by Christa Wick
We stumbled, Jake controlling the direction of our fall so that we collapsed on the bed. He straddled me, his strong hands wrapping around my upper arms to hold me down.
"My brother thinks love is the worst disease with which a man can ever be afflicted," he said. An old melancholy tinged his voice as he continued speaking. "That's my father doing. Whenever the old man felt himself getting to close to any single woman, he dumped her and moved on to the next wife or mistress."
Releasing me, Jake gently coaxed me up the bed then draped his body across mine, capturing my head again and gazing at me for a few seconds in silence.
"I was the luckiest of his children," he explained. "Dylan and Riona were cut off from their mothers, so no chance of any parental affection. They had nannies, of course, and boarding schools and more than enough money to drown in if they'd been weaker souls, but no love."
Breaking the promise I had made to myself only minutes before, I started crying.
"Shhh...love." His lips caught my tears, smeared them across my face as his mouth sought mine. "I told you he won't bother you again."
I tried nodding, but I wasn't sure what I was agreeing to. I believed he would keep Dylan away, but what he had just told me...
Not about his brother or sister, but what Dylan thought he saw between Jake and me.
"Baby, we're going to have to work on you remembering to breathe."
I closed my eyes, head bobbing against the pillow as I tried to bring my emotions under control. Jake hadn't said he loved me, he had only indicated Dylan was worried about the possibility. All the calling me "love" and "baby" didn't mean Jake had deep feelings for me.
But he cared enough not to let Dylan chase me away. Maybe that was only because of the club's needs; maybe it had everything to do with me. I wouldn't know, and I would always wonder, if I ran.
I'd be damned if a ran...not this time...
Rolling onto his side, Jake pulled me with him. The back of his fingers caressed my cheek, erasing the last of my tears.
"Do you need anything, baby?"
I shook my head. I needed him, and he was there with me. Nothing else mattered at the moment. I wasn't certain anything else would ever matter again.
"Good." Leaning in, he kissed me, his touch turning playful. Laughing, he grabbed the lapels of my robe and tugged me closer. "You look downright snuggable."
I giggled, the sound surprising me. It was the second time Jake had managed to tease the noise from me, and only the second time in the last decade I had allowed myself the freedom to do so.
"Totally snuggable," he said, his fingers maneuvering beneath the robe to knead my flesh.
I was just about to assist him in stripping the robe from me when his cell phone rang.
Jake nuzzled my throat, the rough growth since he'd shaved that morning tickling the sensitive skin.
"Marjolein's ringtone," he said, my flesh and the robe muffling his words as he buried his face against my breasts. "Whatever it is, it can wait."
Using the robe to trap my arms, he rolled me onto my back. A content smile pinned itself to my face as he refused to take the business call. A small victory, perhaps, but I would put it in the "win" column and be happy.
The cell stopped ringing.
The phone next to the bed started up half a minute later.
I smoothed the pout from my lips and nudged Jake with my chin. "I won't mind if you answer."
He released my nipple with a wet pop, a stubborn glint shining in his eyes.
"It could be an emergency," I continued. "If not, then I'll be able to claim your full attention in good conscience."
His mouth trailed down my body, his intended destination clear from the stroke of his fingers over my mound. He settled between my legs then looked up at me through the veil of his thick lashes.
"Baby, Mishka would be banging on the outer door or using his pass key if it was an emergency."
My gaze jumping to the bedroom door, I gathered the edges of my robe around me. Half growling, half laughing, Jake crawled up the bed and swiped the phone from the nightstand.
"Jo-jo, this is not a good time, and tell that brother of mine--" He paused, pulled his ear away from the phone and grimaced.
I couldn't make out the words, but I recognized the dangerously constrained tone of a furious woman.
"Now, don't make any--" he stopped talking almost as soon as he started, his expression changing once more. He listened for a few more seconds, then pulled the phone from his ear, shook his head and hung up.
"What's wrong?" Business or personal, I was an outsider, but I liked the plump, cheerful blonde more than I cared to admit.
"She's pissed at Dylan, maybe more pissed than I am," he chuckled.
"Clearly, your brother is on a roll tonight," I joked in return as Jake settled against me, his hands and mouth returning to the start of their downward journey.
"Did she say why?" I asked more out of self-interest than concern for Marjolein. The way my night was going, she might have been offended because Dylan had told her to start investigating my past. Even though I knew he wouldn't delay in carrying out his threat, I wanted another night with Jake before confronting the possibility.
