She watched him straighten the bridles and harnesses hanging on the walls, as if he needed something to do. “You might not get your memory back, but even if we only find out who you are, it could change things. What if you’re something we didn’t expect?”
He swung around to face her. “You said you didn’t believe I was a serial killer or something.”
“I still don’t believe that. But what if you’ve got a family? You said you’re sure you don’t have a wife, but what if you’re wrong? Or what if you’re a politician or big media mogul? Or maybe you’re the king of Oompa-Loompa Land. Just knowing where you belong will change things. And you’ll have to go.”
“Oompa-Loompa Land?” He shook his head. “No way. Orange people give me the creeps. I don’t even like fake tans. I’d never be their king.”
She laughed, but sobered quickly. His humor was one of the things she’d miss after he found out who he was and left her. God, her chest hurt already.
The stray wisps of straw on the concrete floor crunched under his boots as he walked toward her. He took the mug out of her hand and set it on a shelf, and when he swung back around to her, he took her hands. She couldn’t help but notice how small her hands looked in his.
“I can’t promise that you’ll like who I was before you found me. But I can promise that my feelings for you won’t change.” He palmed her cheek, his touch tender, and in that moment, he might as well have reached inside her and stroked her heart instead of her skin. “I know we agreed on no emotional attachments, but I can’t help it; I’m falling for you, Jillian. It’s scaring the shit out of me, because it feels so damned new.” While she stared in stunned silence, he glanced up at the rafters. “It’s strange, because some things feel familiar, like sex and using a computer. And killing that demon. It’s like when you watch a movie and there’s an actor you recognize but can’t place. You know you’ve seen him before, but you can’t remember where.” He returned his gaze to her, his eyes glittering with intensity. “But what I feel for you is so different. It’s like I’ve never seen the actor before. Hell, I haven’t even heard of the damned movie.”
Every word was a prick to the heart. He was falling for her? She should be happy, because like it or not, she was falling for him, too. But this was going to end badly. She’d never been a pessimist, but she’d danced this dance before. Not with an amnesia guy, but with every other guy she’d dated.
“You can’t promise your feelings won’t change,” she rasped. “You could love someone else.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t. I know I don’t. What I feel for you is too foreign. I’d know if I’d felt it before.”
She wanted to believe him, but there just wasn’t enough for her to go on. He didn’t remember his past, so maybe he didn’t remember emotions, either.
“Jillian, if I could guarantee that my feelings wouldn’t change and that I’d stay here no matter what, would that be a good thing?”
“You can’t—” His finger came down on her mouth, shutting her up.
“Hypothetically.”
Reaching up, she wrapped her hand around his and pulled it away. “Hypothetically, yes. It would be a good thing. I’m falling for you, too.”
In a smooth surge, he backed her against a stall and kissed her. Kissed her hard. “Jillian,” he murmured against her mouth. His voice was pained, urgent, and she knew exactly how he felt.
“Shh. I don’t want to hear promises you can’t keep or hollow assurances that everything will be okay. Let’s just make the best of the time we have.” She needed a distraction. A rough, fun escape. And Reseph could give her that. “Remember what you said a few days ago, the first time we had sex? That there would be time for fucking on the hood of my truck or… other things?”
“Oh, yeah. I remember.”
“Good.” She dragged her hand down his chest to his fly, behind which a pronounced bulge already indicated that he was game. “I think it’s time.”
“Yeah?” A wicked smile ruffled his mouth as he leaned into her and put his lips to her ear. “How long has it been since you came so hot, so furious, so fucking intense, that you forgot your own name?”
Oh, God. She’d just forgotten it. “Never,” she whispered. “You?”
“I can’t remember,” he murmured huskily, “but ask me in a few minutes and I’ll have an answer.” He tugged her against him and kissed her. His lips were firm but soft as they melded with hers. She opened to him immediately, but he teased her, taking her bottom lip in his teeth in a gentle show of dominance. A shiver of pleasure skated over her skin. He was an explosive combination of playful but aggressive, tender but strong, commanding but caring… and so very, very male.
Reaching up, she cupped his jaw, savoring the feel of his warm skin under her palm as he kissed his way down her neck. He nuzzled her throat, and with a moan, she rocked her head to the side, granting him more access for that talented mouth. One of his hands remained tamely around her waist, holding her against him, but the other slid beneath her shirt. When his fingers came into contact with her bare belly, she hissed in pleasure.
“I love the sounds you make.” His voice was a smoky drawl. “I’m going to wring them from you until you’re out of breath.”
Her heart pounded so hard it hurt, as if it were trying to get to his hand, which was sliding torturously slowly up her rib cage. He nipped her shoulder blade as his fingertips brushed the underside of her breast, creating an electric sizzle that shot from his mouth to his hand. Sensation rippled through her, stealing her thoughts, her breath, the moisture in her mouth.
With another moan, she palmed his thigh, digging her fingers into his hard muscles to steady herself. There was the slightest hitch in his breath at the contact. He eased his hand up to cup her breast, and they both groaned.
“You’re so beautiful.” His voice was muffled against her shoulder. “I want to feel more of you.”
Oh, yes. If he wanted more, he could have it.
Fifteen
Jillian was a dream come true. Cliché, maybe, but clichés existed for a reason, and Jillian was a prime example. She massaged him through his pants, and he was ready for her in about two seconds flat. Hell, he was always ready for her.
Her fingers teased, and with a nimble flick of her wrist, his fly popped open and his cock was in her hand. He hissed in pleasure and then hissed in surprise when she dropped to her knees and jerked his pants down to mid-thigh. Her hands gripped his legs, which twitched under her warm palms as she massaged her way up.
“You have the most incredible birthmark here.” She pressed her lips to his inner thigh, and he sucked air through clenched teeth. “It looks just like an angel’s wing.” Her tongue smoothed over the surface of the mark, and holy hell, erotic fire shot from her mouth to his cock. Major erogenous zone.
“Can we not talk about angels while we’re—” He broke off with a strangled cry as she took him in her mouth. She stroked him with one hand and gripped his hip with the other, her nails digging into his skin.
“Damn,” he said hoarsely. “You’re serious.”
“Mmm-hmm.” The humming vibration around his shaft nearly had him coming right then and there.
He knew what she was doing, using sex to purge emotions and erase reality for a little while. That was fine with him, especially when her tongue flicked over the sensitive head as she moved her lips up and down, swallowing when he was deep.
Pleasure was a hot wave that crashed over him with every nibble, suck, and swipe of Jillian’s tongue on his cock. Needing to touch her, he drove his hands into her lush hair and watched as his shaft disappeared into her eager mouth.