Bad Wolf

by Jo Raven

  “One minute.” I turn toward the kitchen, and my purse slips from my shoulder to the floor with a quiet flop.

  He bends and grabs it, though he doesn’t give it back to me, instead watching me with that lazy half-grin, and his eyes hooded.

  Whoa. Get yourself together, Amber.

  I hurry to the kitchen and pour him a glass from the tap. When I turn, he’s right behind me, and I yelp when he grips my arm to stop me from dropping the glass and harming myself as I flail.

  “Jesus, JJ.”

  “You make me thirsty,” he whispers, pries the glass from my nerveless fingers and places it on the counter. “Can’t stop thinking about you.”

  Then he puts his hands on the counter on either side of me and hems me in, pressing his long, taut body into mine. His face dips and his firm, warm mouth closes over mine. Pressure, heat, and when my lips part under the onslaught, his tongue thrusts inside, and I melt in his hold.

  Chocolate and spice, bitter and sweet and scorching, so hot I can’t help the small sounds rising from my chest. I grab his arms, nails digging into his biceps, because I feel as if I’m falling from a skyscraper, tumbling into a dark void.

  He breaks the kiss and I stare, dizzy, into his sea-colored eyes. “Damn, girl…” He shakes his head, struggling for breath as I am. “Can’t control myself around you.” He shifts, and his arousal presses into my side, branding me through the dress.

  Makes me catch my breath on a gasp.

  “I came to take you to the wedding,” he rasps, lifting a hand to my face, staring into my eyes, “and to make you see I want to be with you. I know you’re having doubts, that it was a one-night stand to you, that it means nothing—but it does mean a lot to me. I’ve never felt like this before. Fuck, I’ve never asked this of any girl before, but can you…?” He groans, bending over me. “Christ, Embers.”

  He takes my mouth again, before I have a chance to comprehend what he’s telling me, and pushes me up until I lift myself and wrap a leg around him, my ass propped on the edge of the counter.

  Be with me. Never felt this way before. Never asked—

  Wait. One-night stand? Did he overhear what I said to Kayla –was that why he left without saying goodbye last time?

  I push on his chest to break the kiss, to say something, but he shoves my short dress up and his big hand slips underneath it, rough and warm, right between my spread legs. His questing fingers push under my underwear and find my clit.

  “Oh God,” I moan against his lips. “JJ…”

  Need washes through me like a flash flood, making my toes curl and my legs tense. My breasts ache, and I throb inside, clenching on empty. I need… need him. My body is on fire.

  “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing two fingers deep into me, his mouth moving to the corner of my mouth, then along my jaw and down my neck, leaving hot kisses and the sharp nip of his teeth.

  I’m coming apart. The pressure is skyrocketing, my body tightening, tensing as he expertly takes me to the brink, fingers pumping, his thumb circling my clit, his mouth marking the juncture of my neck and shoulder—a counter beat of pain that plunges me without warning into a mind-blowing orgasm.

  Biting my lip to keep quiet, I still can’t keep back a moan as the pressure reaches a breaking point, and I clench around his fingers, coming in long shudders, rocking against him.

  On, and on, and on.

  “Kitten… You okay?”

  I hum an affirmative, unable to speak just yet. We stay like that, his face buried in my neck, me clutching at him, trying to come back to earth, shivers running down my spine. I’m fully seated on the counter by now, legs wrapped around his hips, and when he shifts again, uncomfortably, his massive hard-on pokes me where I’m still throbbing pleasantly.

  “Oh God.” I bite my lip harder when he groans softly and rocks, rubbing his hardness over the soaked lace of my panties.

  Suddenly the crazy orgasm I’ve just had isn’t enough. I need him inside me right now. I reach for the fly of his pants, and he pulls back a little, his eyes so dark they look black. When my fingers brush over his trapped erection, he jerks and grunts.

  I grip the zipper. “What do you want—”

  “You,” he says without hesitation and puts his hand over mine, shoving it down so that I unzip his fly. “How about you? What do you want, kitten?”

  Bold, as I always am around him, I pull the zipper down all the way and slide my fingers into his pants. “This.”

