IF ONLY...
1
Sometimes, the love of a lifetime
comes too late.
Present Day
Malibu, California
“Did you get two keys?”
“You don’t need one. But, yes hon, I got two keys.” Jake chuckled, catching sight of Eve’s shaky hands fishing through her purse.
“I don’t have it, Jake.” Her head snapped back to him. “Did you give it to me?”
“Relax.” He reached a hand over to still hers. “I’ve got them. You don’t need a room key.”
“I think I’d just feel better having...”
“No.” He glanced at her. “You’re nervous.”
She sat back with a huff as he drove into the restaurant parking lot. Jake smiled to himself as he parked and turned to her. “It’s been four months, Eve. Just relax and enjoy tonight.”
He quickly got out of the truck, unable to take the sadness clouding her eyes. Loving her had become an addiction. The unconditional and incomprehensible devotion she’d given him, despite all the historic obstacles of their relationship, was something he couldn’t give up—even though his gut said it would be the best thing for her. It reminded him of the cliché, ‘If you love someone, let them go...’ But fuck that. He really did love her, which is why he couldn’t.
When he opened her door, the cool night breeze coming off the ocean whipped Eve’s long hair around her shoulders, carrying the fresh clean fragrance of her shampoo to him. He inhaled deeply, remembering how many times over the past months, he’d caught a hint of something reminding him of the scent of her hair and how much he craved her. Helping her out of the truck, Jake dragged her against him for a moment by the nape of her neck. Running his fingers through the base of her soft hair, he pressed her face against his neck, memorizing the soft feel of her lips against his skin, before letting her go with a kiss on her forehead.
With a hand on the small of her back, he scanned the parking lot then led her up the stairs to the front of the restaurant. Hot skin beneath the soft silk of her thin, black wraparound dress warmed his hand as he moved it lower to the base of her spine. For a second he considered skipping dinner all together.
All in good time. For once, they had more than a few stolen hours.
Holding the door, he guided her inside the entryway and they waited off to the side for the hostess to finish seating the couple ahead of them. Moving his hand over her hip, he tugged her closer to his side, his face inches from hers. “It’s been a long time.”
“I’ve missed you,” Eve said, her gaze locked onto his goatee.
He smirked. He’d known her the better part of her life, but no matter how many times he saw her, his presence always made her nervous. He framed the side of her cheek with his hand, turning her face to him. “No, you didn’t.”
Piercing cornflower blue eyes finally lifted to his. Jesus. Her eyes were so fucking electric blue they sometimes appeared violet, depending on her mood. Like a motherfucking x-ray, he’d swear they saw straight through all his bullshit, delivering a jolt of life into his black fucking heart. Always had.
Well...now that he had her strict attention. “Better. Now, what was that?”
“I’ve missed you.” She smiled.
Jake lowered his eyes to her plush lips. The sincerity and affection emanating from her made him want to crush her to his chest in thanks and fuck everything else. Eve’s warmth was incomparable along with the way she looked at him, as if he were the only man in world. He wiped a solitary tear trailing down the side of her face before running the same finger down the silky column of her neck and over the heated chain she wore, ending at the top of his dog tag.
“Twenty-four hours, baby. No tears. Not tonight.”
Eve nodded and turned her gaze to the smiling hostess who walked up to seat them.
“Two?” The hostess leaned over and grabbed the menus. “The main dining room okay?”
Jake took a quick scan around the restaurant. “Can we have the circular corner booth in the back?” He would have a clear view of the entire place, the entrance and exits from there. And the privacy he wanted with her.
“Of course, sir. Right this way.”
They followed the hostess through the dimly lit main room. He’d picked this place particularly because of the dark, candlelit ambiance and how much Eve missed living by the beach. Windows lined the entire dining area with a spectacular view of the ocean from any seat in the house. The muted sound of the waves crashing against the shore outside merged with the soft melody of a live piano playing somewhere off in the bar area.
“This is beautiful.” Eve sat and moved into the booth.
He slid in beside her and tapped the outside of her thigh, signaling her to slide farther towards the center. “I knew you’d like it.”
