Black Hearted: Chapter 42

Jack skimmed a finger along Solana's hip while watching her sleep. She stirred, her bottom brushing against Little Jack, bringing him back to life. Half of him yearned to wake her, see those hazel eyes flare again like they had when he'd been deep inside her. The other half couldn't find the will to disturb her peaceful rest.

This was new. In the past, when his body wanted relief, he took it. For Jack, sex equalled physical pleasure, his pleasure. The feel of a woman's hand on his cock, her tongue in his mouth, her body wrapped around him. His sole purpose was the journey to his sweet release, which erupted when he was fully satisfied.

If his partner achieved nirvana as well, well good for them. It really wasn't his concern. Most women couldn't keep up with him, tiring before he'd had his fill. In his bed, sleep was not a priority. Well, in his guest bedroom, at least. He'd never had sex in this bed.

Solana's smooth skin glowed in the dim light filtering in through the windows. Through the glass, the city sat quiet at this hour, the red glare of brake lights sparkling like rubies in the night. Mesmerized by the shallow rise and fall of her chest, Jack studied every curve and dip, unwilling to miss a moment. Palm on her waist, he couldn't stop touching her either. Perhaps trying to prove over and over that she was real. That this wasn't an alcohol infused illusion.

The spicey orange scent he now associated with her lingered in the air and the knowledge his sheets were covered in the aroma made his pulse quicken. She'd invaded his inner sanctum, and he wouldn't have it any other way. In fact, he'd prefer if she never left.

His hand crept along her stomach and Jack obsessed over where to go next. North to cup her left breast, marvel at how well the delicate skin felt in his hand. Or south, to the warmth between her legs.

"If you keep doing that, there will be a price to pay." The gravelly satisfaction tinged with her teasing tone made Jack's breath hitch.

He nibbled on her ear. "Promise."

Her hand captured his and together she guided him south, settling the tips of his fingers at her apex. "Let's sample the goods first."

No need to ask him twice. Beneath his touch, she awoke, writhing and twisting with each stroke.

Awe flooded the dark recess in his chest with Solana's every gasp, every whisper of his name. Her sounds only for him. For his pleasure. Because gratifying her was incredibly satisfying. To him. More. Her reaction to his touch was intoxicating.

But he wasn't a saint. Far from it. With each beat of his heart, blood pumped toward Little Jack, and he demanded in on the action.

"You're too good to be true." Ice slid along Jack's spine. What was it about this woman that caused him to vocalize his inner thoughts? Never in his life had he been a sharer, never mind an over sharer. It wasn't good for business. But with Solana, the barrier between his mind and his tongue melted.

He sounded like one of those soppy romantic movies his ex-wife used to watch all the time. The ones with the bad boy who wants to change because he met the right woman, begs her to forgive him for his past sins, promises to give up his evil ways. The drivel irked him.

Solana panted. "This... is too good... to... to be true." She gripped his hip and shuttered. Wet warmth flowed between his fingers.

"Believe it, Sweetheart." If only he could keep up the illusion.

There was more than one reason Jack's relationships didn't last longer than a few dates at most. Boredom worked both ways. He couldn't give anyone the opportunity to discover there was nothing beyond the image of Jack Blackhorne, no substance beneath the handsome face, designer clothes and high society events. He didn't want to think about how long he'd be able to keep Solana interested.

Determined to sink into her and never surface, he nestled Little Jack in her warm folds.

"Wait." He froze. "Condom."

He swore. He wanted nothing between him and her. Nothing. Not even the slimmest sheath of rubber. "Wolfe makes me take a physical once a month."

The hand that had been playing with the hair at the nape of his neck halted. "Okay."

"Including tests for STDs."

"Because of all the women you sleep with."

Jack did not want to talk about those useless encounters here. Or ever. "Because he's paranoid. I'll get sick. My point is—" Little Jack throbbed with impatience and he had to concentrate "—I'm clean. Got tested after I came back from Vegas."

Solana cocked an eyebrow. "And you haven't slept with anyone since?"

Jack met her questioning stare. "No one but you."

Her mouth fell open, and Jack had to take it, suck the shock out of her expression. When he came up for air, he asked. "What about you?"

He watched her throat bob. "More than a year since I've—" she glanced down at their pressed together chests "—until the dressing room." Little Jack loved this answer. She was all his. "But I stayed on the pill."

Her statement shocked and delighted him. "Does that mean..."

"Yes, Jack. It means you can stop wasting time and—"

His first thrust cut off her words, the second elicited a moan. Was it possible it was better this round? The dressing room had been too fast. An hour ago, he'd devoured her. Or had she devoured him? There was so much back and forth he lost track. He knew they'd both quickly reached nirvana.