  But we both gasp, because—surprise, surprise—he’s going commando, and my hand finds the velvet skin of his hot, diamond-hard cock.

  He’s panting harshly now, sweat making his brow gleam. We’re locked in a frozen time-frame, my hand wrapped around his hard-on, and he leaning with one hand on the counter, the other sliding up my arm.

  A heartbeat passes. Then another, a vein beating on the underside of his cock fluttering against my palm. I rub my thumb up and down the soft skin, so deliciously stretched over a core of steel, and he whimpers as if he’s in pain.

  “Embers,” he hisses, teeth gritted. “Can you just… Goddammit.”

  I’m pulling his cock free of his pants, not an easy process. He’s big, and very hard. I end up undoing the button of his fly, opening his pants all the way.

  He gives a heartfelt groan when I stroke him from root to tip, his eyes falling shut. I do it again, fascinating by the thickness of his shaft, the softness of the head, the wet spilling from the small slit, the small twitches it gives as I tug on it.

  Fascinated by the sounds coming from Jesse with every stroke, the way his arm shakes and his hand clutches the back of my head like he has no control over his muscles. His jaw is slack, his lips parted. His eyes open when I tug on him harder. He lifts them to meet my gaze, but they are unfocused and heavy-lidded.

  I trace the ridge behind the head of his cock, and his hips buck forward, a choked moan leaving his throat.

  “Fuck…” He’s trembling, rocking into my hand. “No.”

  And with that, he draws back, forcing me to let go, then grabs me under the thighs and lifts me up.

  I squeal, totally unprepared for this sudden change. “What are you doing?”

  “Hang on.”

  That’s exactly what I do. I wrap myself around him like a starfish, only too aware of his hardness trapped between us, its heat seeping through my panties.

  “JJ…”

  “One sec.”

  His hands hold me up like I weigh nothing. He turns, carrying me over to the kitchen table. Bending his knees, he settles me on it and sweeps off with one hand everything on it. Distantly I hear something crash to the floor—and then he’s pulling down my panties, spreading my legs and bending over me, the head of his cock kissing my entrance.

  A long, hot, wet kiss, and my folds part under the insistent pressure, letting him in.

  Oh my God. Holy crap. I cling on to him, my back arching over the table, as he slides home, inch by unbearably pleasurable inch. My eyes are falling close as my body shakes, an overdose, but I stubbornly keep them open, needing to see his face.

  His dark brows are drawn together, a deep crease between them, and sweat clings to his long lashes in crystal drops as he holds himself still for an endless moment.

  Then he draws back, his cock doing a slow drag against my inner walls, only to slam back in.

  We both cry out. He lowers himself over me until his face is directly over mine. He captures my mouth, kissing me hard, while he does the withdrawing-and-thrusting-back-inside thing. Again. And again.

  He fills me up, possesses me like no one else has. His hard cock inside me burns, stretching me as far as I can go, but it’s good. So good I want to cry. Pleasure of this magnitude should be illegal. A boy so sexy should be outlawed.

  A boy so kind.

  But he breaks the kiss, lifts up on his hand, doing a reverse push up, thrusting a little bit deeper, a little bit better—and the fleeting thought is swept away in the torrent of pleasure a
s my body convulses. My core closes in around his cock, tightening like a steel coil, cutting off my breath.

  He grimaces, his movements growing faster, frantic. He swells inside me and he lets out a pained groan, his mouth falls open…

  Stars burst behind my eye lids—I didn’t realize they’d fallen shut—and I manage to whisper his name before I shatter into a million pieces.

  “Hey, kitten.” He’s in the bathroom, drying his hands with a towel, his eyes bright, a small smirk on his lips. He crooks a finger at me. “Come here.”

  “We’re late.” I fuss with my dress. Crazy that we never got undressed. The shiny fabric falls flawlessly over my hips and thighs. No sign that he pushed it up and made me come on the kitchen counter, then fucked me on the table.

  Oh God, that was…

  “Embers.” He catches me in two strides, throwing the towel on the rack, and cups my face in both his hands. “Look at me.”

