Rev It Up (Black Knights Inc. #3)(54)



Sure, that was nothing but a rationalization for what was undoubtedly one of the stupidest things she’d ever contemplated doing, but did she even care?

She’d spent the last few years suppressing her own needs for those of another. Pretending she didn’t miss the feel of a man moving against her, moving inside her. Acting like she didn’t burn with a need she refused to fulfill. And tomorrow she’d go back to all that. Tomorrow she’d resume her role, adjust her mask, step back into her mommy uniform.

But tonight?

For the first time in a very long time, she decided to be selfish, to take what she wanted and not worry about the consequences.

Tonight was going to be for her. For the woman she’d been before all the pain and anger and deception. For this one night, she wasn’t going to worry what the future might hold, what terrible hurts and revelations it might reveal. For this one night, she was going to forget it all and just…feel.

Having made her decision, however idiotic it may have been—okay, it was undoubtedly idiotic, but she was done caring—she shrugged out of her dress, letting it pool at her waist. Jake pulled back, his eyes hungry as they stared down at her lacy bra and all it supported.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, using one finger to trace the silky, black strap. Following the material to the top edge of one cup, he gently dipped that long finger inside.

Goose bumps tripped up her spine.

She reached for him, and it was then he did something totally unexpected. He jumped up from the bed, turning his back on her and lacing his fingers together on top of his head. “I didn’t bring you here for this. I swear I didn’t. I meant it when I gave you that promise last night.”

“I know,” she breathed, shimmying out of her dress and panties, unhooking her bra and flinging it to the floor. Since she made her decision, she wasn’t going to let him back out.

She deserved this, dangit! She deserved the wantonness and fire and hedonistic thrill. After everything she’d been through, after everything he’d put her through, she deserved it…

He dropped his arms, turning to her, his hot eyes traveling over her naked body before he groaned. “You…” he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You took off your clothes.”

“Yes, I did,” she whispered. “Now the only problem is that you haven’t taken off yours.”

She scooted to the edge of the mattress, kneeling in front of him as she reached for the buttons on his shirt. He didn’t stop her, just stood stock-still and watched as her fingers worked the buttons free. She reveled in the thin smattering of hair she revealed, darker than that on his head, although the tips were still golden and sun-bleached. His nipples were little brown disks and when the backs of her fingers grazed his stomach, the muscles beneath quivered in a series of accordion-like contractions. He shrugged his shoulders so she could pull the shirt away, then groaned again when she dropped her fingers to the buttons of his fly.

“Why are you doing this?” He grabbed her hands, stopping her. “Does this mean that you…? That we…?” He shook his head helplessly, the hope in his eyes enough to have a dead weight settling in the center of her chest.

For a moment, she wanted to forget everything that’d happened, everything he’d ever done, take him at his word when he said he loved her and he’d changed.

But men like him never changed, no matter how much they might believe they had. Eventually, when things got boring, when things got routine, he’d prove himself true to form and go in search of the next thrill.

It was as certain as tomorrow’s sunrise…

“Nothing’s changed,” she told him, reaching up to drag him down for a kiss. “We’ve always been good at this, or…” She chuckled, and she hoped he didn’t notice that the sound was a little desperate, “…at least I think we’d have been good at it if we’d ever been allowed to finish.”

His eyes were so green, staring at her searchingly, but he didn’t offer up further objections as she undid the last button at his fly and yanked his jeans and his boxers over his hips. His erection sprang free and—

Oh…wow…

He was long and pink and…absolutely perfect…

When she reached for him, he stopped her, manacling her wrist. She glanced into his face and saw the struggle in his eyes, in the hard tick of the muscles in his jaw. “This is what you really want, Jake. You know it’s only ever really been about this.”

Softly she pulled his hand away from her wrist and placed it on her breast. His eyes followed the move and the minute she skimmed his fingers across her hardened nipple, his nostrils flared, and his gaze narrowed.

“Shell,” he groaned, his eyes avidly watching the movement of his fingers as he circled and gently pinched at the aching bud. “It isn’t just about this.” But even as he said it, he moved closer, his knees bumping up against the mattress.

She reached for him again, and this time he made no move to stop her.

“Ah, God,” he whispered when she stroked her hand up his length.

“Let’s finally finish this,” she murmured, leaning forward to press her lips to the tip of him, reveling in the smell of aroused man, in the feel of silky hot skin sliding over a column of flesh-and-blood steel.

He made a desperate, hungry sound in the back of his throat before pushing her away so he could hop out of his boots, shedding his jeans and ankle holster in the process.

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