SheLikesHimBad

by Scarlett Scott

  The instant the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them, because she recalled all too well that they’d shared a sleeping bag. Open mouth, insert foot, she mused in inner misery.

  He wiped his mouth a bit too long with his napkin. Silence hung heavy between them and for the second time, she wanted to crawl into a hole to hide.

  “It’s a night I’ll never forget, Em.”

  She swallowed, her heart doing double time. Why did he have to be so earnest and beautiful? Why couldn’t he have been seven kinds of douchebag from the moment he’d set foot at the front door? She couldn’t relive memories with him. It was too dangerous.

  “Well.” She cleared her throat and stood, retrieving all the dirty plates from the table. “Should we get going then? I don’t want to hold you up.” She glanced down at her hapless outfit. “Just let me get dressed first.”

  * * * * *

  No matter how much time passed, she would always know every inch of Paradise. It was a familiar drive to the edge of town, past the high school and football stadium where she’d cheered him on from the stands. They headed past the town’s lone shopping center, which housed a combination grocery store and pharmacy and not much else. But the turnoff was different now, she realized when she almost drove right past it.

  Instead of the red dirt road, the driveway was now paved a deep ebony that shone in the sun. “Wow,” she said as she pulled in, almost as much to herself as to Jackson. “It looks a lot different than I remember.”As she rounded a bend, his house came into view beyond a line of trees and a well-kept lawn. “Jackson, it’s beautiful.”

  The white house was a rambling plantation style with pillars flanking the stately front door. It was like something torn from the cover of a lifestyle magazine. The interior designer in her was one hundred percent in love with its classic aesthetic.

  “Thanks. It’s been a hell of a ride, but it turned out to be worth all the hassles.”

  She glanced over to find him smiling at the home he’d built. “Do I get to see the inside, or have I worn out my welcome?”

  “Of course, Em. You’re always welcome at my place. You should know that.”

  She should? How could she when they hadn’t spoken in all this time? She pulled to the front of his gorgeous home and slid the car into park. “It’s been so long, Jackson.”

  “Never too long for old friends,” he said as he took off his seat belt. Then he startled her by reaching out and touching her hand where it rested on the center console. “I’ve missed you. I know I’m not good at showing it, but it’s damn good to see you.”

  She turned her hand in his and gave his large, calloused fingers a squeeze. “I feel the same.”

  They were both adults now, long past the point of pain over their old romance. Of course they could be friends. But that didn’t mean the touch of his skin to hers didn’t send sparks of awareness through her. She relinquished his hand and moved to get out of the car before she lost control.

  The early summer air was humid and tinged with the sweet scent of blossoming flowers. As she followed him up the paved walkway, she was again touched by the beauty of the structure.

  “You’ve done an amazing job,” she said softly as she waited for him to unlock the front door.

  “Thanks.” He threw her a crooked grin over his shoulder. “I have to warn you to enter at your own risk. My guard dog hasn’t learned his manners yet.”

  Of course he had a dog. She knew he’d always wanted one, but his mother had been allergic. Emma loved dogs but a pet wasn’t conducive to her busy lifestyle. “What’s his name?”

  “Tinker Bell.”

  She laughed. “Just what I always imagined you’d name your dog. No, really. What is it?”

  Jackson opened the door and gestured for her to enter before him. He wore an embarrassed expression. “Really. My niece named him and I didn’t have the heart to change it, so he goes by Tinker.”

  “That’s adorable.” Emma stepped inside a spacious front hall to the sound of nails clicking on the polished hardwood floor. A small, brindle-colored blur flew at her, paws first. She bent down to pet him and received a very wet puppy kiss on her cheek. “You must be a good uncle, Jackson. Is your niece Evan’s or Cara’s?”

  Jackson was the middle child, with an older brother and a younger sister. She hadn’t forgotten and he looked surprised. “Livie is Evan’s daughter. She’s three and Tink’s biggest fan.” He sank down on his knees and rustled his energetic dog’s fur. “Tinker, down. I’m sorry. He’s only nine months old, and he hasn’t finished his obedience training yet.”

