Page 24 of Mr. On Your Knees
“This is exactly the style of house I said I wanted,” she said quietly.
He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Yeah, I know.”
She turned slowly to face him. “Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, chef’s kitchen, walk-out patio, pool in the yard?”
He nodded very slowly now.
The corner of her mouth tilted in a smile and she shook her head. “Why?” she asked. “Why do the very thing you told me I was rushing you to do? I wanted a house and you said no. I wanted to talk about getting a joint checking account so we could pay all the household bills from there. You said no, even though we’d agreed that we would still have our separate accounts as well. I wanted…” Her voice broke.
“What do you want right now, Desi?” he asked because he couldn’t stand if she cried. If she stood in his living room and broke down because of all he’d said and done to her in the past Jared knew he wouldn’t be able to take it. And sure, that was the coward’s way of thinking because he deserved everything Desi had to say to him. It was that way of thinking that had kept him quiet when she railed at him again that day she moved out. For an hour she’d gone in on him, telling him all the things he’d done and said over the course of their seven-month relationship that had hurt or disappointed her. And while he’d known the key ones, he was taken aback when she’d said he never made her feel safe. That had broken him down even more because there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for this woman, not then and not now. Anything except give her all the things that moved toward growing a more committed relationship between them.
“Tell me what you want me to do right now and I’ll do it,” he said.
For a moment they both stood still, holding each other’s gazes. His heart was thumping in his chest as he prayed the thing she wanted didn’t consist of him taking her home. Not yet, please not yet.
When she walked over to him, her shoulders squared, legs looking unfucking-believable in those impossibly high heels, he sucked in a breath. She stopped barely a foot away from him and dragged her tongue over her lips.
“I want you on your knees, Jared. Now.”
What the hell did she just say? He had to be dreaming, a vivid ass dream that had his dick throbbing immediately, pressing almost painfully against the zipper of his jeans. “Desi,” he whispered, his throat rough with the one word as he continued to stare at her.
She shook her head. “Now.”
Her tone was harder, sterner than he’d ever heard it before as her gaze stayed locked on his. He had no idea what was going on at this moment. Again, this wasn’t how he’d envisioned this night going. But the way his dick had just jumped when she spoke, he didn’t waste another moment. He lowered himself to the floor slowly, letting his knees touch the chocolate brown rug that lined his living room floor. She took a step closer to him, extending a hand so she could run a finger over his lips.
Heat washed over him, similar to the way it had when they’d been at the lounge and he hadn’t been able to keep himself from touching her. Again, the plan had been just to talk to her but he hadn’t been able to resist touching the bare skin of her legs. And the moment his fingers had trailed along the soft warmth of her skin he’d needed more. Now that contact was coming from her, one nail slid along the rim of his bottom lip and he shivered. Like a real ass sensual chill ran down his body and he blinked faster as he looked up at her.
“You said you wanted me,” she said, her tongue snaking out to brush over her lips. “Is that still true?”
“Fuck yeah,” he groaned and she eased that finger between his lips. He sucked it inside, jerking slightly at the rasp of her medium-length nail scraping lightly over his tongue. Every muscle tensed in his body and his fingers clenched as he inhaled deeply.
She smelled like flowers and rain, fresh and yet subtle. Perfumes gave her horrible sinus headaches so she usually opted for softer fragrances like some oils or those misty sprays she purchased from Victoria’s Secret or Bath and Body Works. He’d never understood how those scents were actually lighter to her than perfume because they’d still lingered throughout the apartment they’d shared long after she’d left.
“I’ve been trying to decide what’s going on here,” she continued, pulling her finger from his mouth and moving her hand to cup his chin.
He groaned when she roughly tilted his head back further. Normally, when she wasn’t wearing heels, his six feet two-and-a-half-inch stature towered over her five-foot seven height. Tonight, with the help of the sexiest strappy sandals he’d ever seen, she’d almost been eye-to-eye with him and moments ago as she’d stood so close he’d fought the urge to reach out and grab her neck to pull her closer to him. He didn’t have to do that now because she stared down at him, her eyes clouded with lust—a look he hadn’t seen in far too long.
“I wanted to continue being angry with you, to hate you for breaking up what I thought was the best thing in my life.”
“Baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered. He’d say it over and over again, would fucking beg her forgiveness if that’s what she planned by having him on his knees in front of her.
“Shut up!” she yelled and squeezed his chin in her hand. “You’ve said that already. So many times, Jared. So many fuckin’ times.”
For a second, he thought she might cry, the hitch in her tone echoed in his mind and he knew that if she did this time he’d cry right along with her. She’d broken him down that day she left, in a way he’d never thought he would be again. That night he’d lay in the bed they’d shared for those last four months of their relationship and cried in the deafening silence. He’d known exactly how they’d gotten to that point and had wanted to scream with how helpless it all made him feel. It had been like watching the proverbial train wreck, knowing he was messing up with her and not being able to stop it before it was too late.
“Desi,” he whispered.
She snatched her hand away from him and stepped back. “Didn’t I tell you to shut up.”
He missed her touch immediately. Even though there’d been nothing sexual about the way she’d gripped him, he still felt the loss of her closeness. He reached out a hand and opened his mouth but her narrowed gaze had him snapping it closed again.
“You say you’re sorry for what happened and that you want me,” she said, and he watched her hands moving to the belt that had been tied on her left side, just beneath her breast.
He swallowed hard as she undid it and eased the material of the dress apart until he could see the black lingerie she wore beneath it. His gaze roamed over the way the bra cupped her generous breasts, pushing them up until her cleavage had almost spilled out of the dress. He’d felt those lacy panties earlier when he’d pushed the crotch of them aside and slipped his fingers into her wet pussy.
“I want you to show me,” she said and eased the dress down off her shoulders. The material pooled at her feet and she hooked her fingers in the sides of her panties, pushing them down her legs slowly.
He watched her step out of them, his fingers clenching as he remained where he was kneeling on the floor. If he extended his arms he could touch her, could feel the soft warmth of her skin once again, but he didn’t, not yet.
