Foolproof

by Jennifer Blackwood

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jules

  “I look like Raggedy Ann.”

  I surveyed my bright red, paint-coated hair in the visor mirror. I hoped this came out. Bad enough when my hair turned green because of chlorine in the pool. Bright red hair was not flattering on me whatsoever.

  “Should have surrendered when I gave you the chance.”

  “I surrender to no man.”

  “I specifically remember you begging for mercy.” His lips tipped into a cocky grin. The only thing that made it funny was that his face was bright orange, only the skin around his eyes his normal tan. It was like an Oopma Loompa was smiling at me. A sexy Oompa Loompa, if that was even possible.

  I shifted on the towel and pivoted toward him, making sure I didn’t get any paint on his seat. “It was all strategy. It got me close enough to stuff a balloon down your pants, didn’t it?” And with that I answered the underwear conundrum. Black boxer briefs. Well, now, pink and black boxer briefs.

  “You’re sneaky. Need to keep an eye on you.”

  Flutters erupted in my stomach as we neared my apartment complex. Should I invite him in? Payton was at Blake’s by now, meaning I had the whole apartment to myself. I wanted to explore more of these black boxer briefs. He obviously had a good read on me if he’d picked paint ballooning as a date. Not many guys would risk it with someone they didn’t know that well. But I got the impression Ryan liked taking risks.

  I had clearly misjudged him when we first met. Yeah, he was a lot of talk, but underneath was a down-to-earth guy, one that I could relate to. He gave me glimpses of that occasionally. That, and his dirty comments, were enough to pull me in. Yes, I definitely should invite him in. I was ready to take it to the next level. At least physically. I needed to remind myself of that whenever feelings started to creep up out of the dark shadows of my heart. He was leaving; I couldn’t let myself get attached. Plus, he liked the Jules who kicked ass and took names. Not the one who second-guessed every decision she made, planned every situation with a mental checklist, but the one with the insatiable itch for more energy, which Ryan scratched when he was around.

  He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. Before I had a chance to unbuckle my seatbelt, he booked it out his side and opened my door. He smiled down at me as I swung my legs out of the car. Whoa, chivalry totally wasn’t dead. It was alive and kicking and did weird things to the space between my thighs.

  We walked to the door, fingers laced together. He cleared his throat nervously as we reached the welcome mat. Nervous Ryan was by far the cutest. It was genuine, vulnerable, and turned all thoughts to static noise. “I had a really good time tonight. Maybe we could—”

  No. This date could not end. I needed this. Needed him. I stopped his good-bye with a kiss, our mouths crashing together, my arms wrapped around his neck. He smoothed his hands down my waist, up my back, exploring every curve. Between breaths I said, “We should get cleaned up.” I managed to get my key into the door, and we stumbled into the hall.

  Ryan continued kissing my neck. “Are you sure?” His warm breath sent a shiver down my spine.

  “Getting cold feet, DeShane?”

  “Nope.” Ryan’s fingers traced down my sides. They hooked underneath the material and pulled my tank up to my ribs. He looked at me again, asking a silent permission. When I nodded, he worked the shirt over my head and tossed it on the floor behind me. He stood back, his gaze wandering over my body, and blew out a heavy breath. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Stay and show me how you’d get to the top of my spreadsheet.

  I lifted a brow. “Finish what you started earlier.”

  With that, he moved in, his soft lips kissing down my neck, ghosting a path to my breasts. He teased my nipples, grazing his teeth through the fabric of my bra until they turned into hardened peaks. Unhooking my bra, he cupped my breasts with his warm hands, running his thumbs over my nipples. He pushed me up against the wall, his breath coming out rushed and heavy as he kissed me.

  His body molded against mine, every taught muscle rubbing against my bare skin. I pushed him away long enough to tear his shirt over his head, his mouth going back to mine immediately. “I should get the shower started,” I breathed as his fingers slid underneath my shorts.

