Someone Like Her (24 page)

Jake wasn’t drunk enough to believe he was dreaming when the soft, warm body nestled alongside his. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know who it was. Even blindfolded, he’d know the scent of her, the touch of her.

“Maria,” he whispered.

“Hush,” she said, and pressed her naked body against his.

Although he knew he should, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words that would send her away. If he opened his eyes, her being there would be all too real and he’d say something to hurt her, to make her leave. He needed her too much, and even though he thought it the most selfish thing he’d ever done, he pulled her close and pretended to himself that she was only a dream.

Delicate fingers traced over his chest, across his ribs, made their way down to his ass. And then—oh, Jesus—and then a shudder passed through him when she cupped his balls, kneading them as if she wanted to imprint the feel of her fingers on them. After playing with them for a few minutes, she danced her talented fingers up his shaft, wrapped them around his erection, and rubbed the tip over her clit.

Holy God.
Jake clinched his balls, his cock, and his stomach to keep from coming right then and there. He’d once been a man who took his pleasure when and where he found it, as often as he could find it.

Until Maria.

“You’re holding back,” she whispered, then covered his mouth with hers. “Don’t.” Her last word vibrated over their joined lips.

He came.

He came in her hand, couldn’t have stopped it even if he’d put every ounce of his SEAL training to the effort. Surprising him, she scooted down and covered his cock with her mouth, sucking him dry.

Jesus. Oh, Jesus.

Amazingly, even drained, he was still as hard as a rock. “Maria.” There were so many things he wanted to say, but only her name seemed to matter.

She slithered back up his body. “I know. I know, Jake.”

“I want you so bad, need to be in you . . . I don’t have any condoms.”

“Then it’s a good thing I do.” She reached over, dragged her purse next to the air mattress, and pulled out a foil package.

Somewhere in his drunk brain he thought he should stop, make her go, but the man that needed to be inside Maria—needed her this one last time—allowed her to set the rules. Her slick, hot heat drove all thoughts of anything but her from his mind. As he slid in her and out and back in, he wondered if he might be dreaming after all. This couldn’t be real, this slice of heaven not meant for him.

Those fingers he’d already admired for the things they could do to him slid down the crack of his ass and again grabbed hold of his balls. Where the hell had she learned how to do that?

Jake wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her into him, wishing the time wouldn’t come when he’d have to let her go. He thrust deep into her, touched her core, and tried to draw her heat into him.

Home.
Maria was home and he’d returned to her safe haven. As long as he held her close, he wouldn’t see Tennessee’s face as he spoke his last dying words. Pushing the thought from his mind, Jake gripped her hips, spread his fingers over her soft skin, and helped her match his rhythm. In and out—slow and easy—in and out. He never wanted it to end.

All too soon, she clinched her inner muscles around his cock. “JakeJakeJake.”

The way she called out his name, strung together with no breaths in between, the way it sounded like a plea for something only he could give her, almost severed his control. Gritting his teeth, he waited until the shudders traveling through her body faded. Then he flipped her over, rose to his knees and grabbed her legs, hooking her ankles behind his back.

Because he feared words he had no right to say would flow from his mouth, he clamped his lips together and pressed his fingertips into her thighs. A need to possess every inch of her rose, bringing with it an aggression he’d never felt before with any woman. There was a beast inside him he never knew existed before her, one that craved to mark her as his, one that wanted to kill any other man who touched her.

Afraid this violence welling up inside him would cause him to hurt her, he called on all his years of discipline and training, tempering his movements, softening his touch.

She gave his ass a thump with the heel of a foot. “Stop it. I feel you holding back and I don’t want you to. I want you to give me everything you’re feeling.”

“I’ll hurt you,” he ground out.

“Never. Give it to me, Jake. I need it.”

He couldn’t deny her, couldn’t deny this new need powering up inside, ready to explode. He let go of the control he’d tried to maintain. Still on his knees, he ruthlessly thrust into her, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to leave bruises.

