by Jodi Redford
“Huh. Guess that part about let’s stay friends is a memory I’m picking up from an alternate dimension. Damn, I hate when that happens.”
He scowled. “My saying we should stay friends in no way negated the fact that we were indeed dating.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Stay implies we were a friends with benefits situation—entirely different category than dating. I’ll also point out that the benefits in our situation were certainly limited. I can totally understand how you’d be confused by the whole thing,” she tacked on in the most patronizing tone she could conjure.
“Jesus.” He released one hand from the steering wheel and tweaked the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to need a stiff one when I get home.”
“Me too. Good thing I have Mr. Boogie Nights on speed dial.” She tossed in a syrupy smile for extra obnoxiousness.
His eyes narrowing, Jack dropped his hand. “Prove it. Call him right now.”
“I would but my battery died.”
Those devastating lips of his curled up at one corner. “Always have an excuse ready, don’t you?”
“It’s not an excuse.” She fetched her cell from the confines of her purse and held the device toward him, toggling the Power button several times to confirm the phone was indeed dead. Rarely paid off being lazy about charging the stupid thing. She’d bask in this moment.
Jack lifted his focus to her face, that smoky stare punching straight through the shambles of her equilibrium. There was no way he intended his gaze to be seductive, but when a man was born with bedroom eyes any look winged a woman’s way immediately prompted visions of entwined, naked and sweaty bodies. “You’re a terrible liar, Jane. The sooner you give up this charade with the nonexistence porn star the simpler your life will be.”
Ha. Like she knew the first thing about being simple. Not happening. If she had to, she’d track down the closest porn star and pay him to attend this damn wedding with her. Didn’t even have to be a star, per se. He could be a damn fluffer for all it mattered. Face it, out of everyone she knew, she was the only one who racked up enough time on porn sites to recognize anyone in the industry.
In fact, he didn’t necessarily have to be in porn. Just someone with enough sexual finesse and confidence to be able to pull off the ruse. Someone like...
Marissa’s gigolo. Yes! Only not Marissa’s gigolo. Though Jane waved her freak flag high and proud...eww. Yeah, no Flowers In the Attic reenactments for her. All she needed to do was track down the info for that escort service her brother used to work for. She couldn’t pry the details out of Trig or Marissa without raising their suspicions, which meant she’d have to do the footwork solo. No biggie. Wasn’t like she had to use the same company, even. The first one she dug up would suffice.
Hot damn, this could work. Reining in her triumphant grin proved a herculean effort. Somehow she managed to pull that off and not cackle like a maniacal evil plotter for the remainder of the ride to her condo.
Jack pulled into the covered carport. Leaving the engine idling, he shifted to face her, his arm resting casually on the leather-topped console between them.
“Is this the part where you try to get in my pants?” Like there was a chance in hell of that happening. He’d made it perfectly clear that her vag was the pussy equivalent of a Bermuda Triangle he had no intention of getting lost in.
“And risk getting my ass kicked by Mr. Boogie Nights?” His expression suggested he wasn’t sweating bullets over the prospect.
“Eh. He’s hinted at us having a threesome.” She cocked her head to the side. “I understand if you’d rather bow out. You know, due to performance anxiety.”
“Don’t think I could hold my own with a porn star?”
“He is hung like a horse.”
Jack’s smirk reappeared. “Not worried. Truth be told, I suspect your boy toy porn star would be the one feeling inadequate.”
Good grief. How big was the cocky sonofabitch? And damn him for hiding that bad boy from her all that time. “Size isn’t everything. A man who knows how to use his equipment scores higher points with me.”
“Wise woman. Does he make you come by kissing and sucking the spot below your ear?” His dark gaze turned several degrees smokier as she gaped at him. “You thought I didn’t know.” His chuckle prompted a wicked tingle in her clit. “A woman only shudders and gasps like that when she’s climaxing or enjoying the hell out of dessert.”
“Maybe I was fantasizing about tiramisu.”
