Rev It Up

by Julie Ann Walker

“He’d be a fool to stay here,” Vanessa murmured, looking around for somewhere to store the mammoth rubber cock and coming up empty. She satisfied herself with tucking it under the bed.

  Rock wasn’t going to complain.

  “It’s actually not such a bad idea,” he muttered, and both women swung around to face him. “If he wanted to keep an eye on the meeting place, there’s no better vantage point than this hotel.”

  “So are you going to go looking for him? Asking around?” Becky asked.

  “Oui. We’ll take turns watching the bar and nosing around the neighborhood. Vanessa,” he pointed at the woman as one corner of his mouth twitched, “will go downstairs and have a little tête à tête with Candy—she’s one of the lovely ladies you passed on the way in—and casually mention a client who fits Johnny’s description. See if it rings any of Candy’s bells.” He turned to Vanessa. “That is if you two can manage a civil conversation?”

  Vanessa groaned. “I make no promises.”

  Becky crossed her arms and pouted. With the mole and the beard and the teeth, the gesture looked ridiculous. “Man,” she grumped, “you guys get to have all the fun.”

  He waved an incredulous hand around to indicate their less-than-stellar accommodations. “Ya think this is fun?”

  “Well, it’s better than being stuck at the shop and—” she cut herself off as she narrowed her eyes and took a step toward him. A grin split her bewhiskered face, once more causing the hairs growing out of her fake mole to twang like mini antennae. “Yeah,” she said, nodding and looking back and forth between him and Vanessa. She reached up to wipe at his lips. Obviously, Vanessa hadn’t completely rid him of the evidence of their little elevator encounter. Zut! “I think you guys are going to have lots and lots of fun.”

  He and Vanessa simultaneously opened their mouths to explain, but she waved them off and started for the door. “If you two need anything else, give ol’ Duncan here,” she tapped the name embroidered over the right breast pocket of her uniform, “a call. Until then,” she opened the door and immediately dropped her voice so it resembled a man’s, “thanks for the tip.”

  After she’d gone, Vanessa plopped down on the bed and the mattress springs squeaked as if in agony. “Maybe we should talk about—”

  “Help me get this equipment set up,” he interrupted her, because, really, what was there to say?

  They were professionals on a stake-out.

  People were depending on them keeping their eyes and ears open. They couldn’t let the chemistry bubbling between them distract them from the mission.

  And since he couldn’t do anything about the boner in his pants, he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about it.

  Chapter Seven

  Michelle stared down at her sleeping son, snuggly warm in his little bed with his stuffed Elmo doll tucked up under his dimpled chin, and cursed her brother for putting her in this god-awful position.

  It was his fault she was here now, scared for her life and that of her son…scared of how she’d continue to evade Jake’s advances.

  Crap.

  She knew what she needed to do. She needed to go downstairs, walk into her bright, welcoming kitchen, and play the part of the good hostess. Give her guest the lowdown on the accommodations. All those little things, like where to find fresh towels and soap…

  But her kitchen didn’t seem very bright and welcoming right now, because it currently housed the one man on the entire planet she’d sworn to avoid like last week’s fish tacos. The one man who could—no, would break her heart again if she gave him the chance. The one man capable of crushing her hard-won resolve with only a kiss.

  Oh, that kiss…

  It made her remember too much and not enough all at the same time. It was terrible. And wonderful. And so, so dangerous…

  With dread weighing down her heart, she softly closed the door to her son’s room and made her way downstairs, through the living room, and into the kitchen.

  And then she momentarily forgot about everything, because there he was.

  The man who inspired all her hottest fantasies. The same one who embodied all her worst fears…

  “I checked the perimeter,” he said, not bothering to turn toward her as he worked at something on the far counter. “Everything looks good. That security system Boss installed for you is top notch. You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re completely safe here.”

  Yeah, right. Physically she might be safe, but emotionally? Now that was another matter entirely.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he finally turned away from the counter only to find her frowning at his back. His very broad, very strong, very drool-worthy back. Dangit, Michelle! You have too much sense for this! “I helped myself to some tea.” He held up two mugs, steaming and filling the air with rich aroma.

  “You’ll have to finish both,” she told him, refusing the mouthwatering temptation of a warm nightcap combined with a sexy man. Because, you know, there was an empty sofa in the next room…

  “Oh, come on, Shell,” he winked and lifted one of the mugs. “It’s your favorite. Chamomile.”

  She wished the fact that he remembered that didn’t affect her so.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I’m about two minutes away from needing a pair of toothpicks to prop open my eyelids.”

  Not really. She’d be hard-pressed to get any sleep tonight given everything that’d happened. Oh yeah, and then there was the fact that Jake was going to be sleeping three doors down from her. A measly twenty feet away. Sprawled all over her guest bed. Naked…

  At least that’s how she imagined it would be.

  God, help me!

  “Extra towels are in the hall closet along with extra soap. I put clean sheets on the guest bed.” The one you’ll be sprawled in. Naked. Frickin’ frackin’ fudge! “Feel free to scrounge anything from the fridge or pantry you want. Although, I see you’ve already done that, so just,” she made a rolling motion with her hand, “carry on.”

