Page 50 of It's You
His gaze dropped to her legs again, then back to her eyes.
Too late.
That’s not what I meant, and you know it.
“Then what do you mean?”
“Well…” Her eyes swept his body, starting at his feet, following the muscled strength of his legs, lingering at the top of his legs where she saw a bulge that made her bite back a small grin before taking in the hard contours of the chest that peeked through his shirt to his neck to his face. She wet her lips as she met his eyes.
Jesus, Darcy!
“What?” she teased.
Do it again and see what happens. I dare you.
The look in his eyes sobered her. If she kept teasing him, he was going to jump on her, and she knew it. Part of her wanted that, but she didn’t want to get sidetracked again and miss an opportunity to understand him—to understandthem—better. She looked away.
“I can’t imagine it’s hard for you to find female companionship, Jack. You’re charming, you have means. You’re fun and funny and…”
She smiled into his eyes.
You make me feel safe and special and beautiful.
Maybe that’s how I am with you. Only you. Maybe there weren’t any others that mattered. Ever.
“Mathematics says it’s unlikely.”
He leaned forward and picked up his hot chocolate, blowing the steam away. “Screw mathematics. Not everything can be boiled down to neat formulas and explanations and proven theories, Darcy. There’s more in this world thatdoesn’tmake sense than does. Sometimes you have to have faith.”
She watched him, aware of the edge that had crept into his voice, but unwilling to allow it to make her back down.
“Okay. Well, then you’re not going to like my next observation. Something else has been bothering me thatdoesn’tmake sense. I think the time we spend together goes faster than normal time.”
He blew on his cocoa, then took a long sip.
“Jack? Have you noticed that too?”
He nodded.
“So it’s actually happening.”
He nodded again.
“Any idea why? Any theories? Proven or unproven?”
He looked up at her.
“We’re different. It takes a lot of energy to keep us together. It has to come from somewhere.”
Her heart twisted that he should feel so different from her just because he was Métis. She shifted closer to him until her hip nudged against his. He put his cup back down on the trunk, then took hers and did the same.
“We’re not that different, Jack. Please stop thinking that we’re so different just because of our backgrounds. We’re bothhuman beings.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, his eyes seized hers, and she perceived the fathomless, intense, deeply conflicted emotion behind them as the copper flecks brightenedbefore her, swirling and angry, turning his eyes from brown to gold. She tried to hear him, but either his mind was blank, or he was blocking her from him, because all she could hear was a roaring. A growling, guttural roaring in her head.
“Jack?” she whispered, her breath quickening with worry at his expression, his eyes, the void of roaring instead of his soft, low voice.
He lunged toward her, his lips connecting directly with hers with such force and passion that their teeth scraped together. Turned on by his urgency, she wound her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her, wanting to feel the hot weight of his body pressed against hers. He kept his hands on her face, and the gentleness with which he held her cheeks tempered the passion of his lips, which demanded and plundered greedily, sweeping her mouth with his tongue over and over again.
