing her hair.
His expression softened as he knelt by the tub. “Turn around,” he said. “Scoot up and lean back so I can wet your hair.”
She hesitated for a fraction of a second before she did as he said. The water swirled and sucked at her body as she positioned herself so he could better reach her hair. She folded her knees to her chest and inched forward. She nearly moaned in pleasure when his warm hands folded over her shoulders and guided her back so that she was reclined in the water. She swallowed some of her nervousness as the water worked higher over her body.
He held her with one hand and pulled his other hand through her hair until all the strands were soaked. “Okay, sit up, baby.”
He pushed gently until she was once again sitting upright. She heard the squeegee-like sound of him squirting shampoo into his hand, and then he dug his fingers into her scalp.
She let her eyes flutter shut and leaned back into his touch. He massaged and lathered, working the soap into her hair. With each rub, she relaxed more. She didn’t even flinch when he carefully worked around her cut.
“Like that?”
“Mmm hmm.”
It was over too soon and he began to rinse her hair. She let out a small sound of disappointment when he signaled he was finished.
“Stay where you are,” he ordered when she started to lift herself out of the tub. He plunged his arms deeper into the water and curled them underneath her knees.
With seemingly no effort, he lifted her out of the water. It streamed down her body and pelted the floor. He paused only to wrap a towel around her body and then one around her hair before he carried her into the bedroom.
He set her on the bed and pulled the covers down. “You want a T-shirt?”
She should say yes and make it easier for him, but why should it be so easy for him when it was so hard for her? She shook her head.
“Let me look at that cut now that it’s clean,” he said before she could shed her towel and climb underneath the covers.
He reached for the towel covering her head and pulled it away. He rubbed the cloth over her hair, ruffling it in an effort to dry it as much as he could. After a bit, he tossed it aside and put his hand back to her head. She sat still while he thumbed a part in her hair so he could view the wound.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered. Though it wasn’t entirely true. She couldn’t stand this stiffness between them. He alternated between hot and cold, soft and hard with her. As if he couldn’t make up his mind whether to love her or despise her. She was tired of feeling like a coin flip.
“It doesn’t look bad. I’d feel better if a doctor looked at it, but I think it’ll be okay.”
She nodded slowly. Then she looked up at him and wondered at the picture they made. Him standing above her on the bed. Her sitting with just a towel wrapped around her, her heart in her eyes.
As if drawn to the image in her head, he lowered his hand until he cupped her chin. His thumb rubbed across her cheek in a sensuous line. She stared unflinchingly at him, not caring if she was broadcasting her need. She wasn’t ashamed.
His head moved closer. She inched hers higher. His hand slipped away. His lips were just inches from her.
He stood to his full height, and she slumped in disappointment. “You should rest,” he said gruffly.
“I’m not tired.” And it was true. The exhaustion that had permeated her every pore just moments earlier had now washed away. Every nerve was standing on end, her awareness of him a living, breathing thing. “Stay with me. Please?”
Rife indecision carved lines across his face. At his sides, his fingers curled back and forth into fists, betraying his unease. When had things gotten so unbearable between them?
Just when she was convinced he’d say no and beat a hasty retreat from her room, he let out a small sound of defeat and sat down on the bed next to her.
“I’ll stay if you rest.”
She allowed some of the tension to escape her, and almost immediately, the fatigue was back. She sagged against the bed like a deflated balloon. Seth caught her and eased her down, then he moved up behind her and gingerly laid his arm across her waist.
She scooted back against his warmth, seeking the comfort of his arms, his touch, the feel of being melded to his body. She twisted restlessly against him until his arm tightened around her, a clear command for her to stop.
Edginess surrounded her. She itched on the inside.
“Relax,” he murmured in her ear.
His hand came up to stroke her hair. She smiled and allowed herself to settle. She loved it when he touched her hair.
After a few minutes, the dampness from the towel chased a chill up her arms. Her skin prickled and rose with bumps.
“You need to get out of this towel,” he said, though he didn’t sound happy about the fact.
Instead of waiting for his inevitable retreat, she simply rolled and shimmied until she was free of the towel. She threw it across the room and pulled the covers up over her. She slid her naked back against his chest once more, wanting to restore their earlier closeness.
“Jasmine…” he began.
