Kaleidoscope
Page 39

I knew it was leaving him when he planted himself inside and stayed there, not moving, hands gripping my hips, pads of his fingers digging in and there was something about being connected to him like that, held by him like that, no movement, just that.
All that he had was his. My sex. My hips. My body on its knees before him. Just his.
I was Jacob’s.
I shivered.
Jacob pulled out. I felt his lips trail across the small of my back as his fingertips drifted down the side of my thigh before he leaned over me.
“Now, baby, you curl up under the covers,” he said gently in my ear. “But, want you to know, there’ll come a time, later, when you’re used to me, I’ll leave you like this. You’ll stay like this. So when I come back, I can get under you and eat that wet you give me.”
That sounded decadent and thrilling and it kind of scared me, but I wanted to do it now.
“Drop and curl up for me, Emme.”
I fell to my side and curled up.
Jacob yanked the covers out from under me and pulled them over me. He slid my hair off my neck, kissed my jaw and I felt the bed move as he exited it.
When he disappeared in his bathroom (that would be fabulous bathroom, massive sunken Jacuzzi tub, the room also decorated in creams and blacks with the rich addition of midnight blues), I tore my eyes from their avid contemplation of watching his muscles move while he walked and spied the kaleidoscope sitting on the carved wooden box on his nightstand.
Even as this sight warmed me, knowing and seeing the proof Jacob kept me close, I didn’t want my mind to go where I felt right then it was taking me. I was sated. I’d come twice. Hard. And I was na**d in Jacob Decker’s bed, he was Jacob and he was also a man who could make me come while making love to me (twice).
But seeing the kaleidoscope I gave Jacob so close at hand, my mind went there.
I was happy to live my life disconnected.
Until that day I handed that kaleidoscope to Jacob.
I’d seen it in a shop and thought it was stunning.
I didn’t know what drove me to go back and get it when I heard what happened with Jacob and Elsbeth. I just went, found out from a mutual acquaintance where he was staying and took it to him.
Once I knocked on that hotel room door, he didn’t make me wait. I knew he saw me through the peephole and didn’t have to think about it before opening it to me.
It hurt he didn’t let me in but I understood. So I handed him the box, watched him open it, pull out the kaleidoscope and handle it with care, turning it in his big hands.
I also remember thinking, as I watched him handle that stained glass, it felt almost like he was touching me with that kind of care.
You think you lost beauty, Jacob, but you didn’t. I’d said and I’d smiled what I was sure was a sad but stupid smile. Just turn the dial.
I’d wanted him to know she wasn’t good enough for him. I’d wanted him to know I understood she made a bad mistake and he was worth taking any way he’d want to give himself. I’d wanted him to know he could, and should, find better.
I’d wanted to take his pain away.
I’d failed in that.
What I didn’t see was what neither of us saw but what Elsbeth did. Right under her nose, he’d found better.
Me.
But when he kissed my cheek, said sweet words to me and closed the door, I walked away.
I didn’t try to go back.
I wasn’t happy living my life disconnected, especially not disconnected from Jacob. I just didn’t realize it and went about my life like I’d been doing before, burying the fact that I’d found the man who was meant for me, and let him go.
Of course, he was my ex–best friend’s boyfriend.
But then he wasn’t.
And I let him go.
Just then, looking at that kaleidoscope, I knew why.
Harvey did that to me.
Jacob sauntered out of the bathroom, taking my attention again, giving me the opportunity to debate if his front was better than his back (front won because it included his face, which had a hank of hair that had fallen over his eye).
It also gave me a brief but happy moment to study all that was him.
My first viewing was that first night we made love, so turned on, I didn’t know a person could get that turned on, watching him at the foot of the bed taking his clothes off, exposing the power that he hid underneath that I thought was only barely hidden.
But seeing it all, he was hiding a lot.
What seemed like miles of defined muscle, broad shoulders, ridged abs, thick thighs, expansive smooth chest, bulky arms and how he was endowed, the biggest I’d ever seen, and also the most beautiful.
Watching him expose it to me, I got even more turned on.
And even just coming twice, watching him walk that power to me right then, I again got turned on.
He joined me in bed, hauling me over him so I was lying on top, flat out.
His eyes came to mine, his head gave a short jerk and his fingers at my h*ps dug in.
“Emme,” he whispered.
Clearly, I was wearing my thoughts on my face, and not the ones about his big, beautiful body.
“There’s something you need to know about me,” I announced.
His hands at my h*ps slid up and around so he was holding me lightly as his eyes held mine.
“Tell me,” he encouraged, his words quiet, interested, coaxing but not demanding.
Such a nice guy.
“When I was twelve,” I started swiftly so I wouldn’t back down from saying it, “I was kidnapped.”
He closed his eyes and his arms convulsed.
“He was a good man,” I declared.
Jacob’s eyes shot open.
“His name was Harvey,” I shared.
“Em—”
I kept going, talking over him to get it out.
“He’d lost his daughter and wife in a car accident. I looked like his daughter. He went a little loopy, which is understandable, saw me, snatched me from recess at school and took me to his house. He had me three days. He did five years in prison for three days.”
“Baby—”
“He asked me to wear his daughter’s clothes. I did. I was too young to know that was weird. He fed me her favorite foods. That was okay because hers were mine. He didn’t let me leave the house or get near windows. And he cried a lot.”
One of his arms wrapped tighter around my lower back, one of his hands slid up my spine and into my hair as he said, “Emme, honey—”
I kept going.
“Outside of snatching me, which was scary, he didn’t touch me. Nothing bad happened. He didn’t even call me her name. He knew I wasn’t her. He was just messed up. Sad and messed up.”