by Nikky Kaye
I tilted my head. “You don’t have house guests?”
Jake’s condo was smaller than his brother’s, but I was willing to bet that his en suite bath was still bigger than my whole studio apartment. The minimalist design made it seem even bigger—all straight lines and unforgiving surfaces.
“Not ones that stay in the guest bedroom.” His grin showed all his straight, white teeth.
I held up a hand. “Sorry I asked.” I really, really was. Jake was a bit of a player—I’d guessed that much. But it was kind of tacky of him to remind me of that after fingering me into a rocketing orgasm. “Your business is your business.”
“I mean that Stella has her own room.”
“Oh.” There was an awkward pause between us. “Can I see it?”
“Her room?”
I nodded. It was stupid of me to ask, but I kind of wanted to see it. How would a single man like Jake—a cocky, wealthy, ex-military man—decorate his toddler daughter’s bedroom?
He led me down the hall and opened a door. I looked at his face, wondering if I was being too intrusive, but he didn’t seem fazed at all.
I peeked inside. Smiled.
Stella had a princess bed. Not the floofy pink kind but an old-fashioned kind with heavy embroidered curtains around it. It was the kind of bed you saw in old castles, where you’d be surprised at how small it was. It was the perfect size for a three year-old, though. But something was off…
“No little stairs?”
“I don’t want her falling in the middle of the night if she gets out,” he explained. He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. “We’re working on potty training.”
That was definitely a sentence I never expected to hear coming out of Jake Stone’s mouth. Judging by the way his ears were turning pink, it was a surprise to him as well.
“That’s some pick-up line.”
He laughed. “Hey, sometimes dirty talk literally is dirty talk.”
“Aw, can’t wait to be done with the diapers, huh?” My gaze swept around the room, taking in a dollhouse, bookshelf, and a neat stack of paper and crayons on a fun-sized table and chair set.
It was too tidy.
“How often is she here?” I asked quietly.
“Not often enough.” His voice was tight. He stepped back into the hallway. The tour was over. So was the joking mood.
Damn. As attractive as the intense, provocative Jake was, I liked the devil-may-care part of him more. Right now, he could use more caring than from just the devil. Loneliness shrouded him when he wasn’t kidding around.
As we walked to the open-plan kitchen and living room, I poked his arm. “Admit it. You know all the lines in Frozen, don’t you?”
The tension in his jaw eased up a bit, but not enough.
Hmmm. “Who do you think is hotter? Elsa or Anna?”
Silently, he opened the fridge. “Beer or wine?” was all he said.
“Wine, if you have a bottle open.”
He nodded. The broad muscles of his back shifted tantalizingly under his t-shirt as he reached for some glasses. As he was getting them down from the cabinet, his gaze shifted to a framed picture of Stella on the counter by his phone charger.
His shoulders slumped.
This was going to take some industrial-scale making a fool out of myself. I took a deep breath then began to sing—badly.
“The snow glows bright on the mountaintop—”
“Tonight,” he interrupted, turning back to me to place the glasses on the island between us.
“What?”
“The snow glows white on the mountain tonight,” he said. He looked at Stella’s picture again, like a reflex.
Okaaaay. It was worth trying again. “Let it go, let it go…” Shit. I was flat.
He cocked his head, his lip twitching. “Can’t hold it back anymore...”
Fresh arousal snaked up my spine. Somehow he made the Disney musical sound like dark, dirty, sexy rock and roll.
“Let it go, let it go,” I warbled as he poured two glasses of white wine. Those were the only words I really knew.
The lines on Jake’s face relaxed as stared into my eyes. He paused, searching me for… something, then sang to me in a low, husky voice.
“Don’t let them in, don’t let them see. Be the good girl you always have to be… Conceal, don’t feel; don’t let them know. Well now they know…” he trailed off, as though prompting me to repeat the chorus.
I couldn’t. The lyrics stabbed me in the chest right where my heart was supposed to be. They were too true, too close to home.
