“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.”