“God, you suck at pep talks and stuff, huh?” I ask, giggling a little when he cringes and tries to pull his neck away from my melting face.
Ha, sukkah!
“Yeah. My sister Kinsley once told me that if it were her choice, she’d rather have my jaw wired shut than take me to a funeral.”
“Okay, phew,” I mutter, rising with a breath before retaking my seat. “Let’s see. I mean nothing strikes me as odd…except I lost my Hussy!” I yell, my eyes tearing up again when I realize I forgot all about that ugly baby.
“Er…”
“My cat,” I clarify, biting into my lip.
“You named your cat Hussy?”
“She’s pretty loose. Anyway, she’s been gone the past few nights. I thought she’d just gone a wandering for some tail,” I snort, laughing at my own joke but sobering when all he does is stare at me, deadpan. “Ahem, she hasn’t been back—and that’s not like her. She likes food, the occasional belly rub if she’s clean, and drinking out of the tub.”
“Cat missing. Anything else?”
Well, I mean I do have one thing missing, one very noticeable thing that I haven’t been able to find for a week or two, no matter where I look. Not that there are many places I would have put it, if you get my drift…and just gross, okay? Who steals that sort of thing when it’s been used?
Stop laughing. I bet you have a vibrator, too.
No way will I admit to it though.
“Nope. Nothing. Not a thing,” I assure him, my face going dead slack as I lie to the man.
He studies me for long seconds and then smiles widely, his eyes gleaming. “Vibrator?”
“I prefer non-human lover of the silent variety?”
This time he laughs, letting me know he finds me as amusing as Lon and Rod do. Men. Hell.
Chapter Five
Lex
She’s gorgeous, like super-freaking gorgeous, and the way she keeps smiling even though it looks like she’s ready to start screaming and clawing at the walls makes me like her even more.
Bad. That’s bad because the last time I liked a Sparrow, I ended up getting fucked in more than one way. Hence, my no screw policy with the women I protect.
It’s a shame though, because I haven’t truly liked a woman in a long time, and this one is just…likable. And sexy with all that flaming red hair and eyes so deep a blue I almost couldn’t stop kissing her.
It’s the first time in a long time that my dick got hard for a woman against my will. Yeah, I know that sounds unbelievable, but the truth is that I’ve had a lot of sex, and lately it’s more by rote than actual desire. Unless you count that gymnast the other night, but come on, her toes could touch the back of her head. Let’s be real, that’s just not something a red-blooded male can pass up.
“So, uh, I kinda have some work to do—”
“Bullshit,” I cut in, smiling at her. “You’re just trying to get out of the room before you lose your shit and attack me. I see the way you’re staring at my lips, Sparrow. Want another kiss?” I taunt.
I’m being a total dick and I know it, but right now it’s that or run the risk of shoving more than my tongue in that gorgeous mouth. She blushes and seems to draw herself up some, her eyes narrowing and shooting sparks at me.
“Not nice. Not nice at all, seeing as you shoved your tongue in my mouth. And that was so not a gun you were grinding against my junk earlier.”
“You got me. In my defense, I was courting a hangover when Gino called me and not acting under the best judgement by the time I got here, only to see my Sparrow playing with her life.”
She gasps, scrunching her face and grinding her teeth at me, the sound sending shivers of discomfort down my spine.
“Did you just imply that I’m only doable when you’re too impaired to act rationally?”
Yes, but I do not mean a word of it, I think, as I take in the braless breasts straining against her tank top and the beaded buds of her nipples beneath. Shit, I need to get the hell away from this woman before I compromise my mission and just fall on her the way a hyena falls on a deserted carcass.
Yes, not exactly the most appealing comparison, but I want to devour her and take every part of her into me. For reasons that are making me sweat, I can’t seem to stop picturing what’s under her clothes, or wonder what it would be like to sink into the moist cavern between her thighs.
