Page 46 of Strider's Misstep

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

JASMINE

Strider’s been saying things that I’ve so often dreamed about hearing. After the last few months, when I tried to get him out of my mind by reminding myself he was committed to somebody else and always would be in this world and the next, I couldn’t let down my guard and let myself believe him.

When I left him, I hurt so damn badly I thought my heart would never mend. The only men I’d had any time for were the ones who existed in my head and who I painted onto the canvas of my novels. He’s spoiled me for anyone else, but I’d hoped in time I would forget him, and be able to move on.

If it hadn’t been for Barclay and today’s violence, I wouldn’t have weakened and let myself come back with him. For a moment, I must have lost my damn senses when I pushed him to let me ride on his bike. If I hadn’t known the story of the accident he’d previously had, I’d have been surprised at how carefully he was riding. Even though we hadn’t gone fast, I’d loved every minute. I’d felt I was dreaming, flying down the road with my hands wrapped around his waist.

Everything he’s done, everything he’s said since the moment he came back into my life, has been exactly what I’ve alwayshoped to hear. But it would destroy me if I was being optimistic for no reason.

I thought if I could reduce this to a simple fuck, it would give him a way out without the organ that keeps my blood flowing around my body being shattered for good.

He said he wants me to be his old lady and his wife.Oh, how I wish I could believe him. For some reason I can’t, even though he’s said all the right things, and by God, the way he’s touching me now, caressing me with his touches and cajoling me with his words. I want to trust him, but I must stay detached to protect myself.

But oh, it’s so hard.

When he asks me to call him his government name, I refuse. It’s an intimate step too far.

Then, as his hands finally, but slowly, unclasp my bra, he weighs my breasts in his palms, for a moment just staring at them as though he’d never seen them before. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasps before reapplying his attention to the nipples he already knows are sensitive as hell. The way he’s pinching, sucking, and licking makes me wonder if I could orgasm from just his touch there.

Wetness rushes through me, and my clit throbs. I try to rub my thighs together in order to ease the ache. He chuckles,the bastard. He knows exactly how he’s winding me up.

Straightening, he moves his lips away from my breasts and settles them on my mouth. His tongue demands entry, and I can’t resist. I’ve so missed his taste. There’s no other word to describe what he’s doing other than to say he’s devouring me. I can’t pull away. I’m no unwilling participant and I give it my all. Tongues duel, teeth clash, and I know my lips will be bruised in the morning. My nostrils are full of a perfume that’s uniquely his, and my body responds as though my brain has nothing to do with it. There’s a rumbling coming from his chest, and whenhe starts to pull back, I grasp him to me, unable to get enough of him.

He chuckles and then gives me what I want, coming in to kiss me some more.

Of its own volition, my left leg rises off the floor and bends to wrap around his lower limbs, pulling him closer, then shamelessly, I’m trying to rub myself against him.

Again, his mouth leaves mine, but only enough to whisper gruffly, “If we keep on like this, then I’m going to come in my pants like a teenage boy.”

At least I’m not alone in my suffering. “Guess we both better get naked then,” I suggest.

“Always knew you were smart,” he replies, the mirth discernible in his voice. “I, er, kind of need to let you go for that.”

Taking his point, I reluctantly return my foot to the floor and ease away from him. But when I go to unzip my jeans, his hands are already there. And when he’s got them undone, he lowers both my pants, panties, and himself to the floor, leaning forward so his face is right in my crotch, and then he inhales.

“Fuckin’ best scent in the world,” he states, as if to himself.

My jeans are around my ankles, making it difficult for me to move, and his proximity to my nether regions is no help at all to my state of arousal. He seems to be enjoying himself, breathing me in once more.

“Strider,” I whine. He’s not the only one wanting to relearn what we’d enjoyed so many times before. I want to see if his cock is just as good as I remember.

He pauses, then huffs a breath making my clit twitch. I’m so fucking close and he’s barely touched me at all. “What did I tell you to call me?”

“Strider, please. Can we just fuck?”

He chuckles, the vibration all but setting me off. “Not going to fuck you. We’re going to make love.”

“I don’t care what you call it,” I cry out. “Just take me now.”

“Ask me.”

“Strider…”

He makes a grunt of disapproval and touches meright there.

Oh, Jesus, help me, but I can’t prevent his name escaping my mouth in a half-scream. “Colt.”

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