Shattered (The Protectors 11)

Since I didn’t want to give him a chance to change his mind, I quickly shifted my weight so that I was on my knees in front of him. It made me a little taller than him. When I reached for his face, I felt his hands come up to my waist to steady me.

“Caleb—”

“I know, Jace,” I interrupted. “It won’t mean anything.” I’d heard him loud and clear when he’d talked about his view of sex. Admittedly, it had been hard to hear, especially since I’d been holding out hope that there might be some part of him that wanted me that way. But even if there was, he and I both knew I wouldn’t be any kind of match for him. The idea of sex, even with him, terrified me even as it intrigued me. But aggressive sex and being used to get off? No, I wasn’t capable of handling that. No matter how much a part of me wished I was.

With me being higher than him, Jace was forced to look up at me just a little. I waited until his eyes met mine and then quietly said, “It means something to me, Jace.” Then I pressed my lips against his cheek. I relished how warm his skin felt through the scratchy stubble on his face and the way his fingers dug into my waist just a little bit. He clearly hadn’t been expecting the move, because when I pulled back, his eyes were closed and he looked like he was in pain.

“Jace,” I breathed.

He opened his eyes. It seemed to take him a moment to look at me. Our faces were just inches apart. It would’ve been so easy to lean in and taste his lips next.

“Thank you,” I said softly, then I let my fingers do what my lips couldn’t. They skimmed his warm, firm lips. I hung there for a moment, long enough to let the memory of touching him take root deep inside of me in a place where I’d be able to find it later. Then I pulled out of his reach and stood. I left him sitting there and headed back to the kitchen to clean up the breakfast dishes.

I didn’t look back at him.

I’d told him more than I’d ever planned. He’d made it possible to do so by giving me something in return. As open as he’d been with me, I suspected he’d only scratched the surface. He was so much more complicated than I’d ever imagined. Of course, I’d seen him through the rose-colored glasses of a victim worshipping his rescuer. Never in a million years would I have guessed he was so very… human.

I heard the engine of the boat kick in and a few moments later we began moving. After the dishes were done, I pulled up my sleeve and began to clean up the dried blood on my arm from the night before when I’d gouged at the wounds with my fingernails. I hadn’t missed the way Jace had looked at me this morning – he’d been wondering if I’d hurt myself while he’d still been asleep. I supposed it was a look I’d have to get used to. I didn’t really have the right to be upset that he didn’t trust me.

He shouldn’t.

The cuts had already scabbed over, so I left them alone. Although I was still physically exhausted, I felt mentally restless, so I gave up on the idea of going back to bed and returned above deck. Jace had gotten us headed south again, though we weren’t moving very fast. I grabbed the blanket still sitting on the back bench and took it up to the front of the boat with me. The boat was designed so that the driver sat a little higher than the front of the boat, so I knew Jace could see me as I sat close to the edge to watch the hull slice cleanly through the water. We traveled for about a half an hour before Jace stopped the boat, then dropped anchor. I could see the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, which meant we were near Annapolis, which was where my father had kept his own boat.

The boat swayed as Jace came around to the front. He sat down next to me and said, “So, any chance you have a recipe in your repertoire for striped bass?” He cracked a smile at me and I was instantly glad that I hadn’t ruined things with the kiss I’d given him.

“I think I can pull something together. Are you planning on bringing the little woman home some fish to fry up?” I joked.

“Hell, no,” Jace said as he gave me a gentle slap on the back. “I can’t fish for shit. Dalton’s the one who has to bait my hook and cast my rod. No clue how to clean a fish, either.”