What Janie Wants Page 10

  He sat back down. “I want to take your picture.”

  She blinked a few times. “Me?”

  “You. I want you to see through my eyes. Right where you are. Right now.”

  Her gaze flitted across the bed, the length of her body, the open skylight.

  “Nothing lewd, I promise.” There had to be something to say. A nudge to get her over the hump. “I need this.”

  She stared at him for long seconds.

  He fisted one hand and squeezed it with the other. Maybe showing her with pictures was too much. He’d go the sexual oblivion route and come up with something—

  “Okay.”

  His heart stopped then jolted back into rhythm. “Okay?”

  She nodded, a cautious, tiny dip of her chin that showed how carefully he’d have to tread.

  “Okay.” Relief. Sweet fucking relief. He stood and rubbed his hands together, feet itching to move. “Stay right there. Let me get my camera.”

  “Are you going to put any clothes on?”

  “Why? You’re naked. Besides, looking at you gives me a semi, so I’d just have to take my clothes off again when we’re done.” He rummaged through the bottom dresser drawer, and the sheets rustled behind him. “Don’t move.”

  Her giggle floated down to him. “It was my legs. Surely I can wiggle a little.”

  “You wiggle a lot while you sleep.” He prepped in smooth practiced movements, a second-nature checklist clicking through his head. Surprising, considering the adrenaline blasting through his bloodstream.

  “Are you complaining?”

  “Never.” He turned and froze. He’d paid so damned much attention to her face and the sexy arch of her lips, he hadn’t stopped to consider this angle. The sheet draped from the highest curve of her hip to just above her perfect ass, and her hair fell in tight, waterfall waves across her shoulders.

  Light. Focus. Shoot.

  The camera whirred and her muscles clenched. “Zade?”

  “It’s okay.” His voice rumbled a half-octave lower than normal. “Your hips are beautiful.” Click. “The line of your spine makes me want to touch you. The way the sheet’s wrapped around you makes me want to dip my hand beneath it and explore.”

  Her head shifted enough to bring her elegant profile into the picture, her eyes downcast and wary. “Is that how you draw the women in your photos out? Tell them what you see?”

  He rounded the foot of the bed, camera lowered. “Have I told them they’re beautiful? Absolutely. But I’ve never crossed the line and told them I wanted contact because it’s never happened. To get the truth out of them, to draw them out, they have to have the truth from me.”

  She bit her lip, and he whipped the camera into place on reflex.

  Click.

  Too late. Her gaze was glued to the bed, the raw expression shuttered. “Need you to look at me, Janie. Look past the camera. See me. Forget it’s there and focus on me.”

  Her fingers smoothed back and forth on the pillow near her face. “I feel a little self-conscious.”

  “You didn’t feel self-conscious last night.”

  A crooked smile. Pretty white teeth. Head tilted and eyes glazed. Perfect.

  Click.

  Her gaze whipped to the camera, and the smile slipped.

  “Look through it, babe. I’m right here.” He kept the camera in place and shifted his angle, bracing a knee on the bed. “I mentioned trust, yeah?”

  She nodded, some of her wariness slipping away.

  “I’d never lie to you, but I could have cleared something up the first day we went sailing. I was afraid to point out something you’d misunderstood because I thought it would give you a chance to run.”

  She cocked her head, and a lock of hair fell across her chest, dipping into the valley between her breasts.

  Click. Click.

  “I don’t live in California. That’s only where the company that bought my business is from.”

  “Oh.” She pursed her mouth and her gaze slid sideways. “Then where are you from?”

  Focus, check. “I’ve got a condo in Uptown Dallas.”

  Wide eyes. Surprise. A quick flush on her cheeks and across her collarbone and so much longing, it moved something inside him.

  Hope.

  Click. Click. Click.

  He lowered the camera. It was still there. Guarded, but still there, brightening her hazel eyes so they bordered on pale teal. He checked the last three shots. Yep. Even on the tiny screen he could see it. And if he could see it, so could she.