Struck dumb, I wrapped my fingers around my glass then whirled around to stumble toward the couch. Took a long drink.
Then another.
On the floor by a huge television, I spied the disc case for the movie. Either he had a lazy housekeeper, or he’d been watching it by himself.
Jake Stone was a lot more complicated than I thought he was. And my life was already complicated enough.
My brain knew this.
My body was clueless. It wanted him, more and more every time I saw him.
But my heart was getting stuck between the rock and hard place.
Chapter Six
Annie
I couldn’t move. I fought the rising panic and tried to regulate my breathing, but I still. Could. Not. Move.
“Good, you’re awake.”
The voice was rough and masculine, but without the ability to even turn my head, I couldn’t place it.
Breathe. My chest hurt, like something heavy was on it. When I looked down, I was horrified to see that I was wearing the outfit that had arrived on my doorstep—well, half of it, anyhow. The matching bra and panties didn’t quite fit; the cups were too big and the waistband tight. With nothing else on, I lay shivering on the… bed? Couch? Where the hell was I?
Frozen. I was frozen. I tried to scream, but couldn’t even part my lips.
“I’d offer you a blanket,” the voice said. “But I like seeing your nipples stick out like that.”
The flush of embarrassment drove away some of my frigid fear, but not much. I flinched as, from behind me, he viciously pinched the headlights I still sported. The sudden jerk of my chin and elbows was a relief, though. I was regaining some control over my body!
“But I suppose,” he said with regret, “that won’t do for the pictures.”
In what seemed like a flash, the gown was on me. Long, white satin, it resembled a negligee more than a dress. My shoulders were bare, but the silky material brushed against my ankles.
Then I felt the weight on my chest increase, and my whole body felt like it was caving in on itself. I couldn’t stop my eyelids from drooping, and in my mind I was clenching my hands into fists. Then, darkness—like he’d snuffed out a candle inside me.
When I woke again, I was sitting in a big armchair, my hands neatly folded in my lap. They looked strange. When had I gotten a manicure?
“You look beautiful.” The voice came from behind me. “It turned out exquisitely. Don’t you think?”
A picture landed on my lap, in a heavy silver frame. My gaze slid up the image from the bottom, as I recognized the gown I was wearing.
But it wasn’t me. It was a wedding picture of Evie and Dominic. What? I didn’t understand.
“Annie!”
At first I felt paralyzed again, then my whole body tensed. My hands flew out to brace me against the bed, as though as I had just fallen backwards.
The bed? Wasn’t I in a chair?
I jackknifed up, nearly head-butting Jake.
“Whoa!”
Looking down, I saw the tank top and underwear I went to sleep in. After the tour. After the impromptu concert. After the wine. After…
Jake gripped my hand where it clawed against the mattress. “Bad dream?”
I looked at him, still trying to focus. Nodded. My ribs ached.
“Breathe, honey,” he instructed.
Oh. I was dreaming. I’d been dreaming that I was
Evie? Or was it me? And who was the faceless man? My secret admirer?
“You’re cold,” Jake said.
I looked down to my nipples poking out from my tank, reminding me of the dream. Broken flashes skipped through my mind, like a strobe light.
The weight of Jake’s thigh, where he sat on the edge of the bed beside me, grounded me. Warmed me.
It wasn’t warm enough.
He grunted as I launched myself at him. He was big, hard, and hot, and enclosed me in the circle of his arms.
“Hey, hey.” One of his hands stroked up and down my spine, the other keeping a similar rhythm on my upper arm. This was the father in him coming out, the protector and soother. Lucky Stella. “Must have been some fucking dream,” he said.
Presumably that wasn’t what he would say to comfort Stella.
He was too much taller for me to dig my chin into his shoulder, so I turned my face into his chest—his bare chest.
“Shit, even your nose is cold!” He chuckled and held me tighter. My nose flattened against his pectoral muscle, my short, hot breaths trapped by the curve of my upper lip.
