Rush (Phoenix Rising) (22 page)

“Oh . . . God . . .” He breathed the words, long and slowly as if he’d never felt anything so good.

Her smile grew, her heart filled. She ached to reacquaint him with a million heavenly pleasures. She felt her way up his abdomen, brushed her fingers across his nipples. He gasped and tensed again.

She laid her cheek against the hard wall of muscle along his back. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered, the fear of his rejection restricting her throat. “Will you . . . make love to me?”

“Jessie . . .” he rasped, as if he were in pain. “I . . . don’t remember. . . .”

The fear in her stomach hardened into a rock. A surge of sadness washed in, but her determination held its ground. She lowered her hands to his abdomen and her lips to his shoulder blade.

“But you feel it. I can tell by the way you kiss me. You want me even if you don’t remember me.”

“Not that. I’ve wanted you . . . forever.” His voice shook. “I just don’t remember . . . how to . . .”

She waited and when he didn’t finish, she realized he meant he didn’t remember sex. He didn’t remember how to make love. Which made questions ping quickly through her mind—about what he’d really dreamt about—or seen—when she’d been with other men, about his contact with others at the Castle. All topics she knew would ruin the moment. All topics which were in the past and didn’t change the present.

Still, her breath caught in her throat, emotions choking her. Sadness for all he’d gone without over the years, gratitude for having the opportunity to give it all back to him. And loss. A deep, wrenching loss for the sweet, comforting, secure intimacy they’d shared.

She closed her eyes and wiped the wetness there on his skin, lowering her hands to the knot in his towel. “Let me show you?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Can I show you all the things you loved?”

He lowered his head, following the movement of her hands, his muscles so taut his entire body quivered with a fine tremble. He scraped in a shallow breath, scraped out a barely audible, “Yes.”

Anticipation flared like hot coals in her belly. Jessica held her breath, pulled the knot and released the towel. She laid her hands low on his pelvis, her fingertips brushing the fine hair leading lower. Still, Quaid didn’t move, but his breathing quickened.

She pushed up on her toes, sliding her body along his, and whispered in his ear, “Turn around.”

He straightened, released his grip on the sink and turned. Jessica wasn’t prepared for the fierce want in his taut expression or the lusty, stormy emotions in his eyes. His restraint . . . or rather what lurked behind the restraint, sent a thrill buzzing down her spine and spreading over her skin.

She moved close, pressed her hips to his, her hands to his stomach and he gripped the sink behind him again. Her heart squeezed painfully, terrified that every move he made signaled imminent rejection.

“Quaid,” she said, her gaze on the mouth she wanted to attack. “What’s wrong? You’re not acting like you want this. Not the way you wanted it before.”

“You’re . . . scared. Confused,” he said. “You didn’t feel that way before.”

A trickle of fear chilled her gut. “How do you know how I feel?”

“I . . . don’t know. I just . . . when I touch you, I feel it.” Those rich brown eyes lowered to her mouth, yearning. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. But, I understand why you are.”

“You can feel my emotions?” The thought first terrified her, then intrigued her.

“Not precisely, not intensely, but yes.”

“And others?”

“When I touch them, yes.” He hesitated, uncertainty passing through his eyes. “And . . . I can feel how I feel about them, too.”

Hope surged in Jessica’s heart. She held her breath, waiting for the next logical step in the conversation—him telling her how he felt about her. Instead, he broke their gaze, his eyes sliding to her chest.

An idea formed in her mind, one that caused both excitement and fear. She already had the man naked, and she didn’t want to waste this beautiful opportunity.

“Let me just quell any doubts you have about my feelings for you right now.”

Jessica closed her eyes, took a breath and relaxed her muscles. She dug deep inside herself, beneath all the shields and layers. While she visualized her heart opening, she slid her hands up his belly, over his chest, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her body against his. There, she relaxed into his strength, his heat. Let all her love for him, her gratefulness at having him back swell and then spill over.

Quaid moaned, sounding pained and needy, yet relieved and happy at the same time. Her emotions flowed, crisp and fresh and pure, like a swift mountain stream. They eddied and tumbled and multiplied. She let them well into her eyes. Let them overflow onto her cheeks.

