Love Me Anyway by Jennifer Probst
Chapter Seven
Julianna opened the door,and threw her bag on the couch. With a sigh of relief, she kicked off her black heels and made her way into the bedroom. It was past ten, and she expected Jack soon. She’d have to tell him the truth. They couldn’t continue sleeping together if she began seriously dating someone, especially the man who might be her future husband. She thought about keeping the information to herself, but it wasn’t fair to either of them.
She loosened the pins holding up her hair and shook the heavy length free. Her fingers rubbed her sensitive scalp in a quick massage, then reached for the small Tiffany lamp.
“You’re late.”
Julianna gasped and whirled around. Over six feet of coiled male muscle stood in the corner of the room. Hands crossed over his chest. His usual attire of worn T-shirt and faded jeans clung to his body. His feet were bare.
“You scared me! How did you get in? I locked the door.”
“You need new locks. I told you to be ready and waiting for me.” His gaze raked over her figure, taking in her black skirt and frilly floral blouse that left her arms bare. Temper flared like a pissed off stallion, then eased as he seemed to blow it off. “Where were you?”
She nibbled at her lower lip. “On a date.”
He pushed himself away from the wall and stalked toward her. “Have fun?”
“Jack, we can’t do this anymore.”
He stopped in front of her. Reached out to snag a long dark curl, then twisted it slowly around his finger. The scent of musk and whiskey and grass assaulted her senses. “Why not?”
She shifted her feet like a nervous filly in heat. “Because he’s everything I’m looking for,” she blurted out. Heat rose to her cheeks as she fought to look him straight in the eye. Julianna hated being ashamed for selling herself for a price, but she’d do it with her chin up and refuse to flinch from the truth. “We’re going to see where this leads.”
“Good for you. But you’re date’s over. You’re mine now.”
Her heart slammed against her chest so hard she heard it over the drone of crickets drifting from the open window. “But I thought—”
He used the pressure on her hair to guide her head back and loomed over her. Resolve glimmered from his eyes. “You thought wrong. Until you marry or I leave town, you belong to me at night. Get used to it.”
He covered her mouth with his. Warm lips probed hers, then surged in, his velvet tongue coaxing her to play. She moaned as her body flamed and kissed him back. When he raised his head, his face was triumphant. “Do we understand each other?”
She was too weak to speak so she managed a nod.
“Good. Now, take off your clothes and put these on.” He walked over to the bed and handed her two scraps of black lace. “You have five minutes. After that, I’m coming in.”
He pushed her toward the bathroom door and Julianna obeyed. She held up the outfit and felt a mingle of fear and excitement shimmy down her spine. She’d never worn sexy lingerie, let alone parade herself in front of a lover. The thought of exposing herself caused her belly to clench, but the clock was ticking and she didn’t want him to come after her. She quickly stripped and squeezed into the contraption. A sheer black lace thong barely covered her mound, and the top was a matching bra, except the bra part seemed to be missing. Her breasts squeezed and spilled into the empty holes where the padding should be, emphasizing the high thrust and ruby red nipples.
“One minute.”
His commanding voice drove her to open the door before she chickened out and begged for mercy. She walked slowly into the dimly lit room and tried to keep her head held high. She felt his eyes as a caress on every exposed inch of skin and the anticipation spiked her arousal. The musky scent of her juices drifted in the air.
“Beautiful. Your body was meant to be exposed, not hidden under layers of bulky clothing.” He tossed her a pair of black spike heels. “Put these on.” Julianna bent and slipped her feet into the shoes. He murmured his approval. “Now, turn around. Slow.”
Heat flushed her skin in humiliation but she did as told, spinning around in a circle as she felt cool air hit her ass like a kiss. She wanted his hands all over her, greedy and demanding and messy. She wanted no shred of civilization or propriety—just the sheer lust of a man who wanted to possess every crevice of her body.
“Good girl. Now, I want you to put your hands against that wall and spread your legs.”
“Jack—”
“Don’t make me say it again.”
She flinched, then settled herself against the wall. Her fingers clenched and her knees trembled slightly as she sought balance in the high heels. A rustle sounded behind her. A rush of his scent. Then warm, strong hands stroking back her hair and coasting down her spine, as if soothing a wild mare. She moaned deep and her skin heated; sensitized. He kept his touch gentle, tracing each vertebrate, curved buttocks, and the tops of her thighs. He slipped a hand between her legs to push her thighs farther apart, then tested her wetness.
