CHAPTER SIX
JESSE STORMED INTO HIS office, closing the door with enough force to rattle the frames on the wall. One fell to the ground, the glass shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces.
Like his marriage. Like him, without Desiree.
Fury grabbed him by the throat. He reached for the bottle of Crown Royal—ha, ha—that Dakota had given him for his birthday this year. His sixty-fourth birthday. Christ, when had he gotten so damn old?
He poured himself a finger, tossed it back like water. Poured two fingers this time and settled into his desk chair to brood. Despite the silver liberally sprinkling his hair and the deep grooves near his eyes, he didn’t feel sixty-four. His body still worked the way it was supposed to—his back was strong, his mind agile. But recently time seemed to be creeping up on him and he had begun to wonder how much of it he had left.
There were so many things he hadn’t done yet, things he’d put off as he chased after Big John’s dream, after Desiree’s dream. A dream that seemed more impossible and less important with every season that passed.
Desiree didn’t understand. Maybe she couldn’t—at forty-nine, time hadn’t started ticking away from her in the same way it suddenly had for him. Maybe it never would. As young and as vibrant as she’d ever been, Desiree rolled over every obstacle in her path. Getting older wasn’t important, didn’t have anything to do with her goals for the ranch, so she didn’t pay attention to it or even acknowledge it.
He took another sip of his drink, savoring the warmth spreading through him. He’d been cold for so long that the sudden fire felt like heaven. Fire from the liquor. Fire from Desiree.
She was a mess—more shell-shocked and upset than he’d seen her in years. Of course, that wouldn’t last long. And when the shock wore off she’d come gunning for him in a way that made their earlier encounter look like a little girl’s tea party. Some small part of him almost looked forward to it.
Desiree. His loving wife, the mother of his children. Why the hell hadn’t she said something when he’d moved out of their room eight months before? Or if not then, then anytime during the ensuing months? A little open communication, a small expression of concern, anything, really, and he would have run back to her and tried to make things better. Tried to be a better trainer, a better husband. That was the power she had over him, the power she’d always had.
Despair swept through him, though he cursed himself for being an idiot, a moron, a stupid fool. After thirty-three years, the independent horse trainer who’d shown up here knowing he was the best was long gone. In his place was a much more humble man, one who’d tasted failure too many times to think he had all the answers. These days, much of his self-worth was tied to his feelings for Desiree, while much of hers was tied to her feelings for the ranch.
The glass flew across the room before he was conscious of throwing it. He watched impassively as the heavy crystal tumbler shattered against the big stone fireplace in the corner.
He’d failed her, damn it. He’d failed his children, failed the ranch and even failed her father, though the son-of-a-bitch was the only one who actually deserved it. But Desiree didn’t deserve it, had never deserved it, and neither had his kids. Though the Triple Crown had never meant much to his children, he’d wanted one of his horses to win it for them. So they could have their father back. So he wouldn’t have to work so hard to win something that was nearly impossible.
So they could have their mother back.
Every season that passed without the crown saw Desiree working harder, longer, more determined than ever to prove that she deserved this ranch. As if anyone had ever doubted her capability. But Desiree didn’t see the admiration in the faces of her employees, or the awe directed at her from so many in the racing community as her horses won race after important race.
Unable to bear the stillness of inactivity a second longer, Jesse stood to pace. He was still too wound up to face the others, still too raw to face his wife.
He grimaced. His soon-to-be ex-wife. Had he been stupid to think divorce was the only answer? God knew he still loved Desiree, still wanted her, still needed her as much as, if not more than, he had all those years ago when she’d been too young and too beautiful for him.
* * *
HE’D WALKED OUT ON her again.
In the thirty-three years she’d known Jesse, he’d never treated her with even a hint of disrespect. Now, today, he’d managed to heap a mountain of it on her—not once but twice.
