“I don’t want you to be with anyone else.”
She didn’t answer.
“I don’t do relationships, Jess. I never have. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s all I have. I don’t know how to handle loving someone, because I’ve never loved anyone before.” He paused, turned to face her. “But I do love you. Remember when I told you that nothing scares me?”
She nodded.
“I lied. The possibility of hurting you someday scares the hell out of me.”
“You won’t hurt me. Not the way you think. The only way you hurt me is not giving us a chance.”
He nodded. “I realize that now. Losing you scares me even more. I love you, Jessie.”
Her eyes closed, drifted opened again. He saw tears glistening there. God, he’d made such a mess of this.
“So I’m going to screw up,” he continued. “I’ll probably screw up bad. I didn’t want to fall in love with you. I didn’t want to fall in love with anyone.”
“Are you sorry you did?”
She had turned away to look out the window, not even facing him. Her voice sounded so small, like it hurt even to say that.
“No. I can’t be sorry for loving you. You’ve changed me. You’ve made me think about who I am, about the man I want to be, about a lot of things I never would have thought about if I hadn’t fallen in love with you. I’d never want to take that back.”
She shifted to face him. God, she was so beautiful, her face shaped like a heart, her lips moist and full and so damn kissable it made his stomach hurt. And her eyes—so full of expression, so full of emotion she never could hide from him.
“I’m messed up, Jess.”
“I don’t expect you to be perfect.”
“It’s more than that. I have a problem. I’ve already talked to Grange about it.”
She shifted, half turning in the seat to face him. “Do you think I don’t know that you have issues with anger? Of course I realize you have a problem. But your problem doesn’t extend to me.”
He tilted his head, frowned. “What do you mean?”
“How many times have I pissed you off?”
His lips curled. “Plenty.”
“Have you ever come after me when you were angry? Have you ever raised your hand to me?”
He tilted back, the very thought of physically hurting her making him sick to his stomach. “Hell no.”
“Exactly. And you wouldn’t. It isn’t in you to hurt me. It isn’t in you to hurt anyone you care about, Diaz. You aren’t like your father, and it’s time to stop carrying that burden—his burden. It’s not your cross to bear. He did what he did, but it’s not who you are.”
He wanted to deny what she said. He’d spent his whole life thinking he was just like his old man. Hell, his father had told him often enough that he was just like him.
But Jessie was right. He wasn’t like his dad. He’d never hurt Jessie, or any woman, or anyone he cared about.
“You’re right. But I still blow up too easy, I still have trouble controlling my anger. It’s affecting my work.”
“Are you going to do something about it?”
“Yeah. Grange said I can take some counseling. He didn’t seem too worried about it.”
“Good.”
“Do you—would you like to go with me?”
Her eyes widened. “You’d want me to?”
“Yeah. I would. It would help if you were there. I’m not really good at saying how I feel. Maybe you can help me with that part.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I’d love to go with you.”
This was weird. Sitting here with Jessie, making plans like they were a couple. Though he guessed they were now. Something else he didn’t exactly know how to handle. He supposed he was going to have to figure it out.
“You look lost.”
He glanced at her. “Yeah. I kind of am. I told you I don’t do relationships. Where do we go from here?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s not like I’m an expert at this.”
“Great. The blind leading the blind.”
“You could make a great start by kissing me,” she said.
“Yeah I could do that, couldn’t I?” he replied with a grin.
But when he leaned over, he realized that the damn Camaro had bucket seats, and a console with a stick shift between them. Still, he managed to brush his lips across hers. As soon as he touched his tongue to hers, the flavor of her burst into his mouth, making his mouth water. She tasted warm and spicy, like cinnamon, like everything that he’d ever wanted. He leaned farther, cupping the back of her neck to draw her deeper into the kiss, eliciting a moan in response. She drew closer to him, her hands grasping his jacket and holding on tight. He felt her tension, her need, wanted to draw her onto his lap so he could feel her whole body against him while he kissed her. He wanted more, a lot more than he was going to get in this car.
“Let’s go home,” he whispered against her mouth. “Where I can get closer to you.” Where he could undress her, take his time to really show her how he felt.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to go there. Too crowded. Too many people interrupting us. This is fine.” She reached behind her and shifted her seat forward, then climbed into the backseat. “Come on back here with me.”
The Camaro wasn’t the most spacious car, and he wasn’t exactly a small guy, but she was right. Wild Riders’ headquarters wasn’t the best place to be alone. Here wasn’t exactly convenient, but they had as much privacy as they were going to get.
Jessie was already peeling off her jacket, revealing that sexy corset she’d teased him with earlier. Her breasts spilled over the top, making his mouth water for a taste of her buttery soft flesh. She positioned herself on the seat and spread her legs, palming her pussy.
“When you dressed in that outfit earlier, I wanted to put you over my knee and spank you for even thinking of going out in it.”
She arched a brow. “We’ll have to explore the spanking thing later. Right now I need you, Diaz. Get back here.”