“Uh huh. You still haven’t answered my question.”
She knew a trap when she saw one. If she told him yes, it was as good as admitting he’d gotten her off with a mere kiss. More than a time or two. If she said no, it’d give him the perfect opening to assume her imaginary lover was inferior to him and a dud in the sack. Either way, she was screwed.
Well played you cagey bastard. “I don’t pay attention to these things.”
“You don’t pay attention to coming?”
She offered a non-committal shrug. “Sometimes it sneaks up on you and you don’t realize it.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“What? It’s totally possible.”
“Not with me. No way you weren’t aware you were coming when I kissed you. Maybe a little brain-fried from the rush, but not entirely comatose yet.”
“Seriously, I’m surprised you don’t need a bigger car to chauffeur that massive ego of yours around.”
“Not ego, sweetheart. Fact.”
Being called sweetheart by anyone other than her parents usually would have earned the endearment abuser a bop upside the head or a direct knee-jam to the balls. Not that Jack didn’t deserve one or both.
The sad, pathetic part? A disgustingly mushy sensation was currently homesteading her body.
This is why she always listened to her pussy over her heart when it came to men. Her vagina understood the importance of keeping things fun and uncomplicated. Her heart, on the other hand, could be a fucking mess at the most inconvenient moments. Like right now, when she was staring at Jack and trying to cling to every damn good reason she had for drowning the punch-drunk butterflies dive-bombing around in her belly.
He stroked his fingertip across his bottom lip, killing her a bit more. “You know, there’s a simple way we could end this debate.”
“Yeah, you could admit you don’t have as much of an effect on me as your over-bloated ego would like you to believe.”
“Or I could prove you a liar.” Dropping his arm, he moved in closer. Her pulse drummed increasingly faster as his head descended toward hers.
There was no damn way he was going to kiss her. Not after what transpired between them. This was only a test. A tease to get her anticipating it before he pulled away at the last minute, leaving her high and dry. Again.
Well, not entirely dry, according to her panties. Sonofabitch.
She peered up at him, fully expecting him to halt his advance. He didn’t. Instead, he slid his hand to her nape and closed the scant space separating their mouths. The all too intoxicatingly familiar pressure of his lips triggered another shiver. She detected his smile. Resisting the urge to bite him, she growled against his mouth. “That was not an orgasm.”
“I know. But I can already tell you’re going to be a powder keg for me.”
She had a bad feeling he was right. It's been too long since she’d experienced this wild, crazy, toe-curling, roller coaster of intensity that both terrified and thrilled her.
What did it mean if a man could turn her inside out with only his kiss?
She was doomed. That’s fucking what. He probably did her a huge favor running away from her that night. If she’d slept with him, he’d be her drug of choice. And like an addict, she’d constantly be begging him for the next fix.
How damn embarrassing would that be? Unfortunately, her body was doing a bang-up job previewing what that existence would amount to. And it didn’t bode well for her leaving this car without proving herself a big fat l
iar.
Jack’s fingertips skated along her neck, tickling the fine hairs residing there, and she squirmed. His lips coaxed hers open with a breath-stealing, bold confidence that sealed her fate. Pitted against his effortless seduction, her last hope of exorcising him from her mind died a miserable death. A firing squad wouldn’t have annihilated her faster than Jack’s kisses.
His tongue flicked hers, a devilish tease before he upped the stakes by sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. He released her and dipped his head slightly. Oh shit. She knew what was coming next. Heh. There’s an ironic double entendre for ya.
He scraped his teeth along her jawline. Taking his sweet-ass time, he worked his way to her neck, easily locating the damnable spot that always did her in. Despite her desperate attempt at steeling herself for it, she jolted when he grazed her with his lips. His chuckle washed over her, infuriating and bone-meltingly sexy. Might explain why her body suddenly felt like it was made out of Jell-O.
Get your shit together. Are you really going to let him win this easily? Good grief. This had to be the saddest defeat in history.
