by Jill Shalvis
“Because we’re so different.”
“That’s right.”
He felt himself go very still. Shit, he’d really been an idiot. Standing, he walked out of the bedroom, away from the gorgeous creature in silk, so he could think a moment. And what he thought made him very unhappy. All the alluding to Mr. Right and Mr. Wrong, the times she’d mentioned their differences . . . While he’d been enjoying those differences, she’d been thinking he was a step down for her. A big step. How it’d never occurred to him, he had no idea, but—
“Jacob.”
She’d followed him into the living room. He let out a breath and stared out her window into the dark night. “I realize I don’t have the fancy degrees or the high-paying job, but I don’t like the idea that you’re just slumming with me.”
“No. No, you misunderstood. We’re different, yes. As in I’m anal, single-minded to the point of obsession, and frankly, socially handicapped.”
He turned to face her but she held up a hand before he could speak. “You, however . . .” she continued softly, “you’re tough and confident and funny and effortlessly sexy. I’ve never been with a guy like you, Jacob, and now I know I shortchanged myself. That’s what I meant before. Yes, I’ve been interested in you since I first saw you again on your ladder in a pair of worn Levi’s, looking in charge of your world, and yeah, that’s extremely shallow of me, but it’s so much more than that. I love the way you think, how you always say what you mean, no guesswork. What you see is what you get with you, and that’s . . .” She searched for the words. “Incredibly appealing.”
“I’ve been interested in you since I first saw you again,” he said. “Before I even knew it was again.”
She looked surprised. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. You were wearing a black skirt and a white blouse, with a peekaboo hint of lace beneath. And fuck-me heels.”
She choked out a laugh. “I was not. They were higher than my usual, but I had a meeting that day and was looking for power.”
“You got lust.”
“My hair was out of control.”
“It was up in some complicated twist and you had a few strands of hair falling out the back, dangling against your sweet neck. You were late, you were rushing, and you looked like a hot mess. Emphasis on the hot. But even then it was your brain that attracted me most. I love watching you think, Maggie.”
“Do you know what I’m thinking now?” She stepped closer and slid her hands up his chest. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed all that hotness up against him.
“I could guess,” he murmured.
She smiled, and it staggered him. “My life has always been MapQuested out,” she whispered. “The route carefully highlighted. But with you, I don’t know what to expect, I don’t know what you’re thinking or what you’re going to do. Nothing is planned out, nothing is guaranteed, and it’s . . . exciting, Jacob.”
His hand swept down her body and up again. “So I turn your body on.”
“You turn my head on.” She caught his face in her hands and went up on tiptoe. He could feel her breasts, nipples hard, pressing into his chest. “Do you understand?” she murmured against his mouth. “This isn’t a fifth date, where I’ve carefully reflected and decided it’s time to put ‘have sex’ on the calendar. I haven’t lit a candle or turned on the music like I usually do because that’s what sets the mood and helps me relax. I haven’t slathered myself in some pretty-scented lotion to make sure I’m turning you on. Hell, I didn’t shave my legs—” She went still and closed her eyes, relaxing back down on the balls of her feet. “Dammit, I didn’t shave my legs.”
He grabbed her before she could turn away, hauling her back up against him. “I don’t care. Finish. Finish what you were going to say.”
“I want you because you’re different from the norm for me. I want you because when I’m with you, I don’t have to think. I can just feel. I know we said this was a one-time thing, but make me feel again, Jacob, just once more.” She stepped back, then slowly slid first one spaghetti strap off her shoulder, and then the other, letting the cami slip. It snagged on her nipples for one heart-stopping second, then fell, revealing her mouthwatering breasts. She nudged it past her hips, where it landed in a puddle of silk at her feet. Eyes on his, she hooked her fingers in her panties, and he stopped breathing. “Love me, Jacob,” she whispered, gliding them down past her injuries—which made her want to wince, he could tell—past her thighs to join the cami at her feet. Straightening, she reached for his shirt. “Love me.”