She stared around the maternity barn in disbelief. Was she really that bad? Had she really done everything he’d accused her of? She’d shared the ranch—of course she had. She was in the position to know, better than anyone, just how much the Triple H needed Jesse. Without him these last few decades, they’d be so much less than what they were.
She knew how to be a partner—
She cut off the train of thought abruptly, refusing to give Jesse the power to make her second-guess herself any more than she already had. Even so, she was left with the same question that had been running through her head for the past few hours. What happened now?
“Are you okay, Mom?”
She jumped at the unexpected voice, whirled around to find herself face-to-face with her oldest son. Rio. Love swept through her, even as she sought to hide her anguish. Rio was, and always had been, their most perceptive and compassionate child. Not to mention the best veterinarian the Triple H had ever employed.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just thinking.”
“About Willow?” he asked, as he slipped an arm around her shoulders in a quick hug. Despite his embrace, she sensed a distance between them. It was a distance she herself had put there, one she’d had cause to regret almost every day for the past nine years. She’d made one mistake too many with her oldest child and now she was paying the consequences. They all were.
“About change.” She smiled, laid a hand on his cheek. “I love you.”
His eyes grew shadowed, his voice cooler. “I love you, too, Mom. But that doesn’t explain why you look so sad.”
She shrugged, turning her head away before he could study her anymore. What could she say to him? I’m sad because your father hates me? Because he handed me divorce papers today and wasted no time telling me how much contempt he has for me? Because you don’t love me the way you used to and I don’t know how to fix all the mistakes that I’ve made? Somehow, she didn’t think that was the best way to approach Rio, let alone explain the divorce to their three children.
The divorce. Had she just thought about it as if it was a foregone conclusion? As if there were no other options, nothing left to fight for? And why should she have to explain the divorce at all—Jesse was the one who wanted it. Let him explain to their children that he no longer loved her. Let him come up with a good reason to explain bailing out of a twenty-seven year marriage. Let him…
She stopped abruptly. Unless he already had a good reason. Unless he already had her replacement lined up. Could that be it? Did Jesse have another woman?
Nausea rose, nearly choking her, but logic couldn’t be denied. It made sense, would explain his absence in her bed and the sudden urgency of his demands. How could she have missed it?
“Mom?” Rio interrupted her musings.
With a conscious effort she pushed the thoughts away, forcing herself to focus on her son instead of the horror cutting through her. “Did you come to check out M.C.?” she asked.
“Yeah. Before I have to change into the monkey suit James picked out for us.” He opened the medical bag at his feet, pulled out his stethoscope. “How’s she doing?”
“Your dad thinks she’ll foal today, tomorrow at the latest.”
Rio crouched down and ran his big, gentle hands along the mare’s belly before listening with his stethoscope. His concentration was intense, his dark brown eyes far away as he examined one of his favorite patients.
Desiree watched as he rolled up his sleeves, treating the mare tenderly. Desiree had done something right in the past twenty-seven years, something to be proud of. And he was standing right in front of her. He had inherited his father’s gift and used it in the best possible way. It was hard to believe she’d ever objected to his chosen profession.
“Looks like Dad’s right,” he commented as he finished his examination. “As usual.”
He crossed to the sink, washed up. “So has Willow completely lost her mind yet?”
“Not yet. But it’s close.”
“I can imagine.” He grinned. “It’s hard to believe the little brat’s actually getting married.”
Desiree smiled, nodded. “It’s hard to believe you three are all grown up, with lives of your own.”
“Change is good, Mom. Now maybe you and Dad can concentrate on something besides the ranch and us.”
She turned to stare into the wise eyes of her oldest child. “What’s that supposed to mean?’ She tried to sound carefree but knew she’d failed.
“I don’t have to live here to know something’s not right with you and Dad, you know. It’s written all over your face.”
Oh God. Did everyone see it? Had everyone known but her? Her mind raced to come up with an answer as she picked her way through her own confusion and hurt to explain things to her oldest son.
