Текст книги "Jesse"

Автор книги: Jo Raven

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Twenty One

Amber

Armed with the lion pendant that I’ve wrapped up in red paper, dressed in an old, white and yellow summer dress that flatters my curves—or so Kayla told me—I stand outside Jesse’s apartment. According to my meticulous calculations, he should be back from working at the café by now.

I’m aware I’m taking a risk. He could be out. But Ev did say he doesn’t go out much these days. Or nights. Whatever.

And if he isn’t in… Then I’ll call him. I’ve made up my mind not to wait any longer.

The doorbell rings, and a second later the door swings open, held by a wild-eyed Travis.

I take a step back, wondering what’s going on. “Hey, Travis.”

“Amber. Is Jesse with you?” He looks around me, as if Jesse might be hiding behind my back. What with Jesse being so tiny and all…

“Is he out?”

“Yes! I mean, he isn’t here. Where he should have been, because we were going to bake muffins together.”

I gape at him, wondering briefly if this is a hallucination. “You were going to bake muffins. With Jesse Lee.”

“Yes. He said you taught him how to make them. Breakfast muffins. And he’s been really down recently, and I thought…” He stops, frowns at me. “Because of you.”

Whoa. Just a sec. “He was down because of me?”

“Read my lips.” Travis points at his mouth, which bears a smear of red lipstick. Nice. “He’s been staring at the drawings he made of you. Baking your damn muffins. Frankly, it makes me scared for the human race.”

“You make me scared for the human race,” I mutter.

“Why don’t you come in? You could wait for him, if you like.” He opens the door wider, and I notice he’s only wearing low-slung denim shorts.

Trying not to stare at his well-defined abs and more traces of red lipstick on his pecs, I sidle into the apartment, slightly dazed.

“You said he was supposed to be home by now?”

“An hour ago. Normally I wouldn’t worry, but Jesse is like clockwork. When he says he’ll be there, he is. The man can’t lie and won’t break a promise. It’s not in his genes.”

He can’t lie. He won’t break a promise. Crap. The evidence is mounting. He’s been telling me the truth all along, and I…

Oh God. I didn’t believe him.

“Amber is here,” Travis announces as he guides me into the living room, and I’m in for another shock.

Jesse’s other two roommates are there, sitting and looking… somehow expectant. Anxious.

“You found J?” the tall, wide-shouldered one asks. Cage, or Gage, my memory informs me.

“Unless he’s become invisible or decided to wait outside his own home, I don’t think he has,” the other one says. Alexander something. He drags a hand through his chin-length, blondish hair. “I’m telling you, something happened to him.”

“And what are you, a fucking medium?”

“No, I just have a fucking brain, unlike you.”

Travis groans. “Shut up, dickheads.” He turns back to me. I realize I’ve been standing there, open-mouthed, listening to this conversation.

I close my mouth and clear my throat. Open my mouth again. “I never got the impression from Jesse that you were so concerned about him. I mean,” oh great, way to put your foot in your mouth, Amber, “that you were so close. Baking together and all.”

“Goddammit, it was just one time,” Gage barks and looks contrite when I flinch. “Nobody bakes here. Nobody cooks. Not even Jesse. But Travis thought it wouldn’t hurt to learn how to make those muffins. Jesse seems to like them.” He grunts. “He seems to like you even better, but you vanished from his life.”

I’m torn between laughing hysterically and crying. “Where is he? Have you tried his cell?”

“No answer. Why don’t you try it?”

“Me?” Laughter wins out. “I haven’t returned his calls or texted him back in weeks.”

Three pairs of accusing eyes turn on me. Ow.

Under their watchful gazes, I pull out my cell and swallow hard. “You know this isn’t going to work, right? You should try calling him again. Maybe his battery has run out, or…”

They’re still staring at me. Well, well. I kinda think that, no matter what Jesse says or believes, he’s made lots of good friends. They’re even ready to bake for him.

Who would’ve known?

