She finished on a rush of breath and then snapped her hand back under the blanket, quickly looking across the lot at the church. This guy didn’t deserve an explanation. She wasn’t supposed to care enough about what he thought to feel the need to give him one. But after everything else that had gone wrong today…
Whatever.
The heater blowing was the only sound. Then, “Are you okay?”
“I’m frustrated, Jase. Not about to b-break down and s-sob all over you or anything. Can you just drive up to the entrance and drop me? I c-can get in on my own from there.”
“Physically okay is what I’m asking. Your car is in a ditch. Did you bump your head or strain your neck?”
“Oh. Um, no. I was taking the turn into the lot pretty carefully, so when the wheels lost traction and started to slide, it was kind of a slow-motion event.” At his skeptical look, she let out a laugh. “I can’t believe you care, but really, it’s the truth. My heart was going faster than the car, I think.”
He gave a stiff nod. “That’s good, then.”
Okay, so they were back to being civil. “Do you think you can drop me at the front?” she asked again.
Jase looked out the windshield. “I’ll carry you in, but yeah, I’ll get by the door first and then run back out. Can you wiggle your toes?”
Her feet were in his lap, her legs stretched across the console between them. Her heels rested between his thighs, and he was rubbing the life back into her abused soles.
She wiggled her toes, and while they were a little stiff… “I don’t see an amputation in my future.”
Jase laughed, then seemed to catch himself and look out his driver-side window. But she could see through the reflection that he was still looking at her.
His hands moved over her feet, rubbing and squeezing the blood through them. Circling with his thumbs at the center of her arch. Stroking the muscle that ran along the bottom. It felt good. Really good. Like maybe even a little too good because that slow, steady, warming touch was starting to relax her in a way she wasn’t accustomed to when it came to Jase.
He palmed her heel and rotated her ankle, his fingers extending just the slightest bit up her calf. Enough that for one second Emily thought about how it would feel to have those big hands coasting up past her knee.
She gave her head a solid shake and tried to pull her foot back. But Jase just told her to relax—because he wasn’t taking her anywhere until he’d gotten her warmed up—and then moved back to her other foot. His long fingers spread over her chilled flesh. Pressing exactly the right spot. Rubbing so it took everything she had not to moan.
The silence was starting to feel strained, but maybe that was just because for a second there she’d thought about Jase in a way she’d been working very hard not to. And that wasn’t cool. They had mutual loathing down to an art form. They were good with it.
Anything else would just be…weird.
He rotated her ankle and then knuckled up the sole of her foot—and this time, the moan of pleasure slipped past her lips before she was able to yank it back.
“Wow, Em. You need a minute alone?”
Heat rushed into her cheeks, but she wasn’t going to let Jase have the last word or the upper hand. Even if he had just pulled off what could only be described as a rescue of Prince Charming proportions.
“Yes, please. And if you’ve got a s-snapshot of Max to leave with me, that’d be swell.”
“You know, Em, the key to a successful burn is keeping a straight face. Or short of that, stifling the snort laugh.”
She gaped, her eyes locking with his, and damn it, more laughter bubbled up in her chest. “I did not snort.”
His brows raised in smug satisfaction. “Okay.”
She leaned forward, amusement and indignation mingling in her next words. “I didn’t.”
She thought he was ready to deliver the next slam. She might even have been anticipating it, just a little. But instead of him waiting the mandatory beat and letting her have it, his brows drew forward, his gaze darkening.
She followed his stare to where his hands were cradling her leg. The long, thick fingers on one of his hands were splayed wide to cradle her calf, the other hand resting over her knee where her dress had piled up.
She hadn’t noticed it before. Hadn’t even been aware of where his hands had ended up when she shifted forward in her seat. But now, now she could feel his fingers like a brand. Feel that tingle of awareness, that low charge working its way outward. Riding the line of her leg, the bend of her knee, the length of her thigh. She could feel the heat of his palms, the press of each finger where it lay against her skin. God, she could feel her blood heating beneath them.
Her breath trembled.
Jase looked back to her. His eyes smoldered now with something she’d never seen in them before. They were close, only inches apart. A blanket of snow had already covered the windshield and driver-side windows, making this space they were sharing feel private, intimate.
She stopped breathing.
Because Jase wasn’t looking at her like he wanted to insult her. Or carry on with the banter. He looked like he wanted something else. Maybe the same thing she’d only in that second realized she wanted too.
Jase frowned. Coming to his senses maybe, probably. Because this look between them was nuts. Wrong. Something she knew she shouldn’t want, but couldn’t seem to break away from regardless.
So it was good that he was. Because otherwise she didn’t even want to think about what—
His stare dropped to her mouth. And with a shuddering breath, she realized, yes, she was already thinking about it.
About how big his hands felt on her leg. How strong his arms had been around her. How the lips she’d forced herself to stop speculating about in high school might taste.
“Just once,” he said, his voice gone gravelly low. “Just to put an end to the curiosity.”
