Crashed Out Page 15

  Jasmine’s legs turned to liquid, making her slip and impale herself more fully on Sarge’s length. Broken Spanish fell from her mouth. She tried once more unsuccessfully to climb Sarge’s body, but he slapped her bottom for making the effort.

  “Time to return the favor, Jasmine.” He angled his upper half away, his heated gaze tracking down to where their bodies connected. “Stroke yourself off to me now. While I watch.” Another rough spank of her backside, the sound so delicious they both had to close their eyes. “I won’t move. But you better. Starting now. Now, Jasmine.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sarge felt control slipping through his fingers. Jasmine didn’t deserve to be punished for his obsession. Didn’t deserve to be denied the swiftest route to climax. But frustration had built inside him, snowballing from the time they’d walked into the Third Shift. How could he act normal, carry on conversations, when his hands were shaking with the need to be on Jasmine? Not just so he could hold her down and give pleasure. No. He’d wanted to walk in holding her hand. Wanted to look every man in the eye and let them know their chances with Jasmine had been knocked down to zero percent.

  Being denied that right had started the bomb ticking in his stomach. But hearing the flippant way she dismissed their relationship had caused the explosion. There was a lurking sense of dread, too, but it felt too good being angry, so he ignored the warning voice calling for him to slow down. Telling him he couldn’t allow shrapnel from the bomb blast to ruin the progress he’d made. Listening meant stopping, though, and it felt too good giving Jasmine a taste of what he’d endured.

  “Please,” she sobbed, pushing up on her toes. “I can’t get high enough.”

  As far as Sarge was concerned, she was doing goddamn perfect. His cock was lodged in tightness; Jasmine was making these sexy whining noises every time he disallowed her legs from gaining leverage around his hips. Her fingernails were digging into his shoulders, but every time she tried to pull herself up, Sarge shook her grip loose. His light hold on her bottom kept her from falling, but it wasn’t enough to seat her at a satisfying angle. And God help him, watching her struggle to get on top of his dick had him turned on to the point of pain. Good pain, though. Pain that distracted him from the one she’d created in his chest.

  “Come on, baby.” Sarge bent his knees just long enough for Jasmine to ride him hard for a few seconds, before straightening again, his movement dragging her back onto tiptoes. “It feels good when I’m deep, doesn’t it? When you’re stretching to get all of me in?”

  “Yes,” Jasmine moaned. “Please. I need more.”

  “You need more? Work for it. I can feel your clit…all wet and swollen. Rub her on me. Let her feel my tip.” Sarge gave a shallow thrust of his hips. “You’ve made my cock hard for years, now you’re going to fuck yourself on it, Jasmine. When it starts to hurt, think of me waiting until everyone was asleep on the tour bus before jerking off to a memory. Stroking so hard I couldn’t breathe, thinking of that peek I got of your pussy. That’s what hurt looks like. When you can only get off on something you’ve never had.”

  Sarge bit back a roar when Jasmine’s fingers dug into the flesh of his ass, yanking him forward as she rolled her hips. The move inched him further into her snug pussy, while still keeping him only partially sheathed. They were locked in the dirtiest dance of all time, Jasmine working her clit against the head of his dick, her slender thighs sliding up and down his hairy, more muscular ones. “Yes, yes, yes…”

  Fuck. He was losing his own battle now. Watching, hearing, feeling Jasmine’s frantic use of his erection to masturbate herself was the hottest sight Sarge had witnessed in his life. Every few seconds, she managed to push high enough on her toes to take another inch of him. But each time, her thighs immediately shot up to get more and he’d block their progress with resolute hands. Then…Lord. She started sinking her teeth into his shoulders and chest for denying her. Started pouting in a way that made him feel like a dirty man doing bad things, making him even harder. Making his balls draw high and heavy. She started bucking like an unbroken pony, forehead digging into his chest as she moaned.

