by Anne Rainey
She should have walked out. Turn around and walk away, don’t let him suck you in. The inner voice was ignored. Instead, she stepped forward, barely grazing his hard body with the tips of her breasts. Even through the material of their shirts, Grace felt her nipples harden as if begging for more. Jackson tensed. His gaze narrowed. The atmosphere around them seemed to fairly spark.
Grace lifted on her toes and whispered, “Bring it on.”
Jackson licked his lips and cupped her chin in his palm. “You’re going to push me too far one of these days, little girl.”
Grace didn’t speak. She couldn’t if she’d wanted to. She just stood there, their bodies barely touching, Jackson staring at her gaping mouth. When he released her and stepped back, she nearly wilted. Had she wanted him to kiss her? Duh! Even the thought sent her temperature higher.
Three days. Three whole days of Jackson Hill in Sin City. Yep, it was official. She’d lost her mind.
***
Jackson watched Grace’s quiet exit, her cute ass capturing his attention. The black slacks she wore fit just right, displaying her ass like the work of art it was. He didn’t let himself smile until she’d pulled the door closed. He mentally started rearranging meetings. The convention was next week, and he had plenty to deal with between now and then. Thankfully he’d planned ahead and asked Candice to register him and Grace for the convention weeks ago. Candice had reserved two rooms and she’d also taken care of the flight details. The itinerary for the event sat on his desk for all to see. He’d been worried there for a minute, thinking Grace had spotted it. He’d covered it just in time.
Three days of Grace Vaughn. With any luck at all, they’d spend the entire time in bed, screw the convention. He imagined her naked, that sassy mouth wrapped around his cock as he licked her juicy pussy. Then Merrick’s words sprang to mind, and once more he saw a broken and bleeding Grace, barely clinging to life.
Why hadn’t she ever told him about it? Dumb question. They’d both been too busy verbally sparring, and Grace was particularly adept at keeping him at a distance. She guarded her emotions around him. He’d never been able to breech her defenses. A few times he’d come close, though. Once, when they’d gone to lunch together after Grace had lost a bet, he’d nearly gotten a kiss from her. He’d taken her to a Chinese restaurant and he’d actually managed to get her to relax, even laugh. She’d been a breath away from kissing him that day. He’d been so shocked she’d let her guard down, he’d ended up blowing it. She hadn’t let him take her to lunch again.
He’d been drawn to Grace since the day he’d accidently hit her in the face with a basketball. Her spunky attitude and quick wit had sucked him in. Each time they came into contact, she pushed him to the very limits of control without even trying. She could pull emotions out of him he hadn’t known he possessed. One minute she’d have him laughing over her particular brand of sarcasm, the next he was ready to take her to bed. Jackson couldn’t help but wonder if it was his age that caused her to hold back. Did the gap bother her? He couldn’t be sure, but he knew one thing for certain, Grace wasn’t at all superficial. There were depths to the woman that he desperately wanted to explore. He had a feeling it’d take a lifetime to learn all of her secrets.
While some women filled their lives with meaningless bullshit like manicured fingernails and expensive clothes, Grace concerned herself with work and family. She had an understated beauty and a straightforward attitude that he admired. She wore very little make-up and simple clothes. From what he could tell, she rarely dated, which pleased the hell out of him. When she’d gone out with Antonio, Jackson had wanted to pound the little weasel for encroaching on his territory, but reality had set in and he’d known the truth. He had no right to Grace. She could date whomever she wanted. He only hoped that soon that person would be him.
Chapter Three
Grace read the same sentence three times before she finally gave up and put the book down. Her heart just wasn’t in it. The only thing on her mind was how much trouble her big mouth had gotten her into this time. Las Vegas. Three days alone with Jackson. Could she be any denser? What had possessed her to agree? He’d challenged her, and she never could resist a challenge. He’d known exactly what she’d do when he’d called her chicken.
After she’d agreed to go to the convention, she’d gone back to her desk and finished out her day thinking of ways to wiggle out of the agreement. She’d come up with zero ideas, mostly because to back out would prove she couldn’t handle being alone with Jackson. He’d win. She was much too competitive to lose. That left her staring at her muted television at seven o’clock at night, when she should be enjoying her new haul of romance novels. She picked up the book she’d been dying to read and tried to push Jackson out of her head. She managed three pages before her doorbell rang. “A distraction, thank God.”
Grace stepped over the black heels she’d kicked off earlier, then rose on her toes to peek through the eyehole on her apartment door. Jackson? She flung the door wide and said, “What are you doing here?”
His lips quirked. “Nice to see you too, Gracie.”
“How did you know where I lived?” Grace made a point of not checking out his hot body, even though she desperately wanted to. If she looked at the black t-shirt that was sure to be stretched across a muscular chest and tight jeans cupping his package, she’d start stuttering or something.
He propped his hand on her doorjamb. “Uh, I’m your boss, remember?”
“Right, dumb question.”
“I don’t suppose you’re going to let me in,” he said as his gaze took in the living room behind her.
She sighed and stepped back. “Come in.”
“Thanks.” Jackson moved around her, their bodies touching as he passed. Every nerve ending went to code red status, as if to say Yippee! About damn time we got him alone.
