When I Need You, Page 30

  “Whoa.” Rowan scrambled into a sitting position. “That didn’t mean I wanted you to stop.”

  Sweet Jesus. She was killing me. I grinned at her. “I’m not stopping, sweetheart. Just leveling the playing field.” Sliding my fingers inside the elastic band of my athletic shorts, I shoved them and my underwear to my ankles and kicked them away. “Now we’re equally exposed.”

  Her wide-eyed gaze remained on my erection even when I dropped to my knees and snagged the box of condoms.

  “Holy crap, Rocket. You are packing a rocket,” she whispered.

  I ripped the condom box open—literally tore into it with enough force that the strip of condoms went airborne and landed on Rowan’s belly.

  Yeah. I was one smooth motherfucker.

  “Well, that’s handy.” Rowan tore a single package off the strip and used her teeth to open it. Then she shifted upright so we were facing each other. She curled her left hand around the back of my neck and reached between us, firmly grasping me as she rolled the condom on. “Not a level playing field, Lund. This is impressive.”

  I hissed out a breath and fastened my mouth to hers. Whatever momentum we’d lost, we regained in that explosive kiss, only pausing to rest our foreheads together and suck in a lungful of oxygen before our lips gravitated together again. Sliding, teasing, feeding the frenzy between us.

  My hands started at her hips and traveled up, spanning her belly and resting on her rib cage. Her velvety smooth skin flowed like silk beneath my fingers and she trembled from my touch. I trailed openmouthed kisses from the corner of her lips, over her jaw and down her throat, tasting the saltiness and musk of her skin.

  Every time I did something she liked, her fist tightened around me. When it became a constant squeeze and release, I had to break the connection of her hand on my dick.

  “Too much,” I panted against her throat.

  She brushed her lips over my ear to whisper, “The way you touch me . . . It makes me want every part of you—your hands, your mouth, your cock—all over me, all at once.”

  Gooseflesh broke out across my entire body as she scraped her nails up my belly and across my chest to reiterate her desire for me.

  “So touch me, Jensen. However you want. Just don’t stop this time.”

  My dick went harder yet.

  “Lie back,” I growled.

  As soon as she’d propped herself up with one arm behind her head, her hair a swath of red against the gray cushions, I rubbed my lips across her sternum, watching her eyes widen as I moved my mouth progressively southward.

  I intended to tease her. Build her up and then pull back. Use every trick in my sexual arsenal to prove my oral mastery before I sent her soaring.

  But a single whiff of the sweet cream between her thighs and I was done for.

  Done.

  For.

  Raising her up to my mouth, I tasted the soft feminine flesh that glistened just for me. I demonstrated what it meant to devour. To feast.

  Rowan gave herself over to my hunger without hesitation.

  My every lick, every suck, every bite brought forth a sexy sound from her—need, pleasure, surprise. In time I’d learn what every shudder, sigh and gasp meant. Right now, I just knew she needed more.

  It wasn’t long until her fingers went from clutching the couch cushion to gripping my hair.

  That bite of pain unleashed a primal need inside me. I was relentless in driving her to the tipping point.

  As soon as her legs started to shake and she chanted that “oh god, oh god, oh god” mantra, she blindly reached for my hand as if she needed a solid piece of me to anchor her as she lost herself in the pleasure.

  Rowan Michaels letting go might’ve been the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

  Finally the tension in her hips and thighs and belly went slack.

  I moved up her body, keeping as much of her skin in contact with mine as possible. Marveling in her softness and strength. Drawing her scent into my lungs. Swallowing down the tangy taste of her.

  Feeling the change in her from languid to expectant, I slid our joined hands above her head and locked my gaze to hers.

  I didn’t need to guide myself inside her. Our bodies shifted into perfect alignment like we’d done this a thousand times before.

  Her groan of satisfaction echoed mine when I filled her completely.

  I eased out of that sublime tightness and thrust back in. Once. Twice. Three times.

  As I kissed her, from her temple to her jaw, then dragged my lips down the cord straining in her neck, I picked up the pace, my heart pounding against hers, my skin slick with sweat, my blood pumping hot and hard enough to create a floating sensation in my head.

  She arched up and whispered, “I can’t breathe.”

  “Hold on.” I rolled us to the side and grabbed the back of her thigh, draping her leg over my hip. In this position I wasn’t crushing her, but I couldn’t drive into her as hard. So with each upward thrust, I kept constant contact where she needed it most.

  “God. That’s so good.”

  “Rowan. Baby, look at me.”

  When she tilted her head back, I took her mouth in a no-holds-barred kiss. I needed a distraction to keep me from coming within the first two minutes of getting inside her.

