From This Day Forward (4 page)

J
ason Rhodes had never been the type of guy to romanticize a kiss. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he considered kissing strictly necessary.

He’d had
plenty
of hookups where they bypassed kissing altogether and went straight for the good stuff.

But with Leah . . .

Kissing
was
the good stuff.

Part of it, anyway. There’d be other stuff later. And that would be pretty fucking fantastic, too. But Leah had been the only woman where Jason thought that kissing
might
be enough.

Almost
.

And as he swept his tongue into her mouth and pinned her hands above her head over the door, he realized nothing had changed.

An entire
year
had passed, and yet somehow he was still hungry for this woman. For the taste of her mouth, hungry for the little humming sounds she made when he nipped at her lips.

She tasted like the Leah he remembered, and yet . . . not. There was an element to her kiss that was different from before. It nagged at the back of his mind as important somehow.

But then she tilted her hips up to his, her pelvis rocking against his cock, and his thoughts scattered.

He released her hands to plunge his fingers into all of that glorious red hair, palming her head as he pressed against her until she was molded to him. The feel of her soft curves pressed against his hardness nearly undid him.

Jason pulled his mouth away from hers in order to get at her neck, his teeth scraping at that spot below her ear that had always made her gasp.

As expected, her breath caught and she arched more fully against him, and he smiled against her skin, relishing the fact that this hadn’t changed—that the connection between them was still electric and unavoidable.

He slid his hand over her rib cage, his thumb rubbing along the underside of her breast teasingly, back and forth, slowly, without touching her where she needed.

Leah’s nails dug into his shoulders. “Damn you, Rhodes.”

“What, baby?” he asked against her neck. “What do you need? Where do you want me to touch you?”

She remained silent, as he’d known she would.

Leah had always been wonderfully, beautifully obstinate, even in bed, resulting in hotter-than-fuck power struggles.

Tonight, he wasn’t giving in. This thing between them would never work if he was always the one making the first move, and he wanted it to work.
Needed
it to.

So instead of ripping their clothes off and thrusting into her the way he wanted to, Jason continued to tease. His fingers found the tops of her breasts. The outside of her thighs. The soft curve of her lower belly.

He pulled back, wanting to see her, wanting to see his hands on her.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, watching as his hands skimmed over her sides. “So damned—”

Leah pulled his mouth down to hers with one hand as the other gripped his wrist, putting his palm over her breast. “Touch me.”

He smiled against her mouth.
There
was his girl.

He rewarded her with a sweep of his thumb over her nipple, feeling the slight roughness of her lace bra over the hard tip of her breast. She’d always loved pretty lingerie, joking that she blew most of her clothing budget on bras only to throw a five-dollar T-shirt over the top.

That was damn fine with him. She could wear a tarp for all he cared. It was worth it when he finally saw her in the naughty bra and panty sets she loved.

Undressing Leah had always been like unwrapping a beautiful gift, each revealed layer more stunning than the last until you got to the best gift of all: her bare skin.

He pulled back, his eyes locking on hers as his fingers slid down to the hem of her shirt. He lifted his eyebrows in question, and wordlessly she lifted her arms so that he could slide her sleeveless top up and off.

The second the shirt cleared her head, Jason groaned.

As expected, her breasts were covered in black lace, the pretty fabric displaying her tits to their full, creamy perfection.

Jason breathed out a reverent sigh, dipping his head forward and brushing his lips across the top slope of her breast as he gently grazed her nipples with the knuckles of two fingers. They hardened even more beneath his touch, and he reached down to adjust the cock that was straining painfully against his jeans.

He was torn between keeping both of his hands full of her versus using one of them to stroke himself while he feasted on her.

In the end, there was no question. It was her. Always her. He could get himself off anytime. And he had plenty in the last year while picturing exactly this sight:

Leah McHale all flushed and rosy and panting for him.

Jason’s tongue slipped under the edge of her bra to flick at her nipple and she cried out, her hands going to his waistband, hooking her fingers into his belt buckle and jerking him forward.

She rubbed the front of her black pants against his cock, making sexy little want noises that nearly had him coming in his pants like a teenage boy.

