by Piper James
And I did hate that.
She nodded and gave me a small smile before picking up her pizza and taking another bite. I smiled back, but it was forced and unnatural.
What just happened?
16
Jessa
What just happened?
My mind had been running rampant while we ate, and I’d felt this overwhelming need to set boundaries on this…whatever it was. I wanted to make sure Rafe realized there were no long-term possibilities, only the here and now, but somehow the conversation had taken a turn to…what? Me putting on the brakes altogether?
That’s not what I wanted. I wanted to lick that dab of hot sauce from the corner of his mouth while straddling his lap in the middle of this fucking restaurant. That’s what I wanted.
But no, I’d let the conversation get away from me, then just smiled and ate pizza like it was no biggie. Well, it was a biggie, damn it. I shot myself in the foot, and I had no idea how to fix it.
Rafe had been quick to agree with me when I made it sound like I just wanted to be friends. Too quick. That could only mean one thing—he wasn’t looking for more than that.
God, I was so inexperienced at this type of thing. In college, people just hooked up. It was sex, and nothing more. Both parties knew that, and when it was over, they went their separate ways.
Dating was complicated and messy. Feelings got tangled up with the physical stuff, and people got hurt. Someone always left. Someone always got abandoned.
I dropped my pizza crust to my plate and slid out of the booth. “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” I murmured, then fled like the scared little girl I was.
Scared of pain. Scared of heartbreak. Scared that Rafe Walton didn’t want me as bad as I wanted him.
The ladies’ room was blissfully empty when I walked in, and I blew out a relieved breath. Walking to the bank of sinks, I washed my hands before splashing cool water against my cheeks. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, I softly dried my face as I stared at my reflection.
I needed to get it together.
I’d never needed a man, and I wasn’t going to start needing one now. If Rafe wanted to keep our interactions casual and friendly, I could do that. I could ignore the lust that raged through me when I looked at him. I could keep my hands and mouth to myself and pretend like everything was cool. Totally cool.
I could be his friend.
I looked away from my reflection and the disappointment I saw in my eyes.
When I returned to the table, Rafe was paying our bill. I thanked him for lunch, and he smiled, thanking me for agreeing to come. We were very friendly, and I hated it. I also hated that I hated it.
I didn’t need more. I took care of myself, financially, emotionally, and physically. So, why was I obsessing over Rafe Walton? Why did his casual acceptance of my misguided words feel like a rejection of the highest order?
Silence reigned between us on the drive back to his house. It was thick and uncomfortable, yet I couldn’t find words to fill it that didn’t include touch me or taste me. My hand itched to grab his and put it on me, just to see what it would feel like. Just to see what he would do next.
Would he snatch it away? Or would he grab on tight, kneading my flesh with those long fingers until I couldn’t take it anymore? Until I begged him to push them inside me and ease the ache?
I was so keyed up by the time I pulled the Jeep to the curb in front of his house, I was practically vibrating with need. My imagination had run wild, and I needed relief. I was imagining which vibrator I’d use when I got home when Rafe spoke.
“What?” I asked, whipping my head toward him, startled like a teenage girl busted making out on the couch by her dad.
“I said I had a good time today,” he said, arching a brow at me.
I was being a weirdo. I forced myself to calm down, then smiled.
“Me, too. Thanks again for lunch.”
Rafe leaned over, but before I could celebrate or panic—not even I knew which of those two it would’ve been—his lips brushed against my cheek. Then he was gone, striding toward his front door without as much as a backward glance.
I stared at his closed front door for a moment, having wild daydreams about banging my fist against it and demanding he let me in, then dragging him to the floor and grinding against him.
I let out a shuddered breath, shifted the Jeep into drive, and headed home. Halfway there, I decided which vibrator I wanted.
The silver bullet. Definitely that one.
“Thanks for coming in, Jessa.”
“It’s not a problem. I was just sitting around the house bored while Dad pretended to nap, anyway,” I said, smirking as I tied my hair back into a ponytail.
Janice had called me earlier to tell me one of the waitresses had called in sick, and she couldn’t find anyone else to cover for her. I was up and getting dressed before I even got off the phone with her. I needed out of the house. Bad.
I loved my father, but I wasn’t used to being cooped up in a small space with him anymore.
“I know you closed the last two nights. You had to be looking forward to some time off. Maybe have a girls’ night or something,” Janice said, arching one silver brow at me.
“You know I don’t have any girlfriends, Janice.”
“Now, I don’t know if that’s true,” she shot back, nodding toward the dining area.
I looked over my shoulder and spotted Felicia and Karly taking their usual seats. They saw me and waved, so I waved back, tied on an apron, and made my way over to them.
“Hey, I thought you were staying in tonight?” Karly asked.
That’s what I’d told her when she’d texted me earlier, asking if I wanted to go out for drinks with her and Felicia. I’d felt guilty for leaving Dad alone the last two nights while I worked.
“Janice needed me,” I said, waving my receipt book in the air. “Besides, Dad was doing that thing again where he pretends to be asleep every time I check on him so he can watch his baseball game in peace.”
