CHAPTER TWELVE.

With the water turned off, Sugar watched the droplets flow down her arms and off her fingertips. She didn't know what to do with herself as Jared's words tumbled in her subconscious. I'll be waiting for you.

The bathroom was like a sauna. Steam clouds rolled through the large room. Surrounded by foggy mirrors and steam, she shivered. Goosebumps raced down her arms and legs as though his words were tangible, stroking over her damp skin. Conflicted and confused, she didn't understand why his one-liners squeezed her heart. They couldn't be meant to penetrate as deeply as they did. He was a playboy. His lines were his tools. She wasn't stupid. Or maybe she was, and denying that his sentiments held truth was simply moronic.

The solid-wood bathroom door separated them. Jared wouldn't barnstorm the bathroom and tangle with her like they had in her hotel suite earlier. She knew it in her bones. He would wait her out because he had said this could be different and that he cared. And he'd promised not to hurt her.

She was naked and hidden by a wall. She considered wrapping herself in a towel. Not like that stopped him before. But in her suite, it'd been all freestyle sex. This would be different. The register of his voice and the strength in his hold had said so.

"What are you waiting for?" she whispered to her fogged reflection in the mirror.

Her nerves were popping like fizzy champagne. The booty embargo lift was in full effect. Even her emotional veil had inched back. Before, it'd been playtime. Now, Jared had strong words and serious looks.

Chaos and emotion reigned in her brain. Her palms felt ready to detonate the second she walked out the door. And that had nothing to do with sex.

Go time. She grabbed a robe, tied it snugly, and cracked the door. Across from the bathroom, Jared was propped against the wall, brooding.

Bulging, bare muscles crossed his chiseled chest. Gray sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips. A dark trail of hair smattered from below his belly button to the teasing waistband.

Her throat ached. Her stomach somersaulted. "You've been waiting long?"

"Longer than I realized." He stepped toward her on bare feet. They locked in a trance as the heat of the steamy bathroom enveloped them.

With a flick of her wrists, she displayed her hands. "Had to scrub all that grease off my fingernails."

"Not what I meant." His words came out in a guttural growl, making her muscles clench. He took another step closer. "You're unbelievable."

Jared unfolded his arms. Rippled muscles and skin pulled taut across his broad chest. He closed the space between them before she could say something to ruin the magic.

She hesitated. "What if GSI shows up? Firebombs the door. Catches us... not paying attention."

"Impossible."

"Nothing's impossible." Case in point, she was standing with the half-naked Boss Man in his hotel bathroom.

"Then improbable."

"Oh, you got lines." A joke. A jab. Justification for her distrust. But it didn't feel like typical alpha stuff. It felt intense. Hot. Needy. When he talked, her body quaked. Her mind listened.

"The only thing I've got tonight is you."

And that, she heard. His fingers floated down the fabric of her robe, gliding from her shoulders to the sash, and toyed with the knot. "You need a change of clothes?"

"Eventually."

Arousal flashed deep in his black eyes. "Eventually. Noted."

She could've pulled up her protective shields. Relationships should be defined as disasters. Some couples could pull them off; most couples couldn't. Not that Jared was offering coupledom.

Sugar would never chase a man after he'd lost interest. No way would she turn a spineless blind eye like her mother had.

The more entangled she and Jared became, the harder she would fall, and the more it would hurt when he walked away. She would keep her pride, and he would never look back. Whatever Jared's current interest was with their spark, it would smolder and eventually die.

"Sugar?" Jared melted his body against hers, hands moving to her hips. "Lost you for a sec'."

"No. I'm here."

"Bullshit, woman. One second, you're all..." He purposely raked his gaze over her, studying her curves as though they hid his promised land. "But now you're closed off."

"Imagining things, J-dawg."

"J-dawg? The nickname of defense mechanisms. Now, I know I was right." He nipped her earlobe. "Lilly."

She flinched in his arms and turned to face him. Nose-to-nose with him, her eyes flared. "My name's Sugar. I don't go by Lilly." That was the name her parents gave her. That was a weak name. The name didn't hide the softer side that she'd decided to bury long ago.

A heaven-sent smile made her knees shake. "It suits you."

"The names aren't interchangeable." She wanted to wrap the robe tighter, to run away from the bruised nerve that he had no idea he'd stomped upon. But she wasn't going anywhere, not when he smiled and looked and smelled the way he did. He was all suave alpha male on a mission, and his spiel was straight truth serum.