"Didn't have a chance." Parting my thighs, he kissed one, then the other. "Dylan took the phone from her, told me to take care of my own woman and leave Jo-Jo to him."
His answer tweaked my interest in an entirely different direction! Had the elder Kehoe brother just staked a claim to his assistant?
"He said for you to leave Marjolein to him?" I prodded.
Resting his forehead against my mound, Jake sighed then looked up at me. "Seriously, love, you want to talk about my brother and Marjolein when I could be making your pussy wet?"
He paused for the space of a heartbeat, then winked. "I mean wetter..."
Jake was right. Even thought I was worried about Dylan's next step in trying to get me out of his baby brother's life, my body had already responded with a thick coating of cream from his sensual ministrations.
My cheeks flushing hot, I laughed. "Well, when you put it that way...I was just worried about her...she's been very kind and helpful to me."
"Mm..." His thumbs peeled my labia to the side and then he lowered his lips to suck at my clit. I squirmed, enjoying the sensation but unable to fully relax with Dylan's threats hanging over my head.
"Baby," he relented. "He pisses her off or hurts her feelings at least once a week. It's his special talent, but it will all be smoothed over before we head to Zurich at the end of the month."
"Zurich..." I repeated, a new worry forming in my head. In the week I'd had with the contract in my possession, I had intentionally ignored three words sprinkled among all the legal promises: and international locations.
I mean, what was the point in worrying about a passport for the foreign cities the club would be opening in when I had so many other reasons not to sign the agreement. Ignoring the words had led to forgetting them and the sudden panic chewing at my insides.
"Do I need a passport to go?" I asked, my body growing tenser by the second. Thankfully, Jake didn't seem to notice, or he thought I was still worried about Marjolein's fight with Dylan or my own unpleasant conversation with his brother.
Both were problems Jake thought he could lick and suck and kiss away. Trailing his tongue up my body, he pressed his chest against mine. He hadn't removed his clothes, but I could feel the hard length of his erection pressing against me as he answered my question between teasing bites along the sensitive skin of my neck.
"Marjolein will expedite the process. She's magic like that." His arms wedged beneath my back to hold me tight. "Not your kind of magic, baby, but magic all the same."
I had a feeling she'd have to be Houdini to get me my passport -- and keep me out of jail.
"I don't think I have a copy of my birth certificate." I kept my voice casual, but I wanted to puke. Dylan wouldn't have to lift a finger to discover my secret. He just had to wait
for me to file an application for my passport. Then he and Jake -- and the cops -- would discover that the name on my passport request, the same name with which I had signed the contract, wasn't mine.
It was a fake.
I was a fake.
Capturing my head between his hands, Jake softly growled. "Love, I just spent the last two hours trying to hide just how much I wanted to escape up to this room and fuck you into a puddle."
Nodding my understanding, I forced myself to look at him, to feel the hard press of his body against me, to smell his warm, male flesh and listen to the heavy thump of his heart. There in Miami, in the middle of the night and without any contacts, I couldn't resolve my problem. But I could enjoy Jake.
"Does that mean you are ready to relax and let Marjolein worry about the details?" He gave me a light bump with his very hard body. "Because I am more than ready to fuck you into that puddle."
Another nod signaled my acquiescence. Knowing this could be my last night with him, I turned soft and malleable, letting him strip the robe from me, his hands and mouth surfing the hills and valleys of my flesh with a gentle reverence before he removed his clothes and took me roughly, then gently, then finished with a fierce tenderness that left me breathless.
It would all be okay, I told myself, drifting to sleep at last in the circle of Jake's arms. Just like the special treatment the company received by having its own private airstrip and jet, I would get my passport. Marjolein would see to it, I repeated, unaware that, at the very hour I surrendered to sleep, the woman upon whose skills I had just gambled my future was stuffing her bags into the trunk of a rental car and quitting her job with the Kehoe brothers.
##########THE END##########
Sign up for the Wicked Reads newsletter by visiting christawick.com/wickedreads. It's the best way to find out about the next installment in Training Her Curves and discover new book boyfriends to devour!
Pesky Legal Junk
Copyright content © 2014 by Christa Wick
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. All persons and entities are fictional or fictitiously used. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the express written permission from the author/publisher.
Table of Contents
About Miami
Training Her Curves - Miami
Pesky Legal Junk