Jersey Six - Jewel E Ann Page 0,111
name against his ear when he pushed into her.
They paused like a statue. Time stood still, like nothing would ever matter as much as that moment.
“Jersey?” Ian rested his forehead against her shoulder, his warm breath brushing along her chest.
“Yes?” Her breaths chased each other as she held tight to the moment, never wanting anything more than to feel so completely filled by him. Ian chased away the bad and filled it with good. He slayed demons, built dreams, and gave kidneys.
He was everything. He had always been everything.
“I love you,” he whispered. “All of you. So every part of you is as sacred to me as your lips. Do you get that?”
She closed her eyes as he brought her a tiny bit closer, filling her a tiny bit more. Then she remembered what Natasha said about sex being sacred. “I … I think so.”
“We’re going to go inside … so I can kiss all of you. Then I need you to promise to never let anyone touch you where my lips have been.” He held her to him, toeing off his shoes, taking slow steps toward a door she couldn’t see, kicking his feet out of his shorts and briefs.
Dim light brought new life to the moment as he opened the door and carried her through the shadows to the bedroom. He shut the door and pressed her back to it, thrusting into her over and over while their mouths moved together. They went from the door to the dresser, the dresser to the bed, the bed to the shower.
Every time his lips explored a new area of her body, he made her promise. And she did, writhing beneath his touch, drowning in his words—his commitment to give every breath to her—Jersey promised herself, her whole being, to Ian Cooper.
Her Guardian.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“I called you for closure.” Jersey wrapped a blanket around herself as she approached Ian sitting in a chair on the deck shrouded by trees.
The sun started to peek over the horizon. After waking to an empty space next to her in bed, she needed to make sure they were still them.
Wearing jogging pants, a white tee, and sipping a cup of coffee, he glanced over his shoulder and smiled that perfectly lopsided grin. “This is closure.”
She leaned over his shoulder and snapped a quick selfie with him.
“Ah hem …” He lifted a curious brow at her.
“I have to prove something.” She sent the picture to Natasha while sitting in the chair next to him. He smirked, handing her his cup of coffee. Jersey blew at the steam and took a sip. “It is?” She handed the coffee back to him. “Is it closure?”
“Closure is not a good word.” His mouth twisted as he watched the birds flutter and jump from one branch to the next. “As much as I’ve tried to bury my past, lock that door, pretend that it never happened, I can’t. You’re my past. And for you to be my future, I need to let our lives be whole. Acknowledge the pain, accept what happened, and show gratitude that we are in fact survivors. I don’t know … maybe my story could help people.”
“You set a man on fire.”
“Okay, maybe not all of my story will be helpful.” He cringed. “I had issues, even with the Russells. They loved me. They fostered my love for basketball. But Fisher changed me. The day you watched me beat him with a baseball bat, the day you dropped that bunny, the day I told you to be brave and run fast … it changed me at an elemental level. I struggled with self-identity. Forgiveness. I just wanted to be someone else.
“Music let me be someone else. It’s hard to explain, but sometimes a talent can feel like its own person, its own thing or existence. I suppose you could call it an alter ego on the stage, like Ian Cooper was the talented part of Christian Guardian Faulkner. It was fun to let Ian out on the stage, so much fun that I never wanted to go back to being that other guy. So … I didn’t. But I also didn’t go back to anything or anyone else. I didn’t visit the Russells, or friends, or anything associated with that life. I just didn’t think I could hold on to any pieces. And when I heard about their deaths, I regretted it. When I saw you in Newark … I regretted it. Had I kept in touch