Plain Jane and Mr. Wrong (Plain Jane Series Book 4)

by Tmonique Stephens

  She wished she weren’t wet, her core hollow, her clit throbbing. She wished her nipples weren’t pebbled and pointing directly at him. She wished her body were under her control and she had no response to the irresistible temptation he presented. The pull between them was undeniable.

  He held out his hand. She had so many opportunities to flee, but this moment seemed preordained from the second they met. And she needed this. Needed to know how it felt to be wanted for herself and not a commodity. Not a price tag to line a man’s pocket.

  She wanted tonight. Tomorrow could wait until tomorrow.

  Jentry took his hand and stepped into the tub. She sank into the steamy water. Sighing as heat seeped into her muscles. She leaned back, content. Her eyes slid closed on their own. She knew he remained, watching her. In a second, she’d shoo him away. Like that’ll work.

  The water rippled and a hand slid around her ankle.

  “What are you doing?” Warily she watched her foot emerge from the silky water.

  Without her consent, Harden Gage, head of the New York syndicate, killer, ice in his heart, veins, and eyes…began massaging her foot.

  “You said they hurt.”

  It was divine, his strong fingers plying the sole of her foot and arch, working each knot until they melted away. Yet, even as she enjoyed it, all she could think of was her callused heel and chipped nails. It had been a while since her last pedicure, and a week since she’d done them herself.

  He rested her foot on his chest, completely disregarding his fine linen shirt, to move his hands up her calf, massaging all the way to her knee.

  “Where did you go, Jentry?” His hands were soft, yet strong, coasting over her skin while his voice was hard, and his eyes were cold as he waited for a response.

  She wanted to be a bitch and refuse to answer, but his hands were too sure, too comforting, and his concern was a blanket of warmth over her stubborn sensibilities.

  “A diner.”

  He grunted, clearly annoyed. “Where?” He demanded.

  Of course, he’d want to know. “The Village.”

  He huffed. “Anyone bother you?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Leaving was reckless. Something could’ve happened to you, Jentry. You’re the only parent Allie has, and you were reckless.” His voice was soft, yet no less powerful because he was right.

  What would happen to Allie if she were gone? Her parents would fight for their granddaughter, but what about Carl? Would he make trouble for them? He didn’t want Allie. He had never wanted her.

  If he thought there was money involved, yeah, he would. She couldn’t do that to her parents or her daughter, not knowingly placing herself in danger.

  “It won’t happen again.”

  He nodded once and switched legs. One leg down, one to go. He repeated the care on her other leg.

  The task completed, her calves and feet were rejuvenated.

  But he wasn’t done. She squeaked when he reached into the tub to pick her up and sit her on the rim, but she was too intrigued to protest. What would he rub next?

  Harden squirted a dollop of shower gel into his palms and began with her arms. Suds erupted wherever his hands traveled, which was completely lost on her as she basked in the slippery, yet rough touch. He glided his hands from her shoulders down her arms, then back up to her shoulders, and back.

  His hands slowed. “The tattoo,” he said. “You have a steady job and the money to remove it now.”

  Jentry cranked her head around and met his gaze. “I guess I do.” Removing a tattoo wasn’t a one-step process. It involved many visits and the same amount of pain receiving the ink stretched over days. But that wasn’t why she said, “I don’t want it removed. I’m keeping it.”

  His hands stopped but stayed on her skin, warm and possessive. “Why?” He didn’t sound angry, just confused.

  She huffed, understanding how he didn’t get it. He wouldn’t because he’d never been nor would he ever be in her position. “I’m keeping it because it keeps me safe.” Jentry almost laughed at the puzzlement on his face.

  His gaze turned condescending. “No man wants a woman with another man’s name on her body.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Fortunately, she didn’t care what he thought or what any man thought. Her body belonged to her and no one else. But she decided to put him out of his misery and explain.

  “I’m not talking about a casual fuck, Harden. I’m talking about a relationship. In that way I’m safe from anyone trying to holler at me.” She raised her voice, mimicking the many guys holding up the street corner, trying to get any woman’s attention.

