Oh, fuck it.
Jayne climbed off the bed and made for the door, but as she passed the floor-to-ceiling mirror, she stopped. If she was going to do this, then she was all-in. She grabbed the hem of her nightgown and pulled it over her head. She crossed over to the chest of drawers and opened the top one. Nestled between her everyday underwear was the set she’d been wearing when they’d slept together for the first time. The only time.
She donned the lingerie and stood in front of the mirror once more. Her tan made the outfit look even sexier than the last time, although she wished she had a bit more up top. Still, Rupe hadn’t seemed to care, if memory served her right.
She opened the door to her stateroom and peeked into the corridor. Silence. There was a slight chance that she could bump into a member of staff, which would be highly embarrassing, but the risk was small, and Rupe’s room was less than forty feet away.
Holy hell, I’m doing this.
Jayne dashed down the corridor and knocked on Rupe’s door. She heard a scuffle from within before Rupe opened it.
“What the fu—”
Jayne cut off Rupe’s exclamation with her mouth. She hooked her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. Pulling back, she fixed a gaze on his startled expression.
“I’m ready,” she said.
26
Rupe eased Jayne’s legs to the floor. He hardened so quickly that his cock almost punched a hole in his sweatpants. He buried his hands in her hair and studied her face.
“Are you sure?” he said, hoping like fuck she didn’t say no and leg it again, because his right arm couldn’t take much more of a beating. His cock, on the other hand…
“Yes. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long, but I want you. I want this.” She swung her hand between them.
Rupe groaned as he caught her mouth. Jayne kissed him back, her tongue tangling with his. Jayne was no passive participant. She was a lady who liked to take her turn at leading, and right then, Rupe was so stunned by the turn of events that he happily acceded.
She leaned into him, pushing him towards the bed until the back of his knees hit the mattress. He sat down as Jayne straddled him, wearing the stunningly hot lingerie from the last time. He briefly wondered if she’d chosen it on purpose to remind him of their first time together.
He closed his eyes as her hands explored his chest. The touch of her fingertips against his burning skin was heavenly. She gently pressed her palms against his shoulders, and he lay down on the bed as she straddled him once more.
“See these?” She scraped a red-painted nail over his abdomen. “I want to lick every single muscle.”
Rupe reached behind his head and gripped the bed frame. “I’m not stopping you.”
Jayne bent over, and he inhaled a sharp breath as the tip of her tongue traced his abs. He hadn’t thought his cock could get any stiffer, but it seemed he didn’t know his body as well as he’d thought. The damn thing might as well have had a steel rod at its core. She began to make soft noises at the back of her throat that sounded like appreciation. Dear God, she was going to be the death of him.
With his abs still damp from the attention of her tongue, Jayne crawled up his body until her mouth was level with his, but she didn’t kiss him. She simply stared into his eyes, and as she did, a warmth spread through his veins because Jayne’s eyes held something deeper than lust.
“Will you do something for me?” Rupe said, his voice low and husky.
“Within reason,” she said with an amused grin.
He smiled. “Strip.”
She sat up and pointed at her lingerie. “You want these off?”
“Yeah,” he groaned.
Jayne climbed off the bed and nodded at his pants. “You first.”
Rupe yanked off the sweats. His erection sprang free, and as he lay back down, it stretched towards his midriff. When Jayne licked her lips, he almost came.
“Stroke,” she said, nodding at his cock as she slipped her garter belt down those impossibly long legs.
“Holy hell.” Rupe took hold of his erection and began to rub. He’d been with a lot of women who didn’t shy away from intimacy, but Jayne’s sexual confidence was off the freaking charts, and he loved it.
With his eyes following her every move, he began to pump harder as she removed her lingerie one piece at a time. He swore she was taking her time on purpose. “I’m going to come if you don’t get a move on,” he said through a clenched jaw as his balls tightened.
Jayne shimmied out of her thong, the last piece of her underwear, and straddled him once more. “You wanted me to strip. The least I can do is give you a show.”
In a flash, Rupe flipped her onto her back. She giggled, but he cut off her laughter with his mouth. She’d been in charge until that moment, but no longer. He gripped her chin, holding her head in place as he kissed her, while his other hand brushed her waist and moved over her hip before settling between her legs. As his fingers sought her wet heat, he let out a low moan. She wasn’t just wet—she was soaking. He slid two fingers inside her, crooking them slightly until he found what he was looking for. Jayne arched her back and tore her mouth from his, incoherent mumblings falling from her lips.
As his thumb found the tight nub at the apex of her thighs, touching wasn’t enough. He wanted to taste, to lick, to suck. His lips found her hard nipples, and he pulled each one, in turn, into his mouth. He slowly worked his way down her body and parted her thighs with his hands. With one large palm holding each of her legs wide apart, Rupe buried his head between them.
“Oh God.” Jayne bunched the sheets in closed fists. She didn’t take long. As she climaxed, she tried to ram her legs together, but he was having none of that. He pressed harder on her thighs and drew her clit into his mouth.
“It burns,” she muttered. “Too much.”
