No Interest in Love

by Cassie Mae

  She tilts her head, slight frustration crossing her expression when I don’t move.

  “Lie down,” she says.

  I shake my head and try to convince her otherwise by continuing to love up on her neck.

  “Jace…seriously.”

  I move my lips downward to her breasts, giving them equal attention. I find another volume button there, and after a few seconds of unbelievably loud noises, I can’t help but chuckle a bit against her skin.

  “Lay back,” she says again, pushing on my shoulders. I shake my head. Her whole body shifts as she growls, grabbing fistfuls of my hair and pulling me up to look at her. She lifts an eyebrow in a seductive and evil kind of way, then rises on her knees…

  …and slams her hips down.

  Yep, I’m done. I can’t fight it anymore.

  My back thumps against the mattress, her hands press on my chest for leverage, and she starts moving. I lose conscious thought for about twenty-two seconds.

  “I can’t believe this,” I mumble like a moron, running my hands over her ribs.

  “What?” she breathes.

  “That you’re…” On top of me. Straddling me. Humping me into oblivion. “That you want this. With me.”

  Her eyes flutter open, and she presses her lips together briefly before saying. “I’m so into you.”

  I grin. “I think I’m the one in you.”

  She stops her movements, giving me a teasing look with her wide eyes, then lifts her hips. I grab at her waist to keep her from getting away. “Wait! Wait!” I laugh. She pushes down on me hard again, and oh my damn, I think I…nope…Woody’s still good.

  But he won’t be for long.

  “Let me be on top,” I blurt.

  “No,” she breathes, shaking her head, increasing her rhythm.

  “Yes.” I lock onto her waist, begging her to slow down because I’m at my wits’ end and I don’t think it’s even been a full minute yet.

  She shakes her head again, grabbing onto my wrists and forcing me to move with her. My fingers dig into her thighs. I’m gonna lose it. The pleasure is rippling through my entire body and I won’t be able to hold it back. Added to the look on her face, her hair tossed all around and the bouncing and bouncing there is so much bouncing.

  I throw my head back and through the blissful blur I notice the time.

  10:25.

  It’s been three minutes.

  I sit up, stopping her movements and rolling us before she has time to argue about it. Only my brain didn’t register where we were located on the bed. And we both crash-land on the floor.

  “You’re a thousand pounds,” Shay squeaks underneath me, eyes squeezed shut in pain but lips tilted up in a smile.

  “Whoops.”

  She squirms a bit, and I push up on my arms to give her breathing room. One flick of her eyes to my elbows and I say, “Don’t even think about it.”

  “I’m not thinking about anything,” she lies through her teeth, trying to play innocent. I gently take hold of her wrists and playfully pin her arms above her head. She immediately starts struggling.

  “You want back on top.”

  “I like on top.”

  “Well…for once, can I be in control?”

  “Oh, so that’s what this is about.” She arches her back, and her belly button ring bumps against my abs. “I’m up for a fight.”

  I bend down and press a gentle kiss on her chin. “Please don’t fight this one,” I whisper, and it takes one, two, three seconds for her body to fall against the floor. The struggle against my hands ceases, her smile fades, but not entirely, and the fire behind her eyes goes from a playful burn to a blazing inferno as she relinquishes all the power to me.

  I push my hips forward, unable to resist any longer.

  And I miss.

  I mean, completely miss where I’m trying to go.

  She laughs as I poke at her leg and then move to the side to get to my destination, but she moves the other way and suddenly we’re playing tag.

  “Damn it,” I mutter, embarrassed laughter shaking us both.

  “This is why I need to be on top,” she teases.

  I remove my hands from her wrists and pin her hips still instead.

  “I’m going in,” I say like a man strapped and ready for battle. She’s laughing as I push inside, and holy hell, I’ve never had a woman laugh before during sex and now I’m thinking I don’t want it to stop.

