Page 62 of Fight from the Heart

Quickly, he releases me, looking down at himself, stiff and ready, begging for attention. “I need to come.” He’s so direct, so insistent. His fist circles himself, and he squeezes. His eyes close as he leans over me, his other hand braced near my head. He strokes himself while I watch. It’s incredibly exciting, and I resist the urge to assist him. Instead, I slip around to his back, rubbing my hands up and down his back, leaning forward to along his spine as he takes himself in hand.

“Jesus,” he hisses, building a rapid pace, arm struggling as he tugs and he taunts. My fingers tickle over his skin, lowering down his back and flattening over the fine globes of his backside. He nearly whimpers before groaning, and I sense what’s happened to him. With head lowered to the arm bracing him, his back shudders, and then he spins.

His mouth crashes mine again, fighting me, telling me he wants to give me more. He pulls back, moving to my neck, sucking at my skin to mark me. I groan.

“Let me at least touch you.” I shake my head despite the desire, despite the need in me to release as he did.

“I miss how we fit,” he says with a strained voice. He looks down at my thighs, staring hungrily at them. “I love how you respond to me.”

“I . . .” I can hardly find the words. I’m a fool for this man, and I tell myself this over and over again while melting under what his gaze and the touch of his hand lowering down my body again. He’s not the least repentant that he drags a fingertip over my breast and across my nipple, crossing the line.

“You’re my inspiration. You’re the woodland nymph and the fresh floral scent. You’re my angel and my salvation.” Hesitantly, he reaches for me, even though I’ve told him no.

“It’s not fair,” I whisper, but he shakes his head.

“A fight never is.” His fingers slip between my legs, and I moan at the relief of his hands on me there. His thumb meets the sensitive nub as his fingers push into me. Sliding in and out, he works me like his keyword, typing away at pretty phrases.

“You’re all I want and don’t deserve, and I can’t let you go.” He’s writing words against my skin with the mastery of his fingers, and I quickly come apart, clutching at his forearm.

“You’re it, Lilac,” he says just below my ear, muttering into my skin. He can’t mean it. He’s just wrapped up in adrenaline, the drug of winning, and me breaking under him. His voice softens as his fingers remove from me and his palm flattens on my belly once again.

“This is it, angel. The monster demands a mate.”

Chapter 23

Wind Knocked Out

[Pam]

After we exit the shower, Jacob slips into bed behind me. It’s our final night in New York and my thoughts bounce all over the place. What we’ve done. What he’s said. Where will we go next? He curls me into him and murmurs final words to me.

“I feel so alive with you, Lilac. I’m becoming addicted to that feeling.”

I smile to myself, stroking over his arm around my waist. He tightens his hold on me, pressing soft kisses at the nape of my neck.

“Heaven,” he whispers as he inhales and quickly slips into sleep. However, I lay awake for a long time, wound up from his touch and his words. I want to believe all he says. I want it so much it almost hurts. I’d no longer be the one without a partner at my side. I’d no longer be the token single woman. I’d no longer be holding all these feelings inside me, but I can’t say Jacob’s committing to being more.

In the morning, I wake alone but not surprised. Our flight leaves midmorning, and we need to pack. Ethan and Ella are on our flight, and we’re a mixture of chatter and laughter as we exit into Jacob’s hallway. He’s holding my hand, not shy before his sister and her boyfriend. He even kissed me openly, in front of them, when I came down the stairs. My cheeks flamed, but it was so nice to be recognized by him before them. He was making a statement.

I’m his.

But as we near the elevator, the doors open, and a woman growing all too familiar steps out.

“Now what?” Ella mutters as we each stand still with our suitcases.

“We’re just leaving,” Jacob snaps, holding his eyes forward as he nods for all us to enter the elevator. He’s still holding my hand, clutching at it.

“I need to talk to you,” Mandi says, her voice low, almost broken. She looks different this morning, younger without layers of makeup, and her dark hair pulled up into a ponytail. Ethan takes my suitcase from under my hand and enters the elevator. His hand holds the door open, and I step forward, still holding Jacob's hand. His hold tightens on my fingers.

“This can’t wait, Jakey,” she says, and I cringe at the nickname. Jacob looks equally put off by it and takes a step forward, but her hand settles on his forearm. Time seems to stand still as Jacob stops. “Jacob, don’t make me say this in front of them.”

Her eyes peer upward, devoid of emotion. While Jacob stares at Mandi, I observe him, his body tense, his eyes bright. He next glances at Ethan, something transpiring quickly between them.

“I’m not doing this anymore with you, Mandi.” Jacob turns to move away from her, his arm dropping, so she releases him. We both step forward, almost crossing the elevator entrance when Mandi speaks.

“I’m pregnant.”

Our hands drop as Jacob spins to face Mandi.