Body of Trust: A Romantic Suspense Novel Read online

  I put my bag on the floor and kick off my shoes. Since Jesse wants me to stay here until the drawing, we stopped by my place for clothes. He didn’t say a word to me while I put things in a bag and gathered my toiletries.

  Silence.

  That’s all I’ve been given from him, and I don’t know what to do with it.

  He walks into his room, and I watch from the hallway as he empties his pockets on the dresser. His back is arched, and he looks defeated as he pads into the bathroom.

  I walk into the kitchen to get a drink and hear the water in the bathroom running. I sigh as I drink my water and wonder how angry he must be with me. I didn’t trust him. All he’s ever asked from me was my trust, and I haven’t given it until today. I doubted him. The one person who has protected me in all of this, I doubted.

  It makes me feel so horrible.

  I open the refrigerator for … I don’t even know. When I do, I’m shocked to see it’s filled. Milk, orange juice, bread, eggs, fresh fruit, and even the ginger beer I like for my Moscow mules. I close the door and open the cupboard, smiling when I see a copper mug.

  He bought things that I like. It’s so thoughtful, considering how little time he had to make this happen.

  I’m such a fool.

  A great man entered my life, and I questioned him when it mattered most. I ran from him actually. If he had done that to me, I would have been livid. I ran, and he knew exactly where to find me because he listens.

  Do I even listen to him?

  Words he’s said sing inside of me.

  “… I’m fucking crazy about you! You’re all I think about.… The moment your life was threatened, I was destined to save it.”

  “It’s you and me, Amelia. Just us.”

  “I don’t know what will happen to us when this is over.”

  I walk into the living room and stare at his mother’s painting. The theft of it is a sweet and impossibly sad action. Connection to family means everything to this man, even when he’s risking his life to protect others.

  Who protects him?

  He said he’d take a bullet for me. He deserves a woman who would do the same for him.

  I head into the bedroom and see the steam from the shower wafting out the bathroom door. I walk into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

  I can’t see him through the shower curtain, but I know he hears as I unzip my jeans and undress.

  Naked, I push back the curtain and step inside the tub. Jesse’s back is to me. His arm is on the tiled wall in front of him, bracing his body, and he lets the hot water pummel over his head.

  I rest a hand on his back. He doesn’t flinch.

  The water cascades down his back, hitting my fingertips and running over my skin. Slowly, I move my hand up his spine and rest it between his shoulder blades and down, tenderly rubbing his back.

  My hand rises with his body as he breathes deeply, letting the tension go.

  He stands up straight, running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back. I wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. My cheek is against his skin, and my hands are buried in his chest and torso.

  A wise man once told me the way to win a game of poker is to know your opponents’ tells. Jesse can’t hide his sadness. Not with his eyes, his posture, or his heavy breaths. The reason he can’t hide from me is because he’s never wanted to.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “You said to never apologize, but I owe you one. I shaded you today. The shock of seeing my father and the fear of everything that’d happened blinded me. I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t trust you.”

  His stomach muscles tighten beneath my hands.

  I lift my head and speak into the back of his, “I don’t know why I did what I did today because the God’s honest truth is, you’re the only person I actually do trust. More than my parents, my friends, myself. I trust you with my life, Jesse, and that thought is powerful. I’ve never felt like this for someone before. I let my own insecurities get in the way of all the good you’re doing. Because that’s what you are. You’re good. Everyone should have a heart as pure as yours. And a smile as bright as the one that graces your lips. You have a way of making me laugh like no one else, and I feel so damn safe at the same time. You calm me and help me think clearly. And I’m failing you because I don’t know how to be that person for you.”

  He turns around, and my heart jolts.

  He’s crying, but it’s not a sobbing mess of tears. No, Jesse Davenport cries with his soul. His blue gaze is glass-like and red-rimmed while his mouth is downturned. The touch of his hands on my arms as he runs them up and down even has a sadness to them.

