“That’s you,” I informed him acidly.
He grinned. “I know. I’m the only person lucky you’re totally clueless.”
Contradictorily, I felt all warm and gushy inside from his earlier Brock-like compliments at the same time I was totally pissed and the totally pissed won out so I pushed against his chest with my hands while announcing, “I’ve decided I want a beer. Let me up.”
He ignored my mood and I knew this when his hand with his beer wrapped around my back and he brought me even closer.
“I’m also lucky my girl had a craving to take a walk on the wild side,” he muttered, his quicksilver eyes dropping to my mouth.
Mm. I knew what that meant.
I also knew that for three months, one of the things I seriously missed was making out with him.
And, last, I knew at that moment I was not prepared to go there.
“Brock,” I hissed and again pushed.
He ignored my push, his eyes lifted to mine and he whispered, “I can’t make any promises about where this is gonna go but what I can do is give you me, keep you safe while you walk on the wild side and work my ass off to do what I can so this never goes bad for you.”
His quiet words made me stop pushing, they also made that warm gushiness warmer and gushier and I stared at him.
Brock kept talking. “That’s all I got to give, babe, but I’ll also tell you the only thing I’ll take is what you’re willing to give back except you need to give me what that ass**le left in you so you don’t have to carry it around anymore.”
Oh God.
Oh God.
Okay, maybe he did know a little something about women who’d been violated.
I felt my body ease in his hold but still, I told him honestly, “I don’t think I can give you that.”
“Yes you can, Tess,” he replied softly. “He cut you deep and that kinda cut leaves an ugly scar but my girl hasn’t drifted clueless and without a man for six years because of a scar. I didn’t get it because you didn’t talk about him when we were together but I get it now. My girl’s done that because he left something ugly with you and you have to unload it, Tess. You have to let it go so you can see me right now the way I really am and how I am with you. You have to let it go so when you let me in and, baby,” his hand squeezed my neck, “when I say that, I mean when you let me in, the only thing you feel is me moving inside you and the only thing you see is me likin’ right where I am.”
“I already let you in,” I whispered my reminder and I saw a shadow pass through his eyes before he replied.
“Yeah, darlin’, you did but after you came, you looked at me like I was the only guy in the whole f**kin’ world and then you called me Jake.”
“I thought that was your name,” I defended and his hand at my neck and arm around me gave me a squeeze.
“I know that but when I’m inside you, I wanna hear you say my name. That was between us then, for me. And now that’s gone. I wanna clear the path of what might be between us for you. Can you get that?”
That was when my mouth suddenly formed the words, “Who’s Darla?”
The heavy warmth of his mood disappeared in an instant and the static came back.
“What the f**k?” he asked softly.
“Who’s Darla?” I repeated.
His eyes narrowed and his jaw turned to stone before he clipped out, “Who told you about Darla?”
I stared at him. Then I decided what I saw I did not like.
Then I whispered, “Right,” and started pushing again.
This didn’t go well for me mainly because he let me go with one arm only to lean us both to the side to put his beer on the table then he whipped me around so I was on my back in my couch and he was not only on top of me but also his h*ps were between mine.
Our last position wasn’t conducive to us having an intense chat about the future of our relationship in a way where he couldn’t boggle my mind with his hotness, sexiness and outspoken honesty but this one was way worse.
“I’ll ask again, Tess,” he growled. “Who told you about Darla? Was it Elvira?”
“Um…” I mumbled, his eyes narrowed so I rushed on. “She was at the shower with her girls and one of those girls was a lady called Gwen. Gwen told me.”
His neck bent back so his eyes could look over my head and he snarled, “Fuck. ”
“Brock –” I started and his eyes sliced back to me.
“Who Darla is, is not you,” he bit out.
“But –”
“No, Tess, she is not you. I told you earlier I liked my job for the four months it meant me bein’ with you. Suffice it to say, I did not at all like my job when the only play I had to make was bein’ with her.”
“You’re hot,” I said softly.
“What?” he clipped roughly.
“You’re hot,” I repeated. “I can see this. I can see them sending you in when they –”
“Unh-unh,” he shook his head, pressing his body into mine as the electricity snapped and sparked through the room. “I am not the DEA’s resident prostitute with a dick,” he growled.
“The play I made with Darla was my choice, a long job, a sacrifice I decided I had to make
‘cause the life I was livin’ bein’ under that cover I had to get out of. It was sucking me under.
It was suffocating me. That shit, those people I had to spend time with, no contact with clean air, decent living, good folk, it was dragging me down. I had to make a statue of liberty play and I made it. And the f**k of it was, I made that sacrifice and the whole thing got f**ked in a bad way, Tess, where I had to watch those morons take a good man down and almost take him out. You were not that. My assignment with you was light cover. Getting close. Nosing around. They investigated your finances, your bakery and they knew you were less likely a suspect involved in his operation and more likely a possible witness and knew he was jacked but the amount of communication and your name on his accounts, they had to be sure. I took it where it went because after about an hour with you I knew you were clean and I knew where I wanted to take it after the investigation was over. I came in late on this one because I’d just come off that last one. And when I took that job, you were the light of a warm, sunny day, Tess. Darla was the dead of a cold, dark f**kin’ night.” His face got close and his voice got low when he finished, “It felt good to feel the sun again.”