Julianna gritted her teeth against the pull of those talented fingers, as he teased her pink bud and coaxed more moisture to drip over his hand, then used it to lubricate her further, testing the limits of her control. She arched back in pure need, desperate for those fingers to push deep inside and then—
A sharp slap echoed in the room. She cried out at the hard sting on her bottom, then wiggled as the slight pain hit, followed by a rush of heat and pleasure. She lifted her hands from the wall and tried to turn.
“Hands on the wall, Julianna. Don’t move again.”
Her arms shook but she resumed position. A wildness soared through her veins as she realized she had no control over what he could or would do to her. His hands drifted upward to play with her breasts. One finger traced the delicate lace around her areolas, scraping the fabric against her rigid nipples. Julianna fought for breath as his thumbs pinched, rolled, and worked the hard tips until they poked out in demand. He continued the caress and lulled her into a sensuous cocoon.
Smack.
She flinched as his hand came down hard on her naked ass. Julianna made sure to block her initial reaction of retreat and kept her hands on the wall. A low growl of satisfaction rumbled against her ear, and suddenly she felt him gloriously naked and pressed against her back, his huge erection settling between her thighs. “Good girl. You deserve a reward.” He took off her thong, bent, and lifted her leg up, hooking her thigh over his arm. Fully exposed now, he used his other hand to push his fingers between her swollen folds to rub steadily back and forth. Pleasure squeezed her mercilessly as she strained for release. At the edge, she bucked her hips, and suddenly he ripped her away from the wall, bent her over his knee and smacked her ass with force.
Burning pain flooded her backside, then released another rush of juices. Once, twice, the punishing sting of his hand made her cry out. Before she caught her breath, he plunged four fingers into her, hitting her g-spot, and pushed her over the edge.
Julianna screamed and came hard, all the muscles in her body tightening and then convulsing with sheer pleasure. She slumped over his knee as he stroked her back and murmured soothing words in her ear. He gathered her into his arms and laid her on the bed, sliding next to her and pushing back her sweat-dampened hair. “You’re amazing,” he whispered in her ear, his teeth nibbling on her sensitive lobe. “I have so much I want to teach you, love. But I’m not done yet.”
“I can’t.” Sated and limp, her eyelids felt heavy, but he shushed her and began to bring her back up. His fingers coasted with gentleness, and she felt wrapped in a cocoon of warmth as she floated. Incredibly, her body tightened again, waiting for more, wanting him, and he sheathed himself with a condom and plunged into her heat.
He stroked her with his cock, long and deep, building to a slow and steady rhythm that drove her already wrecked body to the final culmination. She climaxed again and with a hoarse shout, he followed her over the brink.
When Julianna surfaced, she found him sprawled halfway on top of her, one leg holding her down to the bed as if afraid she’d escape. She wiggled to a more comfortable position and he let out a groan, then rolled over.
“I think you killed me,” she said. She stretched one leg out, then another and wriggled her toes, still clad in stilettos.
“Part of my evil plan to keep you to myself.”
Julianna hesitated, unsure if he was joking. But he leaned over to drop a kiss on her nose, and gave her a smile. “Where did you learn to do all that?”
Jack laughed. “Let’s just say I’m glad you’re the beneficiary of my practice.”
She lay her head on his chest and wondered how she was able to give this man such a raw, honest response. She barely knew him. Julianna ached to ask a thousand questions, but fought the instinct and tried for casual. “What imported you from England to our humble town?”
He stilled beneath her. Jack remained silent for a few moments as if deciding how much to share. “My family owns a business and they want me to take over. I’m not ready to settle down yet, so I took off with my boat to do some traveling. Meet new people.”
Peter Pan syndrome. Just as she thought. “What did your parents think of your decision?”
“My father died recently, so it’s just my mom. She agreed to give me the time I need for myself.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know about your dad. Were you close?”
“Yes. We didn’t agree on certain issues, but he taught me how to sail. Taught me to be a man and take care of the things and people I love. I miss him every damn day.”
Her arms tightened around him and for a little while, she felt completely connected to the boy inside who just wanted his father back. “What’s your mom like?” she asked.
“Tough. Doesn’t let me get away with anything. Keeps the household and family together. Doesn’t take any crap.”
