Chapter 13: Nobody Will Believe You

Jasper had signed for the envelope in his jeans and nothing else.

He read the card twice and laid it face down on the workbench.

"It's bait," he said.

"Everything she does is bait." I was still in his sweater, barefoot on the cold concrete. "I'm going to her place today."

"No."

"She can't have you within five hundred feet. She can have me."

"She'll eat you alive, Mireille."

"She's had a week to try."

He crossed his arms, and I looked at the scar along his ribs and lost my train of thought.

He saw me lose it.

"You said nothing happens while I'm somebody's husband," he said. "Six days ago. In this room."

"I amended it."

"When?"

"Last night. On that couch. Twice."

His jaw worked, and then he laughed, a short helpless sound.

I pulled his head down by the beard and kissed him.

He backed me into the workbench.

The edge hit the back of my thighs, and he lifted me onto it without breaking the kiss.

Tools rattled and a wrench rolled off onto the floor.

"You'll get oil on you," he said against my throat.

"I don't care."

His hands pushed the sweater up and his mouth followed it, over my stomach, my ribs, the soft underside of my breast.

I braced my palms behind me and let my head fall back.

"Jasper."

"I'm here."

He opened my thighs wider and put his mouth on my wet pussy, and I swore at the ceiling.

He was slow about it on purpose.

His tongue found my clit, the one place that made my whole body jerk, and stayed there, steady.

His hands held my hips down on the wood.

I came against his mouth with my heel hooked over his shoulder.

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