Uncontrollable Temptations (Tempted #3)(43)
“I haven’t the foggiest,” she croaked.
My lips quirked as I dropped her hands and slipped the leather jacket off her and threw it over to the chair where my jacket was.
“Means you’re Property of Parrish now, sweetheart,” I said, as I worked her shoulders with my hands, letting them glide over her breasts, squeezing them in the palms of my hands before moving them down her stomach to the V of her legs. “Means all this, everything you are, is mine,” I growled.
“Whose property are you then?” She asked, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t name.
“No one’s,” I answered, taking her hands and pulling her toward the bathroom.
She opened her mouth to object but quickly closed it once I turned the bathroom light on. She glanced around the small space, taking in the large floor to ceiling mirrors that covered the walls. I closed the door softly behind me and leaned against it.
“For every piece of clothing you give me, I’ll give you a piece of my past,” I bargained, crossing my arms against my chest as I stared at her lazily through the glass.
“Your past?” She whispered hoarsely. “Maybe it’s not your past I want.”
“Don’t know how to give you more than that,” I admitted, pushing off the door and moving to stand behind her. I wrapped my arms around her waist, bringing her body against mine and looked at us in the mirror. “Give you what I got, Sunshine, and I’ll keep giving it as long as it comes to me,” I vowed, nuzzling her hair. “You see what I see?” I whispered against her ear.
“Turn the lights off, Jack, please,” she whispered, looking away from the mirror. I ran one hand up the front of her body, cupped her chin and forced her eyes toward the mirror.
“No,” I shook my head. “Not tonight,” I said, taking her hands and lifting them over her head. I had claimed her to my brothers, but I meant it when I said I wanted all of her. I wanted her to trust me enough to give me the things she kept to herself, the things that haunted her and shielded her from the rest of the world. In my thirty-eight years I never wanted to be that guy, the one that heals another person, someone who cares enough to fix what is broken beyond repair.
She ruined me.
Or maybe she fixed me.
But it was my turn to do the fixing.
“I was fifteen the first time I got arrested,” I started, my fingers working the hem of her shirt up her torso. “I robbed a car,” I continued as the material went over her breasts. She gasped as her bare skin became exposed. I kept my eyes on hers in the mirror and brought a finger to her lips to silence her. “Just me and you here, Sunshine,” I whispered, dropping my hand and bringing the shirt over her head.
“My mother hated me, told me I was crazy and damned me to Hell every chance she got,” I said, as I restrained myself to keep my eyes on hers while I unraveled her. “When she died, I didn’t cry, I fucking rejoiced.”
I trailed my finger tip down the base of her spine, watching her eyes close and her flesh prickle with goosebumps, unsure if it resulted from my touch or my confession. I moved her hair, exposing her shoulder and leaned closer, my breath on her ear.
“I am crazy,” I whispered. “Just not the type of crazy she thought.”
I slipped my finger beneath the strap of her bra, following it down her back to where the clasp was. Her eyes fluttered open, latching onto mine as I unclasped her bra.
“I sold guns to kids, drugs to women, I robbed, cheated and killed,” I confessed, sliding the straps down her arms and freeing her breasts. Her bra dropped to the tiles and my hands snaked around her, cupping her perfect tits.
She licked her lips, never breaking eye contact as I rolled her nipple between my fingers, tugging on the tip until she moaned.
“I married Connie because we had a kid together and then we had another kid. We fought more than we ever loved,” I continued, dropping my left hand to the button on her jeans while my right hand continued to play with her swollen tits. I undid the button with ease and slipped my hand inside her pants.
“She thought I was crazy too, only she begged me to get help. Instead of getting help, I pushed her away, so far away,” I recalled, dropping my right hand to the waist band of her jeans and slowly tugging the denim down her hips.
It was killing me not to look at her body, driving me utterly insane, but I’d bare myself to her before she bared all she hid.
“I told you I had a brother. I meant I had a brother that shared the same blood as me,” I said hoarsely. I pulled her jeans down her thighs and though I bent down to pull them all the way off, I kept my eyes on her face.
“Got a problem with my head, Sunshine, and when my brother went against me, I snapped,” I hesitated as she stepped out of her jeans.
I brought my hands to her hips, hooked my fingers around the elastic and yanked her thong down her legs.
“I wasn’t paying attention,” I whispered. “I was wrapped up in my own world, my own dark world,” I continued, as I rose to my full height, stepping around her so we stood side by side. “My boy ran out of the house and into the street. He got hit by a car while I danced with the devil inside my head. I don’t remember how I regained consciousness, what made me snap back to reality but whatever it was, it came too late. I was too late. I ran outside and cradled my son in my arms, like I did when he took his first breaths—but I didn’t catch his last.”