She was nodding, sort of, her head moving the barest amount.
“No way will it live up to the hype,” she replied. “I’ll walk away disappointed. Probably feeling sorry for the girls with such high expectations.”
Jase’s mouth curved at one corner, a cocky addition to his words. “You’ll walk away wishing for more.”
She might. “Not a chance.”
“Whatever.” And then he did it. Caught the back of her neck in his palm and closed the distance between them, his eyes locked with hers, almost daring her to back out, until that last instant when she saw something flash in them besides challenge. But then, contact.
Contact that teased with a barely there quality, rubbing in a gentle, tasting exploration that shocked a trembling gasp past her lips.
Damn. She wasn’t supposed to get caught up in it. She wanted to remain unaffected. Indifferent. But the skill with which Jase’s firm lips moved over and against hers made indifference impossible. He was good.
Jase pulled back.
Shoot. She hadn’t wanted it to end. Wasn’t ready for the wanting more that he’d promised to become a reality so quickly. But the last thing she was going to do was beg, even if she could still feel that almost-too-light, somehow just-perfect press of his lips.
Her eyes drifted open, and she found Jase barely an inch away. A frown carved deep across his mouth. His eyes dark and fixed on hers.
“Jase,” she whispered, barely managing the single word before the fingers at the back of her neck tightened and she knew without question what was coming next.
More.
His mouth crushed down on hers. No tentative kiss this time. No featherlight tease. His mouth was firm, his kiss confident. Arresting. She opened beneath him, letting him lick into her mouth, breathe against her lips. Taste her tongue as she tasted his.
Her fingers were locked in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. Because yes, please—closer. Sh
e needed him closer. And he must have been of the same mind because he’d wrapped his arms around her and was gathering her toward him as he kissed her again and again. Devoured her mouth, and groaned when she bit at his.
Her fingers were in his hair, the silky waves she’d spent too many study halls thinking about. Thank God she’d never gotten her hands into the stuff before now, or she wouldn’t have been able to forget it. Even now, she wondered if she could.
His kiss was so hot.
Hot enough that her mind seemed to be flickering between satisfaction that this was Jase—her high-school fantasy fulfilled—and the certain knowledge that this had to stop because it was Jase. Jase kissing her like she’d never been kissed before. Jase thrusting into her mouth, his tongue sliding wet and hot against her own. Jase working one wide palm beneath her skirt and up the side of her thigh, his grip tightening and relaxing with every few inches he advanced. Jase making her burn and beg for his touch to extend just a little farther, just that much more, just—
A phone sounded but neither of them stopped, not until the third ring when suddenly Emily jerked back with a gasp, staring in horrified shock at Jase, who looked more stunned than anything else. Stunned and still wearing that sexy sort of frown on his face.
They were in the car. In the parking lot of the church, where they were both supposed to have been five minutes ago.
Jase snapped out of it, patting around his pockets and then retrieving his phone, all while keeping his eyes trained on her.
“Jase,” he answered. Then, “Are you fu—” He broke off, closing his eyes as his free hand went to the bridge of his nose and a coarse sound worked its way past his gritted teeth. Slapping the wipers on, he asked, “They can’t get anyone else?”
Emily sat up as her stomach began to sink. Over the dash she saw the first signs of activity. One bundled body after another leaving the church.
Oh no.
“Okay, man. Yeah, let me know.” Clicking off the call, Jase looked down at Emily’s feet still in his lap. “Priest slipped on the ice and broke his hip. They aren’t sending anyone else out. The wedding will have to be rescheduled.”
Passing the phone across the seat, he sat quietly as Emily dialed first one number, then another until finally she got through to the father of the bride.
Sally was okay but didn’t want to talk. They were taking her home.
A moment later, there was a knock on the window. One of the other bridesmaids was holding up Emily’s boots and coat.
“You want a ride home?” she asked, her stare flicking from Emily to Jase and then back again.
Emily was about to crawl out the window and into the girl’s arms because she was so relieved to see her—because what the heck had she been thinking—when Jase pushed her back in her seat and reached past to grab her things.
“I’ll take her home.”
Oh man.
Chapter 10
The ride back into the city was quiet, the roads improving with every mile they traveled. Emily used Jase’s phone to make a few calls, trying to distract herself. But when there was nothing left to do, she found herself simply looking at him. Watching the way he drove.
How his hands gripped the wheel.
The way the muscles in his legs flexed beneath his tux pants as he hit the accelerator.
The man was too good-looking.
Too confident.
Too much of an ass for Emily to have let him kiss her the way he had. For the nothing she’d had to say about him driving her home. For the questions running through her mind about what would happen when they got there.
Jase pulled up to her building and took a spot in the front. She had her boots and jacket now. Her purse. There was no reason for him to come up.
And yet, when he put the car in Park without a word, killed the engine, and hopped out, rounding to her side of the car without missing a beat, the flutter of anticipation within her was unmistakable.
