by Maggie Wells
“Protect her from me.”
“No, from me,” she corrected. “A girl doesn’t get knocked up in high school without having a few fairly serious impulse control issues, you know.” Her lame attempt at a joke fell flat, so she went straight to the unvarnished truth. “I’ve always had a weakness for you.”
She had a hard time not laughing at the stunned look on his face. The man looked like she’d told him she liked to go skinny dipping with alligators.
“You have?”
“Lord, Jake, there wasn’t a girl in the tenth grade who didn’t moon after you in the hallways.”
“Bull.”
This time she did laugh. “It’s true. And the fact that you never even noticed only made you more attractive.” Taking advantage of his stillness, she reclaimed his hand. “Connie Cade calls you Dr. Dreamboat.”
“Did not need to know that,” he murmured, looking down at their hands.
She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “If Zelda Jo knew I was here in your car talking about going up to your place and doing the wild thing, she’d be using the jaws of life to cut us out of here and badger us all the way to the bedroom about doin’ and not talkin’.” He groaned and she turned his hand over in hers. With the tip of her finger, she traced the length of his lifeline along his palm. “So, you see, it’s better if we keep things casual.”
“Uh-huh.”
She caught his gaze and held on. “But make no mistake, I’ve thought about this. About you. And not because you chickened out on kissing me the other night.”
The words were barely past her lips before his mouth was on hers.
Good gravy, the man could kiss. And this one was everything their previous kisses promised—hot, sweet, and sure. And despite anticipating the last bit, his self-assurance still came as a surprise. Darla tended to think about Jake as the guy who got excited when he and Gracie talked about eclipses or solar flares, and always needed a couple extra wet wipes when he ate his barbecue. But the man kissing her wasn’t the quiet, unassuming Jake she thought she knew.
No, this was the guy who had a reserved spot on every list of Mobile’s most eligible, and this Jake was making plenty of assumptions.
He made them with his tongue. And, bless his heart, those perfect teeth. Darla moaned into his mouth, running greedy hands up the hard ridges of his back as he menaced her lower lip with those pearly whites. Humming deep in his throat, he abandoned the teasing torment and closed his mouth over hers in a move that left her no alternative but to surrender.
Their tongues swirled and parried. She bunched the fine wool of his jacket in her first when he sucked her into his mouth, demanding she take as well as give. Darla fell back, arching her back and all but dragging the man over the center console. Her head hit the door pillar with a thud. Much to her consternation, Jake pulled away.
“Are you okay?”
She almost purred when he slid his hand into her hair. Sure, he was looking for evidence of injury, but she’d take it. Criminy, he looked so hot poised above her, his dark eyes feverish with lust, brow knit with worry. His mouth was wet. His lips gleamed in the dim glow from the security lights. She could almost see the gears turning in his mind. And the last thing she wanted was him applying his damn reason and logic to what was happening right here and now.
Splaying her hands on his chest, she copped a feel rather than pushing him away. “I assume you have a bed up in that condo.”
His forehead smoothed and those kiss-dampened lips parted. “Yes. A big one.”
“Good.” Sliding her hands up into his hair, she pulled him down until their noses nearly touched. “Take me there. Now.”
* * * *
Jake was a little slow about a lot of things, but he had absolutely no trouble with following explicit instructions. He had Darla inside and at his door in two minutes flat. The stupid elevator took forever. He usually took the stairs, but she was wearing those skyscraper heels, and he didn’t think dragging her up three flights would be the gentlemanly thing to do.
Of course, Darla didn’t share his sense of fair play. She was all over him as he tried to fit the key into the lock, hands on his back, his hips, and yes, sliding over his ass. He clenched and she chuckled, pressing her cheek to his coat. Even in her ridiculous shoes, she barely reached the middle of his back. The woman was as dangerous as C-4. Soft, malleable, and explosive as all hell. And he couldn’t wait to light the fuse.