  The slick slide of her pussy up and down the top third of his cock, her desperate clawing at his ass—the way she jerked him forward—grew to be too much. Jasmine might have put him through hell—most of the time without realizing it—but denying the down and dirty fucking they both required was punishing him in the process. Just a little longer…just a little so he wouldn’t forget how gorgeous she looked, forget how bad she wanted him tonight.

  And then she sobbed. A shuddering sound full of misery, and his heart rebelled, sinking straight down to his stomach. His hands sank into her hair, smoothing the strands and tilting her head back. When Sarge glimpsed her face, he stopped breathing. If he could see through Jasmine’s eyes at that moment, he knew their surroundings would be blurry. She seemed unable to focus, her head falling back as if unhinged from her neck. There was a row of teeth marks on her bottom lip that appeared on the verge of bleeding. And the pain in her eyes…pain he’d caused. No no no.

  “Please,” she murmured. “I can’t…I need—”

  Sarge cut her off with his mouth, his own focus wavering at the taste of her. God. Had it been years or minutes since he kissed her? Getting enough wasn’t a possibility. Never. Not with his mouth or his body. Groaning at the way her pussy flexed around him as their mouths wrestled for a good taste, Sarge gripped Jasmine beneath the knees and spread her legs, lifting and propping them on his hips.

  Sinking down onto him—finally—she screamed into his mouth.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you hurt. Going to fuck it better, baby. Going to pump until you come.” He walked them backward so he could reach past her hip, propping one hand on the metal buffet, supporting her ass with the other. Already she was starting to ride his cock, clinging to his upper body while grinding down on him like a goddess. “Give me a twist on the way back up—ahhh fuck. That’s it, you tight little thing. Working my dick like a goddamn stripper pole, aren’t you? You have any idea how hard I’m going to come?”

  Her breath released in a hot gust at his ear. “Me first.”

  Sarge’s laugh transformed into a deep grunt as her pace changed, grew more erratic. Jasmine’s thighs were spread so wide, she was doing the splits on his lap, that fine-as-hell backside undulating on his pressing forearm. Sarge matched her fevered pace, driving himself up and into her squeezing heat, his thrusts so savage he worried he might hurt her. But she only bit his neck and whimpered for more. Not enough, though. It wasn’t enough. He needed her secured somewhere so he could slam into her willing pussy and forget his own fucking name.

  As if she could read his mind, she gripped his hair, leaned back and moaned. “Yes. Harder. More.”

  “Never stop saying that to me.” Sarge pinned Jasmine’s ass to the metal buffet’s edge and hooked both arms beneath her knees. He took a moment to savor how she looked, breathless and begging for his assault, before ramming home. Even as she gasped his name, her body remained stationary, finally allowing his cock deep as possible. “Feel how I belong here, baby? Feel how we fit together?” Sarge rolled his hips back and rocked forward, pushing, pushing until his balls strained at her entrance. “It’s never felt right before now—and you know it. No way this is wrong. No way I wasn’t meant to own this part of you. Every fucking part.”

  “Yes.” Jasmine breathed the word, head falling back as Sarge started to thrust. He jarred her body with each collision of their bodies, bouncing her tits inside her shirt. “Oh my God. So good, so good, so good.”

  Sarge’s spine began to tingle, growing tight at the base. He gave an irritated headshake, pissed that his need for Jasmine continued to end their encounters too soon, although he suspected any amount of time would be too soon with her. Trying to conjure a distasteful image that might delay his oncoming climax didn’t work, either. There was nothing but Jasmine in his universe. Nothing.

  Craving
her gorgeous brown eyes on him, needing to go over the edge together, Sarge leaned in and kissed her mouth. He drew back as the kiss’s fervor increased, bringing her with him, before pulling away. Holding her attention, Sarge propped her right leg over his shoulder to free his hand. Then he licked his thumb and stroked it over her clit, holding her steady when she jerked.

  “Ah God, Jasmine. You look so good with my cock sliding in and out between those legs. You know your knees shake every time I hit your limit?” He thumbed her clit, sliding back and forth over the tight nub, his hips starting to piston out of pure necessity. “That’s right. Every time I find the back of your pussy, you vibrate like I hit a button.”

