Page 64 of Jagged Line Paradise

“I’m sorry, sunshine,” I tell her quietly and she slowly opens her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re destroying me,” she whispers, tears still dripping down her pink cheeks.

Her eyes find mine, but I can’t hold her gaze. Her eyes dart around with hectic disconnect, flickering from my eyes to my hair to my lips. When her olive irises finally settle and narrow intently on my mouth, I loosen my grip on her cheeks. I take a deep breath, open my mouth to tell her again that I’m sorry, but I never get the chance.

She swallows my apology with a kiss.

Chapter 17

Avalon

I’MOVERWHELMED ANDfrantic, an emotional hurricane that can’t be stopped. The storm took hold of me in front of Mack’s house and didn’t let go until I opened my eyes on Andrés’ lap. And when I opened them, he was all I could see. He’s the beacon of light I race toward.

I know generally how I got here, inside his rental SUV, on his lap, but it feels like a blur. It feels like a nightmare I just awoke from and the memory of fear that gripped me in that moment still clings to me, demanding comfort.

He’s all I have to cling to for comfort.

He was the only comfort I ever had, though I haven’t had him for ten years.

When our lips collide, a tidal wave of need crashes over me. It’s the tidal wave I was expecting tonight—the one that takes me out of my mind and lets me live in the world of sensation. But I never expected it from Andrés; I expected it from the clients Mack scheduled for me. When I was so close to having it and Andrés ripped it away from me inside Mack’s house, I lost my mind.

But this…this fevered kiss with him is so much better.

His hands slip along my cheeks, fingers combing into my hair at the back of my head. He holds me in place as his tongue pushes against my lips. I moan into his mouth as my lips part for him, and he groans when he finds my tongue eager to dance. His fingers dig into my scalp and I want more of that—more of that desperation from him.

I want to feel needed.

I want to feel appreciated.

I want to feel worthy.

I want to feel loved...even if I’m not.

His tongue is so heavy and insistent as it explores my mouth. It makes me shiver to think of how much I want to feel his tongue everywhere…everywhere.

I need to be closer. I need to feel his body against mine. I struggle in the small space but manage to turn, straddling my legs over his and pressing in as closely as I can. One of his hands drops to the small of my back as I maneuver, and he breaks from our kiss to nip with heated breaths along my jawline.

I sink into him, wrapping my arms around his neck, holding myself against his body. I sit heavily on his lap and my hips rock of their own accord, grinding over his cock and feeling such relief that he’s already hard. I need him inside me.

I need it now.

“I need you,” I tell him as he licks and sucks a spot just behind my ear. I whimper as he draws heat and tension straight to my core.

His hand slips from the small of my back, dropping lower, cupping and squeezing my bottom, pulling me close. I gasp at the sensation of his large hand grabbing me so intently. I need those hands all over me.

I grab hold of his necktie, working with shaking hands to undo the knot. “I hate this,” I tell him. “I hate this stupid tie, your stupid suit. It’s notyou.”

His hands hold me molded against him as he leans forward, tilting me back. The hand on my head lowers, fists my hair at the base of my neck, and draws my head back. My chin raises and my throat is exposed to him. I look down at him beneath my lashes and feel the rush as he looks up at me with heat and darkness overpowering his eyes.

“You don’t hate it, sunshine. You just hate that it reminds you that I left.” He bends and kisses my bare throat, tugging a little harder on my hair to keep my face angled upward.

I become breath and heat as wetness flows between my legs. I’ve been chasing this high—this complete carnal consumption—for years on the laps of strangers. His lips follow the curve of my neck, all the way up to my jaw and back down. He buries his face in the curve that draws down to my shoulder, and I yelp when his teeth clamp down. I go rigid in his hold as his wide tongue slips out to soothe the ache.

“I want to hurt you,” he growls. “I want to use you. I want to make you hurt like you make me hurt.”

“You always hurt me,” I whisper, rocking my hips, grinding down on his cock as he licks his way across my skin. “How would that be any different?”

“Because you’ll beg me to hurt you more once I stop.” He snatches my wrists from around his neck and yanks them away with a jarring snap, bringing them together between our bodies, holding them firmly. “Do you really want this?”

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