I shoot them a nervous smile and call Jesse’s number. I honestly don’t expect him to answer—not after I blew him off so many times. Not after telling him I don’t trust him.

The call connects. There’s a pause, an indrawn breath.

Then I hear his low, bass voice. “Embers?”

God, I missed his voice so much. Missed him. “Hey.” I turn away. I don’t want his roommates to see me, in case I fall apart. “How is it going?”

Another pause, and I’m afraid he’ll hang up, but he puffs out a sigh. “It has been… kinda rough, to tell you the truth. You okay?”

He’s killing me, asking if I am okay. “Yeah. I’m fine. Your roommates were worried about you. Said you weren’t answering your phone.”

“My roommates?” I can hear the curiosity in his question. “My cell… fell. Case cracked. I thought it wouldn’t work again, but it does. I just turned it back on.”

“Oh, good. Stroke of luck.” Gage has gotten up and walked around the room to stand in front of me. Startled, I take a step back and give him a thumbs up. “So everything’s fine, then? Will you be coming back home?”

“Home.” His voice cracks, and worry slams into me. “Damn, Embers.”

“What’s wrong?” My heart starts to race. “Tell me.”

“It’s just that…” He swallows so hard I hear it over the phone. “Is it really you? Is this a prank? Because I’m not up to it right now.”

“It’s not a prank. I came over to your apartment to see you, and you weren’t here. Are you somewhere having fun?”

He laughs softly, and I find myself smiling. “Sorta. I guess when the painkillers kick in it might be fun. I’m at the hospital, but I’m being discharged, so I can go home.”

“The hospital?” I screech, my smile evaporating, and suddenly I’m surrounded by three huge, scowling guys. Eep. “Why? What happened? My God, are you all right?”

“Yeah, but Seth… He has a broken leg, and he’s calling Shane to pick him up. Maybe he can give me a ride.”

“The hell. I’m coming right now to pick you up. Where are you exactly?”

He protests, but gives me the name of the hospital. St. Mary’s.

“On my way,” I say. Love you. And I disconnect.

The guys make as if to follow me out, but I nail them with a stern look, and they backpedal.

Good.

“He’s okay. I’m going to him, but I’ll call you later and tell you more,” I promise them. “I swear.”

As if they could hold me back. Nothing can.

***

The emergency room is a mess of crying children, yelling mothers, people moaning and weeping and talking. There’s an air of stoic suffering that gets to me whenever I walk into a hospital. Not that I’ve been often, thank God.

I’ve also never had to look for someone admitted after coming to the emergency room, and cold sweat coats my palms as I look around for an information desk. Shaking the feeling a hundred pairs of eyes are trained on me, that the whispers going around are about me, making fun of me, saying mean things about me, I locate the desk and walk toward it.

This isn’t about me. Not everything is about me.

I need to find Jesse. Talking to him feels more urgent than ever. The thought of him hurt is turning my insides into knots.

“How can I help you?” says the guy behind the desk, who’s multitasking with the phone receiver held between his ear and shoulder, typing something on the computer and looking at me in the friendly yet dazed way of someone about to tear at the seams.

“I’m looking for Jesse Lee. He came in…” I gasp, because from the corner of my eye I see the exact person I’m looking for coming out of an office.

I’m sure it’s him, tall and broad-shouldered, his full lips set in a flat line, those stunning eyes dull.

Then he turns, and I stifle a gasp as I move toward him. He looks terrible, his jaw swollen, one eye black and swollen shut, dried blood at the corner of his mouth.

He’s beautiful.

“Embers,” he whispers, his voice choked, and it breaks me out of my trance. “You came.”

I want to ask a million questions—what happened? Who hurt you? Are you okay?—but I don’t. Not when he looks so utterly shattered. His eyes are suspiciously bright, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought Jesse Lee is holding back tears.

So I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around him. He hisses and flinches, and I belatedly realize he’s also hurt in places I don’t see, but when I try to pull back, he holds on to me and won’t let go.

