Jack’s Promise
Jack
JACK WOKE TO A DARK room.
In the moonlight he saw beside him a vast expanse of white-sheeted bed with Belle’s naked body not occupying it.
Instantly alert, he came up on an elbow thinking she’d gone to her room or even left the house.
Instead he saw her sitting in the window seat, knees to her chest, her glorious hair falling down her back. She was wearing his dress shirt and gazing out to sea.
Baron was sitting at her side and Belle’s hand was absentmindedly stroking the dog’s head.
Jack settled, his eyes never leaving her, and he gave himself a moment to consider his behavior of earlier that night.
After he’d dragged her to his room like a Neanderthal, he’d not taken her to his bed. He’d not disrobed her or himself. He’d not even let her kick off her shoes.
Instead, he’d pinned her against the wall, captured her mouth with his, yanked up the skirt of her dress and pulled down her panties. Hands to her ass, their lips still locked, tongues sparring, he’d lifted her and without hesitation she’d wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him.
Then he’d taken her against the wall, rough, fierce and completely uncontrolled.
She came within minutes, hard and intense, the soft, sexy noises she made quickening his own need. For a moment, with a deep satisfaction that felt almost primal, he’d watched her face in climax before his own staggering orgasm wiped everything from his mind.
It had been utterly magnificent.
He’d never experienced anything like it.
Nothing even came close.
After they’d finished, she kept her tight hold on him, her face pressed to his neck, the fingers of one of her hands in his hair.
And, holding Belle against the wall, Jack memorized every inch of her that he could feel, her breath on his neck, legs around his hips, fingers in his hair and the sweet, wet tightness between her legs.
She moved her head, put her mouth to his ear and whispered in her soft, honeyed voice, “Jack.”
He knew what she was thinking.
Therefore he turned his own head and kissed her.
Jack didn’t want her thinking and questioning.
He wanted her focused solely on him.
He pulled out of her gently, catching her gasp in his mouth as he did so, and carried her to the side of the bed, kissing her the entire way. There he set her on her feet, took off their clothes and fell with her on the bed.
The second time, he savored her and her delectable body, using his mouth and hands, patiently coaxing her out of her timidity, urging her to do the same to him.
She did, shyly at first, becoming bolder and finally, with a mixture of the two, she achieved wildly successful results.
The second time ended like the first. Rough, fierce and completely uncontrolled.
Although his orgasm was not as staggering as the first, he did have the delightful opportunity to watch hers from start to finish.
Without a word and definitely not allowing Belle to utter one, he’d shifted their bodies under the covers, pulled her in his arms and held her tight with one arm while stroking her spine with the tips of his fingers.
Shortly after, he felt her weight settle into him and he knew she was asleep.
Shortly after that, he allowed himself to sleep as well.
Now, watching her study the sea, Jack considered his actions.
He had no idea why he behaved the way he’d behaved. He’d never done anything of the like in his life.
He also had no idea why Belle brought this out in him.
Although it likely had something to do with the fact that she was the first woman he’d encountered who made it clear she’d rather be anywhere but with him.
It also likely had something to do with Baron’s acceptance of her. Jack’s dog was usually wary and protective, especially when Jack was close. Baron didn’t give his trust or affection easily. One sniff at her hand and her soft coo was all it took for Belle to win Jack’s dog which, to Jack, spoke volumes.
Further, it likely had something to do with watching her open, unguarded delight when she was with the animals.
And probably it had something to do with the sound of her sweet, soft laughter.
It also could have to do with her story about her grandmother and the lemon drops.
Undoubtedly, it had to do with the depth in her eyes that said there was something there. Something he wanted, even so far as needed, but he wasn’t allowed to see. Something he couldn’t have nor could he take.
Something he’d have to earn.
Lastly, it most assuredly had something to do with that lock of thick, shining hair that fell against her neck, adorably revealing her imperfection.
Jack, however, was not the kind of man who spent a great deal of time considering his actions.
So he didn’t.
She simply was who she was, all of who she was.
And Jack liked it, all of it.
And he wanted it.
So he took it.
But also, he was going to keep it because now it was his.
On that thought, he threw the bedclothes aside. He went to his dresser, pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms and tugged them on. Baron trotted to him while he did this and Jack lifted his head to see Belle was watching him, head twisted to look over her shoulder, her arms wrapped around her calves.
Jack walked across the room to join her.