“God, yes,” she cried out and rose up, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she scraped her teeth across his shoulder, then clamped them down on his skin.

“Jesus, Chiquita,” he gasped. The pain was exquisite. Jake cupped her bottom, supporting her and burying his face in her neck, pressed his lips to her pulse point, and inhaled her scent deep into his lungs as he sucked on her skin, satisfying his need to mark her.

“Now. Please, now.” She wiggled against him, taking him deeper inside her.

“Maria,” he whispered reverently, knowing it would be the last time he would say her name while joined so intimately together. He came hard and fast, his hips rocking, grinding against her pelvis as though he just might be able to disappear into her depths.

“Jake,” she answered, whispering too, and tightening her hold on him.

After one last thrust, he eased them down onto the air mattress. Spent, drained to the equivalent of a wet noodle, he combed his fingers through her hair and took a few seconds to regret allowing this to happen and what he was about to say. Although it would hurt her now, she deserved better than him and someday she’d thank him for it.

It would mean never returning to K2 and the job he loved. When she met the right man and fell in love, there was no way he could bear watching her with someone else, couldn’t stand seeing her have babies who weren’t his. The job on the West Coast was waiting for him, and he’d leave as soon as possible.

She’d fallen asleep, the way she always did after they made love. For a few more minutes he held her in his arms, trying not to think about it being the last time he’d ever do so. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, imprinting it in his memory, then kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering on her silky hair.

Refusing to consider his actions, he slipped his hand under his pillow and palmed his knife. At the bottom of her neck, where she wouldn’t notice it missing, he cut off a strand of her hair. Curling it around his finger, he held it up to the dim light of dawn. Staring at it, an idea occurred to him. Something he could do for her. He wasn’t sure how much he needed, so he plucked a half dozen—probably more than necessary but he wanted to be certain.

So as to not wake her, he slowly stretched his hand to his duffel bag and grabbed his sunglasses case. After tucking his prize inside it, he slipped the knife back under his pillow and allowed himself a few more precious minutes of watching her sleep in his arms. It would be for the last time.

The moment had come to let her go.

Biting back words of love—the things he really wanted to tell her, had planned to say once he’d returned home—he gave her bottom a little slap and forced the hateful words out of his mouth.

“Thanks for the fuck, Maria. Time for you to go home now.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

W
hat?

Maria struggled up from the sated sleep she’d fallen into after the most amazing hour of her life. What had he said?

“Hey,” she said, lifting herself up on her elbow and peering down at him. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

The gray dawn of morning gave enough light to see his face. Her heart sputtered at the cold in his eyes and the firm press of his lips. Lips that only a few minutes ago had explored every inch of her. How could he love her the way he just had and now look at her as if she were as repellent as a blood-sucking leech?

“I brought coffee and donuts. I thought we could watch the sun come up over the Gulf together. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunrise. I’m not a morning person, but you probably already knew that. Or maybe you didn’t.”

She was rambling—knew it and couldn’t stop. She didn’t exactly know what he’d just said, but her instincts screamed loud and clear that she didn’t want to hear it again. So, she kept talking.

“You probably like mornings. I brought coffee and some donuts.” Now she was repeating herself. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got an assortment. I figured you’ve probably gone all macho . . . you know, living off the land, eating fish and who knows what. The coffee’s in a thermos, so it’s still hot.”

She trailed off and waited for him to say something. Anything. He said nothing, not a word. Nothing but a closed-off, cold stare. What had she done wrong? After he’d loved her so fiercely—so possessively—as if he’d desperately needed her, she’d thought everything between them would be okay.

The insecurity she thought she’d put aside returned. Had she been too shameless, too much like her mother? Acted like a whore? She had so little experience with men, and didn’t understand them. What she knew of them, she’d learned by spying on Lovey Dovey. It wasn’t until she’d seen the loving relationship Logan and Dani had that she’d started to yearn for that kind of love for herself.

