Love Me Not

by Reese Ryan

  Melanie laughed. “He’s not my boyfriend, and yes, we went to a play last week. He had an extra ticket.”

  “Have you noticed that not-your-boyfriend gets an awful lot of ‘extra’ tickets?” Jamie put the phone on speaker and flopped down on the futon in her studio.

  “No. I mean...I never really thought about it. Do you think he’s just saying that?”

  Jamie rolled her eyes. She loved her friend, but God, she could be naïve sometimes. “I think that he likes you and for some ridiculous reason he won’t just come out and say it.”

  “We can’t all be as bold as you are, James.” Mel laughed. “Speaking of which, I haven’t heard much about your sexual conquests of late. You holding out on me?”

  She bit her lower lip, heat spreading through her cheeks. Talking about the guys she’d seen in the past had never been a big deal. Sex had been a game to her and she was the ringmaster. It was purely inconsequential fucking. Nobody got hurt, unless of course they wanted to be. But with Miles, everything was different. She couldn’t explain her feelings for Miles or give a name to them. Being with him made her feel giddy and happy and confused. She wanted to tell Mel, but a part of her wanted to keep what they had between them and not share it with anyone else. Not even Mel. At least, not yet. “I’m kicking it with a guy I met at the bar,” she said finally. “No big deal.”

  “It’s never a big deal for you. Poor guys. They have no idea who they’re dealing with,” Mel teased. “Is Ex still pining for you?”

  Jamie knew Mel was just teasing, but she’d struck a frayed nerve. She and Ex hadn’t spoken since they’d argued that night about Miles. She still felt bad about it, but not enough to call and apologize. Why should she? He was completely wrong. He should be the one to apologize. “Me and Ex, we’re kind of on the outs right now,” she said quickly.

  Melanie laughed. “When are you and Ex not ‘on the outs’?”

  “True.” She forced a nervous laugh. “But what I was calling to ask...I mean, I wanted to tell you...”

  “Is everything alright?” Mel’s tone turned serious.

  “Everything’s fine, it’s just that...” Jamie closed her eyes and clenched her fist. She wanted to tell Melanie what happened to her as a kid, and about Miles, and what she was feeling for him, but the words refused to budge from her throat, no matter how badly she wanted them to. “Lisa—you know, the girl I work with—she’s been seeing this guy, a really nice guy. A guy different from any of the guys she usually goes out with.”

  “Lisa, the waitress with that annoying little dog? I thought her only requirement was that a man be good-looking, have money and be willing to spend it on her.”

  Jamie stifled a laugh. That summed Lisa up, all right. “Well, this guy is different. I mean, he has money, but it’s not about that for her. She has feelings for him. It’s a little scary for her. She’s never felt like this before.”

  “Hmm...this isn’t like when you told me the story about your mysterious ‘friend’ who had ten outstanding parking tickets, is it?”

  The pounding of her pulse thumped in Jamie’s ears. Tell her. Tell her. Tell her. She took a deep breath, forced a smile and let out an incredulous snort. “A girl does the phantom friend thing once and you never let her live it down.”

  “Okay, fine,” Melanie conceded. “Now back to Lisa. Sounds like the girl’s in love.” Melanie’s voice was teasing.

  A knot tightened in Jamie’s stomach. “She doesn’t think she’s in love with him, but he says he’s falling in love with her. And she’s worried.”

  “About what?”

  “That things will change between them because he thinks he loves her. That he’ll be mad at her because she can’t say it back. That the way she feels about this guy...that it’s changing her.”

  “Changing her how?”

  Jamie ran her fingers through her hair then cursed under her breath when she realized she now had streaks of green and red paint in her hair. Not that she hadn’t worn those shades before. Just never together. Not even for the holidays. “I don’t know, she says she feels...different, maybe not in control, and she doesn’t like that feeling.”

  “Hmm...I see your point,” Mel said. “But love isn’t about being in control. It’s about letting go. If Lisa wants to truly have that with this guy, she has to be willing to let go. She can’t be afraid or she’ll never fall in love with him, or anyone.”