“Have you seen Dr. McHottie lately?” Felicia asked, giving me a Cheshire cat grin.
“Not since that disastrous lunch three days ago.”
“It was a setback, not a disaster,” Karly said.
The two of them had come into the bar two nights ago to see me, and it had taken them about three minutes to drag the whole sordid story out of me. They were convinced that I’d somehow read him wrong. That he’d only been reacting the way he thought I wanted him to react, and the whole thing was one big misunderstanding.
“He invited you to lunch, was a total gentleman, and you inadvertently friend-zoned him. It happens. Just admit the truth and jump his bones, girl,” Felicia said.
“Please, Jessa, we need to live vicariously through you,” Karly added.
“Speak for yourself,” Felicia said, bumping her shoulder against Karly’s. “I have no problem finding someone to warm my bed.”
“Ha! Only if you include your one sordid hookup at that convention last month.”
“Shut up, Karly.”
“Wait, I have got to hear this,” I cut in, breaking off their bickering, “but I can’t right now. Margaritas?”
They gave me a chorus of yeses, and I shot them a wink before heading back to the bar to give the bartender their order. The tables were filling up fast, and it was going to be a busy night…just how I preferred it.
“Hey, sweet cheeks, how about a couple of beers over here?”
I glanced over my shoulder and held up a finger, telling the men I’d be there in just a minute. I gave them a saucy smile, ignoring the sexist nickname. I could take the crudeness if it meant better tips, and even though this wasn’t my actual job—not that I had one anymore—that mindset was firmly ingrained. Let the misogynistic assholes think I was a cute simpleton who enjoyed their crass flirting, and they’d tip well.
I dropped the girls’ margaritas off at their table, rolling my eyes as Felicia mouthed the words, “sweet cheeks?�
�� I rubbed my thumb against my fingertips in the universal symbol for money, and then threw a little extra sway in my hips as I sauntered over to take the men’s orders.
The two men looked to be in their late forties or early fifties, and if the black grease caked under their fingernails was any indication, they were mechanics of some sort. Their blue shirts had nametags sewn onto them. I barely managed to keep my laughter in check.
“What can I get you, Bert?” I asked, cocking a hip.
“How’d you know my name, honey?” he purred.
I tapped my pen against his nametag. “Read it right there.”
“Oh,” he said gruffly, as if he’d been expecting me to say I’d asked around about him. “I’ll have a light draft. Whatever you have on tap.”
I nodded and turned to his friend. “And you, Ernie?”
I don’t know how I kept it together. My eyes stung with the need to laugh, but that would be rude. Helping run this place for Dad meant keeping business booming, not insulting the customers because they had unfortunate names.
But come on. Bert and Ernie? That shit is funny.
Ernie ordered the same, and I sashayed off to put their orders in with the bartender. It could be exhausting, playing the part of sexy waitress just for the tips. Especially when it reminded me of how my mom got her hooks into my dad. She played this part, and she played it well. Maybe it ran in my blood.
No, I thought, shaking my head as I moved to take orders from another table. I wasn’t trying to trick anyone into marriage or get them to set me up in some lavish sex-palace. I was only playing a part, giving the customers what they wanted so they’d have a good experience and tip accordingly. It was just good business.
Once I had all my tables settled with their food and drink orders, I poured myself a glass of water and headed back to Karly and Felicia. Plopping down into a chair, I sighed and chugged a third of the glass.
“You look like you could use something stronger,” Karly said, pushing her margarita toward me. “Want a sip?”
“No, thanks,” I said, smiling. “I just need to sit for a minute.”
“So, back to Rafe,” Felicia said, waggling her eyebrows.
“No,” I said simply.
“Come on, Jessa. You want him. He wants you. What’s the problem?”
“I’m not sure he wants me,” I said, but the words sounded false even to my own ears.
I’d seen sparks of something in his eyes. Something that didn’t resemble friendship. He’d tried to hide it, but I’d grown up in a bar. I’d seen men look at women like that my whole life, and I knew what it meant. Ignoring it didn’t make it go away. Rafe was interested. But in what? A quick casual hookup? Something more?
That’s what scared me.
“What is scaring you about this?” Felicia asked, almost as if she’d read my thoughts.
“I told you,” I said, shrugging. “I don’t want a relationship.”
She nodded, obviously remembering what I told them about my mother and my fear of abandonment. Then she tilted her head and stared deep into my eyes.
“Then you set the ground rules. Tell him what you want, Jessa Maddox, then let him decide if he wants to give it to you.”
17
Rafe
I was giving off major stalker vibes, and I knew it. I took a table in a dark corner, one that I’d confirmed was in another waitress’s station so Jessa wouldn’t be the one to serve me. I just wanted to see her.
And rather than call or text like a normal person and set up a time to hang out with my friend, I decided stalking her at work was the better option. For an educated man, I could be really stupid sometimes.
As far as I could tell, she hadn’t noticed me yet.
She was standing at the bar, getting yet another round of beers for two older guys in her section, and she looked tired. It was nearing closing, and those two had been getting louder and louder with every beer they drank.