As if we aren’t standing in the middle of the waiting room, with dozens of people milling around us. As if we are alone and the world has ceased to exist outside of him and me.

“I believe you,” I say against his chest, inhaling his scent of cinnamon and smoke and musk, sighing in pleasure. Under my arms, under my hands, he is as I remembered—no, better than I remembered, strong and good and real. “About Cassie at the wedding. About everything you have told me. I trust you.”

He groans as if my words are burning him, but he nuzzles my hair, peppers my forehead with tiny kisses, murmurs my name.

When he lets go at last, I look up at him.

“You’re all I want,” he says, his heart in his eyes. “Other girls don’t matter. It’s only you.”

“Why?” I ask, the word leaving my mouth before I can rein it in.

“Because you haven’t given up on me. Because you’re here, trusting me although everyone says I’m not to be trusted. Because you’re the prettiest girl in the world. And because…” He sighs. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

What way? I open my mouth to ask, but it has other ideas, so all that comes out after his confession is, “I brought you something.”

He dips his head until our lips almost touch. “What are you talking about?”

“Close your eyes.” I don’t expect him to, not really, but he does, and my heart breaks all over again at the sight of his hurts, and at way he places himself in my hands, no questions asked.

I fumble in my purse, unwrap the pendant, and pass it over his head to let it hang around his neck. The small stone lion gleams in the harsh fluorescent lights, resting against his dirty, blood-spattered white T-shirt.

“Okay,” I whisper. “You can look.”

He blinks, his hand grasping the pendant, lifting it. He swallows, the knot in his throat rising and falling. “Why?” he asks in his turn, his voice so low it’s barely audible.

“Because sometimes we need a talisman to help us believe in ourselves. You gave me yours,” I show him the leather bracelet. “I haven’t taken it off since you gave it to me. I feel you in it, always close to me. So I’m giving you mine, to protect you and tell you…” My mouth is bone dry. I have to lick my lips before I can speak. “That I’m in love with you.”

“God, Embers.” He pulls me back to him, crashes me to his chest, his heart booming against my ear. “Won’t you ask me? Ask the last question?”

Dammit, I have tears in my eyes, and I have no clue what he’s going on about. “What question?”

“I promised to answer three questions. Go on. Ask.”

“I don’t…” I sniffle in his T-shirt. “I don’t have any more questions.”

“Come on, Embers.”

I don’t reply. Can’t speak. I shake my head.

“I swear,” he whispers, his warm hand trailing up to my face, cradling my wet cheek. “I swear it.”

“Swear what?” I croak, my tears soaking his skin.

He tilts my head back and gives me his faint, bright smile that reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle.

“I love you,” he says. “So fucking much. More than I ever thought I could, or will again.”

Oh God, nothing can top what he just said. So I rise up on tiptoe, fuse my mouth to his and kiss him into silence.

***

We spent the night in my bed, tangled together. We kissed until we passed out last night, but nothing more happened, and I’m fine with that.

Not that I don’t burn for his touch, that I’m not fantasizing about him making love to me again. But he’s battered and exhausted, and the few things he managed to tell me when we came home late in the night were enough to freeze my blood in my veins and bring fresh tears to my eyes.

About everyone blaming him for what happened at the wedding. About the beating and how he tried to pull the thugs away from Seth but wasn’t sure he made it. About Mel who found what he needed. About loneliness and sadness and hopelessness.

But also about the bright spots. Zane and his Damage Control brothers. His roommates who turned out to be nice guys after all.

And me. Hearing him say this mends my heart in places I didn’t know it had cracked and fills it with stardust.

When morning comes, I carefully extricate myself from his arms, smiling when he frowns and cracks an eye open, looking for me. I kiss his scruffy cheek quickly and pad to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and splashing my face with cold water, I make my way to the kitchen to start breakfast. I figure we both need it after last night.

But there’s someone in the kitchen already.

Kayla is standing at the window, clad in boyish blue shorts and an oversized T-shirt that reads in big bold, red letters, “My blood type is coffee.” Her hair sticks in each and every direction, like the spines of a hedgehog.

