“Abby,” he twirled one of my long reddish curls that was laying over my shoulder and on my breast, gliding his fingers along the sensitive skin. Something was bothering him, but my nak*dness was distracting, pulling him away from the thoughts that made him serious, but he couldn’t shake it. He didn’t drop the thought and soon I understood why. “I tried to keep this from happening, because I didn’t want to make you miserable. This doesn’t jive with what you believe at all, does it? I mean, doing erotic things and hav**g s*x on the floor... it’s not a marriage bed.”
I understood what he meant, “Jack, don’t worry. This wasn’t wrong in my head.” He looked at me, shocked, his perfect lips hanging open. I pressed a finger to his mouth, closing it, smiling softly at him. “I’m not the evangelical nut you seem to think I am. It’s not like that. There are a lot of things that don’t jive, and I just try to make the best of them. Like you. I feel funny saying this to you, since it’s about you and you can tell how long I’ve been enamored by you, but I will. It’s the only way you’ll see that I’m all right.”
His fingers pressed into my hair, his palm cupping my cheek, hanging on my every word. “Please tell me, Abby. Because right now I’m thinking that as soon as the lust clears you’re going to hate me.” His gaze remained on mine. That haunted fear depicted in his paintings was lingering in their depths.
“Don’t worry, Jack. This fits with what I believe, and it wasn’t made up on the fly. A long time ago I decided that soulmates were the best part of Creation. It’s a rare blessing to find someone who you can understand on a deeper level, but a soulmate goes beyond that. It’s like the two are linked, as if they were made for each other, like Eve was made for Adam. She not only shared his flesh, his body, but she shared his soul. There’s nothing closer than that. Marriage wasn’t even on the table then, and they were together. There are lots of other stories, haunting and horrible, where God’s people found their soulmate only to discover that they couldn’t be together. Others broke propriety and slept together before they were married. Ruth would be a total slut by today’s standards. She was a poor woman, and slept with her master because her mother-in-law told her to. But that wasn’t the only reason. She loved him. They were made for each other...” my voice drifted off, realizing that I’d just told him much more than I thought I would. It wasn’t that I wanted to hide it from him, it was that I was afraid of his reaction. The concept of a soulmate was so much more binding than the concept of marriage. It was more than monogamy. It was not having eyes for anyone else. It was being so lost in your lover that you weren’t complete without them.
“You think we’re soulmates?” he asked softly, taking a deep breath. I nodded. Understanding crossed his face. “That’s why... That’s why you said you’d already fallen.” He shook his head, seemingly annoyed with himself.
My heart fluttered with worry. Pushing up on my elbows, I looked over at him. “I teased you in high school because you had this try-it-before-you-buy-it mentality with women, so I thought that it wasn’t you—that you weren’t made for me. That moment of insanity, that second where I tried to kiss you so long ago,” I took a deep breathe, “that was what my gut was telling me, that you were made for me and I you. There’s no reason why you have to accept it at all, Jack. You asked, you wanted to make sure I’m okay, and I am.” Nervousness filled my stomach like cold eels. I wanted to squirm, run away, and hide—but I forced myself to sit there and wait for his blue eyes to narrow on me. I had to wait for his smooth lips to move and accept or reject me.
His hand fell away from my face while I was talking, his gaze falling on the canvas below us. When I’d finished there was silence. Jack stared, unblinking for way too long. My heart felt like it was going to explode, but he finally answered, “You’re gut wasn’t wrong, Abby. I wasn’t the player you thought I was. I’d done stuff, yeah, but not everything. And not with everyone I dated. There was something missing with them. Something I did have with you. I guarded what we had, I was so afraid of it slipping away, that I didn’t see what was in front of me.”
Heart pounding in my ears, I replied, “What was that, Jack?”
His lips pulled up into a perfectly crooked grin, “Abby, there’s always been something missing when you’re not around. I never connected with anyone the way I do with you, and I never wanted anyone as much as I wanted you.” His blue gaze pierced through my haze of shock. He still seemed hesitant, withdrawn. A confession was on his lips. I held back, wanting to both throw my arms around him and wanting to run. The look in his eyes made me cringe. “But I’ve made mistakes, Abby. There have been others. I’m not pure like you.”
I already knew that. Relief washed through me. “Jack, you didn’t know. Neither did I. The past is the past. We found each other. That’s all that matters.” While I was speaking, I moved to my knees, and kneeled in front of him taking his face in my hands, feeling his stubble against my palms. “I love you, Jack.” I pressed a gentle kiss against his lips, but he pulled me against his bare chest, kissing me harder.