The second the door swung shut behind them, he threw the deadbolt, tossed his keys in the general direction of a side table, and swept her up into his arms.
Darla whooped and laughed, letting her head fall back in a fake swoon as she grasped his shoulders when he started toward the bedroom. “Why, Dr. Dalton, whatever do you intend to do with me?”
Amused by her antics, he gave only a non-committal chuckle as he strode into the room and dropped her onto the bed with a bounce. She yelped again, but this time in dismay. Her dress gaped, exposing a long length of thigh and most of one pale, smooth breast. To his surprise, his pint-sized seductress wasn’t clad in sexy satin and lace beneath that lethal weapon of a dress. He stared at the nondescript beige bra and his mouth ran dry. Over the past few years, he’d undressed women who seemed to have entire catalogs of lingerie. He’d learned to master push-up bras, lacy thongs, and even encountered one of those corset-looking things once. And though he appreciated the effort, and the view, those women would have been as shocked as he was to discover plain old beige satin did the trick, too.
Darla scrambled to right herself. He couldn’t help but smile as she jerked the hem down her leg. This was the same woman who’d been alternately seducing and stonewalling him for the past hour or more. Yet, beneath her bold talk and sexual bluster, she was a nice Southern girl born and bred. And that turned him on even more.
God, he hoped her panties didn’t match. Not because he was fond of beige, but because it would be different. Real. He’d be making love to a woman who hadn’t spent the entire day buffing and polishing herself for a dinner date. She had better things to do with her time and more important ways to spend her money. Yes, they’d been raised in the same more-than-comfortable circumstances. Taught the same manners. Most likely attended the same mind-numbing dance classes at Miss Celine’s, and swum in the same over-chlorinated country club swimming pool, but Darla’s life had veered sharply off-course. The lack of a safety net forced her to learn a whole new set of skills. Ones he found intensely attractive. She had purpose and determination and a kind of grittiness that made him itch to smooth those rough patches with his bare hands.
She also had the most beautiful tits he’d seen in he didn’t know how long, and he had passed his level of endurance light years ago. He needed to get his hands on them. Now.
She shifted from hip to hip to free the material trapped under her. Before she could cover herself, he planted one knee on the bed and batted her fluttering fingers away from the treasure he’d uncovered. Wide brown eyes met his. He pressed his palm to her cheek to still her, then slid his fingers down her throat. Her pulse thrummed against the pad of his middle finger. She swallowed, and he let his thumb dip into the hollow at the base of her throat.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her sweet pink mouth.
“Everything.” The word was barely more than an exhale, but she didn’t look away.
Jake climbed onto the bed fully clothed, loving the way she melted back onto the mattress as he advanced. “I’m gonna kiss you. Everywhere,” he whispered, almost lost in the very thought of tasting every inch of her skin. “Lick you.” He lowered his head until his mouth hovered over hers. In the car, she’d tasted faintly like wine, and though he was more of a beer guy, he’d gladly sip it from her until he was drunk. “I want to be inside you, Darla.”
Her low moan told him he was hitting all the right points.
Knowing he was taking a calculated risk, he shot for the mo
on. “Kiss you and lick you and make you come so hard you see stars.”
This time, she answered with more of a strangled keening noise. Jake opted to take it as a good sign. In the absence of absolute proof, all else was possibility.
“May I?” He brushed a coaxing kiss across her parted lips. His muscles quivered with the restraint it took to pull back rather than dive into her. “I want you so much.”
“Yes,” she answered with an eagerness that nearly made him jump right out of his skin.
High on her acquiescence and unwilling to risk any clumsiness on his part, Jake determined the best course of action was to take matters into his own hands. “Stay right here,” he ordered, then shoved himself up and off the bed.
Of course, Darla was never one to do as she was told. The minute he peeled himself off her, she rolled up onto her elbows. “Where are you going?”
“Right here.” Yanking at the knot in his tie, he loosened the knot enough to slip out of the noose.
