Playing With Trouble (Desire Bay)

by Joya Ryan

  “Oh, now I need you.”

  “Yes, you do.” He’d go another route with this if he had to. Because she was stubborn and gambling with Walt’s and his life’s work. However he had to wear her down, he would. Because he refused to let the business suffer. “For your professional sake, if not your personal sake.” He paused to take a good, hearty view of those amazing breasts, which—judging by the beading nipples showing through her silky shirt—were still a bit cold. Or turned on.

  She swallowed hard, and his eyes were riveted to the action. Was she technically his competition for the business? Yes. The enemy? Sure. But she was also prime, ready, and sexy as sin.

  “You honestly think I could use you professionally?” she scoffed. “I’m a professional. In marketing.” She spoke extra slowly, like he was an idiot. “You don’t even open the whole store on a weekday.”

  She was stuck on this flower shop. Again. “I told you once, you want to open the floral shop, be my guest. Just don’t come crying to me when you have no idea what you’re doing with orders or sit there surrounded by crickets. But you know where to find me—in the warehouse, where the real money is made.”

  She chewed on her lip a little. “Working together would be . . .”

  “Frustrating?” he finished for her.

  “Extremely,” she agreed and looked over his chest again. Yeah, they might hate each other, but deep down, she wanted him. Just like he wanted her. And they both knew it. Didn’t mean it was a good idea. Hell, it was a terrible idea.

  “Okay, Jacob, I’ll play your little game of hypothetical. Let’s say you’re right,” she said. “Suppose I want you. Personally and professionally.”

  “Need,” he corrected. “And I am right.”

  “What is it you propose? We . . . what?” She wiggled her eyebrows and in a mocking tone said, “Fool around?” She smiled, but not in a humorous way. “Then what? We’d work together? Be friends? Forget that there isn’t this competition between us and we really want each other gone?”

  “Actually, working together would benefit you more than me.” There were several things he wanted to address from her last statement, but he’d start there. “In a small town, personal relationships matter. Everyone has worked with me, knows me. That goes a long way around here.”

  He looked at her lips, thinking of how good they must feel. How badly he wanted to taste them. How much he was kicking himself for not doing so earlier. Which brought him to his next point. “And no, we wouldn’t fool around, then be friends. I’d fuck you until you moaned my name, make you come over and over until you couldn’t take it anymore. Oh, and the competition would absolutely not be forgotten.”

  That lush mouth he’d been thinking about parted on a shocked breath. She stood up, making her tight body brush against his, and faced him.

  “You don’t sugarcoat anything, do you?”

  He really wanted to tell her he’d happily sugarcoat her, but instead he went with, “I like to make things clear up front, especially when it comes to building expectations. But it’s always understood that I deliver on what I promise. That’s just good business.”

  He winked.

  She huffed.

  “I don’t think I’ll have any problem building personal relationships with customers.”

  He arched a brow. “Oh, really? Then why was Russ Paxton talking to me about backing out of the gravel order he has coming in from us? He gets gravel every quarter. That’s a large chunk of steady income for the business, all because he’s not sure about dealing with you.”

  “You mean Gandalf over there?”

  Jake nodded. “He owns Paxton Landscaping and is the largest business in four counties. He’s also one of our biggest customers.” He leaned in a little until her breasts pressed against his chest and he had her sandwiched between his body and the edge of the table. “Still certain about your interpersonal skills?”

  She glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Russ, and judging by those wide brown eyes, no, she wasn’t certain.

  “I don’t want to lose customers,” she said quietly. So quietly, in fact, Jake wasn’t sure she was aware she’d said it out loud. Did she actually care about the business? “What would I have to do to”—she flicked her wrist, motioning to the expanse of the bar—“fit in better?”

  “Well . . .” He shifted his hips, causing his hard cock to drag across her flat stomach. The little moan she gave was the green light he was looking for. She could deny it all she wanted, but want him she did. “You and me showing a unified front would be a start.”