  “Why?” I have no choice by to lift my eyes to his, and I tumble into their depths—a starburst of moss green against smoky gray with flecks of gold. It’s dizzying, so I place my hands on his hips to steady myself.

  “Because.” He leans in and drops a soft kiss on my mouth. So warm. So unbearably sweet and full of promises of tenderness that a knot forms in my throat.

  “Now you’ll tell me you’ve never done this before, either,” I whisper, my voice rough. Because I sure as hell haven’t, and it makes me nervous. I’m falling deeper and deeper for him. “And I…”

  “I haven’t,” he says, his hands shifting on my cheeks, cradling my jaw, his gaze clear and honest. “Any of this. And certainly not this.” He bestows one more kiss on my lips, the briefest caress, and there comes that faint smile no one can fake. Boyish, innocent, full of happiness.

  Shooting me straight through the heart.

  We’re late for the wedding, but right now I don’t care. I smile back and we just hold on to each other.

  Could he be serious about this? About wanting to be with me? Give up on one-night stands, stop hooking up with the hordes of girls lusting after him? How can I believe a sex god like Jesse Lee will keep his word?

  Has he even given me his word?

  Does it matter?

  “You’re trembling,” he whispers, and he pulls me to him, crushes me to the wall of his muscular chest. His heart thuds steadily against my ear. “Are you okay? Is it because of wedding reception?”

  I say nothing, letting him think that’s the cause. I’m afraid, but the reception is the last thing on my mind right now.

  Though that’s going to change, soon. The reception. People. Noise.

  Oh God, why did I ever agree on going?

  Well, at least it will take my mind of the fear of falling for Jesse and the mess I’m getting myself into. Have gotten myself into, ever since I met him.

  “Let’s go,” he says, squeezing me one last time but keeping one arm around me as he starts walking us to the living room. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you down.”

  At the reception, or in this thing happening between us?

  Don’t ask, Amber.

  I’ve always been insecure, and frankly, bullying hasn’t helped things, but I have to at least hide it. Get over it. Fight it. Take this a day at a time, read nothing into the fact he’s still holding on to me as I grab my purse and wedding gift, and we make it out the door. That he holds my hand down the stairs and while waiting for a cab.

  Or even that once in the back seat of the car he puts his arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple, then rests his cheek on my hair, rubbing it like a big cat.

  Read nothing into this at all, and live for the now.

  If only my heart would listen.

  The wedding is being held at the Gates of Heaven shelter in James Madison Park, near Lake Mendota. The shelter itself is a beautiful nineteenth-century synagogue, and when I see a crowd at the entrance, my stomach sinks.

  “Do you think we missed the wedding?” I ask as Jesse pays the cab and we get out.

  “Nah. Everyone’s looking this way. I think the groom and bride have been delayed.”

  He’s right. Besides, it seems we’re doing this out in the open. There are flower stands with ribbons fluttering in the breeze set on the side of the synagogue, on the grass, lit up with spotlights. As the evening light is fading, the flowers seem to float on the air and their scent drifts over us, ghostly.

  Roses and lilies. I breathe in their scent, mingled with grass and the freshness of water from the lake. Familiar faces and a blue Mohawk draw my attention. Clustered around a table decked in white cloth are Ev, Micah, and Kayla, and the guys I met at our party.

  The party where I met Jesse—who had just been sucked off by a blonde in the bathroom.

  Stop thinking about that. He says he wants to try with you. He didn’t know you then, so why hold it against him?

  Because… Come on, Amber. Do you really think you’ve miraculously changed him? You? The wallflower at parties? The boring jewelry maker? Where every other girl has failed?

  Shit.

  A table with the wedding presents stands by the synagogue entrance, and I drift toward it.

  “Wait up.” A second later, Jesse is by my side, his arm back around my waist.

  I admit I’d not expected this. Not in front of everyone. It’s as if he’s telling them we’re together, and it has to be a first, if the shocked looks on their faces are any indication.

  “So showing me a good time means holding on to me?”

  “Busted.” He winks at me and grins. “I like holding on to you. Don’t you think we’d have a good time fused together?”