  He nodded and followed me into the bathroom, grabbing my ass as I bent over to start the water. I turned around to admire him, counting the dips and swells of his well-defined abs. Eight of them. I’d never seen anyone in person with an eight-pack. His strong arms folded over his chest, the veins cording through his muscles a delicious sight.

  Once I started the shower, I slid off my shorts and panties, running my teeth nervously over my bottom lip. This was it. No going back after this. Sex changed things, this thing that I couldn’t even define. But, with the way his gaze sent an electric current through my body, I honestly didn’t care how I might regret this in the morning. I needed this feeling more than I needed air at this point. It consumed me, filling me with an energy I’d craved for months.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he surveyed my naked body, and his hands shook a little when he removed his shorts. We stood there, the moment suspended in a bubble of an alternate dimension, one where I felt appreciated and worthwhile. With Ryan, my whole world felt like skydiving without a parachute. And if I didn’t tread carefully, I’d smash into the cold, hard earth.

  “Come here.” He pulled me into an embrace and smoothed his hand down my hair. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered into my ear.

  How did he always know the right words to say? Most guys I’d dated resorted to silence in moments like this or saying something totally douche-bag. My insides liquefied, my body melting into his. I ran my hands over his chest and down his arms, appreciating the firm muscles under every inch of skin. “So are you.”

  He guided me into the shower, the warm spray running over our bodies, a swirl of colors trailing to the drain. I went to remove my braids to rinse out the paint when Ryan’s hand stopped me. “Don’t. I like them.”

  He took my braids in his hand and lightly tugged, guiding my head to the side as he kissed down my neck. His tongue flicked over my nipple before he took it in his mouth. A groan escaped as my body temperature climbed, heat pooling deep in my belly. His fingers spanned across the small of my back, pulling me closer. The fingers that wrote notes that made me smile. The ones that caressed my cheek in a way that made my heart threaten to take flight out of my chest.

  His hand let go of my braids as he cupped both of my breasts, his mouth giving attention to one nipple while his thumb attended to the other. He kissed down my stomach and kneeled in front of me, looking up at me through impossibly long blond lashes, blue eyes blazing. He nudged my thigh. “Spread your legs.”

  My shaky legs obliged. He smoothed his hands up and down my thighs and ran his tongue across his lower lip. He moved in closer and took one long lick up my center. I shuddered and grabbed the wall behind me for support. My knees threatened to buckle at any second. He swirled his tongue along my clit and slid a finger inside me. He crooked his finger, hitting my spot, sending waves of liquid heat through me. When he added a second finger, I cried out, knocking a bottle of shampoo off the rack as my arm flailed. The build between my legs intensified, seconds away from climax. I wanted him. Needed all of him. More than just his tongue and fingers. I needed that connection, to know he felt this, too.

  “Please. Ryan.”

  He stopped, took his fingers out, and sat back on his heels. “Yes?”

  The sudden removal of all pleasure pushed me over the edge.

  Now. Needed him now. “Fuck me.”

  He smiled and gave another swirl with his tongue across my center.

  “Please,” I cried out.

  “I love it when you beg.”

  He stood up and flipped me around, my hands braced against the shower wall.

  Ryan exited the shower. He grabbed a condom from his pants in the hallway, quickly rolle
d it on, and returned his hands to my body. “I told you next time you were bent over, I’d fuck you. I make good on all my promises.”

  I leaned over farther, pressing into his erection. He guided his dick to my center and in one movement he was inside, filling me. A moan escaped, and I pressed farther into him, taking every delicious inch.

  “Tell me how much you want this.” He pulled on my braids and thrust into me again, sending me climbing closer to my release.

  “So,” I said. He slammed into me, taking my breath away. “Fucking.” He pulled out and slowly slid in this time, He pulled out and slowly slid in this time, my center tightening around every delicious inch. “Bad.”

  I could barely speak, let alone think, while he pounded into me. I wanted this more than anything. This intimacy, doing this with Ryan, filled the void that had grown over the past few months, plastering over the cracks, giving me that high. When he released my hair and moved to massage my clit, I lost all control, spiraling, my veins catching on fire, a blaze erupting from my center, sending tremors coursing through my whole body.