  “I don’t mind.” She laughed again as Tinker frantically wagged his tail and attempted to kiss his master as well. With his floppy ears and wrinkly face, Tinker was adorable. “What breed is he?”

  “He’s called a Bug.” Jackson looked up at her and she realized they were unsettlingly close again. “Half Boston Terrier, half Pug.”

  “More like half-crazy energy.” Tinker launched himself at her again and she obliged the dog by lavishing him with more attention. “He’s cute.”

  “Only when he’s not eating my socks and chewing on the damn coffee table.” He broke the headiness of the moment by standing again. “He likes you. You should feel honored. He doesn’t like many people other than Livie and me. Every time he sees my mother, he growls.”

  Emma stood too. “Maybe he knows she’s allergic?”

  He raked a hand through his hair and considered her. “You sure do have a mean memory, Em.”

  She was about to blurt that she always remembered things that were important, but she bit her tongue at the last second. His life wasn’t important to her, hadn’t been in years. And yet here she was, mooning over him like a girl.

  “It comes in handy sometimes,” she simply said, turning to take in the vaulted ceiling and breathtaking staircase in the entry hall. “So, are you going to show me around, Jackson, or do I have to stand here in the foyer forever?”

  “There’s that acid tongue again. L.A. turned you into a spitfire.”

  “I always was one and you know it.”

  “True enough. I guess some things don’t change.” He gestured for her to follow him. “This way.”

  The tour of his house left her in awe. It was an architectural gem, as carefully constructed on the inside as the outside suggested. His furniture was spare but well constructed, befitting a bachelor pad. He didn’t take her through the master bedroom, and it was just as well she reasoned as they wound up in the bright kitchen. They sat on barstools around a granite-topped island, sipping coffee. It was all very innocent and grownup. Tink chewed on a bone in a slat of sunlight on the tile floor.

  There was no reason why her thoughts should continuously veer into sexual white-water territory. Except they did. She watched his strong hands stroking the handle of his mug and then lifted her gaze to study his handsome face, hardened into a mature masculine beauty. He still had eyelashes a woman would kill for. His nose was a straight blade between high cheekbones, his jaw wide and strong, made all the more appealing by a dark shadow of scruff. And his sculpted mouth begged to be kissed. She wanted him, and the realization both appalled and fascinated her.

  “You’re staring,” he murmured, cutting her thoughts short.

  “I’m sorry.” Her cheeks warmed. “It’s just strange seeing you this way.”

  “I feel the same. You’re even more beautiful than I remembered, Em.”

  His words cut straight through her with the efficacy of a knife. She lost her breath for a few beats. “Do you ever think about back then?” Before he could answer, her nerve abandoned her. “Forget I said that. It was stupid. This is the first time I’ve been back here in years, and I’m getting sentimental. I’m sorry.”

  He stood slowly. “Don’t apologize.” In two strides, he closed the distance between them, standing close enough to her back that she could feel the heat radiating from his muscled body. He ran a hand up her left arm, gently trailing to rest
above her heart. His lips grazed her ear. “Would it sound crazy if I said I do?”

  She couldn’t move, hyperaware of his palm flattened over her madly tripping heart. “Not any crazier than me asking in the first place.”

  “Em.” Jackson’s mouth was somehow on her neck. “I want you.”

  Emma turned, pressing her face into his. “Jackson?”

  Their gazes met, their lips just a hesitation apart. “Em?”

  “Kiss me.” She sank her fingers into his thick hair and closed the distance between them.

  His mouth opened over hers with just enough force to tantalize. Their tongues slid together. He pulled her from the stool and turned her so their bodies met, deepening the kiss. His cock was a demanding ridge against her belly. An answering ache blossomed in her pussy. She was wet in an instant. Talk about crazy. This was insanity. This was wrong. Hooking up with Jackson was trouble, capital T, hell to the no. So why couldn’t she stop sucking on his tongue? And why was she getting up on tiptoes to rub herself against his hard-on like she’d die if she didn’t have him inside her, pronto?