The hostess handed them menus. “Your waitress will be with you shortly. Enjoy your dinner.” She moved away from the table.
Jake covered Eve’s hand under the table and threaded his fingers with hers. “Stop shaking.”
Eve flashed him that smile reserved only for him. Her look, coupled with the pretty flush of her cheeks had his cock already straining against the metal zipper of his pants.
“You’d think your effect on me after knowing you for twenty-three years would have waned a bit,” she said.
She let go of his hand, unrolled the silverware, set it perfectly in place, laid the cloth napkin on her lap, meticulously forming a perfect square and smoothing out the creases.
“It better not have. Besides, I was gone sixteen of those years.”
Shadows flashed across her eyes and gut checked him. He hated whatever had happened in her life during his absence that had extinguished the spark—the appetite for life—she’d always had before he’d tracked her down a year ago. Those experiences in a life that fuck a person up from the inside out—the things that scar and change a person from one you’ve always known to a shell of their former selves. Those things had damaged her radiance. He wanted so much to be the one to give that back to her.
Eve was like sunlight. Her smile alone could light up an entire room.
“Easy, baby,” he soothed, trying to relax her. “We’re just another couple having dinner.” He caressed slow circles on her hand with his thumb, attempting to calm her with every pass, every caress. So in tune with her, Jake gave her a minute to settle down. “You’re not driving tonight. Have a drink. What do you feel like?” He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her fingers, biting the tip of her middle one, before letting her hand go, so she could check out the drink menu. “Vodka...you like Vodka. Chick drinks. Bay Breeze?”
“You know I can’t really drink. Besides, the last time I drank was with you.” She opened the dinner menu, a deep rose color staining her cheeks. “Look what happened then.” Intentionally avoiding his stare, Eve scanned the menu up and down.
Oh…he knew exactly what happened the last time they’d drank together. It was an ever present feature in his fucked up fantasies starring her. Eve was an adorable lightweight. She’d had two strawberry margaritas, just enough to blur those ever present inhibitions that clung to her like a second skin, and she’d finally let her inner seductress breathe a little. After the restaurant, he’d found the closest hotel room in sight. They’d had each other’s clothes nearly ripped the fuck off, within seconds of him kicking the door shut and slamming her up against it.
Tonight would end in a hotel room too, but this time he wasn’t leaving. This time they would have all night—no rushing, no responsibilities, no separate lives. Nope. Tonight, he wouldn’t be forced to leave her crying at the door or by the side of his truck as he drove away—a sight that haunted him to the point he would call and talk to her on his drive home no matter how far away he was. Yep. Only each other tonight...the way it could have been if fate hadn’t been such a vicious bitch.
He hoped tonight he could finally get her to sleep at least a little while. The only time she rested seemed to be when he was with her, when he held her. She was a terrible insomniac. When the nightmares ripped him out of whatever fitful sleep he managed, he would text her at all hours of the early morning and she was always awake. Not tonight. But first, he needed her to relax.
“One drink. It’ll settle you down.”
The waitress approached, greeting them. “How are you both doing? My name’s Shelly and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I start you off with a drink? Soda, wine? Something a little stronger?” She raised an eyebrow and winked at Eve.
Eve smiled at her and exhaled with an affirmative nod. “You sold me. I’ll have a Strawberry margarita.”
Shelly wrote the order down. “One of my faves. Our bartender rocks, hon. And you sir?”
“Maker’s Mark, Old Fashioned.”
“You got it, folks. Be right back with those.”
Eve shook her head and chuckled quietly. “I can never seem to say no to you.”
He laughed aloud. “You say no to me all the time. Even when I know you don’t want to, but not tonight.” He intentionally let the sentence hang.
She stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“What looks good to you?” Jake ignored her question, focusing on the entree section of the menu. He knew as much as her control freak side wanted to know what he was thinking, the not knowing allowed her a sense of freedom. Eve wouldn’t admit it, but his unpredictability pushed her to a place where she felt safe to release her deep inner self, the one she kept locked up tight from the rest of the world.
“Breathe, honey,” he urged without looking at her.
Flustered, she shook out the menu.
