by N. S. Moore
Bared for Him: Volume 1
N.S. Moore
Prologue
One of the problems with being a good girl is that you’re always afraid of making a scene.
Sometimes I really want to make a scene. I want to scream at my roommate or slap a guy across the face or dump a cup of coffee into his lap. But I don’t. Of course, I don’t.
I’m a good girl, and good girls don’t do things like that.
It’s hard to always hold back, though. For instance, I really wished I could be bad for just a little while one evening when Nick Watson walked into The Bronze Steer, the upscale steak house where I worked. I hadn’t seen him for three years, and I should have recovered from the broken heart he’d given me back then, but I hadn’t.
I still wanted to scream and cry and duck into the office to hide all at the same time, when I saw his lean body, broad shoulders, and strong jaw, come in through the front door of the restaurant. He was with three other men, whom I assumed were some sort of business associates.
Those dark brown eyes landed on me, and I knew he recognized me immediately, but he didn’t smile or nod or in any way acknowledge my presence. Bastard. Acting like I didn’t exist. Acting like he hadn’t dumped me like trash as soon as he’d gotten what he wanted from me three years ago.
I couldn’t afford to lose my job so, instead of giving him the smack-down his smug, impersonal expression deserved, I gave the men my best smile.
I used to do beauty pageants—back when my mother was alive and my father made a lot of money—so I can give a really good smile. That’s one of the reasons I’d gotten this job as hostess here instead of waiting tables at chain restaurants like most other college girls. I had what the manager called “poise.” I welcomed the group politely, identified a good table for them, and had them follow me there, managing not to look Nick in the eye any more than absolutely necessary.
I’ve known Nick most of my life. He worked for my dad’s construction company all through high school and then stayed on with the company while he was taking classes at the local community college. I’d had a silly crush on him for most of my life.
When my mom got sick during my sophomore year of college and I came home to west Texas to help out as she dealt with the cancer, my silly crush on Nick turned into something else. I was twenty and he was twenty-five, so it finally felt like I was no longer a little girl. We started hanging out, and then we started kissing, and eventually we moved on to even more.
He was the first guy I’d ever had sex with, and I was sure I would love him for the rest of my life.
Things don’t always work out the way you think they will, though. In fact, they hardly ever do.
Nick dumped me. Then my mother died. Then my dad spiraled into depression so deep he ended up losing his business and the big house we’d always lived in. When I went back to college in Dallas the following year, I had to give up my nice apartment and live in the dorms instead. And I had to get a job to help with expenses.
While my life went downhill, Nick’s shot uphill with miraculous speed. He partnered with the right real estate investor at just the right time. They had properties all over Dallas and Fort Worth now, and according to all the gossip back home, Nick was rolling in the money.
It seems like good things should only happen to good people, but it never works out that way. Sometimes good things happen to heartless bastards too, and the good girls are too scared to tell them off as they deserve.
Nick and the other men stayed at their table for hours, drinking beer, eating steaks, and talking business. At almost closing time, they were still there, and I was so upset I was struggling not to cry.
I kept on my pageant smile, though, since I wasn’t about to let him see how much he’d hurt me before and was still hurting me now.
I just wished he wasn’t so hot. He seemed to have gotten even hotter over the last three years.
He wore a suit this evening, and it looked expensive. He had just the faintest five o’clock shadow, as dark as his thick hair. His brown eyes were just as knowing and observant as they’d always been, and his body was even harder and tighter. All of it gave me very naughty thoughts.
That’s another thing about being a good girl—you have all these daydreams about being bad. Not just making scenes, but doing wild, dirty things you’d never do in real life.
As I stood behind the hostess desk, I imagined walking over to Nick, taking his hand, and dragging him back into the alley behind the restaurant. I imagined rubbing up against him and showing him how wild and sexy I really was, how I wasn’t the inexperienced girl he might remember. I imagined him pressing me up against the wall with his hard, hot body. Wrapping my legs around him as tightly as I could. I imagined the feel of his cock, taking me hard and rough.
I imagined coming over and over again as he took me, screaming with wild abandon as each orgasm hit, and then being deliciously sated afterwards. That was when I would give him a casual smile, tell him he wasn’t too bad, and then walk away, leaving him always wanting more of me.
I’m a good girl, though, and I don’t do that kind of thing. I never have—in all my life. Sometimes, I have to pretend to be asleep when my roommate in the dorm comes in late with her boyfriend, and they screw each other’s brains out on the other side of the room. They try to be quiet, but I have quite a repertoire of dirty talk from listening to them go at it. Not to mention all the panting and moaning and gasping that goes on. I’m not a virgin, but I’m pretty close. I study hard so I don’t lose my scholarship, and I work this job in all my free time. I go out with guys occasionally but only nice guys who my dad would approve of.
My dad loves me, and I’m all he has now. I’m not going to disappoint him. That means I only have sex when I’m serious about a guy. Lately, that means I don’t have sex at all.
