She crumpled against his chest. “Oh God, Jacob, this is so much worse than not knowing. I didn’t think anything could hurt that much, but I was so wrong.”
“I know.” Jacob gentled his hands along her hair again. He gritted his teeth against the need to bury his face in her neck. “I know.”
“Hold me. Please.” Half sobbing, gasping in air, she burrowed against his chest.
She squirmed against him as if to nestle closer still. He tried to ignore his reaction to her soft body wriggling against his. As much as he wanted, needed, burned to lose himself inside her and forget about the whole damned evening, she needed something else from him.
Or so he thought.
Her hands grappled at his shirt, his shoulders, his hair, dragging his head down to hers. Tapping the last dregs of his self-control, he held himself back.
With a none-too-gentle yank, Dee urged him closer. “Kiss me, damn it.”
He wanted to, needed to, but knew it was wrong. The wrong time. The wrong reason. But she sure as hell felt like the right woman. “You don’t know what you’re saying. It’s adrenaline talking.”
Fire snapped from her eyes, full force and full of will. “Adrenaline? Is that what it was yesterday? Or every day we’ve been together and I wanted this?” Her pupils widened until her eyes turned near-black, like heavy storm clouds. “For all this time I’ve been trying to remember, yet now I’m finding I desperately need to forget. Please, for just a few hours, help me forget.”
Good intentions fled. All his honorable platitudes seemed to have checked out for the night, and he couldn’t think of a single rebuttal. His fingers flexed around her wrists as he stared into the tear-misted eyes of this woman he wanted more than air.
Time to quit fighting it. He hadn’t been able to walk away from her the first time he saw her any more than he could turn away now.
Chapter 12
W as she getting through to him? If he turned her down, she would—
Do what?
Shriek her frustration at him and the whole world? She’d already done enough shouting for one night, for a lifetime even.
But the very trait that made Jacob so attractive to her could be the one thing that caused him to pull away. The man was so honorable.
She needed to forget what Blane had done to her and their child. Just for tonight until she could do something to find Evan.
“Jacob,” she moaned, demanded. Determination fueled her fingers as she shoved his buttons free, working her way from his neck down the camouflage uniform. All those necessary layers of cold-weather wear kept her from finding the salty skin she yearned to taste. She groaned her frustration. His hands covered hers.
Uh-oh. Here comes more talk of right and wrong and morning-after regrets.
Stretching onto her toes, Dee grazed her mouth along his neck, up to his ear. She’d never considered herself much of a femme fatale and feared she would fall short now. Blane’s infidelity had torn at her self-confidence. He’d been her first, and after their split, she’d shut that part of her away rather than risk more rejection.
Would she have ever pursued Jacob so relentlessly before she’d lost her memory? Of course not. How odd that it had taken a hefty dose of amnesia to set her sensuality free. Still, she wasn’t sure her fledgling sense of adventure could withstand Jacob turning from her.
Pride forced a huskiness to her voice. “Don’t tell me ‘no.’”
“All right.”
That stopped her faster than any long speech about impulsive mistakes. Pride ducked behind surprise.
Dee’s grip tightened around Jacob’s collar. “You don’t think this is a bad idea? You don’t think it’s an adrenaline high that—”
Jacob silenced her with a hard kiss.
He rested his forehead against hers. “Yes, I do think we’re both riding an adrenaline high. But no, I don’t think we should stop. We’ve both wanted this too long to waste it by rushing. Let’s take it slow.” His light blue eyes turned smoky, whispering over her. “Really slow.”
The hungry sweep of his eyes left Dee with no doubts. He wasn’t going to leave her hurting and alone. Relief turned her legs to soup, like one of those Sunday Jell-O molds left out too long.
It was going to happen. She and Jacob would be n**ed in a matter of moments—slow, stolen moments.
He dipped his head to drink unending, leisurely kisses from her mouth. What made the feel of his hands on her so special, so different?