He hid the smirk pushing at his lips. Everything about Eve drew him to her, called to him on a cellular level. Made him want to push her boundaries further and further every time he saw her.
If only he could rewind the clock...
As the waitress set their drinks down, he gave her the appetizer order. She headed to the kitchen and Jake turned to Eve. “How’s your dissertation going? Your defense is coming up quick.” He moved the drink in front of her by the base of the goblet.
She lifted the glass and took a sip, some of the sugar remained on her full lips.
When she reached for the napkin, he shackled her wrist and pulled her to him.
“Babe!” Her eyes nervously darted around the room. “Um, we’re in public.”
“Where nobody knows us.” Jake reached a hand around the nape of her neck and leaned into her, their lips centimeters apart. The intoxicating smell of strawberries and tequila mixed with her spearmint gum. He stared at her lips for a few seconds, building the anticipation. He let the energy between them wash over him—the hot singe burning through him right before he took her mouth, the natural fresh scent of her skin which intensified when she was aroused. Slowly, he leaned forward to take her lower lip between his, licking the remaining sugar granules and pulling away as her eyes closed.
Shaking her head, she sat back.
Jake dropped his hand from the nape of her neck to the top of her left thigh. Her sharp gasp alerting him she was right where he wanted her—on edge and needy. Eve responded to him like nobody else. His touch, his voice alone got her wet and that was a serious fucking turn on.
“The dissertation?” He reminded her as he went back to studying the menu. Keeping his hand on her leg, he ran his fingers along the inside of her thigh over her dress. The silky material bunched beneath his fingers with every stroke, pulling it higher up her thigh.
“Oh,” she answered distracted. “Good. It’s going good. I defend in two weeks and have to be in New York three weeks later.”
Reality left them both speechless for a minute.
“And the book?” He needed to keep her focused on them or she might mentally disappear on him.
“It’s more notes. I don’t think I’ll have time.”
“Drink, baby,” he suggested.
She lifted the glass and took a long swig.
He scoffed. “Nice. You might want to slow down a bit.”
“Right?” She laughed nervously and set the glass back down. “I’m an academic writer, so I don’t really think of it as a book—more an epic, cathartic journal entry. Besides, the dissertation has to come first, because of the Postdoc obviously, but if I were to write something outside of academia, I’d have a lot to change.” With a small shiver, she tuned to stare across the dining room.
While he allowed her that small retreat, he kept the pressure on her leg steady.
“Whatever you decide to do, if you went that way, writing us, I wish you didn’t have to change any of it.”
The muscles under her smooth skin jumped as he slowly gathered more material in his hand and nudged her napkin to the side with a careless sweep of his fingers.
“You know I’d have to.” She took another drink.
“I do.” It was true, so what could he say? He hated that she’d have to change a single fucking thing. After her dissertation defense, she was playing with the idea of writing their story as a break before her Postdoc started fall semester, and though she’d never admit it to him, as a way for her to cope with the inevitable. While tragic, their history, their story, was as beautiful as it was fucked up.
But they were here now, and tonight, he would only allow her to focus on them.
No past. No future. Only present.
Jake dragged the dress a bit higher up her leg.
“Chicken. I’ll have the rotisserie chicken. What about you?” Eve’s cheeks flushed from the alcohol and his hand steadily bunching the skirt on her dress higher up her leg.
He was almost at her upper thigh. She had the softest fucking skin.
“Forget it.” She grinned and shook her head. “I already know. Steak.”
“Humph,” he scoffed. “What else?”
“You’re a frightening carnivore. You need to eat better.”
“I’m dialed.” He finally reached the very top of her thigh.
Her eyelids fluttered. “Babe—what are you doing?” Eve whispered, her eyes jumping to the tables around theirs, checking if anyone was watching them.
“The tablecloth is way below your legs.”
“How do you know that?” She jerked away from him.
“When we walked in.” He pushed his hand in between her thighs, sliding her back over to him. “Have I told you how much I love your mouth?”
Eve’s face flamed brighter, but she ignored his comment. “You noticed the tablecloth on this specific booth when we walked in the door?”
