by Amy Starling
But was that such a bad thing? Somebody had to be my first. Someone had to take my virginity away.
Why not him?
At least he definitely knew what he was doing...
“This online dating thing is a scam, if you ask me.” He kicked back in the chair, feet on my desk. “Doesn't look like it's worked for you so far.”
I clicked on “New Profile.” A list of questions popped up, along with a form to fill out. Jayce would never do this on his own. I'd have to handle it myself.
“I'm very picky. Most of the messages I get are stuff like 'Hey baby, wanna screw tonight?' And 'Nice ass, let's talk.'”
He grinned. “What's the matter with that? I mean, it's not like the guy is wrong.”
“Not... wrong?”
“About your ass. It is nice.”
I rolled my eyes to hide how much he flattered me. “Is this how you pick up all those one-night stands at the bar?”
“Usually works pretty well.” He shrugged. “Girls love a compliment.”
My hormones were going crazy just from being so near him. And the moment he mentioned my butt, I fantasized about sitting in his lap, grinding against him while he undressed me...
“Okay, let's see what we got here.” He stood directly behind me, peering at the screen over my shoulder. “Question one. What am I looking for? Long-term relationship, marriage, platonic friends, casual sex... Hey, maybe this online thing will work out for me, after all.”
He clicked the button for “casual sex.” I glared and slapped him away, then selected “marriage.” He made a face at me.
“I hate you sometimes.”
“Jayce, please.” I took his hand to show I was serious. Physical touch always got his attention. “You know we'll lose the property if you refuse. I don't understand it, but that's what the will says.”
“Yeah. I know.” His voice had a bitter edge. “And the last thing I want is to let dad get his way. But marriage? That's totally not me.”
“Maybe that's why Debbie wanted it for you. You were a son to her. She wanted to see you happy.”
His big hand completely enveloped mine. His skin was dry, his fingers rough and calloused from the hard work that firefighters do.
I wanted those hands all over me. Craved his touch. Needed it so, so badly.
“But I am happy. I've got a great job, awesome friends, nice apartment. What more could I possibly want?”
“Love.”
He scoffed and let go of my hand. “That's one thing in life I can do without.”
“How can you say that? Everyone wants to be loved.”
“Never believed in it.”
“Maybe you just need the right woman to help you believe.”
He laughed, but there was pain written all over his face. What happened to him? I wanted to know.
I wanted to help make him better.
“Can we please just get this over with? Talking about this crap makes me nervous.”
“Fine.”
We filled in his basic information first, then it was time to choose a username.
“How about 'AssMan69?'” he helpfully suggested.
I gaped at him. “Tell me you're joking.”
“But you said I should be honest on my profile. I am an ass man.”
“You're an ass, all right.” I thought for a moment, then began typing. “Let's try 'Fireman86.' It's descriptive. Respectable.”
He pouted. “I don't like being respectable. It's boring.”
“Grow up.”
We moved on to the other questions. For interests, he listed weightlifting, beer, cooking, and playing guitar.
“You haven't played the guitar since high school,” I protested. “That's stretching the truth a bit.”
“I can play just as well now as back then.”
“And you don't cook.”
He folded his arms. “Sure I do. I made burgers for you guys a couple weeks ago.”
“You grilled inside your kitchen with the windows shut. There was so much smoke, the alarm went off. Mrs. Jackson called the fire department.”
“Didn't say I could cook well. It's the thought that counts.”
Next question. “Income?”
He tensed as he studied the screen. “Don't want a woman to date me 'cause of my bank account.”
It was the most serious I'd seen him this whole time. I wasn't sure whether to be impressed or wonder why.
“I doubt you have to worry about gold-diggers. No offense.” My mouse pointer hovered over the answer bubbles. “What do you want me to put?”
He hesitated. “Let's go with $50 to 70 K.”
I had no idea how much firefighters made, but I was fairly impressed. It was more than I earned working at Shady Acres, for sure.
“Now here's the hard part. You've got to describe the kind of woman you want, in your own words.”
He got down on his knees and laughed softly, his hot breath tickling the back of my neck.
I melted. Prayed he'd kiss me there no matter how wrong and stupid I knew it would be.
But he didn't. I should have been relieved.
I was only disappointed.
“Must love getting laid,” he began. “If she's got a low libido, we're not gonna work out.”
“That goes without saying, but I'm not going to write that.”
“Here you go, being your uptight self again.”
I turned around to shoot him a nasty look. Came face to face with him. He raised an eyebrow and gave me a smile that screamed sex and promised, as he had said, the best night of my life.
I wasn't going to last much longer around this.
“It's nothing to do with being uptight. How do you expect to attract a good woman with a line like that? Sounds like you're writing the opening sentence to an erotic novel.”
He threw up his hands. “You said to describe the type of girl I wanted. I can't win.”
“This is serious, Jayce. You're supposed to be getting married. No more time for screwing around and whoring yourself out to any girl who asks.”
“I don't whore myself out to just anyone. I'm picky.” He rubbed my shoulder. “Just like you, Pink.”