Being the good girl I am, I kept the smile on my face until closing time, when I was finally able to escape. Nick and his party were the last ones to leave, and I figured they’d be long gone when I finally walked out to my car.
So I was shocked when I heard his voice from behind me, just as I was unlocking my car in the parking lot.
“Jenna.”
I turned around with a gasp at the sound of my name. I knew who it was even before I saw Nick approaching me. My breath hitched at the sight of his face and intense gaze.
“So you’re pretending you don’t even know me now?” he asked, a rough edge to his tone that sounded like resentment.
I gasped again, this time in indignation. “I’m pretending not to know you?”
He arched his dark eyebrows arrogantly and stepped forward, until he’d almost pinned me against the car. “I guess it’s easier for you that way, not to have to think about what happened.”
I was so angry I wanted to scratch lines down his face. The bastard must get pleasure from hurting me even more, reminding me of what he did to me, grinding me into the dirt beneath his shoe. How could I have ever thought he was tender and sensitive? How could I ever have thought he cared about me?
Instead of trying to strangle him—which is what I really wanted to do—I just gave him a super-sweet smile, the kind the pageant girls always gave when they were just about to stab you in the back. “You have an inflated sense of your own importance, if you think I’m still tempted to even think about you. I’ve been with enough other guys now to know how unimpressive you were in bed.”
Something flickered on his face, so I thought for a moment I might have struck home, but then he gave a slow, hot smile that was almost predatory. I thought he was going to speak, but instead he eased forward even more until his body was brushing against mine.
And, damn it, my body was suddenly a lit fuse, aflame with
a hot coursing of desire. My pussy clenched and my skin flushed, and it was all I could do not to rub up against him.
The knowledge of how he could still turn me on was so upsetting I couldn’t deal with it. I pushed him back and turned around and scrambled into my car without saying anything else.
I was panting and trembling as I started the ignition and pulled out of my parking place.
Nick was still standing there, watching me.
Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I was emotional and distracted and mortified by what had just happened, but I’m absolutely sure I looked both ways for approaching cars before I pulled out onto the street.
The only car approaching had a stop sign. I had the right-of-way. There was no way I could know the other car wasn’t going to stop at all.
Sometimes things happen that completely change your life, and there is no warning at all.
Three years ago, I got a call from my father, telling me my mother had been diagnosed with cancer. That was one of those moments.
And this was another—pulling out onto the street, thinking about Nick and how heartless he was and how much I hated him and how much I still wanted to fuck him.
My life changed.
The other car slammed into mine, and the entire world went dark.
One
Unimpressive? Fuck that. I’ve been called many things by many women but unimpressive isn’t one of them. I was tempted to get in my car and go after Jenna, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Not yet.
It was pleasure enough to watch her tonight and see how uncomfortable she was at seeing me. Good. I hope her fucking conscience is still wreaking havoc on her after all this time. Yeah, right. Like she even has a conscience.
I turned toward my truck and raked a hand through my hair when I heard the horrific sound of metal crashing metal. Brakes screeching. Glass shattering. I quickly spun around, and for the briefest of seconds, I felt like time was standing still. Everything seemed to stop. And for some reason, my brain couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing.
Jenna!
Then my head finally got back in the game. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed 911 as I raced toward the car. The entire driver’s side of Jenna’s car was smashed in, and I couldn’t get close to it. I gave the dispatcher our location and hung up. The driver of the other car got out—a young guy who was clearly shaken up—and began immediately freaking out¸ crying and pacing. He barely looked legal, and all I wanted to do was wrap my hands around his throat and threaten to kill him if anything had happened to Jenna.
What the hell was I even thinking? Of course something had happened to her. I may not have been able to get to her, but I could see she wasn’t moving.
“Dude, seriously,” the kid was crying, trying to climb over the mangled hood of his car to get to her, “is she all right? Is she moving? Why isn’t she moving?”
Last thing I needed right now was this kid doing any more damage. I lunged for him and pulled him away from the car. “There’s an ambulance on the way,” I said firmly, hoping my tone would shut him the fuck up. “Leave her.”
“But…but…”
I spun him around and tried to see if he had been drinking, but his breath was fine and he seemed completely sober. “What the hell were you thinking?” I demanded. “Why didn’t you stop?”
“I…I…”
Fuck. The kid was probably going to pee himself. I shoved him away and leaned across the hood of the car myself. “Jenna? Baby? Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
“Wait…you know her?”
Yeah. A long time ago, I thought. Another lifetime ago. Now wasn’t the time to go there.
My heart was racing, and it took every bit of willpower to keep myself from pulling the cars apart and getting to her. I knew I could get to her from the passenger side, but I also knew it’s not smart to move someone who’s been in an accident. The last thing I wanted to do was physically hurt her any more than she already was.
Where the hell was the ambulance? I looked around frantically, almost willing one to appear. I couldn’t hear any sirens. I didn’t see any flashing lights.