“Jesus,” he muttered, pulling back.

He fisted his hand in her hair, taking her mouth in a possessive kiss before he dragged her toward the bed.

Leah had always loved being handled just a little bit roughly, and he loved the way her eyes lit in arousal as he shoved her back on the bed so that she fell with a slight bounce, her fantastic breasts nearly coming free from their tiny lace confines.

Jason all but threw himself on top of her, sliding three fingers into the fabric of her bra and jerking it downward, his eyes latching on to hers before he slowly extended his tongue and ran it across her nipple in one slow, teasing swipe.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, her eyes squeezing shut. “Jason—”

His name was a plea on her lips, and he gave her what she wanted, pulling her into his mouth and sucking hard before pulling back and grazing the tip of her breast lightly with his teeth.

She bucked, her knees coming up, and he shifted between them, resting in the perfect notch of her spread legs as he pressed both hands to her shoulders, holding her still so that he could taste everything, not even bothering to remove her bra as he feasted on her.

“Nobody tastes like you,” Jason said with a groan as his tongue circled her. “Nobody’s come close—”

Jason barely had time to register what was happening until she was frantically scooting away from him.

“Whoa, hey,” he said, placing one hand on her knee to keep her from kicking him in the nuts, even as the other hand reached for hers, making a grab for her before she could slide all the way off the bed.

But she dodged his grab, clawing frantically at her bra to put it to rights as she stood and glared at him, eyes blazing. “Get out.”

Jason’s mouth dropped open. Her breasts were still damp from his mouth, his dick was still hard enough to cut glass, and she wanted him to leave?

“What the hell, Red? This hot and cold thing is new. I’ve only ever known hot.”

Her eyes narrowed even further before she pointed to the door. “Out.”

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “What just happened?”

“Nobody comes close?” she said, echoing his words back to him. “You really think that was the thing to say to me? You really think I’d want the reminder that I’m one of dozens?”

He stared at her. “What? What are you even—”

“You don’t get it!” she shouted. “I don’t want to be one of your many women. I don’t want to be with the type of man who’s comparing the taste of my breasts to all other breasts.”

Jason blinked. “Leah, that’s not—”

“Get out!” To his horror, her eyes filled with tears, and she swore softly before turning away and pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes.

He was off the bed in a heartbeat, his hand resting along her back as he tried to make her understand. “Red, you’ve got it all wrong. It wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

She pulled away. “I know you never
mean
, Jason, you just . . . are. And I don’t hate you for it—I really don’t. It’s just . . . my brain knows better. Or at least it’s going to from here on out.”

“What are you trying to say?”

She turned toward him, her eyes still shimmering, but her mouth set in a stubborn resolute line as she crossed her arms over herself. “I’m saying that I don’t want to be with someone who’s been with everyone else. Not even for a one-night fling.”

Jason’s temper snapped, quietly but thoroughly. Once again, she wasn’t going to give him a chance to explain. Once again she was running away from this
thing
between them without having all the facts.

Could he have told her the facts? Yes.

Should he have?

Absolutely. He should have chased her down, told her that she had it wrong, that he would never cheat on anyone, least of all her, but . . .

In the end, pride had won over common sense.

Back then he’d wanted so badly for her to be different. For her to be the one person in his life who hadn’t thought,
Yup, there he goes, fucking it up again
.

But in the end, she’d been like everyone else. Assuming the worst without so much as a backward glance. So he hadn’t chased her. He hadn’t insisted she listen to him. Why bother, when she’d already decided? Jason needed someone who believed in him, and he’d thought that person might just be Leah, but she’d proved him wrong.

And she’d very nearly broken him.

Nearly. But not quite. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her that close again.

He could tell her now. It was so fucking tempting to throw all of her assumptions and bullshit in her face.

But doing so would admit a hell of a lot more than he was ready to.

One did not lay his heart at a woman’s feet when she was clearly determined to stomp on it.

“Fine,” he snapped, shoving both hands through his hair in irritation. “You want to go ahead thinking of me as a manwhore, have at it. I want more than some hot-tempered redhead who thinks she knows everything about everyone.”

