by Dawson, Zoe
“Because I had planned it with my girlfriend and, fuck, I didn’t want to go without her. Okay?”
“You miss her?”
“I really screwed up.” Moisture gathered in his brother’s eyes and he rubbed at his stubble. “I should have paid more attention to her. But I was too fucking busy making money, living the high life like I always wanted. Now it doesn’t mean shit. I was going to propose to her. I have the ring and everything.”
“You’re in love with her.”
“It doesn’t matter now. She left me. She was the best freaking thing that ever happened in my life.”
“Why haven’t you gone after her?”
“Let me ask you something. You come here and borrow my dog for this dancing competition. What is going on with that girl?”
“Nothing. Don’t drag me into this.”
“Then why you so hot under the collar about Daisy?”
Jared looked away.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Nate said smugly. “Don’t preach to me, brother, when you haven’t roped your own filly.”
Jared took a deep breath to keep from punching his brother in the face.
“Okay, let’s get back to Daisy, then. Did she start acting this way after your girlfriend…what’s her name?”
He swallowed hard. “Pru—Prudence.”
“After Pru left, then.”
Nate stood there for a moment, his face full of the agony he felt. “You know? I think so.”
“So she’s been living with someone who is depressed, and she misses Pru, who probably was the one who gave her all the affection.”
“Yeah, I’m a mean sumbitch. Why don’t you just come out and say it?”
Jared felt bad for his brother. “Nate, you’re not mean, you’re just selfish.”
“Oh, like that’s better,” Nate scoffed.
“It is, because now you see what your selfishness has gotten you.”
He sighed. “Nothing.”
“Exactly. So stop wallowing in your misery. You’re Texan and a Taylor. Go after her.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid she’ll say no.”
“Dad would slap the back of your head and tell you to get up the gumption and do what is right.”
“Yeah, ole’ Roy, he’s quite a daddy. I miss that old man.”
“That old man is only a plane ride away.”
Nate nodded, acknowledging that he should really visit their daddy. “And to woo Pru?”
“If I’m any judge of women, flowers, and if I was you, I’d pull out the kneepads, because this will involve a lot of groveling.”
“If it gets her back, I’ll crawl on my belly. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What are you going to do about Dr. Poe?”
“My situation is much more complicated than making up for some selfishness.” He turned to go, but stopped at the door. “Nate.”
“Yeah.”
“Give me a call sometime. We’ll go out for a beer.”
Nate chuckled, and for the first time since Jared had been in New York, he actually sounded optimistic. “Yeah, okay, brother. I’ll do that.”
Back in his truck, Jared sat there staring out the windshield. His brother’s words crowded the back of his mind. What was he going to do with Poe? He knew what he wanted to do with her.
He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to roll over and find her in his bed lying next to him, all soft and Goth, pierced and tattooed. He wanted to take her dirty and sweet, take her any way he could get her and every way he could dream up—and since he’d become a man, he’d dreamed up plenty of ways.
Hell, ever since she’d damn near taken him into total meltdown in the kitchen, he wanted her bad.
But his conscience, damn it to hell, would worry him from now until he died if he took advantage of her. She was scared. She was vulnerable. How could he ever be sure she wasn’t reacting to the situation more than she was reacting to him?
And, a distraction while he was trying to protect her. If anything happened because he wasn’t focused, he would carry that guilt forever, like he carried his guilt over the men in his unit who had lost their lives when he’d made an error in judgment.
Oh, they said it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t have predicted it, but he’d run so many security scenarios that day, he should have predicted it and had a contingency ready. Instead of drumming him out of the Corps, they pinned a medal on his chest.
He put the truck in gear and headed back to her apartment. Once inside, the first thing he saw was a rat on the fire escape loitering near a half-open window.
The second thing he noticed was that half-open window exactly the inch a certain Jack Russell needed. Allan, his ears pricked and clearly on full alert, stared at the rat. And then he remembered that Jack Russells were bred specifically to eradicate vermin.
“Allan, no!” Jared hollered.
Allan turned to look at him, then back at the rat, then at him again. The look said, sorry, buddy, but I’m chasing that rat! It’s what I was bred for, so talk to the tail!
The mutt lunged forward, but Jared got a hand on his collar in time. He had to grab Edgar as he also raced past. He put them in Poe’s room, but before he could close the door, Allan wiggled out, raced back toward the window, and was already halfway through the opening when Jared tripped on a dog toy and took a header.
“Allan,” he called, but the dog was on the hunt, had the rat’s scent, and there simply was no stopping a tenacious terrier.
Jared didn’t hesitate. He jumped up, threw open the window, stepped out, and then closed it tightly behind him. All he needed was for Daisy and Edgar to get out and have all three dogs racing down the street after the rat.
He saw Allan working his way down the fire escape and Jared bolted forward, taking the metal stairs two at a time. When Allan ran out of metal stairs, he simply jumped and landed hard in the alley below. Not even breaking his stride, he took off. Jared released the ladder and, instead of climbing down it, he slid to the ground and ran full-out after Allan.
