by Desiree Holt
“Good.” He dipped his head once. “I want as much time to plan as I can get.”
Jasmine wrinkled her forehead. “Plan for what? I thought you were just supposed to be guarding me.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she wished them back. “Sorry. That was pretty dumb of me.”
“I’ll want to go over the details with you, also.” Caleb went on as if she hadn’t spoken, for which she was thankful.
“Whatever you need.” She kept alternating between resentment her life was being affected this way and gratitude she’d have someone covering her ass. And a generous sprinkling of resentment at Cobra for creating this situation.
“Good.”
“So, how about a celebration? Want to go into town for dinner?” She was always wound up tighter than a drum when she finished writing, excited about what she’d accomplished and itchy to get into the studio with them. Filled with excess energy, she needed to do something. She was on a high, and she wanted to take him with her.
“Town?”
She could see him rolling the question around in his brain.
“It’s just dinner, Caleb. What’s the big deal? Aren’t you ever happy about anything?”
What a stupid thing to say. From what Aron told her, he didn’t have a lot to be happy about right now. And he looked as if she’d slapped him.
“I’m sorry, Caleb. Sorry, sorry, sorry.” She twisted her hands together, a nervous habit she wished she could get rid of.
“It’s okay. Dinner’s fine.” He studied her. “Where do you want to go?”
“There’s a new place out on the interstate Libby says has great hamburgers. I think that’s what I’m in the mood for, if it works for you.”
“I like hamburgers. You want to get ready?”
“I just need my purse.” She looked down at herself, in her jeans and T-shirt and sandals. “Don’t I look presentable?”
“To me, you do. Every other woman I’ve ever met couldn’t leave the house without an hour’s notice.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Well, that’s not me, so you’ll just have to take me the way I am. Let’s go.” She reached for her keys on the counter.
Caleb’s hand closed over her wrist. “I’ll drive.”
Okay, then!
He drove what she would have expected, a big double-cab Ford F-150, in gunmetal grey. Very plain on the outside but tricked out on the inside.
“You spend a lot of time in your truck?”
He glanced sideways at her. “Something wrong with it?”
Was everything she said to this man wrong?
“No. Not a thing. Just making conversation.”
He didn’t answer, so she kept her mouth shut. But she was over-conscious of his nearness in the cab, of the masculine scent of his soap invading her senses. Of the heat emanating from his body and that scruff she wanted to just rub her fingers over. Conversation faded to nonexistent so, by the time they reached The Feedbag, she was on edge and not sure she felt like celebrating anymore. But damn, she wasn’t going to let him spoil this.
By the time they were seated in a booth, with thick juicy hamburgers and crisp french fries in front of them, her hunger dissipated any bad mood still clinging to her. She tilted her bottle of beer and touched it to Caleb’s.
“Here’s hoping these songs are as good as I think they are.”
“I think they might be better.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Were you listening to me? How…I mean, I had the door closed.” She wasn’t sure she liked anyone hearing her music in its raw stages.
“I have unusual hearing. I had to strain a little, but it was nice listening to you.”
“Careful, Caleb.” She giggled. “I think you just gave me a compliment.”
He almost got that closed-up look on his face again. Almost.
“I can say nice things when the moment arises.”
“Yes, you can.” In fact, his compliment made her feel positively giddy. “And thank you very much.” Then something he said clicked in her brain. “Have you been listening to my other music?”
He dropped his gaze to his plate. “I might have downloaded a track or two,” he mumbled.
“Why, Caleb Branam. Thank you so much. I’m flattered.”
“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head.” He bit into his hamburger, killing any further exchange of words.
Jasmine swallowed her smile and dug into her hamburger. By the time they finished eating and he’d had one beer to her two, she was a little mellow but still excited. She could feel it in her blood. These songs were good. Maybe the best she’d ever done. She couldn’t wait until they hit the studio tomorrow and she heard the guys play the tunes.
On the way home, she leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes, and hummed the tune she’d just finished that afternoon. She couldn’t wait to get into rehearsals tomorrow. She was so busy thinking about it all she didn’t realize they’d pulled into her driveway until the truck stopped.
“Oh!” She opened her eyes. “We’re here.”
“Yep. Have nice snooze?”
“I wasn’t sleeping,” she denied. “I was just imagining my music.”
“Okay. Let’s imagine it inside.”
In the house, she dropped her keys on the counter, put her purse next to them, and whirled around with her arms in the air. She was just so jazzed, just as she always was when she completed new songs. She wished she could soar through the air. She paid little attention to her actions until she lost her balance and stumbled into Caleb. He wrapped his arms around her to catch her, and every pulse point in her body began to thunder like a herd of elephants.
Jasmine wrapped her arms around his neck to balance herself and found herself staring into dark eyes that seemed to see right inside her. He cupped his palm to her head to hold it steady and pressed his mouth to hers. His lips were cool and firm, yet, at the contact, heat flooded her body. The tip of his tongue traced the closed seam of her mouth, and when he added pressure, she opened for him without thinking.
