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“Could you handle it?” he asked, and she knew he wasn’t talking about the zipper.
She stood to her feet, smoothed her dress down, then looked at him coolly.
“Could you?” She arched a brow in question.
He smiled slowly. “Don’t dare me, Terrie. ”
She lifted her shoulder in unconcern. “Don’t push me, Jesse. I want you, not a pack of hound dogs. Take that however you want to. And decide which one you want the most. You can let me know when you figure it out. ”
So much for seduction, she thought sarcastically.
He stood slowly to his feet. “What the hell do you mean by that?” he growled.
“I mean, Jesse, when you decide you want me without all the dire warnings and predictions, then you can let me know. I care about you, as you well know. If I didn’t, then I’d be damned if I would put up with your arrogance, or your habit of showing up at my home before sunrise for coffee. The question is, can you do without your buddies long enough to take it?”
She didn’t give him time to answer. She swept out of the office quickly, fighting the shuddering need racing through her body, and the sudden tightening of Jesse’s muscles as though preparing to move for her. If he wanted her, then he knew where he could find her. Alone.
Chapter Three
He found her asleep on the couch. This was where Terrie slept most of her nights away, curled beneath a light blanket, staring up at the skylight above her. As far as Jesse knew, she hadn’t slept in a bed since she had moved from Thomas’s years before. Before his death. Before the truth of his abuse had come to light. And Jesse wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t spent that first week after his brother’s death with her.
Her nightmares had humiliated her, he remembered. They had shocked him to the very core of his being. He had known Thomas was different. Had known his brother possessed a cold, cruel side, but he had never suspected the habitual threats he had nearly destroyed Terrie with. So much so that she had been in the process of a divorce when he died. It amazed Jesse that she hadn’t killed Thomas herself.
He knelt by the couch, watching her sleep. The blanket covered only her breasts and hips, leaving her long legs bare. She was as naked as sin, lying on her back, breathing deeply as she dreamed. A large man’s shirt was pooled on the floor beside the couch as though she had dropped it, unheeded, before lying down. The fragile light of the first rays of morning touched her delicate, honey gold skin, giving it a soft, luminescent color.
She was more beautiful now than she had been dressed in silk and lace at Ella’s wedding. And more tempting. Did she, he wondered, know how much she tempted him?
He shook his head. He wasn’t a stupid man. He had watched Terrie at that wedding. Watched her expressions, the curiosity in her eyes. She was willing, but uncertain. Needy, but frightened. She was a woman searching for an end to the needs that tormented her, a woman almost willing to reach out.
Almost. His lips quirked into a smile. Terrie couldn’t be ordered. She couldn’t be persuaded. It had to be her choice. How could he convince her to choose?
Damn. As he stared at her he was amazed once again at what the very sight of her did to him. How it clenched his chest, engorged his cock, had emotions springing to life that he knew he would be much more comfortable without. He didn’t need to love this woman. He didn’t need to be tormented with her fiery will, her insatiable curiosity and her smart mouth. But there he was. Where he had been since before his brother’s death. In love with the one woman he knew he shouldn’t want.
He could very well be a fool. He could be making the biggest mistake of his life. He watched her sleep, entranced by her shifting expressions, wondering what dreams filled her head. Was it nightmare or sensual pleasure that had her sighing roughly as she shifted beneath the blanket?
His throat tightened at the thought that nightmares could be visiting her again. That the past could be haunting her with decisions and mistakes not her own. She was too willing to take fault onto her fragile shoulders. Too willing to accept blame when it lay with others.
He lifted his hand, his fingers pushing back a silken strand of red gold hair from her sleep flushed cheek. Her lips parted. Pouty pink curves that he could too well imagine moving beneath his, or enveloping the head of his cock. He grimaced, fighting a groan at the thought of that.
“Terrie?” he whispered her name gently. A soft intimate whisper that he wished he had the right to use. He was taking that right. He was tired of waiting.
The soft moue of her lips at the disturbance had him watching her in amusement. She must have been up late the night before. She shifted again, causing the light blanket to slip further along the full curves of her breasts. Her nipples were peaked, pressing hard against the cloth. On one, the outline of a small gold loop could be seen. The presence of the nipple ring never failed to make his cock jerk in a hungry response. He stared down at it, watching the peaks hardening slowly, becoming engorged as she shivered within whatever dream held her. Sensual pleasure.
“Terrie. Wake up. ” He spoke louder this time, touching her cheek as her eyes flew open.
She blinked for a second, her gaze drowsy at first as she focused on him. Sensual heat lit her gaze as her lips parted in surprise, her eyes darkening with drowsy sexuality.
“Jesse?” she whispered, her voice husky and dark as she watched him.
She shifted lazily, unaware of the blanket slipping as she did so, the edge catching then falling away from the loop that pierced her nipple. God help him. His whole body tightened. Beaten gold lay against the dark rose areola, looping into the nipple, providing a decadent temptation to his hungry senses. He wondered if she would whimper when he gripped the little loop in his teeth and tugged at it sensually.
“Wake up. ” He tucked the blanket over the swell of her breasts. Out of sight was not out of mind, though. “We need to talk. ”
She blinked again. “Talk?”
Her awakening senses were lazy as hell, he knew. Terrie didn’t just jump out of the bed. She was like a kitten, drowsy, stretching, accustoming herself to reality before stepping into it.
“Come on, lazy bones. Coffee should be ready, and we can talk. ” He patted her thigh. He wanted to pat something else instead.