  As it turned out, she didn’t need to worry. Tink brought her back to earth, barking and pawing at their legs. They broke the kiss, laughing. She should have been relieved for the interruption, but she had to admit to a secret surge of disappointment.

  “Thanks for bringing us back to earth, Tink.” Emma sank to her knees and threw herself into ruffling his velvety ears as embarrassment set in.

  Jack followed suit, raking a hand through his hair as he knelt alongside her. “Damn, I’m sorry Em.”

  “Don’t apologize,” she hurried to assure him in an effort to hide her roiling emotions. “It was nothing.”

  If only it had felt like nothing. Her libido was raging. She was practically ready to throw him to the floor and ride him naughty-cowgirl style until they both came. This wasn’t good at all.

  “Nothing,” he agreed, scratching Tink’s head.

  “Really, I’m the one who should apologize. I don’t know what happened.” She blew out a breath, frantically rummaging through her brain for an explanation. “I haven’t been back here in so long.”

  Yeah, Emma. Like that wasn’t the lamest excuse you’ve ever used. She inwardly grimaced. Way to keep your cool, idiot.

  He met her gaze, searching. “Are you happy to be back? You couldn’t wait to hightail it out of here.”

  Emma winced. “Now that’s a loaded question.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m happy to see you, which honestly shocks the hell out of me. Not that we left things on a bad note, but they were—”

  “Awkward,” he supplied with a rueful grin. “I was pissed and you were determined, and we had one hell of a fight.”

  “We did.” She remembered it all too well. “You rammed your fist through the wall in your parents’ garage.”

  “The hole is still there, believe it or not.”

  “And then you ignored every email I sent you,” she said before she could stop herself. Maybe his kisses had gone to her head. Suddenly she was playing a game of reveal-all-your-deepest secrets. She wanted to kick herself.

  He stilled. “I was doing you a favor, Em. Paradise wasn’t big enough for a girl like you.”

  “I still don’t think Paradise is big enough for a girl like me.” There was a sadness to her voice even she heard.

  “Are you really happy in L.A.?”

  The question took her by surprise. “Of course.” Her personal life currently sucked, but she’d be damned if she’d let him know it. “My work is going great. I’ve got an amazing client list, and I couldn’t be more pleased with how far my business has come.”

  He stood, making her feel awkward so far below him. She stood too, and they faced one another with Tink at their feet. The sexual tension was back. She was incredibly aware of him. She could smell his cologne and it made her want to press her nose to his neck and inhale deeply. Maybe lick his skin.

  “I wasn’t talking about your work.” He reached out and brushed a loose tendril of hair from her face. The gesture was so intimate, so caring she melted that much more. “I was talking about you.”

  “Me?” His fingers were lingering at her jawline and she was having a hard time concentrating. Her whole body was thrumming with need. He was going to be her undoing.

  “You,” he agreed, skimming a tantalizing path down her neck, following the line of her shirt. He stopped when he reached her breast, not moving.

  Her nipple hardened. She wanted to thrust herself into his waiting hand. Her pussy pulsed. How had this happened? Emma tried to summon up her earlier irritation with him, the old hurts, but found she couldn’t. All she wanted was him naked and hard and about to fuck her like a wild man.

  Uh-oh.

  This was going from insane to depraved. Worst of all, she wasn’t sure if she cared.

  “Does Tink have a crate?” she asked, breathless.

  “Excellent idea.” He scooped up the unsuspecting Tink in one swoop and carried him to a room off the kitchen.

  She had only a matter of seconds to try to talk some sense into her wicked, sex-with-Jackson craving brain. He was all wrong for her, wasn’t any more right now than he’d been years ago. Their life goals clashed. Their personalities clashed. He was all rough, country alpha man to her liberal city-girl. He probably didn’t even recycle, she told herself firmly.

  But the instant he walked back into the kitchen, none of her inner objections mattered. Because she wanted him. Badly. She wanted to get naked and sweaty, to feel his cock deep inside her. And she wasn’t going to let a little thing like common sense get in her way, damn it.