His touch felt so good. So comforting. I didn't want him to stop.
He put his arms around me so he could reach the keyboard. I held my breath and prayed for him to put those hands someplace else...
No, you can't. Are you crazy?
He was trying to find a wife, and here I was, ready to let him have my innocence if he so much as looked at me the right way.
It was wrong. Casual sex wouldn't get him any closer to marriage.
But the damage had been done. Now I couldn't stop imagining how it'd feel to have him inside me.
“There.”
He had finished writing, but his arms remained around me. It'd be so easy for him to wrap me in a tight embrace, to tear off my clothes and take me from behind...
“Well, what do you think?”
I shook it off and read.
“I want someone to share my life with. A woman who loves good food, music, and a frosty beer. Someone who will travel the world with me. Who'll be my friend and my lover.”
There was a distant, thoughtful sort of look in his eyes.
“This is the most expressive I think I've ever seen you.”
He shrugged. “That's what girls are looking for, right? You promise 'em champagne and roses, they'll drop their panties at a snap of your fingers.”
“I, uh... I think you're missing the point here.”
But it was done, and not altogether bad. Actually, I was proud of him for even getting this far. Thought he'd have faked an important phone call and run out the door to safety by now.
“Now for the best part.” I slid my digital camera out of its case. “Your profile photo.”
He beamed. “Finally, something I'm good at – looking hot.”
“Do you always have to be so full of yourself?”
He threw his arm aro
und me while I booted the camera up and fiddled with the settings. There was no way he couldn't feel me trembling.
“What's wrong with that when it's the truth?” He whispered in my ear, each word making me shiver. “You think I'm attractive, don't you, Pink?”
I instinctively backed into him, pressing up against his hard chest and... That wasn't the only thing hard rubbing against me. Oh, God.
“I can't deny it,” I murmured.
He whirled me around and looked over me with approval. “Just the same as I can't deny how beautiful you are. Far too pretty, in fact, to be sitting at home alone every night.”
Nervous as hell, I dropped the camera. Thankfully, the rug cushioned the fall.
“You're young and sexy,” he continued. “You should be out dancing, flirting, and picking up guys to bring home. You could have a new one every week. Or even every night, if you're ambitious.”
“I'd rather not. One is enough for me.”
“Yet you don't even have that.”
I frowned. What he said bothered me. “Shut up and smile for the camera.”
“I'll make a deal with you.” He leaned against the wall and I snapped a couple of shots. “I'll give this dating thing a chance – if you do, too.”
“I am giving it a chance.”
“No, you're not. You turn down guys left and right 'cause they're not perfect for you, whatever that means. I got news for you: No man's ever going to be perfect. You can be just as happy with good enough.”
“Mm. Should I really be taking dating advice from the likes of you?”
I reviewed the pictures I'd taken. Damn, he looked like a model in every single one. Lucky jerk.
Even luckier, though, were the girls he took to bed.
I wished I was one of them. Knew I'd regret it in the morning. Didn't care.
“You know I'm right.”
“Whatever. So what exactly is this deal of yours?”
“A double date.”
My thumb slipped and I accidentally took a picture of his shoe. Oh, boy. What mess was he gonna get me into now?
“I'll find a nice girl to take out tomorrow night. You pick from one of those boys who've been messaging you. We'll all go out together to Jezebel's.”
“That fancy nightclub? I sure as heck can't afford that. The cover alone is $40 a person. It's $10 for a single draft beer.”
“I'll take care of it.”
He was planning something. I knew that look.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I'm tired of watching you mope around the apartment every single day. You're bored, lonely, and stressed the hell out.”
“No I'm not –”
He strode toward me and gently stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Yeah, you are. Ever since you took ownership and moved in here, you've been running around like a headless chicken. I keep thinking you're gonna implode one day.”
Did he... Was he trying to say he cared about me?
No way. Jayce Reinhard cared for nobody but himself.
But he was right.
“You want me to settle down? Well, I can't promise that. But I can promise I'll go on a date tomorrow night if you'll come with me.”
“I guess you do need a babysitter.”
“Exactly. I'm good in bed, but when it comes to romance, I haven't got a clue.”
“I'm sure you could be a gentleman if you tried.”
He wandered away to the couch. My cheek still tingled where he touched me.
“Gentlemen are no fun at all.” He loosened the top button of his shirt. “You need a bad boy in your life.”
Another button, then another. The flaps of his shirt fell open. His tattoos peeked out at me, dark, mysterious swirls of black ink that meant something to him, and him alone. They were beautiful against the tan of his skin. Who wouldn't stare?
“What are you doing?”
“If you're taking shots for my profile, better get a few of these too.” He shifted; the shirt opened more. “Or maybe I'm stripping for you. Consider yourself lucky – a personal show, free of charge.”
He'd been working out. His abs were a well-defined six pack so irresistible, I longed to put my hands on him. He followed my gaze. Smiled.
“You love attention, don't you?”
“Adore it.”
I raised my camera. He wanted me to take pictures? Oh, I'd take some damn pictures.
