His hand dipped into her jacket pocket and withdrew her keys. Before she could protest, he unlocked the truck and opened the passenger side door.
“I’ll drive,” she said, but he lifted her into the seat.
“I have to drive, Jillian.”
“Why?”
His low, throaty growl triggered another rush of wetness. “Because if my hands aren’t on the wheel, they’ll be on you.”
She damned near moaned. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“It is when you’re driving.” He tugged the seat belt across her, and as he clicked it into place, he pressed a hot, velvet kiss to her throat.
“I can pull over,” she squeaked.
His nostrils flared, and she swore she saw flames in his eyes. “I’m on the very edge right now.” His voice throbbed with raw lust. “I want you under me. I want to claim you, get myself all over you. And as much as I’d love to mount you right here in public, right now—and I think in my past, I would have—I never want anyone to see you like that but me.”
Oh, damn. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. She wanted it now, and who cared who saw or heard what. “I’ll park somewhere dark.” She fisted his T-shirt, not even ashamed of her desperation. “Out of the way —”
“Tempting… so… fucking… tempting.” He gently peeled her hand away, slammed the door, and got in on the driver’s side. Then he turned to her, the harsh planes of his face in the shadows creating a savage expression that stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “I need you in bed tonight, Jillian. I need more than a fuck. I need to make love to you until neither one of us can move, because after tonight, I don’t want there to be even the slightest doubt that you’re mine.”
Eighteen
God, Reseph was lit up. Lit like a torch, burning so hot he was afraid he’d melt the steering wheel as he whipped Jillian’s pickup into the driveway. The drive had been silent, tense, the air in the cab so charged with sex that he felt it on his skin, as if a single touch could put him over the edge.
If Jillian’s spicy scent was any indication, she felt the same way. Her arousal had been powerful enough that twice he damned near pulled the truck over and did exactly what he’d said he wouldn’t do.
Thank God they were at her place. He slammed the truck into park and was out in a flash. Before Jillian could even get fully out of her seat, he had her in his arms and was carrying her through the front door. He kissed her as he kicked the door shut, his heart going mad with want. He needed her like he needed air, and until he had her under him, her arms and legs holding him tight, he felt like he might suffocate.
He laid her on the bed a lot less roughly than he could have—would have, if this had been any other night. But he’d experienced a shift today, a one-two punch of reality and emotion. He’d faced the fact that he wasn’t going to find out who he was, and the Amnesia Boy bullshit had driven that home. It was time to stop worrying about the past and make new memories.
With Jillian.
Jillian, who had saved his life, taken care of him, made him laugh, given him an anchor when he should have been drifting.
Reseph stripped off his shirt and joined her on the bed, and when she sat up to meet him, he pushed her back down and covered her body with his. Their gazes locked, and Reseph’s pulse thundered in his ears. When Jillian’s palm came up to his chest, the heat of her touch spread through him, sizzling over his skin.
Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her, somehow taking it slow and leisurely, as if they weren’t both ready to go into orbit. He undressed her, breaking off the kiss only when he pulled off her shirt or shoved down her jeans. When they were both naked, skin on skin, he kept his hands to rated PG parts of her body, stroking her shoulders, her neck, her arms.
She didn’t play like that. No, Jillian’s nails scored his back before dropping to his ass, where she dug her fingers into his cheeks as she rocked against him, grinding her mound against his erection. They both groaned at that, but he wasn’t ready yet.
Well, he was ready physically, but not mentally. He needed to be thorough, attentive, possessive.
Jillian was his, and she was going to know it when he was done.
Tangling his fingers in her hair, he let his other hand drift up her rib cage. He stroked the curve of her breast, feeling the skin tighten beneath his palm. His thumb circled her nipple, and the impassioned whimper breaking from her throat said she liked it.
“I need you to believe me,” he murmured against her lips, “trust me when I say that I’ve never made love to a woman. Not like this.” The knowledge was soul-deep, not even a question, and he needed Jillian to understand.
“I believe you. And I’ve never had a man make me feel so special.” She arched under him, hooking one ankle over his leg and rubbing her foot seductively along his calf.
He looked into her eyes, determined to make sure she understood what he was about to say. “You’re more than special. I love you, Jillian. I love you, and I want this to be the start of something new.”
Her foot stilled on his leg. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I don’t care who or what I was in the past.” The vision he’d had in the barn tunneled up from where he’d buried it in his mind, but he ruthlessly slammed it back into its dark hole. Whatever he’d been before had no place in his new life. “I don’t want to know anymore. I’m going to stop looking.”
Both hands came up to frame his face. “Oh, Reseph, I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask.” He rubbed his cheek against her palm, thinking he’d never felt anything so soft as her skin. “I’m doing it. I love this life, I love you, and I want to start our lives together now.”
“You’re… serious.”
“Can you handle not knowing who I was?” He nipped the sensitive skin between her thumb and forefinger before laving it with his tongue. “Can you deal with the man I am now?”
“Yes,” she whispered in a husky rasp. “Oh, yes.”
“Good,” he said, lowering his mouth to her throat. “Because the man I am now is who I want to be. Forever.”
At Reseph’s admission, Jillian’s heart thundered against what remained of the wall that surrounded it. Since the day Reseph had arrived, the wall had been cracking, and each passing day saw the fissures deepen. Now this wonderful man had committed himself to her, leaving behind his past and making her his future. No man had ever given up anything for her, and as her heartbeat knocked down the last shard of barrier that stood between her and surrender, she thanked her good fortune.
Before Reseph, the independent woman in her would have railed against any man telling her she was his, but with him it seemed natural, respectful.
And oh, so sexy.
And speaking of sexy, Reseph concentrated kisses on her throat, each one moving a fraction of an inch lower, his lips following her jugular to the base of her neck. Desire spiraled through her, growing more and more out of control with every passing second. Yet Reseph still wasn’t touching her where she needed to be touched.
The man was a sadist. A master of torture. His erection sat heavily against her sex, but no matter how much she writhed, he didn’t make a move to enter her. She ached, burned,
“So impatient,” he murmured against her clavicle.
“I’m not
His husky chuckle accompanied his hand dipping between her legs and finding her slick wetness. “Oh, yeah, you’re ready.” His lips trailed over the mound of her breast, and his tongue came out to taste her nipple. “I love how
