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Seven
“It’sthe gall of him that I just can’t get over,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, when he had his accident, I couldn’t completely understand what happened, but I was old enough to get that a brain injury could change a person. It was still awful, and he deserves to be in prison for life, but…”
I ran both of my hands through my hair, unable to come up with the words to explain what I was really feeling.
Jalen found the words that I couldn’t. “But while he was in prison, states away, not reaching out to you, not present, it was easier to accept that the father you’d known wasn’t the father who’d done those horrible things.” His voice softened. “But it wasn’t him then, and it still isn’t him now. The man who raised you, who loved you, it’s not the same man.”
My eyes burned. “I know.”
He stood up and came around the table. As he knelt next to me, he took my hands in his. “You don’t owe this man anything. Don’t let what you felt for the man from your childhood make you feel like you need to love the man in prison.”
The truth of what he said took a weight off of me that I hadn’t realized I was carrying. I needed to look at the man who’d killed my mother, killed those other people, tried to kill me, as someone completely separate from my father. I needed to allow myself to be free to feel the same thing for present-day Willis Jacobe that I would have felt if he had been a neighbor, an acquaintance, a complete stranger.
It’d take some time, but at least I had a goal now.
“Thank you,” I said. I put my hands on his cheeks and leaned forward, pressing my lips against his. “I needed that.”
He smiled at me, those gorgeous eyes of his glowing. “Anytime.” He stood and held out a hand. “What do you say we go find a movie to watch and leave the clean-up until tomorrow?”
I took his hand and let him help me to my feet. I wasn’t about to go telling everyone about my past, but I had to admit that it was nice being able to talk to someone who knew it all.
And he didn’t look bad when he was listening either.
Hell, he didn’t look bad when he was doing anything, really.
We settled on the couch, and I leaned against him, content to let him decide what to watch. I wasn’t really in the mood to concentrate on anything, but I knew Jalen wouldn’t be offended if I dozed or simply let my mind drift.
I’d done a little of both for at least an hour when I found something else to focus on. Namely, the way Jalen’s thumb had been moving back and forth across my upper arm for the past quarter hour. Warmth spread across my skin, pooled low in my belly.
I’d been resting with my head on his chest, and now I slid my hand across his stomach. As I moved under his shirt, palm skimming over hard muscles, his thumb stopped moving.
“Babe?”
I pushed up his shirt and pressed my lips against his bare skin. He shifted, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me up so that we were face-to-face. He cupped my chin, and while his grip was a little too tight to be comfortable, but the moment I saw how his eyes were blazing, I didn’t care.
“If I kiss you now, will I be taking advantage of you?”
Fuck, I hoped so.
I leaned forward, but he held me in place.
“You and I are going to have a serious discussion about you thinking you’re in control here.” His voice was low, sensual. “Because we both know who’s in charge.”
“Yes, Sir.” I grabbed the front of his shirt. “Now, tell me what to do.”
He pulled me onto his lap, his mouth claiming mine even as his hands settled on my hips. I’d worn pants this evening, but I was starting to regret that particular wardrobe choice. The jeans were comfortable, but as I straddled Jalen’s lap, they put too many layers between us. I kept telling myself that we needed to work on building something between us that wasn’t sex, but my libido hadn’t gotten the message yet.
His hands slid up my sides and under my shirt. I squirmed as his palms skimmed my ribcage, and he chuckled. One hand moved to my back, holding me in place as he pulled my bottom lip into his mouth, teeth worrying at it even as I ground down on his lap, wanting to feel as much of him as I could.
I pushed my hands under his shirt again, his skin hot under my palms. Would I ever get tired of the way he felt? The way he looked? I didn’t think so. His touch made me weak in the knees, and whenever I was with him, I wanted to touch him.
It would’ve been embarrassing if I hadn’t seen other people look at him the same way I did. He was the sort of man who could take a person’s breath away, but he wasn’t only an Adonis. He had an intelligence that made him one of the top minds in the country, if not the world, and a depth that few would’ve credited him with.
But other people didn’t get to touch him. I did.
He palmed the back of my head as he broke the kiss, his fingers rubbing against my scalp as if he felt the same need I did, to get closer, to imprint the feel of my body on his fingertips. His forehead came to rest on mine, his breathing as ragged as mine.
“Fuck, Rona, what do you do to me?” His voice was a low rumble through me. “I can’t get you out of my head. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you. Thinking about touching you, about what it’s like to be inside you.”