  “I don’t know how else to ask you,” he breathes.

  “For your trust? You have it. I swear to you, from now on, I will never falter in my conviction. Teach me how to live in your world.”

  He closes his eyes. “All you have to do is believe.”

  “In what?”

  “Us, Amelia. I’ve only ever asked for you to believe in us. That means, you have to trust me. More importantly, you have to trust yourself.”

  “I understand that now. My entire life, I was a lamb. You’ve turned me into a lion. I’m proud to be in this with you. I’m proud to be yours. And not only with my body, but also my mind.” I pause, running my hand over my chest. “And my heart.”

  He takes my head in his hands and draws circles on my cheeks. “Sweet Amelia. If you mean what you say, I won’t be able to give you up when this is all over.”

  “Jesse”—I can’t keep my voice from cracking—“you make it sound so romantic.”

  “Isn’t it? The undercover agent posing as a bartender, trying to infiltrate a mob family, falls for the daughter of the man he’s trying to take down?”

  I let out a laugh. “When you put it that way, no. It sounds like fiction.”

  “It’s not, baby. It’s our life, and we just have to navigate it.”

  I lean forward and kiss him tenderly. It’s a simple kiss. A closed-mouth one that opens up my body to wanting more.

  More of everything. More of him.

  My eyes flutter as I fight off the rain shower. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.

  My beautiful hero.

  Kissing my face, throat, and lips, he runs his hands up and down my back. I lift onto my tiptoes, deepening the kiss, which only joins my core with his growing erection.

  This isn’t what this was about. I didn’t come in here to seduce him, but now that his wet flesh is sliding against mine, I can’t help but want this from him. I want to be close to Jesse, and there’s nothing closer than having him buried deep inside me.

  I slide my hand down the rigid planes of his torso and caress the slick rod of his erection. When I pump my hand, he throws his head back in ecstasy, and I kiss the underside of his chin.

  Gripping my hips, he gently pushes me against the smooth tiles. The cold bursts against my backside, but it’s quickly dissipated when his heated flesh flattens against me, searing me with his kisses and the hardened promise of a cock that sits just outside my entrance.

  He tugs my hair, pushing my head to the side as his mouth devours the tender skin of my neck. I moan as he sucks on the flesh; at the same time, his other hand parts my thighs and rubs against my sensitive core. When his mouth finds mine again, he is demanding as he kisses me, leaving me breathless.

  He’s relentless in his actions, commanding my body with his mouth and hands. He flips me around, and my ass is pulled toward his groin. He’s about to enter me when he stills.

  I turn to see him staring at himself, hard just outside my entrance.

  “Take me bare, Jesse.” My words have his eyes shooting up to mine.

  He weighs the options for a moment before sliding inside of me.

  I arch my back up to meet him while staying on my tiptoes. Using the wall for balance, I revel in the sensation of Jesse inside me.

  “You feel amazing,” he grunts as he pulls my mouth toward his. H
e kisses me while pumping into me from behind. He has to go slow because the angle is too narrow.

  I’m completely enveloped in everything Jesse. His arms around me, his body hovering over mine, and his passion seeping deep into me, igniting a fire that is about to explode.

  I place a hand on his cheek and pull him closer. My kisses falter as my breathing takes over.

  “You’re so beautiful when you’re about to come.” He squeezes my nipple, and it shoots pleasure straight to my throbbing clit, which he’s still fondling. “I could fuck you every day for the rest of my life and never tire.”

  “I’ll let you. Take me. Every day.” I gasp as the orgasm hits me like a bolt of lightning. “Forever.” I barely get the word out as I convulse around his cock.

  I’m still high on my orgasm as he shuts the water off and steps out. He wraps me in a towel and then lifts me, walking us, dripping wet, into the bedroom.

  He lays me down and spreads my legs, burying his mouth over my sensitive and throbbing clit.