  That was it. The key.

  He lifted the camera back into place. “I thought you’d be angry.”

  She opened her mouth, shut it, and opened it again. “I can’t.” Her gaze drifted to the sheets.

  “Eyes to me, babe.”

  A scowl marred the spot between her eyebrows. “You should have told me.”

  “I should have. But you’re not mad?”

  One corner of her mouth quirked. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Such a pretty smile. Easy and accepting. “Because you’re right. I would’ve run.”

  “But you wouldn’t run now?”

  Her smile slipped and her lips parted. “No.”

  Click.

  “Roll over on your stomach.” God, he hoped this worked. If it didn’t, even weeks of sexual oblivion wouldn’t be enough to give him another chance.

  She studied him, the energy around her shifting to something sharp and cautious, but pushed the pillow out of her way and shifted so her arms were crooked above her head. “Like this?”

  “Almost.” He kneeled on the bed, keeping a forty-five degree angle on the line of her body. “Now push back on your hands and knees.”

  She stayed completely still, her voice little more than a whisper. “Zade.”

  He lifted the camera. “Can you trust me, Janie?”

  The only movement was the slow, minuscule rise of her shoulders with each breath.

  A painful, razor-lined fist seemed to grip his heart, and he fought to keep the shot free of the fear shaking his hands.

  Slowly, she slid her hands to either side of her chest, palms whispering across the smooth sheets. Her hair fell in a heavy wave and covered her face. “I trust you.”

  Power blasted through him, a rush headier than the one bungee jump he’d dared in college and ten times as addictive. “Thank you.” It seemed a lame thing to say, but necessary. An acknowledgement of her gift.

  “What now?”

  Shit. He needed his head in the game or he’d fuck this whole thing up. “Sweep your hair over to one side so I can see the line of your neck. That’s it. Just like that.”

  “I don’t think I can look at the camera like this.”

  “It’s okay. It’s fine like this for now.” Hell, it was better. He’d get her eyes when the time was right. “Right now I want you to think. Close your eyes and imagine my lips on your shoulder.”

  Her head tipped back an inch, and her lips parted on a small inhalation.

  Click.

  “Where do you want them now?” he said.

  She angled her head to one side, practically drawing him a map. “My neck.”

  He chuckled, snapping random shots with each subtle shift. “Remember what I said about your spine?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  Fighting back his groan nearly cost him his tongue. He loved that husky, floating voice of hers. How she seemed to let go and get lost in the moment. Watching it was even better. “If I were behind you right now, I’d urge your knees further apart, cover your back and work my lips down every inch of it.”

  She groaned and pushed back, angling her hips up and stretching her arms out in front of her.

  Jesus, God Almighty, he was gonna come from the visual alone. She was in the moment. Now was the time for the shot. “Janie?”

  “Mmmm.”

  “There’s nothing I like more than touching you.” He snapped shots at will. “Making you feel good. Tasting
you. Hearing the little noises you make.” He paused, letting her ride whatever thoughts and scenarios were in her head. “Look at me, babe. Let me see your eyes.”

  She gazed over one shoulder, eyelids heavy with passion.

  He focused on the elegant angle of her jaw and the delicate curve of her shoulder. “I don’t want this to end. I want to let this play out when we get home. Feel more. Grow more.”

  Click. Click. Click. Click.

  Fear. Need. Longing. Hope. They all played out for the camera, raw and so blatant, he felt them like a knife.

  He tossed the camera to the bed and nudged her knees wide, like he’d promised. “You want it too.” He kissed the spot she liked where her neck and shoulder met and worked his way toward her spine. “I saw it, Janie.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “It’s as simple as we make it.” He pulled her hips to his and sat back on his heels, pulling her upright, her back to his front. He skimmed her rib cage. Teased the sensitive undersides of her breasts. “I like making you laugh. Talking to you. Sleeping next to you, even when you wiggle. We can have that. More. See where it goes.”

  Her head dropped forward. “I can’t have kids. Even if I physically could, I don’t think I’d be up for it emotionally.”