  There. Hostess duties complete. Now turn around, get your butt upstairs, and forget he’s in your house.

  Uh-huh. Right. Like that was possible. Still, the first step was to take the first step. Literally.

  “Goodnight, Jake,” she said, swinging back into the living room.

  “You head upstairs right now, and all you’ll do is toss and turn.” He set the mugs of tea on the kitchen table.

  Busted.

  Warily, she turned and watched as he lifted a brow at the roses. “Pretty flowers. Weird color though.”

  “Did you pick it?” she asked, trying and failing not to drool over the bunch and twist of his tanned muscles as he leaned over to smell the roses.

  “What?” He straightened.

  “The color of the roses?”

  “What are you talking about?” His brow furrowed.

  “Oh, uh, nothing. I just…I thought maybe they were from you.”

  He smiled, and the flash of his dimples had her heart pounding. “When I send you roses, doll, you’ll know they’re from me. They’ll be blood red, none of this blue shit, and they’ll come complete with a card that declares my undying love.”

  “Stop.” She raised a hand.

  “Shell—”

  “I’m tired, and I’m going to bed.” End of discussion.

  “There are still things we still need to talk about.”

  Oh Lord.

  He could not keep telling her he loved her.

  Not when she kept fanaticizing about him naked, not when his kiss had caused all those delicious, awful memories to rise too close to the surface, making her feel vulnerable and lost. And certainly not when the fear of what her brother had inadvertently involved her in made her long to seek the comfort of a strong set of arms.

  Because she just might convince herself to believe him. And if she convinced herself to believe him then—

  No. He doesn’t love me. It’s lust. It’s just unsatiated lust…

  “We said everything that n
eeded to be said,” she hastily informed him, taking a loose-kneed step back toward the living room, which was made all the more difficult considering each of her feet weighed about two-hundred pounds.

  And then his next words stopped her in her tracks.

  “I haven’t slept with another woman in over two years,” he said.

  Don’t do this to me…

  She hesitated, taking a deep breath before swinging around to face him. She shouldn’t ask, but she just couldn’t help herself, “Why is that?”

  “Because I got your letter.” Her heart began beating so fast she felt dizzy. “And it changed everything for me.”

  She resisted the urge to lift a hand to her spinning head. “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “I mean, I always figured you hated me. I figured you’d never be able to forgive me after the way I treated you, after the things I said, after what happened to Preacher. But then I got that letter from you, asking me to come here, telling me you, Boss, and Rock were waiting for me, worried for me, and for the first time I began to have hope.”

  “And your response to that hope was to completely ignore me?”

  “I wasn’t ready yet,” he admitted. “I needed to wait until I was sure of myself.”

  “What are you talking about?” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips.

  He smiled and took a step toward her, but at her hard look, he halted and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll explain everything to you. I promise, I will. But right now, the thing that’s most important, the thing I want you to realize, to understand, is that I haven’t slept with anyone in two years.”

  Suddenly, she was unaccountably tired, and the toothpick comment didn’t seem all that farfetched. “So what do you want from me, Jake?” she sighed, shaking her head. “A medal?”

  “No. No medals. I just told you so you’d know I’m nothing like your father.”

  Her cheeks stung with swift heat. “Now what is that supposed to mean?”

  “Boss explained what happened with your dad. He told me what a bastard the guy was and that you think I’m just like him. But I’m not, Shell. You can trust me. If you give me your heart, I promise I won’t shit all over it like your father did.”

  “Yeah,” she scoffed, amazed at both his audacity and his ability to not only lie to her, but also to himself. He was exactly like her father. He’d proven it time and again. “Because you were sooo careful with my heart the first time.”

  “So, you admit to giving me your heart? Earlier tonight you said you’d never loved me.”

  Crap, crap, crap!

  “Whatever,” she waved a hand through the air. Hoping, in the process, to wave away the point he’d made. “The fact of the matter is: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

  “But I didn’t fool you. There were circumstances you don’t—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she quickly interrupted, so tired of listening to lies, and worse, actually finding herself wanting to believe them.

  He opened his mouth to say something else when Franklin’s sleepy voice drifted down from the second floor, “Mama! I’m thirsty!”

  “I’ll be right up, sweetpea!” she called, beyond grateful for the excuse to quit the field as once again she turned toward the living room.

  “We’re not finished talking about this,” Jake grumbled at her back.

  “Yes, we are.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him take a determined step in her direction, and she swung around, startled.

  He moved with the easy beauty of the supremely fit. Not one ounce of wasted movement. And no matter how hard she tried to tell him she was serious, that she didn’t have anything else to say, she could only stare in horrified awe at the resolved glint in his eye.

  She finally managed to work her tongue loose. “Wh-what in the world are you—”

  He didn’t hesitate, didn’t telegraph his intentions. One second he was stalking toward her, the next second he had her face cupped between his strong hands and his warm lips settled over hers. The kiss was so tender, so deep, that it forced all the breath from her lungs.

  ***

  This is a mistake.