“I notice everything. Now...you were saying?” Skimming his fingers down her exposed inner thigh, he squeezed and rubbed until he felt the tension flow out of her muscles.
Her eyelids dropped the slightest bit. “I’m sorry. What did you ask?” She tried to sit up straighter as the waitress approached from across the room. Her hand fell on top of his.
“Both hands on the table, baby.”
At the directive, her head snapped to him.
“Just order.”
“I can’t order with your hand between my legs.” She kept her voice low.
“Sure you can. And my hand isn’t between your legs. Yet...” He pushed the end of the dress up to her hips as their waitress walked up.
Eve inhaled quickly and gripped the menu tighter.
“Would you like to hear the specials?” the server asked, glancing between them.
“I think we’re good.” Jake turned to Eve with a smirk. “Ladies first.”
Clearing her throat, Eve smiled up at the waitress. “I’ll have the rotisserie chicken with garlic mashed potatoes, please.”
He slipped his fingers just underneath the bunched material of her dress pooled at juncture of her thigh.
Eve sucked in her breath and fidgeted.
Squeezing her leg hard, he held her in place. He watched Shelly try to stop the smile spreading across her face and he almost laughed at the bright red staining Eve’s neck and face.
“Soup or salad with that, Ma’am?”
Eve started. “Um—salad please. With balsamic dressing.”
Jake grinned as she made small talk and struggled to get the words out. He turned away from her to order and began moving his fingers again, steadily teasing.
* * *
Eve’s head spun and she didn’t even register what Jake ordered. She’d missed his touch so much, her brain malfunctioned. And poor Shelly. She knew. She had to. Eve wanted to die. But she also didn’t want Jake to stop touching her, to be honest—waitress or no waitress.
There was always a leashed aggression to Jake’s touch that she craved. His fingers never stopped while he ordered and chatted up Shelly as if they were long lost friends. If he moved an inch farther up her leg, there’d be no question about how turned on she was. This man was her undoing, just his voice, the simplest touch brought on a physical response. No other man in her life had ever mentally or physically affected her the way he did.
Finally, Shelly left with their order.
Jake threw her that cocky grin. “You okay?”
While she loved that grin, it also drove her insane and made her wet as hell. “What are you doing!” Did she moan that? It wasn’t intended as a moan.
“I’ll tell you what I’m doing, baby.” He moved in close, the strong oaky scent of whisky on his lips drew her in like an embrace. “You’re gonna sit there, looking beautiful. You’re gonna answer my questions and enjoy your dinner. You’re gonna keep your eyes only on me and you’re gonna come when I tell you to.”
When Eve started, the hand on her thigh tightened. “Nope. Stay there.”
“You can’t, Jake! Not here. I—you can’t do that here.”
“Shhh, just talk to me.” A small frown crept across his mouth the second his fingers slid over the lace of her panties. “Did you really wear those?”
She focused on his lips. She loved his mouth. Loved what he did to her body with his mouth. When he touched her like he was doing now, when he spoke to her this way, her brain shut down. His presence, her love for him, negated every good intention. Right and wrong became obsolete. “I can’t go out in public without underwear,” she whispered, fighting to keep her eyes open despite the singeing heat of his hand so close to her pussy. She just wanted to let her head fall back on the seat and record his touch to memory. Time had become her greatest enemy.
Jake’s grip tightened. “I know that look, Eve. Stay with me. I’m right here, hon.”
Eve felt him watching her. “I’m here.”
Sharp brown eyes studied her, before he nodded. “Now. The underwear...take ‘em off.”
She tried to stop her mouth from dropping open. “I’m sorry?”
“You heard me. Take. Them. Off.” His fingers moved under the lacy side and he pulled it away from her body and down her hip.
Eve moved her hand on top of his. “Stop! Jake stop,” she breathed out and gripped his hand under the table.
“Put your hands back on the table. Lift up a little. I’ll do the work.”
“I can’t!”
He just stared at her, sliding his hand under the front of her panties and trailing a finger over her clit to rest at her entrance.
His warm lips caressed her ear. “Really? Because it feels like you can.”
Eve’s eyelids dropped for a second and she wanted the world to disappear.
