Spider

“Yes.” I don’t know what else to say.

I’m overwhelmed by him. By his thoughtfulness.

He turns my chin toward him, and . . . we’re so close. I see that he’s put on pajama pants after all; they’re a blue and green plaid and hang loosely from his hips.

“Are you still scared?”

“No,” I whisper. I’m something else entirely.

He pulls something out from behind him, a small package wrapped in thick, expensive paper and tied with a burlap bow.

“What’s this?” My voice is soft and a bit breathless.

“A gift. I . . . I’ve had it for a while.”

“Why didn’t you send it to me?”

A long sigh comes from him and he swallows. “Rose . . . I couldn’t see you or have any contact with you . . . not until I was clean. That’s why I didn’t come to the back door the night of the concert.”

I process his words, feeling them out. “You’ve been clean for a while, right? If it was so important to you . . . why haven’t you seen me?”

He rubs a hand over his face. “I don’t know . . . being clean has been hard and I’m figuring it out as I go. I see a therapist and I draw to keep the demons away. Father and I . . . we talk more and try to see each other often. Just having his support . . . it means a lot to me.”

I nod.

He chews on his bottom lip. “There hasn’t been one day that goes by that I haven’t wondered how you are and what you’re doing.” He stops and inhales a deep breath. “I got clean for you. For us.”

“There is no us,” I remind him.

“Yet.”

His words send a wave of pure need through me, but I squash it down.

He hurt you, Rose, I remind myself.

I take the package from him and open it gently. My eyes water when I see what it is—a first edition copy of Jane Eyre—and I look up at him. “This must have cost you . . . thousands.”

I flip the book jacket over, tracing my fingers over the carefully preserved title page.

He shrugs, his face soft.

I stare down at the brown cover, my hands clutching it like a lifeline. I never want to let it go. He kisses me gently on the cheek and suddenly I can’t breathe, my whole body warm and tingling.

He fingers a lock of my hair. “I finished it, you know, a long time ago.”

“What did you think?” I ask.

“At the core, it’s a story about destiny, Jane’s destiny, and how it’s intertwined with Rochester’s. Fate’s a wonderful thing, right?” A small laugh escapes him, and I wonder if he’s thinking what I am . . . that fate brought us together that day at the Quickie Mart and then later on the airplane.

He continues. “Jane’s a fucking boss, like you, even though people want to bring her down. She just wants . . . I don’t know, freedom to be her own person and make her own decisions.”

“Yes.”

He clears his throat, his lips closer to mine than before, the change in our position almost imperceptible. “She turns down Rochester’s offer of being his mistress because she wants to be true to herself.”

“What about Rivers?” I ask, inquiring about Jane’s other love interest. “What do you think of him?”

He laughs softly. “He’s a religious wanker.”

I’m so entirely fascinated by his words . . . the fact that he read it because of me.

“How do you know she doesn’t love the wanker?” I say, my eyes boring into his.

“Because she can’t forget Rochester. She’ll never be over him, and when she hears his voice calling for her, she goes . . .” His voice stops, his face flushing as he cups my cheek.

His mouth halts a few inches from mine, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

If I don’t touch him . . .

God, if I don’t touch him . . . I’m going to die right here.

“Rose, I really want to kiss you right now.”

“God, yes,” I say breathlessly.

Spider

I KISS HER SOFTLY, AS if we’re on a first date, tasting her with reverence, my lips claiming hers so excruciatingly slow, as if saying, You can pull away at any time.

I don’t want to scare her.

My emotions are incredibly fierce at this moment, hot with need, and I have to hold myself back from crushing her in my arms.

I breathe her in, my hand encircling her neck and tugging her closer, until all I can think, smell, want is her.

“Spider,” she whispers between small kisses down my neck, her teeth scraping across my collarbone, making me hiss, my cock already hard as steel.

I groan, my hand slipping under her shirt and palming her breast, my fingers tweaking her nipple.

“We shouldn’t,” she says as I raise her shirt up to her shoulders.

I tilt her chin up and stare into her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with the way I feel about you and how I think you feel about me, but this is your decision. I want you. I want you so much that I can’t breathe.”

She closes her eyes, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks.

“Look at me.”

Her eyes open.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” My thumb runs across her lower lip. “You say the word and I’ll never kiss these lips again. We can go on pretending and tiptoeing around each other when we both fucking know that this heat between us is something we can’t ignore forever. Fate has other plans. She wants this. Do you want it?”

A slow blush starts up her neck. “Yes.”

My hand winds in her hair and I tug her face back to mine. “Then let me show you how much I want you.”

I kiss her again, harder this time, my teeth and tongue owning hers.

She pants, one hand threading through my hair to grasp my skull, tugging on me while her other pulls at my pajama bottoms, slipping inside and underneath my silk boxers to grasp my cock.

I ease away from her with a small laugh and lay her back against the pillows, my eyes devouring her. “You’re gonna make me blow too soon, love.”

“That’s okay. We can always go again.” She shimmies out of her shirt and kicks her panties off, making me groan.

She’s in a hurry, and I suspect it’s because, like me, she’s in the moment and afraid of this thing between us disappearing.

Tall and toned with perfectly sized breasts that make my mouth water, she’s the epitome of the female form in my eyes. She always has been.

I shove down my pants and boxers and kick them out of the way.

Her eyes go right to the rod that’s straight up.

“I know, it’s formidable.”

She giggles.

“What’s so funny?” I say, looking down at it.

“Nothing. It’s just . . . I’ve waited so long, and I’m nervous . . .” Her voice trails off.

I reach down and palm her head, kissing her. “Me too. I feel like a teenager with you.”

She leans over and takes me into her mouth, her hand pumping my shaft as she explores me with long licks, pushing down with her lips until I feel the tightness of her throat.

I toss my head back, not prepared as she works me over, sending my heart into overtime as she sucks me off. “Fuck . . . Rose.”

She moans, humming against me, and I let her suck me down a few more times before I pull away.

I want to taste her . . . be inside her.

I ease her back to the quilt and kiss her again. She cranes upward, wanting more as I move down her body, not stopping until she’s spread out in front of me. My lips explore her, the bend in her knee, the curve of her hips, the slope of her neck. Part of me wants to take her hard because it feels like I’ve waited forever, but the other side of me wants to be gentle. I don’t know which one is going to win.