Didn't tell him I'd be looking at these for “inspiration” in bed later tonight...
“I want to see your profile next.”
I cringed. “No, you don't.”
“Yeah. Now I'm curious what your pictures look like. If you've got any half-nude shots up there.”
“Why?” My voice cracked. “Of course I don't.”
He slowly stroked the little patch of hair around his navel. I imagined him tracing those deliberate circles on my own flesh. Squirmed when I realized how wet I'd gotten.
“So it's okay for me, but not you?” He wagged his finger. “Not fair. We need some pics of you in a short skirt. Hike it up, show a bit of thigh. A hint of cleavage wouldn't hurt, either. Bet you'd score a thousand messages per day if you did that.”
“Jayce, damn it.”
“What's wrong? I thought you wanted to find the love of your life.”
“Not by acting like a slut.”
He shrugged. “Desperate times, right?”
“Who said I was desperate?”
His stare was full of fire and lust. I could barely breathe when he looked at me that way.
“I'm not a fool, Pink. Bet you haven't gotten screwed properly in a very long time. And you know what? That's just a shame.”
I couldn't even argue with him.
“Maybe it'll happen on this double date of ours.”
He nibbled his lower lip. It was so sexy. Too damn sexy.
“There's no maybe about it.”
He stood, revealing more of his gorgeous chest to drool over. He was teasing me, tempting me with what I could have if only I had the courage to ask.
“I promise you this, Elle. Tomorrow night, I'm gonna make sure you get laid.”
Chapter 5 - Jayce
I felt like a fool as I pulled into this chick's driveway. I'd never been the sort of guy who picked girls up for dates.
The ladies were the ones who came to me. If they wanted it bad enough, that is. And they always did.
“Guess this is it.” I checked the address on my phone to be sure. “Yep, Windsor Avenue. This is the place.”
I laid into the horn. The front door opened, and a girl with curly red hair poked her head out. She gawked at me for several seconds, muttered something under her breath, and went back inside.
I knew right away there was gonna be trouble.
“PussyKat2005” was this girl's screen name on that ridiculous website Elle signed me up for. Her real name, or so she said, was Reese.
In all of her pictures, she had been blonde and skinny. Not too shabby. I told Elle she'd do for a fling.
“This isn't supposed to be a fling,” she scolded me. “You're trying to find a girlfriend and get yourself a wife.”
I told her I thought “wife” was a dirty word. She punched me in the chest.
Probably just an excuse to put her hands on me.
That was okay by me. I liked it when she got physical.
Why didn't I make a move the night before? She was obviously into me. And I'd already jerked off twice today thinking of her. Of that sweet little ass bouncing as she ran. Of her perky nipples peeking at me through her wet shirt.
Yikes. My pants were suddenly quite a bit tighter in the crotch.
Where was this Reese girl? I sighed and honked again. She'd better not make us late to Jezebel. Elle hated it when I was late.
It was pretty damn cute, though. She'd fold her arms and tap her foot and fake this dramatic sigh while checking the time on her phone.
Too adorable.
I could get her naked if I wanted t
o, easy as pie. Too bad I wouldn't feel right about it.
She was like family to me. Not the way Heather and I were, obviously, but more like a close cousin. We'd pretty much grown up together, with her spending the summer at Debbie's house every year from third grade to twelfth.
Not only that, she was an awesome friend. I knew from experience that screwing your friends was a bad idea. They thought it meant something, that it was more than just sex.
It never was. They hated me when I said that.
I'd lost a lot of friends that way. Didn't want to lose Elle, too. Besides, we lived in the same building. Talk about a recipe for problems.
So, as badly as I longed to rip off her clothes and show her what she'd been missing all this time, I'd keep it in my pants.
Flirting was okay, though. Wasn't it? I liked flirting with her. It made me happy. Made me forget my problems for a little while.
“Coming, jeez!” A girl's shrill voice pierced my eardrums. “Thought you'd come to the door to get me. This is a date, right?”
The redhead hurried down the steps with a grunt, her face just about the same shade as her hair. She was skinny, all right. Almost too much so. Looked like she could do with a burger once in a while.
She opened the passenger door of my truck and peeked in at me. The girl looked vaguely familiar, but not much like the photos I'd perused online.
“Uh... Are you Reese?”
She finally smiled and flipped her frizzy hair over her shoulder. “That's me. God, you're cuter than I expected.”
Didn't have to tell me that.
“Get in.” I patted her seat. Elle was waiting. “You... Well, you don't look much like your pictures.”
She had a nasally and very annoying laugh. “Guess not. Those were from a couple months back. Then I got my hair dyed. You like redheads, don't you?”
Not really.
“Sure do.”
She climbed into the truck. Her bright-blue dress lifted over her thigh a bit further than intended. I got a good view, too.
Didn't care.
The realization smacked me in the face hard as a bag of rocks. Usually, there was nothing I liked better than to ogle a pretty girl. Well, except for getting her naked and in my bed, I mean.
But right now, I just didn't care.
The only woman I wanted to see naked was Elle.