  His hips pumped into me quickly and he let out a low growl, my name on his lips as he climaxed. I leaned against the shower wall for support, my limbs in a gelatinous state. Ryan smoothed his hands down my back, grabbed my hips, and flipped me around so we were facing each other. He glided his knuckle along my cheek and pushed a piece of hair that fell loose behind my ear, staring at me with those baby blues. This was more than a physical connection. I felt Ryan in the marrow of my bones, our souls connecting, different than anything I’d ever experienced.

  “That was…”

  Amazing. Hot. Best sex I’d ever had. “Yeah.”

  We smiled at each other, enjoying the peacefulness of it all, the warm shower lapping over our bodies.

  While he took off the condom his phone rang out in the hallway. I was already done rinsing off, so I offered, “You want me to grab that for you?”

  “Yeah, it should be Blake. He said he was going to call about going fishing.”

  I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my body, padding down the hallway. His phone was still ringing when I reached in and extracted it from his shorts.

  It wasn’t a number I recognized, but then again, I didn’t have Blake’s memorized. I picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”

  “Um, who is this?” a shrieky voice asked.

  Biyotch alert. “Jules.” I stuffed down my anger. You’re answering Ryan’s phone, not yours. “May I ask who’s calling?”

  “Lex. His girlfriend. Where’s Ryan?”

  Como? No freakin’ way. I squeezed the phone until my knuckles ached. Ryan hadn’t mentioned a girlfriend. Definitely not when he was passing naughty notes in the store…or fucking me in the shower. A groan escaped my lips and I dug my nails into my palms. I knew it. Too good to be true. There always had to be a catch. Of course someone that gifted with his mouth and—yeah—had to have something wrong. And, in this case, another girl. Shit. How did I always end up being that girl? The one on the side. Never the first choice.

  I gripped the phone, pretending it was his neck. How did I let myself think he was any different?

  Girlfriend or not, I didn’t know her and decided against pissing her off even more. That’d just make me look psychotic. Details first, then I could freak out later. “He’s, uh, busy at the moment. Let me go get him.”

  The water shut off and Ryan stood in the bathroom doorway seconds later, a towel wrapped low on his waist, his chest still dripping wet. Damn him and his delicious abs.

  I handed the phone to him. “Lex wants to talk to you.”

  His face paled and he swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. He put the phone to his ear. “Hi.” He put his hand over the receiver and said, “Can I have a minute?”

  “Sure.” I pointed toward my bedroom so he could have some privacy. He pushed the door closed, but the walls were paper-thin, meaning I could hear the conversation. At least his half of it.

  I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Okay, total load of crock. Of course I meant to eavesdrop. I wanted to know who this girl was and why he needed privacy to talk to her. I grabbed some clothes from the dryer and put them on, straining to hear anything coming from my room.

  “Lex, come on.”

  More silence. My bet was on total bitch-out session.

  “I don’t know. Just drop it.”

  Another pause.

  “I told you, I don’t know. She’s…I don’t know, it’s nothing. Calm down.”

  My heart sunk into my stomach. He just used me and nothing in the same sentence. After what we just did in the shower. I shook my head, disappointed that I had let my guard down.

  When he ended the call, he stepped out of my room and tugged on his paint-splattered shorts.

  “Who’s Lex?”

  “She’s my ex-girlfriend.”

  I quirked a brow. Right, buddy.

  “I’m serious. She’s not exactly the most stable person.”

  Okay, I could buy that. She did give off the cray-cray vibe. And nothing brought crazy out of a girl like the potential of an ex moving on. Not that I had any experience in that department. Ahem.

  Then again, maybe she was dating him and he was trying to cover it up. Wouldn’t be the first time. Those were always the worst guys, the ones who happened to forget they had girlfriends, only mentioning this after things started getting serious. God, a fling shouldn’t be this complicated. Then again, what we just did felt like something more. Nothing that good could be done with zero emotion. Even if I intended to keep it purely physical, it wasn’t working, my pesky emotions were getting in the way.