She turns and toasts me with her mug. “Morning, girly.”

“Morning.” I grab a mug and fill it up, then slide into a chair, yawning so hard my jaw cracks. “What are you doing up so early?”

“The real question is what are you doing?” She sticks her tongue out at me. “Why aren’t you cuddling the hottie in your bed instead?”

I roll my eyes at her. “Kay… You been spying on us through the keyhole?”

“Nah, saw it in the cards this morning.” She winks at me as she sits down across from me. “What? It’s better than using bird entrails or something gross like that, right?”

I shake my head, at a loss for words. Besides, I need more coffee. Too early in the morning to discuss bird entrails.

“So… I’ll be off for a few days. Give you two lovebirds space to talk and screw like rabbits.” She frowns. “Can birds screw like rabbits?”

“God, Kay! Stop it.” I’m laughing, my face aflame. “Hey, you don’t have to do that, you know. Leave, I mean. Where would you go, anyway?”

“Well, my sister has been begging me forever to go visit, see my little niece and nephew. I’m catching a Greyhound in about an hour.” She rises. “In fact, I’d better hurry.”

Oh God… “You’re the sweetest,” I whisper and grab her in a quick hug. Never thought I’d love my weird roommate so much.

“No problem,” she replies, not meeting my eyes, smiling. “Just so you know: if Jesse Lee wants to move in with us, no problem here. As long as you don’t mind me ogling him once in a while… I promise I won’t touch.”

“Get outta here.” I swat at her ass, still laughing, and she sashays out of the kitchen.

I drink my coffee, get up to see what I can find in the fridge to whip up some breakfast before Jesse is up, and check my cell.

There’s a text from Ev. I read it once, twice, and I sit back down, stunned.

And pleased. Wow, how cool is that?

Jesse has lost so much. I wanted to return something to him, and it seems I might just be able to do so.

***

“Embers… What are you doing?”

I glance at Jesse over my shoulder. He’s been sprawled on the sofa, dozing and twitching in his sleep. The heavy painkillers the doc at the hospital prescribed are making him woozy, and he has sleepwalked his way through visits by his roommates, the Damage Boyz and the Inked Brotherhood, nodding and grunting like a zombie.

He barely seemed to understand what happened when Micah visited and apologized for being an ass. For not believing him. God, I hope Jesse will remember this afterward.

At least the swelling in his face is going down, and he can now see out of both eyes. Through which he’s currently staring at me, confusion written all over his handsome face.

“I’m just, um, cleaning.” I wave the dust cloth in the air by way of demonstration, trying not to cough at the dust cloud billowing from it.

“You’re dressed…” He sits up, wincing, his arm automatically wrapping around his bruised ribs. “Like you’re expecting someone. Is that why you’ve gone medieval on the apartment’s ass?”

“Are you implying I don’t normally clean?” If I wasn’t so stressed about this, I’d pretend to be upset.

“I don’t give a fuck about that, kitten, and you know it.” He gets up with a grunt, takes the dust cloth from my hand and lets it drop on the table. His hand drifts up to my face. “You—”

I’ll never know what he was about to say, because the doorbell rings and I jump away from him, running my hands over my white top and batik skirt. Am I dressed okay? Is it too hippy? Is it too old-fashioned?

God, I feel like I’m about to meet his parents and need their approval—which is probably as close as I’ll ever get to that.

“Who can that be?” Jesse mutters, his gaze flicking from me to the door, going narrow and suspicious.

“I’ll get it.” I hurry to open and then stand back, staring at the tiny blond woman standing right outside.

“Hi. You must be Amber?”

I nod as I take her in. Dark eyes and brows, cheeks like peaches, a boyish body. Hard to imagine this is the girl who once took care of my Jesse.

He’s suddenly there, by my side, his eyes big like saucers in his pale face. “Who is this?” he whispers, his voice hushed. “What in the fucking fuck?”