  Jamie’s leg bounced as she contemplated her next question. “Is that how you felt when you were with Jax? Out of control?”

  Melanie was silent. The question had sucked all of the air out of their conversation. After all these years, Jax was still a sore spot for Melanie, and Jamie knew it. She wouldn’t have brought him up and caused Melanie hurt feelings, but it was a question she needed to have answered.

  Melanie heaved a sigh. “I did, but not in a good way. I was an idiot when it came to him. I still don’t know why.”

  “You loved him,” Jamie quickly supplied. “If love makes you crazy, why would anyone want to feel that way?”

  “Because it’s the most amazing feeling in the world, loving someone that way, being loved like that.”

  “Sounds risky.” Jamie ran her fingers along the edge of the table. Her heart felt heavy.

  “Since when are you risk-averse?” Melanie asked. “I don’t know about Lisa, but you won’t give up control because you’re a born ball-buster and you refuse to believe there’s any other way.”

  Jamie shrugged. “Maybe. But at least you don’t get hurt.”

  “That’s true. But you never get to be loved either,” Melanie said quietly. “Look, I’m at the client’s now so I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Sure. Good luck.”

  “Thanks. Tell Lisa good luck, too.”

  “Huh?”

  “With her boyfriend, silly.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I will.” Jamie sighed. “I think she’s going to need it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jamie drew in a deep breath and opened the door. Miles’s smiling face greeted her, handsome as always. Nothing in his eyes or smile indicated that he was upset about the other day. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” He leaned in and kissed her. A familiar pungent but tantalizing aroma swirled around him.

  “Oh my God! You got real corned beef. At this time of night? Where from?” She took the bag from him and peeked inside as he locked the door, his overnight bag slung over one shoulder. “Slyman’s? No way! They close at, like, three in the freakin’ afternoon. How’d you get corned beef from there?”

  “Bought it earlier and had them keep the bread and everything separate so it wouldn’t get all soggy.” His brows lifted and the corners of his mouth turned up.

  Jamie wasn’t sure which was more tantalizing—Miles’s dancing blue eyes and devilish grin, or the orgasmically delicious corned beef sandwich that awaited her. Maybe she did love this guy, after all. She lifted onto her toes and kissed his cheek. “You’re pretty sweet, you know that?”

  She headed up the stairs with Miles trailing her, both of them trying to avoid all the creaky spots on the stairs so they wouldn’t wake her neighbors.

  “Coming from you, I’m not sure that’s a compliment.” She could hear the teasing in his voice, but she knew he was only half-joking.

  She couldn’t blame him for feeling that way. A few months ago she would’ve equated being sweet with being soft. But Miles’s compassion and sensitivity complemented his strength and conviction. He was like a broken-in leather jacket, soft and masculine all at the same time.

  “It’s definitely a compliment,” she assured him, shoving her apartment door and holding it open for him.

  Miles set his bag on the floor then took her in his arms. He kissed her again, this time full on the lips.

  “Be careful. You’re going to smash a kick-ass corned beef sandwich—a crime punishable by death in some countries.” She slipped
from his arms and carried the bag to the kitchen.

  He laughed. “If it were up to you, it would be in this country.”

  “Damn straight.” She washed her hands and laid the contents of the bag on the counter. About two pounds of corned beef. A loaf of rye bread. Yellow mustard packets. Dill pickles. She was practically salivating. Miles leaned against the doorway. He licked his slightly parted lips as he watched her.

  She smiled. “Is that a dill pickle in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

  “Well, you are wearing those unbelievably short shorts and it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. I miss you.” His voice was heavy and raspy as he inched up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and nuzzling his face in her neck. Mouth pressed to her ear, he ground his firm erection against her, adding, “We missed you.”

  She turned to face him, looping her arms around his waist. “How do you expect me to make a Slyman’s-worthy sandwich while you’re grinding that thing against me?”

  His mouth spread into a conspiratorial grin. “That’s kind of the point.”