Somewhere, she’d once read men wanted their wives to behave like their mothers, to be all prim and proper little women while their mistresses fulfilled their fantasies in bed. She’d dismissed it as rubbish, but now she wasn’t sure. Sex with him had been a little wild from the first, but tonight had been different and some kind of line had been crossed. She’d let go of the last of her inhibitions with him, and maybe he didn’t want a whore for a girlfriend.

“I’m sorry,” she said, although she wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for. That she was apologizing for unknown reasons stirred resentment.

“Go home, Maria.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. Time for you to go.” His gaze shifted to the door of the tent, as if he couldn’t bear to even look at her.

“Why? At least, tell me what I did wrong.” Now she was begging. Her resentment level rose. She felt like she’d been used, only to be tossed away. Maybe she should take a lesson from Lovey Dovey and charge him for her time.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong. It’s just not going to work between us.”

Words tumbled one on top of the other to the tip of her tongue. Begging words, pleading words, hateful words. Maria swallowed every one of them and pushed off the mattress. She’d be damned if she would beg.

“Whatever,” she snapped as she snatched up her clothes. “Enjoy the coffee and Danish. They’re the last thing you’ll ever get from me.”

He finally looked at her but with eyes that had grown even colder, if that was possible. “I do appreciate the fuck. Saves me a trip out later to . . .” he trailed off, his gaze sliding away again.

“Bastard.” Naked, Maria ran to her car. Thank God no other campers were up to see the nude, crazy woman with tears streaming down her cheeks. After quickly pulling on her clothes, she started Sally and turned the Mustang for home.

By the time she reached Logan’s house, her heart hurt so badly she was blubbering like an idiot. How she made it home without crashing into a tree, she didn’t know. She sat in the driveway for fifteen minutes until she got her emotions under control. With only lingering hiccups, she slipped into the house. Before heading for her room, she detoured to the kitchen to get the pint of chocolate brownie ice cream she knew was in the freezer. She would eat her heartache away.

“You’ve been crying.”

Maria yelped and turned to glare at her brother. “Dammit, Logan. I hate it when you do that.”

Logan smirked. “Lurking’s what I do best.” His gaze fell on her neck and his demeanor turned hard. “Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him if he did.”

He probably would, too. She grabbed the ice cream and a spoon before sitting across from him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“He marked you. I warned him if he hurt you I’d make him sorry.”

She resisted the urge to slap her hand over her neck. “Jake didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to, so put away your gun.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, why do men have to go all macho on me?”

“Maria.”

“Be quiet and let me drown my sorrows in a thousand calories of fat.”

Her brother proved he was a patient man by staying silent while she made her way through the container. Her preference would be to finish this pint off, then hide in her room to cry the day away. That he’d let her get away with that, she knew better than to expect.

Logan had been her protector from as far back as she could remember. He’d kept her safe from Lovey Dovey’s obvious resentment of her daughter, kept her out of the hands of men who’d turned unwanted attentions on her.

She’d once asked him why their mother hated her. “Because you’re prettier than her,” he’d said.

It had taken her years to understand, but eventually she had and it had been just another heartbreak in what appeared to be her destiny. The only person in her twenty-four years who’d never hurt her was Logan, the brother who wouldn’t let her leave the kitchen without telling him why she’d been crying.

Stuffed, she sighed and pushed the empty container away. If she told him everything Jake had said to her . . . well, she didn’t want to even imagine the consequences. “He said it wouldn’t work between us.” She managed to tell him that much without her voice betraying just how much she hurt, but she swallowed hard before she admitted her worst fear. “I think I acted too much like Lovey Dovey. You know, like a slut.” Crap. Under the table, she pinched her wrist in an effort to keep the tears away.

“Did he say that?”

The tone in his voice held a death threat. “No,” she hurriedly said. “It’s just what I think.”