With a groan that was either frustration or need, he forced his big body into the backseat with her. Cramped, uncomfortable as hell, he wasn’t sure he cared, though, because he was closer to her now. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her on top of him.
“You smell good,” he said as she leaned against his chest.
“You have too many clothes on.” She pushed at his shoulders, helping him discard his jacket, and flung it into the front seat. Then she buried her face in his neck, licking across his throat. “I’ve missed you,” she murmured against his skin. “I’ve missed the way you smell and the way you taste. I especially miss the way you feel. So hard against me.” She surged against him and he damn near lost it.
“You keep doing that and I can’t guarantee much restraint.” His cock was already hard, aching and straining against his jeans. He rocked against her leather pants, holding on to her hips to position her sex against his hard-on.
“I don’t need or want you restrained around me,” she said, lifting up to rest her hands on his shoulders. She slid forward, deliberately teasing him by rocking against his dick. “I want you wild and out of control, especially with sex.”
He inhaled, breathing in her aroused scent. He pulled her forward and reached for the zipper of her corset. Jessie kept her gaze locked with his as he drew the zipper down, pulled the corset away, freeing her breasts. He tossed the corset on top of his jacket and filled his hands with her soft globes. They were warm, her nipples puckering as soon as he brushed his palms over the tiny pink buds. Jessie arched against his hands, a silent signal for more.
“I have calluses on my palms,” he said, but he didn’t stop rubbing her breasts.
“I know. It makes my nipples tingle. Do it some more.”
He did, sliding his palms over each nipple until her breath caught and she gasped, her legs trembling beneath him. He liked her reaction, wanted more, so he moved his hands to her back to bring her breasts to his lips. He nuzzled between them, loving the softness of her skin against the harsh roughness of his. She laughed, the sound magnified against his ears. He licked the valley between her breasts. Even there she tasted like the sweetest honey, and he didn’t think it was her soap. It was simply Jessie. He moved his head, took one nipple in his mouth and sucked, flicking the tight bud with his tongue.
Jessie moaned, grasped his head to hold him in place as he licked and nibbled the taut bud. “I can feel that in my pussy.”
That’s what he liked to hear. Jess was an incredibly sexual woman. Life with her was going to be phenomenal. He couldn’t believe he’d almost let her go. He was so damn lucky that he’d been given a second chance to build a life with this amazing woman.
When she slid over his dick again, he growled, pushed her off his lap and onto her back on the seat, unzipped her pants and pulled them down, needing to have her naked and on top of him. While she wrestled with kicking the leather off, he jerked down the zipper of his jeans and grabbed a condom from a pocket, ready for her. Waiting for her.
JESSIE COULDN’T GET HER PANTS OFF FAST ENOUGH. SHE WAS wet, her nipples tight, on fire from Diaz’s mouth. As she straddled him, her legs trembled. She was such a mess. She’d never felt such a sense of urgency, her entire body zoned in on Diaz, her pussy quivering with the need to feel his cock inside her.
Diaz held on to her waist and eased her onto his shaft. She slid down, engulfing him, feeling him expand inside her. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation as his cock dragged over her sensitive tissues until she was seated on his thighs. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her with such an intense look it made her belly quiver. His lids were half closed, his head tilted to the side. With his dark good looks half shadowed, he looked like the devil himself, and he couldn’t be any sexier than at that moment. He spread the fingers of both hands over her hips and brought her forward, dragging her clit across his pelvis. She sucked in a breath and held it at the rippling sensation, like being pulled across warm sand.
Then he pushed her back, at the same time lifting his hips to thrust inside her, and pull her forward again. She laid her palms across his chest, dug her nails into his skin, lost in the sensations, lost in him.
Being part of Diaz had always taken some of her sanity. She was so attuned to her body when he was inside her. It was much more than just physical contact—he read her body’s reactions and adjusted his movements to give her the highest pleasure. Only a man who cared deeply would do that for his woman.
His woman. She was his woman now. She cupped his face with her palm, tingling at his coarse stubble.
“I love feeling you inside me. The way your cock swells, gets bigger the more you thrust.”
“You’re going to make it swell more if you keep talking like that.”
She grinned, leaned forward to capture his mouth. God she loved his mouth, the way he kissed her. He palmed the back of her neck, held her there while he ravaged her lips with his, using his tongue to dive inside and tangle with hers, leaving her breathless. His kiss spoke of sex, of love, of the deepest emotion and things he couldn’t yet say. But she knew the emotions he couldn’t voice, and it made her tighten inside—all this joy, this revelation, having this man and knowing he was hers.
She pulled away, grasped his arms, and rode him, letting him grab her butt to lift her up and down. She gasped as she drew closer, watched his face, the way his frown tightened as he concentrated, his jaw clenched, the sweat beading on his forehead—it all ratcheted up her own pleasure.
She whimpered, felt herself unraveling. “I’m close. I need to come.”
He nodded, his fingers digging into the flesh of her buttocks. His thrusts became harder now, deeper, and she held tight to his forearms. She waited for him to slam into her, to catapult her over the edge.