  Kids. Jesus, he hadn’t even thought of that. But didn’t the fact that he’d never so much as imagined normal family life say something in itself?

  “Babe.” He guided her chin to where he could watch her face. “Some guys want the text book, but that’s not me. I’ve never once imagined myself with a nine to five and two point five prescribed kids. I want to explore. Live. See things. If I want to share love with a kid, there are a shit ton of ways I can do that without my woman getting pregnant.”

  She gasped and her nails bit into his thighs. “You can’t mean that.”

  “Do I strike you as the average guy?”

  “No.” Oh, those big eyes. So cute. Guileless and sincere. He liked them heavy with lust better.

  He slid his hand up her inner thigh. “Does that mean you’re going to agree and let us see where this goes?”

  “I need…” She swallowed and widened her knees, eyes sliding shut. “I need to think about it.”

  “Hmmm.” He teased the tight curls above her pussy. “Thought we’d established thinking’s overrated. Go with your gut. What’s it say?”

  “It says you’re a devious strategist with wicked fingers and a beautiful voice.”

  The woman was out of her fucking mind. His voice wasn’t beautiful, hers was. Throaty and made for tempting men until they groveled. He rubbed his cheek against hers, his morning stubble reddening her creamy skin. “Then you know it’s best to agree now and save yourself the trouble.”

  “Zade.” She wiggled her ass against his aching cock and gripped his wrists. “Talk later. Touch now.”

  “Bossy.” He dipped his finger between her legs, tracing the seam where her inner thigh met her core. “Say yes and I’ll give you what you want.”

  She dug her head into his shoulder, arching her neck and back so her perfect tits begged for attention.

  He teased the delicate tip of one with his free hand, circling the tight nipple. “Say it, babe. At least tell me you’ll think about it.”

  “Okay.”

  Quick. Too quick. He pressed his cock against her ass. “Seriously, Janie. No lip service. You admit you want this, and we’ll talk it out.”

  She covered his hand at her breast with hers and urged him to squeeze the tight mound. “Yes. Seriously.” She cupped the other neglected breast and opened her eyes, gaze lingering on the sensual image. “Please. Now.”

  Hell, yes.

  He gave her what she wanted, priming her with his fingers and tweaking her nipple in the same rhythm. “This is right. Swear to God, Janie. It’s perfect.”

  She leaned forward, planting her hands in the mattress and offering her pretty pink pussy in the most delectable pose ever.

  He splayed his hand at the small of her back, deepening the arch. “Need my cock?”

  “Yes.”

  His dick jerked in agreement and his thighs clenched. He lined himself up, savoring her smooth ass. “Gonna remind you how perfect this is. Make sure you can’t forget.”

  He rammed home and her head whipped back, her hair spilling across her back like fire. Heat engulfed him, her moist, tight channel trembling around his aching shaft to the point he thought he’d lose his fucking sight. God, this woman was special. His. For how long he didn’t know, but fuck, he was gonna hang on as long as he could.

  He shuttled deep, hands clasped at her hips, skin slapping against skin, and dirty, animalistic sounds rumbling around them. “Hands between your legs. Finger that sweet clit and bring us both off.”

  She moaned and answered with quick, nimble circles.

  “That’s it,” he whispered. Almost there. Her pussy tightened and he angled downward, nudging the spot along her front wall. His balls were high and taut. Ready. So damned ready. “Come on, Janie. Give me—”

  Her shout rang out and her sex fisted him in a brutal grip, scalding contractions that undulated up and down his shaft.

  Every muscle wrenched tight and pleasure speared from his groin to the ends of hair. His cock jerked and flexed inside her, filling her. Marking her. Claiming her.

  His.

  He covered her back with his chest, hips rocking against hers as they leveled off. Their skin was slippery with sweat and her heartbeat reverberated in a rhythm similar to his. He cupped her mound and reveled in the slick glide of his release against her swollen lips. She couldn’t change her mind. He wouldn’t let her. No way was he letting her run.