  Sweat dampened my hair. I rocked into her, feeling her tits bounce and slide against my chest. As hot as it was to feel her passion in the way she kissed me when we were joined like this, next time I’d bury my face in those luscious breasts as she rode me.

  Rowan dug her fingernails into my lower back and tore her mouth away from mine on a gasp. “That’s it. Like that. Just like that. Yes.”

  Good to know I wasn’t the only one with a short fuse.

  Her interior muscles tightened around me and she sank her teeth into the ball of my shoulder as she came undone for the second time.

  With her clinging to me, biting me, her climax squeezing me, I couldn’t hold back.

  Fireworks, a nuclear explosion, a tsunami . . . nothing was as powerful as this.

  The physical release unlocked something inside me. Something too overwhelming to give voice to. I pressed my mouth to the warm, sweet-smelling curve of her neck, grounding myself as the shudders racking my body slowly subsided.

  In the aftermath, Rowan’s hands caressed my back, clutched my ass, slipped between us to press her palm to my heart. She whispered, “Jensen Lund. I am so crazy for you I don’t know what to do with it.”

  I mumbled, “You definitely should keep me around while you’re figuring it out.”

  “That was a given.” She nudged my face up and peered into my eyes. “Because you just moved up to spot one point five on my list of life priorities.”

  Twenty-one

  ROWAN

  From the night Jensen and I took that leap to being lovers, our day-to-day lives had changed dramatically.

  Calder accepted us as a couple right away, even assigning Jensen his own place at our table. I attributed the ease of the transition to Jens being present in Calder’s life from the start of our friendship. Now after we ate meals together, or watched TV at Jensen’s apartment, or hung out at the pool or the playground, most nights Jensen went to bed with me. That seemed to be Calder’s only complaint: jealousy that Mommy got to have more sleepovers than he did.

  I still did most of Calder’s care on my own: bathing him, driving him places and setting up the child-care co-op with our newfound friends in building two. But some nights he asked Jensen to read to him instead of me. Some afternoons I’d find them immersed in Harry Potter or destroying the kitchen when they played Chopped.

  Calder was a rule-following kid, so discipline wasn’t an issue. Jensen agreed to tell me if Calder acted in a way that might require “clarification.” We got a huge kick out of that word—it’d become the safe word between Lucy and Jax at camp.

  While Jensen and I were very much together, the only place we were completely open about it was at Snow Village. Jensen swore his club
bing days had ended with his injury. Hanging out in a bar on a rare child-free night didn’t appeal to either of us. We weren’t hiding our relationship. We just built it in a place it could flourish, among the people who mattered to us.

  After we’d been a couple for a few weeks, we’d driven to my parents’ farm. Between the football talk, the history talk and the sampling of the hard cider until the wee small hours, Jensen and my dad became fast friends. I sensed my parents’ relief in Jensen’s dealings with Calder and his open affection for both of us. I’d had to laugh—and blush—when after too many cups of apple wine my mother asked if Jensen’s rocket rocked my world. But I’d known she’d worried about me acting too cynical about love and relationships because of my early responsibilities as a single parent. She wasn’t impressed by Jensen’s looks, charm, fame or money. Seeing me happy with him, and him happy with me—and Calder too . . . that impressed her.

  Calder and I had met both of Jensen’s brothers and their wives. Since Trinity taught at camp and Walker helped out building theater sets, Calder was comfortable with them. The fact that they had a swimming pool earned them bonus points. It’d taken him a couple of times to warm up to Brady and Lennox. Brady’s love of Harry Potter had won him over, as had Lennox’s new kitty, Chaos.

  Jensen’s sister, Annika, and her husband, Axl, were spending a month in Sweden, so they weren’t around for the family gatherings. Neither were Jensen’s parents, as they too were off traveling the world. I’d heard so much about Jensen’s mother that the woman scared me. I had no idea how she’d take the news of her baby being shacked up with a single mother and her kid.

  Friday afternoon I arrived at camp fifteen minutes before class ended. I hadn’t seen Jensen’s car outside, but I stopped into the office anyway.

  Astrid was at her desk, conversing with a blond woman with her back to me.

  Not wanting to interrupt, I started to back away.

  But Astrid saw me and said, “Rowan. Wait.”

  I froze in the doorway when the blond woman turned around and I realized she was Jensen’s mother.

  Same blue eyes. Same blond hair. Same stunning bone structure.

  “Mrs. Lund has been waiting for you,” Astrid said.

  Oh shit.

  She unfolded from the chair, as graceful as a cat.

