Finally, my phone dings with a text alert.
Okay.
The second I walk out of the building I see him in the near distance, leaning against the front of his car. I’m walking with a friend from class, listening distractedly as she rambles on about the assignment for next week, my gaze never leaving him though he doesn’t notice me, not yet. She catches me staring though and stops short when she spots Shep.
“Ooh, he’s pretty,” Nicole breathes. “Looks like he’s waiting for someone too.”
I pretend for a moment he’s not waiting for me and I try my best to observe him objectively. It’s tough because I’m totally hot for him and I can’t blame it on alcohol, not tonight. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that molds to his chest and shoulders, the sleeves tight around his biceps. Dark rinse jeans, a baseball cap on backwards, his face lit in shadows from the lamppost just to the right of him. He looks…amazing, bent over his phone, the glow of the screen highlighting that gorgeous face.
My phone buzzes and I check it.
You’re staring.
I laugh and he lifts his head at the sound, the upward tilt of his lips just for me. Even from such a long distance, I feel the impact of his smile all the way down to my bones.
“Wait a minute.” Nicole touches my arm, stopping me. “Is he waiting for you?”
She sounds surprised. I guess I can’t blame her. “Yeah, he is,” I say proudly, hitching the strap of my backpack higher on my shoulder.
“Wow.” She squints, studying him as we draw closer to the parking lot and Shep. “Is that Shep Prescott?”
“Uh huh,” I tell her, bracing for some what a player, he’s a total man whore remark from her.
But she remains blissfully silent. I can only assume she’s so stunned Shep would be waiting for me she doesn’t know what to say.
“Hey.” He lifts his chin when I draw closer, his gaze going to Nicole by my side. She’s gawking at him unabashedly and I’m almost embarrassed for her. Almost.
Really, I can’t blame her. I would totally gawk at him myself. Which I am.
“Hi,” I say as I nudge Nicole in the side. This helps stop the gawking. “Shep, this is Nicole.”
“Hello,” he says with a nod, his gaze immediately returning to me. “You look good.”
Those three simple words spoken in that low, seductive voice just about melt the bones in my legs. “Um, thanks.” I’m wearing my tightest jeans as per Kelli’s instructions and a blue and white plaid button up shirt over a white camisole with a built in bra, though that went against my better judgment, Kelli insisted. I’m definitely dressed up compared to my usual yoga pants and a sweatshirt outfit I normally wear for this Monday night class.
“You need a ride?” he asks Nicole and for some strange reason, my heart warms because he’s considerate enough to think of her and make the offer.
“No, I drove.” She shakes her head and flashes me a knowing smile, one that says you lucky bitch. “Nice meeting you, Shep. See you around, Jade.”
She walks over to her car, I can see one of the security guards that watch the parking lot nearby and I know she’s safe. We always walk in pairs or groups out here at night because you never know. Too many campus rape horror stories across the country and we don’t want to risk it.
“Are you two close?” he asks once Nicole is out of earshot.
I shake my head, and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “She’s more like a class friend. Not like we hang out, but we always talk before class, walk out together. Most of the time she gives me a ride.”
“You don’t have a car?”
“No, I can’t afford one. When school’s out I’ll go back home and get a job for the summer. I’m trying to save up for a cheap used car.” My mom can’t afford to just buy me a car. She drives an ’01 Jetta that’s a European heap of crap she’s constantly taking to the shop. What I make at Light My Fire pays for the extras but I couldn’t manage a car payment on my part time wages. I have no idea what it’s like to be outlandishly wealthy like the Prescotts.
Worry knots my stomach and I try to push it away. Just thinking about the wealth, the legacy Shep comes from makes me nervous. What is he doing with me? Half the time I wonder if he’s just trying to torment me.
The other half wonders if he really could be in to me.
Nah.
“You won’t stick around here for the summer?” he asks, knocking me from my thoughts.