And practically detonated right there. His tongue scorched the inside of her mouth, coaxing her own tongue to dance with his. Everything faded away, leaving only the two of them and a kiss that trumped any she had ever had in her life. It went on and on, stealing her breath and making her nipples harden and her pussy tingle. She held on for dear life as the world spun around her.
Then, with the same suddenness, he broke the contact and lowered her to her feet. She stared at him through glazed eyes, trying to make her brain function again.
“What—”
“What is the right word.” He took two steps back, putting distance between them. “I’m sorry. That was a mistake”
Jasmine licked her lips, the taste of him still lingering there as she struggled to get her breathing under control. “It didn’t feel like a mistake to me.”
Shut up, Jasmine. You know it was a mistake. Wrong guy, wrong time.
“Trust me, it is.” He had rearranged his features into his perfected expressionless mask again.
“But—”
“Listen,” he interrupted. “There is no but. I haven’t kissed anyone in more than a year, and this is not the place to start.” He took another step backward. “This can’t happen. We have a business arrangement requiring my entire focus. And the last thing I need in my life is some kind of entanglement here.”
Caleb turned and walked down the short hallway leading to his bedroom. Jasmine stood there watching him, mouth open, pressing her fingertips to her lips. She could still feel the imprint of his mouth there, still inhale his familiar scent.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
But there were no words to wipe away the voracious need he had awakened in her. Nor were there words to tell her how to deal with it. On unsteady legs, she walked into her bedroom and closed the door. She leaned against it for a moment, still trying to get her breath.
Oh my god! Holy Hannah!
J
asmine had kissed a lot of men in her life, and the kisses ranged from disgusting to yes, I want more. But none of them had the volcanic impact of Caleb’s kiss. She’d felt it clear to her toes and every other part of her body.
It was more than a kiss.
As soon as the thought hit, she wanted it gone. Aron had made sure to warn her Caleb Branam was a psychological wreck who had sworn off women so she didn’t have to worry about any improper actions on his part. She was safe.
Safe?
Not with a man whose kiss could melt her like his. Or unexpectedly touch her heart. One kiss! But in the two weeks they’d been together in this house, she’d discovered a few things that surprised her. As reserved and withdrawn as he seemed, she actually liked Caleb. She was comfortable sitting with him, even if they never exchanged a word, a comfort she’d seldom found with anyone else. She found herself looking forward to their morning coffee and the meals they shared.
Maybe it was because her life was turned upside down, but she didn’t think so. She knew he blamed himself for the fiasco on his last assignment, but she was convinced whatever went wrong wasn’t his fault. She had the sense he covered all bases on everything he did. Sometimes things just got fucked up.
And he’d downloaded some of her music! How cool was that?
She regretted letting him pull away from her just now. She should have tugged him back and made him kiss her again and again until they couldn’t stop.
She stripped off her clothes and tossed them into the small chair in the corner. Then she slid between the sheets naked, hoping the cool feel of them would kill the heat in her body. No such luck. If anything, it caused crazy thoughts to race around in her brain. What would it be like if they took it past that kiss? What would Caleb look like naked? How would all that hard muscle feel against her body? How would it feel if his cock pressed deep inside her?
The thrumming in her sex intensified, and she slid her hand down over her stomach to her mound. She eased one finger between the puffy lips, imagining it was one of Caleb’s hard ones, and stroked herself. She was so very, very wet, so ready. She slipped a second finger in with the first and captured her clit between them. When she squeezed, high voltage shot through her and the walls of her channel pulsed and throbbed. She pinched her clit between her knuckles and lifted her other hand to cup a breast.
Bending her knees, she spread her legs and pressed her heels into the mattress. As she slid into her slick flesh again and again, grazing the tip of her clit then pinching it, she rubbed her nipple, both of them now hard and pebbled. She wanted Caleb’s mouth on them, sucking the hard tips of her breasts and grazing them with his teeth. She stroked and squeezed then rubbed, eyes closed as she pretended it was Caleb here in bed with her. Caleb doing these things to her. Caleb’s long fingers sliding inside her.
Caleb fucking her!
With his image fixed in her mind, she rode her fingers—Caleb’s fingers—until, at last, the release uncoiled from deep inside her, spiraled up and out, and release consumed her. She hitched her hips, pushing down hard on those long, masculine fingers and gripping them as her orgasm consumed her.
She lay there, her fingers—Caleb’s fingers—still inside her, as the shudders ebbed and slowed. Spent, she relaxed her legs and slipped her fingers from her body. She imagined Caleb smiling at her, desire still stamped on his features as he licked her juices from his fingers.
What would happen in the morning, in the light of day? Would he try to pretend it never happened? Want to talk about it? Maybe it was just a damn kiss, but it sure was potent. And she wasn’t letting him get away with ignoring it.
She rolled to her side, squeezing her thighs together, hard, as light aftershocks rippled through her pussy. With his naked body still front and center in her imagination, she fell asleep, lips curved in a smile.
*****
I’m a goddamned fool.
