Nobody But You

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Nobody But You Page 9

by Jill Shalvis


  “My favorite,” he said. “Even if I don’t have a hangover.”

  “Bastard,” she said, and reached out to snatch the bag back, but he held it out of her reach.

  He smiled. “I’ll let you keep the boat moored here tonight.”

  “Two nights,” she said instantly. Hell, she might be a sucker for a hot guy, but she wasn’t stupid.

  He smiled. “Two,” he said so easily she wished she’d asked for a week. She opened her mouth and then hesitated.

  “What?” he asked.

  “We’re really not going to talk about it?”

  “You wanting a spanking?” he asked. “Sure, but I’m much more an action guy than a talker, so…” He patted his knee.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Try it and you’ll be walking funny. Forever.”

  He laughed. And dammit, he had a really great laugh.

  “And I meant the kiss,” she said.

  Jacob was quiet for a beat, and she started to get more than a little annoyed. That annoyance kicked up a notch when he finally spoke.

  “Thought it best to leave it alone,” he said, calm as you please. Like maybe he hadn’t been driven nearly as crazy as she by said kisses.

  I like you. I like you a lot…

  Confused, unsettled, she got to her feet, but he did the same, wrapping an arm around her to halt her progress. His eyes, intense and hungry, fixed on her mouth. Her skin came alive with hot pleasure, and her bones liquefied. He kissed her then, deep and hungry and powerful, his hips sliding against hers.

  He was hard. For her. And at that realization, the stupid boat, her money troubles, her entire screwed-up life all faded away.

  It was like she’d never been kissed before him. Like a dormant part of her had been waiting all her life for this one kiss to wake her up.

  His fingers slid beneath the hem of her sweatshirt, settling against her bare midriff. They were long and callused and warm. She could feel the latent, easy strength of him, at rest now, but she was very aware that beneath his surface was a power she didn’t understand and wasn’t sure she could handle.

  She could also feel his palms just beneath the curve of her breasts. He was waiting for something. He was waiting on her, she realized. This big, alpha guy wasn’t going to make a move unless she gave him a sign that she wanted him to.

  And oh, she wanted. That wasn’t the question. The question was…did she trust her own judgment right now? Honestly, she didn’t know, which must have shown in her eyes, because with a small, wry smile, he pulled free. “Looks like you have yet another choice to make,” he said. “You’ll let me know when.”

  “When what?” she asked, her voice raspy.

  “When you’re ready for me.”

  We’re ready. We’re ready, her good parts screamed.

  But her brain wouldn’t shut up. It’s too fast. You don’t want to be just a hookup.

  But why not? her good parts argued. You tried love and got kicked in the teeth! Let’s try something new. Let’s try him.

  She was still just staring up at him when he playfully tugged a strand of her untamed morning hair and said, “We’ll have to play another round of three truths and a lie sometime.” He smiled. “Unless you’d rather play Fifty Shades.”

  “Seriously,” she said, even as she felt the heat of her blush rush up her face. And if she was being honest, other parts too. “Walking funny for a very, very long time.”

  He grinned.

  She pointed to the food she’d given him. “Consider that payment for today’s parking pass. I’m going to want a receipt.”

  He laughed and surprised her by hauling her to him again. She hadn’t realized she was chilled, but at the way he touched her, something deep inside her warmed. Then her thought process derailed completely, when he kissed her again, slow, deep, hot. She felt immersed in him, in his scent, the feel of his hard body against hers, the sound of his breathing…the feel of his heartbeat beneath her hands.

  “Receipt received,” she murmured, dizzy with desire, so much desire. She licked her lips, wanting a last taste of him, though it wasn’t enough.

  Not even close.

  It’d been so long since someone had touched her like she was so sexy he could do nothing else, like she was worth something, like she meant something to him. She knew there was more to life than a sexual connection, but sometimes a sexual connection was good, really good. God, she needed this, needed him, and she decided right then and there not to let herself worry about what-ifs or later or anything but now. Especially because now was all she had. The rest of her life was in complete flux. And Jacob…well, he was here for his family and that was it. He too had only the now. It was perfect. And how often had anything in her life been perfect? “Jacob?”

  “Yeah?”

  “When,” she whispered.

  He stilled for a beat, searching her expression. She hoped he found everything he needed to know there, because she’d lost her words. All she had was that hunger and need burning her up from the inside out.

  Holding her gaze, he took her hand in his and brushed his mouth over her palm.

  Her thighs quivered.

