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“I can’t.” Her arms trembled, fighting to hold her up as he filled her.
“Yes, you can,” he said, drawing her bottom to the edge of the vanity. Her breasts thrust into the air. He leaned over, still pumping into her, and ran his teeth over her nipple.
“I don’t think I can,” she cried as she tightened around his cock. He’d pushed her so close. But she fought the orgasm. She didn’t want to come. Not like this. Hovering over a sink.
He lifted his head as his hips slammed into her. “I’ve got you, Natalie. You’re safe.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the shower. Her thighs clenched, holding him close, daring her to stop this when it would be so easy to give in and trust him. “Please. Stop.”
He pulled out of her and gently set her on the edge of the sink. His hands moved up her back, drawing her forward and out of her precarious position.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she released the faucets. “But I couldn’t—”
And that was a lie. She’d been on the verge of the promised mind-blowing orgasm—while completely at his mercy. He’d claimed control, calling the shots—and she’d liked it.
She closed her eyes, picturing the way she looked, her body open to him, with her hands behind her. A soft moan escaped. Oh God, she wanted to let him take her just like that, to believe that he’d keep her safe. But to offer her trust?
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he said, lifting her off the vanity. Her feet touched the floor, but he kept one arm around her, holding her steady. He reached his free hand between them and ran his fingers over her clit. “Trust me, Natalie.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. Her arms remained at her sides as he touched her. His finger moved quickly, hitting the right spots with the perfect amount of pressure. It was as if he’d memorized a roadmap of her body.
“Jack.” His name sounded like a plea, like he’d finally reduced her to begging. Her body stiffened. He flicked her clit one last time. “Jack!”
She pulled away, stumbling back. But it was too late. The orgasm she’d begged for swept over her with all the subtlety of a freight train.
“Oh God.” She moved away until she felt the vanity at her back. Her fingers curled around the counter’s edge. “Jack.” And finally—finally—it faded. She opened her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. Without the bet—”
“You need an excuse to be with me,” he said, his voice sharp and so far from charming that she took a step back. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his muscles—from his biceps to his condom-covered erection—tense. He looked like a warrior ready to pounce. “Admit it. If you take the bet and my stupid-ass brothers out of the equation, you would have to face the possibility that you want to be with me. You’d have to trust me.”
“I can’t,” she said quickly. She saw the flash of hurt in his blue eyes. Her words hurt. He might not admit it, but she knew him. Jack Barnes had spent his childhood straight through his years with the SEALs trying to prove he was good enough. And she’d handed him proof. “It’s not you,” she added. “I can’t let you in.”
Please let him understand.
“Helluva time to play the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ card,” he snapped.
She took another step back. “I can’t give you what you want.”
“I want you in my shower.”
“And after that?” she said. She knew the happiness would fade and break apart. It wouldn’t last.
He stared at her as he drew a deep breath. “I want you. No bets. No escape routes. Just you.”
“No.” She released the counter and moved to the door, her back to the suite behind her. She kept her gaze locked on Jack, the man who wanted so much more than she could give. “I can’t fall for you. If I do…”
She shook her head.
“Natalie.” He reached for her. His fingers curled around her bicep. And for a second, she feared he’d hold her here and force her to face a future that would lead to heartbreak.
“Let me go. Now.” She pulled free from his grasp. Then, she turned away and rushed out of the bathroom.
“Wait. Please—”
But she kept going. She scanned his bedroom—and her torn dress—grabbed the white button-down shirt he’d stripped off three orgasms ago and pulled it on.
“When you start measuring time by orgasms,” she murmured as she grabbed her cell off the floor and headed for the door. “It is definitely time to end the naked slumber party.”
A future filled with pleasure, happiness, and heaven help her, Jack—that was too good to be true. She’d had a taste of happiness, a taste of him, and she couldn’t risk another.
