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Chapter Six

He should have stayed the fuck away from her, just as he had intended. He shouldn’t have gone into her room and he sure as hell shouldn’t have touched her. But he had. Helpless against the need to taste her, to touch her. She was like a narcotic to his senses, wrapping around him, a siren’s call of lust and heat that he was helpless to deny. He craved her.

Jared couldn’t remember a time in his life when need had struck him so hard, so imperatively. No other woman had ever affected him this way; no other had ever tested the control he had fought to preserve over the years.

A good woman is worth any sacrifice, son. The memory of his father’s words washed over him as he stared into the darkened forest from the back porch. She’ll soothe your soul even as she makes you burn inside and out. That kind of woman is worth dying for, but even more, she’s worth living for.

He knew his parents hadn’t had an easy time of it together. Their relationship had been hampered by her parents, and by Victor Raddington’s extreme sexuality.

Jared still remembered coming home that first time when the knowledge hit him. He had been in college, nearly a grown man and had returned home unexpectedly. He had walked in on something that even now, simply because it was his parents, he wished he never had walked in on.

He hunched his shoulders against the uncomfortable memory. But the thought of it was enough that it brought Kimberly to mind. How erotic it would be, holding her, watching as another man touched her, fulfilling all her most sensual fantasies.

She was a highly sexual creature. He had seen that at The Club, and the information he had learned later had only reinforced that impression.

Her requests when it came to sexual conduct with the club members were simple. She didn’t want foreplay, she didn’t want to be kissed or held; she had only wanted to be fucked. And she had enforced those demands herself. Because they made her weak. They made her want. And Jared knew he made her want those things she could never have more than others.

And now she was here. A part of his home, of his life. He had no choice but to stay close to her, to protect her, and to shield her from the plant Madison had placed within his home to watch Kimberly and to report any sexual misconduct.

He shifted uncomfortably as he leaned against the wide post, wishing he could ease the pressure in his jeans just a bit. His erection was killing him. Walking away from Kimberly was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life, but God help him, he was dying for her.

“You can have me…like Sax…” The words whispered through his mind as his eyes closed in tormented desire.

Like Sax. He could have her anally.

Fury pulsed inside him as he clenched his teeth against the need to have all of her. He wanted everything, and the fact that he couldn’t fight the shield placed between them enraged him.

He could fight another man, or any danger that raised its head to threaten her. He could seduce her, if it was only her stubbornness, out-argue her if it was her anger holding them apart. But it was something out of their control. Something that would destroy her if he forced her to choose.

So he had to choose. Because he couldn’t bear the pain he saw in her eyes, and the need he felt shuddering through her body. He couldn’t still the need to hold her, to show her, if only with his touch, the love he had for her. A love he knew would destroy him eventually, because he couldn’t fully have her. Not now. Not ever.

“You’re not here to advise me on this one, Dad,” he whispered as he stared into the mountains his father so loved.

He missed the man whose advice he had so come to rely on throughout his adult years. His death, five years before, had left a hollow spot in his soul that echoed with regret in times like this.

His father had raised him with solid values, with a sense of family and honor, one he refused to break now. Fact was fact. He couldn’t fully possess the woman he loved with every beat of his heart, but he could give her a time without pressure, without demands. A time to hold to their hearts in the long, lonely years that would come.

He lowered his head, his hands gripping his forearms as he crossed them over his chest and nudged at the side of the support post with the toe of his boot. There was nothing else he could do.

“You know, it’s not real bright to stand in full view like that when you could possibly have a terrorist or other unknown assailant waiting to pop your ass.”

He grinned as Kimberly spoke from the back door, her voice irritated and still shadowed with arousal. He wondered if she knew how that husky little sound made him crazy to fuck her.

He turned, glancing back as she stepped outside, watching him warily.

“Sorry, some days my control is not what I would want it to be,” he grunted with an edge of self-mockery. “So much for my Trojan status, huh?”

“The Trojans.” She shook her head at the title that had been given to the eight men that Stanton’s wife had identified as being part of the exclusive men’s club. “I imagine you’re more like them than either of us wants to admit to right now. But it doesn’t change the fact that you aren’t indestructible. You shouldn’t be out in the open like this.”

“My neck’s not itching. I’m not worried,” he told her, wondering at the pleasure that just the sight of her brought him.

He wanted to see her clothed in nothing but moonlight, reaching for him, her body shimmering with moisture, her eyes glazed with need. His hunger for just that rocked him to the very core of his being.

“Oh Lord, another man whose neck itches,” she grumped. “I’ll tell you the same thing I tell my boss—they make salves for that sort of thing.”

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips. She was daring and sharp as hell. He loved that about her. He had missed her blistering little retorts, her teasing laughter. He hadn’t realized how much until now.

She moved closer to him, the scent of her, clean and fresh, with just a hint of peaches enveloped him, making him hunger to taste her again. He wanted to spread her legs wide and lick up all the sweet cream her body had to give. To gorge himself on her passion, her cries and her sweet release.

“Come here.” He pulled her into his arms, ignoring her slight, indrawn breath at the intimacy of the act.

It was one of her taboos, he knew. No cuddling, no foreplay. Those rules he could and would break.

He was surprised though, when after a second’s stiffness, she relaxed against him, her hands settling cautiously at his waist as he rested his cheek against the top of her head. His hands smoothed down her back, fingers working at the muscles there, a smile tipping his lips as they slowly eased.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “I don’t want to make this harder for either of us than it already is.”

He smiled against her hair. If he got any harder he would burst right out of his jeans.

“Just let me hold you,” he finally whispered deeply, responding to the need to feel her against him, the ache to shelter her like a knife through his soul. “Just for a minute, Kimber. Let me hold you.”

The night wrapped around them, quiet, soothing. The sound of the frogs in the pasture pond, the hoot of a faraway owl, a whippoorwill in a tree in the backyard. The night enveloped them, hid their fears, their hungers, and for those few precious minutes, brought a measure of peace to them both.

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