“Don’t worry about it, Mom. I’m not asking for a play-by-play of your problems. I just thought that, with the wedding over, you might be able to spend some time on them. You and Dad. A New Year’s resolution or something.”
“Is it so obvious, then?”
He fed M.C. a carrot from his pocket. He was quiet so long, she didn’t think he was going to answer. Then he said, “I don’t know. I just remember how things used to be. You know, when you and Dad were a team, instead of two people with separate agendas and separate lives.”
Those days haunted her. Days when Jesse couldn’t get enough of her—when he showed up wherever she was just to say hi, just to steal a kiss and a few minutes alone with her.
She sighed heavily as she reached a hand out to stroke her son’s hair. Those days were long gone, replaced by hours of anger, weeks of silence, months without making love.
Rio was right. Jesse was right. Somewhere, somehow, things had gone so terribly wrong. But she could still remember the day everything had first been set right.
Things have always come easy to me—some say I’ve been blessed while others claim I’ve lived a charmed life. In some ways, I guess they’re right. Everything I’ve ever wanted, I’ve gotten—either from my parents or through my own sheer, stubborn determination. There’s never been an obstacle I couldn’t go over or around, never been one that I couldn’t knock down.
Until Jesse. After Mama’s death, I expected things to change for us, expected our relationship to be different. It was different, all right. While my role remained the same—I still sought out Jesse at every opportunity—his role had changed. Suddenly he wanted nothing to do with me—the casual hugs disappeared, as did the late-night chats in the stables and the smiles that lit me up from the inside.
Oh, he stuck by me through Mama’s funeral, let me lean on him, let me take comfort and strength from him. But by the time I left for school—a few days after Mama’s funeral—he was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t even find him to say goodbye.
This pattern continued for the next two and a half years—as I finished my sophomore, junior and senior years in college. When I went home on school vacations, I rarely saw him—he always managed to be somewhere other than where I expected him to be. Somewhere away from me. That first year after Mama died was probably the worst of my life—not only had I lost my mother, but I’d lost my best friend as well. And I didn’t even know why.
As the months passed, I spent hours analyzing my last moments alone with Jesse. Spent hours wondering what I’d done wrong. Had I been too needy? Too inexperienced? Too forward? Too desperate? Too what? The questions haunted me, coloring my experiences with other men.
Not that I wanted another man. Jesse had been the only man I’d ever noticed from the time I was sixteen, and nothing had changed, despite his obvious discouragement. But I was determined. His rejection was merely one more challenge, one more obstacle on the road my life was supposed to follow. And as soon as I figured out what I had done to turn him away, I could fix it. Fix me. Until he couldn’t help but see me, want me, need me as much as I wanted and needed him.
Big John brought me home the day after my college graduation—he was the only one who came to the ceremony, as Jesse sent a very polite note declining my invitation to attend. A note that I ripped to pieces as I stormed around my one-bedroom apartment.
Daddy wanted to send me to Europe for a month as a graduation present—a present I declined. I’d already been away from the Triple H for far too long and I was desperate to be back. Desperate to work with the horses again and desperate to see Jesse, though I was deathly afraid he didn’t feel the same way about me.
But I was twenty-two, optimistic and reasonably attractive—I was what you might call a late-bloomer. I’d finally grown into my long limbs and big feet, had finally developed the confidence to wear my bright-red hair with pride rather than apology. More than that, I was determined. I’d never given up on anything I’d wanted in my whole life and I wasn’t about to start now—not with Jesse, who was more important to me than anyone on earth.
So I plotted and planned, using the time that Jesse was at races as a chance to get myself ready for the battle to come. It was my last stand, my final attack, and I refused to even imagine what life would be like if it didn’t work.
