More of You (Confessions of the Heart 1) - Page 71

Hopping out of my car, I scanned the area, making sure it was clear before I rounded the front. Opening her door, I took her hand and helped her down.

She sagged into me.

Vanilla and rose.

Delicate purple petals.

I wanted to bathe in them, too.

Our feet crunched on the pebbles, her heels sinking in, her weight against my side.

She leaned away a bit when we got to the porch steps.

This part of the porch was complete thanks to the crew that had worked through the week, this gorgeous place sitting in the darkness, a shadow of what we’d wanted.

Of all I’d lost.

I was the fool who tortured myself with the barest taste of it. Taunting myself with what it might have been like.

She is worth it. She is worth it. She has always been worth it.

I fumbled through the locks while Faith waited two steps behind me. Her breaths heaved. Held in the humid night air.

A gust of relief hit me when I finally had the door open. Needing reprieve. To get away.

Because I could feel myself tipping.

Sliding.

Stumbling at the edge.

I started to walk inside but froze in my tracks when I heard the ragged word that came from behind.

“Jace.”

Prickles lifted at my nape, and I knew I should ignore it. Ignore her and her plea, go up to my room, and lock the door.

But she’d always made me weak.

Slowly, I turned around. Faith was right there, staring at me.

So goddamned gorgeous she was the only thing I could see.

Inciting the energy that whipped and churned.

It lashed at my skin. Lashed at my spirit.

It pressed and pulsed. The connection we’d always shared pulled taut. Her fingertips stroked the glowing flesh of her exposed chest, right between her breasts.

That was it.

I snapped.

Erased the space and had her spun around and pinned to the exterior wall in a second flat.

It was as if my whole damn soul moaned in relief.

My hands burrowed in the twist of her hair, and my mouth took over for my brain.

It wasn’t gentle. This brutal kiss was a demand.

My tongue plundering. Ransacking. Searching for what had been mine.

Right in the exact same spot where we’d always found ourselves all those years ago.

Delicate hands clutched at me, nails digging into my skin.

Hate. Hurt. Love. Desperation.

They swelled and crashed, her emotions overpowering. Filling me. Invading me.

“Beauty,” I muttered at her mouth, pressing against her body, needing more.

Needing everything.

I rocked against her.

Heat blazed.

She whimpered. “Jace. Jace. Why?”

I could feel it shattering. The flimsy understanding we’d made. It’d been nothing but a fool’s game from the start.

My hands slid over her body.

Cupping her curves.

Memorizing.

Remembering.

I cinched down on her narrow waist and pressed my aching cock to her belly. Dying to be inside her. To take her and love her and promise I’d never let her go.

Fuck. What was I doing?

I searched for strength. To remember why I was here. What I was going to ruin if I gave in.

I forced myself away, my breaths ragged where I panted them into the inch of space between us.

Hers were choppy, hiccupped cries that filled the night.

I stumbled back a step, and she stared at me in shock.

That was right before she clapped her hand over her mouth and released a horrified sob.

“Faith.” I reached for her.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she backed away. “Please, don’t touch me.”

I roughed a frustrated hand through my hair.

I knew better. I knew better.

“I’m so damned sorry.”

She shook her head, cutting me off before she turned and fled up the stairs.

Twenty-Seven

Jace

Eighteen Years Old

Sweat dripped like a leaky faucet down Jace’s back, his shirt drenched from the adrenaline that pumped overtime, shame oozing from his pores.

Steven yanked on the straps of Jace’s backpack, jerking Jace forward, their noses close to touching.

The stench of greed and corruption filled Jace’s nostrils.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Steven said, his voice hard, words a threat. “You pick it up here. You take it across town and let me know when it’s delivered. Nothin’ to it.”

Disgust twisted up Jace’s face, the weight of what Steven had just placed in his backpack feeling like a million pounds.

Or maybe the fucking world.

“Hard? We all know you take the easy way out. You don’t give a shit about anything but money and the fastest way to get it.”

Jace should have kept his mouth shut. But he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop the spill of hatred from his tongue.

Steven cracked a menacing grin. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you to work smarter, not harder. Although, I have to admit, I don’t mind working her over nice and hard.”

Nausea swirled in Jace’s stomach, and he knew the piece of shit was baiting him. “You think I give a shit about her?”

A cool, wicked arrogance seeped from Steven. “No. I don’t. We all know what’s important to you. Who is. You wouldn’t want your poor little brother to have to pay for your mistakes now, would you?”

Tags: A.L. Jackson Confessions of the Heart Romance
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