“Oh, I forgot about Thing One and Thing Three.” Gretchen closed the lid with mild reverence and pushed the box to the side. “They were such cute, happy little guys—always running on their wheel, never getting anywhere and not caring about it either way.”
“What happened to Thing Two?” Jared lay sprawled out on the wispy, uncut grass, staring up at the night sky and feeling the exhaustion of digging in the rocky soil like a soothing balm. He’d forgotten how good hard labor felt—how much more at home he was in a ditch than an office.
“There was no Thing Two. I hated to be derivative.”
He laughed easily. “Why is that not surprising?”
Taking his laughter as an invitation, Gretchen stretched herself out next to him. She’d changed into jeans and a black tank top once they’d decided to tackle the treasure map, looking even more comfortable with herself than she had in her pajamas. He reached out and touched the thin fabric of her top, unable to stop himself from the wet, warm heat of it, of sweat and cotton, nothing more.
“Hey.” She wriggled out of his reach. “No tickling. I’m too exhausted to fight back.”
He propped himself up on one elbow. “I wasn’t tickling. I was admiring.”
Admiration was hardly strong enough of a word. The moon was on its way down from a swelling fullness, but the light it cast had been more than enough for them to toss the flashlights aside and dig by the evening glow. It was also more than enough to see the form of a woman who meant so much more to him than he thought a human being could.
“I bet you’re regretting my offer of rolling in the mud now,” Gretchen teased gently. There was no mistaking the quirk in Jared’s lips as he studied her—it was a quirk that wanted to feed. To consume.
“Only a little.” He continued the slowly teasing path of his finger along her side. “Honestly, I was just thinking how much better I like you in ordinary clothes. You’re not quite as intimidating this way.”
“Me? Intimidating?” Was he being serious right now?
“You have to know how terrifying you are, Gretchen. You have to know how you affect people.” He reached out and fingered her tank top again, running his touch over the band on her shoulder. It had to be the first time he’d gotten anywhere near her neck and didn’t dive in to devour the vine. “It suits you. Simple. Comfortable.” He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully. “You provide more than enough vibrancy on your own.”
She lifted her arm and examined the ink there, the colors running into one another where she’d had the spaces filled. She’d grown so accustomed to the sight of her arms that it took the intense interest of a man like Jared to make her realize how far she stood out from the rest of the world. “That’s true. I’m practically my own rainbow.”
He rolled closer and moved his hand to her chin, tilting it so that she was forced to meet his gaze. “I’m not talking about your tattoos, Gretchen. I’m talking about you. I don’t know how you do it, but whenever I’m near you, everything becomes so clear and easy. It’s the only time I think I might be able to be myself again someday.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know how to respond to something like that.
“You have no idea how huge that is for me,” he said, his eyes continuing to search hers. “I’ve been lost for a long time.”
Fortunately, she didn’t have to search too hard for something to say, as Jared chose that moment to cover her lips with his in a deep, openmouthed kiss that smelled like dirt and tasted of the sky. They were a mess, the pair of them, sweaty and tired and no closer to Gran’s treasure than before, but Gretchen wasn’t sure they’d ever shared a kiss like this before. There was no urgency in it, no sense that the movement of tongues was a prelude to anything more than losing themselves in the moment.
In fact, it felt almost as though they were sharing the first real conversation they’d had since they met. She didn’t have to bulldoze his ego to break through to his heart. He didn’t need an audience or the thrill of adrenaline to feel like a man. They were just two people. Warm and solid and flawed and colorful, and that was enough.
“There isn’t any chance your grandmother is about to come home and tell us to get off her lawn, is there?” Jared asked, pulling back to give them time to breathe. It was a good thing too, as Gretchen had somehow forgotten the most basic of human needs as she reveled in the soft, sweet depth of him.
He traced a hand over her neck—lightly, lovingly, back to the vine—and Gretchen felt a sad smile rise to her face. Maybe they hadn’t been having a conversation after all. Maybe this was yet another moment of imbalance between them, of the bad girl and the good doctor coming together for a brief affair.
“Why?” she asked. “Are we upping the stakes again? Is this the natural progression of things? A tent in your backyard, a grandmother in mine?”
He sat up, a frown settling firmly on his face. “That’s not what I meant.”
Bam. From sweetly sexy to angry in under sixty seconds flat. There was no middle road with this man. “Maybe we should call it a night. I’ll try to see if I can dig some more tomorrow once the sun comes up.”
“What did I say? What did I do?” An anxious furrow lowered his brow. “Gretchen—you know I’m terrible at reading the subtext.”
It was true. Brilliant people—at least the few brilliant people she’d come across in her lifetime—had a way of being obtuse when it came to everything else. Jared was worse than most, especially since it had somehow become her personal duty to lay out the truth when he refused to see it staring in his face.
She sat up and sighed. As much as she wished it were otherwise, it wasn’t fair to either of them for her to play coy now. “You know as well as I do that you see me as some kind of conduit to the dark side you can use to feel better about yourself. Don’t try to object—you know it’s true, and most of that is my fault. I let you see what you wanted, but the truth is that I’m not really that tough. I’m ticklish and most days I wear ordinary jeans. I worry about my grandma and I waste my time taking community college classes that lead nowhere. And I have a serious soft spot for a certain plastic surgeon who shall, for his own good, remain nameless.”