  “Again, again.” On cue, a shiver ran through her limbs. “So close.”

  “Me, too. Fuck. Me, too.” Jasmine flung her other leg over Sarge’s shoulder, leaving both feet hovering, the added depth tearing a growl from his lips. “Fuck, that’s tight, baby. So tight for me.” This was it. He couldn’t hold back. Pain between his legs. A relentless, driving, throbbing ache. “Tell me your fucking legs are up in the air because you want my come. Pout for it. Let me see that little pout.”

  The excitement in her eyes was almost enough to knock Sarge into oblivion, but then she frowned, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, her tits still bouncing from the force his drives. “Please, please, Sarge. Ay que rico. I want it inside m-me.”

  She climaxed on the final word and Sarge sprinted after, their wet, spasming flesh slapping together as strangled moans rent the air. Oxygen eluded him…he couldn’t pull enough into his lungs. A series of images flashed on the backs of his eyelids. The first time he’d met Jasmine in his living room and spent the night wondering about her. Jasmine laughing as she jumped off the community pool diving board. Jasmine singing beside him at the mall, her voice clear and rich. She was it for him. Always had been. His head buzzed and spun with urgency. On the heels of an orgasm that had stripped the remains of his filter, Sarge could process only one fact. If he didn’t keep her, he’d never be happy a day in his life. Not now. Not after knowing and loving her at this stage of his life. Solidifying what he’d always known.

  “I love you, Jasmine.” His body deflated against her as the words were released. Relief. So much relief at finally saying them. Getting them out of his chest where they’d been held prisoner for so long. They meant more now, though. This wasn’t a crush or an infatuation—every minute in her company confirmed it. He’d loved Jasmine then and he loved her more now. “I’ve always, always loved you. I’m not going anywhere, do you understand me? I’m staying here with you.”

  Jasmine’s first reaction was joy. A rush of happiness so strong, she could never harness it or make it manageable. It was a fist around her heart, pumping the blood without her assistance. Taking the responsibility of staying alive away from her. When a man like Sarge loved you with such ferocity, surely that love could sustain you on its own.

  But she came down hard. She crashed to earth with broken bones, wondering why her parachute hadn’t opened and softened the fall. I’ve always, always loved you.

  How could she want that love and feel the unshakable need to run away at the same time? It was like walking in on the third act of a play and trying to discern each player’s motivation, except there was only one player and his arms were banded around her so tight, she thought he might be trying to meld them together. A significant part of her wanted that joining to take place, but another more prominent part was scared to death. She’d allowed him to overwhelm her with every word, every touch. Now it was time to remove the blinders. And with that removal, every insecurity she’d slowly managed to suppress throughout the last few days rained down on her head.

  Sarge couldn’t want this woman she’d become, whose idea of a Friday night was warm beer in a shitty bar, fingernails still sooty from her factory job. This fantasy relationship would be over as soon as he realized he’d saddled himself with a never-was. Because Sarge Purcell, rock star, was the exact opposite. He’d made it.

  It was up to Jasmine to make sure he didn’t make this mistake. She…she would be the mistake. She couldn’t compete with the bright lights and adoration he’d grown accustomed to since getting free of Hook.

  Jasmine dug her fingernails into her palm, pressing until pain bloomed behind her eyes. “What do you mean you’re staying?”

  Sarge’s head came up, wariness deepening the blue of his eyes at her tone of voice. God, he was beautiful, his dark hair a wreck, mouth red and shiny from kissing. “I mean I’m staying in Hook. I won’t leave you. I can’t.”

  His statements were little iron hooks digging into her organs. “Don’t make promises in the heat of the moment. You’re too good a person not to keep them.”

  “I don’t even know what to say to that.” A line formed between his eyebrows. “What about the part when I told you I love you, Jas? Let me know if you’re planning on ignoring it, so I can say the words again. And again. Until you can’t.”