Dammit. This is not good. Not good at all. I want Rosetta Mayhew. Badly. And I know that I can’t afford to touch her because not only would it compromise my professional status, but it could also get her killed.
See, now I totally get why the other guys refused to take these kinds of jobs before they got married and gave their cocks to their wives. Distraction is the number one way to get yourself and the client killed.
I have a more-than-certain idea that if I let her, Sparrow would distract me to the point that perhaps the disconnect I feel between myself and the world would vanish.
I can’t allow that because, despite what other people may think, when I put on my dog-and-pony show, I rely on the muting of emotions I feel to get the job done.
Oh, once, a long time ago, I was a joker, the life of the party, the man whore everyone chuckled about but secretly envied. That guy died on the battlefield when I saw something that I can never forget.
It’s something that I’ve never told a soul, no matter how much it stains my own. I live with the constant knowledge that my friends would disown me if they ever found out that I’ve been lying to them for years.
And—
“Hey! I asked you a question, Jacobs! Did you just imply that the only way you could find me attractive and screwable is if you’re so hungover you can’t think clearly?” she spits out, dragging me back to the present with her furiously hissed question.
Be a dick, Lex. Be mean and nasty and make sure she understands that nothing will ever happen between us.
“Shit. That came out all wrong,” I say instead, shocking myself.
I’ve never had a problem shooting women down before. It’s part of that “I don’t really give a shit” problem I have.
Sparrow relaxes somewhat, and I see her eyeball me with an intensity that makes me want to squirm. And I would, if not for my training, and that irks the shit out of me.
“You know, I had this guy friend who used to reel women in by telling them that they could never satisfy him sexually. I thought it was the dumbest shit I ever heard until the night I was his wing-woman and saw him in action. Seriously, some chicks have more vagina than brains.”
“Is there a point to this drivel, Sparrow?”
“Yeah. Is that your thing, Jacobs? Do you treat women like shit to make them work harder to get you? Because if that’s the angle you’re playing here with me, I should tell you a few things. I’m lazy. I have no shame, and I never, ever respond well to insults. Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, it won’t make me not want to ride you like a cowgirl at the county fair. I’m an easy bet, basically. Either get off the urinal or—”
“Pot. It’s get off the fucking pot, woman! What is it with you and the confusing little adages already?”
I find the way she mixes everything up endearing as hell, as well as really annoying. I won’t tell her that though since—
Wait! Did she just say…?
“Did you just proposition me?”
“Yes. Sheesh, Jacobs, it’s not as if I’m going to lie about being attracted to you, and besides, I’m not really the cut-your-nose-off-to-spite-your-opponent type of girl. What good would it do me to deny wanting you and miss out on some great sex if you take me seriously?” she asks prosaically, moving into the kitchen to clean up lunch dishes and load the dishwasher.
I’m a little stunned. A lot stunned, as I follow her and lean against the counter, watching her every move. She doesn’t seem all that bothered by my staring. She just keeps cleaning, muttering under her breath the whole time as she goes.
“Most women would be offended and pr
etend not to want anything from me.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not most women. My nana used to say you can take the horse to the water but bathing a beast that big would just get you a hoof to the head. I never lie about what I want. It’s silly, and at the end of the day, it almost guarantees that I’ll miss out. Pride cometh before disappointment and all that,” she says seriously, making my jaw ache as I suppress the need to correct her again.
I don’t understand what the hell is happening here, and quite frankly, I don’t even want to know what this woman has floating around in her skull as she finishes up and leans against the opposite counter, just looking back at me.
“That doesn’t…”
“I’ll simplify things for you so you get me, okay? Once, when I was about five years old, I lost out on a ten spot from the tooth fairy because I didn’t want to burden Nana with giving me money she didn’t have. Yeah, I knew the fairy was bogus even then, so stop spluttering. The very next day, Nana came home with a bottle of her favorite wine and chocolate that I wasn’t allowed to eat. I started crying and told her that I’d lost out because I felt too ashamed to try for the tooth fairy money, thinking she was broke. She told me it was a lesson learned. You never win if you hold back, and shame is for the weak.”
