by Mari Carr
“In following your gut,” Jarod added, purposely trying to remind Stephanie of their conversation the previous night.
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “In making an ass of yourself and setting yourself up for heartbreak. That sort of bullshit is a surefire way to misery.”
He wasn’t surprised by her words. The pain of her mother’s failed marriages was evident. Stephanie put on a tough exterior, but Jarod suspected there was a whole world of terror residing inside her. She was proud and stubborn. She wouldn’t let herself make the same mistakes her mother had made. She preferred the safe route—never letting herself feel anything deeper than friendship, never letting herself experience anything other than casual sex. When he’d asked her about her last relationship, she couldn’t remember one. He wondered if she’d ever taken a leap of faith with her heart, ever trusted someone enough to fall in love.
“You’re wrong.” His declaration tweaked her temper just as he’d known it would. The other ladies fell silent when Stephanie stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re mistaking cowardice for practicality, shutting yourself off from an emotion you can’t control.”
She frowned. “I wasn’t talking about me. I was discussing the book.”
He didn’t respond, though his silence made it clear he didn’t think she’d been talking about the book at all. He was deliberately baiting her. Stephanie needed her foundation shaken up a bit. She might pretend this conversation was all hypothetical, but he knew better and he wasn’t letting her hide from it.
She looked at Jayne. “Is the book discussion over?”
Jayne nodded slowly. “I, um…yeah, I guess it is.”
Stephanie rose and looked directly at him. “Do you have a minute, Jarod? I’d like to speak to you in private.”
He rose from the table slowly. “Thank you for letting me join your group this evening, ladies. I had a lot of fun.”
The women said their goodbyes, but he felt their gazes piercing his back as he followed Stephanie down a hallway toward some stairs.
They walked to the second floor without speaking. Once they hit the upper landing, he broke the silence. “If you’re dragging me up here to murder me, you just left a shitload of witnesses down there. Better make sure you hide the body good.”
She turned to look at him and he was surprised to see humor in her eyes. He’d thought she was pissed off. “We rent both floors of the building. Jordan keeps an office up here to handle accounts and we store stuff in the other rooms.”
She opened a door and took him inside one of the storage rooms. There were boxes lining three of the walls, while a couple of broken bar stools lay in the middle of the floor. Once he crossed the threshold, she shut the door and locked it. Grabbing him by the shirt, she pushed him against the nearest wall and kissed him.
As far as reactions went, he wouldn’t have seen this one coming from a mile away. Not that he was complaining. He let her direct their kiss, her fingers gripping his hair, holding his face to hers.
She forced his mouth open, her tongue driving in fast and hard. Jarod followed her lead, trying to separate his mind from his body long enough to figure out what the hell was going on. He’d purposely goaded her downstairs, thinking an argument would drag her out of her imperturbable mindset long enough for him to see what he was up against.
She was too closed off, too in control, and he needed to shatter some of that composure. He was tired of feeling like he’d been ridden hard and put away wet whenever he was with her, only to discover her still cruising along, cool as a cucumber.
He placed his hands on her hips, intent on pushing her away, but she read his touch as an invitation and moved closer, pressing her lower body against his. At that point, his cock stopped giving a shit about anything except relief.
He grasped the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, his fingers immediately tackling the clasp of her bra. She mimicked his motions, pulling his shirt off and dragging her fingers along his chest.
As he worked on releasing the button and zipper on her jeans, he pulled away from her continued kiss. “Is there a meaning to this that I’m missing?”
She didn’t look up as she attacked the fastening on his pants, shoving them and his boxers down in one fluid movement. “A deeper meaning than I’m horny?”
“I thought you’d be pissed off at me.”
She shook her head, dropping to her knees in front of him. His head flew back, striking the wall hard when she wrapped her hand around his erection. “Angry? Horny? What’s the difference? They both make me hot.”
He tried to offer some witty reply, but the words turned into a groan when she engulfed the head of his cock in her mouth.
“Jesus,” he muttered. Her mouth was a warm, wet cave—paradise. She took him to the back of her throat on the third stroke and he gritted his teeth. While the idea of coming in her mouth was enticing, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He wrapped his fingers in her hair as she moved along his rigid flesh faster. She sucked harder and he couldn’t repress the shiver that rumbled through his body.
When he realized time was running out and his climax was imminent, he pushed her head away.
She released his cock with a pop and a complaint. “Hey!” She tried to reclaim her hold on him, but he was finished playing this game by her rules. He reached for her upper arms, pulling her to a standing position.
“Dammit, Jarod. I wasn’t finished.”
He unfastened her pants, shoving them and her panties to her ankles. “Kick off your pants and shoes. I’m going to fuck you.” The words were harsher than he intended, but his body was flying this plane. Finesse wasn’t going to be an option.
She hastily shed the rest of her clothes as he reached down for his wallet. Pulling out a condom, he covered his cock as he shoved off his own jeans. Switching positions, he pressed her against the wall that had previously been at his back.
“Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on.”
Putting her arms around his shoulders, she allowed him to lift her, watching as he placed his cock at the opening to her pussy and pressed in. She was soaking wet and more than ready for his possession.
