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Unable to lie beside him and not touch, Jazz raised a tentative hand and lightly traced the curve of his mouth as it tilted up in a smile. She had dreamed of kissing those lips so often that she had thought she would know their taste, their texture. But when he’d kissed her the first time, it had been better than she could have ever believed possible. She wanted to taste them again.
“What do you want, Jazz?”
“You, Xavier,” she whispered. “Just you.”
In a swift, graceful move, Xavier rose up and hovered over her. Straddling her hips, he braced himself with his hands on either side of her shoulders. Eyes glittering with need, sensual mouth still turned up, he looked like a beautiful pirate assessing his bounty. From the gleam in his eyes, he liked what he saw.
Apparently seeing the acceptance in her expression, he sat up slightly and tugged his T-shirt over his head. Jazz’s breath caught in her throat. She’d seen him shirtless numerous times, but she’d never had the opportunity to reach out and touch the granite-hard muscles. His skin was naturally bronze from his mother’s side of the family, and the instant she touched him, her stomach did a double dip. He was like warm, hard silk that her fingers longed to explore. Before she got farther than the eight-pack abs, Xavier took her hands, kissed each one, and then raised them over her head. Then he pulled her T-shirt over her head.
Jazz wasn’t ashamed of her body. She was naturally small and not especially curvaceous, but with her weight loss, she wasn’t particularly fond of how she looked right now. The expression on Xavier’s face told her he didn’t agree. Along with a ravenous need that made her feel gloriously feminine and desirable, his heated gaze filled with awe and wonder as it roamed over her body.
“You’re beautiful, Jazz.” The husky gravel in his voice sent fire throughout her bloodstream.
Before she could consider a response, Xavier bent down and proceeded to show her exactly how much he wanted her. With his mouth, his hands, his words, every caress, every kiss, and every growling word, he created a maelstrom of desire she’d never experienced. Need grew and expanded until she was solely a sentient being, glorying and reveling in everything he gave her.
By the time he slid into her, Jazz was not much more than a whirlpool of heated desire, wanting only to reach that exquisite peak, but almost afraid to arrive because she never wanted the pleasure to stop. With every ebb and flow of Xavier’s body into hers, she gained a new understanding of giving and receiving physical gratification. She felt treasured, desired, and, most of all, adored.
Almost at the pinnacle, nanoseconds away from the ultimate ecstasy, Xavier growled into her ear, “Come with me, baby.”
Jazz wrapped her arms around Xavier’s shoulders, her legs around his waist, and welcomed the pleasure she’d only ever experienced in this man’s arms.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dressed in a ragged pair of shorts and nothing else, Xavier sat on the back porch and slugged down his second cup of coffee. Even though he wanted nothing more than to go back and hold Jazz, he needed to get his head back on straight. Being around her right now seriously screwed with that.
He hadn’t planned what had happened. When she’d asked him to stay with her, he’d intended to hold her if she needed his reassurance. Or, if she’d had another nightmare, he wanted to be close enough to wake her before it got too bad. Instead, she’d told him she wanted him, and without a second thought, that’s what she’d gotten.
No, he hadn’t forced her, and yes, she’d been responsive and eager, but had it been too soon? He’d done his best not to hurt her. She was still weak and recovering from her ordeal, so he hadn’t exactly ravaged her like a wild animal, but still, he felt like he’d taken advantage of her in some way.
Even before he’d fallen for her, he’d always felt protective of Jazz. Yes, she was fine-boned and delicate-looking, and next to her, he felt like a giant. But that wasn’t the biggest reason. Not only had Jazz been hurt a lot in her life, she had a charming, unaffected kind of innocence that made him want to fix everything for her. She often called him out on his actions for being so solicitous with her, and he did his best not to go overboard, but it was hard. He would fight demons to keep her from being harmed.
And now another challenge to keep her from being hurt had been presented. She believed her brother was an assassin who had taken out Franco Bass. If it had been anyone else, he might’ve questioned whether she’d really seen her brother or just someone who’d resembled him. Identifying someone in a matter of seconds with adrenaline pumping through you could be difficult, if not impossible. And considering the emotions that were involved, doubting her might seem reasonable. But this was Jazz. Her recall was second to none. Even if her emotions were all over the place, he trusted that the man she saw was indeed Brody McAlister.
So what did that mean? Did McAlister work for the Wren Project? He could see why she’d be worried about OZ going after him. Xavier didn’t condone that she’d gone off on her own to try to find him, but he could definitely understand where she’d been coming from.
She needed to tell Ash about this, and it needed to be soon. She’d fallen back asleep after they’d made love, but when she woke and after she’d had some breakfast, he was going to encourage her to call him and get it over with. Not only did Ash need to know because this was an ongoing investigation, having it hanging over her head was only going to make her feel worse.
The phone on the table beside him buzzed, and without looking at the screen, he already knew it was his boss, as if he and Ash were mentally connected.
“Hey, Ash. Anything new?”
“Not sure yet. Serena is following a lead that might give us something. I’ll let you know if it does. I’m just checking in to see how Jazz is doing.”
“She’s getting stronger.”
“But…?”
He wouldn’t reveal to Ash what Jazz had told him. That was her story to tell. However, he knew Ash was asking about something else. Jazz might’ve had her secrets, but Xavier had one, too. A secret that would create even more questions and worry for her. He’d put off giving her the intel until she was stronger. After last night’s confession, he knew he was living on borrowed time.
“Soon, Ash. I’ll tell her soon. But before I do, Jazz has something she needs to talk to you about.”
“So she told you why she went off on her own?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t give it to me?”
“No, this is her story, but I do want to say one thing.”