  “This is not how I pictured this going,” I say, falling against her. She moves a piece of hair from my face, but it goes right back.

  “I think it’s going just fine.”

  “There’s that word again.”

  She rolls her eyes, then presses a kiss to my lips.

  “Jace…I’m having fun.”

  “I was hoping for romantic. But I haven’t exactly done romantic before.”

  “Fun is romantic. I don’t have fun with a lot of other people. I didn’t even know this could be fun.”

  “Me neither. I mean…not fun like this.”

  “Wow,” she says with a wide smile. “We agree on something.”

  I lean down and press a gentle kiss to that smile. It hits me everywhere, and not just the physical parts but the parts I never thought I had. And I grab hold of her hand, link our fingers together, and laugh purely out of joy that I’m with a woman I’d like to keep hold of.

  She looks at our hands and kisses my palm.

  We finally find a rhythm both of us are happy with, and I want to charge forward, take a running gallop to the point of no return. If this had happened with anyone else, I would have done it without another thought. I would’ve taken what I wanted and left. But what I want this time is different. I want this for her, but selfishly, I want this to last with her for me too.

  And I’m trying to make that look of pleasure that is now resting on her face last, but Woody is about to do his solo, then throw the mic down and leave the stage.

  “This is bad,” I say, and her arching back falls to the floor.

  “Well, don’t sugarcoat it.”

  “No.” I grin. “I mean, it feels so good, I’m not gonna last.”

  She grabs onto my arms, nails digging into my skin. I quirk a smile at that gnawed-up pinkie.

  “I don’t care,” she says. “I want you now, and I want you fast.”

  “I want you…satisfied. You know, thinking I’m a sex god. Best you ever had.”

  “If you don’t go fast,” she threatens, slamming her hips upward, “then I will.”

  “I’m gonna blow.”

  “Damn it, Jace. That’s the whole point of sex, isn’t it?” She thrusts up again. “I want you to blow.”

  I laugh, pushing my hips forward now. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said.”

  “Sick pervert,” she jokes, but our laughter is chased away as our speed increases. Her fists slam into my arms and she starts shouting at me. Full-on, bossy shouting. Korean mixed with English. I’m so far gone into my haze I barely catch it, but I hear “more” and “faster” and “harder,” and when I hear those things I oblige.

  She’s damn gorgeous.

  Adorable even in bed.

  It’s 10:27.

  And Woody calls it a day.

  10:29 A.M.

  “It’s been three years.”

  “Hmmerflunk?”

  Shay rolls over, resting her head on my beating heart. “I haven’t been to Happy Land in three years.”

  I let out a breathless snort. “Well, don’t sugarcoat it.”

  “No…” She waves a useless hand at me. “I mean, you took me there just now. I even saw the fireworks show.”

  “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I lasted five minutes.”

  “Longer than the last guy.”

  I manage to pick up my head. “By how much?”

  “Let’s just say he hopped on the elevator without pushing any buttons, then jumped off.�
�

  Ah, hell. I fall back, trying not to laugh, but I can’t help the smile wrapping up my face. This is why I pushed the buttons before I got on the elevator.

  I rest my forehead on her temple, tapping a kiss to her lips when she turns.

  “Don’t laugh at me,” she chuckles around my mouth. “It was a magical evening.”

  “I know. How can I compete with that?” I take her hand and bring it up between us. “You know…you’re another first.”

  “Elaborate.”

  “First time having morning sex.”

  Her almond eyes fall shut as she laughs. The sound is so hypnotic I barely hear the small knock coming at the door, and both our brows furrow.

  “Are you expecting company?” she asks, and I shake my head. I sit up, but she pulls on my arm and takes me in, smiling, for another kiss.

  Rap rap.

  “We’re good on room service!” I call out, then whip Shay underneath me. Her nails run across my tattoo, making me shiver and lose my balance. It’s going to be a minute before I can go at it again, but I’m good with afterplay. Never actually done afterplay before…

  “I have a delivery for a Mr. Jason Sterne,” a deep voice muffles through the door.

