by Lori Foster
“Depends.” On whether or not she’d let him into her room once he took her back to the hotel. “Are you in a hurry?”
As if in thought, Ronnie pursed her mouth to the side, then turned to Charlotte. “Will I be able to grab a sandwich at this food place?”
Charlotte’s knowing gaze bounced back and forth between Ronnie and Jack before she settled into a conspiratorial grin. “Sure. Brewer’s is known for their catering, but they also do individual service.”
“Okay, then. Why not?”
“Great.” With that taken care of, Jack only had one other consideration. Laying a heavy hint, he said, “Now I need to figure out what to do with the kitten.”
Brodie looked up. “Who’s keeping her?”
Stepping forward, Ronnie said, “I can, but since I’m in the hotel I’ll need a few days to figure it out.”
“Or I can keep her,” Jack offered, even while noting that the kitten kept getting closer and closer to Brodie. “But I’d have to do some cleanup to the house first to ensure she doesn’t get hurt on any of the tools, exposed nails, or drywall sheets still lying around.”
With infinite care and a lot of fretting from Howler, Brodie lifted the kitten for a few gentle strokes while looking her over. “She seems okay overall. I’d check with Rodney, though, to be sure.”
“Plan to,” Jack said, and then to Ronnie, “Rodney is the vet Brodie uses for Howler.”
The kitten squeaked a few meows and poor Howler looked ready to perish. He circled Brodie, trying to sniff Peanut from different angles. Brodie put her back on her little paws. “Tell you what, since Howler’s attached, I could keep her while you get set up.”
Ronnie shook her head, laughing softly as the kitten crawled onto Howler’s back paw, getting as close as she could. Now that she was there, Howler settled down, curling around her so that he practically hugged her with his whole body.
Charlotte stood and dusted her hands. “Howler is often around the office, and you can’t take both a dog and a cat with you everywhere you go, so I could watch her during the day when you guys are busy.”
“Perfect,” Jack said. “Glad that’s settled.”
* * *
RONNIE’S HEAD SWAM with confusion, and no wonder. It had been disorienting enough to see Jack and his family all working together to care for one pocket-size ball of fur. She’d stood there among them and, honest to God, she’d felt the love. It was as perceptible as the warmth of the sun or fog on a rainy day.
At first, she’d tried to convince herself that it couldn’t be real. No family was that close, that comical, that caring.
But the camaraderie had pulled her in, making her a part of the circle when she’d tried so hard to stay emotionally apart. She’d experienced it...so she couldn’t deny it. Yes, they liked to needle each other, but it didn’t matter because the love was so heart-crushingly obvious.
And that big dumb dog. The big, sweet, adorable dog. God, he’d almost melted what was left of her heart with his innate tendency to protect something smaller, needier.
Much like Jack.
The similarities had chipped away at her defenses, even as the contagious humor slipped past her guard, causing her to laugh with the others.
For a little while there, she’d been a part of something. A part of them. She’d gotten a taste of something she hadn’t even known she wanted, had never dared to hope for. Like she imagined an addict felt after getting a hit of a potent drug, she immediately wanted more.
As if Jack, on his own, hadn’t been appealing enough? This family, together, was overkill.
“What did you think of Mrs. Anderson?” Jack asked.
Ronnie had eaten her own meal on the way to the woman’s house, and then helped Jack carry in the platters of croissant sandwiches, fruits, vegetables, and dips. Mrs. Anderson, who was so tiny she made Ronnie look like an Amazon, had bustled around the kitchen, directing the placement of everything while offering gratitude left and right.
When she’d finally slowed down enough to notice Jack’s shirt was on Ronnie, she’d stopped, lifted eyeglasses from a chain around her neck, and ended her intense study of them both with a decisive, “Well.”
Jack had teased the older woman, saying, “You were young once, right?”
For a reply, she’d sighed as if reminiscing. “Indeed.” Looking over her glasses, she told Ronnie, “But I wore my own clothes.”