“Please.”
“Please, what? Please stop?”
Her breath caught as he caressed the crease between her thighs with such a skilled touch, she couldn’t help but fidget in her seat. She squeezed her legs together tight, trying not to move with him.
Jake groaned. “You’re so wet, baby. Open for me.” He gripped the top of her thigh and squeezed hard. “I said...open.”
Taking a deep breath, Eve slowly released the tension in her legs allowing them to part enough, so he could move his hand.
“Good girl. Keep your back against the booth and lift your hips. Slowly. Move too fast, you’ll be obvious. Nice and slow.”
This was all kinds of wrong. Eve realized she shouldn’t allow this, but something hypnotic about the demand in his tone overwhelmed her. He knew her. He could read what she needed and demanded she give into it—to that dark thing deep inside her. The darkness she kept to herself and desperately yearned to let out, to have it be understood by at least one person—and that person was Jake. She subtly lifted her hips off the seat.
He smoothly slid her panties down to just below her knees.
“Reach down, take them off, and hand them to me.” His eyes never left hers.
She laughed nervously. “I’m not taking them all the way off. Come on.”
“Off.” His expression never changed.
“You’re enjoying this!”
“You have no idea.” He chuckled, then sobered. “I told you not to wear anything under that dress. This is on you.”
Eve studied his handsome face. “You’re serious?”
“Oh, yeah. I want ‘em gone.”
A surge of wetness coated her thighs at the confidence in his voice, in his touch. Leisurely, she reached beneath the table, peeking up at the room before maneuvering the lacy material down her calves and finally off one foot, then the other. She straightened and handed them to him under the table. “I cannot believe I’m doing this,” she murmured and sat up straighter, trying to maintain a collected facade.
“Sure you can,” he responded as he put her panties in his pocket. “Next time I tell you not to wear anything, you’ll listen.”
Eve’s entire body tensed when she spotted Shelly approaching with their appetizers
“You’re good, baby. Smile at your new friend, Shelly,” Jake teased before the waitress got to the table.
“You chose well, these are the house special. Beef pot stickers,” Shelly said as she placed two plates in front of them and the platter between them. “Enjoy.”
When she walked away, Jake turned to Eve. “I plan on it. Open your legs.”
“No” just wasn’t an option any longer. Her traitorous body was already shaking with need. Jake made her want to surrender everything to him, please him. She let her legs fall open.
“What do you crave that you don’t tell me about?” he asked as his fingers slid along the sides of her smoothly shaved lips.
Eve’s breath hitched and she fought not to push her hips against him.
“Mmm. You shaved for me,” Jake rumbled.
“I always shave.”
“I love the feel of your lips. How smooth they are, how swollen you get, the taste of you.” He crowded her.
“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked him, nodding to the appetizer and trying to change the subject. They were in public! He would talk to her this way in private, yeah, but here? Yet, it made her want him that much more. Excitement rippled through her having him touch her and trying to pretend as if they were just having an intimate conversation. Eve inhaled deep and let it out. “Babe, the food?”
“What I want is under the table, not on it.”
When he removed his hand, she instantly felt bereft of his warmth.
Jake brought his fingers up to his mouth, casually ran them over his bottom lip, coating it with her arousal, before sucking that lip into his mouth.
Eve’s stomach dropped out. He was the most erotic man she’d ever encountered. His every movement…pure seduction.
Grabbing one of the warm towels the waitress had left on their table, Jake wiped his hands and dried them. He cut one of the pot stickers and fed it to her before taking the other half himself.
“Darkest fantasy. Go.”
Oh! Like she’s supposed to talk now? He worked her up, left her needy and expected her to hold a conversation? Asshole!
He glanced at her and laughed. “Yeah, goin’ off the look on your face right now, you don’t want to get bold, sweetheart. I’ll make you scream in this nice restaurant.”
The scary thing about that threat...he could. Easily. And he knew it.
“I think that’s a little too intense for a dinner conversation.” Eve stabbed at another pot sticker in frustration.
“You tell me everything.” He took the other half of the appetizer from her plate.
“I know and I shouldn’t.”
“But you do, so tell me.”
