Page 14 of Jilted

Chapter Twelve

I t had been two days. All the power on the island was still out, and it was hotter than hell in the bungalow.

To make matters worse, the rain hadn’t stopped, either, which meant they were stuck inside – together.

Under normal circumstances that wouldn’t bother him, but these weren’t normal circumstances.

He’d kissed Amy a few nights ago, and they’d showered together, too, but things hadn’t gone any further.

And he wanted them to. It was all he’d been able to think about and simply being near her was driving him insane.

“Ohh, there’s a piece of cheesecake left from dinner last night,” Amy said from the kitchen.

Her voice drew his attention away from the magazine he’d been holding but not reading. They’d put buckets of ice in the refrigerator to keep some things cool until the power returned.

“Wanna share it?” she asked.

Brett smiled. Cheesecake was Amy’s favorite. “No, you go ahead.”

“Suit yourself.”

He watched as Amy got a fork and took a bite.

She put it in her mouth and slowly dragged the fork back through her lips.

She closed her eyes and moaned with appreciation.

He felt his cock hardening as he watched her.

Fuck me, he mentally groaned. He lifted the magazine, hoping to hell that it would distract him from her.

But then she moaned again, and he snapped. “Christ, Amy, are you eating or having an orgasm out there?”

“Sorry,” she said around a mouthful of food. Swallowing, she added, “This is just so good. Are you sure you don’t’ want some?”

Oh, he wanted some all right – some of her. “No,” he said, focusing on the magazine again.

A few minutes later, Amy walked into the living room.

Brett pretended not to notice, or care, but when she was dressed like that, it was impossible not to.

She was wearing a pair of really short, cotton shorts – short enough that he could see the bottom of her ass cheeks hanging out – and a very thin, spaghetti strap tank top.

..with no bra. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her wear something like that, but it was the first time his hands had itched to rip them off her body.

Amy plopped down on the opposite end of the couch, put her feet up on the coffee table, and picked up the book she’d been reading earlier.

Brett sighed with relief. There was nothing she could do while reading that would turn him on.

Or so he thought – until she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and smiled faintly.

He was instantly flooded with the memory of kissing her, of how he’d nipped at that very lip, and how she’d moaned in response.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep, calming breath – which seemed to help; until he opened his eyes and saw her rubbing her hand around her neck and throat. Then, with that same hand, she gathered her hair and held it atop her head.

His gaze went straight to her neck. The memory of kissing her there while in the shower consumed him.

The way she’d responded, the taste of her, the smell of her perfume mingling with the scent of the beach – it was enough to make him want to tear the book from her hands and take her right here on the couch.

By the grace of God, he was able to control himself.

But then she did something that sent him over the edge.

She dragged her foot up her leg and back down again.

He watched, mesmerized. She had the most stunning legs he’d ever seen, and he’d fantasized more than once about how they’d feel wrapped around him.

They were his weakness. He wondered if she was doing all of this on purpose.

“Dammit, Amy.” Brett stood and dropped the magazine on the table. “What with the clothes? And the hair thing...the legs...I need some damn air.”

Amy lowered her book and stared at him. He didn’t say anything else; he just headed for the stairs. The only place he could get air without getting soaked was the balcony off the bedroom. He felt her gaze on him as he made his way up the stairs.

He knew he’d shocked her. Hell, he’d shocked himself. It wasn’t like him to have an outburst like that. Shit, he didn’t even know what he’d said to her. It made no sense to him; he could only imagine how stupid it sounded to her.

Brett pushed open the balcony doors and stepped outside, inhaling deeply.

There was nothing quite like the unique smell of a rainstorm.

It was cleansing, which was exactly what he needed – to cleanse his mind of all the inappropriate thoughts he was having about Amy.

He gripped the railing and lowered his head.

What the hell was he going to do about Amy?

“Mind telling me what that was all about?” Amy said from behind him.

He didn’t trust himself to look at her, so he didn’t turn around, and he didn’t say anything, either. She wanted an answer that he didn’t have.

“Look, Brett, you asked me to come here with you because you didn’t want to be alone, but it seems like right now, you can’t stand to be in the same room with me.”

Yup, that’s what he’d told her – that he didn’t want to be alone, and it was true, but the part about not wanting to be in the same room with her was all wrong. If he had his way, he’d be in the same damn bed with her.

“I’m here for you, Brett, but give me a hint, would ya? Tell me what I can do to help you. Whatever it is, whatever you need...just tell me.”

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

Brett turned to face her and was momentarily awestruck by how sexy she was. It was like he was seeing her for the very first time – again. He took several steps toward her.

“Close your eyes,” he repeated.

“Why? How is that going to help you?”

He smiled. “Just do it.”

“I get it; you don’t want to talk about Vanessa. Fine, I won’t push you to talk. But this,” she waved her hand in front of him, “this is just crazy. Are you sure you’re not sick? Are you running a fever?”

“No, I’m not sick or feverish.” He took another step closer and was now face to face with her. “Close your eyes, and I will tell you how you can help me.”

With an aggravated sigh, Amy closed her eyes. Brett took a moment to let his hungry gaze wander over her body, lingering on her perky breasts, down to her flat stomach, and her long legs. He licked his lips and then lowered his head until his mouth was poised over hers.

“Keep them closed,” he said.

From the way she slightly jerked back, he knew she was surprised by how close he was. “They are,” she said.

Keeping his hands by his side, he moved away from her lips and to her ear.

“I want you to imagine what it would feel like to have my lips kissing every inch of your body.” He heard Amy’s breath hitch, and he continued.

“Imagine my hands tracing the path my lips had taken, exploring and caressing your soft skin.”

“Brett...I...”

“Shh.” He put his finger to her lips and looked at her. “Keep your eyes closed.”

She made no attempt to move, other than to swallow and take a deep breath.

This time, when he spoke, he kept his gaze on her face, wanting to see her reaction. “Now I want you to imagine how it would feel to have my cock sliding into you, fucking you, making you come.”

Amy sucked in a breath, and he saw the pulse in her neck quicken. His words had hit their mark.

Without missing a beat, he said, “And now imagine being trapped inside this bungalow with me, all those thoughts racing through your mind like a broken record, knowing there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop them or make them go away.

” He paused, waiting to see if she’d say anything.

When she didn’t, he continued. “But that’s not even the problem.

Not really.” Brett once again put his lips close to hers. “Open your eyes,” he whispered.

She did, and then said, “If that’s not the problem, then what is?”

Brett held her gaze, his mouth ready to claim hers at any second. “I don’t want to make those thoughts go away.”

“You don’t?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. They were standing so close; her chest bumped his with every labored breath she took.

“No.” He put his hand on her hip and pulled her tight to his body. The fact that she didn’t resist or push him away was a good sign.

Amy put her hands on his biceps, her touch so soft he might have missed it if he wasn’t watching every move she made. “Then what do you want?”

“You.”