  He was rugged, rough around the edges, sexier than anyone had a right to be. He gave tall, dark and handsome a workout. Damn, he’d become a gorgeous man. His face was all forbidding angles, cheekbones that could almost slice you, the kind of five o’clock shadow that made her insides spontaneously combust. He stalked across the space between them like a hungry lion. Which meant she was his feast. She eyed his broad chest and large hands and thought there wasn’t a thing in the world she’d rather be.

  Jackson pulled her into his body and claimed her mouth again. This time, there was a clearly sexual slant to his lips as he opened over her, his tongue plunging inside. He tasted like man with a trace of French Roast. She ran her hands up over his chest, loving every sculpted inch of his pectoral muscles. Her wrists linked around his neck as she gave herself over to his drugging kiss.

  He nipped her lower lip, tugging with his teeth. His palms cupped her breasts, thumbs working her nipples into tight buds. “Would it be inappropriate for me to tell you I want to fuck you right now, Em?”

  His words sent a delicious wave of heat straight to her pussy. She was drenched, throbbing, instantly ready for his cock. Emma ran a hand back down his chest to caress his rigid dick through his jeans. Oh yes. He was big and just as eager for her as she was for him.

  She kissed the corner of his mouth. “It might be considered rude,” she murmured, delighting in the wicked way he made her feel. She was brazen and he was bad and she liked it. “If I didn’t want you to fuck me hard and deep right now.”

  The breath hissed in his lungs. “I want you so damn bad,” he growled.

  “Mmm.” She pulled her shirt over her head and threw it to the floor. “I can help you with that.”

  “You can?” His voice was deep with desire.

  A knowing smile curved her lips. “Oh yes.” Feeling as if a wild sex kitten had somehow inhabited her body, she reached behind her back and undid her bra before tossing it to the floor. Warm sunshine hit her breasts. Their rosy tips were hard and jutted upward, waiting to be sucked.

  Jackson didn’t waste a moment in cupping her breasts and lowering his warm, wet mouth to a sensitized nipple. He suckled and grazed it gently with his teeth. Sweet bolts of pleasure shot through her. She hooked her leg around his thigh and arched into him. The sight of his handsome face against her breast,
his sculpted lips closed over her nipple, almost made her come. He released it and turned his attention to her other breast, delivering the same torture.

  “I want you to fuck me, Jackson,” she whispered, rubbing her pussy against him. “Right here and right now. I can’t wait.”

  He nipped her breast in a tantalizing love bite, then rose to seal their lips in another series of hungry kisses. His tongue played with hers. “I think I can arrange that.”

  His hand went between her legs, teasing her pussy even through the layers of clothing. She opened for him, thrusting. He undid the fly of her jeans and slid his fingers past the elastic band of her thong, dipping into the moist flesh. Her clit was plump and extremely responsive to the firm strokes he gave it.

  “Please,” she whimpered.

  He rubbed down over her slick, swollen pussy lips and sank a finger inside her. Emma moved against him, pulling him deeper. Another finger joined the first. He was very deep and it was so good. She moaned, pumping into him.

  “Do you like this, Em?”

  Naughty man. He wanted to make her say it. She met his gaze, loving the fact his fingers were deep in her pussy. “Do you?” she countered.

  “Hell yes,” he groaned. “You’re so tight and wet. I want to slide my cock inside you.”

  “Mmm. I want your cock inside me, Jackson.”

  He slid his fingers from her, his expression turning serious. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She watched as he raised his fingers, glistening with her juices, to his mouth and tasted them. He closed his eyes and looked like a man in ecstasy. “So good. I’m going to fuck your pussy very hard. Is that okay?”

  The matter-of-fact way he spoke of what he wanted to do to her was making her even crazier for him. Another wave of lust slammed into her. “Perfectly okay.”

  She reached out and helped to remove his shirt. It sailed to the tile floor and she was treated to the sight of his lean, muscled chest. Her first thought was that she wanted to lick him. His stomach was taut perfection, dusted with just enough dark hair to be mouthwatering. His chest was magnificent.