She met his gaze, those deep blue eyes glistening with tears. “I miss him,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
His heart constricted at the grief on her face. “I know, honey.” He lifted a hand to stroke the soft waves of her hair. A soothing, reassuring gesture, but to him it meant so much more. His muscles knotted with the need to cup her face between his hands and kiss her the way he’d been dying to for so long. He wanted to kiss away the sadness and the grief, replace it with the heat and tenderness burning inside him.
Careful. He knew he was walking a dangerous line. One he couldn’t cross. Not now. Not ever.
But something seemed to break inside her at his touch. Her face crumpled. She reached for him. Threw her arms around his shoulders and buried her face into his neck as she began sobbing.
Shit. Blake squeezed his eyes shut and dragged her closer. It was good she was finally letting this out, he told himself. And god-dammit, he fucking loved the way she burrowed so trustingly into his arms.
He locked her to him, trying to absorb some of her pain even as he reveled in the feel of her against him. Soft, warm, needing him. He battled the sharp spike of need he’d kept buried for so long. He held her as she cried herself out, saying nothing, letting the strength of his grip reassure her that she wasn’t alone, that he cared.
More than she’d ever realize.
At last she quieted, resting contentedly in his arms. She raised that gorgeous tearstained face to his and met his eyes. He was stunned by the female awareness that shone in her gaze. They stared at each other, the air between them crackling with a sudden sexual tension so thick he could hardly breathe. He gazed down at her, didn’t move. He didn’t trust himself to—he wanted her too much. Was he misreading this?
But when she slid her hands up to cradle his head, he was done for. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning down those few last inches and covering her trembling lips with his. Jordyn gasped and tightened her hold on his head. Kissed him back with so much hunger it left him reeling.
Heat roared through him. Even as he told himself to go slow, be gentle, the kiss turned wild and molten within the space of a few heartbeats. His tongue was in her mouth, stroking, taking, and she was right there with him. He felt her trembling in his arms, making tiny mewling sounds of pent up need. He wanted to satisfy that need so badly his hands shook. He kissed her hard and deep, tasting a hint of scotch and the salt of her tears on his tongue.
She twisted in his arms and rubbed against his body. Erotic little sounds came from her throat, as if she couldn’t get close enough and had been dying to taste him.
Blake was on the verge of losing control and he knew it.
He was seconds away from pushing her flat on her back on that leather sofa and stripping her naked just so he could stroke and taste all that soft, smooth skin. Jordyn. The woman who until a few years ago had been almost like a sister to him.
Before she’d inexplicably become so much more.
Realizing what he was doing—what he was jeopardizing—he broke the kiss. She blinked up at him in confusion, those pretty blue eyes heavy-lidded with desire, pink lips swollen and damp from his mouth.
He tore free of her arms, ignoring the way his body screamed in protest and demanded that he finish what he started. His heart pounded. Jordyn sat frozen on the couch, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Blake, what—”
“No, it’s…” My fault. Fuck. He dragged a hand over his head, feeling like the worst kind of asshole on the planet. What the hell kind of friend was he? To both her and Jamie? His best friend was dead, and he was kissing Jamie’s little sister.
He couldn’t believe he’d just done something so stupid. She was hurting, lonely, and she’d been drinking. When she’d turned to him for comfort he’d gone ahead and taken advantage of it. Oh, he understood she was more than willing to fuck him right now. But for all the wrong reasons. He had to walk away right now before he lost everything—Jordyn and her parents, as well as Jamie.
“I gotta go,” he muttered, already heading for the door.
Without looking back he shoved on his shoes, walked out the door. He left her staring after him, the memory of that wounded expression on her face eating a hole in his gut. And he couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that he’d just ruined the most precious thing in the world to him.