Somehow I think he already knows, but can’t accept it yet.

“Jesse?” She takes a step toward him, a tremor going through her small frame. “I thought it couldn’t be true. Oh my God, it is you, look at you. You’ve grown so much. They told me you ran away and nobody knew if you were alive or dead or… It’s me. It’s Helen, Jesse.”

A small, anguished sound leaves his throat. His body jerks forward, his hands lift…

Then he grabs Helen and wraps his arms around her. “You’re alive,” he whispers over and over, his chin resting on top of her head. “You’re okay. I thought I’d never see you again.”

Seeing them clinging to each other like that, I back away, feeling like an intruder on something very personal.

At the last moment, though, he reaches for me and snags my wrist, pulling me to him. Before I know it, I’m included in the hug, and the three of us stand together, three links in a chain of love that makes us whole.

***

That evening, after turning off the lights in the apartment, long after Helen has left, I find Jesse curled up on his side on the bed.

I hesitate at the door of my bedroom, wondering what he’s thinking. The reunion was joyful. Helen explained she’d been to visit her parents, found them in the middle of a huge fight during which windows were broken and bullets fired. The police came. Then social services swooped in and placed her with a new foster family.

A good family, who moved away from Minneapolis, where Jesse was at the time, to one of the smaller towns in the area. And no matter how hard she looked for him, she never found him again,

Because meanwhile he’d been also whisked away to a boy camp in the countryside, from which he escaped a few months later and hitched a ride to Madison.

It’s a heartbreaking story, and I’m glad they both had their happy ending.

Although right now I’m not certain what I should do. So I take a step back. Maybe he needs some space. It’s a lot to process, for sure.

“Embers.” His deep voice stops me as I turn to go, draws me back to him like a magic spell.

He sits up, giving me a crooked grin, and I go straight to him. Kicking off my sandals, I climb onto the bed and curl next to him.

He tucks a stray curl behind my ear and strokes my neck. Electric shocks travel down my spine, and the tips of my breasts tighten painfully.

Crap. He’s too bruised, physically and psychologically for this… surely? The gleam in his eyes is wicked, and so is the trail his hand is following, from my neck down to my breasts, leaving behind fire.

“JJ…” I gasp when he cups one breast, his thumb sliding teasingly over my aching nipple. “I thought…”

“I love you,” he whispers, lifting himself up on one elbow, his thumb moving in circles over the sensitive peak until I throb madly between my legs. “So much.”

“Love you, too, JJ,” I say and knot a hand behind his head, pulling him down for a kiss. “I’m yours.”

“Does this mean you’re my girl?” he whispers against my lips, then pulls back an inch, frowning. “Shit. Does it mean I have to meet your parents?”

“What’s your deal with parents?” I laugh quietly.

“I’m not the kind of man your parents will approve.”

God, he’s serious about this. “Of course they will approve. You’re the nicest boy I know. The kindest. And in any case, it’s my life, and I want you in it.”

“Embers…” His eyes go overly bright and he crushes his mouth to mine.

This time there’s nothing gentle about it. The kiss turns heated in seconds, lips and teeth clashing. He climbs on top of me, between my legs, and I gasp when his hard-on presses where I need him the most.

“Holy shit.” He breaks the kiss, panting hard, head bowed, and reaches down, inside his pants, to adjust himself.

Boy is that hot. Love the way strong muscles shift and slide in his upper arms and shoulders, how his T-shirt stretches across his chest.

So sexy.

He reaches for the straps of my top, gently slips them down my arms, the roughness of his palms sending shivers skittering across my skin. “I want to undress you and take my time with you.”

I can’t speak, because he’s pulling my soft top down, baring my bra, his mouth following, branding the mounds of my breasts.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispers reverently. “The most beautiful girl in the world.”

I moan his name when he mouths the tip of my breast through the thin lace, my hands scrabbling at his shoulders. He moves to the other breast, his clever fingers tugging my bra down until he has full access.

