Page 88 of Guarded from Corruption

“It was good.” I shift to face him. “I’m a little tired, but it was… really nice. To see how much everyone cared.”

“They do.”

I snuggle back into Niall’s side, feeling significantly less fractured than I did when I woke up this morning. Not healed; that’s going to take time. But I know it’ll happen.

Niall strokes my face and gazes at me with so much love in his eyes. “You’re incredible, Jade. I know I say it all the time, but it’s true.”

“You are too.”

“And…” His lips twitch. “You’re really going to think I’m awesome when you see the snacks I made this time.”

“Oh?”

He waves his hand at the freshly replenished platter, and I can’t help laughing. There’s a heart made out of pickles rolled up in slices of ham. And in the center, a stack of my favorite cookies all made in the shape of hearts.

I snort. “Niall. You hate those things. I see your face every time I make one.”

“Nope.” He snags a pickle-ham roll-up, then pops it into his mouth and almost manages to hide his wince. “Delicious.”

My chest fills with happiness.

Everything is going to be okay.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

NIALL

The last thing I’m expecting when I get out of the shower is to find Jade splayed out on the bed, completely naked.

Not even the smallest scraps of lingerie, just a tempting expanse of creamy skin.

Her hair spills around her shoulders and a few long tendrils drape across her breasts, one of them curving around a rosy nipple.

A satisfied smirk curves her lips, but her cheeks are just pink enough to tell me she’s a little nervous.

She’s propped up on her elbows, which makes her small breasts jut out in an invitation to taste them.

The necklace I gave Jade—a simple pendant with our initials entwined—hangs just in the dip of her cleavage.

Oh. My.

The arousal I’d dealt with in the shower springs to life again.

“Niall,” she breathes in this sultry voice I’ve never heard before. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Me too, my body agrees. But my brain is the more reasonable voice here.

Even as I move across the room toward her—a magnet compelled to find its complement—I ask, “Are you sure? We talked about taking things slow. I don’t want to?—”

“We did take things slow.” Her sky blue eyes meet mine. “But I want this. I need this.”

Indecision sweeps over me. It’s only been a week since everything went down with Jade’s father, and she’s been dealing with a lot since then. A resurgence of nightmares. Some flashbacks. And the most heartbreaking—when her control slips and I find her crying quietly in the bedroom because she doesn’t want to worry me.

Yes, Jade is one of the strongest women I’ve met. But she’s still fragile right now, and I don’t want to do anything to trigger her.

Still. Who am I to dictate what Jade wants? What she gets?

“Are you sure?”

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