Wilde Nights in Paradise (Wilde Security #1)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Libby opened her mouth, but after that whopper of a confession, one he hadn’t meant to make, he couldn’t stay to hear whatever pity she was about to lay on him. He strode into the bedroom, needing space from her, but finding the room resonated with her essence. The faint hint of vanilla in the air from her perfume, her nightshirt folded so neatly on the end of the made bed. Even as miserable as he felt, he had to smile. Meticulous even when she’d been feeling blue—she was his opposite in almost every way. In the rare occasions when he got mopey, his apartment usually suffered for it.

Jude sat on the edge of the bed and cradled his head in his hands. Part of him wanted to hate Libby for dragging him through the muck of the past. He never let himself think about that night but, he supposed, he’d never managed to leave it behind him, either. It colored everything he’d ever done in his life. And, hell, to this day he couldn’t watch Jurassic Park without bawling like a baby.

Maybe it was time to face it.

The door opened a crack, and Libby peeked into the dim room, the light from the hallway creating a halo effect around her golden hair. After a moment of indecision, she came inside, shut the door, and moved to stand in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Fuck. Who knew two little words could pack such a punch? Appalled that his vision had gone blurry, he snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her toward him, burying his face in the soft fabric of her T-shirt over her belly.

“I shouldn’t have asked.” Her fingers sifted through his hair, trailed down the back of his neck and spine. Pleasurable goose bumps swept over his skin.

Her name left his lips on a groan, and as he tilted his face up, her lips descended on his. He parted his knees, inviting her to step into him, wanting her closer, needing her closer. Funny how just a moment ago, he’d thought he needed some time alone, but he’d been so ridiculously wrong about that. He didn’t need space. All he needed was her. He had a sinking feeling that she was all he’d ever need. She was definitely all he’d ever wanted, but he’d learned long ago that yearning for something he would never be able to have was pointless. All they had was this fling. This night. Possibly tomorrow night, but that was no guarantee. His brothers could capture K-Bar at any moment, and then this would all be over. He had to take what he could get now.

No emotions.

He could do that. He’d done it most of his life.

As their mouths fused together in a slow burn of passion, his hands dipped under her shirt and caressed the skin of her back. She sighed into his mouth, then pulled away long enough to whisk her shirt over her head. Standing, he unbuttoned his jeans, but couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Undressing her held a lot more appeal anyway, and he skimmed her shorts down her legs, trailing his lips along all the golden skin he found on the way. Her fingers dug into his scalp, and he felt the tug on his hair all the way to the tip of his cock. Man, he loved it when she did that.

No emotions.

In a burst of movement, he cupped her lovely, lace-covered ass, scooped her up until her legs wound around his waist, and switched their positions, laying her gently on the bed. He lowered himself on top of her, loving the way everything soft on her body yielded to everything hard on his. And the way she smiled up at him like she had a secret she was about to divulge. And the way her glasses sat slightly crooked on her nose, knocked askew by him, and how she didn’t give a shit.

Jude lifted her glasses off and folded them carefully on the nightstand. Turning her head on the pillow, she reached out to help, but he caught her hand and nuzzled the exposed column of her neck.

No emotions.

A hum of pleasure vibrated her throat under his lips, and his body reacted as if she had zapped him, every nerve ending firing at the same moment. He reclaimed her mouth, and his senses filled to capacity with her taste, her vanilla scent, her soft skin, the sound of her breathing, the beat of her heart…

No emotions?

Yeah, right.

…

Something was different about Jude tonight. He took his time, drawing every kiss, every caress out until every inch of her skin flushed hot and every breath came out as a sigh or a moan. This wasn’t the fast, hard, bed-rocking sex she’d had with him in the past, but something else entirely. Something gentle and pure and genuine.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was making love to her.

With a sigh, she opened herself to him, taking him deep into her body—and, she feared, her heart. But she wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t let herself feel anything but the pleasure of this moment. She shut her eyes, focused only on the sensations of their joining, but he stopped moving, and his fingers trailed along her cheek. He cupped a hand around the back of her neck and lifted her toward him, his lips sealing over hers with such possessiveness that her eyes popped open in surprise. He stared right back at her, every wild, passionate, insane emotion she was trying so hard not to feel reflected in his gaze.

Heart in her throat, she tightened her legs around his hips and pushed herself up with her arms. He relented easily, laying back and letting her take control. His hands slid upward from her waist, released the clasp of her bra, and skimmed the straps off her shoulders. He traced the fullness of each breast as the bra fell away, then smoothed his fingers down her arms until they found her hands. He pressed their palms together, his fingers twice as big and deeply tanned, hers smaller and only a few sun-kissed shades lighter. Smiling slightly, he twined their fingers together. Somehow, that tender joining was even more intimate than the one at their hips, and emotion thickened in her throat.

Did she dare take the risk of loving him again?

Really, did she even have a choice?

She wouldn’t think about it. Not tonight. She’d just feel. Enjoy. And pretend he didn’t already hold her still-fragile heart in his hands.