Holy hell, what sort of old salty broad raised this woman? I wonder as she purses her lips and shrugs her shoulders, smiling a little at the memory.
“That taught me to never deny myself. Because Nana was right, I lost out due to preconceived notions and a shame that I shouldn’t have felt. I haven’t looked a gift horse in the eyes and dropped the hot potato ever since. If I want something, I go for it. If you really aren’t attracted to me, that’s cool, just don’t expect me to cower away and blush while lying about it because I won’t. By the way, your dick is eyeing me. Either take care of it, or let me go to my room to work.”
“I— Dammit, you’re just not my type,” I lie, my voice lowering to a growl as the lie passes my lips.
Lie! Liar. She’s more than our type, you fool. She’s…
Sexy and earthy and the lavender and honey I can smell coming off her skin is so enticing I want to strip her bare and lick every inch of her skin just to see if she tastes that good everywhere.
Sparrow stills and looks at me for long seconds before sighing loudly and nodding.
“That is totally fair, so I’ll back off and respect your limitations, though Lord knows how you can say that what with the way your dick is pointing at me. Whatever. I can deal. Just don’t get all Rambo, Kevin Costner on me if I go out trolling. A girl has needs.”
Needs? God, I want to fill those needs and create so many more the only man she’ll see will be—
Stop! Not happening, I think, forcing myself to remember Alisia and my one moment of weakness two years ago. I ended up in hot water, injured, and completely shamed after that bitch and the fiancé I never knew about were done with me.
I almost died for a woman who saw me only as a sex toy and nothing more, and then cast me aside for her mega-rich man. No, sex with a Sparrow isn’t in the cards for me ever again, no matter how much I want her. It’s too fast. Strange. Scary.
I hardly know her, and yet I like her. Want her.
Her talking about other men touching her though?
“If you have sexual needs, you rub one out and get over it. My job is to keep you safe, and I will do that at all costs, even if I have to tie you to the bed to do it.”
“Kinky,” she drawls, making my lips twitch again because, dammit, I was not expecting this at all.
She looks like any other woman who’d balk at talking about or wanting sex so freely. I just met her for God’s sake. And here I am now, trying to explain to my dick, and her, why some meaningless sex is off the table. Me, Lex Jacobs, the guy who screwed three women in one night as the fourth—that I never told anyone about—watched. It was her kink.
“Sparrow, be reasonable here. Please. I just got here. I have a lot of work to do, besides still working on another case that my guys have me on. Come on. Cut me some—”
“Flack. I get it. Okay. But remember, the offer stands. I like you, you’re hot, and we’re going to be seeing each other on a daily basis sooo….”
***
Rosetta
Did I just do that? Did I just tell a man that is way hotter than a movie star and built like he could hold me up with one pinkie that I’m open to some sex?
Well, yes, I think, smiling broadly, as I fall onto my bed and stare up at the ceiling, I really did. And I meant it, despite the fact that it’s the first time I have ever done it.
I’m not shy, you have to get that by now, knowing what I do for a living but come on, I bet Charlize wouldn’t just have thrown that out there that easily without even blushing. Well, not much anyway.
I feel…good. I’m thrilled with myself and disgustingly hopeful that I may at least get one night with him since the man’s eyes were trained on my boobs the whole time.
Thanks, nipples.
And I meant every word I said, too. I’m up for anything. I hate missed opportunities, and now that I’m somewhat accepting of this situation, I’m also not willing to just cower under a rock and not try for something I want.
Freaking stalker guy could get to me tomorrow and what will I have to say for myself? Oh, I didn’t make a play for the first guy I ever really wanted because it would have been embarrassing? Give me a break!
I shower in a locker room with other men, most of whom are gay, but still. Gareth isn’t, and he stares at my butt all the time. And I don’t care. Nana was right, shame is for the weak, or—at the very least—for people who don’t want to succeed.