He smelled… warm. Like hot, sugary tea. Despite only wearing some skintight boxer briefs, he radiated heat like a furnace.
Wait, boxer briefs? “I woke you.”
My head joggled along with his shrug. “I wasn’t sleeping much anyhow.”
“Evie—” I mumbled.
“Yeah, I’d have nightmares after seeing that, too.”
I shook my head slightly, not knowing how to explain. The tip of my nose was warming up, but his back arched a little as my lips brushed against him.
Huh.
Curious, I pursed my lips together again and pressed them to his chest just above his nipple. It stiffened.
Now the muscles of his six-pack flexed as well, as I dragged my hands over his abdomen.
“Annie, what are you doing?” There was a warning in his voice.
I tilted my head back to look at him. “Is it ever hard for you, to see your brother and Evie like that?”
His expression hardened, at least. “Like what?”
“Together.” I searched for the right word. “Happy.”
“Fucking like bunnies?”
My cheeks heated. “No, more like… they have each other. That kind of intimacy with someone.”
Jake disentangled himself and stood up from the edge of the bed. Looked down at me. “Annie, I can fuck someone anytime I want.”
“That’s not what I mean.” I felt the cold return as he moved away. Pushing down the covers, I got on my knees on the bed and crawled closer to him. “Don’t you ever get lonely?”
“Lonely,” he echoed.
I couldn’t quite see his eyes; he was in silhouette from the light in the hallway outside the bedroom. He folded his arms over his chest, like he was ready for a fight. His chin bobbed up and down as his gaze slid over me.
My tank top and panties were not the kind of armor I was used to doing battle in. And I was acutely aware that he was in his underwear too.
Now that he was standing up and a little above me, the bulge in his briefs was conspicuous. Completely casual about it, he didn’t say anything as his cock hardened and grew.
Like a primal, instinctive reaction, my belly squirmed and I felt myself dampen and loosen with arousal.
“I’m lonely,” I confessed.
God, it was hard to say that. But it was so goddamn true. Saying it out loud made me feel lonelier, if that was possible. I sighed, dropping back down to sit on my heels, my hands on my thighs. Nothing had changed by admitting it, other than feeling worse and making a fool out of myself—again.
“Fuck, Annie.” Jake dropped his arms, his hands curling into fists at his side. His head lolled back and he sighed heavily.
Yeah, fuck Annie.
“You’re killing me, here.” He stepped toward the bed. “You know it’s not a good idea.”
“Why not? Is it because of Evie?”
He frowned. “What about Evie?”
“Are you still in love with her?”
His mouth opened, then closed. “What the fuck are you talking about? I was never in love with her.”
Well, that didn’t make me feel any better.
His frown deepened. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it was a… thing. We needed and wanted each other—at that time. That brief, fucking time. We were—are—adults.”
“So am I. An adult, I mean. Unless you’re not attracted to me…” I only felt comfortable saying that, because I knew it wasn’t true.
Even if it weren’t for the giant erection bobbing in front of my face, Jake was still a man. As a general rule, men didn’t usually turn down women falling at their feet.
Then again, Jake was exceptional.
He rubbed his hands over the short hair on his head. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, and you’re making it really hard.”
I crawled over to him, my gaze fixed on his erection. “What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?”
It startled me when he cupped my chin. “Annie, I’m not a relationship kind of guy.”
I recoiled. “Did I ask for a ring? It could just be… I don’t know, a pity fuck.”
Sayonara, self-esteem. It was nice knowing you. I couldn’t believe that I was trying to convince him. I had a stalker, for God’s sakes! I wasn’t unappealing, or desperate. I was just very, very turned on.
Jake put his knee on the bed and dropped down over me. I reared back, falling on my ass and bracing myself on my elbows underneath him.