“There’s no point. The dorms close and I can’t afford rent anywhere, not even if I had a bunch of roommates.” A breeze washes over me and I shiver, wishing I brought a sweater. I forgot my cardigan last night at the casino or whatever they call it. I should ask for Shep to look for it. I hate losing clothes, more so because I don’t want to have to replace them.
“That’s too bad,” he says, his voice soft, his expression pensive. He pushes away from his car and approaches, stopping directly in front of me. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah.” I tilt my head back so I can look into his eyes. He’s so tall. And broad. He looks cute with the backward baseball hat on. I wonder if he used to play sports. If he works out constantly or maybe his body is naturally that amazing. “Where are we going?”
He smiles and the sight of it sends a zing of electricity through my veins. “It’s a surprise.”
“Your house?” I ask incredulously as he pulls into the driveway and waits for the garage to open. “If you think you can get me into your bed that easy, you’re sadly mistaken.” My voice comes out shaky and I clear my throat. What if that’s his real intent? Would I refuse him? I should.
I should, I should, I should.
He gives me a look. “Do you think I have a one track mind or what?”
“Well, you are a guy.” And all they think about is sex.
But here’s the problem. The more time I spend with Shep, the more I think about sex. With Shep. Only him. No one else.
What’s he like in bed? Fast and intense? Slow and methodical? Does he joke as much naked as he does clothed? Just imagining him stripping off my clothes, his mouth blazing a path along my skin, makes me uneasy. In a great but nerve wracking way. What if I don’t measure up? I don’t have any secret sexual tricks. When it comes to sex, most of the time I feel like an utter failure.
Yep, off I go. My performance anxiety is at it again.
“Right,” he practically snorts as he pulls into the garage and shuts off the engine. He turns to look at me, his hands loosely gripping the steering wheel. “And only guys think about sex.”
“Most of the time,” I agree quietly.
“And girls never think about sex.” He starts to chuckle and it’s this deep, rich sound that makes me warm inside. “I should be offended by your generalizations.”
I’m a hypocrite is what I am. I was the one who threw myself at him last night. Who agreed to see him again. Who can’t help but think about him. Naked.
“And you do realize you can have sex in places other than a bed, right? I mean, why limit yourself? You can do it against a wall. On the floor. In the back seat of my car.” He flicks his gaze to the back seat while he says that.
And instantly fuels my imagination, especially with the way he said my car.
As if he’s thinking of the two of us together. In the backseat. Right now…
“Don’t you think a bed is more…comfortable?” I can’t believe we’re having this conversation and that I’m actually encouraging it.
He stares at me quietly, his gaze dropping to my mouth, lingering there. My heart starts thumping extra hard and I lick my suddenly dry lips.
I swear he just groaned.
“Sometimes, it’s not about the comfort,” he finally says, his voice scratchy. Husky. Sexy. “Sometimes…you’re so overcome, you can’t wait to get your hands on her.”
I look at his hands, see the way they flex and shift as they still cling to the steering wheel. His palms are wide, his fingers long. They’ve touched me before and I wish they w
ere touching me right freaking now. “Overcome?” No guy has ever acted like he’s had to have me, no matter what the cost. I wonder what that’s like.
More than anything, I wonder what that’s like with Shep.
“Well, yeah.” His fingers curl around the steering wheel tightly and he turns his head, his smoldering gaze meeting mine. “Don’t tell me you’ve never felt like that.”
I’m feeling like that right about now. Not that I can say so. “Not really,” I confess, my voice barely a whisper.
He’s quiet for so long I want to squirm in my seat I’m that uncomfortable. I look away from him, staring at my hands as I clutch them in my lap. I should’ve never said that. He must think I’m hopeless. He’ll probably start the car and drive me back to my dorm hall, drop me off and hit me with a casual, “Nice knowing you,” before he speeds off.
I know I would if I were him. I don’t measure up in more ways than I can count.
He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat and I lift my head, my gaze going to his hands as they drop from the steering wheel and he starts to move.
Toward me.