  His fingers squeezed hers. “Be sure, Soph.”

  “I’m the one who said ‘when,’” she reminded him, and then paused. “Are you sure?”

  He hauled her against him, wrapping her up tight in his warm, strong arms and then rocked his hips to hers.

  He was hard.

  Yep, he was sure.

  “I told you I wanted this,” he said. “That I wanted you.”

  “Yes, but you were under the influence.” She stared into his eyes. “Maybe I wasn’t sure you meant it.”

  “I mean everything I say.” His voice rumbled quietly in his chest, vibrating against hers. “Always.”

  She shook her head in automatic denial. “I don’t buy into promises. I don’t want anything like that from you. From anyone.”

  “We’ll circle back to that later.”

  “No,” she said. “We won’t. No need. I know what this is, and I especially know what this isn’t.”

  “So you have a crystal ball, then,” he said.

  Stepping back, she crossed her arms over her chest. “This isn’t going exactly the way I expected.”

  “You expected what, a quick fuck, no words?”

  “Yes, please,” she said. “You going to deliver or not?”

  He laughed low in his throat. “Now she says the ‘please,’” he said, apparently to no one in particular. Then he met her gaze. “I can deliver.” This was a low, husky, confident vow.

  She shivered in anticipation. “You keep saying stuff like that, but I’m still standing here waiting for you to prove it.”

  “Our first kiss wasn’t proof enough? Or our second?”

  She shrugged, feeling overheated and uncomfortably aroused and a little bit like he was just teasing her. “A kiss is a kiss. They’re all the same to me.”

  “Liar.”

  She felt herself flush, the heat rising all the way to the roots of her hair. Caught. Because she knew exactly how good it’d been when he’d taken her in his arms and kissed her. She couldn’t forget a single second of any of it, all indelibly imprinted in her brain, every brush of his mouth, every touch of his fingers, every rough male sound of appreciation torn from his throat.

  She started to turn away, but he pulled her back to him, her spine to his chest, her butt to his crotch.

  He was still hard, deliciously so, and she couldn’t help but wriggle into him.

  He whipped her around to face him, and his eyes were dark and flickering with something much more than amusement now. Challenge and heat, both of those things licking along her every nerve ending. “Let me show you,” he said, and lowered his head. But he surprised her when he spent a moment nuzzling at her jaw, murmuring softly against her ear. “We’re doing this.”

  She clutched at him. “Yes.” God, yes.

  Wrapping his hand up in her ponytail, he gently but
firmly tugged until she lifted her face to his. “If I’m going to be in your bed, Sophie, you’re mine for the duration.”

  And hell if that didn’t set back her inner feminist when her entire body quivered at the thought of being his. “But not in a Fifty Shades way, right?”

  He flashed a grin. “Scared?”

  Terrified. “You should know a few things about me,” she said. “One, I really am good at shoving a guy’s balls into his throat.”

  “Duly noted,” he said. “And two?”

  This was the hard part. She swallowed. “I’m really pretty vanilla.”

  His eyes softened and he kissed her gently. “One of my favorite flavors,” he murmured.

  Something inside her melted. “One more thing.”

  “Name it,” he said.

  “It’s going to have to be your bed. Mine’s too small.”

  He smiled a very naughty smile. “Then I guess that makes me yours.”

  She quivered at the thought. “Tell me you get hot water in your shower.”

  “The hottest.”

  “Jacob?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Hurry.”

  Chapter 9

  Sophie barely registered Jacob taking her hand, pulling her from the boat, the both of them moving up the dock, across the beach to his cabin.

  Remembered nothing of the interior of his place or how they got to his bedroom. Remembered nothing but him kicking the door closed and pushing her up against it and kissing her.

  He was hers, she thought with dazed marvel. Hers for the duration. A thrill raced through her as she fought to get even closer to him. Oh, the things she wanted to do to that hard, lean, perfect body holding her to the door, starting with licking him from chin to the waistband of those sexy board shorts and beyond. Just thinking about it had needy whimpers escaping while their mouths tangoed.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered roughly, his teeth scraping her throat as his hands slid down her thighs and lifted her up so that she could wrap her legs around him. “I’ve got you.”

  She had no idea what that meant exactly, but she was racing to her first orgasm in far too long and she was very busy trying to get her hands beneath his shirt, needing his heated skin on hers. Her fingers danced over the sculpted landscape of his sleek back and then came around to his chest, where she could once again feel the beat of his heart, not nearly so steady now. With a soft sigh, she went up on tiptoes and nipped his lower lip between her teeth, tugging at it before letting go.