Jake created this intimate space between them where nothing was off limits. Nothing ever seemed dirty or shameful. She really could tell him anything with the confidence that he would never judge her for it. He made it safe for her to be the real her, to let her guard down. The Eve she hid from every other person in her life. The Eve who should have been Jake’s a couple decades ago.
“I’d say the things I’ve done with you qualify as fantasy. I’ve experienced things with you I never have before, things I never thought I’d do.”
“You’re skating. I already know that. Answer the question.”
Eve watched him chew. His mouth was so beautiful, the way his goatee framed his chin accentuating his perfect lips. She just wanted to kiss him. No more talking, just kissing.
“Eve Isabella. Focus.” He chuckled and ran a knuckle down her cheek.
She cringed at the use of her middle name.
“You sound like my mom. I’m not sure how to answer.”
How could she tell him without freaking him out? No, he’d never made her feel insecure or ashamed before. He knew the worst thing, the most personal thing, about her. Almost. She’d told him the beginning. The other part, the last part, she had never told another soul—only her parents knew. Her greatest regret, her shame, was the pain she’d caused them, the worry she’d given them. But the part she had shared with Jake about that time in her life, he hadn’t criticized. Hadn’t thought her crazy. Still, how did she explain this. Her darkest fantasy? Um, no. Too big a risk for her.
“Okay. So, what’s your why?” Jake interrupted her inner critic. “Why sexual psychology with an emphasis on marginalized communities? Does any of that turn you on?”
His questions gave her something to focus on, besides how hot he was. That worked for her. She could talk about her studies all day.
“My why? Besides wanting to help people feel complete and comfortable in their own skin? I guess it depends on your definition of marginalized. Do you mean BDSM? Dominance and submission? Sadomasochism? I can go on, but those communities are under a microscope lately, so I’ll start there. I know a little about a lot I guess. I’ve had to do extensive research to write my dissertation obviously, but my area of expertise lies more in the psychology and dynamic of a power exchange.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” he reminded her. “And you’re rambling, hon.”
“It was three questions. That was my why. As for my emphasis and does it turn me on... Um, let’s take an example, people hear power exchange, they immediately think Dominant and submissive couples or BDSM. Yes, there are aspects of both lifestyles I’m attracted to specifically because of the exchange of power between two people. I’ve never been involved in a Dominant/submissive relationship or been exposed to BDSM, so I can’t say for sure if it turns me on. I study it through a specific academic lens. Personally, what I know about the D/s lifestyle...I find liberating, beautiful even. Again, the power exchange. It angers me that the uneducated stereotype a community as deviant for what makes them feel complete as human beings. Different people need or want different things sexually, and they shouldn’t be judged for it. It’s nobody’s business but theirs. So, to answer your question, I am attracted to the psychology behind it. If I was pushed to give an answer, due to the trust you put in another person’s hands, it’s not a lifestyle for me.”
“But how do you know?” His eyes stayed locked to hers.
“I don’t.” She stabbed the little dumpling with her fork. “I have trust issues, so I don’t know if it would turn me on.”
With a finger under her chin, he rotated her face back to him. “You don’t. If you haven’t experienced it. You don’t know.”
Eve paused for a second, staring into his hypnotic brown eyes. If it were him, if it were Jake, she might feel different about exploring some of the areas she studied and wrote about in her dissertation.
“Fair enough,” she conceded. “Which is why I can’t answer your question.”
“Humor me. Ignore the trust issues for now.” He cut the last of the pot stickers, putting one on her plate. “Eat, baby.”
She thought about how to answer while she chewed, especially since the vast majority of said trust issues were because of him.
“For me personally...the idea of consent and restraint are attractive.”
“Being tied down?” he asked, his expression unreadable.
Her stomach fluttered at the question. Too late now.
She’d opened Pandora’s box.
“It’s bigger than any one act, but I think there’s something...freeing about restraint specifically, yes.” She peeked back down at her plate, feeling too vulnerable and a little sad they were even having this conversation.
“Don’t hide, baby, tell me. There’s nothing wrong with what you said. Talk to me.”