A dozen smart-tongued replies had tripped through Ronnie’s brain. No one chastised her anymore. But Mrs. Anderson had been so sweet, she ended up saying a lame, “It’s not how it looks.”
Brows rising up to her gray hairline, Mrs. Anderson asked, “How does it look?”
Jack had snickered, Ronnie had squirmed, and then she just explained. “It looks like we saved a kitten from a jerk who wanted to harm her. The kitten used my shirt on the ride home, so Jack gave me his and I haven’t yet been back to my room to change.”
Mrs. Anderson’s faded eyes blinked, and a web of wrinkles filled her cheeks as she smiled. “That’s not nearly as titillating as I’d hoped, but I appreciate the kindness you showed that poor animal. Here, have a cookie.”
Far as rewards went, that was a sweet one.
And so they’d eaten their cookies with coffee while indulging in a fifteen-minute visit—which was all the time they had before guests were due to arrive.
Now that they were back in his car, she couldn’t stop thinking how nice it had been.
“Mrs. Anderson?” Jack prompted again, when she didn’t immediately answer his question.
Ronnie decided to answer honestly, instead of with her usual snark. “She’s a character. Very spry for her age, obviously intelligent, and amusing.”
Brows lifting, he said, “You liked her?”
She hedged the question by saying, “What’s not to like?”
“Well, I adore her. She was my teacher ages ago. She was always strict but fair.”
Ronnie choked on a rude sound. “I bet you were her pet pupil, weren’t you?”
He grinned. “Yes.”
Before she knew it, he pulled up to the front of the hotel. Damn, the day had gone by too quickly. She hated for it to end because she continued to enjoy herself. Whether taking on a creep, purchasing malformed snakes, saving a kitten, or visiting with his family and friends, Jack made her feel good. Better than good, he made her feel normal. Like she could be anyone.
Anyone other than herself.
With him, she could talk about her life, her past, her family, and it didn’t hurt. The memories didn’t dig in to plague her or cause her to relive all the moments of regret.
Wondering if she dared to extend the day, she kept her gaze averted and opened her seat belt. “Jack—”
He turned off the car and angled toward her. “Invite me up, Ronnie.”
Those words grabbed all her attention, swinging her attention around and locking her gaze with his. His eyes were so dark, his lashes so thick...and damn it, he looked like a man who intended to get what he wanted.
Did he really want her? The punching of her heart made it difficult to think. She knew what she wanted, yet the instinct to protect herself remained. “We talked about this.”
“Yes, and you said you’d leave your options open.” He gently slid the rough pads of his fingertips over her cheek, his thumb touching the corner of her mouth.
He might be a stuffed-shirt to those who didn’t know him, but the appearance was an illusion. Everything about Jack, from his work-worn hands to the strength in his upper body to the knife in his boot and that overpowering confidence, made it clear he was as elemental as a man could get.
And every bit as appealing.
Husky encouragement lowered his voice. “Tonight is an option, Ronnie. Take it.”
He may as well have said, Take me, because that’s what she heard.
It’s what she saw as she stripped him in her mind and put him on her bed. On her.
In her.
Lord, she could almost feel the incredible sensation of it all and before she could censure her decision she said, “Okay.”
Triumph filled his eyes, but it was the promise in his slow smile that made her nipples tighten and ache.
“Come on.” In her haste to be proactive—or so she told herself—she practically fell from the car. She’d barely closed her door when he was there beside her, his nostrils flaring, his incredible eyes nearly black with anticipation.
Leaning down, he breathed into her ear, “Hurry.”
Didn’t have to tell her twice. Ronnie fumbled in her purse for her keys. The hotel was so old that they hadn’t yet changed the room locks to cards. Their single elevator was also slow as molasses and with the jackhammer pounding of her heart she didn’t think she could wait on it.