DESIREE STEPPED BACK and surveyed the apartment, excitement and nervousness warring within her as she put her plan into action. The changes she’d made to Jesse’s place were subtle but important. The lights were dimmed—she’d had to change the bulbs to get the desired effect—and her homemade Alfredo sauce simmered in the kitchen, filling the apartment with the tantalizing smells of garlic and cream. The salad was tossed, the pasta boiling and dessert was in the fridge, where a couple of bottles of truly excellent Chianti waited.
Music played in the background—Van Morrison crooning about his brown-eyed girl. Desiree had set the table for two, using dishes and a tablecloth she’d bought in college. Though the urge had been strong to decorate with flowers and candles, she’d fought against it. They were obvious, too obvious when she was hoping to sneak up on his blind side.
She smiled with satisfaction as she caught sight of herself in the mirror on the far wall. While she’d kept everything in the apartment understated, relaxed, she’d dressed with anything but subtlety in mind.
Her dress was red—bright, fire-engine red—as were the bra and panties beneath it. And while it had long sleeves and a modest neckline, it clung lovingly to her every curve. Her shoes were stilettos—impractical and sexy, they showed off her rider’s legs to great advantage.
She checked to make sure her hair and makeup were as close to perfection as she could get them. It was after eight o’clock and Jesse should be here any minute. He usually stopped working about this time every night, or at least took a break before heading back out. But if things went according to plan tonight, Jesse wouldn’t leave the apartment before morning. And neither would she.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs outside and panic crawled sickly through her stomach. This was it, her last chance. If he rejected her now…
Forcing any negative thoughts to the back of her mind, Desiree flew to the kitchen and stirred the sauce, trying desperately to look as normal as possible under the circumstances. As if it was normal for her to be cooking in Jesse’s house, dressed to the nines.
She heard the door open and his footsteps come to an abrupt halt. Taking a deep breath, she turned, smiling, to greet the man she was determined to spend the rest of her life with.
He was frowning, his eyes narrow and suspicious as he examined the small table set for two. His gaze met hers from across the room, anything but welcoming.
For a second her courage deserted her and she had to fight the urge to run as fast and as far as her skinny heels would carry her. Then she noticed the quick flicker in his eyes, the spark of desire that came and went so quickly she might have imagined it.
“Hey, Jesse.” She approached him.
“Desiree. What are you doing here?”
“We haven’t said more than ten words to each other since I got back from school a few months ago. I thought it was past time that we caught up.”
He raised an eyebrow sardonically. “Caught up, huh?”
She flushed. “Absolutely.” She gestured to the kitchen. “I made dinner. I thought we could talk while we ate.”
He stalked toward her. “What is it, exactly, that you want to talk about, Desiree?” His voice was low, unnerving.
She shrugged, forced a laugh, tried desperately to look and sound unconcerned. “You. The horses. The ranch. Whatever.”
This time both eyebrows rose. “Whatever?” He continued to cross the room with slow, deliberate steps.
She knew she should hold her ground, knew she shouldn’t let him see that he intimidated her. Still, she retreated. One step, then another and another, as he came closer.
Before Desiree knew it, she was backed against the kitchen counter, Jesse’s long, lithe body only inches from her own. He smelled like horses, like fire, like sweat—a combination that should have been unpleasant but wasn’t. She took a deep breath, savoring the sexy, seductive scent of him.
Electricity crackled between them. She wanted to touch him, to run her fingers through the silky darkness of his hair as she pressed her body to his and begged him to take her. She wanted to feel his lips on her, needed to touch and taste him everywhere at once. Her nipples peaked beneath her lace bra at the thought, and an ache started low in her belly as her breathing grew ragged. She watched his eyes darken to ebony, felt the heat radiating from him and knew, finally, that he wasn’t nearly as unmoved as he wanted her to believe.
“Jesse.” She was restless, aching for him in every cell of her being.
She watched his gaze drop to her breasts, felt his sudden intake of breath as he stared at the tight buds pressing against the thin silk of her dress. He leaned closer, crowding her, his chest scant inches from her own as his lips hovered over hers.