“But I want to—”
“No.” He backed the refusal with a sharp shake of his head and started to work on his shirt buttons. Four down, he yanked the tails from his pants and hauled both his shirt and undershirt over his head in one jerk. Unfortunately, he forgot about his cuffs.
“Holy crap.”
Jake dropped his arms, the tangle of fabric twisted between his cuffed wrists. “What?”
Darla pushed into a sitting position, her eyes locked on his midsection.
Following her gaze, he dropped his chin to his chest. Too hairy? Not hairy enough? Did he have a third nipple he’d never noticed? “What’s wrong?”
“You’re ripped,” she said, pointing at his stomach.
Puzzled by the accusation in her tone, he looked down. “What? No, I’m not.”
“Okay, maybe not like bodybuilder ripped, but there’s definitely a six pack there.”
Before he could figure out why being fit might be a problem, she scooted to the edge of the bed and pressed one small hand to his stomach. He inhaled reflexively and she laughed full and throaty.
“Yeah, that’s right. Suck in your gut,” she teased. “Holy old crow, how does a guy who spends all his time messing with math problems with more letters than the alphabet end up looking like this?” Lifting her head, she narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ve seen how much you eat.”
Jake blew out the breath and let his shoulders drop. “I run most nights.”
Still eying him closely, Darla ran both hands up his arms to his biceps then squeezed. “Running doesn’t give a guy muscles like these. Neither does a gym.”
He gave one hand a tug, but as he feared, the shirt held fast. Figuring he might be able to distract her as he worked through the predicament, he shrugged. And flexed. Just a little bit. “I do some construction work in my free time.”
“Oh, yeah. Harley mentioned you’d been working with Home Again.” Darla hummed her appreciation as she ran her hands over his shoulders. “Smart, hot, ripped and a social conscience.” She batted her eyelashes. “I may swoon for real.”
“My hands are stuck in my shirt.”
Darla blinked, then her hands fell to her lap as she looked down at the snarl of material holding him captive. Pursing her lips, she studied his situation with concern so grave he could feel her laughter vibrating inside her. At last she tapped a finger to those rosy lips and drawled, “My, now this does present some interesting opportunities.”
“Darla—”
Undaunted by the warning in his tone, she reached for the buckle on his belt. He tried to block her with the shirts, but gave up with a groan when her knuckles grazed his dick. Closing his eyes, he let his head fall forward, then roll back. Darla dragged his zipper down, and there and then he realized his astronaut friends had the right idea. He needed to strap in, hang on, and go along for the ride.
Warm, moist breath stirred the hair on his stomach. The weight of his belt pulled at his suit pants. She slid one finger into the waistband of his boxer briefs and pressed her lips to one incredibly lucky patch of skin above his navel. She slid the teasing finger almost the full circumference of his waist. Almost, but not quite. He held his breath as she trailed the tip of that intrepid finger over the fabric covering his erection.
“What if I want you to see stars, too?”
“Keep that up and I’m pretty sure I will,” he answered in a rush.
She ran her fingertip over him again. “This?”
So the little bundle of dynamite he’d invited into his bed had a diabolical streak a mile wide. Well, he was okay with this kind of perversion. As long as she didn’t mind a premature blastoff. “I’m fairly keyed up right now.”
Dark brows jerked up and her hand fell back to the bed. “I’d better be careful, then.”
Lifting his hands, he offered up the bundle of fabric. “Help me out?”
Darla raked him with a heavy-lidded gaze. “Not yet.”
Before he could protest, she stood and covered his nipple with that ripe, hot mouth and sucked. Hard. His hips jerked and his arms flailed as much as his restraints would allow. She murmured soft words of sexy nonsense into the hair between his pecs, then gave him an appreciative nuzzle. Jake groaned aloud when she laid claim to his other nipple. She laved it, sucking the sensitized skin into her mouth and tonguing him exactly the way he wanted to do her. Then, sweet Jesus, she bit him hard enough to make him pump his hips against the fucking air in hopes of getting some relief.
