Craving Page 48

She chewed on her beautiful full lower lip, her hair as sexy as could be even though it was wrapped up into a bun on top of her head. She wore black stretch pants and a white V-neck pullover shirt. Her cleavage was evident.

What if I could never love her? Someone else could, and she would leave me.

Suddenly my skin tightened, and my breathing quickened. No. She couldn’t leave me. I gulped down the rest of my wine and grabbed her arm.

“What?” she said, her eyebrows arched.

“I want you. Now.”

“We’re in a public place.”

“I don’t care.” And I didn’t. I was ready to rip our clothes off and take her up against the oak tree, forcefully, marking her, making her mine and only mine.

I moved the plate from her lap and stood, pulling her with me. I clamped my lips down on hers and kissed her ferociously. My cock strained against my jeans, and I ground into her.

She ripped her mouth away. “Talon, stop,”

But I couldn’t stop. I was going to have her and have her now.

I cupped her breast and squeezed it, finding her nipple through the flimsy fabric of her bra and pinching it.

She gasped. “Talon, please!”

I didn’t care who saw us. I didn’t care who was witness to my taking. I was going to have her. My body cried out for hers.

“Get hold of yourself,” she insisted.

I pinched her nipple again, and again she gasped.

And she pulled away from me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she said through clenched teeth. “You need to stop this. Now. What we do in the privacy of the bedroom is one thing, but you absolutely cannot do this to me in public in broad daylight. I don’t care what has gone on between us before. I won’t stand for this.”

Her skin was bright pink with her anger. Her nostrils flared, and her silvery eyes bored into mine, her lips red and puffy from our raging kisses. I only wanted her more.

I grabbed her to me again and took her lips, gliding my tongue into her mouth.

Instead of squeezing her nipple, I slid my hand down and cupped her mound through her stretch pants.

She pushed me away again. “Goddamnit. Didn’t you hear me?” She raised her hand and slapped me across the cheek.

I didn’t even feel the sting. She fidgeted with her pants and shirt. I reached for her again, but she stumbled backward, nearly losing her footing.

“I’m going home,” she said. “Don’t bother coming anywhere near me tonight.” She picked up her briefcase and stomped off.

My whole body was on fire. Her ass swayed slightly as she walked. I itched to run after her, but…damn! I was nursing a raging hard-on. I’d barely be able to walk, let alone run. I could drive into Grand Junction and call any of about a dozen women who would be happy to have me warming their bed. But that wouldn’t work. I had tried it before. My body cried out for Jade and only Jade.

I needed a fucking drink.

When I had cooled down a bit, I walked away, leaving the picnic basket and cloth sitting on the lawn. After a couple of blocks, I entered Murphy’s bar.

“Hey, Steel,” Sean Murphy, the owner said. “Long time no see. What can I get you?”

I took a seat at the bar. “Peach Street, neat.”

“You boys do have taste,” Sean said. He poured my drink and set it in front of me. Then he went about his business.

I liked Sean. He wasn’t the kind of bartender who tried to get a guy talking. He poured a drink and then made himself scarce.

I wanted to be alone. I took a sip of the smooth whiskey, letting it float over my tongue for a moment before I swallowed, its spicy warmth coating my throat. What the hell? I finished the rest like a shot and set my glass back on the bar. “Another, Sean.”

“You got it.” Sean took my glass and filled it again. “How’s everything at the ranch?”

“The same.”

“Jonah was in here the other night. We chatted a little bit.”

I nodded. Sean set down my glass with a smile and then turned to another patron.

I downed the second and ordered another. Luckily, I hadn’t drunk much wine with dinner. My mind churned. What was I going to do about Jade? This incessant need was eating me alive, destroying me, consuming me. She was like a drug I couldn’t live without. Was it time to go cold turkey? If she were truly like a drug, would I suffer withdrawal symptoms?

I let out a chuckle. Of course I would. I suffered withdrawal every time I was away from her. I would have her, and then within seconds of completing, I would crave her again. What could I do? Maybe I should leave. I shouldn’t have let Joe and Ryan talk me into staying.

I couldn’t have a life with Jade. I didn’t even want a life with Jade. Did I? This desire, this all-consuming passion…was it indicative of something else? Did I want more than just sex? Was I feeling something I had never felt before?

I finished the third drink and plunked the glass back on the counter. No. I wasn’t feeling anything like that. I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything like that. It would only lead to more heartbreak. Jade deserved better than to be saddled with my baggage.

She deserved the best.

I stood, a little buzzed but not drunk. Good thing, because I had to drive home. I would go home, I would find Jade, and I would apologize.

And then I would tell her that whatever this thing between us was, it was over.

I just hoped the withdrawal wouldn’t be too painful.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jade

I was in the shower when he came barreling in without even knocking. I screeched, grabbing the shower door and nearly falling. He caught me, his hands steady, though the aroma of alcohol hung on his breath. He handed me a towel.

“Dry off. We need to talk.” He left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Damn right we needed to talk. He owed me a big apology. And if he thought I was going to fall right into bed with him…

Fuck. Who the hell was I trying to kid? Of course I would fall right into bed with him. I had been wet since we sat down at that sweet little picnic. I dried off quickly, squeezed the moisture out of my hair, slipped into a short satin robe, and left the bathroom.

He was sitting on my bed, looking sexy as hell. His hair was a mess, but then it was always a little tousled. His dark eyes were burning, singeing me. They could melt right through my robe.