“Jesse.” It was a plea, and both of them knew it. Her eyelids fluttered as seconds stretched into a minute. Then he was reaching for her, past her, snatching a carrot slice from the salad and turning away.
“I need to take a shower before we eat,” he commented as he headed toward his bedroom, his breathing level and his long stride relaxed. “I’ll make it quick.”
Desiree stared, openmouthed, as the door closed behind him. Her knees trembled, but she locked them in place as fury ripped through her. The bastard. The unbelievable, arrogant bastard!
How dare he get her all stirred up, then walk away?
How dare he get that close, then not follow through?
How dare he not want her?
Her eyes narrowed as she heard the shower start, as she imagined him stripping that beautiful body. A picture rose in her head—him wet and naked, his long hair slicked back and his bronze body glistening as water and steam surrounded him.
Desire rose sharply and nearly drowned out the anger. Nearly.
Eyes narrowed in calculation, she drained the pasta, switched off the sauce. Should she have dinner ready and waiting when he got out, as if he hadn’t just rejected her for the millionth time? Should she leave, duck out before he finished his shower? Everything in her—from her pride to her love for him—rebelled at the thought of turning tail. Or should she stay and seduce him as he’d never been seduced before?
Desiree grinned slyly—as if she even had to think about the choices. There was only one place she wanted to be and that was in the shower with him. She reviewed her earlier plan, making changes in her head even as she stealthily opened the bedroom door. She’d show Jesse. She’d make him beg to have her, make him grovel before he laid a hand on her.
Crossing the room to the open bathroom door, she inhaled his scent floating on the billowing steam. Watched as his silhouette moved behind the shower curtain. And began to undress. Quickly, before she second-guessed herself. Before she changed her mind.
When she was naked, Desiree took a deep breath and prayed that she was doing the right thing. Then, with fingers crossed, she slipped soundlessly into the shower.
Jesse faced the spray, his head bent as water cascaded over his hair and down his muscular chest. His arms were braced against the wall, the muscles in his arms and shoulders rigid.
He spun to face her as she closed the shower curtain and she nearly swallowed her tongue at her first look at his naked, heavily aroused body—so long and hard that she was sure he must be in pain. Any plans she had flew right out of her head.
“What are you doing?” he barked, his voice low and tormented as he stared at her.
She cleared her throat and moved so that she was next to him, so close she could share the warm spray. He tensed even more, shifting so she had more space. Though it was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, Desiree smiled and reached, with studied casualness, for a bottle of shampoo. “It occurred to me that I could use a shower, too. I’ve been working with the horses most of the day.”
Of course, she’d spent nearly half an hour in her own shower—shaving and cleansing and moisturizing—before heading to Jesse’s, but she saw no reason to bring that up. Tilting her head back, Desiree let the water wash over her short crop of red hair, lifting her hands to her head to lather in the shampoo, desperately aware of how her breasts lifted at the movement, her nipples puckering and begging for his attention.
She closed her eyes, but could still feel his hot gaze over her as his breathing grew harsh. Please, God, don’t let him send her away. Don’t let him reject her again.
“Desiree, stop.” So low they were almost a growl, the words slammed into her, making her heart stutter and her body jerk.
She opened her eyes, stared into his, shocked at the anger and desire moving in them. She wanted to say something sophisticated, something sexy, but when she spoke, only the truth came out. “I can’t.”
She reached for him, but he grabbed her shoulders, kept her at arm’s length. “We can’t do this.”
“Why can’t we?” Her eyes wandered down to the proof of his desire. “I know you want me, and it’s more than obvious that I want you. So what’s the problem?” She clutched one of his hands in her own and pressed it to her breast.
Jesse groaned, his thumb sweeping over her hardened nipple of its own volition. For long moments he caressed her. He closed his eyes, a look of agony on his face as he moved to pull his hand away.