  God, yes. But I shake my head, unable to keep from smiling. This boy…

  I place my wrapped up package with the rest, and glance up at him. “Your gift?”

  “I haven’t bought it yet.” He rubs the back of his neck and winces. “I didn’t want to ask for your help with that, too. Gotta man up and do it, right?”

  Laughter bubbles up my throat. “Man up and buy some baby clothes?”

  He shoots me a crooked smile and shrugs.

  And here I am, making fun of him for something he can’t help. This from a person who needs help to get through a party without getting into a panic.

  Nice job, Amber.

  Before I get a chance to apologize—and how didn’t I think he’d need help to buy a present if he had trouble going out to buy clothes for himself?—a murmur goes through the small crowd. A white limo is arriving, and going out on a limb, I’d say the bride and groom have arrived.

  The door of the car opens, and a tall, broad-shouldered guy in a dark suit steps out. His hair is short and spiky, and even from the distance I can tell his eyes are very pale. He’s very handsome.

  “That’s Asher Devlin,” Jesse whispers in my ear, sending goosebumps all over my skin. His arm is solid around me. He points at the tall, blonde girl who steps out of the other side. “And that’s—”

  “Audrey.” I nudge him in the ribs. “Duh.”

  He laughs. “Actually, that’s Tessa, Audrey’s best friend and bridesmaid.”

  Oh. Tessa is tall and willowy, like a supermodel, and her short red dress shows off her endless legs. Whoa. A bridesmaid straight out of Bridal Guide.

  Not that I feel short and ungainly.

  Okay, I do. I mean, who wouldn’t, in my shoes?

  “That’s Audrey,” Jesse says as Asher helps out of the limo a small redhead with a tiara on her head, clad in a long white dress, and holding a baby. “And that’s Scott, the little brat.”

  A funny note in his voice makes me look up. He’s grinning affectionately, and he looks almost… wistful.

  Whoa, back up a sec… “You like kids?”

  “Love kids. They’re so damn funny. And so small and defenseless. I feel a need to protect them, you know?” He draws me closer to his side without looking away from Audrey and the baby, an unconscious move.

  A protective move—and crap, I think I’ve fa
llen a little bit more for him.

  If I take a step back and think about this, I have to admit I like this boy. I want him. I crave his company, his touch. I love talking with him.

  And that only serves to drive the point home… Holy crap, this isn’t just a crush. I’ve fallen in love with him. When did this happen?

  Probably from the very beginning, I realize, reeling a little. With every word he said, every gesture he made.

  Like his arm around me now.

  A tall, blond guy with the shoulders of a quarterback and two little boys by his side arrives to take Tessa’s hand. Dylan, I think, trying to recall everyone’s names. And his little brothers. He’s Tessa’s boyfriend.

  Then applause rises from the gathering as Asher leads his radiant bride and their baby son to the simple altar. Their friends gather around, clapping them on the back and talking.

  Jesse starts moving in their direction, tugging me along, and I don’t resist. He’s pulling me gently, slowly, toward the small crowd, and although I can feel panic welling inside me, a rising storm, it doesn’t break.

  He’s got me, like he said. He’s with me, around me, a buffer, a warm place where I can hide.

  But he’ll let go, I think, when we reach the others. Surely he’s only doing this until he thinks I’m over my initial discomfort, and then I’ll be on my own.

  We walk between the pots of flowers and the milling guests who have to be family and friends, until we reach the tight core crowded around the couple. Ev spots me and rushes over to kiss my cheek. Her eyes widen when she sees who I’m with and notices his arm around me, but snaps her mouth shut and sends me a look that says we’ll talk later.

  Oh boy, looking forward to that one.

  Kayla ambles my way, nods at Jesse and tucks a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Nice place, huh?”

  Jesse’s friends wander by to say hi—Shane, Seth, Ocean, Tyler, along with his pixie-like girl, Erin, and their four-year-old son. Cute as hell, that kid, and he looks just like his gorgeous dad.

  The thought of kids—specifically of having kids with Jesse—sends heat through me. I glance up at him and find him making faces at the little boy.