  She nodded, her eyes staring at his mouth. “Unified front?”

  “I’d be happy to help you. Just say the word.”

  Her eyes flashed with something dark and hot. “Help me personally or professionally?”

  He grinned. “Both. We can start by talking over dinner tomorrow.” He was trying really hard to be a gentleman and at least feed her, talk to her, and have a nice evening with her before doing what he really wanted to do, which was hit his knees and bury his face between those slick thighs of hers.

  She glanced down at where their lower halves met. Their bodies knew exactly what to do. He just needed a little bit of privacy and a hard surface and he’d be happy to swap pent-up aggression for sex with Miss Baughman. He glanced at the table right behind her and was instantly reevaluating how necessary privacy was.

  Trailing her finger along his belt, she rose just enough to brush her lips against his and whispered, “You’re forgetting something, Jacob . . . I’m not going to date you. And I think I can handle both my needs on my own.”

  Jake’s eyes snapped open, but she had already stepped around him and was heading out the door.

  “I never said anything about dating,” he called after her.

  Laura was damn near running in her last pair of heels, scuffing them to hell, down the long dirt road that led to her camper.

  Yes, she had driven, but it was only a mile away and she’d had a couple of drinks. She didn’t want to risk anything the way her head was feeling. Which was more from Jake than from the alcohol, but still. She needed the air.

  The night breeze was cold, but it did nothing to stifle the heat in her blood or on her skin. She’d almost kissed Jacob Lock! Actually, she’d almost done a lot more than that. She had been ready to hop up on the table, spread her legs, and take him up on his offer.

  The man was annoying and getting under her skin in more ways that she’d like. He was not the shy boy she remembered. He was all man. Spoke, walked, and smelled like one. Like sex. Because the more time she’d spent around him—in town, even—the more she was wondering what was happening. But her goal wouldn’t change. The flower shop mattered. Mattered to her. Mattered to her mother once upon a time. And it was all she had left of her. She would not only make this place her home, she’d make it a success.

  First she just needed to get out of these first twenty-four hours. Emotions were weighing hard. Like she could feel the pressure of all these internal questions, fears, and insecurities surrounding her like a heavy blanket, humming with building tension.

  Her head was in shambles and her heart was aching. She’d give just about anything to take out some aggression on something . . . or someone.

  Those pieces of her life she was trying to round up were slipping between her fingers. How could one person hurt her feelings, then turn her on, then make her feel like a part of his team, all in one conversation?

  She had to get control. She was in charge now. Taking back her life. Her future. Jacob was separate. And she had to woman up and deal with him or stay away from him. Either way, she definitely wasn’t dating him. His presence was too much. Too engulfing.

  I’m in trouble . . .

  Because he was right. She did want him so bad, to a point of need. Her body was betraying her with every brush of his skin or flash of his grin. She had a feeling Jacob Lock could live up to his promises . . . or threats. His hands and mouth alone could do amazi
ng things in record time. That much she was fairly certain of.

  So she’d have to fight harder. Because the moment she was still, she just might start thinking about how much her father loved him, had built with him, shared with him. While she was in California. She’d missed out. And she’d lost big.

  She kicked the gravel and cursed.

  The sneaky topic of hate screwing crept into her brain again, and she shook it away. She would love to physically take out her feelings on Jacob. And they wouldn’t be the warm and fuzzy kind.

  He’d made her gasp, just from the nearness of him earlier. But he had said he could make her moan. Part of her wanted him to try. And that part of her needed to shut up, because she was trying to run a business, which was shaping up to be a lot more difficult that she’d anticipated. Reputation mattered. And she didn’t have much of one, which could be bad for Baughman. And she’d be damned if that company did anything less than thrive under her watch.

  But taking Jake up on his offer of help?

  “Not smart,” she said out loud. Because she needed to hear it—to accept it.

