Free Always the Best Man by Michelle Major Page B

who he was under the Mr. Perfect veneer he’d spent years polishing to a bright shine. He was a man at the edge of his control and a part of her wanted him to shuck off his restraint. With her. Yes. She could handle it. She would welcome whatever he had to offer.
    He blinked, and the moment was gone. His chest rose and fell like he’d sprinted up Crimson Mountain. She placed her hand on it, fingers splayed, and felt his heartbeat thrumming under her touch. “You aren’t your father.” She said the words softly and felt his breath hitch. “I know what it’s like to want to prove something so badly it makes you into someone you’re not. Someone fake and false. You’re real, Jase. Not perfect. Real.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said again, lifting his palm to press it over her hand. “For what I said and how I treated you.”
    She let a small smile curve her lips. “I think this makes us even.”
    â€œYou did good today. In my office and with my dad. Thank you.”
    This was the part where she should step away. If they were even, it was a fresh start. But she couldn’t force herself to move. Emily might not believe in perfect, but she had learned to appreciate real. The knowledge that Jase was different than she’d assumed both humbled and excited her. Of all people, she should have known not to judge a person by who they were on the outside. She’d built an entire life on outward impressions only to watch it crumble around her.
    The connection she felt with Jase, her awareness of him, suddenly flared to life stronger than it had before. She moved her hand up his chest and around to the back of his neck. At the same time she lifted onto her tiptoes so she could press her mouth to his. He tasted like night air and mint gum, and she loved how much he could communicate simply through the pressure of his mouth on hers.
    He angled his head and ran his tongue across her bottom lip. His hands came to rest on her hips, pulling her closer until the front of her was plastered against him. Unlike other men she’d known, he didn’t rush the kiss. It was as if learning her bit by bit was enough for him. He savored every taste, trailing kisses along her jaw before nipping at her earlobe.
    â€œYour ears are sensitive,” he whispered when she moaned softly. His breath feathered against her skin. “You touch them when you’re nervous.”
    â€œI don’t,” she started to argue, then he bit down on the lobe again and she squirmed. “You’re observant,” she amended.
    â€œI want more. I want to know everything about you,” he said and claimed her mouth again.
    Her brain was fuzzy but the meaning of his words penetrated the fog of desire after a few moments. “No.” She lifted her head and tried to step away but he held her steady.
    â€œWhy?” A kiss against her jaw.
    â€œI can’t think when you do that.”
    â€œThen I’ll do it more.”
    She opened her mouth to argue, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. One thing she’d say for Jase Crenshaw—the man was persistent. Even though she knew she should stop it, she gave in to the need building inside her. Her body sang with desire, tremors skittering over her skin. Jase ran his fingers up under the hem of her sweatshirt and across her spine. Everywhere he touched her Emily burned. Her breasts were heavy and sensitive where they rubbed against his T-shirt and she wanted more.
    So much more.
    So much it scared her into action. As Jase’s hands moved to the front of her waist and brushed the swell of her breasts, she wrenched away from him. With unsteady hands, she grabbed on to the front porch rail to prevent herself from moving back to the warmth she already missed.
    â€œWe’ve determined I’m not perfect,” Jase said, his tone a mix of amusement and frustration. “So what’s the problem