  Shay sighs and shoves my face away. “Go get it.”

  I kiss her one more time, then hoist myself off the bed. I bump right into the wall. Damn, she’s made me lose it.

  “Put on pants!” She laughs. I snatch a towel from the bathroom rack and cover the goods.

  It’s just a thick envelope. Something the guy could’ve easily left by the door. I take it from him and rip into it as I walk back to the bed.

  “What is that?” Shay asks, sitting up. I love that she doesn’t cover herself at all.

  “Probably the room service bill.”

  She pinches my forearm before settling her chin on my shoulder. A sharp gasp flies past her lips and she snatches the papers before I even get a chance to look at them.

  “Jace…this is a contract.”

  I flip around. “What?”

  “You got the part. Look at that number!” She points at the dollar sign and the zeros and I grab it back from her.

  “Holy shit…They gave it to me? Carletta said…” I taper off, flipping through the pages, not understanding a word of it but knowing Shay will do a fine-tooth comb-over.

  “Carletta said what?”

  I put the papers down, shaking my head and pulling her in for a kiss. “Nothing.”

  Shay sneaks her hand in between our mouths, so I lick across her knuckles and laugh.

  “What’d she say, Jace?” she asks again, wiping her hand off on my chest.

  “She just implied that the part had to be…earned with a little bit more effort than the screen test.”

  Shay’s lips part just slightly, her nose wrinkling up, and even that has me thinking she’s adorable as hell. I lean in and kiss under her ear.

  “When was this?”

  “Last night,” I say between kisses.

  She pushes on my chest, making my eyes lock with hers. “When last night? Before you came here?”

  I let out a sigh, picking up her hand, just wanting to hold her in whatever way I can. “I wasn’t going to sleep with her if I got the part. I had to let her know that.”

  “Were you so sure that I’d fall victim to your charms?” she asks, nudging me in the arm. I’m tempted to tell her, “Hell yeah,” for fun, but I go for honesty this time around.

  “Actually, I was pretty damn sure you were going to stab me in the heart with your rejection.”

  Her eyebrows pull in, and she looks down at our hands. “And you still wouldn’t sleep with her?”

  I shake my head.

  And next thing I know, Shay’s lips are on mine, the contract long forgotten under our half-naked bodies.

  12:53 P.M.

  I order room service, making sure to get Shay her own plate of chicken.

  “I think we’re supposed to check out soon,” she says, but makes no movement from the bed. She’s still topless.

  “We deserve another night.”

  She reaches for the chicken, but I cover it with the lid, cutting her hand off.

  “Take it easy this time.”

  “I’ll do what I want.”

  I chuckle and push the cart away. She drops her mouth in mock shock, then stands up on the bed and lunges at me.

  Woody makes it twice as long this time around.

  6:45 P.M.

  “Tell me what that look is,” I say, dragging my fingers across Shay’s lips. I want to know every look, every thought.

  “I don’t want to tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because your head is big enough.”

  The corner of my mouth lifts, and I tangle my fingers through her hair, pull her to me, and press a lingering kiss against her forehead.

  “You know I say that cocky shit to bug you on purpose. I like seeing that feisty girl I met in Times Square, so I make her come out as often as I can.”

  “Most people hate that girl.”

  “Not me.”

  She pushes her lips together, and I know she’s trying not to smile. I trace her mouth with a laugh, and that’s when I get the nose wrinkle, the narrowed eyes, the slow burn of annoyance flickering across her expression. And I laugh again, because there’s the feisty girl, and I didn’t have to say anything to pull her out that time.

  “That casting director was out of his mind,” she says, and I raise an eyebrow to her. She sighs. “That’s what this look is. Because your ass…It’s glorious.”

