She could have this man in front of her, though, if only for a short time. If he wanted her.
“Is it true you were only worried about how it would look if you asked me to sleep in your bed?” she asked him, her entire body shaking with her pulse. Jesus Christ, no one had ever made her feel like this. No one. This hope, this giddy expectation that ran so much deeper than sexual need—though the sexual need was certainly potent enough. There was a heavy magnet low in her stomach, and it was begging to draw him in. She slid her bare thighs against each other. She wore only panties and an extra-long Misfits T-shirt that had belonged to some old forgotten boyfriend but was still her favorite thing to sleep in. The soft fabric chafed against her tightening nipples. They missed the heat of his mouth, ached to feel it again.
“Darlin’,” he said, and his hand left hers to travel up and stroke featherlight over her cheek, “it’s been all I could do not to carry you in here with me. But you’re vulnerable right now. You don’t need me adding to that.”
Vulnerable. Not exactly the way she’d ever heard herself described before. Not exactly the way she wanted to think of herself. He saw a different side of her—he saw the person she was always trying to hide from the world. “I’m only vulnerable to you if you plan to hurt me,” she whispered, and waited for the lie, any lie.
The lies that all men tell. I’ll never hurt you. I’m not going anywhere. You’re the only one. I love you.
“I can’t promise I’ll never disappoint you or let you down. I can promise I’ll try my damnedest not to.” Those gently stroking fingers grew more firm, holding her face as he spoke next. “But I will never hurt you, and neither will anyone else, if I have to give my last breath to stop them.”
A chill went through her as she thought of Max and the threat he posed. Was she insane to let Jared involve himself like this? Of course, there was no “letting” Jared do anything. Jared was going to do what he damn well pleased.
Somehow, even though the words he’d said included a common lie, she knew his were the truth. Maybe it was because she and Jared, from the very night they met, had begun from a place of brutal honesty—he saw her fuckups, he knew her ridiculous infatuation. She saw his guilt and his inability to let go of his past love. They were well acquainted with each other’s truths. How could either of them lie to the other?
Or maybe she was just stupid.
“It makes me really nervous for you to say that,” she said.
“Don’t be. Soon it will all be over.”
“And that’s even worse.” But she couldn’t even imagine how wonderful it would be for everything to go back to normal. Except… “After it’s all over, what then?”
“Are you talking about us?”
She nodded. “Am I here because you want to help me, or is it more than that?”
“More,” he said without hesitation. “Definitely more.”
“I was afraid all this might have changed your mind.”
“It hasn’t.”
“So you still want to keep seeing me?”
“Starla, you’re here now, aren’t you? You wouldn’t be if I didn’t want you to be. Yes, I want to keep seeing you.”
“I suppose we’re doing things backwards, living together before we’ve seriously dated. Your family and friends will wonder what the hell you’re thinking.”
“They can kiss my ass. This is our business, not theirs.”
Starla sighed and concentrated on his soothing touch for a while. “It’s strange to think the police could catch him any time. I mean, it could be over tomorrow.”
“It’s okay to be optimistic.”
“I’m scared to death they won’t hold him. That they’ll question him and he’ll have an alibi, or some fucked-up thing like that.” It made her skin crawl to think he was out there, somewhere, right now. He was free, and Brian was imprisoned in that hospital bed.
“I know it’s hard, but try not to worry. Just sleep, honey. You need it. No bad dreams.”
“No bad dreams,” she repeated and, despite her body’s earlier signals, felt drowsiness creeping in. The need for sleep was winning out over the need for sex, something she never thought would happen. She must be getting old, and she didn’t even care.
It wasn’t nightmares that plagued her once she fell asleep beside him. Her tumultuous desire followed her into her dreams, creating feverish images of him touching her, kissing her, sliding over her, sliding inside her. So real, so sweet—when she was shaken awake, it was as if her favorite song had stopped in the middle of her favorite part. Blinking, she stared up into his face, remembering that hateful nightmare from before and praying this wasn’t another one.
“Are you all right?” he asked huskily. He must have been asleep himself. “You were moaning.”