The Heart - Kate Stewart Page 0,71

and her tightness clenched around me.

“Here,” I whispered as I placed a kiss on her forehead. “Here,” I said in the same tone as I kissed her chest where her heart lay. “Here,” I said as I pulled back and thrust hard, watching her fall apart beneath me. “Lots of this, that’s what’s next,” I promised through clenched teeth as I began to frantically move. I wanted to believe it was the truth. That there would be more nights like last night and even more of these mornings. She fascinated me and would take a piece of me with her when she left, a piece I had given to her after I had realized I was in a free fall.

It felt like a risk, but a risk worth taking.

I paused above her, positive I’d aimed for something else entirely when I’d pushed inside of her this morning, and it had turned into something else altogether.

“Jack, let go,” she urged as I spent myself inside her. And just as her words registered, my decision was made.

I didn’t want to let her go. I didn’t want her out of my bed or out of my sight. But I learned a long time ago that it wasn’t up to me. You can make a woman smile, crave, and come, but you could never make a woman feel.

And that was the most fascinating thing of all.

Jack: Good morning, beautiful.

Rose: Morning, handsome. Rap & R&B 101 Love it or Hate It, 50 Cent

Jack: Go save someone.

Rose: Go build something.

He sent a picture of a building he had co-designed, and I gasped at the progress they’d made. He was in Lubbock for a few days overseeing the groundbreaking of the project so he could spend some off time with me. He was running out of projects to help the center and decided to split his time so his reason for staying wasn’t obvious. I appreciated it more than he knew. I wasn’t ready to share yet, but it had been a week since I’d seen him and I hated it. His absence tugged at me, it gnawed. I savored every minute with him. Jack had completely taken me by surprise. Though southern gentlemen to the core and more than proud to be from his fair city of New Orleans, he was so much more than I’d originally given him credit for. Southern bred but worldly at the same time. I couldn’t wrap my head around some of the things he’d seen and done. I was small town Texas, and he was... everywhere. Each day we spent together, we gave a little more of ourselves, our minds, our bodies. It felt surreal.

His presence excited me, his depth moved me, and his touch sated me.

Jack reminded me that life lay beyond my demanding career, a career I’d chosen and still loved. But my walks on the grounds became a lot less lonely with thoughts of my time with him to keep me company. My need for him grew each day. When he was in Texas, I spent all my nights with him at his hotel, or at the center, both of us still intent on keeping our stolen moments private, though more for me than Jack.

He refused to let our relationship be limited. Often times he would force my hand on days I wanted to relax and take me out on spontaneous trips he would plan. We’d been tubing down the Guadalupe River, attended the Blue Bonnet Festival—taking Grant and Annabel—and had even gone to Billy Bob’s so he could properly train me as his dance partner.

That night...that night had been both the best and the worst.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered in the cabin of my car as he kept his hand on my thigh. I looked over at him, pleased that he noticed the extra effort that I’d put in. My normally corrupt hair was tamed straight, and I’d bought new black jeans and boots that fit like second skin. My dark blue tube top was tight and showed what little cleavage I had, and came just short of showing an inch of my midriff.

“So do you,” I said, moving my hand over his. I compared the size of the two and saw his was impossibly large next to mine.

“But they fit perfectly,” he said as he noticed my comparison and laced them together.

“They do,” I said as I looked over his dark eyes, his lashes, nose, and lips.

“Think you can handle a night of country music?”