With a final sweep of his tongue over her slit, he crawled up her body. He reached for the drawer beside his bed and quickly located a condom. After sliding it down his length, he thrust hard, filling her in one sharp movement. Jayne cried out. He was about to hold still in case he’d hurt her, but she wrapped her legs around his waist, dug her nails into his backside, and tilted up her pelvis to greet him.
He kissed her, but as his thrusts became more urgent, he couldn’t keep their lips locked. Instead, he looked into her eyes. That was his undoing. An almost violent orgasm shot from the head of his cock. His vision blurred, white dots dancing in front of his eyes.
His head fell onto her shoulder as he waited for his cock to stop pulsating. He let his weight fall on Jayne for the briefest of moments before he rolled to the side. “Please don’t go.”
She turned on her side and folded both hands beneath her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jayne was quiet on the way to the airport, but Rupe guessed it was more to do with end-of-holiday blues than the fact that they’d spent a large proportion of the previous night and that morning exploring each other. She was gazing out of the window as the high-rises of downtown Miami swept past.
Rupe covered her hand with his. “Doing okay there, Janey?”
She twisted her head. “It’s going to be tough to go back to the way things were.”
A bolt of anxiety shot through his bloodstream. “What do you mean?” he said more sharply than he’d intended, which drew a raised eyebrow from her.
“Easy, tiger,” she said with a grin. “I didn’t mean you and me. I meant work, routine, London smog, instead of all this.” She glanced out of the window once more, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “And let’s face it, you’ll have to go back to work soon, which will make seeing each other a little tricky.”
Confused, he frowned. And then he remembered. She was thinking about the conversation they’d had a few days ago when he’d told her that he tended to work from his boat.
“Jayne,” he said softly. “Look at me.” She slowly turned her head, and Rupe leaned towards her until their foreheads were touching. “I think it’s t
ime I stopped moving around. And London isn’t so bad, although the weather is shit. We’d need to take quite a few holidays to make sure I get enough vitamin D.”
A smile spread across her face, and she unclipped her seatbelt and straddled his legs. Her hands curved around his neck, and she kissed him—gently at first, but as he trailed the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip, she deepened the kiss. Oh, man, he loved it when she took charge. But they weren’t far from the airport. He would have preferred to start something when they were airborne and tucked away in the bedroom on his plane.
He curved his hands around her face and eased her back. “One hour until we’re in the air. Then you’re mine.”
Jayne gave him a look of reprimand. “That sounds remarkably like a statement of ownership. You picked the wrong girl for that.”
Rupe grinned as he feathered his hands up and down her sides. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said, caressing her nose with his. “I think the tigress can be tamed with the right approach.”
She poked him hard in the ribs before twisting out of his arms. “I thought you liked my bite.”
“Oh, babe, I do. But I have the feeling I still need to work on making sure that bite only ever sinks into my flesh.”
Jayne threw back her head and laughed. “In that case, get to work, mister.”
27
Jayne couldn’t raise a smile when she walked into work the day after she and Rupe landed back in the UK. She was tired, grumpy as hell, jet-lagged, and already missing the man who had become far too important to her in a short space of time.
It had crossed her mind at least ten times in the last twenty-four hours that their relationship was moving too fast, but then she’d think about not being with him, and a pang would spread through her chest.
She hadn’t seen him since he’d dropped her off at her apartment the previous morning, and she missed him, which, when she thought about it, was bloody stupid. She was a grown woman, not a teenager. I can manage on my own quite well, thank you very much. Oh, but she ached for him. His absence had caused a great big hole to open up in her chest, and although she’d try to keep busy, she doubted work would fill it.
As she swept down the corridor, Donna rose from her desk, wearing a bright smile and holding a cup of coffee in an outstretched hand.
“It’s so great to have you back,” she said as Jayne took the paper cup from her. “You look amazing.”
“I feel like shit.” Jayne nudged open her office door with her hip. “Jet lag is a bitch.”
Chuckling, Donna followed her inside. “Well, you’ve got a fabulous tan. Did you have a good time?”
Jayne pointed at the chair opposite her desk, as she slid into her own behind it. “Lovely, thank you. Now, sit down and tell me what’s been going on around here,” she said, refusing to spill her guts about her holiday. Donna was great at her job, but she was also the head of gossip central, not just where Jayne worked but at several other law firms too. The law community was small and tight-knit.
Donna filled her in on the past ten days’ activities, and together, they went through Jayne’s calendar for the rest of the week. Thank God it was already Wednesday and she had a short week. That thought caught her off guard. On the odd occasion that she’d taken a holiday with Kyle, she’d always been chomping at the bit to get back to the office, regularly working the next several weekends to catch up. But while Donna droned on, Jayne tuned her out, her mind turning to the fit-as-all-hell billionaire she’d spent the last ten days with instead.
After she finally managed to shoo her assistant out of her office, Jayne gritted her teeth, put her head down, and got to work. Every now and then, she’d reach for her phone, make sure it wasn’t on silent, and then check to see if Rupe had texted her. When he hadn’t, she would swallow her disappointment and go back to her caseload.
At the end of an interminably long day—made worse because of an argument with a client who seemed to think he knew better than she did—Jayne made her way to the tube. Her feet were killing her. After ten days in flip-flops and flats, her corns did not appreciate being crammed into three-inch heels.