Instead, she went straight for the stairs, aware of Jack right behind her.
Two older men sat in the lobby, one reading a newspaper, but they both looked as she and Jack bolted up the steps. When they reached the third floor, Ronnie paused to laugh around her huffing breaths.
Spinning her to the wall, Jack pressed his body to hers. “I’m dying here and you think it’s funny?” He took her mouth before she could answer, his tongue thrusting in, his hands clasping her ass and grinding her closer.
Lost. Ronnie felt utterly, completely lost.
A noise down the hall alerted him and he stepped away just as quickly, grabbing her hand and saying, “Let’s go.”
They passed a maid who gave them the stink eye, as if she knew what they’d been up to, and that made Ronnie laugh again.
“It’s funny,” she explained quickly, allowing him to snatch the key from her hand. “And fun.” Because it was Jack, because he made her feel things other than lust—and honestly, she’d never known lust like this.
A one-night stand with an attractive stranger might appease a need, at least partially, but it didn’t come close to this, to the combination of want and need, understanding and, yes, amusement. All together, they created a powerful, wonderful tsunami of sensation unlike anything she’d ever known before.
Watching Jack work the old lock as he tried to get the door open made Ronnie happy from the inside out. “Is it weird that I’m enjoying this?” More than she’d enjoyed anything since leaving home at eighteen. “I’ve never been in a mad race to my room.”
“Good,” he growled, finally getting the lock to open. “There’s more to come.”
What a promise. It didn’t surprise her that he liked knowing he was different, whether she wanted him to be or not. “Even knowing this is probably a mistake—”
The door swung in and he turned on her. “I am not a mistake.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean—”
Jack bent his knees, scooped her up, and tossed her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing at all. Carrying her inside, he kicked the door closed, then turned the latch. One large hand splayed over her ass as he strode to the bed.
But he didn’t dump her. Or even lower her.
She felt him breathing, his broad chest expanding heavily, exhaling slowly. It was sexy as hell, knowing she’d caused that level of need, but now they were here, and she was more than ready to get on with it.
“The blood is starting to rush to my head.”
His hand moved over her behind, squeezing one cheek, and he turned his face into her hip. “I love your ass.”
Okay, so maybe her head could take it a little longer.
But no, he turned and gently laid her crossways on the bed, then knelt over her, his powerful arms braced at either side of her shoulders. “I want you naked, Ronnie.”
Um...she had hoped to do some kissing first, maybe lose the clothes gradually—after he was so blind to lust he wouldn’t pay much attention to her lack of curves.
She wasn’t ashamed or anything. She’d bared herself to plenty of guys.
But what they’d thought hadn’t mattered. She’d used them to appease her urges, and if they enjoyed her body, fine. Their approval hadn’t been necessary. In fact, she hadn’t worried about anyone’s approval in years.
His gaze sharpened. “Stop thinking so much and relax.”
Was that an order? She scowled. “I’m relaxed.” Actually, she was so wired she felt like a virgin. “You relax.”
Grinning, Jack dipped his head to her neck, his open mouth against her skin. Warm, damp. Tantalizing.
Eyes closing, Ronnie tipped her head to give him better access. He kept his upper body levered above her, but his lower body...at that point they made firm contact. She felt him, fully erect, against her belly and she couldn’t help shifting, sliding one leg out to the side, then hooking it around him.
Jack gave a low groan, his hips flexing so that his erection moved against her. He trailed his mouth up to the shell of her ear, his warm breath making her toes curl before his tongue dipped.
Who knew ears were so erogenous?
Lightly, he bit her earlobe and then brushed his lips over her jaw before taking her mouth with raw hunger that devastated her senses.
She forgot about her meager boobs, instead focused only on how his mouth consumed, the way his tongue claimed...oh, and how his hand just tunneled under her cami to stroke a hot path over her bare skin on his way to her left breast.