She rolled over to face him, her fingers seeking his face. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please, don’t go.”
She lifted her chin and pushed in closer until their lips met. He stiffened, his resistance clear in his body language.
She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, encouraging him closer,
needing
him closer. “Please.” She was begging. She didn’t care.
Emotion swelled in her throat. Don’t let him push her away again. God, please, no.
“Jasmine, I can’t—”
She kissed him again.
“Jasmine.” His voice grew quieter, his objection fading.
She kissed him again, pulling him still closer.
“I need you,” she whispered. “Show me, Seth. Show me how it can be.”
“You’re hurt. You need rest.”
“I need
you
.” She wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. He came, sliding his body along hers. She spent no time rejoicing over her victory. She didn’t want to give him any chance to think better of it.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, the pain in his voice making her shiver.
“I know you didn’t. I should have told you it was my first time.”
“It will be better this time,” he promised.
“I know it will.”
He crushed her to him, his lips molding to hers. He tasted her, devoured her, explored her with alternating roughness and tenderness.
There was a wildness about him that was ever-present, something he couldn’t control, a part as integral to him as breathing, and yet, at times, he tempered it. He would pull himself back, she could feel it, as he skated close to the edge, he’d retreat, his movements gentling.
His kisses became more tender as his body moved urgently against hers, a compelling contrast, two motions completely at odds.
She pulled at his shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin, wanting to wrap his heat around her. He paused long enough to help her, yanking his shirt off. Then he knelt up and unbuttoned his jeans. He stepped off the bed and kicked off the remainder of his clothes, and she pushed up on her elbow, watching him there in front of her, naked, glorious, strong.
He stood for a long moment, allowing her the luxury of staring at his lean body. Her gaze skirted up and down his taut abdomen then lower to the juncture of his thighs. His cock, stiff, distended, jutted from the dark smattering of hair.
Hard, he was hard everywhere. Muscular, tight. His blue eyes blazed with lust as he looked down at her.
She opened her arms to him, inviting him back down, praying with all she had that he wouldn’t refuse her. He lowered himself to her body, and she wrapped herself around him, her relief so strong it left her weak.
He kissed her neck, nipped and nibbled then soothed with his tongue. They were blanketed by their passion, their hunger for one another all-consuming.
For Jasmine it was all she’d ever wanted. For Seth? She could imagine it was all he ever wanted to avoid. The idea should hurt her, should drive the wedge of despair even deeper, but she clung to the small hope that he loved her but was too proud, too stubborn to give in.
She arched her neck, wanting more of his mouth, eager to feel his tongue on her skin. He skimmed along the hollow of her throat, lower to her chest and finally to the mounds of her breasts.
A sound of pure feminine appreciation escaped as he mouthed one nipple, licked over the tip then sucked gently on the bud. His fingers trailed down her sides, to her hips then feathered over her belly. He plucked at her belly ring before allowing his mouth to slide down to the dainty piece of jewelry at her navel.
“You did this for me,” he murmured.
She smiled. “I did it because I knew it would drive you insane.”
“Evil little wench.”
She shifted restlessly underneath him, opening her legs, spreading them wider to accommodate him. He smiled at her blatant invitation.
“Kiss me…there,” she said. “I want your tongue, your lips.”
He nuzzled between her tender flesh and licked at the slick skin. Each swipe sent warm flushes streaking through her abdomen. Her body felt too warm, too flushed, too out of control. Her senses were not her own. They belonged to the man lying between her legs, his mouth taking her to her absolute limits.
He sucked lightly at her clit, not too hard, oh she loved that. Too hard would have been uncomfortable, but he seemed to understand the right balance between just enough pressure and not too much.
His tongue licked and flitted over each little sweet spot, her body tightening more and more with each stroke. Higher and higher she climbed, even as her mind protested. Not yet. She didn’t want to come yet.
She didn’t even realize that the whimper was hers. That the small uttered “no” spilled from her lips.
Seth raised his head, his expression intense, his eyes glittering with a dangerous need. She trembled when his hands gripped her thighs, and he slowly spread her legs wider.
He eased upward, his body moving along hers. Every scrape of his skin against hers sent a purr of contentment soaring through her throat. His hair-roughened legs slid along the inside of her thighs as he inched closer to her aching pussy.