Page 51 of It's You
One of his hands slid languidly down the contours of her jaw, taking his time to feel her, explore her, sliding to the pulse point on her neck where his fingers rested for a moment before sweeping lower and pushing the bathrobe aside to cup his hand over her bare breast. The sensation was so searing, hot, and exciting. Darcy arched up against him, moaning into his mouth, and his kiss intensified as he gently pinched her already-firm nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She cried out with the sweet sharpness of his attentions.
He abandoned her lips, kissing a trail of heat from her mouth to her jaw, then down her neck. He leaned back, untying the cord at Darcy’s waist, and pushed the sides of his bathrobe away from her breasts.
She watched his eyes devour her breasts before he met her eyes with hunger and deep emotion.
Darcy. You’re so beautiful, it hurts me to look at you. Just like it did then.
He was referring to himself in high school. And even though she had already figured it out, the sweetness of their connection, the long-unrequited thirst finally quenched in his company, made tears fill her eyes, and they fluttered closed as she reached up to thread her hands through his thick, black hair, drawing his head down to her breasts. She felt the heat of his mouth, the slick wet fire of his tongue on her nipple as his hand covered her other breast. She threw her head back, small sounds of pleasure escaping her lips. He moved his lips to her other breast, but she was so surprised by the sudden, sharp tug of his teeth on her nipple that her knee reflexively shot up, accidentally connecting with his groin. Her eyes flew open as he cried out in pain, rolling off her and falling onto the floor.
Darcy sat up, disoriented at first, pulling the robe around her. She found him on his back, staring up at the ceiling with both hands covering his groin.
“Oh my god! Oh my god, Jack. I hurt you!”
Darcy scrambled off the couch to kneel beside his head, cringing at his red face and the tear that rolled from his eye into his hairline.
“Jack!” She used her thumb to gently swipe another tear away, cringing as she watched him try to take a deep breath and fail.
“Ooooo-uh,” he groaned, swallowing deliberately. She watched his throat bob slowly as his eyes closed and reopened in pain.
“Are you okay?” she asked in a small, embarrassed, deeply sorry voice.
“Gimme a sec, Darce. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Do you…do you need ice? Or something?”
He moved his hands, bracing himself to sit up.
“How about a massage?” he quipped.
“Would that…help?” she asked timidly to his back.
“I’m kidding.” He leaned back on his arms, his legs spread out in front of him. His voice was low and still a little strangled and breathy. “No. I take that back. If you’re offering, I’ll take a rain check.”
Darcy felt like such a complete and total idiot. Frustrated tears filled her eyes, and she sat back on the edge of the couch while he stayed seated on the floor. She didn’t know what to do. She had hurt him, and more, she had ruined their beautiful moment together. Part of her felt like she should find his dryer, put on her clothes, and leave.
He struggled to his knees, then shifted back to the edge of the couch, a couple of feet away from her.
She couldn’t bear to look at him.
“Darcy?”
She knew if she spoke, the tears would fall.
“Darcy, I’ll be fine in a few minutes. Wasn’t even the worst shot I’ve ever taken to the nuts. Not by a long shot. Just…unexpected. Hey, what’s going on?”
She swiped at her eyes. “I should go.”
His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. “No.”
This only made her tears fall faster.
“Don’t go. It was just an accident.”
She slid next to him.
“I’m so sorry.” She sobbed, all the confusion and frustration and the intensity of her feelings for this man bursting and drizzling down her face in a wet, pathetic mess.
He groaned as he put his arms around her waist and sat back against the couch, pulling her up against his side and kissing the top of her head. “No, baby. Please don’t cry.”