He had a feeling he already did, but that wasn’t what she meant, and all she wanted from him was this adventure, was what he could do to her in bed, so he tugged his shirt off over his head, lifted her up, and carried her back to her bedroom.
Maggie expected Jacob to put her on the bed and then follow her down, but instead he sat on the mattress with her in his lap, his spine against the headboard.
“So you don’t put your weight on your cuts,” he said, pulling her thighs on either side of his hips so that she straddled him, letting her feel exactly what her kisses and touches had done to him.
There was something about being entirely naked while he still wore his jeans. It made her feel exposed, and yet so aroused she could hardly stand it. “I’m a little underdressed here.”
“I know.” His eyes were lit with heat and desire as they took her naked body in. “I like it.” Then he covered her mouth with his, going in for a long, drugging kiss that did something shocking to her brain that she’d never managed before.
It turned off.
She wasn’t worried about what she looked like naked, or wondering if she’d turned off her cell phone, or if her front door was locked. She wasn’t doing anything but feeling—and oh, God, what a feeling she had with his hands skimming down her bare back, cupping her bottom, gently pulling her in closer, careful of her cuts and bruises, until she was as snug against him as she could be, making her intimately aware of his jeans. The denim rubbed her inner thighs, and between.
He was hard. Big and hard and she pulled her mouth free to pop open his buttons, while his hands stroked her breasts, gliding over her nipples, leaving her to restlessly rock her hips. “Jacob—”
“I know.” He took his hands on a tour down her ribs, her quivering belly, her thighs, which he urged even wider. His gaze dropped from hers, and he looked his fill, exhaling very heavily, very slowly, only to suck the air back in when she freed him from his jeans. Lifting his hips, he helped her shove them out of the way as his hands swept up her back, pulling her in close for another deep, soul-wrenching kiss, his hands making their way back down, over her bandages, between her legs. “God, you’re wet. So wet. I want to taste—”
“Later—” She gasped out the word as he slid a finger into her. Needing him inside her, she lifted her hips.
“Wait,” he rasped out. “Maggie, wait. I want to—”
She sank onto him, and he gripped her hips to hold her still, his eyes trapping hers. Their twin sighs commingled in the air, and she knew right then, nothing about this was a one-time fluke.
“Maggie,” he said, just that. She rocked her hips to meet his, staring with wide wonder into his eyes, her hands touching as much of his hard, damp, straining body as she could. Yeah, it’d been a while, a long while since she’d been with anyone else, and yet she could say with the utmost authority that it had never felt like this.
And then he began to move. Her toes curled, her entire body tingled from the inside out as sheer, unadulterated pleasure hummed through her. It was perfect, it was heaven, and when he banded his arms tightly around her, pushing up, thrusting hard, his teeth scraping her throat, she felt herself start to come apart for him again.
But this time, he was right there with her, just as far gone himself, and when she came on a cry of sheer surprise at the infusion of pleasure, she heard his own low, rough groan as he shuddered and followed her over.
9
Jaco
b woke up to a knock, and opened his eyes.
Plastered against his side was a soft, naked, sleeping woman with a smile on her face that said I’m in an orgasmic coma.
He’d put her there, which gave him more than a little satisfaction. With a smile, he leaned over her with the intention of waking her up and starting all over again but then he heard another knock and realized someone was at the door. Maggie didn’t budge, so he slipped out of bed. At the loss of his body heat, she rolled to her belly and snuggled into her pillow—with two Band-Aids on her cute ass, and a bruise in the shape of a fork.
Someone knocked for a third time and he pulled on his jeans, padded through the condo, and opened the front door.
Scott stared at Jacob for a long beat, holding two Starbucks cups and a brown bag that smelled good. He took in Jacob’s lack of a shirt and shoes and socks, and clearly added two and two. “Uh . . .”
“You’re looking for Maggie.”
