Runaway Girl (Girl 2) - Page 70

Jason lifts me onto the wooden platform and I rip off my equipment, gasping for air, trying to live through the blast of energy that’s overtaking me. The potency of the rush has me grabbing for the zipper of my wetsuit, yanking at it, needing to ease the pressure on my chest. How can I feel this light and this weighed down at the same time? Water laps against the boat, echoing in my head, but I can’t focus on anything until I’m unfettered. When I finally get the wetsuit off and tossed limply into the boat, I slump against the back of the vessel, confused to find the tension still lingers, my blood pumping a thousand miles an hour.

“Baby.” Jason is in front of me, blocking out the sun, his hands molding my face. “Jesus Christ, that’s never happened in water this shallow. I don’t know what the fuck happened. I don’t know what the fuck…” He breaks off in a wheeze and I notice for the first time his big shoulders are shaking. Worse than after his nightmares. Worse than anything…for me, too. I can’t stand him being upset. “I couldn’t get to you. I couldn’t get to you.”

“Shhh. I know,” I rasp, clasping the sides of his face in my hands. Jumpy. I’m so jumpy. And…exhilarated. The energy inside me expands until I feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin. “Jason, that was a shark. I was inches away from a shark.”

His fingers plow into my wet hair with a guttural sound. “You think I somehow forgot? I can’t stop seeing it. I’m going to see it every time I close my eyes for the rest of my life.”

“But I’m fine. Look.” Another spike of adrenaline has me shooting to my knees. “A couple months ago, living dangerously meant wearing competing patterns. I just survived scuba diving and a shark encounter.” I let go of his face and shake out my hands, a laugh bubbling up and bordering on hysterical. “Oh my God. I feel crazy.”

Jason studies me with shadows in his eyes. Shadows and increasing awareness. I’m dancing around on my knees in front of him, no idea if my bikini is in place and not caring. Not caring about anything but freeing this overwhelming fullness inside me. Giving it a home. “You’re coming down,” he says gruffly. “After a mission, I have energy to burn, no matter how tired I am.”

“How do you burn it off?”

“I run most times.” His gaze slides down my throat, over my chest, heating, his tongue emerging to wet his lips. “I jerk myself off. Whatever it takes.”

Lord, I’m feeling daring. Out of my skin. The soaring sensation is amazing. Nothing is off limits right now. I’m powerful and liberated. “What did you used to think about when you jerked yourself off?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

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Of course they couldn’t park the alien aircraft in the church parking lot.

It was probably MILES away. Am I blowing your mind yet?

Jason

I’m in love with this woman.

Not just because she’s asking me about my masturbation practices. Not that her interest in that direction hurts. I’m thick and ready inside my wetsuit in a way that’s going to make unzipping a very delicate process. No, I knew I loved Naomi when I saw the shark. Knew I’d loved her for a while, because the idea of something happening to her made my life flash in front of my fucking eyes.

This thing between us will stall out before it starts. We both have places to be. Places we’re needed. Imminently. She’s not in my league, either, this goddess who can’t stop gasping and shaking in the aftermath of what happened down below. Christ, she’s always, always so gorgeous it’s painful, but with her eyes bright and unfocused, lips parted on labored breaths, hair in disarray, I’m captivated. I’m a goner. I’m her servant. It doesn’t matter what’s stacked against us when she’s in clear need of an anchor. Right now, in this moment, I couldn’t stop myself from being that anchor if I wanted to. It’s a force of nature.

I blink and the memory of her face paling in the pool of murky sunlight takes hold. The way the shark blocked her face as it slithered past, hiding her from me, stopping my heart in my chest. Unacceptable. Horrific. If something had happened to her, I wouldn’t have bothered kicking back to the surface. How could I let this happen? I’m supposed to protect her. I—

“Jason,” comes the murmur of her voice, weaving in and out of the sunlight that falls all around her, turning her into a fallen angel. “Do you need a battle story?”

“No,” I manage, swallowing, leaning in to press our mouths together. Needing to touch her, reassure myself she still has breath in her lungs. “No. I need you.” Her breath catches against my lips and I can feel her being attuning itself to mine. Click. Slide. My fingertips drag up her stomach and meet at her chest, tugging aside the triangles of her bikini top. “And to answer your question, I can’t remember what I used to think about when I fucked myself. You’ve replaced every image in my head. When I take myself in my hand now, it’s Naomi’s tight pussy. Naomi’s shy tongue.” I squeeze her nipples between my knuckles. “Naomi’s beauty queen tits.”

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