Strong Enough(16)
I’m surprised when I see one side of Jasper’s mouth quirk into what looks dangerously close to a lopsided grin. “You’d only need to worry about me if you needed something to take your mind off your troubles for a while.”
“And why is that?”
I hold my breath as I await his answer, anticipation coiling in my stomach like a slippery, slithering snake.
“Because that’s exactly what I’d do. I’d distract you. I’d give you so many things to focus on, so many things to feel that you wouldn’t have enough energy to think about anything else. That’s all I can offer, but what I offer, I excel at providing.”
I inhale on a soft gasp.
It’s a promise. An invitation. A wicked temptation that I can’t afford right now. Why did you ask him that question? Why did you have to know? Stupid, stupid, stupid!
“Lucky for you, I don’t want a distraction. I need to concentrate. This is too important.”
“I won’t say that’s lucky for me. I’ll say that’s lucky for you.”
“And why is that?”
He gives me a long, penetrating look. “I’m probably the worst thing in the world for you. The worst thing that would feel like the best.” Just when I’m pretty sure my heart is going to leap out of my chest, Jasper moves to step around me. “See you in the morning, Muse.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me alone in the dark with thoughts I’ve got no business thinking.
EIGHT
Jasper
When I hear the gunshot, I’m out of bed and on my feet, holding my 9mm before the sleep clears from my eyes. I never rest very soundly. Occupational hazard, I guess.
My brain recognizes immediately that the shot was close, but not too close to me. No immediate threat.
A quick scan of my room tells me that nothing is amiss. My next thought is of the person sleeping a thin wall away, and that she might be in danger. I knew it was a possibility.
I grab the two keys on the nightstand on my way out the door.
Quietly, I let myself into Muse’s room. Rapidly, I swing open the door and then shut it behind me just as quickly, ducking into the corner in case she’s not alone. The light would’ve blinded any intruders and since they didn’t get a shot off, it would take their eyes a minute to readjust to the dark.
I hear movement to my left. Even if I couldn’t see the long waves of hair touching breasts covered in white, I’d know it to be Muse. I can smell her.
I move silently toward her, tucking her behind me and pressing her to the wall. Out of harm’s way.
I survey the room, my eyes accustomed to seeing in low light. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. I don’t smell gunpowder. I don’t sense danger. There is no one in here except Muse.
Muse. I can feel every inch of her imprinted on my back. All I’d have to do is turn and take her in my arms and I could have my fill of her tonight. She wouldn’t resist.
But I’m not that much of a bastard.
I do turn to face her, but I don’t touch her. “Sorry if I scared you.”
“You didn’t,” she pants.
I glance down her body. I can see her chest heaving, lush mounds pressing against the pale material of her tank top. One thin, silvery beam of moonlight creates a shadow from the stiff peaks of her nipples. My mouth waters reflexively. “Liar,” I whisper.
My cock stirs, a sign of my lapse in control. A rare occurrence for me.
It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted someone this bad. I’m all about restraint, so I wait until it’s convenient to slake my baser needs. Convenient, easy, no attachments. That’s my type. Or more my MO. I steer away from complications. And this one is about as complicated as they come, especially for me.
“Okay, fine, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing? And how did you get in here?”
“I heard a gunshot.”
“I heard it, too.”
“I came to check on you.”
“Oh,” she says simply.
She pauses, looking up at me with her big wide eyes. I see the shiny tip of her pink tongue sneak out to wet her lips. I can still taste those lips, that tongue. Still feel the untamed response I got when I kissed her. She’s all sweet allure and wild abandon mixed with the irresistible tang of forbidden fruit. Unfortunately for her, I’ve never let the forbidden, the taboo stop me from taking what I want. But something about taking advantage of a woman who I’m using this way . . . well, even someone like me finds that hard to swallow.
“Now that I know you’re okay,” I begin, backing up a step and sticking my gun in my shorts, at the curve of my lower back. “I’ll let you get back to sleep.”