She grabbed it, held his fingers in place as she arched toward him. “Don’t leave me like this, Jesse. Please, don’t leave me.”
Shuddering, he pulled her into the shelter of his body. He pressed his face into her neck as he fought for control. “I’m years too old for you, Desiree. I knew you when you were still a child.”
Smiling, she reached down and let her fingers lightly travel the length of him. “I haven’t been a child since the day I first saw you.” She continued to stroke him, watched as his eyes grew hazy, listened as his breath hitched first once and then again. “And I’m certainly not a child now.”
“I work for your father.” The words were wrenched from him as he thrust helplessly against her hand.
“He’s not here.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body fully against him. “This isn’t about him.” Leaning forward, she licked a drop of water from his chest—following the trail from his nipple to his throat to a spot right under his left ear.
“Desiree.” Her name was ripped from him as he exploded, lifting her against the cool tile wall. His mouth captured hers, his tongue thrusting inside as he tasted every part of her. She moaned, her lips parting to give him better access as he devoured her.
His teeth closed over her lower lip, nipping at its fullness as he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, pinching slightly, laughing as she gasped and arched against him.
She’d expected her first time to be slow and gentle, full of whispers and soft caresses. She’d dreamed of giving herself to Jesse, dreamed of sweetness and tenderness. What she got was none of that, yet somehow so much more.
His mouth raced frantically across her cheek, over her neck, down her breast until he reached her nipple. Pulling the hard nub into his mouth, he sucked, his tongue circling the areole. She gasped, moaned, pushed herself against his mouth as tension wound tighter and tighter within her.
He moved between her thighs, spreading her legs wide as his mouth continued to pull on her breast, his thumb slipping between them to find her hottest point.
Heat. Joy. Pleasure so intense she nearly convulsed swept through Desiree before she was ready, before she could prepare herself. She screamed, wrapping her legs around Jesse’s waist, opening herself to him as he slid home.
Pain exploded inside of her and she tensed. She heard Jesse curse, felt his instinctive withdrawal. But the pain was fading quickly, a hot urgency taking its place so that she began moving frantically against him.
He groaned, low and deep, thrusting against her as his mouth moved once again to her own. She could tell he wanted to slow down, wanted to be gentle, but she was desperate for completion. Her body was spiraling up, up, beyond her control, and she wanted, needed to take him with her this first time.
She reached between them, rubbed her fingers over his peaked nipples, reveling in the groan he couldn’t hold back.
“Stop!” he gasped. “It’s too soon. You’re not ready.”
But she was ready, so ready that it was all she could do to keep from going off like a firecracker on the Fourth of July. And then his hand was between her legs, rubbing her and she couldn’t hold back, didn’t know how to hold back.
She screamed as her body convulsed, long and high and keening as Jesse slammed into her again and again. Suddenly he stiffened and pleasure like she’d never imagined swept through her, into her, holding her in its grasp for one long, timeless moment.
She didn’t know how long they stayed like that—a tangle of arms and legs and bodies pressing against the shower wall. But the water had run cold before the tremors shaking her subsided and he finally moved. She protested when he pulled away and let her legs slide down his slippery body until her feet hit the floor.
“Jesse—”
“Shh,” he interrupted as he began to wash her quickly, skimming the washcloth intimately over her body before rinsing her off.
She willed him to say something, anything, willed him to gather her against him and hold on tight. But he was silent as he washed himself even more quickly before turning off the water.
She tried to talk to him once more, but he pinned her with a look of such anger and disgust that she shrank from him. He draped a towel around his hips, wrapped one around her and carried her into the bedroom, where he settled her gently on the bed.
Silence, tense and angry, stretched between them, and each minute that passed stretched her nerves a little bit tighter. Desiree watched as Jesse paced the room, his big hands raking through his hair again and again.
Finally, when she was nearly insane from the waiting, he sat on the bed near to her. His face was grim. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Confusion filled her. “Tell you what?”
