by Cindy Crane
But, the best bit of all, was that she now knew where to find Jake. That had proved to be the best hangover cure of all. After her moment of misery in the shower, when her eyes fell on his business card, she almost cried.
He did want to see her again.
“Hi. You found my card, then?”
Silly question—of course she had. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here.
Jake clambered to his feet. Sam watched them with interest, his open expression begging Jake for an introduction. She was a serious bit of skirt. Jake obliged, but his eyes never left Frankie’s delightful face.
“Sam, this is Frankie. She’s an old friend. We bumped into each other at that reunion last night.”
A knowing smile played across Sam’s mouth. The vibes bouncing off the pair of them hinted at more than just old friends. He could feel the heat from where he stood.
Lucky bugger.
“I’ll not offer to shake your hand, but hello, Frankie.” He spread his hands to reveal greasy palms.
Frankie backed off with a laugh. “Hello’s just fine.”
Jake was desperate to fold her into his arms. But with his hands in a similar state, he had to make do with indicating a grey primed door in the far wall instead, and saying,
“Come through to the office.” Then, grabbing an oily cloth, he wiped his greasy paws.
He needed time alone with her, away from Sam’s prying eyes and especially from that ‘No-wonder-you-look-so-tired-this-morning’ look—followed by an even less desirable ‘I-wish-I’d-got-half-a-chance’ gaze plastered all over his face.
Well sorry, Sam, you’ve no chance.
But more so, he wanted her away from any other eyes that might just take the opportunity to pass by. Because if there was one positive outcome from his sleepless night, he was going to work things out with her—D. S. Turner or no D.S. Turner; or more to the point—no Chief Superintendent Richardson. He just needed to decide how; and how he was going to put things right between them. But in the meantime there was no point in broadcasting it. There was still too much evidence resting in their hands.
The fluorescent light flickered on, casting an eerie light in the windowless room, the low buzz humming in the silence as the strip bulb gathered strength. Frankie cast an interested eye round the room: a desk piled high with paperwork; a tall, grey, metal cabinet against one wall, drawers half-opened; a sink with kettle and pot mugs in the corner. It was a room bearing testament to men who might know the practicalities of their job but treated paperwork with chaotic disregard. It was in definite need of a serious tidy. And a secretary wouldn’t come amiss either.
Jake grinned at her inspection. “We don’t spend much time in here, except for paperwork.”
She shot him a lopsided grin in reply and nodded at the untidy desk. “You could have fooled me.” Then she took a purposeful step towards him; her tongue flicking just once across her lips, making them shiny.
“Still, at least it’s private.” She raised her face to his. Her wet lips were still parted slightly; moist and inviting, desperate kiss him. All her earlier fears were fading by the second, just as they had been when she’d succumbed to the condom machine last night. If there was one thing Jake was good at, it was bringing the slut out in her. And right now she was ready to slum it with him anywhere, in whatever condition.
Encouraged by his card, she’d taken mere seconds to decide to come here. She’d needed to confront him about last night and ask him what he’d done while she’d lain in a drunken stupor. But one look at his sexy body and wide smile, stripped her of all resolve, surprised to find she didn’t really care. She was just disappointed she couldn’t remember a thing about it, merely hoping she’d enjoyed it at the time.
Jake stepped back just before she made contact, raising his palms to reveal their grime. “Don’t,” he said. “I’m filthy.”
“Mmm,” she half-smiled, a sultry, sexy smile, as her gaze raked his body, up and down, overalls and all. “I like filthy.”
He groaned, tempted to close the gap between them and pounce on that juicy, luscious mouth. But she stepped tantalisingly back, just out of reach, saying,
“But I take your point. You were always the gentleman.” It was that that made him stand out from the crowd, even all those years ago. “But were you last night?” And narrowing her eyes, she pursed her lips. Despite her rampaging hormones, it was still troubling her. Twelve years was a long time. And people changed. After all, even back then, she’d trusted him completely, and he’d let her down—badly.