As he walked, she moved jerkily as if she’d been torn from a trance or had a layer of ice wrapped around her that had been shattered.
She released her legs and stood, her head tilting back, her hand coming up as if to ward him off, and she whispered, “Jack—”
His chest came up against her hand, his hands went to her waist and he turned her so her back was to his front, his movements cutting off whatever she intended to say. He moved and sat in the window seat, taking her with him, lifting his legs bent at the knees and positioning her between them. He rested his back against the wall, Belle’s back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, one about her stomach, the other about her chest.
Instinctively Jack felt containment was key. Given the opportunity, Belle would retreat either physically or emotionally and after what they’d just shared, he wasn’t going to allow that.
Even so, she held her body stiffly in his arms.
“Jack—” she began again.
“Belle,” he interrupted her with a squeeze, his voice low and quiet. “Not tonight. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
Although he would not have thought it was possible, he felt her body grow even stiffer.
Baron settled in beside them, resting his head on the window seat by Jack’s hip as Belle turned in his arms so she was facing him.
At the same time she tried to pull away.
Jack’s arms tensed and she was forced to put her hands on his chest to push back but he kept her close, not allowing escape.
She gave up pushing and her eyes lifted to look in his.
He could see her face in the moonlight but he couldn’t read her eyes and he wished he’d thought to turn on a light.
She hesitated before speaking, and with embarrassment dripping from her voice, she whispered. “I’ve never done anything like that before in my life.”
“I know,” he replied softly and understood he’d scored a point when her stiff body relaxed somewhat in his arms.
“I don’t want you to think—” she started, he gave her a gentle shake and his head bent so his face was closer to hers.
“Poppet, get that out of your head. I don’t think anything except what we shared earlier was unbelievably, fucking magnificent.”
Even in the dark, he could see her lips part in surprise and her eyes widened in wonder seconds before she found something else to be embarrassed about. “Your mum—”
There was no way Jack was going to explain the intricate history of competition between the Bennett brothers, Miles’s taking sibling rivalry to a compulsive extreme and Joy’s total understanding of it (and incessant worry about it) when Belle was in his shirt, in his arms, in his room, in the moonlight.
He’d do it tomorrow morning when she was eating breakfast in his bed after he’d made love to her again.
“She won’t mind,” Jack said and he felt Belle’s body jerk.
“She won’t mind?” Belle’s sweet voice had grown louder. “She’s your mum. How could she not mind that I came to her birthday party with one brother and spent the night with the other?”
“Belle—” Jack tried to break in but she was struggling again in his arms.
“She’s going to think I’m a slut.” Belle’s eyes had left his and she was muttering with agitation as she fought his hold on her. “And rude,” she added and then finished with hilarious melodrama. “Oh my God. She’s going to think I’m a rude slut!”
Jack bit back laughter and began again, “Belle—”
But she kept talking and fighting.
“I have to go. Tonight. I should have left when you were asleep. I don’t know what I was thinking. Why didn’t I go? I should have gone. I should—”
Jack silenced her by wrapping a fist in her thick, soft hair and gently tugging.
Her body stilled and her head tipped back. He seized his opportunity, his mouth descended to hers and he kissed her quiet.
He took his time and he made certain to do a thorough job of it.
When he lifted his head, her body had melted into his, her face was soft and her eyes had no trouble holding his.
Jack noted this achievement for future reference.
“Now, listen to me,” Jack ordered softly when he had her undivided attention. “I’ll explain things to Mum. I’ll explain things to Miles.” He watched her wince when he said Miles’s name but he kept talking. “Trust me, they’ll understand.”
“What can you possibly say that will make them understand?” she whispered, her voice horrified.
“You haven’t been dating Miles long, have you?” he asked, and she hesitated at his change of subject before she shook her head. “Was it serious?” he went on, and she shook her head again. “Was it going to get serious?” he pressed gently, and he felt her take in a breath and then sigh.
“I was going to break up with him tomorrow. I—”
Jack suppressed the sense of elation her words caused and cut her off by saying, “I’ll make him understand.”
“I should talk to him,” she replied swiftly.
His hand left her hair and came to her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone.
“You can talk to him after I talk to him. There are things you don’t understand. Things that I’ll explain.” She opened her mouth to speak but Jack kept talking, “Not now, in the morning.” He dipped his face closer and touched his mouth to hers then left it there. “You can trust me, Belle. I’ll take care of it.”
