Page 58 of Triggered By Love
“No, no, no.” His stomach clenched at the thought she weighed herself against Brando and found herself worthless. “It’s not for you to decide who is worth more.”
“Truth.” She let that sink in, burying her face into the back of his neck. Her warm breath fanned over him, comforting and soothing, and her body pressed against his broad back made him feel safe—possibly for the first time since his mom died.
He couldn’t find the words. A lump thickened his throat, and he blinked back wetness. All he could do was clasp her hand and hold it, drawing her arms around him tighter. His breathing steadied, and while he couldn’t be at peace with his mother being gone, he also felt deep inside that there had been nothing he could have done to change her fate.
He'd stopped the beatings before, stood up for her and driven his father from the house. He’d even held him off with a shotgun, but his mother would never file a police report. No matter how he and Gino urged her to change the locks or not answer the door, she always let him in.
It wasn’t her fault. She loved him more than she loved herself. She died believing she had a chance to earn his love. She thought if only she’d done more of what he wanted, he would have rewarded her with care and concern.
“I won’t reward you, ever,” he said out loud. “Whatever I give you will always be a gift.”
“I know.” She kissed the back of his head and cuddled closer. “It was a gift you deserved.”
Chapter Twenty
The rain stopped overnight,and sunlight streamed through the blocked and checked hunting style curtains. Avery hadn’t noticed how overdone they were the night before—long drapes with whole cloth squares of patchwork of red, green, and brown plaid with bears, deer, moose, and tree motifs that looked like they were printed with a potato.
The rickety dresser was scratched and dented with mismatched knobs, and the lampshade on the deer antler lamp was weathered and cracked over a dusty base.
The mattress was hard and lumpy, but the man whose body lay sprawled over it, taking all the space, was as cuddly as granite rock. Okay, so he was all elbows and angles, and he tossed and turned in his sleep, restless, but somehow, she didn’t mind being jiggled and jostled awake throughout the night.
She propped herself on her side and admired the view. Detective Jason Burnett was every ounce of hunky masculinity, but asleep and breathing evenly, there was a sweet air of vulnerability that made her want to kiss his booboos away and rest his cares and worries in her lap. It wasn’t easy being a policeman, and she had been too hasty to blame him when things didn’t go well.
She’d never put herself in his shoes, but watching him sleep, his brow knit, and his movements jerky, she wondered what nightmares he kept suppressed underneath that ready, aim, fire demeanor.
He grunted and kicked off the rumpled sheets. His eyeballs rolled underneath closed eyelids, and sweat dotted his face. His breathing was labored, and he thrashed, muttering, “No, no, no.”
“Jason.” She reached for him, wiping her palm over his sweaty face. She cupped his jaw and shook him. “Jason. I’m here. Wake up.”
He almost shook her off, but she held him as tight as she could, resting her weight on him, and his eyes snapped open.
For a moment, it didn’t look like he knew who she was or where they were. He blinked, eyes narrowed with a puzzled expression, and then clarity returned and his gaze softened.
“Avery, did I hurt you?”
She couldn’t help smiling inside. No matter what was going on, his first concern was her.
“No, Jase, you could never hurt me.”
“Don’t be too sure.” He wrapped a protective arm around her. “I was in the middle of a fight when you woke me.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, always the hero.” She dotted a kiss on his lips. “So, now that you’re awake, what are you thinking?”
He returned her kiss, taking his sweet time. His big hand threaded through her hair, and his other hand ran down her back to rest on her behind.
She was here for him. Comforting him, and she put all the tender feelings she had into her kisses. Instinctively, she knew he’d never shared the pain that haunted him with anyone else. He wasn’t the type to wear his feelings on his sleeve. He was the hardened professional, and he was alpha enough to believe he didn’t need protecting.
Yet here he was, like putty in her arms. She should feel privileged that he’d trusted her. Or was it only because he felt he’d hurt her? No matter. She was the one kissing him and calming him from a bad night’s sleep.
She put all of her tender feelings into the kiss, gently caressing him with her lips while he, the rascal, greedily locked his mouth over hers and deepened the kiss dramatically.
Sweet he definitely wasn’t, and just like that, the temperature skyrocketed. Electric impulses zinged through her body where Jason touched, and the edge of his unshaven jaw brushed her burning skin like gasoline thrown over a gas grill.
Her lips and tongue grappled with his, dipping deep into his mouth and sweeping back across his lips. A hunger she’d never known rose deep within her, swelling like a tidal surge. Heat blossomed over her entire body, and she squirmed, rolling with him as he turned her first to her side, and then crushed her beneath the hard masculinity of his muscular body.
The jutting erection had her full attention, pressed between the junction of her legs, guarded only by the jeans she wore to bed. Her skimpy tank top was no match for his roving hands. His fingers found her nipples hard and pointed.
She arched her back, begging for what came next and rubbing herself against him like a cat in heat.