  “So, no relationship, huh?” His fingers trailed to her neck, stroking the column of her throat and jaw, then glided down to tease her collarbones. A slight pause for another dollop of soap in his palm and his fingers trailed to her breasts. He reached around her body to cup her full mounds, soaping each, yet avoiding her peaked nipples until they ached to be touched, stroked, tweaked. She bit her lip to keep her demands between her teeth. She wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t.

  But she did moan loudly when his fingers finally rolled over her nipples. Her head tipped back in delight and landed on his chest. She leaned against him, soaking his shirt, and neither cared.

  He reached lower, his nimble fingers skimming the skin over her trembling abdomen all the way to the top of her mons. She didn’t think he could, but damn, he had long arms. His thick fingers slipped between her slick clean-shaven folds. Yes! She silently screamed and was rewarded with that first touch to her throbbing clit.

  Holy! Moaning low and long, she tilted her hips for more.

  Harden had magic fingers. They strummed her clit at just the right angle, just the right tempo to send unbridled lust burning through her. Her hips chased his touch, but it was futile, and he chuckled darkly at her attempt. He slipped lower to her slick folds, teasing until she shuddered and choked on a whimper. She wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t.

  He pulled back to circle the throbbing nub, never touching it directly, just torturing her with the anticipation. The bastard gave her what he wanted her to have when he wanted and not before.

  Unexpectedly, he pressed her clit with his thumb and slid two thick fingers into her wet heat. That first stretch, so good. And when he began to thrust in and out, stroking her inner flesh, it was almost too much to bear.

  His stubbled jaw grazed her cheek, sending goose bumps across her skin. She angled her head, begging for his mouth, his tongue, teeth, a taste of him. She needed it. His lips covered hers in a blazing kiss while his thick fingers plunged into her wet depths. She rode those fingers, tilting her hips, trying to drive his fingers deeper and failing. Frustrated, she whimpered. Until he curled those fingers and rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves within her pussy. The sensation so intense, she babbled unintelligible nonsense because she was close to unraveling.

  He backed off, pulling his fingers out of her pussy. No, she silently cried while he licked his fingers clean in front of her eyes. He gripped her jaw. Digits clean of her juices, he angled her head until all she could see were his blue irises practically glowing.

  “I’m going to fuck you,” he said without a shadow of a doubt.

  She was totally on board with that plan because if he fucked like he ate pussy, sweet baby Jesus! Chop. Chop. Let’s get with the fucking.

  “Though I don’t want to. You and I are a bad idea.”

  She frowned, not insulted because he’d hit the nail on the head. They were a bad idea. However, if some things were fated, the lust arching between them certainly counted.

  A predatory grin twisted his firm lips as his gaze turned ravenous. “But I don’t give a shit anymore. I want you…and I always get what I want.”

  He scooped her up and settled her back into the tub, washing the suds from her skin, then lifted her out again. She slid down the length of his clothed body, drenching him. God, he was hard. Not just his cock making itself known by prodding h
er stomach, but all of him—arms, shoulders, chest, abs. She needed him naked to see all of him in his glory, but before that, she had a question. A single question as his lips hovered over hers. She had to ask, had to know before they moved forward. Would it change tonight’s outcome? Maybe… Yes, damn it, it would.

  Seconds before contact, she asked, “Did you eat Marilyn’s pussy in the skybox?”

  His hands on her waist steadying her tightened. His gaze turned stormy and a different kind of heat swam in their icy depths. “No. The only pussy I’ve eaten is yours.” His head lowered, bringing his lips a fraction closer.

  “Ever?” She teased as her jealousy abated a fraction.

  His grin was brash and all sorts of wicked. “I wouldn’t go that far. I wasn’t born with a knowledgeable tongue. I had the enthusiasm. I learned the skill.”

  He definitely had. An apt pupil, she gave him straight A’s. Truth carried the tone of his voice. It wasn’t enough.

  “Did you fuck her?

