Page 40

“You aren’t surprised to see me.” He searched my face as though once more attempting to read my every thought.
“I caught sight of you earlier,” I admitted, my insides quaking.
“Why didn’t you make your way over to our group and greet us like you’ve done with everyone else?”
I glanced beyond Jarod, looking for his date, dismissing the fact he sounded jealous as hell. “You seemed quite content with your little brunette. Figured I wouldn’t interrupt what might be a good thing.”
“You’re the only good thing I’ve had in two weeks.”
My eyebrows shot up, his serious tone more convincing than his words. Did he mean he hadn’t enjoyed his night job since being with me? Or that he hadn’t been contracted with any clients since? “So you’re what…just eye candy for the night?” I couldn’t help but dig a little.
“Wendy is my co-worker, and Bradley extended an invite to us.”
I bit my tongue to point out that his hands on Wendy didn’t look so platonic to me.
A slow smirk curled his lips as though he read my mind. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m not,” I stated, my chin lifting slightly. Better that than call him out in return and prove he spoke the truth.
Jarod leaned close, his exhale ghosting over my ear. “Liar. I see the same emotions on your face that I experienced when Jackson got all up in your personal space.”
My eyelids fluttered shut as a shiver rippled over me. Goose bumps rose along my arms and legs in its wake. “I don’t want him,” I murmured, not sure why I attempted to soothe Jarod when nothing but sex would ever be the only option between us.
“I could tell, but that’s not helping my issue.”
I pulled back to meet his dark, probing eyes. Like a bubble settled around us, outside noise faded. I could hear my heartbeat thrumming in my ears, could taste the sweetness on his exhales, could literally feel the electrical charges zapping in the inches separating our bodies.
Jarod’s gaze dropped to my mouth, and he stroked his thumb along my jawline. “You’ve bewitched me, Christine, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
I huffed a snort, his description identical to how I felt about him. “It’s called insta-lust. Chemistry,” I attempted to brush whatever it was between us off as nothing special.
His focus once more raised to my eyes, sending a rush of warmth between my thighs. “Is that all this is, Christine?”
I couldn’t answer.
“Keeping cool, being in control while making decisions, is something I pride myself in,” Jarod stated quietly, grasping the side of my neck with his warm palm and tempting me to melt into his touch. “But something about you calls to the wildness inside me. Nothing has drugged me in such a way, not even living the life of an escort where I allow that part of myself its freedom. I do my research before making a plan or decision about people—for very good reason.”
“Your parents,” I offered what I expected lay behind his careful nature.
Jarod nodded, his thumb stroking beneath my ear sending another shiver down my spine.
“My dad is that way because of my mom,” I stated quietly.
Silence settled between us for a few seconds as I ignored his soft touch and worked out the difference between Jarod and I. He chose heedful consideration in life while I’d gone the opposite due to my childhood trauma. I wanted to ask him what he thought about the undeniable connection between us. I wondered how he felt about the draw to set aside his fears and his stance to only live in the moment beneath a contract that would protect his emotions.
The struggle lay in his eyes, one I felt all too strongly—but the memories of Dad’s sobs, the utter devastation the loss of his lover had inflicted on his heart lay like a boulder in my mind.
Swallowing against thickness wanting to close off my throat, I tipped my chin up, grasping for the cold inner bitch I desperately needed at that moment. “I feel the sparks between us, Jarod, and I’ve ignited beneath the flames of your passion, but all fires burn out.”
Leaving nothing but ruination and death behind.
Jarod dropped his hold from my neck and stepped back. Reading him came easily since I experienced the same disappointment, the same yearning to prove that the truth I spoke wasn’t reality. He might not have witnessed the sorrow I had, my reasons for being so set against allowing love to control my heart, but he’d seen enough as a child.
Some wounds just couldn’t be overcome.
Chapter 18
Jarod