“I know there’s nothing wrong with it.” She took a deep breath before meeting his gaze and continuing. “I find something about the trust involved in submission…a priceless sort of gift to give. One could argue that you have to trust someone with your life to allow them to push your boundaries physically and mentally, depending on how deep they run. A person confident and caring enough to accept the responsibility of control a submissive willingly gives to them, and to genuinely appreciate the trust required to do so, is a unique and strong individual. How do you not respect that type of relationship?”
“So, you’re attracted to the idea of a Dominant.”
Eve turned toward him. “The dynamic between a Dominant and a submissive, yes. It’s the consent I’m drawn to—giving up control. Knowing another person cares about you and loves you inside and out, knows your boundaries and can push them without breaking that trust is rare. But it’s dangerous too. There are predators out there who are not true Dominants. That said, there’s a beauty in giving that level of trust to another individual. People should embrace who they really are without fear of judgment and persecution. I went into the psychology of sexuality to help others. If there’s a chance I can do that, I will.”
“But is that something you want for yourself?” he asked. “Think about it. I’ll be back.” He got up and walked towards the restrooms.
How to answer that question? If it were anyone she’d trust that much, it would be Jake. But she couldn’t have him. She, therefore, could never give that much of herself to him and watch him leave and—he always left. The pain of him having to leave was inconceivable now. If she gave him that much, his absence would spiral her back to the bad place. The place she needed to remind herself to forget every minute of every day, except when she was with him.
She shook her head. No. She’d already gone way beyond her personal limits with Jake—allowed him to take her to intimate places she would never go with another man. But she wouldn’t go there. She wouldn’t give him that.
Eve watched him walk across the dining room back to the table, thinking how unbelievably handsome and sexy he looked. An unconscious intensity clung to him. It demanded people’s attention. She’d noticed it the first moment she’d met him. When she’d been too young to realize the power such a trait could hold, and devastation it could potentially cause.
“I see you’ve been thinking too much,” Jake noted as he approached the table. He sat down and kissed her cheek. He rested his hand back on her thigh. “Just tell me. Don’t think. Is this something you want to experience?”
“Do I want to be able to trust a man that much? Yes. But I know I’ll never trust anyone enough to give up control, which is why a D/s relationship isn’t personally for me.”
His warm fingers moved back up her thigh, ran between her legs, down the sides of her wet lips.
“You’d trust me enough.” His breath was warm against her cheek.
Eve inhaled deeply, trying to focus. Unable to keep the tears back she lifted a hand to his cheek.
“If I was yours, yes. You’d be the only man I’d trust.”
“I know, baby. I wish I could be that man for you.”
She unconsciously pushed into the fingers between her legs.
“But you can’t be—so it won’t be anyone else.” Damn him. He completely undid her.
Jake moved closer to her, sliding her drink in front of her. “Both hands on the glass, hon. Lean back. Have you spoken with your New York advisor?”
She bit back a moan and fought to keep her frame still. “I can’t think when you’re touching me like this.”
New York? Was he serious right now? It was a constant emotional and physical pendulum for her with Jake. He pushed, pulled, demanded, expected and then changed up, throwing her in a completely different direction.
“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” His lips grazed the slope of her ear.
Fuck it. Right now, she couldn’t see or think beyond his fingers between her legs. She’d hate herself tomorrow. Pushing back into the cushion behind her, she closed her eyes and tried desperately not to lift her hips for him.
“You know I do,” she breathed the words out.
His fingers moved up and down along the sides of her clit, massaging her swelling lips.
What was she thinking allowing this?
But it’d been so long. He’d been gone so damn long.
“Stop thinking. Just feel.” He kept his fingers moving as he reached with his other hand to take a drink of his whisky.
Her breathing staggered. She bit her lower lip, trying like hell not to move with him or close her eyes. In the times they’d been together, he’d conditioned her body to his touch. She wished they were back at the hotel room, skin on skin. Nothing between them.
When she at last found the will to actually take a sip of her margarita, play it off a little bit, he slid a finger deep inside her saturated entrance.
“Oh, god,” she whispered and dropped her head.
“Nope. Look up.” He directed, dragging his finger out.