  Janie wiggled her toes, and the dried sand from her walk along the beach with Zade crumbled to the lounger cushion. The only place bearable in the three o’clock heat was napping in an air-conditioned room, in the water, or beachside and in the shade, like she was right now.

  Only one more full day before time to head home, and most of it without Zade since his flight left at some insane hour the next morning.

  Funny. She’d imagined coming here, isolating herself from humanity, and making peace with the prospect of a lonely future. Now she couldn’t imagine being here without Zade, didn’t want the quiet, and was entertaining the exact opposite of an anticlimactic life. Destiny just kept doling out surprises.

  Zade stretched in the lounger beside her and let out an indelicate man-yawn. He took advantage of the nearly non-existent space between their chairs and slid his leg closer to hers, knocking more sand to the cushion with his none-to-subtle game of footsie. “Thought you were going to take a nap.”

  Oh, that voice. The just woken, sleep-sexy voice. Deep and a little gravelly. Intimate because the only time she heard it was first thing in the morning after snuggling with him all night. She could have more of that. Assuming she’d pull her big girl panties up long enough to glom onto it. “My mind was too busy.”

  “Mmmm.” He rolled to his side and lifted her chair back enough to unhinge the lever propping her up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Helping.” He eased the top half down to match his lounger’s supine position. Reaching across her, he grabbed the side of her chair and tugged so the two were flush, then wrapped her up, their legs tangled and his torso perpendicular with hers. “Figured a little anchor for those thoughts of yours might be in order.”

  “But what if I don’t want to lie down?”

  One of his arms rested across her chest, his hand idly stroking her shoulder. He slid it up toward her neck and traced her jawline with his thumb. “Then I’d find another way to anchor you. Whatever it takes.”

  This was what she wanted for her kids. Partners who looked out for them and weren’t so strung up in their own heads, they never bothered to care for anyone else. How ironic that Zade was offering her that very thing and she couldn’t seem to find the courage to dive in headfirst.

  He nuzzled the side of he
r neck, comforting more than seductive. “You want to talk about it?”

  There it was again. Thoughtful and pragmatic, not to mention off the charts sexy. If she was seriously going to consider a relationship with this man, she’d be smart to talk to him and see how well they worked through issues.

  A laugh huffed out of her strong enough to jostle his arm on her chest. “Just wrapping my head around the word relationship after ending a twenty-two year marriage is challenging enough. Imagining how we’d face one as unconventional as ours has me in a mind freeze.”

  “So, we try it on. Talk through some scenarios.” He propped himself up on an elbow and smoothed a stray lock of hair off her neck. “Shoot. Give me one.”

  “Okay.” Didn’t it figure? She’d had one thought after another ping around her head for the last hour. Now when she needed one, not a damned one poked its head up. “How about if we start on your side?”

  “Like?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’d like an idea of what your life is like away from here. Do you work a lot? Volunteer? Go to a lot of parties?”

  “Parties?”

  “Yeah.” She shrugged. It seemed a silly question, now that she’d said it out loud. “Every time Thomas comes home from college he heads out to one party or another. You might have five years on him, but you’re still in the same age bracket.”

  “I guess I get together with friends now and then, yeah.”

  “So what are they like?” she said. “Is it like the pool party yesterday?”

  “Did it seem like my kind of scene?”

  Attire and demeanor wise, no. He’d been more of a casual professional, where they’d been carefree tank tops and bikinis. He’d kept to the less boisterous tables and quite literally carted her out of the chaos as fast as he could. “No, but you were friends with them before I showed up. I assumed that might be how your life is at home.”

  He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes.

  Seriously? How could he not get it? “You were playing football, remember? My knee, your nuts?”

  He smiled wide and fast, almost as blinding as the sun flashing off the rippling water in the cove. “Babe, that was more man code, boredom, and sucking up for Arlo than my idea of a good time. Never thought I’d say I was glad a woman busted my balls, but in this case, best accident ever.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.