“I’m sorry,” Jett said softly.
I shook my head in response. No pity. I didn’t deserve it. Not after the ordeal Jenna went through, and certainly not after the events her death brought upon my family. My tears slipped between my lips. I could feel the salty tang on my tongue, drying out the cave of my mouth. My heart beat so fast it seemed as though it wanted to tear my ribcage apart. The choking sensation around my neck tightened, and yet I wasn’t going to back off from the panic attack gathering inside me.
Jett and I remained quiet for a few moments as I snuggled into his strong arms for support. His handgrip was so tight I feared he’d stop my blood circulation, but the sting was welcome. It kept my mind sane for a few more moments so I could finish what I had started. For once I was ready to share the pain and think about the consequences later.
“My mother never blamed me, but my father did,” I began slowly. “He never got over Jenna’s death.”
“Are you still in touch?”
I hesitated as I considered my answer carefully. No, we weren’t in touch. We couldn’t be. “He killed himself a few weeks later.”
“I’m sorry, Brooke,” Jett whispered into my hair. His arms tightened around me, gathering me deeper into his arms, and I let myself fall into his embrace as I tore down the last shreds of defense I had built around myself in the last twelve years.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I don’t know how we ended up in his bed. It happened so quickly that my haunted mind didn’t even register it. The sun was shining through the tall bay window, and my fingers were buried in Jett’s hair, pulling him on top of me as my mouth tugged at his lips with an urgency I had never felt before.
My tongue thrust between his lips and my fingers began to unbutton his shirt to find the hot skin beneath. His muscles were hard and tense, just like the throbbing sensation between my legs.
“Brooke.” His whisper was an unspoken question.
“It’s fine.” As though to prove my point, my right hand clasped around his neck and pulled him down harder, closing the space left between us.
“Wait.” He pulled away slightly, his eyes burning with need. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your state.”
He wasn’t a bad guy, I could feel it in my heart. Maybe it was the reason I had opened up to him about my past; why I wanted to give him everything I had, my body and mind.
“I told you, I’m fine,” I said. “This is what I need right now. Will you give it to me?”
Our eyes collided and for a moment Jett was all I could see and feel. His fingers moved to trace the contours of my lips, leaving a tingling sensation behind.
“I wish I could ease your pain forever, Brooke,” he whispered.
Yeah, I wished that, too.
My eyes swelled up with moisture. I tried to turn my head to hide my unshed tears but his hand clasped my chin, holding my gaze transfixed on his. Ever so gently he lowered his lips and kissed the corners of my eyes, then moved to my cheeks, then to my lips. Somehow his sensual and tender touch was more erotic than the passion-fuelled kiss we had just shared. His surprising gentleness stoked my arousal to a fevered pitch. I wanted him, and I wasn’t afraid to take it.
My legs wrapped around his hips and I pulled him down until his weight crushed me, almost knocking the breath out of my lungs. His stubble grated my skin as I trailed my lips along his jawline.
“Fuck me, Jett.”
I had never spoken this demand to anyone in my life. It made my cheeks blush with shame, and my nipples throb with anticipation. But I didn’t care. The pain inside me had to be stilled somehow. If only for a short while.
“I’ve never wanted anything more,” he groaned against my mouth. A moment later his lips found mine in a tortuously slow kiss. He sat up and lifted me onto his lap to remove my shirt followed by my bra. I shrugged out of my jeans and then helped him remove my panties. His fingers lingered between my thighs, rubbing gently between my folds.
“I like it when you’re so wet.” His electric eyes mirrored the desire in his voice.
He didn’t just make me wet; he made me ache for his touch. But today, I wanted to touch him back and make him feel all the sweet things he did to me.
“Take off your jeans,” I whispered, watching him as he followed my command.
Our eyes remained locked as my fingertips grazed the hard ridges of his abdomen and moved to the waistband of his shorts. Beneath them, he was already hard, the contours of his erection clearly visible under the thin material. I pulled them down his hips and watched his impressive erection jerk out. He looked even bigger in broad daylight, the slick crown engorged, ready to take me to pleasure heaven. I only needed to ask.