He gave an amused, contrite look and confessed, “I nearly wasn’t.” Then he turned to the sink, scrubbing at his greasy hands. But his head was still tilted back, looking at her over one shoulder and teasing her, his eyes smouldering, searing her with their heat. “That was some sexy little show you put on.”
So her memory hadn’t been playing tricks, and she couldn’t control the flush that crept to her cheeks as her pulse quickened.
“Did we have sex?” she blurted out. Then she tilted her head in defiance, suddenly ashamed of the way she’d behaved. Not because she hadn’t thought about sex with Jake—she had—but because she was so drunk she couldn’t recall agreeing to a thing. And he might have taken advantage of her condition.
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have dreamed of it. Making love to an unconscious female isn’t exactly my idea of fun.” That cute little dimple was playing at the corner of his mouth.
“But you must have finished undressing me and put me to bed.”
The dimple got deeper. “Okay, guilty on that score. But I did cover you first. I wanted to make you comfortable.”
“And you still managed not to have sex with me?” It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him. But she wasn’t sure she could have been so self-controlled if the situation had been reversed.
“Definitely not guilty,” he assured her. “And there’s still an unopened packet of condoms in my wallet if you want proof.” He was drying his hands now.
“So it had been on your mind, then?” She couldn’t help it. Her lips curled upwards, almost admiring his arrogance that, after a twelve-year silence, he’d assumed she’d be so pleased to see him, she’d just jump into bed with him. Well, why not? Hadn’t she raided the condom machine herself after less than half an hour with him? They were each as bad as the other. And her little smile was letting him know it.
“I ended up having an intimate session with myself in your bathroom instead,” he said, avoiding her question.
Of course it had been on his mind. No one had ever made love to him like Frankie. But he never for one moment thought she would have been receptive to the idea—until her lips had ravished his across the table.
Neither could he help the amused, little-boy expression etched on his face at his confession. Frankie’s beautiful face was a picture, her eyes twinkling in amusement at the thought of him standing over the toilet bowl with only his hand and imagination for company.
Frankie’s heart was doing back flips. His expression was so familiar, so warming; his eyes so alight—cheeky, sparkling and happy. If she’d had any doubts that he didn’t adore her, absolutely, completely, they were shot to pieces in an instant. She only wished she knew why he’d let it all go.
She crossed the floor and grabbed the front of his overalls. She ripped the press studs apart and ran her palms over his hard chest. Then stroking her hands over his shoulders, she pushed the top of the garment from his shoulders, trapping his arms by his sides, before continuing down over his body until she reached his hips. She clamped her mouth firmly over his, their tongues working frantically, entwining and tasting. After twelve years of famine, they were greedy for every touch, every sensation, plundering each other’s senses.
Her mouth was hot and sweet. She was ready for the taking. And champagne bubbles were popping all over Jake’s brain. He pulled his arms from out of his sleeves and caught her firmly by the shoulders. Squeezing her tightly, he drew her close to his chest, h
is heartbeat loud and strong, pumping away against her soft breasts as they moulded so perfectly against his hard muscle.
She was hot. He was hot. He swung her round against the wall, their lips still locked, their tongues now dancing a slow minuet, barely surfacing for air. Then, slipping one foot between hers, he parted her legs, absorbing her moan beneath his mouth, as he felt her hands stray to his hips once more.
She slid her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers as his overalls slid further down his legs, crumpling and pooling at his ankles, her hands tracing the contour of his muscles until she grasped his taught buttocks.
Then, pulling him to her, she nudged her groin against his, teasing his hard, throbbing arousal that was threatening to burst from its confines. He rotated his pelvis in blatant, sexual desire, his hands busy at her breasts, as his fingertips stroked lightly over the wool of her sweater. Then, slipping a finger lightly inside one of the silky cups of her bra, he caressed a nipple, teasing it erect.