Ronnie would have held her breath in anticipation but his kiss kept her too involved to do more than press up eagerly into his open palm as it covered her.
Her A-cup breast was small enough, and his hand more than large enough, that he completely enveloped her, his fingers curling to cuddle and shape.
If he felt any disappointment, he hid it well with a low sound of pleasure.
Suddenly Ronnie wanted her clothes gone. His gone, too. She wanted to feel him skin to skin, but finding the words to tell him wasn’t easy, not with the flood of pleasure making her breathe too deeply, clouding her vision, and turning her body into one aching need.
In an easy shift, he turned, putting her atop him and at the same time drawing her knees forward so that she sat on his abs. Ronnie stared down at him and tried to orient her scattered thoughts. The longest part of her hair swung forward, covering one of her eyes. As she reached to tuck it back, he caught both shirts in his fists—the shirt he’d lent her and her camisole—and pulled them up and over her head, leaving her naked to the waistband of her low-riding jeans.
His gaze burned over her, taking in every small detail with carnal fascination. His hands clasped her hips, his fingers flexing. “You are so fucking sexy,” he breathed.
All Ronnie could see in the flush of his cheekbones, the heat in his eyes, and the deep breaths he drew was appreciation.
His hands touched her again, this time oh so gently, his fingertips skimming over her from her collarbone to her shoulders, back to her upper chest where he spread his fingers and slowly, slowly, brought them down to her breasts.
She saw his throat work as he swallowed, and his gaze narrowed when he lightly fingered her nipples, playing with them like he would delicate flowers.
Ronnie wasn’t sure where to look—at his face so she could see every emotion passing over his features, or at his tanned, masculine hands, so large against her smaller frame.
Her breath caught as he lightly tugged on nipples already too sensitive.
“Come down here,” he growled, reaching for her shoulders and bringing her closer so he could latch on to her breast, sucking softly...then not so softly.
The tug of his mouth sent a river of wet heat through her body. She couldn’t resist the roll of her hips against the solid ridge of his erection.
“Be still,” Jack said, then switched to her other breast.
Another order? Fine. Whatever.
But how could she be still? She knew lust, damn it, and this...this was something else.
She needed more. Now.
While she struggled for breath, she laid a hand to his jaw, now shadowy and rough. Basic. Elemental. Beneath her fingers, she felt the flex of suction as he pulled at her nipple.
“There’s only me.” Her words came out huskily, almost as a soft gasp, but they got his attention.
Slowly drawing back, he released her with a curling of his tongue that she felt everywhere. He looked first at her body, at the wet nipples, now aching, then up into her eyes.
She knew he didn’t understand, she wasn’t sure she did either, but of course, Jack being Jack, he wanted to.
“For you,” she said, spreading her fingers over the hot, sleek skin of his shoulder, feeling the contraction of incredible muscles. “You wanted me, and here we are.”
“I want you,” he agreed, and he smiled slightly. “Finally, here we are.”
She couldn’t bear comparisons, so she made it clear. “I don’t care who else you’ve been with, or how good it was. Right now, you’re with me. Only me.”
Jack took her elbows and brought her down flat against him, then surprised her with a hug, those strong arms closing around her with affection in the middle of the lust.
“There was only you yesterday. And the day before,” he said. He turned again, this time putting her on her back while he moved to her side. One-handed, he worked on the closure of her jeans. “From the second I walked into Freddie’s and saw you, it’s been only you.”
Oh God. It was the same for her, with one exception. She realized now that she hadn’t been living. Hadn’t truly been feeling. Not since her abduction and the estrangement with her family. All that accumulated time of insulating numbness—gone. She felt raw, swamped with sensation. Glorious, wonderful, terrifying sensation.
She was in over her head, knew it and accepted it, but no matter what, she couldn’t stop.
Opening the snap and lowering the zipper to her jeans, Jack pressed his hand inside. Over the flat of her stomach and into her panties, he curled those long fingers over her.