Quaid growled, a very needy sexual sound, and Jessica’s body immediately responded, need throbbing low in her pelvis. Quaid leaned forward, closed his arms around her and turned his face into her neck. Then his mouth opened and his lips pressed against her skin. His arms brought their bodies into full, tight contact and his erection pressed long and hard against her lower abdomen. He moaned again and bit her neck. The sting of pain shot lust straight between her legs.

“Yes,” she whispered, holding his head to her neck, gripping his shoulder to get even closer. Her need exploded. She pushed up on her toes, rubbing her hips against his erection. This felt so rich and real and right. “Quaid, God . . .”

She grabbed his head with both hands and pulled it back, found his mouth and kissed him. He opened to her immediately, hesitation replaced by frantic need. Walking her backwards, he circled her tongue with his until she hit the wall, where he tilted his head and kissed her harder, deeper, then tilted it back, licking and sucking and kissing. She skimmed her hands down his chest, his belly and pushed him back far enough to slide her hands between their bodies and palm his erection.

Quaid’s body jerked. He swore and then a full body shiver rocked him, shoulders to toes. His intense reactions, his raspy breaths thrilled Jessica, increasing her own desire.

“Jesus Christ, Jessie . . .”

“If you like that,” she whispered, “you’ll really love this.”

She slid down his body. Quaid released her and planted his hands flat against the wall as if he needed it to hold himself up. On her knees, she darted one quick smile up at him before taking the wide head of his cock between her lips. The confusion on his face turned to instant ecstasy. His body stiffened and his eyes closed as his head fell back.

“Holy. Fuck.”
The words came from deep in his throat.

His taste flooded Jessica’s memory, filling her with joy. She took him deeply with greedy strokes of her lips and tongue. Before long, he had one hand fisted in her hair. The force of it stung her scalp and she laid her hand over his. His fingers instantly released. “Sorry, Jess, sorry,” he rasped. “That is just
so
good.”

The rock of his hips, the sounds from his throat, the shivers across his body made her own sex heavy and wet.

Quaid’s hand moved to her chin and tilted her face up to his. “I need . . . more.” His breathing came in shaky pants, his eyes barely open. “I need
you.
”

He leaned down, gripped her waist and pulled her to her feet. He panted as he pushed at the waistband of her shorts, his urgency renewed.

“Buttons, baby,” she said, reaching to unfasten them. “Hold on.”

“Fucking buttons,” he muttered, sliding his hands under her shirt and across her belly, making her quiver. His mouth found hers, hard and wet, distracting her fingers.

As soon as her zipper rasped down, his hands dove back to her shorts and shoved them over her hips. Everything after that happened in frantic flashes.

He grabbed her ass, pulled her against his erection and groaned, the sound animalistic and impatient. Jessica wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body close, holding tight. He covered her mouth again, his tongue plunging with a force that made her catch her breath. Then his hands tightened painfully and he lifted her. She broke the kiss, to breathe, to get her bearings. This was suddenly moving so fast.

“Quaid—”

She barely got his name out before her back hit the wall. Then his mouth covered hers again. She turned her head to break the kiss and draw air. Quaid’s mouth went straight to her neck.

“Quaid, baby . . .” she rasped, breathing hard, growing a little nervous.

He pushed his hand between their bodies and rubbed the head of his cock against her. Oh, God that felt good. But, she wanted to slow down. So they could both enjoy it....

“Quaid, can we—”

He pushed into her. Not fully, but her body stretched. Burned. She gasped and tensed.

Quaid’s teeth closed on her shoulder and he growled low in his throat, a very male sound of extreme pleasure that shot lust into her blood. But her body was still adjusting. Only Quaid didn’t give it time. He moved his hand back to her ass and used those powerful arms to pull her into him. Too fast. Too deep.

Pain sliced through her pelvis. Burned along her walls. She squeezed her eyes closed as her nails dug into Quaid’s shoulders and she tightened her legs around his hips. A sound of pain slid up her throat.

