Over the years, he’d cringed every time he heard from Grady that Hope was seeing someone. Jealousy nearly ate him alive every time he saw her, knowing another man was touching her. But he’d coped with it by working and fucking other women; he hoped that eventually that niggling fear that she’d end up permanently taken by another man would pass.
It hadn’t. His craze to possess her had just gotten stronger, deeper.
And now he was in Hell.
If this mania had been for any other woman except Hope, he would have seduced the female a long time ago, tried to fuck her out of his system. Problem was, it was Hope, and he’d known her almost as long as he could remember. So he was utterly and irrevocably screwed at the moment. Not only did he want to fuck her worse than he wanted to breathe, but he actually liked her. Hope was one of the sweetest females he’d ever known, and her big heart was genuine.
She wants me, too.
Her body had responded to him, and that made him even crazier. That the sexual chemistry burned hot both ways made it almost impossible for him not to touch her.
“Thanks for taking me to the fireworks.”
Hope’s voice interrupted Jason’s lustful thoughts. After they’d left Grady’s party, they’d driven down to the beach and had watched the fireworks from his rental car. They held hands like teenagers because he couldn’t seem to completely let go of her now that she was here…and unencumbered. Admittedly, Jason had watched Hope more than he’d watched the sky lighting up with brilliant color, but her face had been so expressive that he couldn’t help himself. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he finally replied huskily.
“Didn’t you?” Hope asked curiously. She finished the last of her s’more and licked her fingers. “Aren’t you going to make one for yourself? I know you want the chocolate. That was delicious.”
Fuck! Not the finger licking. Is she trying to kill me?
As he watched that pink tongue stroke over her fingers, he wished that she’d put it to work somewhere on his body, preferably south of his navel.
Jason willed his dirty mind to shut the fuck up. It had been a good night and he didn’t want to spoil it. What he’d told her earlier was true. With Hope, he didn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. They’d come back here to Hope’s house on the Amesport peninsula after the fireworks, after they’d stopped by the all-night market to get the things they needed to make s’mores. They had both changed into jeans and sweatshirts before settling themselves by the fire. “I will,” he agreed. “I was just busy watching you. You look like you enjoyed it.” Jason had enjoyed it, too, but he now sat on an unrelenting hard-on.
“I did.” She nodded her head. “I don’t let myself have chocolate very often anymore.”
“Why?” He shoved a marshmallow onto the toasting stick and held it over the fire. Not having chocolate every day was unfathomable to him. He craved it almost as much as sex. Well…not nearly as much as he craved sex with Hope, but badly enough to make sure his supply was always stocked.
Hope rolled her eyes at him. “I think I have plump genes. I’m not exactly thin, Jason.”
Jason’s eyes roamed over her body covetously. She appeared to be in good physical shape, but obviously no amount of exercise seemed to trim down her curvy hips and rounded ass. Thank God! Supermodel thin had never really been attractive to him, and he was glad she’d never lost the appealing softness of those hips and her ass, not to mention those plump breasts of hers. She was fucking…perfect.#p#分页标题#e#
“I think your genes look just fine,” he answered hungrily. She was curved in the right places. Her soft, warm body fit against his as if she’d been designed to be there. “You’re beautiful.”
She gave him a surprised stare, and for just a moment, Jason got lost in her emerald green gaze, her eyes liquid and soft. Her fiery hair framed her beautiful face. Jason wondered whether that was how she’d look when she came for him.
“You’re on fire,” Hope exclaimed, half amused, half alarmed.
It took Jason a second to realize she meant his marshmallow. He pulled it out of the flames and blew out the fiery blob. “I like them burnt,” he lied shamelessly as he smashed the blackened marshmallow between the chocolate and graham cracker. Just the melted chocolate made it worth eating the burnt marshmallow.
She wrinkled her nose at him as she watched him eat the gooey mess. “How is it that Dante hasn’t come looking for you? Aren’t you staying with him?”