For the first time in his life, he didn't want to race to the climax, the oblivion. The sensation of moving with her, being with her, made him slow his tempo, relishing each push and pull. He learned what made her moan, what made her whimper. How she cried his name when he tilted to the left. She was the teacher and him the attentive student.

Jack yearned to know all of Solana. He wanted to see her come undone. He wanted to be the one to undo her. To see the lava churn in her eyes because of him.

Those eyes were hidden from him, her face turned away. "Look at me," he ordered.

She shook her head.

Tearing his hand from her perfect breast, he gently nudged her towards him. "Look at me, please." Apparently, he wasn't beyond begging.

Hazel eyes fluttered open and locked on to his. What worlds, what possibilities he saw there. What was happening?

A sensation he hadn't felt for years, not since his first lonely nights in boarding school, tightened his chest, made it hard to breathe. He recognized the feeling. Jack Blackhorne was scared. Afraid of what this woman made him feel. Afraid to stop in case he never felt this way again. Afraid to go on because he had never felt this way before.

Now he understood why Ximena called Solana her heart and soul. As she whispered his name like a magic spell, Jack handed his heart and soul over to her, to hold, to protect, to love.

Then the most extraordinary thing happened.

Deep inside him, the rusty lock he'd clad around his heart creaked. The bolt sealed shut years ago as he lay crying in his bed at boarding school, missing Mrs. Winston, missing her love. He'd clung to her final embrace before James tore him from her loving arms and forced him into the back of the limo. The only way to survive the loss, the pain, was to shut it up, cut it off, seal it away.

Here, with Solana, the lock cracked, broke open and sensations he'd resisted for a decade flooded forth.

Jack watched in awe as the flames in her eyes blazed with a passion he couldn't fathom anyone was capable of, a passion all for him. She rippled around him, a torrent of warmth massaging him. She came undone because of him, with him.

Long, hard, white-hot fissures shot through his body, every cell alight with pleasure, with connection.

His body trembled, and he was sure his heart would explode. What was that? Everything truth he held onto shifted, shattered, and reformed into a new reality. This is what those silly books meant when they described sex as earth shattering. Where had this sensation come from? How could he make it happen again?

Solana stroked his back, telling him to listen to her voice. To breathe. He did as she instructed. Because he was eager to please her, but because he trusted her.

How had he lived before her? The truth dawned on him as his body began to relax. He hadn't lived. He had only existed.

But he was alive now. Every cell vibrating in kind with the spectacular woman stroking his neck. He wanted to experience everything with her. Taste caviar with her. Fly to Rome with her. Wander museums with her. Spend the weekend in bed with her. Grow old with her.

"Hey." Solana nibbled on his ear. "Are you still with me?"

Jack nodded, not trusting himself to not say something stupid.

"Good. I thought I was going to lose you for a moment there." That would never happen. As sure as he was of Wolfe's loyalty or Ethan's friendship.

But her voice had a teasing tone to her voice. Was she trying to lighten the mood? Did she not feel this... connection?

Jack had to know. Leaning forward, he took her mouth with his, pouring what he couldn't articulate in words into a kiss.

She stiffened, perhaps at the ferociousness of his action. Just when his heart threatened to split into a million little pieces at her indifference, she matched his passion. Her fingers dove into his hair, her body arching to meet his again.

A lack of oxygen forced Jack to end the kiss, but he couldn't move far, pressing her head against his chest as he rolled them over in the bed. She clung to him, pressing kisses over his heart, sending sparks of pleasure across his skin. Desperate for more of the sensation, he dipped his head and found her mouth again. Honey and spice greeted him, open and eager lips in response. Jack closed his eyes and drank in the freedom, the satisfaction flooding every cell of his body.

Not the freedom of oblivion as he'd experienced with other partners, fleeting escapades that exhausted the body but left his soul untouched. With Solana, it was the liberation of connecting with another human being on a level like no other. She held his soul in her hands and nourished it. Not here because of his wealth or status, but for him. Just Jack, the man.

Jack's heart couldn't hold back. "You are my Sol."

Hey D L here. I know, cheesy, wheezy, but when I was looking for a name for the woman that would steal Jack's heart I searched far and wide for on that held meaning. If you've read Ruby Red, you probably thought Jack was pretty soulless. I was looking for names that were the opposite of Black. Solana is Spanish for sunshine. Perfect. Then as I was writing the first few chapters the song heart and soul came into my mind. And that's when I knew Jack's nickname for Solana (besides Sweetheart) would by Sol. Because she is his missing soul. Or so he thinks.

But like me, do you think maybe Jack isn't the devil others (and himself) believe he is?