  He wasn’t going to make this easy. Had there been any doubt of that? Since he’d arrived, he’d come at her like a freight train, giving her no escape paths or places to burrow. “I heard you. I also heard you say always.”

  “That’s right.”

  Jasmine expelled a quick breath, immediately wanting to draw it back into her lungs. She couldn’t spare any oxygen when Sarge was sucking it all up. “You’ve been gone for four years. I’m not the same girl you think you love.”

  “Bullshit. You are that girl. Just like there’s still some of the old Sarge still trapped inside me. We don’t get away from our pasts, and if I’ve learned one damn thing, it’s that we shouldn’t always try. Not when they’re the only thing that ever made you feel right.”

  “No!” The word emerged as a shout, laced with panic. Everything he said was designed to pull her under the surface, but she needed to kick for them both. Sarge was too young, too good, too everything to realize he was trying to doom himself. “I can’t live up to the idea you have of me. I’m sorry, but you want something I can’t give.”

  His hands slid down her arms and crashed onto the metal buffet. “Dammit, Jasmine. You’re not giving either of us enough credit. You are that girl I loved. But you’re also this woman I love, and I want her, too. This woman who doesn’t blink at a bar fight. This woman whose voice got even more beautiful than the one I hear in my dreams. This woman I’m looking at right now. I need her.”

  Jasmine respected him all the more for making the point, but his astuteness did nothing to aid her cause. She couldn’t allow his convenient logic to penetrate. There would be other logic later. Different points. But one truth wouldn’t change—she didn’t belong with him. “You should have told me from the beginning how you felt. This isn’t fair.” Sarge held fast when she tried to slide off the buffet. “You let me think this was casual, but it wasn’t. Not for you.”

  “You’re right.” His thumb brushed over her knee. “You’re right about that. I should have been honest. I can’t find it in me to be sorry, though, Jasmine. Not when I know you feel something. Not when I know staying is the right thing.”

  Staying. The right thing. That’s what it all came down to. Sarge’s heart had always been on display, so apparent in everything he did. She would be no different. A responsibility he smiled through. People would laugh at their age difference, call him a fool for giving up the musician lifestyle to be with a woman seven years his senior. Eventually he would listen to the naysayers. No matter how well he hid his resentment, it would be there. Over turning down the contract, tossing away his chance at even greater success. God, it would kill her knowing she’d held him back. Forced him to squander his potential. The way she’d done.

  “I’m sorry, I…” The words got lodged in her throat. He wouldn’t listen to reason, so she had to be firm. Harsh. Already what came next haunted her, even with their bodies still joined. Swallowing the broken sound shivering up her throat, Jasmine wrestled with his grip until she could bypass Sarg
e, stooping down to pick up her jeans. “I’m sorry, I’m bowing out. I never would have let this happen if I thought you would want a relationship out of it.”

  When Jasmine straightened, Sarge was right behind her. “You don’t think I see what you’re doing?” He dragged her back against his chest, mouth pressed to her ear. “The man who loves you isn’t afraid of a fight. Just tell me what I’m up against so I can knock it the fuck down.”

  It took a strength of will she’d never experienced to remain upright. To resist turning in Sarge’s arms and confessing her doubts. Laying them on his doorstep and seeing what he could do with them. As if she didn’t know. He would obliterate them somehow. For the moment. But they would grow back stronger and more insistent once time had a chance to pass. Once the outside world began to intrude. “Let me go.”

  “Never.”

  She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob, then pulled away with one remaining ounce of resolve. “I didn’t mean for it to end like this. I would never intentionally hurt you…or River.”

  He stabbed the air with a finger. “We’re the only two people involved here.”

  “That’s not always how things work.” When Jasmine finished pulling on her jeans and boots, it took her a minute to face Sarge. His face was grim, hands pushed into his pants pockets. Still as stone. Maybe she’d finally gotten through? Why did that possibility make her want to die? “I’ll go out through the bar…there are probably a couple of cabs waiting by now. Do you mind going out the back?”