Julianna laughed. “A woman who gets the job done. Someone I can respect.”
“Was your mom always sick?”
She sighed, trailing her fingers down his chest. “When I was little, we had some great moments. She was spontaneous and fun and loving. She’d wake me up late at night and we’d sneak outside to lie on a blanket and look at the stars. She cooked fabulous six course meals with sparkling china and fresh flowers. We dressed up in princess gowns and ate like royalty. I lived for those moments, but they came less often. I mostly remember not having lunch for school, or her forgetting to pick me up after a birthday party, or waiting outside her door because she spent days in her bedroom crying.”
“Who took care of you?”
She shrugged. “My dad. We had a few nannies but they never stayed. Dad liked his privacy, especially since we never knew what mom would do. It became easier for me to take care of things. It was difficult for them when I went away at college my first year, so I ended up leaving at the end of the semester and finished my degree online.”
“In poetry?”
“English literature with a concentration in poetry. I wanted to teach college, but for a full-time faculty job I’d need a PhD so I’m an adjunct."
He grinned. “The first time I met you I thought, professor or accountant.”
She made a face. “I know. I’m boring. Always was.”
He grasped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. Temper rippled from his figure, as if her last words irritated him. “What do you love so much about poetry?”
No one had ever truly asked her the question. Her father waved it off as a harmless hobby, and her friends had told her it wasn’t practical. She tried to put it into words he could understand. “When I was young, I stumbled upon Leaves of Grass by Whitman. It was so alive, as if each word danced off the page, and the stanzas together created a mystery I wanted to solve.” A smile touched her lips at the memory of that young girl so full of hope and dreams. “I began to read anything I could get my hands on. When my mom had her episodes, I’d retreat to the poets and feel as if my emotions were theirs—it was a great release for me.”
Embarrassed at her admission, she cleared her throat and backtracked. “Of course, I was young then. As I grew older, I realized poetry was a critical element of literature students needed to study.”
“No, don’t do that. Don’t back down now.”
Startled, she stared at him. A frown creased his brow. “I don’t understand.”
“You hide your true feelings. Pretend you don’t care.” She fell silent, not sure what he wanted from her. “What's your favorite poem?”
Julianna blinked. “I have many. Whitman, Moore, Sexton, Lawrence—”
“Recite the first one that comes to mind.”
She hesitated, then spoke slowly, as the last stanzas took shape.
Kiss but then the dust from off my lips,
But draw the turgid pain
From my breast to your bosom, eclipse
My soul again.
Waste me not, I beg you, waste
Not the inner night:
Taste, oh taste and let me taste
The core of delight.
Her breath caught as the sheer vulnerability of her poetic confession shook her. God, she’d practically confirmed her helpless need for his continued touch.
“What is it called?” he asked with a husky drawl.
“‘Liaison.’ D. H. Lawrence.” She forced a small laugh. “I thought it was appropriate with our situation.”
Raw emotion flickered over his face. “Out of all the poems, you picked one with physical passion. Openness. And truth.” He ran his finger gently down her check. “Don’t ever tell me you’re boring again, love.”
Entranced by his intensity, she lost her footing and gazed at him like a love-struck teenager. Jack continued with his questions. “So, you’ve never really left this house?”
It took a moment for her to regain her balance. “No. I was able to teach a few night courses for money here and there, but my father needed full-time care.”
“Did you ever just want to run away from it all?”
Julianna caught a wistfulness in his tone, an underlying question that seemed more serious than he posed. A thousand regrets and wants and dreams raced through her mind, then settled. “Yes. But I chose to stay. I made a promise to my father and I intend to keep it.”
“Even at the expense of yourself?”
Her fingers stilled on his chest. “Yes,” she said softly. “Even at the expense of myself.”
“What did you promise?”
“Nothing important.” She rolled off the bed, kicked off the shoes, and grabbed a long terry cloth robe. “Are you hungry?”
He watched her cover up her nakedness and firmly belt the sash. “For food?”
God, he was gorgeous. All lean muscle and tawny skin. He reminded her of a predator temporarily sated, but his eyes still gleamed with lazy warning, reminding her he could strike at any time. Heat speared down her belly and her thighs clenched in anticipation. “Yes, food. I worked up an appetite.”
“Sure. But I’m not done with you yet.”
Julianna shivered at the delicious threat and led him into the kitchen.