She moaned again, every muscle and bone dissolving into a puddle of jelly; every nerve of her body was consumed in total pleasure. Her sex swollen, her libido revving into overdrive, she was desperate to reach a climax. She slid her hands round to his hard shaft, grasping it firmly, before running her hand along the silken sheath. She manoeuvred her body until she was rubbing its tip against her slick wetness.
“For God’s sake, Jay, screw me,” she begged, her voice thick and heavy, husky with emotion. And releasing her tiny hand bag from her shoulder, she removed the packet of condoms she’d bought yesterday.
Fumbling with the foil packet, he quickly slid the latex over his erection, then pushed up her skirt.
She placed a foot against the desk top, her breath short and ragged, while his fingers moved her panties to one side. Then sliding the full length of his shaft inside the warm, wet, secret depths of her womanhood, they paused for a moment, their eyes locked in rapturous delight, drinking in the enormity of the power they had over one other.
Little mews of sheer ecstasy caught in her throat as they bucked and thrusted against each other. Her head pressed hard against the wall as blessed relief washed over her in a tidal wave of pure pleasure. It had been two years since her last sexual experience. And no one could do it better than Jay.
Her cries and undulations tipped him over the edge too as he pumped his hot semen into her, wishing the condom weren’t there, separating the two of them.
They didn’t move, just clung to each other, cheek against cheek, drowning in the spontaneity, the intimacy and feeling the beat of heart against heart, until their breathing slowed.
Frankie smiled first, relaxing in his embrace, running her tongue across her swollen lips, loving the basic, primitive feelings he still aroused in her. Her heart swelled in her chest, pressing hard against her ribcage, filling her with an emotion she’d long thought dead.
God, she still loved him.
After all he’d done, after all her rants of hate and loathing, after all the pain, she still loved him.
“Oh, Jay,” she whispered softly against his cheek. “I’ve missed you. Why didn’t you call me?”
Had she been too young, too naive?
Jake felt a knife twist in his heart, the pain unbearable, excruciating. She’d never understand it had been for her own good. And the guilt of hurting her, and hearing it in her voice, was as real as it had been twelve years before.
He crushed her to him. He could barely breathe, stifling his groan of pain. He’d missed her too—more than she’d ever realise—but staying together had not been an option in any form. It had been better like this. She’d moved on with her life, become successful, and even been able to patch things up with her parents, even when things had looked so bleak with her unplanned baby.
He’d loved the girl to pieces. And despite everything that had happened, he still did. The woman he held so tightly in his arms felt like coming home. He’d been a fool to let it all go.
He’d be a fool to let it all go again.
Chapter 9
Frankie yawned and stretched, moulding her body against Jake’s scrumptious flesh, melting into the hot, sensuous skin covering the hard muscle beneath. They’d spent most of the afternoon in a tangle of sweaty bodies, feasting on each other, alternating between frenzied need and long, slow, thorough lovemaking, trying to make up for all those lost years. Until, temporarily satiated, they’d drifted off, sleeping in each other’s arms.
Mmm! He smelt good. Frankie nuzzled her face into his chest, the rough hairs tickling her nose and mouth as she hooked one leg over his body, while he turned into her, folding her even more tightly into his embrace. He felt the softness of her breasts against his body, the smoothness of her skin as he stroked his roughened hand over her back and waist, and down to the delicious curve of her bottom. Her hips stirred and trembled, and fresh stirrings tingled in his groin. Thank goodness they’d both brought condoms. They couldn’t get enough of each other.
He knew he’d risked a lot bringing her here. For all he knew, D.S. Turner was watching his flat even now. But he didn’t care anymore. The fear Turner had once installed in him as a young kid was fading fast. It was as if he was suddenly craving the danger, giving him the incentive he needed. It wasn’t enough—a quick shag, up against a wall, no matter how satisfying it had been. He needed to make love to her properly—in his bed, slowly, sensuously, passionately. And Frankie had needed no persuading. So he left Sam to lock up.