He thrust in hard, relishing her gasp, her moans.
Conversation between them disintegrated into a series of curses, demands and groans.
“Fuck yeah. Just like that, baby,” he said when she arched her back slightly, allowing him to go deeper.
“Harder,” she cried, groaning when he increased the force of his blows.
“God damn,” he said through gritted teeth, pushing her legs down.
She snarled when he pulled out. “Not stopping again.”
“Turn around. I want to fuck you from behind.”
“Yes,” she hissed.
He gripped her hips, pulling them back until she was bent over at the waist, her palms pressed flat against the wood.
“Hold on.” His words were as much for him as for her. He was too close to coming, and he suspected he only had a few more good thrusts inside him before he blew.
Stephanie glanced over her shoulder and gave him a wicked grin. “Make it good.”
He closed his eyes, lined up his cock and shoved in with all his might. Damn, he loved a dare. She met each of his thrusts, both of them racing toward the end together. Maybe one of these days they’d trade in their sprints for marathons. For right now, he just wanted…
He groaned as her pussy clenched around his cock, her orgasm triggering his own. They clung to each other, seeking physical support lest they both fall over.
He was still breathing heavily when she finally stirred. Christ, he liked to think he was in good shape, but she’d given him one hell of a workout.
She slowly straightened, using the wall for support in her efforts to resume an upright position. “Holy fuck,” she said, pressing her forehead against the wood.
He couldn’t have said it better. In her efforts to stand, she’d moved away from him. Jarod mi
ssed the physical connection, so he took a step closer, placing his palms on the wall and caging her in.
As his breathing slowed, his wits returned. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?”
She didn’t respond immediately and he wished she’d turned around, needing to see her face, read her expressions. He felt like he spent too much time flying blind with her.
Finally, she turned to face him and he knew he wasn’t going to like what was coming next. “I was trying to prove my point.”
“What point?”
“This isn’t love at first sight, Jarod. It’s lust. Pure and simple.”
“Wrong,” he refuted. “You didn’t listen to what I said downstairs. Two people can be in love and in lust with each other.”
She narrowed her eyes. Clearly she thought she’d won this round and left him at a disadvantage. What they’d just engaged in couldn’t be misconstrued as anything other than unadulterated, hardcore, fuck-the-walls-down sex. But that didn’t mean other emotions weren’t involved. They sure as hell were for him.
When she smiled up at him, that cursed coolness covering her lovely, flushed features, he felt the urge to punch the wall in frustration.
“It’s only sex, Detective. And when it burns out, it burns out.”
Mark up another evasion to the bartender.
Jarod returned her smug grin with an even cockier one, enjoying the suspicious concern that entered her gaze. She may think she prevailed in this battle, but he was definitely going to be the victor in the war. Confidence bloomed. He could afford to be generous.
“Touché, Steph.”
She looked uneasy. “So you agree I’m right?”
He shook his head. “Nope. You’re still wrong.”
Chapter Seven
After their heated interlude in the storage room, Stephanie expected Jarod to back off a bit. Instead, he became her personal shadow. Every night after his shift, he appeared in the bar, claiming what she’d come to consider his stool. They’d talk as she worked. After closing, he’d stick around to help her tidy up, then walk her to her car. He never invited her back to his place or accepted an invitation to hers. Instead, he gave her a sinfully hot goodnight kiss that never failed to leave her body aching and needy.
Somehow, Wednesday had become date night. He’d show up at her apartment at six and take her out for the evening. They’d yet to do the same thing twice. They’d been bowling, to an arcade, strolling by the river and they sung karaoke—badly. She’d never had so much fun with a guy before. Generally, she went out with her girlfriends for laughs and companionship, while her dating experiences had involved awkward conversations over dinner before they could get down to the good stuff—sex. Jarod had changed all of that.
The past month had flown by in a flurry of never-ending fun, but she was suffering from constant sexual frustration. Besides his too-hot kisses and constant hand-holding, Jarod hadn’t made a move to continue their physical relationship. She suspected he was trying to teach her a lesson, punishing her for the way she’d chosen to prove her point about their relationship residing in the lust-only category. Unfortunately, all he was doing was hurting them both. She was irritable from a serious lack of good sex. Ordinarily she could live without a man—taking care of business with her vibrator—but Jarod had triggered some hardcore horniness even her beloved battery-operated boyfriend couldn’t touch.
This evening, that was all going to change. Enough was enough. After a month of celibate Wednesdays, she was taking back control. She’d issued an invitation to dinner at her place and she’d been pleasantly surprised when he’d accepted.
She tugged at her short skirt as she glanced in the full-length mirror one last time. She grinned at her reflection—enjoying the way her tight T-shirt emphasized her bra-less chest. Jarod had made no secret of how much he liked her tits. Tonight the girls were going to help her bring him down.
Jarod had been waging a ridiculous battle of wills and she was tired of losing. She was going to take the lead and she’d pull out all the stops, fighting as dirty—please God, let things get dirty—as she needed to.
The doorbell rang and she slipped on her strappy high heels. She loved the power the four extra inches of height inspired in her. She opened the door, anticipating Jarod’s face when he saw her.