I lean back, my shoulders bumping against the passenger door, my breath catching in my throat. I look at his face, taking in his determined expression, the spark in his gaze. He looks…intense.
Serious.
“Prescott! What the fuck man? Are you jacking off in your car or what?”
“Who’s that?” I practically scream, fear sending my heart into my throat. Shep falls back into his seat, muttering curse words under his breath as he reaches for the door handle and opens it, climbing out of the car.
“Fuck off, Tristan. Jesus.” Shep slams the door, leaving me alone in the car.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, I smooth my hand over my hair, then rest it on my chest, my heart throbbing against my palm. I think Tristan is his cousin. Kelli gave me a run down of the people Shep’s known to hang out with and I already met Gabe.
A sharp knock sounds directly behind me and I shift away from the passenger door with a squeal, turning to find an extremely good looking guy peering at me through the window. He knocks again on the glass, flashing me a friendly smile and I try to smile back but it feels wobbly.
Shep appears by Tristan’s side, glowering at him so Tristan has no choice but to back away from the door. Shep opens it for me and I climb out of the vehicle, casting a nervous glance in Shep’s direction before I turn to Tristan. “Hi.”
Tristan smiles lazily, his perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth flashing. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”
“Jade.” I feel my cheeks flush as Shep sends Tristan a deathly glare.
“Tristan.” His deep voice is a warning.
“I’m just being polite.” Tristan extends his hand, his expression neutral though his eyes are sparkling with mischief. “Nice to meet you, Jade. You must be the redhead Shep and Gabe keep going on and on about.”
I gape at the both of them, too stunned to say a word. They’ve been going on and on about me? What in the world? Why?
I’m dying to know why.
My cousin has the biggest mouth on the planet. I hate that guy. And I especially hate the way he keeps staring at Jade like he wants to gobble her up.
Only I get that privilege damn it.
“Where’s your restroom?” Jade asks, glancing around the giant kitchen that is perfectly clean because we never use it. Granite countertops gleam beneath the lights and the stainless steel appliances are spotless. It helps that we have a housekeeper.
Jesus, we sound spoiled even in my thoughts.
“There’s one right back there,” Tristan says, pointing the way we just came from the garage. “First door on the left.”
“Thanks.” She flashes me a look, one that says she’s petrified, before she leaves.
I turn toward Tristan. “What the hell are you doing here?” I ask him quietly. We share the house that we’ve lived together in since we came here for college. Family sticks together and all that bullshit. Our dads are brothers, meaning Tristan is a Prescott too and he’s even more irresponsible than I am. Or at least, he used to be. Lately he’s actually been concentrating on school and getting decent grades, versus partying all the time.
“Uh, I live here?” Tristan scratches the back of his head, his gaze going to Jade’s retreating back. The bathroom door closes with a soft click.
“I know that, dickhead. I just thought you’d be somewhere else tonight.” It hadn’t been my intention to get her in my bed. Not really. I’d hoped to just hang out and…talk to her. Get to know her.
But the minute she started accusing me of being able to think of only one thing, I could only think of…one thing. Sex. With Jade. Hot and sweaty fucking with my name falling from her lips as I make her come over and over again.
Then Tristan had to show up and ruin everything.
“A few people are coming over.” At my death glare he shrugs, totally unfazed. “Nothing big. Gabe is bringing a couple of chicks so I wouldn’t be lonely. We were going to watch the Giants game I DVR’d. Drink beer. Smoke a bowl. You in?”
I don’t want to be in. I want to spend time with Jade. Alone. But I don’t want her to be uncomfortable either. Would she care if I smoked a little weed? I’m amped up. Feeling a little edgy.
I blame it all on sexual frustration.
“I’ll see what Jade wants to do,” I start, then clamp my lips shut when I see the shit eating grin on Tristan’s face. “What?”
“You’re going to consult with the redhead first? When do you ever consult with anyone? You always do whatever the hell you want.” Tristan’s smile somehow grows wider. “You like this chick.”