  His dark eyes blazed with promises of the retribution she wanted. She wanted him so badly she was shaking, wanted to be held, and for just a little while, wanted to lose herself. And she wanted the same for him, wanted him to be able to lose himself in her too.

  Their bodies strained to get closer, but a sheet of paper couldn’t fit between them. Her racing pulse throbbed so loudly in her own ears she couldn’t hear anything else. But then Jacob smiled that incomparable smile and she did hear something, her inner voice saying “uh-oh” in a dazed voice. You’re going to get more than you bargained for. Remember, every good thing that’s ever come into your life has cost you in blood, sweat, or tears…

  “Shut up,” she said.

  Jacob pulled back, a brow raised.

  “Not you!” she said quickly. “My inner voice.” She shook her head. “Ignore her. She’s a bitch.”

  He laughed low in his throat and caressed the mad curls at her hairline, drawing a finger down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. “I like her,” he said, and then covered her mouth with his again, possessing her with sweetness and ferocity, the carnal intensity of it knocking her for a loop.

  When they broke apart to breathe, Jacob held her gaze as he let her legs slide to the ground. He hit the lock on his bedroom door. Reached behind him for the hand she had pressed low on his back, taking her cell phone from her weak fingers, setting it aside. His phone was removed from his pocket and suffered the same fate.

  Then he pulled off his shirt, and while she stood there gawking at all the mind-boggling hotness—those shoulders! that chest! the abs!—he kicked off his shoes. This left him in those low-slung board shorts, which were just loose enough to gap away from mouthwatering abs, giving her a tantalizing, teasing glimpse of a treasure trail.

  Before her fingers could reach out and touch, he unzipped her sweatshirt and discovered her secret.

  She had nothing on beneath.

  “I was in a hurry to get food,” she said in explanation.

  His growl was low and appreciative as his big, warm hands slid up her bare torso and cupped her breasts. “Make my day and tell me you’re completely commando,” he said hoarsely, his fingers rasping over her tight and aching nipples.

  “I might be—” She broke off with a gasp when in the next beat her sweatpants were at her ankles.

  Note to self: maybe not quite ready for prime time with Jacob Kincaid.

  “Yeah,” he said, voice filled with so much heat she nearly collapsed. “You went completely commando.”

  “Food, Jacob! I needed food!”

  He laughed low in his throat, and his hands moving over her, slow and sure and igniting flames wherever they touched, which was everywhere. “Still need food?” he asked.

  He had one hand on her ass and the other slowly gliding down her belly, heading south. “I…”

  Those talented fingers of his slid between her thighs with a gentle but knowing stroke, and she forgot what she was going to say.

  “Soph. Food? Or this?” This being a very naughty, very knowing glide of his fingers.

  She opened her mouth to tease him and say food, but he did something diabolical with the pad of his thumb and she gasped and clutched at him. “Your shorts,” she managed. “You’re still wearing them.”

  A wicked smile crossed his mouth as he stripped free of them in a single economical movement.

  Before she could get a look at the goods, he wrestled her onto his bed. “I fantasized about this last night,” he said, crawling up between her legs and pinning her with his delicious weight.

  “About me going commando?”

  He smiled, intense, dangerous. “About you beneath me on my bed,” he said, and then rolled so that she now straddled him. “And over me. Scoot up, Soph.”

  “Um, what?” Scoot up? To where?

  Jacob didn’t repeat himself, just slipped his arms beneath her thighs and physically lifted her farther up his chest and then…

  Oh God, and then.

  His hands were on her ass, his mouth on ground zero.

  She did her best to pretend she’d been in this position before, but the truth was she had absolutely no idea what to do with herself. She was literally sitting on his face! Deer in the headlights, she stilled, her hands fluttering in the air.

  Beneath her, he let out what might have been a low laugh—she’d kill him later, she promised herself—and grabbed her hands, bringing them to the headboard above him, waiting until she’d taken hold of the wood spindles to squeeze, letting her know he wanted her grip on them tight.

  Since she was on an unknown roller-coaster ride without a harness, she could do little else.

  Nudging her legs wider with his shoulders, he settled himself in. When his tongue caressed her in just the exact right spot, her every available brain cell not involved in basic life support honed in on the action. “Ohmigod,” she gasped completely involuntarily as his tongue and lips teased her sensitive flesh, his shoulders

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