  “I like you and everything, Copeland.” She backed away from him, but he followed, step for step. “But we’re talking about the best corned beef in Cleveland. In Ohio. Maybe even the free world.”

  “Hmm...you make a good point.” He pinned her against the small island on the other side of the kitchen. “So I guess I’d really have to make it worth your while to delay such amazing gratification.” He kissed her neck.

  “It would have to be really, really, really worth my while.” Jamie bit her lip, trying to rein in the smile that threatened to break across her face. “I mean, really worth it.”

  “Challenge accepted.” He pressed his lips on hers, his tongue sliding between her lips.

  She gripped his waist, flattening her belly against him, reveling in the stark manifestation of his desire for her.

  Miles stripped off her Lilith Fair T-shirt and tossed it onto the floor. He undid her bra before tossing it, too. Pressing his warm mouth against her exposed flesh, his tongue grazed one sensitive peak gently at first while teasing the other with his thumb. He slipped one leg between hers and grasped her ass.

  Jamie let out a sharp gasp in response to the delicious heat and friction of his thigh caressing her through the thin terry-cloth shorts. She ground her hips against him, intensifying the sensation, and craned her neck, allowing him to kiss and nip at the skin.

  She had the willpower of a bitch in heat when it came to Miles Copeland. He was all she could think about. She’d never wanted anyone more.

  Miles grasped her waist and lifted her onto the counter. A devilish grin spread across his face as he laid her down on the cold, hard counter, splaying her legs open. He planted kisses along her inner thigh. Her breathing grew shallow as he inched toward the throbbing source of heat and moisture at her core. He kissed her there through her shorts. She squirmed, relishing the intense pleasure, a voracious need building.

  He slid her shorts and panties off and shoved them onto the floor. The greedy glint in those blue eyes sent her desire spiraling. Every inch of her skin was amped up with an insatiable need that made it hard to breathe, but especially right...there.

  A soft whimper escaped her lips, the intensity building as his warm mouth pressed against her pulsating wetness. When he slipped his tongue inside her, she dug her heels into the granite, her pelvis tilting toward him. A silent plea for him to go deeper.

  Miles gripped her thighs. His tongue continued its deliciously gratifying assault. She trembled, reeling between breathtaking pleasure and a hunger so consuming her entire body ached for him. He was determined to make good on his promise to make it worth her while, and God, was he ever. Her walls clenched, limbs quivering as a delicious feeling of intense pleasure erupted at her core, rolling through her body in waves. She shuddered, breathless, satisfied.

  Jamie pressed a hand to her forehead. Miles kissed his way up her abdomen. Threading her fingers through his hair, she raised her head enough to plant a kiss on top of his head. Her breath was still ragged. “That was so...fucking...good.”

  “You don’t think I’m done yet.” He planted delicate kisses along her flesh until his lips, salty with the taste of her, met hers.

  He pulled her into a seated position at the edge of the counter. Kissing her long and hard, he glided his tongue against hers as he ground his shaft—straining for release from his jeans—against her. Jamie wrapped her legs around his waist, determined to intensify the agonizing pleasure of the rough fabric grazing her hypersensitive flesh.

  She tore her mouth from his and fumbled with his buckle, unbuttoning his jeans.

  Miles pulled a foil square from his back pocket and ripped the packet open. He shoved the heavy denim and his boxers down his hips, the material pooling around his ankles.

  Jamie bit back a lascivious grin. She watched him roll the condom along his hardened length. “Guess that wasn’t a pickle in your pocket after all.”

  Lips parted, his eyes—glazed with lust—locked on hers. Sliding one hand to her back, he used the other to guide himself inside her.

  A soft whimper caught in her throat at the exquisite sensation of him slowly filling her, and he let out a corresponding low moan. The pleasure built as he snaked his way inside her inch by inch. He seemed determined to torture her by making her wait for what she wanted so badly—to feel him so deep inside her she was practically breathing for him. She clamped him between her thighs, her heels digging into his ass, forcing him to give her every inch of him this very goddamn second. He thrust in and out of her. His jaw was tight, his face red from the effort. Her walls clenched around him, drawing him in deeper.

