“Still not done, honey. I love you with every fiber of my being.” His thumbs caressed her cheeks with reverence. “I’m happiest when I’m with you and resent any time apart. I think of you and smile. I think of you and crave. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
She melted against him, and in that moment, that instant, that snap of time, the fear left her. Just, boom, it packed up and moved out. This man—this amazing, precious man—might have a temper, but he loved her. He loved her, defective Brook Lynn Dillon. And she knew without a doubt that he would never turn his rage on her.
She might not have forgotten his rages, but she had forgotten his reaction to her, at least for a little while. He’d snapped out of his darker emotions at her command, at her touch, and his first thought had been of her, of her safety.
How could she ever have doubted him?
“So...” she said, kissing the center of his chin. “What I’m hearing is, you are totally whipped.”
He laughed, the sound of it rusty but magnificent. “I think ‘tenderized’ is a more apt description.”
“Like chicken?”
“For sure.”
Feeling more lighthearted than she had in days, she couldn’t help but tease, “You think I’m a mallet?”
“A very beautiful mallet.” He kissed the center of her chin, as well, then the edge of her mouth. “I was serious about proving myself. And the only way I know to do that is to make sure you know everything about me. Nothing held back.” Thin lines of tension formed at the corners of his eyes. “And there is something else I haven’t told you. Something I haven’t told anyone, not even Beck and West.”
When he said no more, she petted at his chest. “Whatever it is,” she said softly, “I’m not going anywhere. Not this time. And I want you to know I kept your other secret. Whatever you tell me stays with me. Always.”
He thought for a moment, nodded. But the lines of tension only deepened. “I...when I was first locked away...I was...I was scrawny, and the things you’ve probably heard about prison life...they’re true.” He cleared his throat. Beads of sweat dotted his brow. “The ‘worse’ things I told you happened to me...I was held down and...forced...and it happened more than once, until I got stronger and learned to fight back.”
Hearing the confession was like taking a baseball bat to the head: jarring, shocking and horrific all at once. Reeling, she wrapped her arms around him, held him close. “I’m so sorry, Jase.” A thousand emotions seemed to bubble up at once, nearly choking her.
He squeezed her tightly, holding on as if she were a life raft. He’d suffered, and was still suffering, with the aftereffects.
His body began to shake. Something wet splashed on her neck. Tears?
“Oh, Jase,” she whispered. No words would be good enough, but she had to try. “You are a wonderful, amazing man, and I am so blessed to know you. I hate that you were hurt. I hate it so much. I would take away your pain if I could. I would bear it for you.”
He held on to her long after his shaking stopped. When he lifted his head, she wiped the moisture from his cheeks, her heart pounding against her ribs. She’d been right before. This man felt too much. Too deeply.
A buzz sounded from his pocket, followed by a ring.
“Answer if you’d like,” she said and gave him a quick peck. “Then I want you to take me to bed.” Where I will confess my love for you. After everything, it would be better if she showed him before she told him.
“No. Bed now. Actually, counter now. You’ll help me forget the past and remember I have a future.”
Before he could lift the hem of her shirt, her phone started ringing.
He sighed and straightened, then checked his phone. “Missed call. Beck.”
She checked hers. “Missed call. Beck.”
She gave him a little push, and just like before her mountain of a man remained in place. He dialed his friend. As the two men talked, she unbuttoned Jase’s pants. But the one-sided conversation soon captured her full attention, and she stilled.