Then again, was there really any loser when it came to orgasms? Huh. Talk about a moral dilemma.
Jack coasted slightly to the right, his beard scruff catching her skin with the movement. The friction sent shimmery darts of electricity through her. And that was just from contact with her neck. If his face was between her legs right now, the question wouldn’t be whether or not she’d be able to hold out from coming, but if she’d require shock paddles to revive her afterward.
Undoubtedly.
His free hand snuck upward and cupped her left boob through the triple layers of her blazer, blouse, and bra. Even with the encumbrance of her clothing hindering things, his massaging fingers drove her nuts. Her breasts might be small, but they were sensitive as hell. And he damn well knew it.
Although he’d technically never gotten naked with her, a couple of their make-out sessions ended up with her boobs exposed and happily helpless to the devious machinations of his wandering mouth. One time his hand even found its way inside her panties. It took exactly two caresses of his thumb over her clit before she’d shot off like a rocket. He hadn’t even gotten a finger in her, for shit’s sake.
He slipped the single button on her jacket loose and slid his hand past the lapel before resuming where he’d left off with tormenting her breast. She bit her lip when his thumb grazed the hardened nub of her nipple. Oh, this was such blatant cheating. The sneaky bastard knew it just as well as she did. As much as she wanted to call him out on it, the sensations zip-lining her nerve endings made it impossible to find her tongue.
Unfortunately, Jack had no problem remembering where he’d left his. He made good use of that fact by gliding his tongue over the erratic drum of her pulse before sucking her earlobe. Pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he rolled the distended tip with enough coaxing pressure to elicit a corresponding clench deep in her core. Her breath hitched in her throat—all the ammunition he needed.
Returning to the sensitized spot beneath her ear, he went in for the kill, short-circuiting her brain with a sucking kiss that instantly primed every cell in her body to detonate in three...
...Two...
...One...
Blast off.
A broken gasp punching its way past her lips, she bowed against him, a kaleidoscope of pleasure scrambling her brain. For an endless moment, she floated in a dazed fog of bliss. It wasn’t until Jack moved his head that she realized her fingers were tangled in his hair. Embarrassed, she slid them free, her limp hands brushing his broad shoulders. They stared at each other, their ragged breaths the only sound in the steamy vehicle. She searched his eyes for the expected spark of triumph. It was there but accompanied by a glimmer of...something. Unease? Regret?
It’s what the stupid bastard got for needing to be right. She was supposed to be the foolish, impetuous one here, always diving headfirst into murky waters without first checking the depth and whether or not a scary sea monster lurked beneath the surface. “Satisfied now?”
He dragged a hand over his mouth. The tension bracketing his lips didn’t ease. “Obviously you were.”
“I thought that was the whole point of your experiment. You should be gloating your ass off right now.” She unclicked her seatbelt and reached for her purse, praying he wouldn’t notice the shaking in her hands. “Fun as this has been, I’m afraid I have to call it a night.”
“Jane...”
Ignoring the twisting in her gut, she stalled, her fingers hovering above the door handle. “What?”
He remained silent for a long moment. “Nothing. I’ll watch to make sure you make it into your condo okay.”
Leave it to Jack to be a gentleman and an asshole. Shaking her head, she exited the vehicle and crossed the driveway. Once she’d reached the security of her front entry and didn’t have to worry about anyone witnessing her discomposure, she closed the door behind her and slumped against the slab of wood. She pressed her trembling fingers to her lips, the lingering phantom of his kiss a stubborn brand that refused to budge.
She had to get him out of her system. Once and for all. Whatever it took.
Panic seeping in, she latched onto her earlier decision to hire an escort as her fake boy toy.
Fuck that shit, she’d take it a step further. She’d request the kinkiest sonofabitch the agency employed. Handcuffs, blindfolds, butt plugs. Bring it on, bad boy. Desperate times called for desperate measures. No pussying around with this. The level of debauchery she had in mind? Damn good thing she wasn’t Catholic, otherwise her priest would probably keel over dead in the confessional box.
