Page 22 of Extended Bridge (Passionate Beats #2)

His hand covers where I bussed him. “Any time.” He jogs to meet up with Pierce, Coop, and Río.

Luke and Bennett are in deep conversation by the entrance to the lead singer’s bus. Instead of intruding, I aim my feet toward my own bus. I could use some alone time to process before our late afternoon therapy session.

Unfortunately, Bennett has other ideas. I’m not ten feet away before he yells, “Jenna. Hold up. ”

Am I ready to face him and hear what Darren’s mother said? Fight off my attraction to the too-sexy man whose kisses—and more—bounce in my mind? With Darren’s consent, can I do this? My feet stall and I spin to see Bennett walking toward me at an even gait.

“Hey there. Have a nice afternoon with Tris?”

Not the opening line I expected, but I go with it. “I did, actually. He’s a really nice guy. I’m happy you all chose him to replace Darren. He has mad skills, true, but he also brings an even pace to the band. I like him.”

“He’s good people. I feel like what you see is what you get with him. I appreciate his honesty.”

When he doesn’t say anything more, I decide to jump right into the deep end. “How was your visit?”

“It was good. Sad. She’s still mourning her son’s loss, as I expect she’ll do for the rest of her life. His sister was there too and they’re picking up the pieces and moving on. His mother wants to start a music scholarship in Darren’s name.”

My eyebrows go up. “This is a great idea. I’m sure Darren would’ve loved it.”

“Yeah. Me too. Luke’s going to take care of it from our end. We hope to have it ready to go by the end of the tour.”

In about a year. “Sounds good.”

Under his breath, he mumbles, “Still not hugging you,” right before he grabs my hand. “Momma Hilliard also gave me stern advice to stay away from you. Said you’ll only bring discord to the band.”

Because my breath is shallow, I whisper, “What did you say?”

Bennett takes my other hand. “I told her that you’re my physical therapist. Reminded her of the fantastic job you did with Darren, rehabbing his wrist, and that you’re helping me heal.

” He squeezes and a shock only he can give me races through my arms. “I also told her to ignore the magazines. You’re no more of a black widow than any of us for not noticing Darren’s addiction. ”

My breathing accelerates with his every confession. Not to mention his acceptance of his non-role in Darren’s overdose. “How did she take it?”

“Marni, his sister,” at my nod he continues, “Scolded their mother, saying she was being unfair.”

The fact his sister defended me fills me with warmth. I nod, my gaze glued to our joined hands. “Still. His mother wants me gone.”

“No.”

My head bounces upward.

“Luke explained your role, while Coop said you’re a steadying influence on me.” He smirks. “Río added that you elevate the whole crew, and he’s happy you’re back with the band.”

“I can’t believe it.” I take his words in. “What did Pierce say?”

He squeezes my hands again. “Even 007 refused to badmouth you the way Darren’s mother wanted. Not going to lie, our bassist isn’t your biggest fan, but he did say you know physical therapy.”

Much more than I could have hoped for, especially after our interaction at breakfast. “Wow.”

“So you see, we’re all happy you’re here. With us. On tour. No matter what our former bandmate’s mother says. I also think her days of talking with the press are over.”

“I can’t thank you enough for everything you said to her. I’ve never been her favorite person.”

“She had some choice words for me about you.” Still holding both my hands, his knees bend so we’re eye-to-eye. “I’m not letting her get between us, Jenna. What we have needs to be explored.”

His declaration worms into my heart. The way he defended me to Darren’s mother proves he has so much love to give. After everything that happened onstage with Darren, I realize I need to be the one to unleash it.

He waits for me to process everything. I offer his hands a tentative squeeze. “I agree.”

Green eyes become wider. “Let’s go inside my bus. What I want to do to you isn’t fit for public consumption.”

I trail him up the stairs. I’m tired of fighting him.

Others.

Myself.

He’s awakened something within me I didn’t even know was there. The fact he’s my patient doesn’t mean a thing anymore. With Darren’s blessing, I’m finally ready to let loose.

He uses his body to push me against the refrigerator. With only a few inches between us, he asks, “Can I hug you now?”

I close my eyes. “Yes.”

A growl emanates from him, more compelling than anything he rumbles on stage. “This is it, Jenna. You and me. I’m not going to be able to hold back.”

I gaze into his green eyes, which have taken on a deeper hue. “You’re not healed.”

“Fuck that. I’m healed enough for this.”

