Jasper Vale (The Edens #4)(53)

Jasper kissed me until I was breathless, my heart racing. Then he broke away, his eyes searching mine again.

“Eloise.”

Just my name. Something inside me cracked. I was so sick of pretending. I was so tired of caring for this man and not knowing fuck all about him.

“I want to be your friend.” His best friend. Not Foster. Me. “I want you to talk to me. Or try.”

The torment in Jasper’s gaze twisted my heart. He looked like I was asking for the world.

Maybe I was.

“I want to know you, better than anyone else knows you.”

His hands came to my face, his palms pushing away the rain and stroking through my wet hair. “What else do you want?”

I want this to be real.

But it wasn’t.

“I want you to kiss me.”

He didn’t hesitate. He slammed his mouth down on mine again, his tongue sliding along my lower lip.

I moaned, fluttering my tongue against his, just like he’d taught me. The moan that came from his throat, my reward.

Jasper lifted me off the ground, waiting until my arms encircled his shoulders, before he swept me inside.

Then he ripped away my towel.

And used it to clean the dirt from my feet.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN





JASPER





Eloise’s towel lay puddled on the kitchen floor as she padded for the stairs, every inch of her naked, glorious body on display.

That woman carried an invisible leash.

Where she went, I willingly followed.

Fucking hell, I’d missed her.

So much I stopped moving, needing a moment to soak her in. The smooth skin. Those slender curves. Her chocolate hair and her soft lips. The mouth I loved to kiss.

She noticed I wasn’t following and glanced over her shoulder. Those dazzling blue eyes were as stormy as the weather. Frustration. Lust. Defeat.

Our reality was inevitable. It hung over our heads like the current thunderstorm.

Eloise stretched out a hand.

I took it.

We’d ignore that reality for another night.

The moment we reached the loft, she lay on the bed, her wet hair splaying across the pillows. Her gaze stayed locked on me as I undressed, tossing my clothes into a pile beside my discarded shoes.

Then I climbed into the bed, settling on top of her, and without any fooling around, I slid inside her wet heat. And for the first time in days, I could breathe.

She hummed, that sound of ecstasy music to my ears. Her legs wrapped around me, holding tight as I encircled her with my arms, burying my face in the crook of her neck to draw in the vanilla and spice and earth.

Eloise.

She’d ruined me. Somewhere along the way, she’d ruined me for any other woman.

Maybe that should have bothered me.

We moved in tandem, like practiced lovers who’d had years, not months, to learn each other’s weaknesses. Our eyes stayed locked, our limbs entwined.

This wasn’t fucking, not tonight. It was too intimate to be considered fucking. But I wouldn’t put the other label on it, not even for myself. Instead I drowned in Eloise, and when she shattered, I followed her into the oblivion.

Neither of us shifted until our hearts had stopped pounding, our breaths no longer ragged. Then I rolled to my back, taking her with me, positioning her on my chest, knowing she’d want to stay close.

Beyond the balcony door, the thunder boomed, followed seconds later by the flash of lightning. Rain prattled on the tin roof.

Eloise’s finger traced lazy circles on my skin, first on my shoulder, then drifting to my pec before she flicked my nipple and her touch trailed up my throat.

It wasn’t foreplay. This was just her. She touched, constantly. Aimlessly.

I’d missed this touch, so much so that I’d changed my plans in Vegas, cramming what I’d planned to do in days into hours. After my interview, I’d stopped by my old gym to see a few friends. Then I’d gone to my house, packing the few things I’d brought along so that yesterday morning, when I woke at dawn to hit the road, my stuff would be ready.

Pulling into the A-frame last night, finding Eloise’s car missing and a dark house, had been a punch to the face.

Fifteen hours on the road, and I’d been so desperate to see her. To climb in bed beside her and finally get some sleep. Apparently, I’d gotten used to the cuddling. Without her, I hadn’t been able to sleep.

Last night had been restless too. I’d stayed awake most of the night, waiting for her to get home, wondering if she was working at the hotel. Worrying that something had happened to her.

I’d finally had enough of the worry that I’d gotten up, put on some sweats and driven into town. But she hadn’t been at the hotel’s front desk. Through the gleaming windows, I’d spotted the night clerk reading a book.

Rationally, I’d known she was probably with her family. Maybe at the ranch with her parents. But that hadn’t stopped me from driving by the two bars on Main, searching out her car. I’d swung by Willie’s too before finally returning home.

Then I’d waited. And waited. And fucking waited.

All goddamn day to see my wife.

Yeah, I should have texted her. Or called. Except that would have been too real. Too revealing.

So I’d gotten pissed. Not even a few hours with Foster at the gym had helped me relax.