Jared’s mouth lifted at one corner. Trust him to focus only on that last bit.
“I’m not saying I haven’t enjoyed my time with you, but don’t you think we should call this spade what it is?” She picked up an actual spade and shoved it into the ground, using the leverage to help her to her feet. She extended a hand and hoisted him up. “You’re here for your regular supply of vice, and I’m not sure I have any left to give.”
“Stop.” Jared could hear the words coming out of Gretchen’s mouth, and they were making a reasonable impression on the workings of his brain, but he’d have been damned if he’d agree with any of it. “Stop before you say another word.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re adorable when you’re wrong.” He reached up a hand and traced the lines around her mouth. “And because I want to meet Wally. And your grandmother, if she gets back before it’s too late.”
Gretchen scowled into his fingers. “She won’t. Her poker nights get very rowdy.”
“And the lobster?”
“You just want to see what my room looks like.”
“In my head, it’s got a lot of pink pillows and a secret liquor cabinet under the bed.”
She cracked a smile. “I think we’ve already determined that what goes on inside your head is an unrealistic expectation of reality.”
“I’m not just here for the vice, Gretchen, despite any impression I may have made otherwise.” He took her hand and led her along the path up to the house. It seemed vital she understand that. “I’m not going to say that I don’t find your tattoos and roller derby stuff incredibly attractive—because I do—but I’d like to think there’s something more between us than just
scarily hot sex and a good time.”
“Scarily hot?” He heard the creep of amusement in her voice.
With his grip firm on her hand, he tugged, whirling her close. They paused in the back doorway to her house, where a glass-encased porch showed streaks of mildewed condensation. The decay of the once-grand house had its own kind of beauty, especially when it framed Gretchen. She was the exotic bloom pushing through the rot, the strong, reedy flower awaiting discovery.
How amazing that no explorer had gotten here before him. How surprising that in all his travels and experiences, nothing could rival the simplicity of a real friend in a small Pennsylvania town.
“You haven’t exactly seen me at my best,” he admitted, his voice a low growl. “When things are ordinary hot, I tend to perform better.”
“I don’t recall complaining.”
No. She wouldn’t. Or if she did, it would be a playful challenge, a special kind of foreplay all on its own.
He kissed her then, unable to resist the smile playing on her lips or the gleam in her eyes. Pinning her against the wall, he took his time savoring the feel of her body against his, her mouth opening to let him in. There was something about the ordinariness of it all—being at a woman’s house, kissing her in the moonlight on her back porch—that cast their former public acts of indecency into the shade. Here was his opportunity to take his time, to cherish her touch, to prove that he was more than a creature of depravity, unable to withstand the lure of skin and sensation.
“Show me your room?” he asked, practically speaking into her mouth. He was hesitant to pull away, afraid of somehow breaking the moonlit spell.
“Okay. But prepare to be underwhelmed.”
Gretchen led Jared down to her underground lair, flicking on lights and pointing out various points of interest. As there weren’t many—even Wally did little more than scuttle into a bright green coral cave—most of their focus was concentrated on the bed. It was a queen-sized bed. Soft. Not pink or housing a liquor cabinet, but with clean flower-sprigged sheets that boasted a pretty high thread count for a woman of her means.
Jared came up behind her and nuzzled her neck, his hands careful to settle on her hips instead of her stomach so as not to send her jumping out of her skin. It was a considerate move—one that did more to send a shiver of delight down her spine than the fierce press of his fingers.
“That’s a very nice bed,” he murmured, echoing her thoughts. “We’ve never fooled around on a bed before.”
She gurgled with suppressed joy. “How very daring of you, Dr. Fine. Since I’m all too aware of your sleeping situation at home, I bet this seems downright foreign.”
Before she could tease him further, Jared lifted her and tossed her onto the bed, adding a little spin so she landed facing up. She bounced and settled in, a smile threatening to rip her face in two. Say what a modern-day girl should about barbaric men taking control in the bedroom, she rather liked it. With a tug on her ankle, he shifted her farther down the mattress.
“The only thing strange about this situation is that you still have your clothes on.” Without further ado, he made short work of their clothing, slipping off the fabric separating their bodies without ceremony or care.
It was a new experience, this being naked in a room with him. Although she’d felt this man push inside her on several admittedly delicious occasions, they’d never come close to baring all.
Her imagination hadn’t done him enough justice. Naked Jared was a glorious thing to behold, the sinewy strength of him compacted for maximum pleasure. And while she could have spent hours gazing on the hard ripples of muscle that scoured his back and thighs, it was the prominent protrusion of his thick cock that brought her the most pleasure.
“You’re gorgeous,” Jared murmured, beating her to the punch. “A work of art.”
She’d been so caught up in his own nakedness, she’d somehow forgotten that she was sprawled out in front of him in all her own fully exposed glory.
“This isn’t even my best vantage point,” she teased, knowing full well how he felt about the view from the rear.