  “Jesse!” I scream as he relentlessly swirls his tongue in circles, pinning my knees down to the bed so I can’t move. All I can do is grip the sheets and call out to the gods as a second wave of an orgasm comes crashing down my body.

  My back is arched as I buck off the bed.

  When he climbs back on top of me, my legs are open, ready for him to enter me. When he does, it’s rugged and sensual. His bare cock is so damn hard and thick as it plummets into me while he takes over my body. This isn’t sweet. No, he’s marking me. Calling me his own.

  I wrap my legs around his ass and push him further, telling him to take me.

  The first time we were together, we made love. Then, we had passionate sex. Now, it’s primal and animalistic. We seem to be working backward. That’s how we are—a couple growing more intense with every day that passes.

  I push on his chest and swing my legs, so he lies on his back. If he wants to lay claim, now, it’s my turn.

  With my body, I command him.

  With a roll of my hips, I take his pleasure.

  With my kisses, I drink his pain.

  And with my words, I tell him, “You’re mine.”

  “I’m yours,” he groans into my mouth as he comes inside of me.

  And just like that, I give my entire world to Jesse.

  And I take his.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’m on my knees, searching for a frying pan but having no luck.

  After we made ferocious love, Jesse and I both fell asleep. When I woke, I saw it was nine o’clock at night, and my stomach was growling from not having eaten all day.

  Now, I’m in his kitchen, looking through the oak cabinets for a pan to make the chicken cutlets that are in the refrigerator.

  “You’re cute, but you’re noisy,” Jesse says, making me look up at him from my spot on the floor.

  “Funny.” I grimace. “I want to make chicken cutlets, and I need something to cook them in.”

  He opens the cabinet next to the one I’m looking in. A long frying pan sits on the shelf.

  I make a face at him as I grab it and stand up. His eyes roam over the sight of me only wearing a T-shirt and panties.

  “You look good in my clothes.” He winks, and I shimmy my hips as I take out the ingredients for dinner.

  Eggs, breadcrumbs, and oil are all lined up on the Formica countertop.

  “When did you get all this stuff?” I ask as I look to see what kind of sides there are. I spy a head of romaine and decide to make a simple salad.

  He leans against the counter. “I asked the chef at Villa Russo to put together some groceries for me. He dropped them off. I knew you were safe with Sienna, so I came here quick to change and get my gun.”

  “I didn’t even realize you had it with you.”

  “That’s the point of a concealment calf holster.”

  I look down at his legs, which are covered in sweats. “Do you have it on now?”

  He smiles. “No. But I do have weapons hidden around the house.” I bite my lip, and he lowers his forehead. “Does that scare you?”

  “The opposite.” I shake my head as I crack an egg in a bowl. “I was actually thinking I should learn how to protect myself.”

  “You need to,” he says, leaning his hip against the counter and crossing his arms. I love the way his biceps look in a simple T-shirt when they’re crossed like this. “What do you want to know?”

  I smile at how easily he thinks I can defend myself. I’m not sure of many people who would give me that credit. With a shrug, I suggest, “Maybe what to do if someone like Rocco tries to grab me again?”

  “I’ll show you.” He unfolds his arms as he steps away from the counter.

  I look back at him and realize he means, “Now?”

  “No better time than the present.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I wipe my hands on a towel and follow him into the living room.

  He pushes the couch to one side of the room and moves the coffee table to the other.

  He turns me around and grabs me by my waist. “We’ll start easy. If an attacker grabs you like this, what would you do?”

  I try to wiggle free and push his arms down and around, but I can’t.

  “First thing you have to do is relax,” he says, gripping me tighter. “Next, I want you to take a step forward with your right foot and use your left foot for balance. Then, with your right elbow, strike the attacker in the face.”

  I lift my elbow in the air. “Anywhere?”

  “Aim for the jaw, temple, or cheekbone.”