  He knew it like he knew his name was Jacob Michael Sommers. But he couldn’t help himself. She refused to listen to what he had to say, and the only other way he could think to convince her that she was wrong, that there was still something between them, something that could grow if only she’d let it, was to prove it to her physically.

  “I want you so much,” he breathed against her lips, reveling in their lushness, in the sweet taste of the wine that still lingered on her tongue from dinner. “And I know you want me, too.”

  He could feel it in the way she fought with herself, fought to keep from stepping toward him, fought to keep from fully tasting his tongue.

  She failed on all counts.

  “No,” she shook her head. But when he bent to kiss the side of her exposed neck, she melted instantly, her body language completely at odds with her next words. “I don’t want you.”

  He glanced at her face, gratified to discover she was lying through her teeth. Because there was no mistaking the hot desire shining in her gorgeous, gorgeous eyes.

  She licked her lips, her tongue a flash of delicious pink, and he could barely breathe, barely think. His brain cells were no longer receiving enough blood to fire his synapses. So he kissed her again, walking her backward until he pinned her against the wall.

  And he remembered this was how it’d been that night at the Clover. The two of them, against the wall of the men’s restroom, caught in a burning embrace that threatened to ignite into an inferno at any second.

  She’d been telling the truth about one thing tonight…

  Some things never changed. Because the passion that flowed between them was as volatile and explosive as ever.

  And though he knew he needed to talk to her before he took things any further, though he knew he should slow things down and make her listen to what he had to say, what he knew hadn’t quite caught up with what he wanted.

  Because what he wanted was her. All of her. All naked skin and slumberous eyes. Her body moving beneath him in that sliding, sensual way inherent in the female of the species. And he wanted it now. Right here in the middle of her kitchen.

  When she tentatively snaked an arm around his neck, pressing her luscious breasts against his chest, what few thoughts he’d been able to hold onto immediately flew from his head. All he could think was, Yo, this is Shell. Back in my arms. Finally.

  He wanted to yell with the joy of it…or cry. He wasn’t sure which. Maybe both.

  ***

  Michelle was having an out-of-body experience.

  That’s the only thing that could account for why her arms were around Jake’s neck, seemingly of their own accord, and why her tongue was eagerly tangling with his.

  But she’d always figured an out-of-body experience left you feeling numb and disconnected, which most certainly was not the case here. Huh-uh. In fact, she felt very connected.

  Every inch of her skin was on fire, her belly roiling, her scalp tingling.

  It was exactly as she remembered it. Everything about him, about the two of them together, was exactly as she remembered it, and her heart absolutely ached at the reminder of how it’d once been, how it might’ve still been if only—

  He shifted forward until they were groin to groin and—oh, mercy, mercy me. He was hot and hard and throbbing steadily, and she remembered that, too. She wanted nothing more than to—

  But she couldn’t. She could not allow herself to fall for him again. The consequences of that action had been heartbreaking the first time. She couldn’t bear to think what they’d be now. Of course, when he slid a hand up her side to gently brush the underside of her breast, her libido screamed at her to throw caution to the wind and just give in. Give in to the lust in his eyes and the pleasure in his touch…

  And it was tempting. Oh lordy, it was te
mpting. But she had other things to consider now besides her own desires.

  The little boy sleeping upstairs, for one.

  And right on cue Franklin called, “Mama! Where are you?”

  Pushing Jake away was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, even harder when she glanced up to see him raking in breaths like he’d just completed a hundred yard dash. Oh, man, his eyes…They were so green, so fierce and bright, and when he looked at her like that—

  “Shell, I—”

  “It’s over,” she interrupted and took another step away, scrubbing a shaky fist over her kiss-moistened lips. Her heart felt like she’d popped it in her pressure-cooker and set the temperature to high. “It’s been over for a very long time.”

  “It’s not,” he insisted, crossing his arms and grinding his jaw until his cheeks muscles twitched. “You kissed me back just now.”

  He wasn’t as big a man as her brother, not as thick or muscle-bound. He was elegantly built, with a quintessential surfer’s body. Still, at 6’4” he managed to stand nearly a head above her. The disparity in their heights, particularly when she wasn’t accustomed to having to look up at many men, drove home the main reason she couldn’t just save herself the headache and heartache and immediately insist he leave.

  Because there he stood. Tall, strong, steady. Ready and willing to lay his life on the line. And, dangit!, she needed the protection he offered. Her son needed his protection.

  “Mama!”

  “I’ll be right up!” she shouted, before turning back to Jake. “If it weren’t for my son, I’d throw you straight out the door for that stunt you just pulled.”

  “You did kiss me back. Try to deny it.”

  She couldn’t. “I kissed you back. And it was as big a mistake now as it was four years ago. I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same. We have an early morning tomorrow.”

  “Shell, I—”

  She turned then, waving off whatever else he might think to say as she calmly strode across the living room, careful not to trip over the toy car lying on its side on the rug. She forced herself not to take the stairs two at a time—though every instinct she had screamed at her to run, because she could feel his eyes burning into her, trying to see into her soul. But she carefully climbed each and every step, refusing to give him the satisfaction of watching her flee the scene.