“I think we all know what you want more of,” she said sarcastically. “More women, more sex—”

Jason didn’t stick around to hear the rest of her rampage. He was out the door, slamming it with more force than necessary before storming into his own room.

Once there, he bent at the waist, resting both hands on his knees, taking deep breaths until the urge to punch something subsided.

God
damn
the woman. She’d always been the only one who could turn him inside out—who could hurt him with careless words.

Once the anger subsided, Jason stood, slumping back against the door in defeat. He pulled his Tic Tacs out of his pocked and popped four into his mouth.

Only then did he realize what had bothered him so much about that first kiss.

These were his first Tic Tacs since before dinner, and yet he’d tasted cinnamon when he’d kissed her.

She’d
tasted like cinnamon.

The question that Jason turned over in his mind as he tossed and turned later that night was, why?

“Y
ou know that the bride’s
blond
, not red haired, right?”

Jason very subtly shifted his camera lens away from Leah and refocused on his original target—the bride and groom. “Shut up, Heather.”

The curly-haired blonde next to him smirked.

Heather Fowler was one of the Wedding Belles planners. Or assistant planner. He’d never paid much attention to the hierarchy, other than to know that Heather was Alexis Morgan’s right-hand woman, and damn good at it.

Jason was one of the Belles’ go-to photographers, as was Leah, and after working dozens of weddings, he’d come to know the entire Belles team fairly well.

He got along equally well with Alexis, Heather, and the currently very pregnant Mel, although it was he and Heather who’d connected the most.

There was just something about all of her manic energy and take-no-bullshit candor. They’d clicked almost immediately and had been friends ever since.

Never romantic though. Not even close.

Despite what Leah thought, he was capable of spending time with a woman without nailing her.

“Uh-oh,” Heather said, the smirk heavy in her voice.

He ignored her as pulled the camera away from his eye to scroll through the viewfinder of his most recent shots, making sure they were coming out as he wanted.

“I thought you were over her,” Heather stage-whispered.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he asked. “Fussing with bows, or safety-pinning hems, or some shit?”

“Nah, the rehearsal dinner is more or less a night off,” she said, leaning in to look at the pictures he’d just taken. “You know, making sure nobody gets too drunk and gives anyone in the bridal party a black eye. That sort of thing. Hey, is that a picture of Leah I just saw?”

He pulled the camera away before her prying eyes could see too much. “Have I told you how
grateful
I am that both you and Alexis are working this wedding?”

“It’s a big wedding,” she said with a cheeky grin. “Plus, I begged her to let me tag along. I hardly have any weddings of my own yet, since I’m still a junior associate, and there’s no way I’d pass up the bragging rights to seeing the president’s daughter get hitched.”

Jason glanced across the room to where the bride was chatting happily with her girlfriends.

He and Leah had agreed in a terse exchange earlier that she’d cover the bride’s side, while he stuck mostly to the groom’s side, but Jason hadn’t been able to resist taking a few shots of his own of the bride and her father.

It wasn’t every day someone got to share oxygen with the former president, after all.

Although, surprisingly, the whole day had been a good deal less fussy than Jason had feared. Considering they were dealing with the man who’d up until recently ran the free world, the wedding festivities had been relaxed and low-key, minus the not-so-subtle Secret Service agents.

The bride seemed as sweet and refined as she’d always seemed on TV, the groom, genuinely smitten, much to the delighted ribbing of his overgrown frat boy wedding party.

Despite Leah’s accusations that he didn’t believe in happy endings, he knew one when he saw it in progress, and he had a good feeling about Brent and Kylie.

“So what’s going on with you two, anyway?” Heather chirped as Jason shifted to get a shot of the former First Lady laughing with the groom’s mother.

“What’s going on with who?” he asked.

Heather flicked his forearm. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve either had a camera glued to your face or you’ve been watching Leah all day.”

He shot her a glance and wiggled his eyebrows. “Which means you’ve been watching
me
, huh?”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Please. Alexis asked me to keep an eye on you two. Make sure you didn’t end up taking naked pictures of each other instead of focusing on the bride and groom.”