His shaft pulled back and apprehension coiled in Jessica’s chest. “Quaid . . . baby, wait a second. . . .”

But it was too late. He’d felt sex for the first time—at least in his memory—and he was gone. He didn’t even pause before thrusting deeply into her. Jessica gritted her teeth, circled her arms at his neck and held on. He simultaneously pushed into her body while pulling her hips toward his, the result driving him deep on every plunge and slamming her upper back against the concrete wall.

“God, Jessie . . .”

He didn’t choke out any more, but she didn’t need any more. He knew he was with her. He knew she was giving him this pleasure. These memories would stay with him.

His thrusts came faster, harder. Jessica turned her face into his neck to smother the sounds she couldn’t hold back. Slid one hand up and over his head to hold tight. She tried to stay focused—this was her husband, he wanted her, it was a start. But the leak of tears from her eyes gave away all those underlying emotions she didn’t want to acknowledge.

His climax rocked him hard, and he continued to shiver for long moments after while he stayed there, inside her, holding her, his mouth pressing kisses to her shoulder.

She tried every trick she knew to stop the tears. He wouldn’t understand. She didn’t even fully understand. But even though she didn’t clearly remember any of her sexual encounters after Quaid had died, this held far too much familiarity for comfort.

“Jess?” His voice pulled her from the uneasy memories. She turned her head on his shoulder, which he took as indication she was listening and went on. “I’m . . . um . . .”

He rocked his hips, moving inside her and making her catch her breath. He was still hard . . . or hard again . . . she didn’t know which. But she was sure he was going to ask for round two, which she wouldn’t deny him, but nor did she want right at the moment.

“If you tell me how to move or touch you, I can still do something for you.” He turned his head and kissed that sensitive spot beneath her ear. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

She smiled at the sweetness of the offer, even while experiencing the pinch of disappointment. “Thank you, babe.” She kissed his jaw. “But, no. I’m . . . a little sore.”

His breath hissed out through his teeth. “I’m sorry.”

The regret in his voice made her lift her head and look into his eyes. They were sated, the fire banked to a glowing ember now, and guilt had taken up space in the foreground. She spread her hands on either side of his head and kissed him. “Don’t be. I’ll be eating up all that passion and power soon. It’s just been a while. My body’s adjusting.”

It took about two full seconds for Jessica to realize what she’d said,
“It’s just been a while.”
And what doors it might have opened in Quaid’s mind, because he continued to stare at her as if he was thinking very hard.

So she kissed him again, relieved to find that just like every other red-blooded man, his mind could be sidetracked with a slow, tongue-sliding kiss.

They dressed in silence. Not as much awkward silence as distracted silence. While her mind acted like the cheerleader, tossing out positive, optimistic messages, her body was the leather-clad rebel still looking for relief, her heart the wallflower still aching for connection.

When she turned for the door, she didn’t understand how the emptiness inside her could have expanded. Or how she could be even more confused. Or how her hope could have taken on an even heavier tarnish.

She pulled the door open, but Quaid put his hand flat above her head and closed it again. His other arm slipped around her waist and he pulled her back against him gently. He nudged her hair out of the way with his chin and pressed his mouth to her neck.

Jessica closed her eyes. Tears burned and leaked over her lashes.

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin. “I don’t know how. I don’t understand what it means. I don’t even know if I can live up to what it involves or give you what you need or if I’m what you want anymore. . . .”

He paused, kissing her again. Jessica waited, sensing he wasn’t done, tears now flowing down her cheeks. Her heart seemed to be mending in some ways and breaking in others. None of which she understood.

“But I feel it, Jess.” The tip of his nose traced a path from her neck to her shoulder, where he planted another gentle kiss. “And I know I’ve loved you a long time.”

Chest swelling with emotion, she turned and wrapped her arms around him. She pressed her face to his neck. “I love you more.”

When she pulled away, he lifted her face with one hand and used his T-shirt to wipe her tears with the other. “Kai will probably take a hammer to my knuckles if he thinks I made you cry.”