  Her clothes whispered money as she started toward me. She wore a sleeveless silk shell the color of ripe peaches, the front embellished with beads and rhinestones. A sheer chiffon gold-toned blouse covered her arms and skimmed her hips, drawing attention to her trim waist. A band of satin hugged her hips, the shimmery mint-green fabric flowing into palazzo pants that ended above her ankles. Gold leather gladiator sandals completed the ensemble, making her look every inch the imperial Valkyrie—dressed like a goddess but the fancy wrapping didn’t mask the warrior beneath.

  Her smirk—identical to Jensen’s—indicated her awareness of the imposing image she presented. Gold bangles rattled on her wrist as she offered me her hand. “I am Selka Lund. Jensen’s mother.”

  I took her hand. “I’m Rowan Michaels. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Lund.”

  “Come. Let’s walk.”

  And I found myself being ushered out of the office, the Valkyrie still gripping my hand as she smoothly linked her arm through mine and bent me to her will.

  Of course no one was in the hallway as she herded me out the side door to the playground.

  Jensen had installed a picnic table so the staff could sit in the shade during lunch and keep an eye on the playground.

  She sat on the bench and patted the spot next to her. “Sit. We shall chat.”

  “I’ll stand, thanks.”

  She lifted one dark blond brow. “You are feisty? Or just contrary?”

  “Both. It’s harder for you to put me in a headlock if I’m standing across from you.”

  “Headlock.” Her lip curled slightly. “I have no UPC moves.”

  UPC? What the hell? “You mean . . . UFC?”

  “Yah. Whatever. I am harmless.”

  I laughed. “I doubt that.”

  “My niece Dallas tells good things of you.”

  “You came to judge me for yourself?”

  She shrugged a slim shoulder. “I don’t trust her aura voodoo stuff.”

  Did she mean woo-woo stuff? I’d corrected her once already, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “What do you think of this camp Jensen created?”

  “I’m thrilled my son gets to attend, and I’m grateful to LCCO for stepping in and making the camp even better than it was before.”

  “All Jensen’s ideas. He is smart. Big brain in that big body.”

  I was not about to discuss Jensen’s amazing body that I knew every inch of with his mother. “But LCCO implemented the ideas. As you know, Jensen is uncomfortable taking full credit.”

  “And you know my son so well? After how long? Two and one half months?”

  There it was. “I’m guessing you’re here to ‘chat’ about my relationship with him.”

  “You are friends, yes?”

  “We were friends. Now we’re more than friends.”

  She tilted her head. “My boy . . . first tells me months ago he only wants friends with you. You changed his mind?”

  “No. He changed mine. But we wouldn’t be where we are now if we hadn’t been friends first.” I exhaled a nervous breath. “The truth is, Mrs. Lund, I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or a relationship. For the past six years I’ve lived a two-dimensional life. There’s my son and my work. At the end of the day, if I tuck my child in bed and he has a smile on his face, then it’s been a good day. I haven’t looked beyond having that because it’s been enough.” I paused. “Then I met Jensen. He showed me there’s more to me, to the life I—we—could have with him, while respecting the life I already have. So my two-dimensional world is now 3D.”

  “He gives that to you. But what do you give to him?”

  Wow. Mama Lund played hardball. “I ask myself the same thing. What does he see in me? He’s sweet and thoughtful. He’s funny. But he’s also bossy and used to getting his way. He’s so damn . . . tenacious. He had so much patience with me when I hesitated for us to become more than friends. He claims he knew it—I’d—be worth the wait. As a single mother, I’m overly cautious when it comes to bringing someone new into our lives. Because mine is not the only heart that gets broken if things end badly. My son’s would too.” I locked my gaze to hers. “Which is why Jensen is the first man I’ve welcomed into our family and our hearts.”

  She studied me but said nothing.

  That kept me talking. “I don’t blame you for questioning my motives. I’d do the same thing in your position. I don’t know what the future holds for Jensen and me. But I do know that I’ll fight to have a future with him because he’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met. I only hope I’m doing as great a job raising my son as you’ve done raising yours.”

  She slowly stood.

  It felt like an eternity before she spoke. “You give him that.”

  “What?”

  “Acceptance. That he’s more than athlete. More than rich, bored playboy. More than man of looks, charm and muscles. You show him his true worth. A man who can love without limits in ways that even he didn’t know he was capable of.”

  Tears pooled in my eyes. “You really think so?”

  “I’m his mother. I know so. You see inside to his heart and soul. Not just outer trippings.”

  I snickered. “You mean the outer trappings?”

  “Yah, that.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Lund.”

  “Thank you for putting happy sparkle in my son’s eyes. Now we hug it out.”