His sexy, deep tenor glided across her skin like a caress, as he inched his way up her pussy.
“Breathe, baby.” He skimmed a finger on his free hand around the rim of his glass at the same torturing pace he used to tease her clit.
It all became too much. Eve bit the inside of her lip harder as she tried to stay still. When his wet finger circled slower and a little harder, her lips parted in an attempt to take in more air.
“Stretch your leg out on the seat,” he ordered, leaning in to her, his goatee tickling her ear. “Open for me.”
“No,” she answered on a ragged breath.
“Eve...” His index finger and ring finger spread her farther apart and he rubbed her with his middle finger.
Her nipples tightened against the now irritating material of her bra. The friction of the lace against her swelling flesh made it nearly impossible to breathe. She bent her leg and lifted it onto the seat next to her, quickly checking to make sure she was covered. Stifling a moan, she arched away from the seat, moved forward and repositioned her hands on her drink, trying to appear casual.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes scanned the room quickly before she turned to him.
“The room’s emptied out. Just you and me.” His finger dipped to her opening before he finally gave her the stimulation she needed. He bent over, putting his mouth to her ear. “You get so fucking wet for me.”
God. The way he talked to her. He made it worse. The words made the throbbing worse and her body beat at her. She did not do the best job biting back that last moan. She cleared her throat.
Jake rubbed her clit in slow, tight, circles and she inhaled deeply, trying not to move. He chuckled seductively.
“Come for me, hon.”
At the sound of his voice, all her tension released and her entire body shuddered. The anticipation of not having him for months, the excitement of actually doing something like this in public for the first time ever, and the erotic drop of his voice had her strangling the goblet in front of her.
She loved this man beyond reason.
With his other hand, Jake turned her face to his and kissed her deep. His tongue penetrated her mouth as he steadily thrust a finger inside of her. Eve moaned into his mouth, reveling in the feel of his tongue on hers and his hand between her legs.
He caressed her softly as she came down and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
“You are so fucking gorgeous when you come.”
Fighting against her natural response, Eve bit her lip to stop herself from telling him how much she loved him.
Jake slowly moved his hand. “Sit back.”
While Eve reclined, he pulled the top of her dress back down over her knees. “Now. Go to the bathroom, clean up and I’ll meet you up front.”
She cocked her head to the side. “What about dinner?”
“I’ll get it to go.”
“Are you sure?”
He wrapped a hand in her hair and pressed her forehead to his. “Yeah. I need to be inside you. Go.”
She kissed him and scooted out to head to the restroom.
When she returned, he’d just finished paying and had the bags ready to go. He held the door with his free hand. Before they reached the truck, Jake wrapped an arm around her waist securing her back against his front. He gave her the bags, freeing up his hands.
“I hate that you’re leaving. I know I need to be the strong one here. For both our sakes, baby, but it’s fucking killing me.” His hand came up around her throat and he lifted her chin, so her head fell back under his chin. He dropped his lips to her ear.
“Jake,” she moaned, trying to turn her head to kiss him.
He stopped her. “Know that I love you, Eve. You. For who you are, what you mean to me now, and what you’ve always meant to me—even all the years we’ve been apart. Don’t ever forget that. I wish I could give you so much more.”
Yeah, Jake claimed he loved her and he knew she loved him, but they both realized no matter what either of them felt, love didn’t change their circumstances or the responsibilities in their separate lives.
Sometimes, the love of a lifetime comes too late.
He kissed her cheek and escorted her the rest of the way to the truck. He put the food in the backseat. Before he opened her door, Jake dragged her against him, pushed her up against the truck and took her lips in a hungry kiss. His tongue met hers and he pulled her tighter to him with a hand on her ass, lifting her leg up on his hip. When he finally moved away, he smoothed down her dress before securing a windblown strand of hair behind her ear and kissing her forehead. “Baby, I—shit.”
“I know.” Eve nodded, got in and stopped him from closing the door. “If I forget to say thank you later—”
“Tonight’s far from over.”
“You know what I mean. Thank you for tonight.”
“Anything for you.”
If only that were true...
2.5 hours