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He’d refrained from commenting on her clothes ever since.
And he hadn’t gone anywhere.
Despite knowing better, Lucy’s heart was opening up. Preparing to let him in.
And that scared the shit out of her.
He stopped his sexual caresses and wrapped his arms around her. Kissed her neck. “It’s okay, Lucy. Trust me with you. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
She’d heard that before. From other men. But this was Jamie. Yes, he had faults, but he wasn’t like the broody bad boys Lucy normally hung with. He was more like the boys she’d been attracted to when she’d been younger. Smart and funny with just a hint of sophistication.
He was more like the boy she’d given her heart to all those years ago.
Mason Lancaster.
Now her sister Gail’s husband.
But unlike Mason, Jamie could be trusted.
Couldn’t he?
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Okay what?”
“I—I’ll trust you?”
He smiled ruefully. “It’s not a matter of saying it, Lucy. Or, in your case, asking it. It’s a matter of proving it.”
“Then I’ll prove it to you. I’ll—I’ll try. Now will you fuck me?”
“What I’m going to do is make you come. And keep coming. And soon, when the time is right, when you finally do let me in, I’ll make love to you. And it’ll be the best you’ve ever had—because our hearts will be involved just as much as our bodies.”
She couldn’t help it. Jamie’s mention of love and hearts made her stiffen and automatically try to pull away from him. He wouldn’t let her.
He traced the hummingbird tattoo that hovered above her left breast. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “It’s okay to be scared about giving me your heart—”
“I’m not scared,” she said. “I’m horny. Are you going to follow through on your promise to make me come, or shall we call it a night?”
They stared at one another as if fighting some silent battle. Finally, he said, “I always keep my promises, Luce. And it’ll be my absolute pleasure to keep that one.” To prove his point, he covered her mouth with his even as he cupped her breast with one hand and cupped her between her legs with the other.
An hour later, Lucy lay in Jamie’s arms, dazed and exhausted by the pleasure he’d managed to wring from her even without intercourse.
She’d thought she’d been afraid before. Now she was so frightened she could barely keep it together.
Because not only had Jamie delivered on his promise to make her come in spades, but he’d managed to do exactly what he’d set out to do—crack the wall she’d built around her heart.
She liked him.
She respected him.
She enjoyed spending time with him.
And she no longer had a doubt in her mind that she could love him.
Her first instinct was to throw her clothes on and get the hell out of there. Instead, once her brain was functioning again, she stroked his chest. He couldn’t read her mind and it wasn’t like she was going to blurt out her undying love. They were in bed. She was naked. He wasn’t.
They had to do something about that.
