by Mari Carr
“Jake,” she said in the sweetest voice she could muster.
“Yeah?”
“Can you put just a little bit inside me?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Seriously. You’re using the just the tip line on me?”
What the hell.
“Yep.”
“Hope,” he started.
“Please,” she interrupted, not willing to listen to any more of his reasons why this was wrong or wouldn’t work. “Only a little bit? It’s been so long and I need, well, I just need to feel you inside me.”
He glanced toward the doorway. “Condoms are in the bathroom.” He shifted as if to leave the bed, but she gripped his arm, holding tight.
“I’m on the pill,” she said. “Started taking it about three seconds after George was born and I’ve never missed a day. I swear.”
He froze. “I’ve never had sex without a condom.”
She giggled. “I have.”
He swatted her ass once more, and this time, there was enough force that it stung for a second before the spot glowed hot.
Oh, hell yeah.
She was going to need him to spank her properly before she left his bed for good.
“I’m being serious, Hope.”
“So am I. If you want it, go get it. But…” She shrugged. “I don’t need it.”
One glance at his face told him he wanted what she was offering and he wanted it bad.
Jake blew out a long breath, then shifted, reaching down and gripping his cock, placing the head at her opening. “I have some lubrication.” He ran one finger over her slit, then chuckled. “But it doesn’t feel like we need it.”
She started to turn over, but he held her in place.
“This way,” he said.
She knew his game immediately. He was determined to give her exactly what she’d asked for and no more.
Hope sucked in a deep breath when she felt the head of his dick nudging at her opening. Jake moved slowly. She was wet and hot, and the orgasms earlier had only scratched the surface of her needs. She wanted this, wanted him.
He slid in slowly, filling her in a beautifully tight, not painful way.
She shivered and whispered, “God. Yes.”
Jake stopped, but she didn’t have enough of him—nowhere near enough.
She pushed her hips backwards, several more inches slipping in before he gripped her waist to stop her.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured.
“More,” she demanded, shifting back again, more of him filling her as she groaned with delight.
“Dammit, Hope. Wait.”
“No.” She was through with waiting. She’d spent the last six years devoting herself to her son, her studies. Tonight was for her, and she wanted everything he had to give her, every thick, delicious inch. Reaching behind her, she wrapped her hand around his cock. There was still a good six inches left to go.
She wanted him. All of him.
“I’m trying really hard not to hurt you, sweetheart, but I’m only human and—”
Hope released him as she bent forward at the waist, moving the top part of her body away from him, until they were lying on their sides, positioned doggy style, then she pushed back harder, faster.
“Oh my God,” she yelled. “Yes. Jesus. Yes.”
One of Jake’s hands was hard on her hip, the fingers digging in, but it didn’t feel like he was trying to hold her back anymore. When he said, “Get up on your hands and knees,” in a husky, gravelly voice, she knew she’d won.
They shifted into the new position with him still buried deep inside her. Every move they made was exquisite torture.
Once she was on her hands and knees, she looked over her shoulder to where he knelt behind her.
He was breathing hard, holding back, still playing the gentleman.
“How do you want it?” she asked, repeating the same question he’d posed to her only a couple hours earlier.
His eyes narrowed and he started to shake his head.
“Hard and fast it is,” she said as she slid forward, pulling away from his dick until only the head remained. Then she shifted backwards, gasping when she’d taken in even more than before. He was buried deep, so fucking deep, and she loved it. Loved the stretch, the burn.
Hope started to repeat the motion, but Jake’s leash slipped. He wasn’t a passive lover. He’d proven that in their first two encounters. She’d finally pushed him to his breaking point, to the place where the dominant lover took off the kid gloves and gave both of them exactly what they wanted.
One of his hands gripped the base of his dick, limiting how much slid in, while the other was wrapped up in her hair. He tugged on it until she followed the direction, her upper body rising, her back resting against his chest.
Jake’s breath was hot against her neck. “You’re a little fool,” he murmured, kissing her neck.
She trembled with need.
He bit her shoulder. “And you’re mine.”
Hope’s chest constricted, her pussy clenching at the thought of how much she truly wanted that. Wanted to be his. For more than just tonight.
Maybe forever.
After that, there was nothing holding either of them back. She fell forward once more, barely able to hold herself up as Jake took her from behind, his closed fist was still on the base of his cock, withholding several inches.
She wanted it all, but she knew he wouldn’t relent.
She met him thrust for thrust, coming after only a half dozen strokes.
Jake kept moving in and out as she shook her way through the orgasm. She felt him everywhere, and there was some reasonable part of her brain that thought this should hurt.
It didn’t.
In truth, it felt as if their bodies were made for each other.
“God,” Jake cried out. “Hope, it feels too good. I. Can’t. Stop—”
Her back arched and she came again, the second orgasm crashing in unexpectedly, right on the heels of the first.
He jerked roughly, his hand gripping her hip as he came, her name the only word he seemed capable of saying. “Hope. Hope. Sweet Hope.”