She pulled slightly away, her eyes left his and he felt her body start to stiffen again so he ran his hand down her spine, something that caused her to stop bracing and start to tremble.
He noted this for future reference too.
“Belle,” he called.
She didn’t look at him when she asked quietly, “Why?”
“Why what?”
Her gaze moved to his nose and she replied, “Why everything? Me, tonight, what happened. All of it.”
His hand went back to the side of her face and he demanded quietly, “Look at me, poppet.”
After a brief hesitation, she lifted her eyes to his and only then did he speak.
“I’m not going to explain why. I’m going to take the time and show you why.” His hand moved down to her jaw and his voice got deeper when he went on, “And I’ll do it until you get it. Until you understand how lovely you are.” His thumb moved along her lower lip as he continued, “Until you understand how interesting you are.” His thumb left her lip and his mouth replaced it. “Until you understand why I’d drag you to my room to fuck you. And until you understand why I want to do it again.” He brushed his mouth against hers before he murmured, “And again.”
As he spoke, her body became soft and yielding in his arms, her hands slid from his chest and her own arms curved around him.
When he finished, she dropped down and rested her cheek against his chest, her forehead pressed to his neck and she whispered, “You have to know, this isn’t me. I don’t know who this is. I don’t behave like this,” she paused then, for emphasis, she added, “ever.”
“Like what?”
She replied in a barely there voice. “What we did tonight. I don’t do things like that. I know you want me to think it’s all right, but what we did was wrong.”
Her long hair was spread across his forearms and he gathered it in a hand to twist it softly in his fist before he replied, “There was nothing wrong about what we did.”
He felt her shake her head against his chest but even as she disagreed with him, her arms grew tighter.
“Jack—” she started to protest.
“Belle,” he cut her off. “What I saw of you tonight with Miles was wrong. Very wrong. What we have is not.”
“Jack—” she began again but he gave her hair a gentle tug, she stopped speaking and tilted her head back to look at him as he dipped his chin down.
When he caught her eyes, he spoke. “If you let me in, poppet, even a little bit, I’ll prove it to you. I promise you, I’ll make you understand. This, whatever it is, and we both feel it, is right.”
He felt her grow still and watched her tongue wet her lips before she said words in an awful voice that left no doubt how much it cost her to say them or, indeed, the terrible feeling behind them. “I’ve done that before, with a man, let him in. It wasn’t smart.”
It was Jack’s turn to grow still.
He wanted to know what she meant but understood intuitively that conversation was also not for the moonlight but for the daylight when she was eating breakfast in his bed after he’d made her come and after she’d done the same to him.
“I’m not that man,” Jack returned firmly.
She started to pull away but his arm around her grew tight and she stopped.
“Jack, you have to listen to me,” she demanded, a hint of desperation in her voice.
“No.” He slid her back up his chest so they were face to face and went on, his voice turning fierce. “Tonight is ours. Tomorrow morning, I’ll explain how it is, and if you’ll share it with me, you’ll explain. Then I’ll take care of everything.” She shook her head and his fingers holding her hair wrapped around the back of her head to stop her movement. “Belle, you can trust me.” He dropped his forehead to hers and repeated his oath in a forceful murmur. “I promise you, you can trust me.”
He watched close up as her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
They opened and focused on him.
Then she whispered in an aching voice that registered painfully somewhere deep in his gut, “You promise?”
That was when he thought her part of the conversation might not be best left until the morning.
“Belle, perhaps you should tell me—”
It was Belle’s turn to interrupt Jack.
“You have to promise,” she demanded.
Jack’s hand left her hair and both his arms wrapped around her.
“I promise,” he muttered and started to ask. “Now—”
But she shook her head. “In the morning.”
“Belle—” Jack began but she cut him off.
“In the morning.” she repeated.
Jack’s voice dipped lower in warning. “Belle—”
She completely ignored his warning.
Before he could say more, she pulled slightly away and said, “Let’s go to bed.”
Jack didn’t move.
Belle put her hands to his chest, pushed up, broke through his arms and scooted from between his legs. She came to her feet beside him next to Baron and, one hand scratching behind Baron’s ears, she bent and grabbed Jack’s hand with the other.
“Come to bed,” she whispered.
For a brief moment, Jack Bennett sat in the window of his room looking at his woman in his shirt standing next to his dog.
After that moment was over, he didn’t need to be asked a third time to go to bed.