"I like Lilly, Lilly. You can't make up rules and expect everyone to play by them." He loosened the sash and slid a hand under the robe to her barely damp hip. Rough and strong, the contact was simple and erotic. A wave of shivers rioted across her skin, from her breasts to belly and beyond. The pads of his fingers flexed into her skin. "I play by my own rules. Thought you'd know that by now."

She knew. Sighing, she let his hand explore her stomach. Sweet mercy, we'll never make it into his bedroom. She would be a puddle of mush. Jell-O legs and spaghetti arms. Pulling it together was more than necessary. The embargo might've been trashed, but her heart still needed swaddling. He was a damn visceral vice that hulked half-naked in front of her, but she could survive this obsession.

"I like control." She tried to sound convincing, but it came out a whisper. "Rules. Mottos. Mantras. Have them for a reason."

He pulled the sash loose and let the ends fall free to dangle by her sides. His palms slipped over her nipples. Traitorous tits. They'd been begging for his attention, and he noticed, teasing each mound with a massage that would make her climax if he wasn't careful.

"You think I don't have a code? Fuck it. Let's forget my T-and-A tenets and your guard-your-heart statutes." His thumbs and forefingers teased until her eyes closed and her body went soft against his.

Guard my heart? Her bottom lip quivered, and she didn't try to stop it. "I'm not in a good place to negotiate."

"So don't. Give me the sincere Sugar. I like to play with the ball-bustin' Sugar, but bench her tonight. I want the real deal."

"I'm-"

"Nope. Don't lie to me." He brushed his lips down her neck. His teeth dragged, ordering lightning bolts to rappel down her spine. "Don't hold anything back with me. Ever."

"Ever?" She rolled her neck, allowing him full access. He was asking for a lot. But she could trust him.

She could... right? Yes. She could. She would.

"Ever," he growled. The authority in the word and the iron-clad strength in his tone made it a commitment that she could agree to.

"Okay." A weight in her chest lightened. Wait. The foggy mirror reflected a fresh scar on his shoulder. Sugar stalled, turning for a better look. "This is recent."

"Shrapnel. Doc got it all out." He went back to her neck. "Won't say it doesn't still hurt."

"You were injured when you came back for me?" She batted his mouth away. "Jared?"

"Got an ugly freshie on the back of my leg if you want to gawk at that, too." He brushed a wet strand of hair away from her cheek. "Nothing could stop me from bringing you home."

"Oh." Nothing? Maybe I can do this with Jared. Maybe.

She grasped his cheeks and kissed him hard, needing to convey what "Oh" meant without uttering a word. She could feel all of him. His hard-on strained into his sweatpants as her robe acted as a curtain, framing her naked body for him.

Their tongues tangoed, dancing to the tempo of a symphony progression, entwining and caressing. It was an overture, a prelude to his delectable devouring of her, completely and totally, leaving an undying need for more.

"No more games." Jared scooped her into his arms.

"Agreed." Her fingernails grazed his stubble, scratching his chiseled jaw. "No more."

Gone was the steamy bathroom. He carried her into the dimly lit bedroom, placing her in the middle of a luxurious down comforter. Satin and silk surrounded her body. The bed dipped as he came closer. His large frame steeled above her.

"Every time I close my eyes, Sugar, this is what I see. You. Naked. And all mine."

She almost choked. She wanted that, needed to hear it, and would take whatever temporary basis he offered. For this moment, she could justify his ill-guided confession.

Sugar pushed her arms out of the robe and offered a crystal-clear invitation. Her. Him. Now. "You're the one wearing pants. What should I think about that?"

He captured her lip with a bite, groaning into her smile when she flexed her hips. "Such a bad girl. Always pushing me."

"That's how you like me."

"You know me too well."

Their mouths clashed. Her tongue grazed his, challenging and chasing. Heat rioted within her belly, swelling behind her breasts. Constricting in her throat. Saturating the area between her legs. Every sensitive zone was on a high alert, waiting impatiently for Jared to kiss, bite, and tease.

He found her nipple, freezing her breath. Mind-numbing, arousal-decreeing licks and flicks of his tongue caused her back to arch. Each suck and pinch elicited tiny bucks that she couldn't control.