Me, I prefer to achieve things and get the minimum of what I wanted instead of going home empty handed. Another smile has me chortling when I think about what he just told me before asking me to stay out of trouble for the next hour or two.
I officially have a roomie. Yes, I stopped arguing that since it seems a better idea that he be around me a lot if I want to get his fine butt into my bed.
I wonder what it would take to entice him make a play for me. Maybe some white t-shirt nipple show? Shorts?
“Sparrow! Carl is here. I have to go out to do something, so lay off the guy and be good!”
Where’s the fun in that then?
“Okay! Bring back pizza.”
I hear muttering and roll over onto my stomach to reach over for my phone when I hear something at the window and almost have a heart attack.
“It’s just me. Lock this window properly.”
Turning over, I meet his gaze and roll my eyes.
“Thanks for trying to scare the death of me.”
“Me to death! Scare me to death,” he growls. “God, you’re an English professor’s worst nightmare,” he mutters, shoving the window closed and glaring till I walk over and turn the latch, setting the lock into place.
I just smile and wave him off before diving for the bed and my phone.
“How did you get my number?”
My grin is huge, as I roll over onto my back and concentrate on the bubbles in my fish tank, where no fish currently survive.
“Gino. I told him either it was find your personal number, or I’d be calling him for advice. Come on, Seri, you know you like it more when you give me a reading as a friend rather than demanding those ridiculous rates.”
See, Seri is my favorite at this psychic hotline I call every week when I need a little pick-me-up. Her readings have come true three out of the twelve times we’ve spoken, and in my book, that’s a lot better than the zero I scored with the other frauds working at that place.
Plus, well, I like her. Anyone who tells you that you should focus on the future and not the past is my friend, and yes, I get that she says that as some sort of line to promote the hotline, but I like it. All the other women ever say is that nothing is certain.
What a crock. We all know that things are preordained, and if you look hard enough, you’ll get
a glimpse of the future.
“Argh! If my boss finds out about this, he’ll fire me. Stupid ol’ pig,” she huffs, making me giggle.
“Come on, Seri, just talk to me a little and give me something to work with here. I need advice and my only other friends are either all busy or too gay to understand me right now. Where you at anyway? Wanna come over for pizza and drinks?”
“No! Because we’re not friends, Rosie. God, woman, how many times do I have to say the same thing? You’re a customer, one I do not want to talk to in my free time.”
“Bull. You like me, I heard you mutter it under your breath the last time we spoke.”
“I was on my period; I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Hah! That’s hilarious because you probably already know that I’m going to say—”
“If now why even bother,” she finishes, her tone changing to one of reluctant amusement. “You have the weirdest little sayings, most of which don’t even make sense.”
“I know. I like the look on people’s faces when they try to decipher what I could have meant and come up with nothing. It’s funny. Anyhow, so how’s the psychic talent today? You feeling any vibrations or something?”
Another sigh and then I hear the rustling of bedclothes and the snick of a lighter before she inhales deeply and breathes out.
“You’re paying me for this.”
“Nope. We’re pals. You should want to give me a free reading at this point in my life just to help me.”
“Yeah? How’s that since we haven’t even met?”
“Simple, would you feel okay about not wanting to be my friend if something bad were to happen to me tomorrow and you never hear from me again?” I ask slowly.
“Nothing bad is going to happen to you tomorrow!”
“Really? Sweet. See, this whole free reading thing isn’t all bad, is it?”
I hear another rustle and some very off-color muttering before she comes back on the line.
“I just woke up and I need some coffee, so give me a little time to adjust. Good play, though, I respect a go-getter.”
Yeah, and that’s why we’re friends. We’re the same kind of people. Me, I respect a person who doesn’t just give up or stop wanting something because of the fear of failure. That’s why I didn’t even bat an eyelash when that idiot I was crushing on tried to get me fired so he could have my spot.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 64