His lips crash down on mine, stealing my breath and all of my thoughts. He wraps his arms around my body, pressing his entire body into mine so his growing hardness juts into my stomach. His tongue traces my lips, seeking entrance into my mouth. Which I give him.

Because he’s the man who defends and supports and heals me. As I hope I do him. In this moment, I’m all his.

My hands snake around his neck as I melt into his long, lithe body. We kiss like this for seconds, minutes, hours. Days. Time becomes meaningless.

Bennett breaks away from me, both of us gasping for air. He doesn’t wait more than a couple of beats before kissing down my throat, lingering on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

“You smell of bourbon and vanilla.”

I drop my head onto the wall. “It’s my perfume.”

He sniffs. “Plus something uniquely Jenna you can’t get from a bottle. A hint of perfection.”

His description makes my knees weak. But for the fact I’m holding onto him, I’d be a puddle on the floor. I interlace my fingers around his neck and absorb his own unique woodsy scent. “I’m hardly perfect.”

“Maybe you are to me.”

He recaptures my lips, his tongue immediately dancing with mine. More. I want more of this man. My hands slide down his torso to the bottom of his shirt, which I pull up. Our kiss breaks only to rid him of the offending material, then his naked torso presses into mine again.

My fingers skim his muscled arms, reveling in his defined shoulders.

Needing air, I break us apart and stare at the way his chest rises and falls rapidly.

How his tattoos dance on his muscular arms. I’m doing this to Bennett.

Me. A mere physical therapist from Long Island.

Which brings me to the reason I’m here. “How’s the thigh? ”

“Given all the blood flow to it, the muscle pull is at a zero. My groin, however, is hurting.”

Mentally, I give his pain level a two. As for his perceived injury, I’m sure he’s not feeling any pain there. I cup his junk. “This hurts?”

I’m rewarded by another growl. “You could use your magic on it.” He does a slow blink. “To make it feel all better.”

My fingers tighten around his expanding appendage, causing him to suck in his breath. “Sounds painful,” I murmur. I tighten around him again.

In a whirl of motion, he steps away from me, yanks my shirt over my head and discards my bra.

Then, he grabs my hand and directs me toward the back bedroom.

Over his shoulder, he says, “But for my stupid injury, I’d have you in my arms right now as I carried you to the bed.

Better yet, I’d have picked you up and wrapped your legs around my waist as I navigated to any flat surface so I could get inside of you sooner. So, you see, I am making concessions.”

A giggle bubbles up. “Your physical therapist appreciates it.” A second later I step into the bedroom, both of us half naked and breathing hard.

Bennett pushes hair away from my face. “Damn. The things I want to do to you, Jenna. I want to make you scream my name so loud the people all the way in New Jersey will hear you. I want to make you forget your own name. I want to make you unable to remember anyone else who’s ever been inside you.”

My head spins at his words. When he closes the gap between us, I whimper.

He doesn’t waste a second, rather devours my mouth while his fingers knead both breasts.

With one, he circles my nipple while the other squeezes my entire B-cup.

With the right bra, though, I can almost be a C-cup.

The way he focuses on them makes me feel like I have double-Ds.

“Bennett,” I breathe. My next words are lost as he drops his lips to replace his fingers playing with my pebbled nipple. He takes it between his teeth and nips, shooting streaks of desire directly to my core.

It’s harder and harder for me to stand on my own two feet. “Ah!”

I’m rewarded by a growly chuckle. In the time it takes for him to move from one breast to the other, he murmurs, “You’re getting there. But you still know your name.” He latches onto the twin and repeats his same moves. Sparks of desire intensify.

Not one to be outdone, my fingers undo the button at his fly. With as much care as I can muster given my raging passion, I pull the zipper downward with an electrifying zip.

“Two can play this game, Sweetheart.” He tugs my leggings down my legs, leaving me in only my panties. “Open your legs for me.”

I’m unable to do anything more than follow his directions. His left knee insinuates itself between my open thighs and pulls me upward, leaving me under his control. While he nibbles on my right breast, his jean-covered thigh pumps forward and backward.

My heartbeat increases. I want him naked. Hell, I want to shred my own panties. At this moment, though, I can’t articulate any of it. I’m completely at his mercy. I glance at his face on my breast. I need to see his eyes. “Bennett.”

Blown-out pupils rise to meet my gaze. “Damn. You can still talk.”

He pulls his left knee up higher so only my toes are on the floor, then he rubs against me at the perfect spot. Can I come from this stimulation alone? I emit a low moan.

“Better.”