“Nice digs you have here.”
Grace had taken great care in decorating her apartment, and it did her heart good to have Jackson’s genuine approval. She’d gone with an Oriental flare. Sleek, modern lines and smooth surfaces. She liked the fresh, clean feel.
“Very Zen-like.”
Grace looked around and realized he was right. The furniture had been expensive, but worth it.
Jackson walked over to her bookcase and picked out a paperback. “I like the bookcase. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a round bookcase before. Cool.”
He was looking at her romance books. She really hoped it wasn’t an erotic romance. “It’s teak. It was pricey, but I liked the design.” Please, please don’t be an erotic romance.
“How did you manage an entire living room suite on your pay?”
Her cheeks heated. “I’m sort of still paying it off. Credit card.”
“Ah,” he said as he sat on her hand-carved love seat.
“So, would you like something to drink?”
“Got a beer?”
“Yeah, but it’s light beer. Will that work?”
“Yep,” he said, then flipped the book open and started reading as if he’d been doing it for years. He looked entirely too at home in her apartment. Her gaze shot to his crotch and…damn. She shouldn’t have looked. She’d be drooling soon. Grace stalked out of the room. The sooner he drank his beer, the sooner he’d leave. She could get back to sulking in peace.
As she entered the kitchen, a horrible thought struck her. He was looking at her things. Touching her shelves. Probably reading something very steamy while she piddled around. The man was too curious for his own good. What had she been thinking when she let him in? She should have slammed the door in his face. She’d been too stunned, knocked off her guard. Jackson was entirely too adept at surprise attacks.
Then again, he’d sought her out. This went beyond text messaging or corralling her in the break room. Jackson was ten years older than her and most likely way more experienced with the opposite sex. What did he see in her? As she grabbed two beers from the refrigerator she thought of what all that exp
erience could mean for her if she did choose to sleep with him. She’d wanted to. Imagined it. It was obvious he wanted her just as much. Somehow she knew that if she ever let her guard down enough to sleep with Jackson, she’d quite possibly fall for the infernal man. She didn’t want to fall in love with him. She didn’t want to fall in love with any man, for that matter. Even though she knew she still had a lot to offer a man, the possibility that she may never be able to carry a baby to full-term left her feeling inadequate.
As Grace brought their ice cold beer into the living room, she stopped abruptly when she saw Jackson sitting on her couch, legs spread in front of him, reading. God, the man was hot. His long, muscular legs and flat abs made her wish she was bold enough to crawl up his body and plant one on him. As she moved closer and read the title of the book, her face burned with embarrassment. Jackson seemed to sense her arrival and looked at her over the top of the paperback.
He waved the book in the air and said, “Interesting reading material you have here, baby.”
Grace handed him a beer. He took it, and she gave in to the need to suck down several swallows before she sat in the chair adjacent to him. She held out her hand. “Give it to me.”
“Funny, that’s sort of what Libby said to Hunter. The exact phrase is, ‘Please, take me, Hunter.’” Jackson read, trying and failing to sound girly. “‘I need to feel you inside of me, my love.’”
“It’s a very romantic adventure.” Why did she care what he thought of her reading material? It was none of his business.
He grinned and waved the book back and forth. “It’s smut. Good smut, but smut all the same.”
“Hunter’s Pleasure is not smut. It’s a beautiful tale of love. A romantic take on historic battles and lost treasures. The struggle the hero and heroine face is an emotional rollercoaster ride. The author won an award.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you so embarrassed?”
“Laugh all you want, but I notice it’s grabbed your attention.”
Jackson glanced up, his eyes hot with unmistakable arousal. “Have you read the part where Hunter rips Libby’s gown off and takes her against a tree?”
Grace licked her lips and willed her voice to sound steady and calm. “It’s my book, of course I read it.”
Jackson stood, and Grace instinctively sank back into the chair. He wouldn’t let her retreat. Suddenly he was bent over her, cupping her chin in his palm. “I think I’d like to take you against a tree. Under the moonlight, in the same rough, untamed way Hunter takes Libby.”
“That’s bound to get us arrested.”
Without warning, he kissed her. His soft lips lingered a few seconds, drawing a moan from her, before he lifted and whispered, “Hmm, it’d be worth a night in jail.”
The doorbell rang. Saved! She sped to the door and slung it open, so glad for the reprieve she didn’t bother checking the peephole.
“Oh, my God! Jordan!” She flung herself into the man’s arms. He laughed and wrapped himself around her, holding her tightly.
“What the hell?”
Grace winced and pulled out of Jordan’s embrace. As she turned back around she noticed Jackson standing with his fists clenched at his sides. He was not a happy camper. Well, too bad. She could hug whomever she wanted. Grabbing Jordan by the hand, Grace pulled him inside her apartment and shut the door. “Jackson, this is my neighbor and very dear friend, Jordan Davies.”
Jackson moved up beside her, close. As if to show the other man she was taken? She wasn’t pleased by that notion and tried to discreetly step away, but he only followed her. Before they managed to turn it into a dance, Grace kept still and opted to get him back later for his arrogance.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jordan,” he said as he held out his hand. Jordan took it with a smile. “I was just making plans with Grace. She’s coming to Vegas with me for a few days.”