  Lights came up behind her, paired with big tires rolling on the dirt road. She didn’t need to look back to know it was Jake in his truck, coming her way.

  He rolled down the passenger window and slowed his Chevy to keep pace with her strides.

  “What the hell are you doing? You could get lost or—”

  “I’m fine,” she said, attempting to maintain the hustle. He pulled ahead, put his truck in park, rounded the front, and headed her off by the tailgate.

  “You can’t just leave like that,” he said. With the tailgate at his back, Jacob Lock and a two-ton diesel were blocking her path.

  “What do you care?” she said. “Isn’t this part of your grand plan?”

  She stepped toward him. The truck was off, but the lights remained on. Between that and the moonlight, she could see his blue eyes blazing on the otherwise desolate road.

  “My plan is to alleviate whatever the hell is between us and make sure the business doesn’t go under in the meantime.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I am educated in marketing. It’s my plan to make sure the business has its best year yet. I just need—”

  “Oh, I know what you need,” he said. “You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

  Her gaze snapped to his. The dam had broken. She had been struggling with herself for a long time, but more recently, struggling with Jacob Lock. Fine. She could play. She could show him exactly the kind of woman she was capable of being. The kind of woman she wanted to be. She was done being overlooked or underestimated.

  “You want to push me?” Using her pointer finger, she tapped his hard chest, emphasizing her words. “You want to make me go crazy? Make me need you?” She tapped his chest again, and his back thumped against the tailgate.

  A low growl broke in his throat, but his eyes stayed on her face. He was letting her touch him, glare at him, push his buttons. He was much stronger and more solid than she was—but he was letting her come at him.

  It was then she realized how badly she wanted to get lost. In him. With him. The one man who understood more about her father she did. The one man deemed better than her, yet how he’d pushed her. Was pushing her. As if the challenge was what she needed.

  All of the grief, confusion, anger, and lust boiled over. She was tired of pushing him—tonight she would pull.

  The last rational thought left her mind. She fisted his shirt and yanked him toward her until his mouth crashed down on hers. She kissed him hard, with all the anger she felt. She should hate him—kind of did hate him, actually. But she would show him how wrong he was. She didn’t need him. Not for anything personally or professionally.

  Keeping her mouth on his, she pushed him back farther against the tailgate and drove her tongue into his mouth. He tasted like beer and lime and so good. It was everything she could do to stop from drinking him down whole.

  His big hands landed heavy on her ass and hoisted her up. She instantly wrapped her legs around his hips.

  “You’re a wild little thing, aren’t you?” he rasped against her mouth. With her in his arms, he turned so that her back was now against the truck.

  “There’s nothing nice about this, you understand?” she said, driving her fingers into his hair and kissing down his neck, throwing in a few bites along the way.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, tugging the front of her shirt down until she heard a rip and the cool night air skated across her bare breasts. “You want rough and dirty?” He lifted her up just a little higher so his mouth was in line with her breasts. “I can do that.”

  And he did.

  He latched on to one nipple, and Laura threw her head back and gasped to the sky. Stretching her arms across the edge of the tailgate, she opened herself up for more of his attention. Arching into his mouth as he laved at her, sucking hard, licking and biting. He devoured her breasts like they were covered in candy. The raw ferociousness of his mouth was nothing she’d ever felt. Like he had to taste more of her. Pull more into his mouth. Her entire core ached with emptiness. She was tired of that ache. Tired of being alone.

  Not tonight.

  Tonight she’d take her fill, because everything would be different tomorrow. Everything would be back to the competition and the business. But tonight? She pulled him closer. She wasn’t giving him up. She would take full advantage and deal with the fallout later.

  Right now, she was busy showing how much she didn’t need him.

  She lifted his shirt up over his head and he raised his arms, gladly letting her.

  “Good Lord,” she gasped when she saw his rock-hard chest and abs. Muscles like those didn’t come from a gym—they came from day after day of manual labor.