  His grip gets even tighter as I take a step forward, as instructed, and then, with as much energy as I can muster, I lift my elbow and rocket it back into Jesse’s face, sending him flying.

  “What the hell, Amelia!” he shouts, grabbing his cheek.

  “Oh my God, I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? You told me to strike and I did what you said and—”

  My words are swallowed with his kiss as he lifts me off the floor and slams me onto the couch. His hands are on my torso, making me giggle and laugh and beg for mercy.

  He relents, and I hit him in the arm. “You made me think I hurt you!”

  With his hand on his face, he admits, “You did actually. Not bad for a rookie.”

  I’m grinning as he lifts me off the couch and back to where we were demonstrating.

  “Wait,” he says with a finger in the air and then jogs down the hall. When he comes back, he’s wearing a helmet, like one for a cage fighter.

  “What is that for?”

  “My face is a valuable asset. I can’t have you beating me up,” he jokes, and I stick my tongue out at him.

  He shows me how to trap an attacker coming for my neck, using my biceps and pivoting my body away from the attacker while lowering my elbow, making their hands come with me.

  If I’m attacked from behind, I can turn my hand into a hammer fist, twist, and strike.

  We practice for an hour. Many of my attempts to fend him off end poorly, but he doesn’t give up on me.

  We’re still starving, so to speed up the process of preparing dinner, Jesse joins me in the kitchen, and together, we bread the cutlets and make dinner.

  “Where did you learn those moves?” I ask as we eat dinner on the floor with our plates on the coffee table.

  “That is basic self-defense. I’m surprised you didn’t learn that in high school.”

  I laugh. “I went to a private prep school, where the only form of self-defense we were taught was how to use pepper spray and a rape whistle.” I point at the magazine next to my plate, making him nod.

  “I really like cage fighting. I take classes twice a week on the island. It’s a great way to stay in shape and learn some new moves.”

  I pause mid-chew. “Do you think I’m going to need to know any of those for Saturday?”

  “It can’t hurt. You’ll be wearing a wire, so I’ll know everything that’s going on.” His hand finds mine across the table and entwines o
ur fingers. “I’ll be with you the entire time. You won’t see me, but I’ll be there.”

  “I know. I’m going to be a ball of nerves until then.”

  “Me too,” he admits, and for the first time, I see a glimpse of nervousness in his eyes.

  We finish eating and clean up together. It’s a nice dance we settle into as he washes and I dry. I clean the counters, and he wipes the coffee table down.

  When everything is put away, I’m restless from the nap I took.

  He must be, too, because he sits down on the couch and turns on the TV. His arm is on the back of the couch as he looks over and beckons me with his finger.

  I go in and curl into his side.

  “Wait,” he says, popping off the cushions and walking down the hall. When he returns, it’s with a crocheted quilt in his hands and a smile on his face. “We’re missing something.”

  He settles back into his spot and lays the blanket over us before putting his arm around me and pulling me into him.

  I look at the blanket, which is baby blue and white and looks like something my great-grandmother would have made. “Did you get this at an estate sale too?”

  “My grandmother made this when I was born. I took it from my parents’ house when I went back for the painting.”

  He kisses the top of my head and turns on a comedy for us to watch. As I lie here, buried into his side, I finally admit to myself that I’m falling in love with Jesse Davenport.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As I drive up the highway toward I-84, I’m a little less nervous than I thought I’d be. I think it’s because after the most drama-filled days of my life, yesterday was so boring that it was delightful.

  I woke up with Jesse, and we both dressed for the day. He drove me to work with a kiss on the cheek good-bye, and I did my job.

  It was hard to look at DeLuca, knowing he, too, was part of this scheme. I can’t tell him what I know because that would implicate Jesse and endanger everyone around us. So, I stayed in my cubicle, typing away until five o’clock.

  I usually stay at work later, but I didn’t think it was wise to stay too late and risk being there alone. Plus, it was Friday, and everyone starts pouring out around that time.