His friend hadn’t needed asking twice. No guesses for what had been going on in their office as they emerged, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, Frankie’s bee-stung lips devoid of any trace of lip gloss. It was about time Jake got involved with some serious totty. And boy, did she look like serious stuff—lucky bastard.
Frankie sat up with a start.
“Shit! I told Debs I’d be home by now.”
She swung her legs out of bed, fumbling in her handbag for her mobile phone.
“I’d better ring her. Tell her I’m going to be late.”
She didn’t want to leave Jake—or his bed. But she’d been a mother for too long, and the thought of her daughter worrying about her thrust her back into the realms of reality.
Jake raised himself onto one elbow, allowing his free hand to rest protectively on her waist. He understood her concern but didn’t want her to go—not yet.
“Can’t you make some excuse and go back tomorrow?” he tentatively suggested. “Stay the night. It’s a long drive, and it’ll be dark soon.”
His hand stroked round to her belly as he pressed his lips against the small of her back, inhaling her scent—a mixture of sweat, sex and body lotion she’d used earlier that day. It was wickedly sensual and outrageously sexy—electrifying. His senses gearing up into overdrive once more as he felt her quiver beneath his touch.
Frankie was desperately trying to focus on the ring tone warbling at the other end of the line. Her heart skitted across her ribs again, torn between going home to her daughter and staying here with Jake. She tilted her head back and saw the depth of fresh desire in his heavy eyes. Warm liquid melted inside her, pooling in the pit of her stomach.
God, she wanted him so badly.
So badly, she’d even lie to her daughter and mother.
“Hi, Mum,” she said brightly. “Is Debs about? I’m not going to make it home tonight. Is that okay?”
Not that she had much choice in the matter. Her mind was already made up.
Jake heard the metallic squeaking from the other end of the line.
Frankie laughed. “I had a bit too much of the old wino last night…”
Well, at least she wasn’t fibbing about that.
“…and I’ve been sleeping off the hangover…”
Well, with a stretch of the imagination—she had woken late.
“…and I didn’t want to drive while over the limit.”
Okay, so perhaps that was a bigger fib. She probably had earlier, but what her mother didn’t know...
More metallic squeaks followed.
Frankie laughed. “I know. I never learn. So I thought I’d catch up with an old friend tonight…”
And what catching up that was going to be.
“…but we shan’t be getting drunk tonight…”
Unless getting drunk on sex counted.
Her mother made a caustic comment, and Frankie laughed afresh.
“I know, never again. I wish I had a tenner for every time I’d said that...So you don’t mind?”
With the amount of squawking going on, her mother was obviously giving her a piece of her mind but nevertheless agreeing to her daughter’s request. And Jake’s lips traced a new path along her waistline, resting for a moment on the gentle curve above her hip as his hand sought the softness of her breasts. His fingertips teased gently, loving the way she trembled with every stroke, satisfied in the knowledge that she was going to stay with him a little longer.
“Thanks, Mum, you’re a star. Put Debs on now please.” She shrugged him away, needing to regain control of her body and her breathing before she spoke to her daughter.
The squealing got suddenly squealier, more excited. Frankie’s eyes lit up. Jake felt a momentary pang of jealousy for the way Frankie’s eyes sparkled with a love he didn’t share, shining with something she alone shared with another human being; but he wasn’t part of it. The swell of emotion rose in his throat, choking him. He wanted to be part of it—part of Frankie’s life again, daughter and all. It didn’t matter who her father was. She was Frankie’s. And that would make her his too.
He gently caressed her soft, flat belly, unable to resist touching her. He’d missed this for so long. He grinned as she squirmed at his touch, fighting the urge to moan as she continued her conversation with her daughter. His hands slid between her legs, cupping her sex, rotating his thumb against her hard little button of desire. Then, placing his lips on the small of her back once more, he licked and nibbled his way up her spine until he was pressing his lips on her nape. And dreaming of a time when maybe he could make love to her without a condom.