Jake smiled at her across the table. “I don’t know, Summer. You tell me.”
Did I ask that out loud? Something was scattering her thoughts. She sipped her water and gnawed on an ice cube before unleashing the most lucid sentence she could conjure. “I don’t love Geoffrey,” she blurted. “I’m marrying him because it is the only way I know to get my career back and keep him from setting his sights on someone else.”
Lifting her head she reached out for her glass. Finding it empty, she reached for the bottle. “I think you’ve had enough.” Jake said, taking it out of her reach. “There is a fine line between feeling really good and feeling really bad. I’d rather you just take my word for it.”
The truth had come out but she didn’t care. It actually felt pretty good. In her whole life she had never discussed her feelings about anything to anyone. Mostly because there was no one around to listen. But Jake was there, and she had nothing to lose, at least nothing she could see after a half a bottle of wine “You think I’m crazy don’t you? Marrying someone I don’t love for the sake of my career?”
“I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re driven. We athletes are a rare breed. When you work so hard to hone a talent, losing it sounds pretty scary.”
He had to be the most profound man in the world. Or at least in the restaurant. She looked over at him with newfound awe. “Jake, after your accident, were you afraid?”
“Sure,” he said simply. “I was a lot of things. Angry, confused...” He paused as he swirled the water around in his glass. “Still am sometimes.”
“And you’re happy with your life now?”
Summer expected a quick snide answer, but instead he shifted in his seat. “As happy as I could be, I guess.”
“Have you ever done something that sounded good at the time but end up regretting it later?
Again he was slow to reply. “I think that happens to a lot of people. You count on something and it doesn’t pan out...”
“You know, they say even the best job in the world doesn’t love you back but on the tennis court is the only place I ever felt safe. When I’m playing, I call the shots and I’m the one people fear. ”
Jake’s gaze latched on to hers. “You’re talking about your father, aren’t you?”
“I’ve always wanted a family,” she mused. “I know I want my kids to have a gentle, non-threatening father. That’s why marrying Geoffrey really isn’t so bad. Plus, I’ll always have a hand in the game. That’s as close to ‘happy’ as I ever pictured getting.”
She wasn’t sure if she was campaigning for support or mounting a plea for help. Either way she wanted a response. But for once, Jake was speechless. He just stared at her with his wide blue eyes, rolling the neck of the glass between his fingers.
***
Jake snaked his arm around her as he led her through the door of their suite. They had skipped dessert, instead taking a walk around the gardens in an attempt to sober her up. The diligent agent in him saw the perfect opportunity to pump her for information. The smitten man wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms.
“Why don’t you get ready for bed.” Jake told her, chucking the room key on the foyer table. She answered with a hiccup and a flip of her hand as she disappeared behind the double doors of the bedroom.
He went for the wet bar and poured himself some scotch. One shot wouldn’t hurt, besides it might take the edge off his agitation. Tonight’s dinner offered a wealth of information he was looking for. The part about marrying Geoffrey didn’t surprise him. In fact, it made perfect sense. In her eyes, Geoffrey offered the peace of mind she never had. Jake didn’t have the heart to tell her he was a liar.
It was also still very possible Summer was an accomplice to her own attack. She definitely knew more than she was letting on. But he truly believed if she was holding back, it was because she was afraid of her father’s retaliation. That also meant she still feared Jake too.
He tossed the scotch back with a flip of his wrist, letting the liquid burn in his gut. Through the picture-window, he could see her standing out on the bedroom terrace. Her long blond hair billowing in the breeze, her skin ghostly pale in the moonlight. It was a privilege just to look at her.
His glass still in hand, he made his way out to the balcony. The ocean breeze delivered a potent whiff of her vanilla perfume. “Sweetheart, you’ve had a lot to drink. Why don’t you head on inside...”
She turned to him and squared her shoulders. The darkness in her eyes told him he should brace himself. “Why did my father really send you?”
There it was. The question he was waiting for, and he had rehearsed the answer a million times. “To protect you.”
“To watch me. You’re here to keep tabs on me, aren’t you? Well tell Daddy not to worry. I won’t let him down.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“You work for my father!” she spat. “That alone makes me want to hate you. But I don’t. You tell me to trust you, and I want to.”
“You can trust me, Summer.”
“Yeah, because I don’t have a choice, right?” She dragged her hand over her tear-streaked cheek. “I feel like every important decision in my life has been made for me. When do I get to run my own life, Jake? When can I do something for myself?”
The ache in his gut told him he was no longer the detached agent he wanted to be. He could feel her within him, shoving his insides around. Her presence so incredibly forceful, it drove the breath straight from him. “Summer, I know what it’s like to give up your whole life for one thing. It doesn’t make you less of a person.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek.
“Don’t touch me unless you mean it.”
He drew back, like her words had knocked him off balance. “You think I don’t mean it?”
“Daddy wants me to trust you, right? What better way than to get me in bed!”