He swore softly as he saw the dog rush across the street. Thank God it was empty of traffic, but he was heading into busier streets, and it looked like it was going to rain again. Jared had to catch him, fast.
Still running full-out, Jared got close to Allan, but he was still too far away to grab him. He leapt forward, but missed the dog literally by inches. Allan didn’t make a sound, exactly as Russells are born and bred to do . The rat knew he was after him, though. That critter ran full-out too.
Soaked with sweat, his elbow smarting from what was surely a scrape from the concrete, Jared rounded the corner and ran right into a dog walker. The dogs went crazy and Jared got caught in their leashes, while the dogs’ nails delivered a few more scrapes. Finally he disentangled himself, and apologized profusely as he ran away.
Allan zipped down an alley, and Jared could smell Chinese food. He caught another glimpse of Allan’s small, white body when he stopped to sniff around a dumpster. He wriggled underneath before Jared could get hold of him. Damn him and his little stubby tail. Jared tried to crawl underneath, but the stench overwhelmed him and his gag reflex kicked in. He held his breath and crammed himself underneath, only to see Allan shoot out the other side of the dumpster.
Swearing, he tried to wriggle back out and got stuck. Through brute force and probably a scrape on his back, he got free and took off after the elusive, tenacious, speed-demon dog again.
That’s when the leaden sky opened up and drenched him to the skin. He saw the rat heading for the sewer grate and with water already rushing through the sewers, Jared knew how dangerous it would be for the small dog. There was no doubt. He was going to leap after that rat.
He accelerated, knowing how deeply Poe loved her Terrible Twos. He couldn’t let her down. He launched himself through the air and slid on the slick street, scooping up Allan just as he launched himself right toward the sewer after the rat.
Jared’
s back hit the curb, and several people, standing on the sidewalk under a restaurant’s awning, clapped and a flash went off. Great, New Yorkers taking freaking pictures.
He curled his fingers through Allan’s collar, tucking the wriggling animal under his arm. He waved to the crowd and headed down the street with Allan, who was now barking his fury at the lost rat.
When he got back to Poe’s apartment, he took Allan directly into the bathroom and ran the water in the tub. The dog was filthy. After scrubbing him clean and drying him off, Jared let him go, let Edgar and Daisy out of Poe’s room, and headed back to the bathroom, stripping down. He assessed the damage.
There were scratches on his face, a scraped elbow and tender hands, but his skin was tough. When he turned around to survey his back, he saw he had a bruise starting to show, but no raw skin.
That was at least something.
He used hydrogen peroxide on his scrapes and cuts and turned to the shower. Getting inside, he sighed at the hot water, washing away the dirt and the sweat. That freaking little dog could boogie.
Shutting off the water, he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist.
“Jared!”
She burst through the bathroom door. “Allan?”
“He’s fine. I’ve already given him a bath.”
“You saved him.”
“How do you know?”
“Callie. She was having lunch with her brother. She called and I left work. She got a picture of you sliding on the wet pavement in the rain, scooping up my sweet boy.”
Totally without warning, she ambushed him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and then tugged him closer, bumping his hips and eliciting a tortured groan.
He slipped his hand underneath that silky, silky hair to her nape. She clasped his face in her hands and pulled his head down. She kissed him, filling it with all the gratitude she was feeling and something more, something that had heat at its core that was waiting for the right moment to explode. It was the moment. She kissed him so honestly, so easily, his own barriers began to crumble, ones he hadn’t even been aware were there.
And he kissed her back, just went for it and fully indulged himself in the taste and feel of her hot, wet mouth.
He kissed her more deeply, until she was making those soft little moans that drove him crazy. Then he was sliding his hands down over her hips and tugging her thighs, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist and let him press the rock-hard length of his dick more deeply between her thighs. Sweet almighty, he might never have enough of her.
And then she was kissing him back, voraciously, hooking her ankles at the base of his spine, urging him closer. Once again, they had too many layers on between them.
Then the fog cleared. What was he doing!? Sweet geezus, he promised he wouldn’t do this.
“Hold on,” he told her, wrapping one arm around her back, the other hand around the nape of her neck, trying to disengage her mouth. But it fused again to his as he stumbled them backwards, hitting the bathroom wall.
The impact jarred her loose, his back throbbed with pain, but he barely felt it. She grabbed for his shoulders, her ankles slipping down over his backside.
“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.
“Trying to be a gentleman.”
“Screw that,” she teased, tilting her head to allow him access to her throat.
He let her feet drop to the ground as he turned them so he could try to extricate himself. “Poe, we can’t.”
She smiled up into his eyes. “I know. I have no business getting sidetracked by you, much less letting you get sidetracked by me. But sometimes to hell with what we should do. Spontaneity needs to be set free, especially yours, Mister Square Man.”
He took a deep breath, reminding him of her body so soft and pliant against his, her scent driving him wild.
“I have two tats. I’ll show them to you.”
“You are as tenacious as your terriers.”
She grinned without remorse. “If it gets me what I want, I can be relentless.” She grabbed the towel, and he grabbed her hand. She tugged, hard. He tugged back.
She grinned. “Are you playing hard to get?”