“Don’t play games with me, Desiree!” His voice snapped with repressed rage. “You were a virgin. Why the hell didn’t you mention that fact before…” He broke off.
“Before what?” Her temper flared before she could control it. “Before you made love to me? I didn’t think it was important. And I figured you knew.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “How the hell was I supposed to know? You sure didn’t act like a virgin—coming here to sleep with me, climbing into the shower with me, touching me the way you did!” His voice rose with every word, until he was shouting.
Embarrassment swept through her at his reminder of her uninhibited behavior, but she’d be damned before she let him see it. “Who exactly am I supposed to have slept with? I’ve loved you since I was sixteen years old! Who else would I let touch me?”
His face darkened dangerously, frustration in every line of his body as he turned away, resting his elbows on his knees. She watched him breathe deeply—once, twice and then again and again—until the darkness slowly faded away and he turned back to her. “Desiree…”
She looked into his eyes, saw the regret he didn’t even try to hide. She struggled to smile despite the pain of his rejection. She wanted to leave, wanted to be anywhere but here, doing anything but having this discussion. Not now, while her body still hummed from her first orgasm. Not while her muscles ached pleasantly and all she really wanted to do was climb into the center of the bed with Jesse and make love again.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she said quietly, even as her heart broke. “I understand.” She stood, pulling the towel more tightly around her as she squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “But I’m glad you didn’t know. If it would have stopped you from making love to me, then I’m glad I didn’t tell you.”
“Is that what you think?” His eyes narrowed as he grabbed her hand, pulling her onto the bed beside him. “That I wouldn’t have made love to you?” He sighed, his eyes steady and sincere on hers.
“Oh, darlin’, you couldn’t be more wrong.” Jesse pulled her into his arms, let his lips trail lightly down her cheek. “I’ve wanted you since you were seventeen, Desiree. Years too young for me and so beautiful you broke my heart. There’s no way I could have turned you away tonight, even though I wanted to. No way I could resist taking what I’ve wanted for five long years.”
“Then why are you so angry at me?”
His smile was sad as his thumb brushed gently over her mouth. “Not you, darlin’. Never you.” He gripped her hands in his, lowered his forehead until it rested on hers. “I’m angry with me. I shouldn’t have taken you like that—fast and hard, up against a wall.”
He shook his head, his mouth twisted with disgust. “I hurt you and I didn’t have to. If I’d known, if I hadn’t been so blind, I’d have done it differently. I’d still have loved you—I don’t think anything could have stopped me after all these years of needing you—but I would have made damn sure it was good for you.”
Tears flooded her eyes before she could stop them as all her dreams came true at once. “It was good for me, Jesse. Wonderful. Fantastic. Amazing.” She leaned into his warmth, savoring the feel of his nakedness against her.
Pulling her into his lap, he ran his hands through her hair as he cuddled her against him. Desiree relaxed slowly as she listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart. “I love you.”
“I know, darlin’.” His voice was heavy, his eyes sad and dark. “God knows you shouldn’t, but I’m so glad you do.” He brushed his lips against hers.
It was supposed to be a soft kiss, a safe kiss, but she lit up at the first touch of his mouth. Pulling him tightly against her, Desiree slowly traced his lips with her tongue before pulling his bottom lip between her teeth. She nipped playfully, laughed as he groaned against her, as he pushed her gently onto the bed and covered her body with his own.
“Are you sore?” he asked, sliding his knee between her own.
Her smile blazed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Not even a little.”
“Then why don’t I do this right this time?” He leaned down, traced the hollow of her neck with his tongue.
She shivered, arching up to give him better access. “I didn’t think there was anything wrong with last time, but practice…mmm…makes perfect.”
He grinned as he lowered his mouth to her nipple. “Desiree?”
“Yes?” Her voice was low, breathless.
“You do know that I’m a perfectionist, don’t you?”
She shuddered as his fingers found her and began to stroke. “Thank goodness.”