  That wicked smile remained. He knew what spurred the interrogation and loved it, the asshole. “No.” Same steady tone. Same steady conviction in his eyes. “I don’t want to spend tonight talking about who fucked who. Neither of us are saints, particularly me. Exes and old lovers won’t get between us.” His head dipped and he licked a path from her neck to her earlobe. All of her throbbed in response to his wicked tongue, his sharp teeth, and his rough growl in her ear. “This is gonna happen.”

  Silently agreeing, her fingers toyed with the buttons on his soaked shirt. One slipped free, then another. He watched as she exposed his chest one button at a time. Scars—two of them—one faint on his chest above his right nipple, the other not faint and low on his left side. Not surprising since the man was no saint and he hadn’t lived an ordinary life, yet she found them fascinating. Who had gotten close enough to stab the man, to cut into his skin and make him bleed, and were they still living? She traced both and felt him shiver at the contact.

  I made Harden Gage shiver.

  She needed him naked, now. Freeing his shirt from his pants, he allowed her to push it off his shoulders to let it drop in a wet heap at their feet. She reached for his belt, but she was over his shoulder, again.

  Her breath left her in a rush, and she slapped his back. “You like doing this!”

  He chuckled and strode from the bathroom to toss her wet body onto the king-size bed. She bounced, then settled on top of the duvet as Harden unbuckled and with deliberate intent, shoved his pants and underwear down his legs.

  Mmm… His dick didn’t disappoint. It was long and, damn, it was thick. Her pussy gave an involuntary ripple at the sight. And, my God, it’s so pretty. Veiny with a bulbous head, and hard, so hard. Impressive. The polite word came to mind, but it was more than impressive, just like the man stroking it from root to tip. Precum pearled at the tip. She was jealous of his hand running over that dewy tip, collecting that precum to enable the up and down glide of his palm. Her core clenched tightly on nothing but air.

  She wanted that cock buried balls deep inside her and not stopping until she creamed and screamed.

  “One question. Birth control?” he asked.

  “The pill. I’m clean. Got tested during my pregnancy, and I haven’t been with anyone since.”

  “I’m clean too, and it’s been awhile. I want to feel you but it’s your choice. Condom?”

  Silently, Jentry thanked him for asking and curled her fingers, beckoning him closer.

  Harden climbed onto the bed. Propped on her elbows, watching his approach, Jentry didn’t pretend she wasn’t slick and horny, desperate to be fucked. It was too late for all of that. She spread her legs and welcomed him. That first brush of his cock, motherofgod! She tilted her hips to get him inside her. He grabbed her hips and pinned her to the bed.

  “Don’t move.” He commanded.

  “Just do it.” She snarled. Carl had stuck it in and went for it whether she was ready for it or not, and when he came, it was over. She wanted Harden and was more than ready. “I don’t need foreplay.”

  “You don’t, do you?” He shifted and his cock moved from notched at her opening, to gliding again over her clit. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she flopped onto her back.

  The pleasure was sharp, wiping her mind clean for a few seconds. His tongue licked up the center of her body then veered right to suckle the curve of her breast. “Nipple. Nipple, please,” she begged and tugged on his hair.

  “Hmm… I thought you didn’t want foreplay.” He breathed against her tingling flesh and switched to the other breast. He sucked on the underside, then dragged his tongue up to lather her nipple. Pleasure laced through her at the rough rasp of his tongue on the hard point while he rolled the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

  His hips kept thrusting, rocking the length of his cock against her clit, timing his thrust with his nimble tongue, and fingers. With each thrust, a spark ignited in her blood, coiling the tension in her core tighter. She gasped. “Make me come. I wanna come.”

  He stopped stroking her clit and playing with her breasts. “No.” He notched his cock at her opening and slid home in one long, beautiful thrust.

  Mouth open on an abbreviated gasp, she arched into the delicious stretch. It burned. He was bigger than Carl, in every way, bigger than anyone she’d ever parted her legs for. Dark thoughts intruded, memories of hands and bodies, holding her down and taking what they wanted, hurting her and her going along with it for a man who turned her into a commodity for his gain.