The moment she let him go, he fell on her. They toppled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and twist of unshed clothing. Darla’s soft curvy body was heaven pinned beneath him. She gasped then groaned as he lined his dick up with the sweet notch between her legs. He took her mouth again, drawing her lips against his and running his tongue along her top one as they parted. All thoughts of finesse fled. The only thing that mattered to him was burying himself deep inside her.
Their tongues swirled and parried, each thrust matching the grinding rhythm of his hips. She panted and moaned, writhing beneath him.
“Pull your dress up.” He kissed her deeply, ensuring his order couldn’t be countermanded.
Darla did as she was told.
Pressing fevered kisses along her jawline, he thrust against the slick fabric of her panties in a mindless frenzy. Praying for a second lightning strike, he decided to push his luck to the very limit. “Push my pants down.”
The hands moving restlessly from his nape to his ass stilled, but only for a second. She started to work his pants and briefs down over his hips while continuing to push against him, creating the most maddening friction he’d ever felt.
“Stop. Wait.” His chest heaved against the soft pillow of hers. Frustration sparked from every synapse as he dropped his forehead to the bed beside her. He yanked as hard as he could, willing to sacrifice the shirt if it meant he’d have freedom. Unfortunately, he was thwarted by quality craftsmanship. Pushing up onto his knees, he surrendered the last of his dignity. “There’s a condom in my pants pocket.”
Darla didn’t waste any time plunging her hand into one, then the other pocket, but he wasn’t home free. She turned her head toward his, but he refused to relinquish his view of the comforter. “I thought you weren’t expecting to sleep with me tonight?”
He heaved a sigh that traveled from his toes on up. “I wasn’t expecting, but a guy can hope.”
Lucky for him, Darla seemed inclined to accept his logic. In short order, she had the condom in hand and he had his pants constraining his thighs even more than his shirt held his hands. He would have vowed vengeance on every article of clothing he owned if he hadn’t heard a very promising crinkle and tear.
He yanked on the shirt sleeves again. “Jesus, Darla, help me out here.”
“I’m trying. Hold still,” she commanded. But instead of going to work on his cuffs, she rolled the cap of the condom over the head of his dick.
Jake hissed as if he’d been scalde
d, then pushed into her grip, helping as much as a helpless man could when a beautiful woman had him almost where he most wanted to be. “Please. Oh, shit, please.”
“Please what?” she asked, stroking him so gently he almost lost himself entirely.
“Please anything. Everything.” He lifted his head when he felt her shift beneath him. Pressing up further, he saw her hook a finger under the elastic leg of her panties and pull them aside. “What? Oh, God,” he groaned, knowing there was no way in the heavens or on earth he’d be able to resist what she was offering. “But I—”
“Later, you can kiss me some more. Lick me, too,” she offered with a magnanimous smile. Then she hooked a leg over his and urged him down onto her. “But for now, I’d say this seems fair.”
She was hot and slick. Ready even though he’d done nothing to get her there. Gritting his teeth, he sank into her, feeling the brush of her hand along his length as she held her panties well out of the way. Red panties with white stars on a field of blue along the edges. His mind whirred as he lay buried deep inside her, surrounded by her warmth. He swallowed hard, trying to regain a modicum of control. But then he recalled a glimpse of a pair of winged W’s printed on the bunched fabric of her panties and all the pieces fell into place. Peeling his chest off hers, he peered down at the spot where their bodies joined, then back up at her face.
Searching her eyes, he marshaled the strength to ask what he feared might become the most important question of his life. “Are you wearing Wonder Woman underpants?”
She gave breathless laugh then a tiny shrug. “Date night.”
Then, Jake Dalton, the man who believed wholeheartedly in moderation and self-control, came completely unraveled.
Chapter 8
Oh, God, he was big, and hot, and holy moly, she finally understood what that singer meant about someone’s body being a wonderland. She couldn’t stop touching him. Everywhere.