  But he still wasn’t off the hook for what he’d told her.

  “What is this?” I pointed from him to me.

  He blew out a loud sigh and ran a hand through his wet hair. “I don’t know.”

  My chest squeezed a little. I needed him out of the house, time to process the fact that I’d just given myself up to a guy who wasn’t over his ex. “I’m good with whatever, but I don’t sleep with other people’s boyfriends. It’s kind of a rule. Ex or not, if you aren’t over her, this stops tonight. The last thing I need in my life right now is more drama.”

  “I’m over her, but I can’t answer your question about you and me.”

  This ambiguity—this unsureness—that’s how it always started with potential guys. I thought if I could just push those thoughts aside and keep it purely about sex, it wouldn’t matter. No one would get hurt if no one had feelings. Freakin’ A, Ryan wasn’t the typical knight in shining armor type. I shouldn’t have felt the stab of betrayal as much as I did.

  You know what? Screw him. If I was an I don’t know, he was a get the hell out of my house. Time to put on the big girl panties.

  “Well thanks for the great sex. I appreciate it. But I don’t think we need to explore this further. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

  Check the thermostat, because it is ice cold up in this joint.

  He frowned and opened his mouth to say something. Before he could speak, I handed him his nasty paint-coated shirt and opened the door.

  A dumbfounded look crossed his face. He wisely didn’t say anything, grabbed his clothes, and walked out of the apartment. I shut the door as soon as he exited and slid down the wall.

  I pressed my head against my knees, furious at myself. I knew better than to trust him, and yet I let him in. But that wouldn’t happen again.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ryan

  I banged my head against the back of my seat. Why had I said that I didn’t know what I wanted with Jules? Because I was a fucking coward, that’s why. The look in her eyes when that came out of my mouth, I knew that I had blown it. What was I supposed to say? Hey Jules, I think you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met, and that scares the shit out of me because every girl I’ve ever cared about has ripped my heart out. Or better yet I’m moving away in a month, and I’m worried that I’ll be cheated on again. Yeah,
she’d eat that shit right up.

  Now she probably thought I used her for sex, the complete opposite of what I’d intended. I should have hung up as soon as she handed me the phone. I’d meant to tell Lex off and instead created a fucking disaster. Just like me to say the wrong thing at the exact moment it counted the most—like just after having amazing sex. With a girl who deserved more than a good shower fuck.

  I wiped my hands over my face and put the car into gear. I needed to go home and sort this out. This was going to end eventually, it had to, with me moving away—Lex probably did me a huge favor. This girl had me falling faster than a soccer cleat to the back of my knee. Part of me wanted to kill the engine and barge back in there and make it right, but she’d think I was full of shit. If I wanted to prove to her she was worth more than a one-night stand, I needed to show her. Figuring out how would be the difficult part.

  What would Blake do? He’d probably tell me that it was a bad idea to screw on the first date. Solid hypothetical advice. But I wasn’t about to say no to her when she asked if I wanted to get cleaned up inside. Even I didn’t have that level of self-control.

  Think, asshole, think. What would make this better? I could get her flowers, but that seemed too cheesy. No, I needed to come up with something that would mean something to her. I made the fifteen-minute drive home, still clueless as to how to right things between us.

  All the windows were dark when I pulled into the driveway. Usually every light in the house filtered through the windows, even rooms that weren’t being used. Dad and I had an ongoing battle—he’d go through rooms turning on the lights, and I’d ghost behind, flipping them off to conserve energy. He usually treated the environment like it was his own personal shitter, which drove me insane. Then again, maybe he really was coming around. He’d said he was supportive of me, and maybe my conservation tips had finally made an impact.

  A note lay on the table as I entered the kitchen.

  Be back late. Leftover pizza in fridge.

  Maybe things were actually getting better between us. This whole summer, I’d been left to fend for myself, only eating with Dad the first night I’d arrived. Maybe it was a peace offering.