but Jennifer couldn’t deny that after spending only one afternoon in Rourke’s company, she was dangerously close to falling for the man. It would be so easy. No, it was better this way. Rourke would go back to his life in the Navy. Jennifer would lay low and continue to look for a way out of the mess her life had become.
She made her way to the back of the sanctuary and down the hall to the stairs and descended to the kitchen. Jennifer crossed the space between the swinging door and the stove that made food for so many needy people. The day replayed in her mind, and tears filled her eyes. She would never enter that kitchen again and not remember Rourke. He was a big, tough man on the outside. That exterior of steel was his Superman shield. He was a military man, and she supposed as a Navy SEAL, he’d seen many things that would necessitate the building of such a tough façade.
But when he was alone with Luc and Dolce, she’d seen him loosen. Later when he was relaxed at the Davis’ home, he’d softened even more. Finally, when it was just the two of them, Rourke had become as open and warm as anyone she’d ever known. He was like an entirely different person. Jennifer was honored to have been one of the few people to see him so unguarded when she was sure Rourke was always on guard.
Rourke had held her like something precious at first. He’d treated her like glass that might break in his huge callous roughened hands. He made Jennifer feel sexy and desirable when his eyes glazed over, and grunts were the only verbalizations he was capable of voicing.
Once Rourke got past the surprise of having a woman beg for sex –her cheeks blazed with heat at that memory- those gentle hands had turned demanding. Holy hell, he’d damn near screwed her to the wall. It was a good thing Jennifer had been so turned on. The slickness of her pussy and some deep breathing were necessary for her to accommodate Rourke’s proportions. Maybe the myth about the size of a man’s hands and feet wasn’t a myth after all.
More than the sheer pleasure Rourke had given her, Jennifer would never forget holding his strong face in her hands and looking into his intense eyes as they both climaxed. The wonder she was feeling had been mirrored there in Rourke’s eyes. It was nearly perfect. Only almost perfect, because Jennifer already knew she’d have to escape before he could see how much he could hurt her. She had to hide so the fear of him being hurt more than just emotionally because of her became a reality.
Pastor Davis understood her concern. He loved Rourke like a son, so he’d agreed to keep her secret, but he hadn’t liked it at all. The pastor believed Rourke could help her far more than he could by giving her a place to hide, but Jennifer refused to give her evil ex the chance to touch a hair on Rourke’s perfect blond head, should Evan catch up with her before she found a means of escape from Vegas. That was a real possibility. She wasn’t worth Rourke’s life. It was better that she remain a pleasant memory for him. She was just a girl he met when he was home on leave, nothing more.
Jennifer pushed open the storeroom door and entered on aching feet. She had to move a few of the boxes Rourke had carried down the stairs to get to her destination. The rusty hinges creaked when Jennifer opened the door to her secret home. Rourke had come close to her hideaway. The fact that he’d stuck around so long after the others left was the only reason she hadn’t retreated to her cozy little hole in the wall sooner. She didn’t want anyone to know she was actually living in the church basement. If you could call hiding and biding your time living.
Her small room had a light, a single bed, and a shelf. Her few items of clothing hung from a bar affixed to the bottom of the shelf. Mrs. Davis had been bringing her novels to read since there wasn’t even a television. The books lined the shelf. Jennifer had read a few of them twice
She made her way to the back of the sanctuary and down the hall to the stairs and descended to the kitchen. Jennifer crossed the space between the swinging door and the stove that made food for so many needy people. The day replayed in her mind, and tears filled her eyes. She would never enter that kitchen again and not remember Rourke. He was a big, tough man on the outside. That exterior of steel was his Superman shield. He was a military man, and she supposed as a Navy SEAL, he’d seen many things that would necessitate the building of such a tough façade.
But when he was alone with Luc and Dolce, she’d seen him loosen. Later when he was relaxed at the Davis’ home, he’d softened even more. Finally, when it was just the two of them, Rourke had become as open and warm as anyone she’d ever known. He was like an entirely different person. Jennifer was honored to have been one of the few people to see him so unguarded when she was sure Rourke was always on guard.
Rourke had held her like something precious at first. He’d treated her like glass that might break in his huge callous roughened hands. He made Jennifer feel sexy and desirable when his eyes glazed over, and grunts were the only verbalizations he was capable of voicing.
Once Rourke got past the surprise of having a woman beg for sex –her cheeks blazed with heat at that memory- those gentle hands had turned demanding. Holy hell, he’d damn near screwed her to the wall. It was a good thing Jennifer had been so turned on. The slickness of her pussy and some deep breathing were necessary for her to accommodate Rourke’s proportions. Maybe the myth about the size of a man’s hands and feet wasn’t a myth after all.
More than the sheer pleasure Rourke had given her, Jennifer would never forget holding his strong face in her hands and looking into his intense eyes as they both climaxed. The wonder she was feeling had been mirrored there in Rourke’s eyes. It was nearly perfect. Only almost perfect, because Jennifer already knew she’d have to escape before he could see how much he could hurt her. She had to hide so the fear of him being hurt more than just emotionally because of her became a reality.
Pastor Davis understood her concern. He loved Rourke like a son, so he’d agreed to keep her secret, but he hadn’t liked it at all. The pastor believed Rourke could help her far more than he could by giving her a place to hide, but Jennifer refused to give her evil ex the chance to touch a hair on Rourke’s perfect blond head, should Evan catch up with her before she found a means of escape from Vegas. That was a real possibility. She wasn’t worth Rourke’s life. It was better that she remain a pleasant memory for him. She was just a girl he met when he was home on leave, nothing more.
Jennifer pushed open the storeroom door and entered on aching feet. She had to move a few of the boxes Rourke had carried down the stairs to get to her destination. The rusty hinges creaked when Jennifer opened the door to her secret home. Rourke had come close to her hideaway. The fact that he’d stuck around so long after the others left was the only reason she hadn’t retreated to her cozy little hole in the wall sooner. She didn’t want anyone to know she was actually living in the church basement. If you could call hiding and biding your time living.
Her small room had a light, a single bed, and a shelf. Her few items of clothing hung from a bar affixed to the bottom of the shelf. Mrs. Davis had been bringing her novels to read since there wasn’t even a television. The books lined the shelf. Jennifer had read a few of them twice
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