Page 64 of Work It Out
Jake’s hands, with their new calluses and their incredible strength, cupped her face as if she were something infinitely valuable—and impossibly fragile. And in that moment, she felt fragile. One thumb brushed against her cheek, over her jaw, across her lips. “Then tell me something now, cupcake. And be honest.” His eyes flickered over her face as if cataloguing every detail. Or searching for a lie. “We were close to something before, you and me. I was wrong not to tell you about my POTS, but I didn’t want you to refuse to work with me. And, well…” He blushed. “Passing out on the regular isn’t the most masculine affliction.”
She snorted. “Yes, your chronic medical condition is so emasculating. I can barely see those panty-melting dimples through my disgust.”
The aforementioned dimples popped, liquifying her panties and proving her point. “Panty-melting, huh?”
She shook her head with a laugh. “Oh, like you don’t damn well know it.”
“Then why? Why did you really push me away after you found out?”
“We talked about this.” She gripped his wrists and closed her eyes. “The timing was off. Is off,” she corrected. “We can’t—”
“Is this about Blaine?”
“No more than it is about Vicky.”
He jerked back, hands dropping from her face. “What about Vicky? I thought you liked having her with us. You’re the one—”
“I love having her here. She’s sweet and kind and so determined to be helpful, and it breaks my heart, because I don’t think she understands we’d still want her here if she didn’t keep the office running and everyone stuffed full of baked goods.”
“Then what did you mean?”
He genuinely looked confused. “And you accused me of being dense.”
Understanding dawned, quickly followed by nausea. “She’s like my little sister.”
“And if I had to guess, I’d say you’re her first big love.”
“That’s never going to happen,” he said, though not unkindly.
“I know that, and I think she does, too. But I wouldn’t hurt her by shoving…” Her hand flapped between them. “Whatever we were in her face. I know the kind of hell she’s been through.” His eyes widened and he tried to interrupt, but she hurried on. “I didn’t want to make it worse. And neither would you. Certainly not for some woman who’ll be out of your life in a matter of weeks.” Those last words tumbled over her lips like shards of glass, jagged and sharp and far too real.
He would leave, and neither of them could afford to forget that.
Even his scowl was beautiful. “You make it sound like we’ll never see each other again.”
She brought his palm to her lips, pressing a kiss to his work-roughened skin. “Of course I’ll see you again. You’re going to be a huge star, Jake. And I’ll be right here, so very proud to say I knew you when there was still a little Chris from Bigbone left in there somewhere.”
“It doesn’t—”
But she couldn’t bear to hear platitudes or delusions about how they’d make it work, not tonight. For the first time in a long time—maybe ever—she felt sexy. Not just convenient or passably pretty. Not dirty or shameful. The moment he’d seen her tonight, Jake had shut out the rest of the world. He’d watched her like his favorite addiction, as if his next breath depended on how fast he could get his hands on her skin. She wanted to revel in that feeling, in the way he’d eaten her up with his eyes, the heat of his big, hard body against hers, and the miracle that she wanted him just as desperately. Even if he’d hurt her. Even if it was hopeless. Even if she couldn’t keep him. Before Jake, she hadn’t wanted in so long, and never like this.
So she kissed him. In that dim hallway where only the two of them existed, Rayah wrapped her arms around his neck and stretched as far as her tiptoes would take her. Jake still had to bend down, but she counted the kiss as her own. He tangled one hand in her hair and cradled the back of her head. The other slid down to cup her bottom, lifting her closer still.
The moan that slipped out of her mouth unlocked something in him. Both hands were on her ass now, firm and capable. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all. So strong. He’d become so strong. On instinct, she wrapped her legs around his waist. This time it was Jake’s moan that floated out on heated air as he pressed her back against the wall and flexed his hips. They were lined up perfectly. He was so hard. Long and thick. Delicious.
A gasp broke through the haze. Then the patter of fleeing feet. Rayah whipped her head around in time to see Vicky disappear into the crowd.
At the end of the hall stood Samuel, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at them. Most people thought Samuel didn’t have feelings, which was understandable. Even with family, he rarely showed more passion for human beings than the average person showed for exotic animals—interesting to observe, too foreign to truly engage beyond the bounds of the occasional petting zoo. At times like this, Rayah wondered if it was actually the opposite, that Samuel felt more than most, wells of emotion so deep he feared drowning in them. He certainly looked like he’d blown past angry and gone straight for righteously pissed now.
“They’re about to start the lottery.” Stabbing a finger in Jake’s direction, he added, “She’s crying. Fix her.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Psychology101.com
“InOn Death and Dying, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross postulated that grief inevitably presents in five predictable stages. First comes Denial, a valuable coping mechanism to buffer the mind against the overwhelming nature of loss. Next comes Anger…”
Jake helped Rayah in the agonizing slide down his body, until she was safely on her feet. His dick might actually shrivel and fall off this time. She didn’t leave him, though, not yet.