The accusation floored him. How dare she think the worst in him? Even if he’d considered the strategy in the beginning, it wasn’t true now.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Jake!”
A seething, hot anger surged within him, melting his steely resolve. He stalked toward her, his fingers clenching to fists at his sides. “I know your father has some sort of strange hold over you. But you have to let it go. Take it from me, you can’t let what he’s done dictate the rest of your life. You’re too damn good to be one of his stooges!”
He had said too much and he knew it. Anger always had a way of loosening his tongue, which was why he had become so good at controlling it. But there was something about her that totally disarmed him. Still holding his empty tumbler, he moved to wing it at the side of the building, but he stopped short before storming back inside.
“Jake, wait,” she called from behind him. “Why are you so angry?”
He was on the edge. The dangerous concoction of rage and desire churned within him like a violent storm. He wanted her, but he also wanted her to understand. He spun around, pulling her to him with greater force than he intended. “You know Summer, if I wanted to sleep with you because Daddy said so, don’t you think I would have had you by now?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
Holding her by the wrist, he shoved her against the wall. She gasped but didn’t resist, her lips parting when his breath hit her in the face. “Maybe it’s the perfect time to give your father what he deserves. You’d be surprised how sleeping with the enemy can settle a score.”
His gaze fell to her mouth, her cherry red lips begging him to take them. He ran a finger over her jaw then down her neck, stopping at the top of her breast. “Don’t tell me you think I’m just one of your father’s loyal field hands. Come on, Summer. I know you’re smarter than that.”
***
The white-hot glare in his eyes reminded her of the feral cats she had once seen in Australia. So cunning and aggressive, any sudden movement would send them into a frenzy. The feeling should have scared
her, but it didn’t. Instead it excited her, making her keenly aware of the strange spell she held over him.
With deliberate care, she slid her fingers between the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them with an ease that surprised her. Like a child opening a most precious gift, her eyes widened when she revealed his bare chest. Steel hard with faint purple ridges. Jagged like cut rock. She leaned in to him, kissing each muscled crease, following the small trail of hair disappearing into his pants.
His large hands took her by the back of her head, bringing her mouth to his. She could taste the bourbon, the syrupy sweetness that slackened his lips. When he shoved his knee between her legs, she was startled by the electric jolt that ripped through her. She moaned, his mouth pressing harder on her as she fought for desperate breath.
Cold air rushed around her when the zipper released on the back of her dress sending it to the floor in a puddle. “Jake,” she breathed, when his fingers found her nipples, teasing them with his fore finger then covering them with his palm. A primal moan escaped her lips. The sound, like nothing she thought she could make. Like a wordless plea or declaration. If it was a language, Jake seemed to understand.
He dipped his head, taking a sharp nub in his mouth and taunting her with his snake-like tongue. If her life had been a famine from human contact, being with Jake was a feast. Sensations pulsed through her she didn’t recognize, forcing responses she couldn’t control. Pushing her hand through his hair, she drew them down his back. His muscles flexed and bowed, his skin slickening in the heat.
With a loud groan he swept her off her feet and laid her on the bed. Looming over her like a giant, his agile fingers unzipped the fly of his pants. “Being bad feels pretty good, doesn’t it sweetheart?”
She nodded, too breathless to find her voice. She felt uncoordinated and clumsy. Like the command over her body had left her. All that remained were basic reflexes and the carnal desire to satisfy every wish of the man standing before her.
This was the real Jake Harrison. The complexly, dark man who lurked underneath the smirk and charm, but having only been exposed in such small doses, she had no idea how deep it ran within him. Her heart raced as she looked at his naked form. As hard as he was, and as big as he was, the sheer mechanics of the impending act scared the hell out of her. But she never balked at a challenge. The competitor in her wanted to give him the play he so obviously demanded. She would not let him down.
He fell on her with a crushing force, driving the breath straight out of her. She gasped when he grabbed her panties, pulling them off with one swift jerk. Lifting her body, she pressed herself against him. Silently, she begged him to touch her. He responded, lapping at her nipples, his hands pulling wildly at her hair.
He drove into her with the velocity of a freight train, sending through her a pain so intense, she was sure he had ripped her in half. But it only made her crave him more, daring herself to take him deeper. Faster. Holding him against her, she kissed him with abandon, urging him, driving him. He responded with a fevered pace, his breathing now pants against her ear.
With each thrust he filled her, her insides holding him within. As the pain subsided, a sweltering heart overcame her, sharpening her senses and exaggerating her response. Opening her eyes, her stare met his and something shifted inside her. Her strength was waning, her muscles buckling. Her body shook and trembled.
Twenty five years of guarded emotion came rushing back with the force of a tidal wave. Washing over her—head to toe and overwhelming every sense. He thrust one last time, filling her deeply, and shattering the last of her self-control. Just when she thought she would surely shatter, Jake stilled and rested himself on top of her. She could feel his heart hammering against his chest. Her senses were overloaded, her body now blissfully numb.