The tension that’d seized her broke its hold. Its absence was like ditching fifty bazillion pounds in a nanosecond. Giving her maniacal cackle free rein, she pushed away from the door. Adios, Jack Brewster. You’re about to become a distant memory. For good.
CHAPTER THREE
Jack hung back, a smile twitching his lips while he watched Sunny with the other daycare kids. From what he could deduce, she was unsuccessfully trying to foist one of her Barbies on a boy who clearly wanted nothing to do with the doll. Did his daughter let that stop her? Of course not. The little troublemaker was just as stubborn as another certain female he knew.
Jane’s face materialized in his mind’s eye, triggering his frown. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Nothing new there, but his preoccupation with her was stronger and more annoying than ever.
What the hell was he thinking last night? Kissing her was a huge ass complication he didn’t need. He’d finally started to get his life in order and learn from his colossal mistakes. The biggest one of them all being his unfortunate habit of letting his dick overrule his brain. No more of that stupidity. After his divorce was finalized his focus had been sharply fixed on three things—taking care of Sunny, building his business, and retaining his bachelorhood, AKA: holy sweet freedom.
Then he’d met Jane. Within two seconds of that fateful occurrence, he’d immediately known she was the kind of trouble that could fuck up his plans—and his life—in one fell swoop.
Although he and Jane’s brother had been acquaintances for a few years before Trig started working for him, Jack had never crossed paths with any of Trig’s family. Looking back on it now, maybe it was a blessing in disguise. If he’d met Jane during the ugly ordeal of his divorce, while he was still raw and reeling from Ava’s drunken revelation, he might have done something epically stupid—like lose himself for a month or two in another woman’s pussy. Specifically Jane’s pussy.
Guaranteed it would have resulted in her having a few more voodoo dolls bearing his image, seeing how he would have eventually given her a grateful pat on the ass and walked out the door, never to return.
Yeah, he knew she thought he was the world’s biggest dick for breaking up with her the way he did. And likely he was. But it would have been worse if he’d slept with her first. So much worse. Females tended to
be emotional creatures. Even Jane. Though he suspected she’d never admit to it. Bottom line, sex usually came with the undesired side effect of bonding for the majority of women out there. Once that calamity occurred, it was only a matter of time before the dreaded soul mate reference began creeping into random conversations. They couldn’t help it. It was the way females were wired. Blame it on society long ago deciding a woman should only have sex with a partner she loved and intended to marry.
Jesus, men were lucky they didn’t have to deal with that shit. Or at least most men. Men like him, certainly. Even with Ava, the main bond had been primarily lust. And he knew damn well she hadn’t really loved him. She’d loved his cock. And the high it gave her sleeping with the most requested gigolo on the market. Back when she’d first hired him, that’s exactly what he’d been. A young, naïve, in-possession-of-more-sexual-stamina-than-brains moron.
Compared to the previous version of himself, he was a damn monk now. He had to be. A person tended to be overly cautious after being tricked into marriage with an oopsy pregnancy. On the rare occasion he did let his dick have its way, he always doubled up on the condoms, to be on the safe side. Which was hella enjoyable. Might as well plop a ski glove on his cock and give him a hand job.
Understandably enough, most times he deemed it not worth it and settled for some porn and a self-administered hand job, sans the glove. Not nearly as depressing as it sounded. Until he thought of Jane and those damn sexy noises she made when she came. All from a kiss. Fucking Christ.
A bead of sweat trickled down his nape, more a byproduct of his tormenting thoughts than the ninety-degree-plus heat index. He held zero doubt that the orgasms he gave Jane with the neck kisses were nothing compared to what he could fully give her. He’d made a small fortune ensuring a woman’s complete satisfaction. He might technically be retired from doing the actual escorting these days, but even an old dog never unlearns its favorite tricks.