“You are not a pity fuck.” His eyes—his whole body—blazed, but he didn’t touch me. “You deserve to be worshipped. You should have every inch of your body sucked on like a candy cane. But I’m not the guy to do it.”
I spread my legs to cradle him as he hovered over me then craned my neck up to kiss the bristle of beard under his jaw.
“Annie…” His muscles tensed under my mouth as our bodies made contact.
“I think.” I tasted my way down his neck. “You are.” Nipped at his throbbing carotid artery. “The perfect person to do it.”
His plank position sagged, until his hard, hot cock pressed against the damp crotch of my panties. We both groaned.
“Jesus,” he breathed, dropping his face into the curve between my neck and shoulder. “I was wrong. You are a ninja.”
“Show me,” I whispered into his ear. “Show me how I should be fucked, because your fingers weren’t enough. I need you to fill me, Jake.” Until there was no room in my head for fear or anxiety or self-doubt. Until I felt truly safe.
There was something irresistible about knowing I could give up control with him. I wouldn’t have to be strong all the time; he could hold me up and take care of me. I’d never had that, and the thought was intoxicating.
His lips found my earlobe, sending ticklish sparks down my neck. Slowly he began rocking against me, every nudge making me wet with wanting him.
“I am not in love with Evie,” he said firmly.
I nodded. “I believe you.” Now.
“I don’t fall in love.”
Something squeezed inside me. “I believe you. Neither do I.” Never had, never would. I just wanted… comfort, connection, and to come with another person—for once.
Tingling sensations spread over my skin with every brush of his chest against mine. I tucked my feet around him, luxuriating in the crispness of the hair on his legs against my inner thighs.
He rose up, his heavy-lidded gaze searching mine. “This would just be us fucking, not falling in love.”
“Fine.”
“I won’t be gentle.” When I stilled, he clarified, “I won’t treat you like glass. You’re the one who attacked me in the dark, remember? You can take it.”
“Got it.” I nodded again. “Must fuck back.” I wriggled against him, trying to get him to rub right there.
Jake’s grin transformed his face. “Okay, then, Annie.”
I barel
y had time to inhale before he captured my mouth in a devastatingly generous kiss. He took my breath, and in return gave me the strength to beg for more.
“Soon,” he promised when I whimpered. After another sweep of his lips against mine, he rose up on his knees and shoved down the waistband of his briefs. He curled his fingers in the damp crotch of my panties, pulling them to the side.
Was he going to enter me… right now?
“Foreplay?” I panted.
“What the hell do you think we’ve been doing?” he asked me, dipping his first two fingers into my core.
“Ungh!” I arched my back. “I said your fingers weren’t enough!”
“Oh, we’re just getting started.” With a smirk, he twisted his hands on either side of the seam of my underwear and ripped.
My mouth fell open. “I could have just taken them off, you know.”
“Waste of time.” He scooted back a few inches and dropped his chest to the bed between my legs.
I liked those panties. Damn. “Maybe those had sentimental value.” I pouted.
“Seriously?” He snorted. “They’re disposable.”
“My underwear?” Where the hell did he think I shopped?
“Sentimental values. Besides, I think that turned you on,” he guessed, his eyebrow lifting.
It sure did. The sight of his head between my legs made me breathless.
I moaned when he slid his thumb into me. I writhed when he tried to see how many fingers he could fit in me at once. His left hand splayed over my belly, while his right hand spread me open to expose my clit. And I almost began to sob when he finally took me in his mouth.
“Oh fuck! Jake!”
His tongue slid over me, lapping and curling and tracing at the tip. He may not have treated me like glass, but he fulfilled his promise to suck me like a piece of candy.
“When was the last time someone ate you out, Annie?”
I tossed my head from side to side on the bed, not knowing. Not caring.
“Answer me,” he demanded, lashing at a particularly sensitive spot.
Looking down at him and past the jiggling of my breasts, I was honest. “Never? Definitely not like this.” He was making me forget my own name, much less any past, polite, pathetic encounters.