Jenna’s Protector (Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists: CHARLIE Team #4)

19. Carter

NINETEEN

Carter

Morning comes too soon. The first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, and dust motes dance in the air as I slowly wake from a fitful sleep. Jenna’s nightmares seem nonstop. Other than holding her through the worst of them, I’m at a loss.

I feel guilty.

If not for me, her traumatic past would’ve remained in the past, right where she locked it up and shoved it in the deepest recesses of her mind.

I’m the asshole who asked her to unpack all that darkness to help me solve a case.

Guilty is the operative word.

Fortunately, I know exactly what I can do to help out.

I slip out of bed, careful not to wake Jenna, and make my way to the kitchen. Max, my traitorous four-footed companion, stays right by Jenna’s side.

The two of them are quickly developing a tight bond, and if he can’t be bothered to get out of bed, I can’t be bothered to take him outside.

Normally, he’s my priority in the morning, but Max doesn’t seem interested in heading outside. He groans, stretches, and opens one sleepy eye as I pad out of the bedroom and head to the kitchen.

My small gesture of comfort is to make breakfast.

It doesn’t take long to familiarize myself with her kitchen, and she has everything I need to whip up a killer breakfast. Before long, the decadent aroma of coffee percolates through the air, and the sizzling goodness of bacon provides a soothing backdrop to my racing thoughts.

I’m lost in my head, trying to piece together the fragments of the case, when a prickle of awareness runs down my spine. My muscles tense, and instinct kicks in. Spinning around, my gaze locks on Jenna, standing in the hallway in her thin pajamas.

Her hair, tousled from sleep, tumbles over her shoulders, drawing my eyes to the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. Her wide eyes, soft and vulnerable, register shock at my abrupt turn, but then the brightest smile fills her face.

My lord, the woman is stunning. My heart trips and stumbles, finally picking up the beat after a moment of madness.

I take her in, drinking in her beauty. Most notably, and devasting for me, her thin pajamas fail to hide any of her curves. She’s model-thin but has curves in all the right places. Simply stunning doesn’t begin to scratch the surface of my attraction for her.

“Morning.” I point to the skillet with the bacon. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving. It smells amazing.” Her smile, a small, tentative curve of her lips, sends a jolt of electricity straight through my chest, where it hijacks my heart and settles in with an odd buzzing sensation.

She moves closer, her bare feet padding softly on the tiled floor. I turn back to the stove, flipping the bacon, trying to ignore the heat of her body so close to mine.

“Thank you.” Her hand comes to rest on my arm. “For staying last night. For being here.”

“You don’t have to…”

Her delicate arms wrap around my waist, and she gently rests her chin on the middle of my back. The fabric of her pajamas is soft, but the warmth of her body seeps through, capturing my senses and sending them on a perilous journey I may not be able to stop.

To make matters worse, her silken hair sweeps against my skin, sending tiny bursts of electricity racing down my spine. I curl my lower lip and suppress a moan.

When her hands move down to my waist, I lose the battle to remain unaffected. My body wakes with vicious hunger, eager to take, claim, and slake my thirst.

A hit of her perfume mingles with the aromas of bacon and the coffee percolating in the background, sending my senses on an adrenaline-fueled ride into dangerous territory. Her soft breaths are nothing like my ragged inhales. I’m quickly losing the ability to control my body’s responses to a beautiful woman.

I turn to face her, my breath catching in my throat. She’s so close, her eyes shimmering with something I can’t quite name.

“You don’t have to thank me.” I place my hands on her hips. “It’s the least I can do.”

We’re close.

Close like lovers.

Yet, we’ve yet to have our first kiss.

The words hang in the air between us: a promise and a plea all in one. Jenna’s gaze lifts to my lips, her tongue darting out to wet her own. The air crackles with tension, the pull between us magnetic and undeniable. My mind screams at me to be professional, growing louder and more insistent as blood rushes to engorge my cock.

Be professional.

Be professional.

Goddammit, be professional!

Jenna’s hands move up to my chest, her touch tentative and yet full of desire. She leans in close, lifting on tiptoe, her lips hovering inches from mine. I do the most natural thing and lose the battle for control over my own body.

Damn the consequences.

My hand rises to cup her head, and my fingers tangle in her hair. Jenna lets out a soft sigh, her body relaxing into mine. And then, as if we’ve done this a thousand times, our lips crash together, setting off fireworks.