“Gretchen, when you’re being viewed through these eyes, there is no bad vantage point.”
He lifted her leg from the bed, his grip on her ankle firm, and began kissing a slow, agonizing path up the snake’s body. She tried to wriggle up and do a little hands-on action of her own, but he pushed her back to the bed with a low growl.
“For once, I’m going to take my damn time,” he said, his voice taking on that explosive edge she loved so much. It always led to the most glorious pyrotechnic displays.
He moved higher up her thighs, teeth and tongue joining the fray, sending waves of pleasure-pain that caused her to writhe against the sheets. Still he held firm, his free hand holding her legs open wide enough to grant him full access. Strong though she was, she couldn’t have moved if she wanted to.
Good thing she didn’t want to. Jolts of fiery pleasure sprang through her body as his mouth moved higher, leaving no part of her untouched.
“You know, this would be a lot easier if you’d hold still.” Jared looked at her and licked his lips. Her body’s juices glistened there, and she felt a profound urge to kiss him, to taste herself through his mouth. To see herself through his eyes.
“Holding still would be a lot easier if you didn’t—oh, God!”
She gave up trying as Jared bit the inside of her thigh, the softly sweet pain of it pinning her to the bed like an insect to a board. By the time he was done with her, she’d be covered in his own version of ink. Teeth and tongue and fingernails, an impermanent impression that he’d been here, claimed her.
There was nothing of the pain as his mouth met her clit. Gone was his fierce grip on her ankle and inner thigh, replaced only by the gentle movements of his fingers caressing the deepest part of her. She felt foolish, smiling there on the bed as his tongue swirled against her body, but she couldn’t help but note the consistency of this man’s inconsistency.
Hot and cold. Suck and blow. Bite and kiss.
Jared was a man of extremes.
Gretchen barely had time to register the thought before he increased the pressure of his kiss and brought her body up to meet his mouth more firmly. The direct pressure worked like an ignition on her body, and she felt herself jerking against him even before the cry was wrested from her mouth.
She lay like an inelegant pool of goo in the middle of her bed—and she didn’t much care. At least, she didn’t until he started kissing her again, this time moving up her body, landing a soft kiss on her belly before continuing an upward path.
She gripped his hair. “Hey—do that again.”
He peeked up at her, a boyish grin erasing years from his face. “Give me a second, would you? I’m working on it.”
Laughter escaped her in a whoosh of air. “Not that. I meant the kiss.”
“What? This?” He leaned down and planted another soft kiss on her stomach. She watched, propped on her elbows, almost fascinated by the movement.
“Again,” she ordered.
“You’re very demanding today,” he said with a mock grumble. “I could get used to this.”
She didn’t let him distract her. “No—I’m serious. It doesn’t tickle. I’m watching you ravage my most sensitive parts, and I’m not dying. Holy crap, Jared, I think you’ve cured me.”
He moved up her body so that they lay as close as two human beings possibly could and brushed the hair from her face. “Sorry, but it doesn’t work that way. My guess is that your stomach muscles are relaxed from the most incredible orgasm of your life.”
She smiled against his mouth. “I never said it was the most incredible orgasm of my life.”
He smiled back. “You didn’t not say it either.” Then, sneaky bastard that he was, he reached a hand between them and pok
ed her liberally in the ribs. True to his suspicion, she squealed and attempted to vault from the bed, held only in place by his weight on top of her. “See? Still ticklish. Now—what was that you were saying about me ravishing your sensitive parts?”
There was no dissuading him after that. Supremely-proud-of-himself Jared was an incredible bedroom companion, as it turned out. Not content with reducing her to jelly and taking his own pleasure, he insisted on kissing her, rolling her around the bed, running his hands over every inch of her skin until she was exhausted from the effort of being adored.
It wasn’t until she reached down and gripped his cock in her hands that she was able to direct his attention back toward himself. She had a healthy cache of condoms in her drawer and pulled one out before he got any more ideas about prolonging this moment further.
“I bet it won’t tickle if you poke me in the belly with this,” she said, stroking the condom onto him with the same slow, teasing manner he’d been employing since he’d gotten her into bed.
“And if it does, you’ll have to suck it up and bear it. If you start laughing while I’m inside you, my ego might never recover.”
Gretchen kept her grip on the thick heft of him and met his eyes. He’d clearly meant the words as a joke, but she’d long since come to realize that Jared’s ego, an overblown balloon of a thing, was more fragile than even he knew. One strong wind could carry it away from her for good. “I’m not laughing now.”
He cupped the side of her face and delved in for a deep, lasting kiss that put an end to his interminable assault on her senses. Laying her back gently on the bed, he finally guided himself toward her entrance, pausing right before he thrust in, almost as though reconsidering his actions.
Who’d have had any idea that ordinary sex with this man would be so difficult?
“Jared,” she commanded, forcing him to look at her. “This is no different than all the other times we’ve been together.”
“You’re wrong,” he said, so quiet she could barely hear him. He pushed into her with an agonizing slowness that made her moan beneath him. His forehead against hers, he added, “This is different from any other kind of intimacy I’ve had in my life.”
The Derby Girl Page 24