She stopped by their table with her back to me, bending slightly at the waist to place their mugs on the surface. I was admiring her ass when one of the men reached over and touched her. My eyes flared and my heart stopped as his fingers brushed up the back of her thigh, angling toward the inside as they reached the apex.
I leapt to my feet, ignoring my chair as it flew backwards and banged against the floor. As I charged toward them, I barely registered Jessa’s small hand curling into a fist and socking the guy right in the throat. His chair fell backward with him still in it, his hands clasped to this throat as he gurgled something unintelligible.
Jessa cursed and shook her wrist, then froze with shock as she saw me stalking toward the fray. I passed by her without a word, yanked the man from the floor, and held him up by the collar of his shirt.
“Apologize to the lady,” I growled.
When he just patted his esophagus without speaking, I shook him hard enough to make his teeth rattle. “Apologize. Now.”
“I’m…sorr…sorry,” he wheezed.
“Now pull out your wallet, and pay your tab. Don’t forget a nice, big tip.”
The man complied, dropping a few twenties on the table. I looked at Jessa, ticking my head toward the money. She glanced down before looking back at me and nodding.
Then I dragged that piece of shit to the front door and threw him out. His friend gave me a wide berth as he scurried through the opening, picked up his friend, and led him out to the street. I watched for a moment, making sure they weren’t going to do something stupid like circle back and wait for me in the parking lot.
When I turned around and let the door swing closed, all eyes in the bar were on me. Jessa’s friends were staring with wide eyes and slightly manic smiles, but I didn’t try to decipher their meaning. My eyes roved the room until they found Jessa standing by the bar. I strode toward her, my blood still boiling in my veins.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my chest heaving.
“Yeah,” she said, shaking her wrist. “It’s just a little sore. Are you okay?”
“Jessa, maybe you should take this to your dad’s office,” an older woman with silver hair called out from behind the bar.
“Thanks, Janice,” Jessa replied, then turned back to me with a jerk of her head. “Come on.”
She led me behind the bar, through the kitchen where two young guys were cooking various bar menu foods, and into a small office in the back. She walked through the doorway, then stepped to the side as I entered. Then she closed the door and leaned back against it.
“What was that?” she asked.
“He touched you.” The words tumbled out without permission, but I didn’t want to take them back. I was still seething.
“And I took care of it,” she said.
I felt one corner of my mouth tug upward, despite my lingering anger. “Yes. You did.”
“Why are you even here?” she asked, shaking her head. “I know you don’t drink.”
I blinked a few times as I tried to come up with a valid excuse. When nothing clever came to me, I decided to go with the truth.
“I wanted to see you.”
“Why?” she asked, tilting her head and taking one small step toward me.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
There. I said it.
My heart rate kicked into overdrive as I waited for her response. Her eyebrows drew down, and she bit her lip as if she were trying to make a decision. I was trying not to groan in pleasure at the sight of it, imagining what those teeth would feel like on my flesh.
“I think about you, too,” she said finally.
We stared at each other for a long moment as I thought about her admission and what it might mean. Were her thoughts about me of a friendly nature? Or more on a carnal level, like mine? Did she imagine what it would feel like, having her body pressed against mine? Having my tongue explore every inch of her skin?
I knew I should say something before the silence stretching between us became any more awkward.
Before
I could utter a word, she was on me, her hands slipping into my hair as her mouth pressed against mine. It took a couple of seconds for my brain to register what was happening, then a couple more for me to actually believe it.
When her tongue brushed over the seam of my lips, I snapped into action. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I yanked her against me. I parted my lips and her tongue delved inside, tasting me. Allowing me to taste her.
She tasted like cinnamon and heaven.
That groan I’d been holding back escaped as I angled my head and deepened the kiss. Jessa’s own growl echoed back to me, making me feel lightheaded. I walked her backward until her body leaned against the office door, then pressed my weight against her.
Her fingers tugged at my hair as my hands slid down to her ass, kneading it for a few seconds before lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around my waist just like I wanted, bringing her as close to me as any person could be while still fully clothed.
My fingers slid up beneath the hem of her shirt, teasing her bare stomach before slowly creeping upward. She kissed me harder, moaning little encouraging sounds that demanded I go faster. But I refused to be rushed. I felt like I’d been waiting forever for this, and I wanted to savor it. Stamp each inch of her skin in my memory so I’d never forget what she felt like.
I could feel her frustration mounting, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t give me some small degree of pleasure. She wanted my hands on her just as much as I wanted to put them there.
Then those pearly white teeth sank into my bottom lip, and I lost my shit. My creeping hand shot up to her breast, squeezing it as my thumb flicked the hard pebble of her nipple through her bra. She released her grip on my lip, her mouth moving down to lick and nip at the skin of my throat.
I ground my body against hers, and the friction felt like heaven and hell rolled into one frantic moment. I released her breast and slid my hand around her back with the sole intent of undoing the clasp of her bra. My fingers had barely plucked the material when a soft knock sounded on the door behind Jessa.