The energy crackling between us ignites into a blazing firestorm that consumes any remaining doubt or reasons why I shouldn’t pursue my desires.

Her response is immediate, and while her lips are soft and pliant, fire and passion simmer below the surface. I deepen the kiss, my tongue teasing against hers as our bodies press together.

She lets out a soft moan, her fingers digging into my skin as if it’s an anchor keeping her in place. The kiss grows more urgent, becoming something unstoppable.

I pull her as close as I can, obliterating any space between us. The hard length of my erection presses against her belly, letting her know my intentions.

The kiss deepens.

It becomes wild and unhinged.

Desire courses through me like wildfire, consuming any rational thoughts or doubts. I want her; want to taste every inch of her skin and feel her body writhing under mine.

My hands roam freely over her body, exploring every curve and dip. Jenna responds eagerly to my touch, sending electrifying shocks coursing through my veins.

We break the kiss momentarily to catch our breaths, but our eyes remain locked in an intense gaze. Desire, uncertainty, but most of all, trust fill the intense green of her eyes.

“We can stop.” Stopping is the last thing I want, but I’m a gentleman first and foremost. I won’t proceed without her consent.

“Don’t stop,” Jenna whispers breathlessly against my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

She’s wanted this?

For how long?

“Me too.” I gently brush a strand of hair behind her ear and cup her cheek.

What can I say? It’s the truth.

Before I can say anything else, she pulls me down for another kiss. Our bodies move together with an urgency that is almost animalistic in nature, and it’s not long before the kiss turns fierce and hungry.

I lift Jenna onto the counter without breaking the kiss. Her legs wrap around my hips, drawing me close. The heat of her core presses against the raging hardness of my dick.

The kiss intensifies.

The kitchen fades away into background noise as we lose ourselves in each other completely. Nothing else matters except this moment—the taste of her lips, the feel of her body against mine, and the sweet smell of her arousal.

“Is this really happening?” A soft laugh escapes her. “I’m not dreaming?”

“Not a dream.” The air around us crackles and sparks as I press my body firmly against hers.

She pulls back from the kiss just enough to catch her breath, her chest heaving in rhythm with my own labored breathing. Our eyes lock in a silent exchange, speaking volumes without uttering a single word.

Confident this is what she wants, I trace the hem of her pajama top, fingers dancing underneath the buttery-smooth fabric to encounter the warm, silken texture of her bare skin.

I may have found heaven.

She shivers at the contact, goosebumps blossoming across her flesh in the wake of my exploring hands. With a deftness born of urgency and desire, I slip her top over her head to reveal her intoxicating and very bare breasts.

Her skin is warm and inviting, and I take full advantage to tease the swell of her generous breasts with my hands and then my mouth. She arches against me, thrusting her tits against my face.

Flicking my tongue over a stiffening nipple, I relish the way she begs for more.

I acquiesce, lavishing attention on her full breasts, sucking gently at one pert nipple before lathing the other with the same attention.

Sensations rocket through her body, causing her hips to undulate beneath me. As I switch back and forth between her hardened peaks, I slip a hand down her stomach, trailing my fingertips along the feminine curve of her waist and around her hip.

From there, I skim my hand along her creamy skin from her hip, along her outer thigh, and all the way to her knee, loving the feel of her skin against the roughness of my hand. Then, I move back up, along the inside of her knee, to her inner thigh, and all the way to her very core.

Her scent is intoxicating as I inch my way down her quivering form, drawing me in like a bee to honey. My lips leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses from her delicate collarbone to the dip of her navel.

Jenna’s breath becomes ragged as I tease the sensitive skin at her hip.

With a devilish grin, I swirl my fingers around the apex of her thigh, sweeping closer and closer to her core without actually touching her there.

She gasps as I lift her hips and relieve her of the constraints of her pajama bottoms. Cool air greets her damp folds, making her gasp. But that gasp is short-lived as my mouth finally finds its way to her core.

Tentatively, I graze my tongue along her swollen labia, eliciting a low moan from deep within her chest. Encouraged by her response, I delve deeper, lapping up every drop of her sweet nectar.

Her taste is exquisite, a blend of arousal and the unique essence that is purely Jenna. My hands roam her body, fingertips dancing across the softness of her skin like a maestro conducting a symphony of want and need. The crescendo builds within her as I focus my attention on her clit.