What she didn’t expect was her reaction to him.
He was wearing a button-down shirt and dress slacks, an outfit she’d previously considered the safest attire on earth. However, on Jarod, it made her think all sorts of nasty thoughts as she pictured herself in the role of a naughty schoolgirl to his conservative teacher. Or better yet, a slutty secretary to his firm, powerful boss.
“Hi,” she said, wondering where that breathless quality in her voice had come from. She sounded like a fool.
He walked inside, put down the bag he’d brought on the table by the door, took the two steps necessary to reach her and kissed her. Really and truly kissed her. Stephanie was beginning to get spoiled by his lips. One touch and they sent her spiraling into orbit.
He cupped her cheek as he pulled away. “You look fucking hot.”
She grinned, running her hand along his muscular chest. “So do you.”
He’d been in the apartment less than five minutes and she was already prepared to move things along to the bedroom. Unfortunately, Jarod—the cold-hearted bastard—had managed to cool off, stepping away as if completely unaffected by her kisses. He picked up the bag, pulling out a bottle of wine and a couple of candles. “For our dinner.”
She wondered how he’d react if she shoved the wine and the candles up his ass. Forcing herself to take a calming breath, she focused on the task at hand. It was still early in the evening and she had plenty of tricks up her sleeve.
Her cat appeared from behind the sofa and came to investigate.
“And who is this?” Jarod asked.
“My naughty baby girl, Heineken.”
“Heineken?”
“I call her Heinie for short.”
She was pleased when Jarod bent over to pick up her cat, scratching Heineken between the ears. Before long, her kitty was purring and she wondered if there was any female—human or otherwise—who could resist the hot cop.
“Thanks for the dinner invite.”
His words drew her attention away from his strong fingers stroking Heinie’s fur. She was actually starting to get jealous of her own damn cat. “Speaking of dinner, I need to go check on the baked spaghetti.”
He followed her to the kitchen. “Smells delicious. Garlic bread too?”
“Would I forget that?” They’d recently discovered their shared love of garlic, joking that if they both ate it, they wouldn’t have to worry about bad breath. “I still need to make the salad.”
“Let me help.” Jarod washed his hands then grabbed the head of lettuce, cleaning it in the sink. Stephanie docked her new iPod on a set of speakers and turned on some music. They prepared the salad in companionable silence. When Jimmy Buffett’s Volcano started playing, Jarod took her hands, spinning her around the kitchen in an old-fashioned dance, both of them singing along. As the song ended, he dipped her, giving her a quick kiss before releasing her.
Just like that, she was on fire. And once again, Jarod regained control in an instant. If this night didn’t end with him in her bed, fucking her senseless, she’d kill him. It was as simple as that.
The oven timer beeped. She dished up the spaghetti and garlic bread while Jarod set the dining room table. When she carried out their plates, she was surprised to see he’d lit the candles he’d brought, dimming the lights.
There was no other word to describe the room. It was romantic.
Jarod fiddled with her iPod until he found Adele. A slow, sultry tune completed the effect. Damn him, it was perfect.
As they ate, they talked about concerts they’d attended. Stephanie was a diehard Parrothead and Jarod laughed as she described the tailgate parties prior to Buffett’s shows—complete wit
h topless lifeguard stands and body shots.
His taste in music ran to classic rock. He’d seen Black Sabbath, Santana and Foreigner. She rolled her eyes when he actually bragged about attending a Bon Jovi concert.
“Oh my God. You can’t seriously think that’s cool.”
He raised an eyebrow. “First of all, I really like their new stuff, and secondly, this criticism is coming from a woman whose idea of concert cool is Hawaiian shirts, grass skirts and leis.”
“Whatever,” she said, grinning widely at his jest.
After dinner, Jarod helped her clean up, loading the dishwasher as she wiped off the table and counters. He poured the last two glasses of wine from the bottle, handing one to her.
He tapped his glass against hers. “To garlic bread and double-parking.”
She added to the toast. “To handcuffs and sex.”
His eyes darkened and he shook his head. “You’re insatiable.” He paused for a moment before adding, “And irresistible.”
She frowned. He didn’t appear to have much trouble resisting her lately. He turned and walked to the living room, setting down his wine.
For a moment, she thought he was going to leave. She felt disappointed and somewhat desperate. Putting her glass next to his, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her.
“Jarod,” she whispered, rising up to kiss him. She gripped the back of his neck, determined to keep him close.
He returned her kiss, his hands resting lightly on her waist. It wasn’t enough. She missed his hard, hungry touches, the way he pulled her against him as if he needed her body pressed to his. She tried to drag him into the web of seduction he’d securely wrapped her in, but he still managed to remain aloof.
She took a step away. She’d never met a man she couldn’t seduce, but Jarod wasn’t biting despite the fact she knew he wanted to. One glance below his waist proved he wasn’t as disinterested as he pretended. Goddamn reverse psychology. The more he resisted her sexual advances, the more she wanted him.
What really bugged her wasn’t the lack of sex, though. It was his reason for abstaining. It all centered on that fucking leap of faith Jayne mentioned. Jarod had taken it. Now he was waiting for her to follow him, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.