She quivered when he withdrew, hating the empty feeling he’d left behind.
Hope fell onto her stomach on the bed, her strength gone. Jake lay down next to her, so she twisted to face him, both of them struggling to catch their breath.
His hand rested on her waist and she marveled at how much she loved even that simple touch.
Neither of them spoke.
Instead, they simply looked at each other until they fell asleep.
Hope woke up first the next morning, a thin strip of sunlight streaming through the closed curtains in Jake’s bedroom. Her phone beeped and she recalled George and the sleepover. It had been his first time spending the night with a friend. She’d been so wrapped up in her plans with Jake, she hadn’t had time to worry about how that might go until the moment she heard that beep.
Reaching for the phone, she groggily tried to wake up. Her body hurt in all the right places and her head was fuzzy from so much amazing sex.
She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the words. They didn’t make any sense.
I’m living for Monday.
A quick glance said the text was from Lauren, but she didn’t have any plans with Lauren on Monday. Clicking, she scrolled through the previous few texts, the words still slightly blurry, until she found the first text in the thread.
You should have stayed longer. Tequila makes me very horny. You would have liked the things I’d planned to do to you.
What the fuck was that?
Then Hope realized this wasn’t her phone. It was Jake’s.
At that point, she should have put the damn thing down.
Of course, she didn’t.
The next text was from Jake.
Behave, Lauren. We still on for next week?
Next week?
What?
That question led Hope straight back to Lauren’s latest text t
his morning.
Lauren and Jake had plans for Monday. While Hope was lying in his bed, he already had plans for the next date, the next woman.
The fact it was Lauren only added more salt to the wound. Or it had.
Until Lauren sent another text on the heels of the last.
Can’t wait for you to fill me up with that big hose.
Hope’s feet were moving before her brain could fully process the words. A wave of shame and regret and embarrassment washed over her. She’d only felt this way one other time.
It was the day she’d stopped by Alan’s frat house to tell him she was pregnant. She had knocked on the door to his bedroom and Jessica Palmer answered, wearing one of Alan’s T-shirts and nothing else. She’d smirked when she saw Hope standing there. Somehow she had found the courage to ask Alan if they could talk. He’d come out in the hall, she’d dropped her baby bomb, and he’d told her he didn’t even remember having sex with her, asking how she could be sure it was really his baby.
Hope hadn’t stuck around after that.
She’d simply turned around and left the frat house, gone to her room in the dorm, packed up all her stuff, and called her parents.
She wiped her nose, hating the tears streaming down her face as she pulled on her cold, clammy clothing. Jake had draped her rain-soaked jeans and shirt over the back of a chair, but neither had completely dried.
She didn’t care. She just had to get out of here before he woke up. There was no way she was going to let another guy push her aside for another woman.
She had come here to get laid.
Mission accomplished.
Hope snuck down the hallway, not daring to breathe until she was out of the fire station and on the street. She walked all the way back to her car, climbed in, and tried to start the damn thing before she remembered she was out of gas.
That was when the crying started. She rested her forehead against the steering wheel, sobbing.
She’d done it again.
Fallen hard and fast for the wrong guy.
Chapter 8
Jake glanced toward the parking lot for the hundredth time since arriving at the ball field. Hope still wasn’t here and practice was supposed to start in a couple of minutes.
He’d called and texted her at least two dozen times since Saturday morning, but every single time, his calls went to voicemail and his texts unanswered. Three times he’d hopped in his truck, intent on swinging by her place to see her, but every single time, he had been stopped by a fire call, stuck dealing with something that kept him busy until it was too late to go to her house.
Now it was Tuesday afternoon and there was no denying the truth.
She was avoiding him.
Jake had replayed their night together over and over so many times, it felt as if every second of it was tattooed on his brain. He kept trying to figure out where it went wrong, what he’d failed to see.
It had been the single greatest night of his life. And he’d honestly believed—right up until he’d woken up in an empty bed and not a note in the house—that she had enjoyed it as well.
The idea that she was hiding from him made him sick to his stomach.
Had he hurt her? Physically?
He hadn’t imagined the orgasms she’d had, but maybe she’d woken up in pain and reconsidered, decided she couldn’t be with him.
Hard as he tried, he couldn’t make that idea fit with the reality of the night they’d shared. It had been incredible and most of the sex—at least at the beginning—had been driven by her. She hadn’t recoiled or complained of pain—two things he’d experienced more than a few times with past lovers.
If anything, his sweet, near-virgin had been the most open, the most trusting lover he’d ever taken to bed.
After one last look at the parking lot, Jake gave up and called the boys together on the field. She wasn’t coming. If only that didn’t make his chest hurt so much.
He wasn’t used to feeling like this. He’d never had trouble walking away in the past. A night or three in the sack and then so long, farewell, with no backward glances.
This time he was pining over Hope like some teenage boy with his first crush, and he was starting to feel like a chump.