She picked up her post and took the lift upstairs. The second she set foot in her apartment, she kicked off her shoes. After grabbing a juice from the fridge, she slumped onto the sofa and let her head fall back, her eyes closing of their own accord. She’d known the first day back would be difficult, but as the last bit of energy drained from her, she began to wonder where her mojo had gone.
First-day-back-at-work blues, that’s all.
Jayne forced her eyes open and flicked through the post. Junk, bills, more junk. And then her tiredness was forgotten. At the bottom of the pile was a letter from her divorce lawyer. With shaking hands, she ripped open the envelope. As she scanned the letter, a sense of elation mingled with melancholy swept through her. The application for the decree nisi had been filed with the court. Although glad to be finally rid of the cheating bastard, she couldn’t help feeling a sense of loss at the time wasted. Seven years of her life spent on someone who had turned out to be the epitome of everything she abhorred. In three months, she’d have to tick the “divorced” box when forms asked for “marital status.”
She tossed the letter onto the coffee table and rose from the couch. Her stomach rumbled, but the thought of food wasn’t as appealing as a shower. She wanted to wash away the remnants of this crappy day. And Rupe still hadn’t called or texted her. But then, she hadn’t contacted him either.
What if, now that they were home, he’d changed his mind and decided that putting down roots in London wasn’t what he wanted after all?
Goddammit. She hated the uncertainty of new relationships—the way the mind played tricks, constantly throwing out multiple what-ifs. She hated the way that her confidence ebbed, making her question absolutely everything.
She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower. Turning the temperature right up, she stood under the punishing spray without moving, her head tipped forward as the water cascaded over her neck and down her back. After a few minutes, she began to feel human again as both doubt and grime disappeared down the drain.
She shrugged into a dressing gown and swaddled her hair in a towel. Digging her phone out of her bag, she went to call Rupe and then chickened out. A text would seem more casual, less needy.
She wrote and deleted several messages before deciding on something light and breezy: Hope your jet lag isn’t as bad as mine.
She added a smiley on the end. Maybe she should have ended it with a kiss. No, if she wanted to keep it casual, an emoji worked better. Dear God, I’m getting on my own nerves. Get a grip, Jayne.
She tossed her phone on the couch and went to dry her hair. When she returned half an hour later, she reached for it, her heart thundering as she checked out the screen. Two texts.
She opened the first: I missed you today.
And the second: I’m coming over.
Both texts had been sent one minute after hers. She jumped at a rap on the door, and her pulse jolted.
“Hang on,” she called out as she looked in the mirror and checked herself out. No time to put any makeup on. She tucked her hair behind her ears and strode across her apartment.
She drew to a halt in front of the door and took a deep breath. “Hi—”
Rupe cut her off as he curved his hands around her neck and kissed her. He leaned his body into hers, forcing her to walk backwards. She heard the door slam. When they broke apart, a ghost of a smile graced his lips, but it was eclipsed by the hunger in his eyes.
“I swear today lasted about a hundred hours.” He bent to peck her lips once more.
“At least you could sleep off your jet lag. I had to work.”
“Oh, my poor baby.” He slipped his arms around her waist. “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
“Why don’t I order something, and then you can tell me all about your day?”
“Sounds perfect.” She twisted out of hi
s arms and removed a bunch of take-out menus from her kitchen drawer. “What do you fancy?”
“Apart from you?”
She gave him a stern look. “To eat.”
Rupe chuckled. “Same answer.”
She tossed the menus at him. He managed to catch most, but a couple of them fluttered to the floor. “You are such an idiot,” she said with a scowl, which deepened when he laughed harder.
He picked up the fallen menus from the floor and flicked through them. “Jamaican jerk chicken it is, then,” he said, which made her laugh.
Jayne poured a couple of glasses of wine as her phone rang. Her eyes widened when she saw who was calling. “Hey, Mike,” she said, glancing at her watch and then at Rupe, who was wearing a puzzled look. “Is everything okay? It’s pretty late.”
“Yeah, sorry, Jayne,” Mike said. “I was wondering if you could swing by my office in the morning.”
“What for?”
“I have some news on the Vanessa Roberts death that you might be interested in.”
Jayne stood up straight. “Oh yeah? Have you found out what happened to her?” She mouthed “Vanessa” at Rupe, who immediately joined her in the kitchen. She put the phone on speaker, and set it down on the kitchen counter.
“Look, it’s a bit difficult over the phone. Face-to-face would be better.”
She shared a look with Rupe. “You’ve really piqued my interest. Any reason I can’t pop over now?”
“Yes, Jayne, there is. I have a wife and a daughter to get home to. Come and see me at nine tomorrow morning. And see if you can get hold of Rupert Fox-Whittingham. He should hear this too.”
Jayne winked at Rupe and placed a finger over his lips. “We’ll be there.”
The following morning, Jayne and Rupe were escorted to Mike’s office, their curiosity off the charts. They’d stayed up all night running scenarios, which might have been a useless waste of time but managed to keep them sane while they waited for dawn to break.
Mismatch Page 15