Okay, maybe she wouldn’t wait until later.
Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Damn, Grace, I didn’t even know you were dating anyone. You could have said something.”
“I’m not dating him. It’s a business thing, not pleasure.”
“We’ll see,” Jackson replied a good dose of humor lacing his words.
Grace elbowed him in the ribs, but the imbecile never even flinched. “Do you have to be so impossible?”
His knowing grin had the palm of her hand itching to smack him. “He called me a chicken,” she explained to Jordan.
Jordan crossed his arms over his chest and said, “And going to Vegas is going to prove you’re not?”
“It’s complicated,” she growled.
“Not really,” Jackson inserted. “In fact, I think it’s pretty simple.”
She stared daggers at him. Why couldn’t she have magical powers or something? She could zap him into a toad or something. Refusing to engage in yet more verbal warfare, she attempted to put the focus on Jordan instead. “So, out with it. How long before you’re deployed again?”
“I’ll be stateside for the next six months, then I’m back in Iraq.”
“Jordan is a hero,” Grace told Jackson.
Jordan flashed a sexy smile. “At least that’s what I tell the ladies.”
It was odd she’d never been attracted to Jordan. He really was handsome with his sandy-blond hair and dimples. And he had dreamy brown eyes. They were so dark you could barely make out the pupils. But in the two years she’d known him, Grace had never felt even the slightest bit turned-on by his flirtations. Jackson, on the other hand, had only to look at her to get her motor humming. Which was frustrating as hell, because she had the feeling Jordan would be way easier to handle.
She gave up thinking and headed for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “Your usual, Jordan?”
“Sounds great, hon,” he answered in his normal laid-back way.
“Do you want another, Jackson?” Grace asked as she opened the refrigerator and grabbed a cold beer for her neighbor.
“No, thanks.”
It wasn’t the words, but the tone that had her biting her lip. Jackson sounded angry. In all the time she’d spent with him, she’d never heard that tone from him before. What had set it off?
She popped the top off the beer and went back into the room. Jordan was on her couch, legs spread, smiling at her. Jackson still stood, arms crossed over his massive chest and staring at Jordan as if he’d like to take him apart. One painful inch at a time.
She handed Jordan his drink, and he winked at her. She peeked at Jackson and saw his eyes narrow. He was jealous. Oh, now this could be fun. He deserved a little payback for his earlier comments about her romance books.
Grace went straight to the couch and sat next to Jordan. Not touching, but close enough. “I’m so glad you’re back. I worry when you’re away.” Which was nothing but the truth. Being a U.S. Marine in this day and age wasn’t anything to play around with.
The hand that wasn’t holding the beer patted her thigh. “It’s cool. I know to keep my head down.”
Jackson came forward and sat on the other side of her, then slung an arm over her shoulders. Grace held back a grin and continued talking to Jordan.
“Of course you do. You’re a very skilled man,” she said.
Jordan cocked his head to the side and studied her a minute, then said, “Are you okay?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
Jordan shrugged and took a drink of his beer. “You look flushed, that’s all.”
Grace wanted to hide her head in the sand. Flushed, hell, she was damn near on fire with Jackson so close. She could smell that scent of his, and it drove her libido crazy. “I’m fine. I’m more interested in hearing about you.”
“I’m thinking of asking Lisa to marry me. Think she’ll say yes?”
Jordan and Lisa had been dating for two years, but the military life had taken its toll on their relationship. “I think she’d be crazy not to marry you.”
Jordan leaned forward and murmured, “I would ask you, but you’d probably just drop-kick me.”
She laughed, knowing he was full of it. “No, Lisa would drop-kick you.”
He gave a mock shudder. “You’re probably right. Lisa has a mean temper when she’s riled.”
“Oh, please, she’s as sweet as a lamb.”
He rolled his eyes. “You and Lisa both scare me.”
She reared back. “Me?”
“I’ve seen your temper, Grace. You’re not to be fooled with when you’re pissed.”
She smacked his chest. “Oh, yeah, I’m so scary to a big, strong Marine like yourself.”
Jordan laughed. “Good to see you’re still as mouthy as ever, hun.”
He took one last swig of his beer and set it on the coffee table, then stood. “Thanks for the beer.” He leaned down, presumably to peck her on the cheek, but Jackson was quicker.
“Don’t even think about it, Davies,” Jackson growled, his voice a cold bite of steel. “And you can quit with the hun shit too. She’s not your hun.”
“Damn it, Jackson,” she scolded. “Jordan is from the south. To him everyone is hun or darlin’. It’s like saying hello. He means nothing by it.”
Jordan, being the goof, held out his hand and in a too-chipper voice teased, “It’s been a very pleasant visit, Grace. Hope we can do this again sometime.”
She wanted to throttle them both. And just to get under Jackson’s skin, she ignored Jordan’s hand, rose to her feet and quickly kissed his cheek.
“Grace,” Jackson warned. He stood and towered over them both. “Paybacks are hell, baby.”
And why that gave her a delicious shiver, Grace had no clue.
Chapter Four