Her gaze skitters away, and my heart twists. “Yes.”
“Bliss, if he did something to you… you don’t have to worry about what I’ll think. He has this way about him that makes people want to please him.” I laugh bitterly. “Actually, he’s a fucking bully, and if he looked at you sideways, then I want to know it, so I can beat the shit out of him.”
“I swear on my parents’ graves. Your dad did not touch me, at all. He barely looked at me.”
Pent-up air whooshes from my lungs. Yeah, I was looking for an excuse to pound Everett, but I’m so damn relieved I want to hug Bliss and never let go.
She leans forward, touching my face and getting my attention. “I think we’ve had enough sharing for tonight.” She smiles gently. “It’s three in the morning, and I’m tired.”
I make a move to leave, but her hand grabs my arm. I turn to look at her. Letting go, she scoots over and pats the space beside her. “There’s room for two.”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea?”
“I think sleep is an excellent idea.” She tilts her head to the side. “All I want to do is hold you tonight. Can you let me?”
“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”
“Sometimes the girl gets to be the hero and save the day.”
I grunt, climbing in beside her as she pulls me to her. I rest my face on her t-shirt-covered chest as she strokes my hair. Her soft breath hits the top of my cheeks and nose. The sound of her heartbeat makes my eyes feel as if they weigh a thousand pounds each.
“Go to sleep, Jackson.” Then she murmurs something in Spanish. The only word I can pick out is angels. “I’ll keep away the nightmares.”
My eyes pop open one last time. “I don’t have nightmares.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“Damn straight.”
She makes a small noise, and then begins to hum, way off-key but comforting. Just as I begin to drift away, she stops and says, “Nightmares are nothing compared to the hell we’ve lived through.”
*** *** ***
Bliss
The rain has turned to a soft shower, perfect for sleeping in, or so I’ve heard. I’ve never actually tested the theory myself, mostly because I’ve never had the chance.
Even when I’d fall asleep in some place safe, I wouldn’t let myself completely give in to exhaustion. There was always the chance that I’d be asked to leave, or the occasionally perv trying to cop a feel.
Jackson stretches beside me, his lean body taking up most of the bed. He rolls on his side, a heavy thigh falling over mine. His arm snakes around my front. The warmth of his body relaxes me once more, and just as my eyes flutter close, I feel his hand on my breast.
My eyes pop open. I watch as that same hand begins to massage my breast, making my nipple tighten. His low voice rumbles in my ear, but I can’t understand what he’s saying.
Then his lips are on my neck, and I instinctively press back, my butt coming in contact with his cock. He groans against my skin, his other hand skimming over my thigh. When two of his fingers slip inside my panties, I stiffen, but he resumes his torture of my breast, and I melt against him.
His fingers sift through my curls, and then part me. I moan.
“Wet… damn, you’re soaking wet,” he says at the same time he slips a finger inside of me. My inner muscles clamp down on him, and he tightens his arm around me. “God, I want to be inside you, but I won’t do it. I’ll wait until—”
“When?”
Instead of answering, he slides in another finger, his thumb working at my clit. I can’t speak. He’s doing all the talking—telling me in explicit terms what he wants to do with me and how often.
“You’ll come for me this time, beautiful girl. No one’s here but us.” He bites down on my earlobe and I whimper. “That’s it. So damn beautiful.”
In my next heartbeat, I’m on my back, my shirt is up around my neck, and his mouth is on my nipple, sucking. “Oh God.” My hips jerk, desire and heat twining together, until my entire body is bound by him.
He curls his fingers inside of me, finding a spot that makes me moan so loud that I blush. His hips move against me, his fingers seeking, and his tongue swirling around my nipple.
I grip one of his wide shoulders, and then let my hand travel lower, to the bulge outlined by his boxer briefs, gently grabbing him. “Harder,” he growls. “I’m not soft and delicate like you.”
I grab him, like he wants, and he shoves his fingers deeper inside of me. My back arches, my stomach tightens, until finally, I break free.
“That’s it… give me more,” he says against my skin, before letting his mouth travel lower. I barely have time to register what he’s doing before he licks me, replacing his thumb with his talented tongue.