  “Hey.” Lips stroked hers, followed by a tongue licking into her mouth. “Come back to me, Jentry. Come back.”

  She blinked and Harden’s face swam into view. “What happened?”

  “You went away, but now you’re back, with me.”

  She had gone away to places she’d promised to bury and never return. She wasn’t that person anymore and she’d never be that person again. A part of her wanted to shut down, push Harden away and crawl into a cave and never come again. A greater part of her recognized the beauty of the man braced above her, and the cock breaching her body. She was alive and living. Her heart beat every day. She lived through the pain and disappointment, the abuse and betrayal. She grew up, gave birth, took charge of her life. She survived, and part of surviving was not letting your mistakes define you, and not letting the past win. She was not the ink on her back. She belonged to no one but herself, and she chose to be here, in the moment, with the man she wanted.

  Heart, mind, and soul open, Jentry reached for Harden. He came to her willingly, kissing her gently until she demanded more, demanded all he had to give. She wrapped her legs around his hips and tilted her hips for more.

  He gave it with a slow stretching slide that didn’t cease until his blunt head kissed her womb. She was full, so full, she forced muscles she hadn’t used in a while to relax.

  His head dropped back on his neck. “Fuck, you feel…” Gripping her hips, he eased out and thrust back inside, deeper than before.

  “Yes,” she hissed and dug her nails into his arms, anchoring her to him and him to her. He dropped low and braced one hand by her head to kiss the hollow of her throat and lick up to her jaw and lips. His tongue invaded her mouth as his cock invaded her body. Each stroke was harder, longer, deeper. They created a cacophony of sound with their grunts and groans, sighs, moans, cries, and whimpers when hard and soft flesh merged. It was perfect. She didn’t know where she began and he ended.

  Her climax slammed into her, stealing her senses, her breath, her mind. She went rigid as her core spasmed as pleasure ripped through every cell. He kissed her, swallowing a scream that would’ve woken the entire building. He kissed with a savageness bordering on violence. And she kissed him back with everything she had while her orgasm echoed through her body.

  Drained, she came back to her senses to him thrusting gently inside her. But it cost him. His lips were peeled back in a grimace. He panted as if in pain, which probably wasn’t far f
rom the truth. He was steel inside her pussy, kicking off mini pulses.

  “Come for me,” she pleaded.

  “Not yet.” He grunted and propped her legs on his shoulders. Curled beneath him, she couldn’t move as he palmed her ass. Hard and fast, he fucked her like a man possessed, each thrust more devastating than the last. Her world boiled down to him and her, this moment and nothing else. His thumb strummed her clit. The orgasm rolled through her body in escalating waves until she shattered, the pleasure so intense the world went blank, except for his eyes. Those cold orbs pierced her blank world and were anything but frigid as he sped up.

  “Jentry.” Her name growled like a benediction sent a shiver down her spine. Throwing his head back, his cock bucked deep inside her and stayed. His entire body stiffened and his cock pulsed and flooded her inner walls. Pinned to the bed, she milked his length for everything he would give her and still wanted more.

  Slowly, he lowered her legs. Still joined, he stretched out on top of her. His kisses were gentle, yet thorough. Possessive, yet freeing. She flew even as he grounded her with the heat of his body and the strength of his arms.

  He slipped out of her body. The loss registered in her heart. When he rolled out of bed, Jentry curled in on herself, registering another loss.

  It’s okay. No one ever stays, and anyway, you really didn’t expect it.

  She pulled the blanket over her and buried herself in the pillow. Once he was gone, she’d clean up and put the night behind her. This was definitely a one and done.

  She heard him in the bathroom. The toilet flushing. The water running. He’d be gone, back to his room, in a few minutes. A few more seconds and she’d be alone again. The way she liked.

  He exited the bathroom with a wet washcloth in his hand. Peeking at him from under the blanket and pillow, she watched him approach the bed. He gripped the blanket and yanked it away. Shocked, she didn’t stop him from gently cleaning between her legs. She’d never had such intimate attention. Ever. It was…strange yet comforting. It spoke of a deeper intimacy she had no way to process.