Her thighs tremble, and her moans turn to needy cries. With gentle determination, I suck on her clit, grazing it with my teeth and then soothing it with my tongue in an intoxicating rhythm that has Jenna writhing beneath me.

She’s close; I can tell by the way her breath hitches and by the way she grasps and pulls at my hair, pulling me closer.

I replace one hand at her breast, thumb circling a taut nipple while the other hand delves into her folds, slipping two fingers inside to stroke the velvety walls that clench around me. Her moans morph into a symphony of passion as she arches against me, seeking an even deeper connection.

I pick up the pace, flicking my tongue fervently while my fingers curl within her, finding that tender spot that turns her moans into cries of ecstasy. Her legs lock around me as her body tenses like a bowstring drawn tight.

Then she shatters, a wave of sensations tumbling through her as her orgasm rips through her body. Jenna’s cries of pleasure fill the room with their primal melody while she convulses around my fingers and against my mouth, riding out the intense pleasure that consumes her entirely.

I continue to worship her until the final tremors fade away. Her grip on my hair loosens. Her chest heaves as she attempts to catch her breath. A fine sheen of perspiration glistens across her skin.

Her eyes flutter open after a moment of silent recovery, finding mine filled with adoration and an undeniable hunger for more.

My heart pounds like a tribal drum because her hands are not idle. They weave into my hair, tugging with impatience and need. I stand between her legs, our bodies speaking their own language—one composed of breaths, movements, and whispers that could be words or just expressions of pleasure.

Her hands shift lower, fingers scrabbling for the waistband of my briefs. Between one moment and the next, she frees me, and all I can feel is the heat of her hands holding my very erect and very eager cock.

Her fingers trace down my turgid length, tracing the ridges of engorged veins. Her touch sends ripples of pleasure through me that pool in places yearning for her touch. Every sensation is magnified—the smooth texture of the countertop, the scent of mingled perfumes and raw passion, and most overwhelming of all, the warmth of Jenna’s hand as she strokes me toward pleasure.

Her touch is tender yet determined. Her grasp tightens, then releases, in a rhythm that echoes in my heart. Her hand moves up and down my cock, her thumb exploring the sensitive underside before curling around to circle the tip. My toes curl, and a low groan escapes me.

She’s good—very good—every stroke is a deliberate act meant to tantalize, tease, and draw out every shiver and moan from my lips.

My gaze locks on her beautiful eyes, where a mischievous glint tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing.

Her lips part, and her tongue darts out as if she’s savoring the heat between us. The only sound filling the room is my ragged breathing as her talented touch turns the steady beat of my heart into a frenzied drumbeat of desire, need, and want.

Pressure builds within me. Incrementally, yet inevitable. A crescendo of delicious agony rises within me as her fingers dance along my cock. The slow drag across my flesh, the slight twisting of her hand, and her palm pressing against my length make me acutely aware of every point where our bodies connect.

The press of her thighs around my waist, the softness of her other hand as it rests against my hip, and the drag of her fingernails drive me wild.

She guides me toward an edge I’m more than willing to fall over. With each pass of her hand, pleasure ignites until it turns into something blinding and unstoppable.

Her grip becomes more urgent, as if she knows how close I am to breaking beneath her touch. I’d stop her and fuck her, except for one important thing. I find myself shamefully lacking in the tiny foil pouch department.

The first thing on the list after this is to purchase a box of condoms because I plan on being buried balls deep within her before day’s end.

But—for right now, there is nothing beyond the hitch in her breath and the magic of her hand.

I groan out her name like a prayer. I’m close. Close to unraveling and coming apart in her more than capable hands. Another moan escapes me, along with a prickling sensation at the base of my spine.

My balls draw up with the pleasure she bestows upon me. My arms fly around her, steadying myself as my orgasm breaks and barrels down inside of me.

I crest into oblivion, a tidal wave of ecstasy crashing over and through me. White-hot cum spurts between us as my balls clench and release.

Once spent, Jenna wraps her arms around me, enveloping me in the warmth of her body. In the dizzying aftermath of my release, I float in a state of utter peace.

This moment redefines everything, ushering in the beginnings of intimacy savored without restraint. We break apart, breathing hard, our foreheads resting together.

Then, Jenna laughs.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think you’re burning the bacon.”

The acrid scent of bacon burned beyond repair hits my senses.

“Shit.”