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Again, she hesitates. “He broke my arm and a couple of ribs. I ended up in the hospital. And I know it sounds bad, but looking back, it was probably the thing that saved me.”
“Who was he?” I grind out. Every muscle in my body tenses with murderous rage.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says, her voice firm but without emotion as she leans back, putting some distance between us. I keep hold of her arms.
“It matters to me that someone hurt you,” I reply just as firmly. I try to pull her closer, but she resists, maintaining the gap between us.
“No, Jase. I need to get this all out while I can.”
I nod, hating the tears washing through her blue eyes, turning them a watery gray and threatening to spill down her cheeks. The frozen stiffness in her stance and the way her fingers are twisting in the side of my shirt tell me she’s hanging on to her control by a thread.
When she speaks again, it’s whisper soft, and I duck my head to catch the words. “Seeing the effect my bad behavior had on my parents made me realize I couldn’t let them lose their remaining child. And that’s the way things were headed. I got help, moved cities, and started again.” She loses the battle to hold back her tears, and they trickle down to her chin. Her crying is eerily silent.
“Oh, D.” My heart squeezes painfully as my strong, gorgeous friend falls apart in front of me. Dana has always seemed so contained, yet here she is, shattered and vulnerable. She hides this side of her personality in her professional life. And even though we’ve become close friends over the last three years, I’m surprised by the transformation.
I need to hold her closer, and this time when I pull her into my arms, she lets me. Brushing back her hair, I lightly kiss her on her forehead. She releases a soft sigh that twists me tighter inside, making me more determined than ever to make her truly happy again.
A few minutes later, she murmurs, “Jase?” Her exhaled breath catches and still sounds jittery.
“Hmm?” I hope she doesn’t want me to let her go because I don’t know that I can.
“I … want you … but I’m scared.”
“I would never hurt you.” My words spill out quickly.
“I know ... I know.” Her arms go around my waist fully, squeezing tightly. “I trust you completely,” she says and looks up. “Only you.”
“Thank you.” A lump lodges in my throat, knowing she sees me that way.
Her shoulders rise on the inhale. “Jason, that’s why I want you to have sex with me.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, but then with another breath, it gathers force. “I want you to be the one to make me feel again.”
My heart swells. “It would be my honor.” My inner alpha male wants to protect her from more hurt, and the thought that she would ask anyone other than me is unbearable.
With a finger under her chin, I tilt her face up to mine and bend to press light kisses to her cheek, wiping away the tracks of tears before claiming her full soft lips. I keep my movements slow and gentle. Not wanting to rush her. I brush my fingers along her jawline until I reach her ear. And when her mouth opens on a gasp, I dip inside, stealing her breath. The tip of her tongue meets mine, and I let her control the pace of our kiss. She quivers in my arms.
My hands go to her hips like they’ve always belonged there. Just like we were on the dance floor only a couple of hours ago, but this time, instead of the backdrop of music, Dana’s soft breath fills my ears. Sweeter and more perfectly in tune with my own desire. “I want to make you forget the past,” I murmur against her lips, “and feel my touch like it was your first.”
“Please,” she begs, and my confidence shoots to the ceiling; I’m ten feet tall.
Releasing her from my hug, I trail my palms down her arms. Her skin pebbles with goose bumps, and I take one of her delicate hands in mine. “Come with me.”
I’ve been to Dana’s place enough times to know where her bedroom is, and that’s where I lead her. We’ve waited so long for this moment that I want to make sure we do this right. I want Dana to relax, lying back on her bed with her legs spread wide while I pleasure her. She trusts me to be the one to break her self-imposed sex ban, and never have I felt more of a responsibility to do the right thing.
Stopping beside the bed, I unlink our hands and then raise my palm to cup her chin. Her expression clouds with questions. “Sit down, beautiful.”
She does. Then, shrugging out of my jacket, I toss it on a nearby chair and remove my bowtie, stuffing it in my pocket. Finally, I undo a few buttons at my collar. Dana watches every step of the process, her hands clasped in her lap. I kneel down in front of her so I can look directly at her.
“Before we start, I want to make you a promise. I’ll never hurt you, and if you want me to stop at any time —and I mean any time—tell me, and I’ll stop immediately. Okay?”
She nods, then smiles. “Any time, hey?”
I like that she’s not so nervous that she can’t tease me.
“But I won’t want you to stop.”
Determination to get this done sets her mouth in a firm straight line. Not exactly how I imagined Dana and I coming together, nor how I intend this to continue. If we’re finally doing this, I want to replace the determination with passion, desire, and a needy desperation that has her screaming my name. And most importantly, forgetting every asshole who used her or caused her pain.
“Hold on to me.”