Scott nodded, looking very unhappy. “Yes.”
“She’s still in bed—”
“No, I’m here.” Maggie came around from behind him, wearing a robe and a wide-eyed, sexy, rumpled, I’ve-just-been-laid look in spite of how tightly she held her robe closed. “Scott?”
He held out one of the coffees, and then on second thought, politely handed the other to Jacob. “I came by to check in on you, but I can see you’re . . . busy.”
“Scott—”
“No, it’s okay. See you at work.” With a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he turned and walked off.
“Scott.”
He didn’t respond, and shutting the door, Maggie leaned back against it and sighed. “That’s probably not good.”
“Actually, it is.” Jacob took a second sip. “For how overpriced it is, it’s very good.”
Maggie didn’t smile. “You didn’t have to act so . . .”
“So what?”
“Territorial.”
That stopped him cold. Territorial? He wasn’t territorial. Territorial was for committed guys, guys who had a thing for being with the same woman, guys who wanted stability and routine—not guys just being a woman’s Mr. Wrong. He was just . . . ah, hell. He was acting territorial. While he chewed on that shocking fact, she made a noise of disgust and brushed past him, heading into the shower. She’d just shut the curtain when he caught up with her and peeled back the shower curtain.
With a squeak, she tried to cover herself up.
“I’ve already seen it all.” He stepped out of his jeans and into the shower with her, crowding her back against the tile.
“Jacob.”
“Maggie.” He dropped his attitude and set his forehead to hers. “Truth. I guess I am feeling . . . territorial.”
She was no longer covering herself up but looking at him with a rather complimentary wide-eyed wonder. “Are we going to—”
“Oh, yeah. We’re going to.”
When Maggie finally got to work, thanks to a ride from Janie, she’d had two more orgasms and had completely revised her opinion of the dreaded “morning after.” In fact, she grinned all the way into the building, was still grinning when she passed by Alice’s desk.
Alice took one look at her face and swore. “Are you kidding me? You got laid? I can’t get a freaking return phone call from my supposed boyfriend and you, of the Church of Chemistry, got laid?”
Maggie looked around to make sure no one was listening. “How can you tell?”
“I know Scott went by your place last night, and you look all loose and relaxed. Two scientist geeks doing the nasty.” Alice sighed. “Some people have all the luck.”
“I didn’t sleep with Scott.”
“No sleeping, huh? Sure. Rub it in.”
“Alice,” Maggie said on a laugh. “I didn’t have sex with Scott.”
“Hey, you don’t want to dish. I get it. You don’t know me all that well, and—”
“No, it’s not that—” She broke off as Jacob walked down the hall. He looked . . . different. And it wasn’t just because she’d seen his big, bad body in the buff now, had in fact nibbled her way up and down every inch of that six-foot-two frame.
He didn’t look like the Jacob she’d seen every day for two months. He wasn’t wearing his tool belt, or his jeans, but a pair of nice-fitting cargoes and a white button-down. If he put on a white lab coat, he’d look every bit as much the on-the-go professional as any of the guys in this building. In fact, suddenly he looked like . . . like her Mr. Right, which should have been thrilling, but oddly enough it didn’t matter. Because sexy and gorgeous as he was, it happened to be what was on the inside that attracted her. He made her smile, he made her think, he made her feel like so much more than the sum of her chemistry degrees—he made her feel like a warm, sexy woman.
Somehow, in some way, her Mr. Wrong had become her Mr. Right.
“Ohmigod,” Alice whispered, dividing a stare between Maggie and Jacob. “Him ? You slept with him?”
Maggie gave a guilty little start. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Alice laughed. “Oh, yes, you do.” She watched Jacob walk toward them. “So was he as hot as he looks?”
Maggie bit her lip, and Alice shook her head. “You don’t have to say a word, your face is saying it all for you. So you two are what, dating now?”
“No. It was . . . a one-time thing.” Okay, two . . .