When he came up for air, he was smiling wide, “You keep saying all the good things first!” he teased. “I was going to say that. I was going to tell you that I loved you, that I loved you from the first moment I saw you, and want to love you for the rest of my life. Life without you, Abby, you’ve seen what it was—the paintings—you saw me in them, how lonely and unhappy I was...” his voice trailed off. He swallowed hard, his lashes lowering as he looked down at me, kneeling nak*d before him, “I’m never letting you go, Abby Tyndale.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The rest of the night passed in bliss and we slept until the sun was high in the sky. Jack was certain of us, of me, that he didn’t push some angelic creature off a cliff. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea that I was his—body, mind and soul. We were eating take-out from the Chinese place later. I pushed around a dumpling, trying to grab it with chopsticks and failing while Jack was saying, “You’re amazing.” His tone had taken that bedroom voice of his again.
“Ah, yes. My ability to repel dumplings with a stick is quite a feat. Wait until you see me with seafood. Julia Roberts has nothing on me, well, in terms of shell fish shooting off my plate. I’m guessing her hooker character was better in bed.” I grinned at him, and finally just stabbed the dumpling with one of the chopsticks. I lifted it to my lips, but stopped when I saw Jack staring. “What?” The food hovered, as I looked at him quizzically.
“I would have never thought you were a virgin,” he blurted out.
The dumpling slid off my stick and bounced across the table. We both watched it slide into a white carton before resuming eye contact. “What?” I asked, shocked he’d say such a thing.
“Okay, so now wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but you were the one talking about hookers and slamming yourself. Abby, you’re the best I’ve ever been with.”
I laughed, pointing the empty chopstick at him, “Uh huh.” I didn’t believe him. Actually, I believed he was trying to spare me my feelings. “Tell me why that is?”
Jack leaned across the table, taking my hands, pulling me toward him. When I gazed up at him, he said, “Because you don’t hold back. You said what you meant, and moved how you felt. You have no idea how sexy that is, how much power that gives you over me. Abby, I nearly came watching you strip. When you added the paint I was frozen. The last thing I wanted to say was no. If that’s what you do when you’re a virgin, I can’t wait to see what you do later.” He grinned wickedly at me, squeezing my hand once and releasing it. Eyeing me from his seat he added, “And I know you’re sore. I promise I won’t touch you for the rest of the day.” I squirmed, wondering how he could tell. He glanced up at me, “Well, I won’t touch you there. It doesn’t mean we can’t have fun doing other things.”
My breath caught in my throat. Suddenly I wasn’t very hungry. Staring at him, I asked, “What other things?”
“Your curiosity is dangerous, Tyndale,” he replied grinning.
Tilting my head, “Your evasion was noted, Gray.”
“Eat your food, Abby. You’re going to need your strength.” He winked at me and I flushed. Heart pounding in my chest, I felt my sore girl parts perk up—ready for more Jack Gray.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The canvas from the sex painting was still wet. Jack hung it on the wall, letting it dry. Hands on his hips, he stepped back admiring it. My stomach fluttered a little when I looked at it. Okay, it fluttered a lot and made me tingle in all my girlie places. It was hot. To everyone else it looked like one of Jack’s works gone more abstract, but to us, it meant something else.
It was a beginning.
Perched on a tabletop, I sat swinging my legs and staring at Jack’s ass. I didn’t realize I was doing it until he glanced over his shoulder to ask me a question. His arms were folded against his chest as his eyes shifted, full of mischief and lust—like mine. My lips pursed when he saw me. I was going to deny it, but shrugged instead, and said “You’re easy on the eyes, Gray. What do you want me to say?”
“Did you always ogle me so openly and I never noticed?”
I laughed, hanging my head, my hair falling forward. I flipped my hair back as he walked over to me, a sexy grin on his face. “At times. It’s hard not to admire you when you’re standing so perfectly.” That thought brought a question to the front of my mind. “Is that what you meant by saying I was all shapes and lines? Shadows and light? Was that to conceal your lusting eyes from me?”
He laughed, “They weren’t concealed, and if you knew what I was thinking that night, you wouldn’t have come back.”
“Why’s that? What hideously kinky thoughts were you thinking?” His words peaked my curiosity. I slid off the table and stepped in front of him, looking into his eyes, knowing there were only a few days of this left. Only a handful of days before everyone was back at the studio.
He sighed a ragged breath, running his fingers through his hair. Damn, he was hot. Every mannerism he had made me want him more. My tongue touched my top lip as I watched him. “Abby,” he groaned, throaty and raw—the same way he said my name last night. “You’re killing me.”
I hadn’t realized what I’d done until Jack seemed to melt in front of me. He grinned, his eyes dark and needy as they slid over me. Slipping his hands around my waist, he yanked me up against him. I could feel him stiff and ready. I gasped, “Jack.” He pushed me away, as if teasing me, tempting me.
Shaking his head, he said smiling, dimples showing, “We’re going to have to make up for missing ten years of sex in a couple of days, aren’t we?” I blushed, looking up at him through lowered lashes, but I very much liked the sound of that. “Damn, Abby. I’m the luckiest man alive. Ten years of sex in two days.” His body tensed as his gaze slid over me, lingering on my br**sts, noticing my n**ples showing through my tee shirt. The bottom of my stomach fell when he looked at me like that. I was sure I was wet again.