  Then my feisty girl smiles. She smiles so wide and her fingers tumble down my back, nails scratching slightly. She lands on my “glorious” maximus and squeezes it in a teasing pinch.

  “Wanna go again?” she asks with a lift of her eyebrow. She doesn’t even get the entire sentence out before I’m back in the game.

  After twenty minutes, I lose track of time.

  9:01 P.M.

  Shay tangles our hands together, watching our fingers as we lie side by side, feet kicked up on the wall.

  I’m watching her.

  I don’t think I want to do anything else for as long as I live.

  “Who was I in Jace: The Movie?” she asks.

  “Miss Unlikely,” I tell her without hesitation. She laughs.

  “I like that.” Her eyes flick from our hands to meet mine. “Means I’m unpredictable.”

  “You are very much that.” And thank you, screenwriter, for making her that way.

  She slides closer, enough to press a kiss to my nose. I kiss hers right back, and with it I throw out every single page of the Stinson Bible.

  I’m ready to be Ted.

  “You’re not Miss Unlikely anymore,” I say, bringing our hands up to my mouth. “Your character description has been revised.” I press kisses along her knuckles, then playfully bite her thumb. She grins and does the same to me.

  “Can I pick my name? Miss Awesome. Or Miss Great in Bed. Or Miss Always Right.”

  “How about Miss End Game?”

  Her adorably wide eyes smile without her mouth making the movement. “For the week?” she asks, and I shake my head. Her lips curl up against the back of my hand. “Does this mean you think this’ll last?”

  Yeah, I think this’ll last. I sure as hell want it to.

  “Man, I hope so.”

  Monday

  (A Few Months Later)

  4:45 P.M.

  Shay

  The thing is huge.

  Probably could hold three or four duplicates of my car.

  Or more accurately, my old car, since I just dropped it off to the new owners. They live right next to Jace’s grandma…right next to the nice house he bought for her.

  After landing that contract, he took his advance and dropped it on the house. Grandma cried, gave me a hug, and told me she was so grateful to me for being so on top of things (which was more than I got from my own parents).

&nb
sp; When we left, Jace was really quiet, and that wasn’t like him at all.

  “I’m not sure if I should ask you what’s wrong, or if I should take advantage of the silence,” I said with a laugh as we went down the front-porch stairs. His hand twitched in mine, and suddenly he was wrapping me up in a hug so tight I had to tap on his back a little so I could catch my breath.

  “I never thought I’d be able to do that,” he said. “I always wanted to, but never really thought that…”

  He laughed. Picked me up. Swung me around. Laughing and laughing, which had me laughing. Then he put me down on my feet, stared right into my eyes, and said, “Thank you.”

  My heart gave out. It was the first time I’d felt truly appreciated for the work I’d done. I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to my level. Our lips touched, our tongues tangled, and we moved the party back to his place. We had some wicked sex that night because, let’s be honest, when your very cocky and sexy boyfriend does something so freaking selfless and sweet, you just want to ride him until you can’t see straight anymore.

  That was probably the night it happened, now that I think about it…

  I take a deep breath, biting my lip and staring at what I think is the passenger door but looks more like a bus’s opening than a car’s. My new place. My first place with a boyfriend. My first-ever motor home experience.

  I don’t know if I can breathe.

  A nudge to my ankle tears my eyes away from the nerve-racking, life-altering conversation I’m about to have and to the scrappy-looking rescue pup I’ve got attached to the leash around my wrist.

  “Yep, that’s it,” I tell him. When Jace told me he wanted to buy a motor home, I thought he was nuts. But then he said something that he probably didn’t realize was so sweet at the time. He told me that he’s become a big fan of road trips. And I know it’s stupid and forward and arrogant to think that maybe I have something to do with that, but I think it anyway.

  The rescue puppy brushes his fuzzy head against my leg and whines a little. “Shh,” I console him. “You gotta be quiet because you’re a surprise.” I take another deep breath, finally finding air again. “One of many.”