“Leah and I are professionals,” he ground out, irritated at the implication that he’d ever shirk his photography duties.

“Dang, she’s got you tangled up in all
kinds
of knots,” Heather said in awed delight.

Jason didn’t even bother to deny this. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Leah get down on one knee to get a shot of the president’s niece linking hands with the groom’s cousin as the two little girls spun in giddy circles, their laughter lighting up the room, even over the music of the Sinatra sound track.

He watched as Leah laughed with the little girls. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as Leah handed over her very heavy, very expensive camera and let the kids take a goofy selfie.

His stomach twisted. Leah was good with kids. Of course she would be. She had all sorts of goodness and patience and understanding.

Just not when it came to him.

He lifted his camera once more, trying to get in the zone. His lens landed on a cute blonde who was staring right into the camera. Her smile was slow, seductive, and painfully obvious. Jason subtly shifted, pretending he hadn’t seen her.

It wasn’t the first time women flirted with him at a wedding, and it wouldn’t be the last, but he’d never found it quite so annoying until now, when there was only one woman he wanted.

Maybe Leah was right to put up walls between them. If this was how it felt to be completely consumed with another person, he’d never survive it.

Jason slowly let himself get lost in the party, moving around the crowd, seeing what they saw, capturing what they felt. He knew Leah did the same, because the few times his camera lens caught her in the periphery, the camera was always to her face.

Only once did he find her watching him, her expression unreadable, and it did something dangerous to his chest.

She’d tasted like cinnamon.

Heather found him once more as the night was drawing to a close, a full dinner plate in hand. “Eat.”

He glanced down at the fancy plate. There was some sort of fussy piece of steak, covered in a sauce, asparagus with yellow creamy gunk on top.

He was sure it was as delicious as it was expensive, and although he appreciated when clients took care to feed their vendors, Jason wasn’t in the mood.

His eyes scanned the room for Leah, seeing her talking to Alexis on the far side, looking as tired as he felt. It was always like this after an event, but
damn
. They hadn’t even gotten to the wedding yet.

Heather sighed and set the plate of overpriced food on a nearby table. “She’s the reason you didn’t go out with Liz, huh?”

Jason tore his eyes away from Leah and looked at Heather in confusion. “Who’s Liz?”

Heather shook her head. “
Exactly
. Liz is my friend. The one who you’d be perfect for. I tried to set you guys up on a date a few months back, but you canceled last minute. Never called her back. Did I forget to tell you what an asshat move that was, by the way?”

“Shit, sorry, Heather.” Jason felt a little stab of guilt. He hadn’t been completely celibate in the year since he and Leah had gone up in flames, but he’d mostly limited his interaction with women to the one-night-stand variety, steering clear of the relationship-seeking kind.

There was only one woman with whom he wanted the title of
boyfriend
, and she didn’t seem to think he was worthy of the role.

It wasn’t the anger so much as the hurt that had Jason’s eyes scanning the room until his gaze landed on the slim blonde who’d been giving him
the look
all night.

Sure enough, she was hanging out in the corner under the pretense of rummaging through her purse, glancing over at him to see if he was going to make a move.

Early on in his career, Jason had made it a point to never sleep with any of the wedding guests. It was just bad form.

But
Leah
didn’t know that.

His hurt caused a flash of pettiness, and Jason was moving across the room toward the blonde until he could think better of it.

He stopped in front of her, extending his hand. “Hi. Jason.”

The girl was prettier than he realized, and younger. Younger than he’d like. But hey, he wasn’t
actually
planning to sleep with her. What was the harm in a casual dinner with a pretty woman?

She gave a slow, pleased smile, placing her hand in his. “Autumn.”

“Care to join me for something to eat? I didn’t have a chance to grab dinner, and I’ve heard there’s a place nearby with late-night burgers.”

Autumn blinked, clearly a little surprised that his offer had involved food instead of sex, but she recovered quickly. “Sure. I’d like that.”

He jerked his chin in the direction of the door, placing a hand on Autumn’s back as he followed her out into the warm summer night.

Jason didn’t let himself look back to see if Leah was watching.

He told himself he didn’t care.

He was a liar.