As he strolled out of the hotel, Jake let his thoughts drift, the feel of Kathryn’s skin still fresh in his mind.
Not to mention the sting. And the rush.
Deep down, he knew. Returning to the cage he’d just burst free from was impossible. She was his muse, and he’d be her maker. It was more than a feeling—this was an undeniable connection drawing him back to the land of the living.
She’d been with who knew how many men—well, not that many—but none could give her what she needed. As if her body existed only for him, in every way his touch demanded.
Far from cold, or timid, or even shy, she’d had a white-hot flame within her, raw and ready to be unleashed.
Or leashed. Whichever.
He thought about it.
A leash? Handcuffs? What would she like?
His pulse spiked. He had to know Kathryn’s wants. Her needs. She’d be too easy to spoil. With a woman like her, he needed to pace himself. She had enough experience to know what she didn’t like, but was practically a virgin in every way that counted.
Still, he’d been away from this life for so long. He wasn’t about to take things too quickly. Her body was begging to be his new journey . . . a feast of slow, salacious satisfaction.
As if in a trance, he returned to his truck. He’d never recall how. Yet he could easily rattle off every dirty little item he’d scrolled through on his cell as his ass stayed planted in the driver’s seat in the parking lot.
With Kathryn still in the hotel, he wasn’t going anywhere.
Perusing the spicier sex paraphernalia passed the time while he waited. He had to. There was no way in hell he’d leave without knowing she was safely on her way.
She’d clung to him until their last tender kiss. Tearing away from her lips was its own sadistic form of torture, because he sure as hell didn’t want to.
I had to. She named her hard limit.
I’m not breaking her trust. No sex.
He thought it over.
Seriously, no sex? What the hell was she thinking?
Frustrated, he sat. His cell phone perusals were building the tension in his pants. The more he clicked and shipped this toy and that to fill his empty treasure trove, the more he was tempted to take his aching matters into his own hands.
But he couldn’t. He needed to focus enough to look up every minute or so to make sure he didn’t miss seeing her leave.
If he knew Paco, and he’d like to think over the past few years they’d gotten as close as people in covert circles tended to get, he could gauge Kathryn’s frame of mind by Paco’s overprotective parenting.
If Paco was worried, he’d drive her home.
Less worried, and he’d walk her to the car.
Not worried at all and at her insistence, he’d let her walk out by herself.
A moment later, out she came. On her own.
Jake smiled as she strolled to her car, looking as fresh and sweet as he’d left her. Between the imaginative array of kinky candy filling his online cart, and watching her soft curves, pale flesh, and perfect strawberry-blonde hair spilling down her back, his bulge demanded some air.
He undid his jeans.
He couldn’t wait to see her again.
If she calls.
Of course she will.
The wad of cash she’d tried to pass him said that much.
It was ridiculous. And adorable.
He chuckled at the sight of a fellow guardian keeping a watchful eye out. Paco inconspicuously spied on her from a nearby window. A text popped up on his phone.
PACO: I see you too.
JAKE: You know me. Trust-but-verify kind of guy. Just making sure she’s good to go.
Do I ask or not?
The suspense is killing me.
What did she say?
He waited for the bouncing bubbles to finish on the text.
PACO: She showed me your note.
Between his below-the-waist discomfort and Paco’s cool coyness, Jake finally texted his aggravated need-to-know in one word.
JAKE: And???
He looked back up, and Paco was gone.
Son of a bitch. That’s my move.
JAKE: Fine. I’m both glad and perturbed at your ability to be a vault. So, fuck you. Thank you. And safe flight.
Three emojis were texted back . . .
A martini glass.
A plane departing.
And the little round winking guy blowing a kiss.