To add insult to injury, he missed George as well. The practice was nowhere near as much fun without George’s energy and spiritedness, and he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. The boys weren’t quite as into the practice, going through the motions without their usual enthusiasm.
They were about ten minutes into batting practice when George sprinted out onto the field. Several of the boys ran over to greet him, slapping him on the back and grinning widely.
“Hey, George,” Jake said. “I was starting to worry about you.”
Jake’s gaze flew over the little boy’s head to the stands. Hope was there, talking to a couple of the other moms. She didn’t look his direction.
“Mommy had to work late,” George complained. “I told her we had to hurry.” From his extra-high level of energy and the undeniable look of impatience still on his face, Jake would say the little boy had been nagging Hope nonstop since school was over.
Jake continued with practice, sneaking glances at Hope the entire time, hating how her eyes took in everything and anything to avoid looking his way.
Finally, seventeen years later, practice ended. Jake didn’t bother with any reminders or last words of instruction. Hope was already standing next to the bleachers, purse over her arm, car keys in hand, clearly intending to make a break for it. He planned to head her off at the pass. There was no way he was letting her leave here without talking to her. He had to know what he’d done wrong, so he could figure out how to fix it.
Jake missed talking to her, kissing her, being with her.
A handful of dates and the woman had burrowed so deep into his subconscious, he couldn’t make it more than five minutes without thinking of her.
Jake made a beeline for the bleachers and was no more than ten feet away when someone stepped directly in front of him. He pulled up short.
“Jake, wait.”
He didn’t bother to hide his scowl when he found Lauren there. The woman had been a pain in his ass since sophomore year of high school, continually throwing herself at him, dropping sexual innuendoes into every conversation, finding ways to always be wherever he was. For the first handful of years, he’d pushed her away pretty vigorously, rebuffing her advances and calling her out for her flirting and inappropriate comments.
However, Lauren thrived on rejection, taking his refusal to date her as a personal challenge. The more he resisted, the harder she tried. Lately, he’d decided it was easier to ignore and avoid her as much as possible. That was difficult, considering they lived in a small town and his dad was married to her best friend. Wherever Scarlett was, Lauren was, and apparently the two of them had hatched some twisted scheme lately, deciding their world would be perfect if Jake was married to Lauren.
Hell would freeze over before he even so much as touched the woman.
“Not now, Lauren,” he said, trying to step around her. She glanced over her shoulder and followed the direction of his gaze. He barely restrained himself from cursing at her when she put her hand on his chest. He glanced down and shot her a warning look. Lauren typically failed to read his social clues or body language, but his expression this time must have been dark enough to penetrate. She wisely lowered her hand.
“You look hot in that hat. You know I’ve got a thing for ballplayers and guys who wield a wicked bat.”
“I’m in a hurry.” Jake looked over her shoulder, trying to find Hope. George had reached her and she was attempting to make a quick escape.
“Hope,” he called out. “Wait.”
For the first time since she’d arrived, she looked at him. Then her eyes drifted to Lauren, who was standing too close to him. Hope frowned and glanced away. Jake knew she had no fondness for Lauren, but neither did he. Surely she knew that.
He moved
toward Hope, but Lauren wasn’t finished causing trouble.
“I want to thank you for last night, Jake. You were great.”
Jake winced. Lauren had chosen her words carefully and called them out loud enough for him—and Hope—to hear.
He turned around and shot Lauren a dirty look, but his response only egged her on. She winked and blew a kiss. “See you later, Big Hose.”
If he’d had the time, he would have set Lauren straight once and for all on this bullshit of hers.
The two of them were never happening.
Never.
Sadly, he didn’t have the time to waste on her at the moment. Hope and George were halfway to the parking lot.
“Hope,” Jake said, instinctively reaching for her hand, when he caught up to them. The second he touched her, she recoiled from him like he was on fire.
“Can we go to the arcade with you and Scott again?” George asked excitedly, jumping around them.
“I’m afraid I don’t have Scott tonight,” Jake said, pointing toward the parking lot where Scott and Scarlett were waiting. He spotted Lauren getting into the passenger’s seat too late. She waved to him, grinning widely. “But if you two don’t have plans for din—”
“We do,” Hope said, before he could finish issuing his invitation.
He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t, so they stood there for a few awkward moments.
“Can you come over and play ball one day?” George asked.
Jake glanced at Hope. They had to clear the air before he could promise that, but what he needed to say to her couldn’t be said in front of George.
“I, um,” Jake hedged.
“That’s not going to be possible, George. Jake is pretty busy at the fire station.” Hope crossed her arms. He could read her body language well enough to see she was uncomfortable too.
George wilted, looking dejected. Jake recognized that look well enough. He’d worn it himself, every time his mom and one of his “uncles” broke up. He’d lost count of how many times he’d had his feelings hurt as he watched a guy he thought cared about him walk away because he and his mom didn’t work out. Jake didn’t like the idea that George might feel that way about him.