Chapter Ten
The breeze floated through the open sliding-glass door, jarring Jake back to reality. He felt like he’d just awoken from a coma.
All he knew for sure was he had just slept with Summer Riley.
“Your heart is racing,” she whispered, her breath tickling his chest.
“Is it?”
“Don’t you feel it?”
It was amazing he could feel anything. The last time he was this debilitated he was on his back in a burn unit.
She sat up, straddling him with her long spider legs. Like a kid in a candy store, he instinctively reached out to touch her when he saw her perfect pink nipples.
She smiled. “You’re the insatiable type, aren’t you?
“Would that bother you?”
She pushed his hand away, studying his chest as she ran her fingers over him. “I’ve never seen you without your shirt before. Nice six pack.”
“Thanks.” He barely heard her. Post coital small talk drove Jake crazy. To him it was just passing time between sex and more sex. In his experience, sleeping with a woman was much better when fewer words were exchanged.
“So why not?”
“So why not, what?”
“Why haven’t I seen you without your shirt?”
He thought about it a moment, wanting a good enough answer so she’d drop it. “I don’t know. The opportunity never arose.”
Even in the darkness he could tell she didn’t buy it. She looked at him then smiled, running her index finger along a thin white scar on his arm. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know. They’re only a big deal if you make them that way.”
The moonlight danced in her golden hair, the silken ends tickling his hardened nipples. Everything about her entranced him. Normally by this time he was thinking about round two or heading home. But not now. Not with her. He sucked in a breath as she studied his nakedness, feeling oddly nervous about what she’d see.
He tensed when her finger found the thick purple gash just below his collar bone. “What happened here?”
“I don’t know.” he shrugged. “Something cut me.”
“Like what? Glass?”
“Summer, I went through the wind shield. Glass, metal. It could have been anything.”
She gave him a pointed look. “Now who’s the one who could use a dose of self-confidence?”
The jab caught him right in the gut, presumably right where she intended. He remembered from his research that Summer Riley was a master at mental strategy on the court, outsmarting opponents with her quick thinking. It amused him to think she was applying her skills to him.
“How long did it take for your body to heal?”
He thought about it a moment, running his hands along her thighs. “A couple of years maybe. Skin graphs, surgeries. I don’t know. I don’t think about it much anymore.”
“I think you think about it all the time.”
She caught him again. This was exactly why he trafficked in casual sex. He was spared the pop psychology. Grabbing her hips he attempted to move her on to him, but she pushed him back down, and smiled. “Sex won’t make you feel better.”
“Want to bet?”
“What about this big patch along the bottom of your stomach?”
“Summer, don’t.” He pushed her hand away.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, it’s healed. I just don’t like you touching it.”
She replaced her hand where it had been, and smiled as if daring him to remove it. “Did you ever notice the flesh that makes up a scar is much tougher than the skin it replaced?”
He could tell by the twinkle in her eyes she had a deeper point. “Maybe.”
“Why aren’t you proud of them? If it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger, right? Besides weren’t you the one who just told me you can’t let something in your past dictate the rest of your life?”
Beautiful and smart. A killer combination. He reached out, sliding his hand between her legs but she shifted away from him.
“This is your number, isn’t it?”
He looked down at the faded green tattoo over his heart. The number thirty-seven with a white lighting bolt through the middle. �
�Yeah,” he replied. “I wanted to get it removed but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“Why would you do that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Seems kind of pointless now.”
“Because its part of who you are,” she said, as if it was obvious. “That’s like if I couldn’t play tennis anymore and I turned in all my victories.”
“Okay fine, so I’ll keep my number and you keep your trophies. Happy now?” He bit his lip, surprised by the anger in his voice. Lying back in the pillow, he rubbed his face with his hand.
“I don’t mean to upset you,” she said, still staring at his chest. “I just know that what happened hurt you, in more ways than what these scars reveal. You’re never going to get over it unless you deal with it head on.”
His eyes locked on hers.
Wasn’t that exactly what he was doing?
Softly she brought her lips to the deepest part of the scar on his lower chest. He closed his eyes, his body trembling when she ran her tongue along the groove.
“It feels good to feel, doesn’t it, Jake?”
He exhaled, as if expelling the smoke of a building fire. He held her closer when her mouth found the marred skin just above the hairline. “Don’t stop,” he heard himself whisper, his fingers now fisted around her blonde locks. No woman had ever captivated him the way Summer did. It went beyond desire. It was a craving. A need. As he held her, she seemed a universe away. He needed to be back inside of her.
“You tell me you want me to trust you, well it goes both ways. I won’t hold back if you won’t.”
Gently he pulled her back on him, his wide eyes staring deep into hers. This time he eased inside of her, like two parts of a whole. He moaned and then thrust with her, wanting to touch her as deep as he possibly could.
The smolder within him was now a full-on fire. He held her hips, moving slowly, aware of each sensation. For the first time ever, he was completely conscience of the act. Feeling every part of her, their bodies moving in synch.
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