He barely held it together. And he wasn’t sure if he was talking about himself or the towel.
He swatted at her, but she held on and tugged again. “One of them is on my firm and sexy ass.”
He groaned again, because Poe couldn’t say that without blushing to the roots of her hair, and it only made him want her more.
She tried to reach under the towel, but he sidestepped her.
“Oh, you’re fast. But I want you, Jared.” She looked at him, her eyes full of tortured passion. “Make love to me.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “I want you, too. But I’ll want more than that.”
“Maybe if you only wanted me for my body, this would be easier.” She rubbed her face against his.
“Yeah, it might be. But that’s not the case.”
She smiled. “Stop being a gentleman and take me like a mad hatter at his crazy tea party.”
He laughed. “Mad is the right word.”
His direct answer, coupled with his very direct gaze, seemed to catch her off-guard. He wasn’t flirting now. And she knew it.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” she said. “But, I know exactly what I want to do with you.”
There was that sly grin of hers again, and he braced himself for a Poe-sized whammy. “The other tat is on my breast.”
You are so fucking crazy, he told himself, even as he tightened his hold on her shirt and pulled her closer. It was crazy to kiss her after promising himself that he would hold off. Crazy to kiss her after confessing how much he wanted her ‘cuz he was trying to not have sex with her, but that possibility was rapidly becoming a hot and insane mess of a reality. He didn’t have the high ground here, no tactical advantage, and no good reason on earth to kiss her, except for the low ache in his body that could only be relieved by getting close to her—really close. He wanted to get inside her. Poe was on full assault and there was only one way a man was trained to handle this kind of full body attack.
He pulled on her shirt until her hips came up against his, but he kept the other hand on his towel. “Touch me,” he said in a ragged whisper, “and this is all over.”
She closed her eyes. “Gee-whiz, make it hard on a girl.”
“Oh, it’s hard enough,” he said in that same gruff voice.
Then he backed her up against the wall and all thoughts of advantage, tactical or otherwise, disappeared. He held her dark-eyed gaze, and heat coiled low in his belly. She was more beautiful than he had a right to. He let his gaze drift over her face, memorizing every curve. When his attention settled on her mouth, he could tell she felt it. She softened with a slight intake of her breath. Whatever else was going on between them. However this turned out. He couldn’t regret this moment. She wanted his kiss as much as he wanted hers.
She wanted to get inside him, too, inside his head and his heart. Little did she know, she was already there, already dug the trenches, and set up camp.
Pulling her even closer, he lowered his head and took her mouth, slanting his lips across hers and seeking entrance with his tongue. Her response was immediate, a soft gasp of pleasure, and he took the kiss home, slipping inside and finding his own piece of heaven. And, geezus, but it was sweet.
Her hands came up behind his neck, her fingers tangling through his wet hair, and he opened his mouth wider, taking more of her—and knew a single kiss wasn’t going to be enough.
Her mouth was like her, lush, enticing, erotic. She moved against him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her mouth angling over his and creating a brief moment of suction, and his already hard dick managed to get harder.
Her kiss was enough to undo him. They’d barely begun and he was already primed to take her to the edge. She made a sound in the back of her throat, the kind of sound guaranteed to focus a man’s attention.
He slid his hands up under her shirt, one smooth sweep of his palms up to her bra, and for a second, she stopped breathing. He rubbed his thumbs across her nipples, making them pebble. The result of his need to feel the wonderful soft weight of her breasts in his hands and the amazing texture of lace over silken skin, she groaned in his mouth.
The sound shot through him like wildfire. Geezus! He knew lust, and it was certainly running hot through his veins, but there was something more. Something beyond the burning ache he felt for her. Something fiercer, with an edge of desperation he was trying to ignore and could barely comprehend. If it was love, he didn’t want to know.
Kissing her was making him crazy. Her mouth was hot and wet and had gone from sweet to demanding. She wanted more and he obliged, gently sucking on her tongue, setting a rhythm he matched with his hips.
With a quick and powerful move, he gathered her in his arms and strode out of the bathroom, losing his towel in the process. He made it to her room and shut the door with his heel.
In slow increments, he guided her down his body until she was on her feet and panting. He pulled her top off over her head, and the black lace covering her breasts made his cock pulse, but what made him groan was the raven created out of the word Nevermore just above the slope of her breast. He reached around her and unsnapped the bra with one hand, and bared her breasts to his gaze. He covered her nipple with his mouth and she gasped and arched into him.
He sucked at her taut nipple, one hand going to the small of her back and arching her harder against his mouth as he consumed her, biting and sucking. He moved back to her mouth, her lips so soft and pliant, a sure sign that she was lost in the pleasure he was giving her.
His hands went up under the plaid schoolgirl skirt she wore, then slid his fingers slowly beneath her underwear and began moving in the moist folds of her sex. The kiss came to a sudden, heart-catching stop, leaving both of them standing very still, breathing into each other’s mouth, hardly daring to move.
She cried out as his fingers moved on her, her hands sliding up his arms, curling around his taut biceps.
“God, you are so soft,” he murmured against her lips. “So beautiful.”