Slow. So slow, the way he teases me, licking and suckling and lightly scraping his teeth over the sensitive tips until I squirm, the pleasure reaching the point of pain.

He gives them one final lick that makes me cry out, then he pulls everything down and off me—my top, my skirt, my panties—leaving only my bra bunched under my breasts. He lets the clothes fall to the floor and gazes up at me, his eyes raking over my body, hungry and dark.

“Look at you,” he breathes. “So damn hot.”

He crawls back up, tearing his T-shirt off, and I lick my lips, staring at his strong chest, and those dazzling tattoos, the hoops in his tiny brows nipples, the taut abs that ripple as he moves. I reach for his pants and he lets me unzip them and tug them down.

That’s when I discover he’s going commando again. His cock rises, rock-hard and flushed, against that flat stomach. I wrap my hand around it, and he groans between his teeth.

“Dammit. If you move your hand one inch, I’m gonna lose it.” He draws away, and I reluctantly let him go. I wonder what he’s up to when he grabs my legs under the knees.

He places them over his shoulders and buries his face between my legs.

“Oh God.” Through the maddening explosion of pleasure that ricochets inside me, I think fuzzily that he’s getting really good at this. Crap, really, really good, especially when he uses his tongue like that… “JJ!”

He does something with his lips that has me arching off the bed, but right as the pressure inside me is about to snap, he draws back, leaving me aching and panting.

“I want you,” he whispers, “to come all over my cock. To feel you come as I touch your breasts. I’ve never done it that way. I wanna do it with you.”

Moaning, I let him roll me onto my stomach. I’ve never done it this way, either, and his words light up a fire in my belly. I love his hands on me, and the thought of him touching me while he fills me up is pushing me so close to the edge I’m afraid I’ll come before he even enters me.

“Trust me,” he whispers, and I do, with all my being. I trust him like I’ve never trusted anyone before in my life.

He lifts my hips until I’m on my knees, and he unclasps my bra, removing it, letting my breasts sway. I bite my lip to keep quiet at the stabs of pleasure that causes, and then again when he runs his fingers down my seam, parting me and stroking me.

Holy crap, I’m so close I can’t hold back a gasp.

He bends over me, his cock pressing into me—like a remembered dream his lips kiss my back and move up to my neck as he slides into me, taking my breath away.

We fit together like two pieces in a puzzle, my curves lining up with his hard planes and angles. I turn my head and he kisses my mouth, searing my lips with fire.

Then his hand finds my breasts and fondles them, teases the tips as he starts to move with slow, steady, deep thrusts. Christ, it feels so much more intense this way, his cock feels so much larger and harder, and…

His hips rock faster. His hand tugs on my nipple, twisting it slightly, and I cry out, my passage contracting so hard I see stars. Pleasure bursts into me, spike-sharp and huge, so huge I can’t do anything but take it, trapped underneath him, my breast in his hand, my core full of him.

Never experienced anything like this slow, unrelenting pleasure that goes on and on, stripping me of every defense, every thought, everything but him, the swell of his cock, the movement of his hand, the fire of his mouth.

The pleasure rolls over me, into me, again and again, and I’m moaning, no longer able to keep silent, losing all control.

I feel it when he follows. His thrusts lose rhythm, his hand falls from my breast to the bed and he grunts, rocking hard into me. He grows so big I gasp, and then he shouts my name as he comes, heat flooding me, overflowing, as he shudders and holds still.

With a groan, he grabs me around the waist and rolls us on our sides, my back pressed to his chest. Burying his face in my neck, he murmurs something I don’t catch.

I’m a bit distracted. He’s still inside me, half-hard and causing all sorts of pleasurable spasms in my core. His hand seeks my breast again and, impossibly, another, sweeter orgasm sweeps through me, leaving me in a puddle of pleasure on the bed.

He murmurs something again, and this time I turn my head, trying to see his face. “JJ?”

“I’ve got you, Embers.” He kisses my temple and his arms tighten around me. “I hope you never get tired of me, because I want you forever.”

THE END