The kid continued to ramble, and when he realized I wasn’t paying attention, he pulled out his own phone and walked away. Thank God.
Although now, with nothing to do but stand here and wait, my mind began to drift away from the present and firmly came to a stop in the past.
Three years ago to be exact…
“You’re trash.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d been called that, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why Jenna’s father—my boss—was hurling it at me with a sneer. “Excuse me?”
“I gave you a job. I helped you get in to college, and this is how you repay me?”
Shit. I knew there’d be repercussions from sleeping with Jenna, but I didn’t think the old man would find out this soon. “Look, it’s not…”
“Shut up. The cops will be here soon. Save it for them.”
Wait…the cops? What the hell? “What are you talking about?” Surely this couldn’t be about sleeping with his daughter. She wasn’t under age and…
George Bishop stalked around his desk until we were toe to toe. “You know damn well what I’m talking about. Thank god Jenna filled me in on what you’d done!”
“Look, Mr. Bishop…there’s been a misunderstanding. Please! If you’d just tell me what you’re talking about, we can clear this up.”
He shook his head. “I’m glad I convinced Jenna to cozy up to you. I had my suspicions about you, and she was more than willing to help.” He smirked. “There’s nothing she wouldn’t do for me. For her family.”
I thought I was going to be sick. Jenna used me? It was almost too much to bear. She’d been crushing on me for a long time. I knew it. And she openly admitted it when we finally started to hang out and things got serious. Fuck, I had even taken her virginity, and she did it all for daddy? What the hell?
Rage. White hot rage filled me, and I was just about to lunge at the smug bastard when two uniformed policemen walked in.
“That’s him, officers,” George said calmly and then stepped back as I was roughly cuffed. They were leading me out when George called for them to halt. “Oh…and Nick? Your scholarship has been revoked and I’ve notified the school of this matter. Good luck getting your degree.” He nodded to the officers. “Now you can take him away.”
“Dude! The ambulance! I think that’s it coming up the road!”
My head snapped around, and I saw the flashing lights coming toward us. I was instantly back in the present.
I felt completely helpless. Useless. I could only stand back and watch as the rescue squad pulled up and began the process of getting to Jenna. I wanted to yell at them to be careful. To be gentle. To take care of her. I knew it wasn’t my place, but I couldn’t seem to stop the thoughts.
A cop was talking to the kid and he was babbling, so I walked over. “I saw the whole thing, Officer,” I said, unable to fully tear my gaze away from what they were doing to Jenna.
“I’ll need to get a statement from you,” he replied.
I nodded but a loud scraping sound had me spinning around. They had freed Jenna from the car, and I almost sagged with relief. She was being stabilized on the back board, and I started to walk toward her.
A strong hand on my arm stopped me.
“Do you know her?” the cop asked and I nodded. “We’ll need that information.”
The paramedics were wheeling her toward the ambulance. “I need to go with her.” Seriously, I don’t know what my deal was. I know I have strong feelings for Jenna—mostly negative—but I needed to know she’s okay.
I was expecting an argument from the cop—I only have the one experience with police and it wasn’t good—but he let go of my arm and nodded. “We’ll meet you over at Texas Health.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled and ran toward my car. I should have asked to ride in the ambulance
with Jenna, but I didn’t want to do anything to hinder her care. I’d get to the hospital right with them and make sure I was in the know.
I may not like Jenna.
Actually, right now I’m a weird place. I want to hate her. I want to keep feeling that fire I’ve had burning in me for the last three years. And yet right now, seeing her unconscious made it hard to hold onto it.
She didn’t deserve to be hurt like this.
But make no mistake, she deserves to be hurt in other ways.
By me.
***
Two hours later I was staring at the doctor like he was speaking Greek. “I…” I began. “I don’t think I understand.”
“Mr. Watson, Jenna’s very lucky,” he said.
“Lucky? Are you for real?”
He sighed patiently. “She has a concussion and some bruises, but it could have been much worse. Luckily her air bag deployed and saved her from more damage. We’d like to keep her overnight for observation, especially given her mental condition. Does she have any family members that you can call? She was asking for her father.”
Fuck. There was no way I was going there. George Bishop could fucking die for all I cared. I wasn’t going to call him. “She’s awake, right?”
Dr. Ramsey nodded.
“So…she should be all right to call her family. I don’t know them.”
Suddenly the good doctor looked a little uncomfortable. “I guess…what I mean is…I thought you understood what was going on.”
“What are you talking about?” Seriously, this guy had been throwing medical jargon at me for the better part of twenty minutes, and I still didn’t have a clue as to what he had been saying.
“I don’t think Jenna should be making calls right now.”
“Why not? You just told me she was lucky.”
He nodded. “I did. She is. But with retrograde amnesia, it can be tricky. She’s a bit fragile right now. She needs to be kept calm and—”
“Wait, wait, wait. Amnesia? Fucking amnesia? Why didn’t you say that sooner?”
“I mentioned her memory to you…”