Unable to meet her brother’s eyes, she pulled the container back and peered into it to see if she’d missed any bits of brownie. They’d both hated their mother, although Logan’s hatred had been far stronger than hers. Until now. That she’d acted like the whore her mother was brought on a rage for the woman Maria had never felt before. Until the day Lovey Dovey died, she’d always held on to the hope that the time would come when her mother would look at her with something that resembled love.

“And you think that because?”

He was starting to piss her off, and she loved him for it because he enabled her to get a handle on her raging emotions. “There are some things in my life I’ll just not discuss with you, brother of mine.”

Pushing her chair back from the table, she stood and kissed his cheek. “I love you.” She left before he could grill her any further. The humiliating way she’d come apart in Jake’s arms wasn’t open for discussion. Not to mention if she told Logan that she and Jake had had wild sex and then repeated Jake’s parting words, her brother would kill him for sure. If anyone was going to kill Jake, it was going to be her.

“You’re not like Lovey Dovey. Don’t ever think you are.”

Logan’s parting call didn’t reassure her any. She was her mother’s daugh
ter, and it only made sense that some of Lovey Dovey’s bad blood had contaminated hers. The way she saw it, she could go all out and turn whore like her mother or join a nunnery.

Whatever.

Christ, he really hated that word. Jake threw back the sheet and reached down to remove the condom. It was weightless, too weightless for how hard he’d come inside Maria. He held it up and watched the last few drops of semen fall onto his knee from the tear in the prophylactic.

“Shit.” He threw it across the tent, watched as it splatted on the canvas where it stuck, mocking him with all he’d lost.

What if he’d gotten her pregnant?

Falling back onto the air mattress, he pressed an arm over his eyes. Was there no end to the lives he screwed up? There was nothing he could do to return Tennessee to the living, but he didn’t know how to deal with the guilt and the mistakes he’d made.

If only he’d stepped onto the plane when he was supposed to. Yet, if he had it to do over, knowing Maria was in danger, he’d do the same thing again. So, where did that leave him? The only safe thing would have been to return to his old life, the one where nothing but the job mattered. There had been no risk of anyone or anything diverting his attention from a mission.

And now?

Peeking under his elbow, he stared at the condom as it slid down the tent’s wall. If they’d made a baby, that changed everything. His child would have a father. After his parting words, he doubted she wanted anything to do with him anymore. Because of his crudeness toward her, he didn’t blame her. If he’d realized the condom had torn, he’d have handled it differently, but at the time, he’d done it for her. He’d wanted to make her hate him, thinking it would be easier for her that way.

If she was pregnant, he’d have a truckload of groveling to do, but he deserved that and more. Should she point to the ground and order him to beg on his knees, he’d do it. For Maria, he’d do anything she asked.

The thought that they had possibly created a child settled in his heart, surprising him by how much he wanted it. And if they hadn’t? Then she was free to find happiness with someone who deserved her. His hands clinched with the need to grind whoever that man was to nothing but pulp.

It would be at least a month before he knew, so the question was, what would he do with his time until then? What should he do about Maria? Leave her alone until he knew if she was pregnant, or apologize and try to make things right just in case?

What if she was, but didn’t tell him? Or worse, what if he’d made her hate him enough that she couldn’t bear the thought of having his kid and got rid of it? Would she do that? Somehow, he didn’t believe she would have an abortion without telling him, but he should go talk to her immediately. Make sure she understood that if she was pregnant, he had a right to know.

Jake sat up, not sure what had awakened him. That he’d fallen asleep after Maria left just went to show how damn tired he was. Of everything. He reached for a pair of shorts and slipped them on. The tent flap flew open and two hundred pounds of muscles with a badass attitude tackled him to the ground.

“You son of a bitch. I warned you.”

Jake’s first instinct was to fight back, and he got in a good hit to Kincaid’s gut, grinning in satisfaction when an
Oomph
, rasped in the air between them. Then he dropped his arms to his sides and opened himself up to the assault. He had this coming and wouldn’t fight Maria’s brother.