  “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” he whispered in her ear, the roughness of his five o’clock shadow grazing her skin.

  Her only response was the low, intense moan that escaped her lips. She locked her legs around him even tighter.

  Miles slid his arms underneath her legs and gripped her waist, lifting her off the counter. She opened her mouth to protest, fearing he’d drop her, until she felt the head of his cock crashing against her core, sending a new wave of pleasure rippling through her body. Her head dropped back, her mouth falling open as she murmured her approval. Finally she felt his entire body tense, then shudder, his breath hard and ragged.

  He labored to catch his breath, still holding her to him. Barely able to get out the words, he flashed a devilish grin. “So...how’d I do?”

  Before she could respond with a smart-ass remark, Miles tipped backward, his ankles trapped in the denim. They both went crashing to the floor.

  “Oh my God. Are you alright?” Jamie got on her hands and knees beside him.

  “I’m fine. Are you okay?” His face was red. She wasn’t sure if it was still from the physical exertion of their lovemaking or because he was embarrassed about tumbling to the floor.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “After all, I did have you to break my fall.”

  They both fell into a fit of giggles on the floor.

  “We will never speak of this. Ever.” Miles grinned.

  Jamie couldn’t stop laughing. “My neighbors must think I’m insane, making that kind of noise at this time of morning.”

  “That is the most embarrassing moment during sex I’ve ever had. Ever. And that includes my unbelievably inept first attempt at sixteen.” Miles laughed, putting one hand over his face. “That was like Sex Hall of Fame bad.”

  “Is there a Sex Hall of Fame?” Jamie was finally able to hold her laughter enough to raise herself to a seated position. “Because if there isn’t, there should totally be one.”

  “Agreed,” Miles said. He pushed himself forward then winced in pain.

  “What is it?” Jamie reached for his left hand. “Did you seriously hurt yourself?”

  “I tweaked my wrist a little.” He turned it from side to side. “After all, I did use it to cushion your fall.”

  “God, I’m so sorry.
” She took his hand gently in hers. “And here I am, making fun of you. I would never have laughed if I knew you were actually hurt. Is it broken?”

  Miles maneuvered his fingers and wrist. “No. It might be a sprain,” he said. “No big deal. I’ve sprained it a dozen times before. Football, basketball, baseball. You name it. I’ll be fine.” He tried to put weight on the wrist to lift himself up and couldn’t. “Okay, so maybe it’s a little worse than I thought,” he said, nursing the hand.

  Jamie scrambled to her feet. “Here, let me help you up.” She helped pull him to his feet, his pants still around his ankles.

  Jamie got dressed then helped Miles get dressed, too. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” She buckled his belt and tucked in his shirt.

  “Now?”

  “We’re not out in the boonies, you know. We have twenty-four-hour emergency centers here, too.”

  “You’re overreacting. I’m fine. Just give me some ice and it’ll be better by the morning.”

  Jamie looked at his wrist. It was bruised and starting to turn black and blue. She pressed her fingers gently against his wrist bone and he made a sound reminiscent of a wounded animal. “It is not fine. We’re going.”

  * * *

  Great. He was a fucking genius. What guy couldn’t manage a little kitchen island sex without injuring himself? The last thing he wanted to do was go to the hospital and explain how he’d hurt his wrist. The doctors and nurses would be laughing about that for days.

  If he could just put some ice on it, it would probably be fine. Miles grabbed the refrigerator door with his left wrist and tried to yank it open. The pain was nearly unbearable. Guess he’d have to be the joke of the day after all.

  “You ready?” Jamie put on a crocheted hat and a pair of matching mittens before helping him slip his coat over his injured wrist.

  “Yeah. Let’s go. We can take my car.”

  * * *

  Miles couldn’t believe how many people were at the emergency at four-thirty in the morning. He stepped out of the car and closed the door with his good hand. “Was there a riot in the middle of the night or something?”