God, how he made her feel and how her body responded... and he hadn't even really touched her. Not yet.

But he would. The vivid memory of their romp on the floor had given her a sneak preview of what she could expect. Great things. Monumental things. And that had nothing to do with the size of the heat he packed. Heaven help me.

"Enough," she ordered. "Lose the pants. Now, Jared."

He chuckled against her skin. "Not yet."

"You want me to beg?"

"No, sweetheart." He gave her a harsh kiss. "I need this as much as you do. Taking my time."

His hand trailed down her stomach, then between her legs. She was ready for him, slick enough for more than a tease. "Please."

"I want you burning for me."

She trembled against his barely there touch. Fast and furious was long over with. He was giving her a slow death, and she needed more. "That's just cruel."

"I'm a bastard doling out torture," he murmured, trailing the tips of his fingers across her folds.

Her head fell back, pushing deep into the feather comforter. He nudged and stroked, opening her to him. Variations of his name rolled off her tongue as she savored his fingers dancing against her flesh. Insane emotion built with their skin-on-skin collision.

"Fuckin' beautiful, Sugar. Love the sounds you make. Love how sweet you are."

Oh, God. He moved down to her stomach and dipped his tongue into her belly-button, then wrapped his free hand around her waist, pinning her still. She moaned his name again. No wonder he had a God complex. She couldn't stop from crying out. She didn't want to. Jared. Jared. Jared. Ruler of the bedroom, Jared.

His tongue trailed from one hip bone... lower and lower. He stopped.

"I'm dying." She couldn't hold back the begging any longer. "Put me out of my misery."

He smiled, laughing against her skin, then lavished her with sinful kisses while on his mission to her other hip bone. "I could do this all day."

"No, you can't." Her voice was hoarse. "You won't. We need this. Together."

He bit her flesh and speared a blunt finger into her wetness. She jackknifed. "True."

"Again," she moaned. She would beg again-anything to move along from anguish to apex.

He pressed into her again and circled his thumb against her most sensitive spot. His finger voyaged deeper against muscles that'd barely recovered from his previous entry.

"That good for you, baby?" Watching her face, he encircled her bud of nerves with his thumb. All she managed was a throaty sigh and a nod. A please continue, whatever happens, don't stop. "So expressive. Show me more. Show me the real Sugar."

Two fingers penetrated, slamming her eyes shut. Her head fell to the side, and her breaths erratically pounded their own beat. She drew her ankles back and bent her knees against his broad shoulders. He lowered his head, poised at the center of her heat.

"Jared..."

And he kissed.

"Yes." She swallowed the word, failing to breathe and speak simultaneously. "I need you."

That honesty spiraled her mind. His fingers and tongue found a staggering cadence, and she fell apart, not caring if the pieces never fit back together again.

Writhing against his onslaught, her legs wanted to snap closed, but his forearms wrapped around her thighs made it impossible. He licked as if dousing her in hot flames. Rapture filled her body. Pleasurable sensations and revelations overpowered her.

"Fall apart for me, Sugar." It was a directive, a command that roared for her attention. The vibrations between them reached to her soul, fueling the fervor. "Now, baby."

She unraveled, bucking into his mouth. He gripped her hips, holding her in place, drinking her in. His velvet tongue rode each pulse. Her hands ripped through his cropped hair. Unable to grasp strands, she gave up. Her hands smacked onto the bed with a mind of their own, gathering the comforter into her fists. Stars exploded in her head. Bright, shiny bolts of electricity zipped about the room.

He let her come down from her high. Slowly. She savored the wave of euphoria, soaking in the wonderfulness that was them.

"Perfect." He sat up, pulling her tight to him. In a voice gravelly and deep, he told her, "I've never tasted anything as perfect as you. Sweet fuckin' nectar, Sugar. I'm addicted."

Addicted? They should form a two-person support group to survive their high together. Her limbs shook. Her brain couldn't connect thoughts to words, so she said nothing. Jared rolled to the nightstand, shucked his pants, and slid on a condom.

He leaned over and kissed her. Lightly and lovingly, he started the path to a blistering explosion all over again. It held the hidden promise of a mind-scrambling release. That man always had a plan. An objective. Thank the gun gods above, it was her pleasure.

His wicked mouth did what she'd learned it did best-ravage her with kisses, turning their connection into something better. Nothing had ever been as good as Jared. Nothing ever would be.