Then they were inside the building. Riding the elevator up to her floor. She was unlocking the door with Jase a mere inch from her back. They were inside, the lock thrown, and his hands on the espresso-stained panels beside her head as he pressed into her with his hips. He was so much bigger than she was. So hot and broad and warm and, oh God, he was pushing her coat from her shoulders. Gathering her skirt as he pressed a hard-muscled thigh between her legs.
Hitting that perfect spot that had her lids dropping to half-mast and her breath leaving her lungs in a slow sigh.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” she panted, her fingers feeling for the studs fastening his shirt.
“Less than nothing,” Jake assured her, bowing forward to let his hands coast up the backs of her thighs as he burrowed his face in the crook of her neck and groaned her name.
Her name. When he said it like that—like he was in heaven and hell at the same time, blaming her for both—her entire body ignited.
“Good. Just so we’re clear.”
Jase was rocking into her, his breath ragged, his erection thick and long between them. Positioned low against her pubic bone.
“You’re so tall,” she gasped, savoring the unique fit of this man moving against her body. Sure it wasn’t the most romantic thing she’d ever said, but something told her Jase wouldn’t have appreciated it if it was. This was, after all, a strictly physical release.
“Perfect fit. I fucking knew. From back—”
His words cut off as he buried his face in her neck and swore.
The coarse sound of it… Yes.
She wanted to hear it again. All night.
She rocked back into him. Meeting his rhythm as she turned into his ear.
Ran her teeth along the outer shell and felt his hands tighten on her ass as he swore again. Rocked harder. Just exactly there.
Emily started to shake, her fingers clutching at anything, everything, trying to get a hold on a world that felt like it was coming apart.
“Like that,” she gasped, no longer caring whether she sounded like she was pleading or not. More than happy to let Jase have the upper hand especially if he was going to use it like… “Jase!”
“Are you close, Emily?” he growled, his body like steel around hers. Tensed, ready.
Another thrust rubbing against that needy, aching spot, and her answer broke against his lips. “Ye-es.”
He hiked her knee higher, tucking it up against his hip. Then reached between them and, with what seemed a single flick of his hand, had his pants open, his cock free.
She looked down, her eyes going wide. Because wow.
He was…a big man.
Everywhere.
Her tongue flicked out to wet her lip. She wasn’t generally the drop-to-her-knees sort, but something about the sight of Jase’s heavy cock between them had her mouth watering.
Her center clenching with a need to be filled.
Jase caught her chin in the crook of his finger, bringing her eyes back to his.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked, rocking into her again.
“Yes,” she panted, moving into the press and slide of his steely length against her sex. Wishing she had a magic wand to get this skirt out of the way. And her panties too. Because she wanted to feel him against her. She wanted the hot, wet friction of his skin… No!
Jesus, what was she thinking? This was Jase Foster. Pill or not…
The crinkling sound of a wrapper being ripped opened stopped her thoughts in their tracks.
“Good,” he said, rolling the latex on with a deft move she never would have thought sexy before, but something about Jase’s big hands moving up his length… “I mean, I’m safe, Em. And I know you well enough to know you’d tell me if you weren’t. But I’m a ‘no chances’ kind of guy.”
Was it hot?
Not in the traditional sense, but in terms of open communic
ation and responsibility?
Definitely.
Especially when paired with the heated intensity in Jase’s eyes. The bunched tension in the flexing muscle of his jaw. The way he raked his eyes over her and gathered up the length of her skirt, one hand after the other until all that remained between them was the pale-beige silk and white lace of her panties.
Jase smoothed his palm over the front of them, cupping her with his fingers. “Hot,” he growled against her lips. Then pulling the scrap of lingerie aside, he stroked where she was already open to him.
“Christ, Em. You’re so wet.”
Her leg tensed around his hip, her body pleading for more of the contact her mouth wouldn’t beg for.
Or she’d thought she wouldn’t. But that was before Jase slid a single finger inside her. Pushed deep and then, on the withdrawal, stroked forward, making contact with that spot deep, deep inside her that no one got right.
“Jase. There,” she gasped, her eyes locked with his, her lips open as her breath sucked in when he did it again.
“What? This?” he asked, that heated look in his too-blue eyes going supernova.
So sexy. And combined with the cocky half grin on his gorgeous mouth, she might not need him to do anything at all but look at her that way.
“Yes!” she gasped, rocking into his hand.
“Ask me nice, Em. Say ‘Please, Jase.’”
His finger grazed the spot again, only this time, too lightly for it to be anything more than exactly what he’d meant it to be. A tease. Torture.
Another play for control.
She wanted him to touch her. To take her over the edge. She wouldn’t need much. He could do it with another single touch, if he touched her the way she needed him to.
But something inside her wouldn’t let the “Yes, please, please, please, Jase!” poised on her tongue go free.
Instead, she leaned her shoulders back into the door, tipping her hips into his touch as she met his eyes, taking a little of her own control.
May the Best Man Win Page 8