“Again, again.” On cue, a shiver ran through her limbs. “So close.”
“Me, too. Fuck. Me, too.” Jasmine flung her other leg over Sarge’s shoulder, leaving both feet hovering, the added depth tearing a growl from his lips. “Fuck, that’s tight, baby. So tight for me.” This was it. He couldn’t hold back. Pain between his legs. A relentless, driving, throbbing ache. “Tell me your fucking legs are up in the air because you want my come. Pout for it. Let me see that little pout.”
The excitement in her eyes was almost enough to knock Sarge into oblivion, but then she frowned, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, her tits still bouncing from the force his drives. “Please, please, Sarge. Ay que rico. I want it inside m-me.”
She climaxed on the final word and Sarge sprinted after, their wet, spasming flesh slapping together as strangled moans rent the air. Oxygen eluded him…he couldn’t pull enough into his lungs. A series of images flashed on the backs of his eyelids. The first time he’d met Jasmine in his living room and spent the night wondering about her. Jasmine laughing as she jumped off the community pool diving board. Jasmine singing beside him at the mall, her voice clear and rich. She was it for him. Always had been. His head buzzed and spun with urgency. On the heels of an orgasm that had stripped the remains of his filter, Sarge could process only one fact. If he didn’t keep her, he’d never be happy a day in his life. Not now. Not after knowing and loving her at this stage of his life. Solidifying what he’d always known.
“I love you, Jasmine.” His body deflated against her as the words were released. Relief. So much relief at finally saying them. Getting them out of his chest where they’d been held prisoner for so long. They meant more now, though. This wasn’t a crush or an infatuation—every minute in her company confirmed it. He’d loved Jasmine then and he loved her more now. “I’ve always, always loved you. I’m not going anywhere, do you understand me? I’m staying here with you.”
Jasmine’s first reaction was joy. A rush of happiness so strong, she could never harness it or make it manageable. It was a fist around her heart, pumping the blood without her assistance. Taking the responsibility of staying alive away from her. When a man like Sarge loved you with such ferocity, surely that love could sustain you on its own.
But she came down hard. She crashed to earth with broken bones, wondering why her parachute hadn’t opened and softened the fall. I’ve always, always loved you.
How could she want that love and feel the unshakable need to run away at the same time? It was like walking in on the third act of a play and trying to discern each player’s motivation, except there was only one player and his arms were banded around her so tight, she thought he might be trying to meld them together. A significant part of her wanted that joining to take place, but another more prominent part was scared to death. She’d allowed him to overwhelm her with every word, every touch. Now it was time to remove the blinders. And with that removal, every insecurity she’d slowly managed to suppress throughout the last few days rained down on her head.
Sarge couldn’t want this woman she’d become, whose idea of a Friday night was warm beer in a shitty bar, fingernails still sooty from her factory job. This fantasy relationship would be over as soon as he realized he’d saddled himself with a never-was. Because Sarge Purcell, rock star, was the exact opposite. He’d made it.
It was up to Jasmine to make sure he didn’t make this mistake. She…she would be the mistake. She couldn’t compete with the bright lights and adoration he’d grown accustomed to since getting free of Hook.
Jasmine dug her fingernails into her palm, pressing until pain bloomed behind her eyes. “What do you mean you’re staying?”
Sarge’s head came up, wariness deepening the blue of his eyes at her tone of voice. God, he was beautiful, his dark hair a wreck, mouth red and shiny from kissing. “I mean I’m staying in Hook. I won’t leave you. I can’t.”
His statements were little iron hooks digging into her organs. “Don’t make promises in the heat of the moment. You’re too good a person not to keep them.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that.” A line formed between his eyebrows. “What about the part when I told you I love you, Jas? Let me know if you’re planning on ignoring it, so I can say the words again. And again. Until you can’t.”
He wasn’t going to make this easy. Had there been any doubt of that? Since he’d arrived, he’d come at her like a freight train, giving her no escape paths or places to burrow. “I heard you. I also heard you say always.”
“That’s right.”