There’s no use denying it. “Don’t call her that. She has a name. And didn’t we already have this conversation?” I ask irritably as I walk away from him and head for the fridge, opening it so I can check out what’s inside. I should offer Jade something to drink but all we have is beer and bottled water. Oh and a fifth of vodka in the freezer.
“Yeah, but now I’m seeing it in action. You looked ready to maul her in your car, man, which is stupid when you have a perfectly good house you can put to use.”
Couldn’t put the house to use with his ass in it. “You didn’t see shit,” I mutter, slamming the double doors of the refrigerator. I turn and face him. “Just…lay off tonight, okay? She’s skittish enough.”
“What do you mean, she’s skittish? Around you?” Tristan asks incredulously. “Give me a break. You usually have them tearing their panties off within minutes.”
I say nothing. He’s right. But Jade’s proven different from the moment we first met. She’s unlike any girl I’ve ever been with. Hell, I haven’t even been with her yet. I haven’t kissed her. We haven’t done shit but torture each other.
And it’s been pure torture. I had my chance and denied myself. Tonight that’s the last thing I want.
“So tell me.” I glance up when Tristan approaches. He leans against the kitchen counter, contemplating me. The smile is long gone, his expression serious. “What’s so different about this girl compared to the others? Is it only about the challenge? I can understand the appeal. She’s beautiful. And there’s something to be said for wanting what you can’t have.”
“I’ve always gotten whatever I wanted my entire life. So have you,” I tell him and he nods in agreement. “But there’s something about this girl that I think…might be worth waiting for.”
“Really.” Tristan’s voice is flat, downright disbelieving. “But what makes her so different, man? I don’t get it.”
I don’t either. I’m about to tell him that but then I hear the bathroom door open and I clamp my lips shut, not about to let Jade overhear our conversation about her. I turn to face her, watching as she enters the kitchen, her gaze everywhere but on mine.
“You all right?” I ask, looking over my shoulder real quick to discover Tristan is gone. Like a ghost. He’s good at that sometimes. Other times, his timin
g is for shit. Like out in the garage.
She smiles but she still won’t look at me. She seems fascinated by the oven that’s just behind me. “Your kitchen is gigantic.”
“Yeah, it is.” I try to see it through her eyes but it’s hard. I’ve lived here three years. I’ve come in and out of this kitchen every day to get to the garage and I don’t pay attention to shit. I don’t really ever hang out in the kitchen, beyond rushing in for a bag of chips or a beer. “You like it?”
She goes to the oven, her fingers drifting over the burner knobs. “It’s a professional range.”
“What?”
“The oven and stove. It’s professional grade. Like, out of a restaurant.” She touches one of the burners. “It looks like it’s never been used.”
“Probably, because it really hasn’t been. Tristan and I don’t cook much,” I admit.
“Such a shame.” She sighs, her gaze finally lifting to meet mine. “I like to cook,” she admits.
“Really?” I’m surprised. But then again, I’m not because I don’t know anything about this girl. Nothing.
Jade nods. “I really like to bake. Growing up, my grandma used to bake all the time and I would help her. I’m sure I was more a pain in her butt, but she was always so patient with me.” She smiles but it’s sad and her eyes get this far away look in them. “It’s one of my favorite memories of her.”
“What’s your favorite thing to bake?” Her grandma must’ve died but I don’t want to ask. The memories might be too painful.
“Homemade cookies. Cakes. My grandma made this chocolate cake that’s to die for.” Her smile grows. “I can bake a mean apple pie too.”
“A mean one versus a nice one?” I tease, wanting to make her laugh. I don’t like thinking about her sad.
She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. My grandma’s recipe is the best apple pie I’ve ever tasted. I even make the crust from scratch.”
“Wow, I’m impressed.” I take a step closer to her, catching her scent, warm and sweet. “So tell me. What’s a guy gotta do to get you to make him a chocolate cake from scratch?”
Fair Game (The Rules #1) Page 12