Caleb would have slammed his door except he didn’t want Jasmine to come running and ask what was wrong. How could he explain his off-the-charts desire for her? A desire that had taken every bit of his self control to sit on for the past two weeks. What caused such a strong pull between them? He hadn’t felt a damn thing for anyone for more than a year. He should have turned around and walked out that first day, but, instead, he’d stayed and punished himself by wanting her with every cell in his body. He wanted to plunge inside her while sucking on one of her nipples. Would the tip be rosy pink or a deeper color?
Asshole he was, he’d laid in this bed too many nights since he’d taken this gig and imagined her naked, her body next to him, warm and pliant and as hungry for him as he was for her. His senses swam with the scents of vanilla and roses, clinging to his clothes from when he’d held her body pressed against him during that impulsive kiss. He’d wanted to strip every piece of clothing from her and lick every inch of her, tasting all her secret places.
Jackass.
Yes, that’s what he was, but saying it didn’t help his feelings for her or erase her from his mind.
He’d known this was a mistake from the minute he’d let Aron talk him into it. He’d been wretchedly happy, or happily wretched, in his cabin in the middle of nowhere. He could spend every day reliving one of the worst events in his life and wallowing in misery. He still couldn’t remember how the hell he’d gotten roped into this. All he knew was, one minute, he was saying no, and, the next, he was putting the details of a meeting in his cell phone. A phone, by the way, he seldom used.
And then—then!—when he first laid eyes on her, he should have run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Her rich auburn hair, her forest-green eyes, her sweet body had all but bewitched him, and he hadn’t been able to get his ass out of the chair and run away.
Instead, idiot that he was, he’d agreed to take the job. He could spend his days quietly drooling over her, and when the job ended, he would carry the image back to his cabin and feast on it for days. Because there could never be anything more between them than a business arrangement. What would an up-and-coming star on the music scene, fresh and exciting, want from a man with a dark past and a ruined future? So, what was he supposed to do with this intense feeling he had for her, more than he’d ever had for any other woman in his life?
Fuck it all anyway.
He shucked his shirt and jeans, yanked the covers back, and slid into bed, hoping he could fall asleep, and, when he woke, all this would have disappeared from his mind. But the moment he closed his eyes, there she was, front and center in his brain. Hair falling in waves to her shoulders, bewitching green eyes staring at him from beneath lashes so thick they were almost sinful.
And oh god! She was naked. Fate tormented him with an image of Jasmine Grey in all her naked glory. Now he could see those rosy nipples, her luscious curves. And holy shit! The nest of curls covering her mound was the same rich auburn as the hair on her head.
His cock hardened to the point it strained against his boxer briefs. Gritting his teeth, he slid his hand down between the material and his body and wrapped his fingers around his pulsing shaft. When he slid his thumb over the tip, he felt a thick drop of fluid sitting right on the slit and rubbed it over the velvety skin.
The dream Jasmine—the one he wished was real—skimmed her hands over her naked body, cupping her breasts and running her fingers over the slight swell of her tummy to her pubic curls. When he saw two slim fingers disappear between her labia, he thought his heart would stop beating.
He stroked his hand up and down his dick, up and down, trying to match his movements to those of Jasmine. A little ottoman appeared from somewhere; she lifted her foot to brace on it, exposing her pussy. Her eyes were closed, her mouth curved in a smile as she thrust her fingers in and out of her hot channel. Caleb tried to match his rhythm to hers, clenching his teeth hard to keep himself from coming before she did.
It was damn hard, though, especially since he wanted her to walk out of his imagination and into his room so he could touch her, feel her, slide
his fingers into her wetness.
Feel her pussy grasp his cock!
He increased the pace of his hand, easing the other one between his thighs to cup his balls. He saw the rapid rise and fall of Jasmine’s breasts and the look of intense pleasure on her face. And then…. Then she gave one last push, and he watched her entire body clench and shudder.
Now! His cock shrieked. One more stroke. Two. Semen shot over the head of his dick and down his fingers in thick rivulets. He squeezed, milking the last drop, then let his body relax, his breath still raspy, his heartbeat still erratic. He took in a deep breath and held it then let it out. His imaginary Jasmine did the same then gave him a knowing, satisfied smile.
And then disappeared.
Fuck!
Getting himself off in his shower so he didn’t walk around with a painful dick all the time was one thing. But this…tonight…. Holy shit!
He needed to clean himself up, but he sure couldn’t walk across the hall to the bathroom bareass. He used his boxer briefs to clean up the worst of it then threw them in the pocket of his duffel where he collected his dirty clothes. Fishing a clean pair out of the bag, he pulled them on and headed across the hall to the bathroom to finish the job.
Closing the door, he flicked on the light and stared at himself in the mirror. It amazed him he looked the same since he felt very different on the inside. Not just the release he’d given himself. A hand job was a hand job. It was much worse than that. He was fucking falling in love with Jasmine Grey. He, Caleb Branam, a ruined man who’d grown to hate the world, who carried death with him, was falling in love with the very last woman he should.
What the fuck did he do now?
Chapter Five
Caleb waited in the great room, hands in his pockets, staring out the window.
He’s mad about the kiss. He blames me. No, he blames himself.
She wanted to bang her head against the wall. Instead, she gathered up all the materials she’d need along with her precious McPherson guitar and her large tote purse then pasted a smile on her face.