  “Impressed?” he asked with all the confidence in the world. She didn’t need to answer; they both knew she was drooling.

  “Muscles or not, you have yet to make me moan. I thought you were a man of your word and always delivered, Lock.”

  That made his blue eyes icy with intent, and a wicked grin split his face. Without warning, he spun her around. Her bare breasts pressed into the cold metal of his truck, the shock making her skin buzz and light up in the most delicious way. She may have cold metal against her front, but she had solid man, radiating heat, flush against her back.

  “That mouth of yours is going to be begging here in a minute,” he rasped in her ear, then bit down hard on the lobe. He unbuttoned her pants and removed them.

  Gripping the back of her thigh, he dragged her foot to rest on the bumper of his truck.

  “Almighty,” he said. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him staring between her legs. She waxed regularly, and apparently Jake liked that.

  “Are you impressed?” she asked with the same confidence he’d dished out only a moment ago.

  He met her stare and there was a predatory gleam in his eyes that made her shiver.

  “No . . . I’m starving.”

  He bent and in one fast swoop fastened his mouth against her core.

  “Oh yes!” She gripped the truck and held on as Jake drove his tongue into her hot depths over and over, only to come up to suck on her clit, sparking fire beneath every square inch of skin. “Yes, oh, Jake, right there.” She tried to move, to meet his seeking mouth, but he set the pace and ate at her with a wild passion, exactly how he wanted. She was on the brink, stars twinkling behind her eyes . . . so close . . .

  He stopped and rose.

  She slammed her hand against the truck. “No! I was—”

  “You ready to beg for it?” he asked and slapped her ass. To her surprise, she moaned. “Ah, there’s that moan. Granted, hearing you scream to the sky was also nice.”

  “Not nice,” she shot out. Her chest was heaving, trying to catch up to her lungs, which were working overtime. The thwarted orgasm she’d been on the brink of only fueled the anger and need she felt toward him.

  She heard his zipper
come down, then a rip of cellophane.

  “I’m still waiting for that pretty mouth of yours to beg . . .” His big, callused hand squeezed her ass as he came right behind her and positioned himself at her entrance. The crown nudged her core but he held, not breaching her until he got what he wanted.

  But she wouldn’t. She was still not needing him.

  Proving strength. Faking it. Whatever she was doing, she was dying. She just needed to feel him. But she wouldn’t give in. She’d win. All of this. She’d win. Because if she didn’t, she just might have to start wondering how little there was left of her heart.

  “Either get on with it or don’t, Jake. I won’t beg.”

  With a satisfied groan, he thrust deep.

  “Oh!” she gasped. He took her completely. Stretching and filling her to the hilt.

  “Stubborn woman.” He thrust again. “But damn, you feel so good.” He stirred his hips. “So tight and wet.” He pulled out, then returned with another punishing thrust. Her head lolled back and rested against his shoulder. “You don’t wanna beg? Fine. But you’ll talk.” He hammered in and out harder. “How long have you been wet for me?”

  With one hand clamping her side, he pumped again and again. His hips slapped her ass, filling the quiet night with the sounds of their skin meeting and echoing out into the darkness. When she didn’t answer because she was too busy moaning and chanting his name, he snaked the other arm around, between her breasts, to cup her throat.

  “How. Long. Laura?” he said with a sharp bite to his words. “How long have you been wet for me?”

  “S-since I first saw you,” she admitted. She’d tell him anything if it meant he’d keep going. Take her over the edge and let her lose herself in the pleasure he was unleashing.

  “Good,” he growled, fucking her slow and hard. Each thrust pressing her bare breasts farther into the cold tailgate while she was being burned up from the inside out. “Because I’ve been hard for you all damn day.”

  He pumped again, but he held her tight. His arms like a vise around her, but his palm gentle on her neck. Like he was capable of being rough and soft all at the same time. She loved the feeling of being totally dominated by him. Wrapped up in his strength, taken like a wild animal, craving nothing beyond his touch.