“Well, that’s just a damn shame.”
Jacob came to a stop in front of Maggie. As if he couldn’t care less that there were people milling around, not to mention Alice staring at him with open curiosity. He leaned in and gave Maggie a kiss. “Hi.”
“Hi.” She was breathless. He’d given her a peck and she couldn’t breathe.
Oh, and her nipples were hard.
But it was more than that. Just looking at him had her heart tipping over on its side and exposing its tender underbelly. Oh, no. She’d fallen for him and couldn’t get up. . . .
“You okay?” he asked.
No. No, she wasn’t. She shifted away from Alice’s desk for privacy, pulling him with her. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to say good-bye before I got on the plane. And make sure that you stay with your sister the next few nights.”
“I will, but I’ll be okay.”
“I know. But I didn’t want to walk away without making sure.”
Walk away. Damn, she’d nearly forgotten that part, which had been her own idea. “I hope you have a great holiday with your family.”
He just looked at her for a long moment, saying nothing. Then finally he nodded, his eyes fathomless and unreadable. “Thanks. You, too.”
“Maggie?” Alice called out, waving her back over. “Did you leave your office light on last night?”
“No, I—” She whipped around and saw the light gleaming from beneath the door. Not again. What the hell was going on? Pulling out her key, she let herself in and gasped. Her files, locked when she’d left yesterday, were all open and disheveled.
“So they got the chance to search this time,” Jacob said, coming in behind her. “What are they looking for, your formula?”
“I’m not sure.” There were only two people in this building besides herself who had keys to her office, she’d checked yesterday. Well, three. Alice, of course.
And Scott and Tim.
They’d been acting strange and just a little bit off all week now, and she’d ignored it. “Alice?”
“Yes?”
“Could you give us a minute?”
“Oh! Sure.”
When she was gone, Maggie pulled the vial of her formula from her briefcase and turned to Jacob. “I think it’s all connected to this.” She slipped the vial into her pocket. “The slashed tire. My home intruder. The odd visits from Scott . . .”
The odd visits from Scott. He was behind this? Why? It made no sense at all. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Leaving him, she rushed down the hall and barged into Scott’s office.
/> The room was large and plush, the desk and other furniture all inventions he’d sponsored. The desk was an alloy material that couldn’t be scratched. The couch was one of the brand new magnetic designs, a flat pad sitting on the floor now but when a switch on Scott’s desk was hit, the cushion bent in half, providing back support, and floated off the ground, held there by the opposing magnets buried in the cushion. It wasn’t activated because of the fatal flaw of the design—when switched on, everything in the room that was metal—the phone receiver, paper clips, letter openers—went flying rather violently through the air to stick to the couch. The inventor still had the scars to prove it.
Scott sat at the desk now, with three big screen computer monitors going, one that looked like a patient monitor, revealing blood pressure, heart rate, pulse, etcetera. The second screen was a global positioning system, but before she could catch sight of the third, Scott looked up at her, jumped guiltily, and hit a button on his keyboard that shut everything down.
“What was all that?” she asked.
“Nothing. Just . . . work.”
“Are you stalking me, Scott?”
“What?” He looked genuinely shocked. “Why would I stalk you?”
“I wish I knew. Someone’s been in my office twice now, clearly looking for something. And then there’s my tire. And someone in my condo. And you and Tim acting . . . weird.”
“No. Not weird, I swear. And maybe Tim needed something—”
“My files were trashed, Scott. Maybe I should just call the police and let them sort it out.”
“Okay, let’s not get crazy here,” he said, losing a little of the tan he’d bought himself. “I’m sure we can figure this out in-house. I can figure this out in-house, I’m sure of it.”
She looked at his computer, wishing she could see what he’d been working on, what had made him jump so guiltily. “So you want me to . . .”
“Do nothing. I’ll handle it. I’ll check into it immediately and get back to you.”
“I still think that the police—”
“Totally not necessary.”