Tempting Jason

by Lisa Renee Jones

Instantly, she melted into him, molding her softness against those delicious muscles. Her hands slid around his neck. The action pressed her aching nipples against his chest, and she moaned softly into his mouth.

  Divine, soft caresses of his tongue played sensual havoc with her entire body. It was just a kiss, but it was also so much more. Years of pent-up desire had been set free in both of them.

  Wetness dampened her panties as if there had been twenty minutes of foreplay instead of simply this one kiss.

  God, how she wanted him. Her leg went up and wrapped around his calf, pulling his hips against hers. Feeling the evidence of his arousal press against her stomach was fuel to the fire. She wanted to be alone with him, naked and intimately joined.

  He nipped at her lips. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Why not?” she asked breathlessly.

  He raised his head just enough to look into her eyes. “You know why.”

  “I want you, Jason. Is that wrong?”

  He made a low sound, much like a growl, and then kissed her again. This time, his kiss was different. He seemed more primal in his need, kissing her deeper, his tongue sliding along hers with long, sensual strokes. The potency of desire was consuming him, and taking her with him.

  A door slammed somewhere in the distance, but it hardly registered. Her mind and body were both completely focused on Jason.

  “Where’s that beer?”

  The voice—Matt’s—was a jolt of reality.

  They froze, lips pressed together, eyes flying open. Then, at the same moment, they moved away from each other like two bad children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

  Jason ran his hand through his hair, and muttered a curse. The crunch of Matt’s shoes on gravel indicated he was about to round the trunk. Jason reached for the beer, and Heather forced a smile.

  This wasn’t how she would have wanted their first kiss to end. Still, she had finally kissed Jason. And it had been a damned good kiss. Very fantasy worthy. She hoped he thought so, too.

  * * *

  Halftime brought with it a scurry of activity. Heather found herself sitting in the kitchen with Jennifer, Bobby’s wife. Bags of chips and empty beer cans scattered the counters. Heather took a bite of a Cheez Doodle, closed the bag, and sat it aside.

  She eyed Jennifer, who was finishing off a Dorito herself, and smiled. She was a pretty woman, blond and curvy. The type that would have made Heather insecure in her younger years. But not now. Now she was proud of who and what she had become.

  And she knew what she wanted out of life, and had done a good job of making her goals realities. Jason was the one exception.

  She had always wanted him. And he had always been beyond reach.

  Vulgar yelling came from the living room. Heather rolled her eyes. “Men.”

  Jennifer laughed, and closed up her bag of chips. “We’re outnumbered.”

  Her eyes widened in a jest. “Ya think?”

  “Mmm,” Jennifer said, sipping her beer. “It’s all good, though. I like being with Bobby.”

  One side of her mouth lifted. “Newlyweds tend to be that way.”

  “It’s not that,” Jennifer told her. “We grew up together, but…”

  Now Heather was curious. “But what?” she asked, and then realized she was being rude. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

  Jennifer gave her a friendly smile, clearly not upset. “It’s fine. It’s just a long, complicated story. The bottom line is we spent some years apart, and well, I guess you could say, rediscovered each other. I want to enjoy every moment I can with him.”

  Heather studied her a minute, shoving a lock of hair behind her ear. “So do you like football, or just being here with Bobby?”

  “Both,” she said with a smile. “I used to watch Bobby’s football games in high school and it kind of grew on me.”

  “Really?” she asked, walking to the fridge and pulling out a Coke. She held one up to Jennifer, who nodded her acceptance. “I used to watch Jason and Matt play, too. That’s how I took to liking it. I don’t remember Bobby from back then, but I’m quite a few years younger than the guys are.”

  Jennifer nodded, reaching for the can of Coke and popping the top open. “Bobby and Jason are the same age. In fact, Jason followed Bobby into the Rangers, from what I understand.”

  Heather thought back as she took a long drink. Setting her can on the counter, she said, “I don’t remember why he joined the Rangers. Just that it made me miserable.”

  “So,” Jennifer said, curiosity in her tone. “What’s the deal with you and Jason?” She smiled. “I don’t mind being nosy.”

  “Nothing,” she said, trying to seem nonchalant.

  Jennifer’s brows raised in disbelief.

  “Okay, something.” Heather made a face. “He has a problem with me being Matt’s kid sister. Says I am like a sister to him.”

  “Ah, hah,” Jennifer said, and then added nothing else.

  Heather gave her a look. “What does 'ah hah' mean?”

  Jennifer’s brow lifted. “There is only one way to handle the 'sister syndrome'.”

  Heather leaned forward eagerly. “I’m listening.”

  “You’ll have to make him think of you as a woman, not a kid. Of course, he is also probably worried about how Matt will respond.”

  Heather frowned. “I know that much.” Tell me something I don’t know, she added silently. “How, is the question.”

  “Jealousy.”

  “Huh?”

  “Make him jealous. If he really wants you—and he does, I saw how he looks at you—he’ll take the bait.”

  Heather perked up. “How does he look at me?”

  “Like he wants to have hot, wet sex with you.”

  Heather sighed wistfully. “Yeah?”

  Jennifer laughed. “Yeah.”

  But this was serious business to Heather. “I need to make this happen.”

  Jennifer eyed her with interest. “The sex or the jealousy?”

  “Both.” And so much more.

  “Okay,” Jennifer said softly, wiggled her finger at Heather so she would come closer. “There’s this charity auction…”

  * * *

  Heather stepped into her bathtub, and let out a big sigh of pleasure. All her life, her place of escape had been a bubble bath.

  Tonight, she needed escape more than ever.

  At first, Jennifer’s idea of making Jason jealous had seemed the way to go. But now, alone, thinking things through, it didn’t sit well.

  Jason was special to her.

  Playing games wasn’t her style, and certainly she had never been anything but honest with Jason. She liked what they shared. She didn’t want to change the tone of their relationship just to change the nature.

  Still, the direct approach hadn’t worked. After sharing a hot, tingle-to-your-toes kiss, he hadn’t so much as said a word to her. In fact, he had avoided her like the plague. Sinking against the tub wall and deeper into the water, she mentally replayed the party. She was certain Jason had been watching her.

  He hadn’t so easily ignored her.

  That gave her hope.

  Her eyes fluttered shut as she relived the feel of his lips pressed to hers, soft, sensual, and warm. In her mind, his mouth traveled down her neck, and she could almost feel his breath on her skin.

  She moaned softly as she imagined how it would feel to run her fingers through his hair. To have him touch her would be pure bliss. One of her hands moved up her stomach, but in her mind it was his hand. She cupped her breast, thinking of the rough, perfect texture of his hand.

  Pinching her nipple, she whimpered, calling out his name in her mind, and bringing her other hand upward. Both breasts in her hands, she kneaded them, nipples aching with cries for her touch.

  No, his touch.

  Jason’s.

  A dull ache built between her thighs, begging to have him, wanting him inside her. Her fingers touched the sensitive flesh, and her thighs
spread, knees bending above the water.

  She needed a release, and her fingers gently answered her body's cry. Images of their bodies, naked, legs entwined, drove her need. She whimpered with the thought of Jason sinking deep inside her body. And then that purposely slow first move that would open her wider, and make her arch into his body.

  He would call out her name, and she would gasp from his first hard thrust.

  Her fingers moved more fervently along her sensitive flesh, urgency growing as images of her and Jason made her hotter for reality.

  The tingling of arousal grew to the burn of pure need. Her mind raced with images of Jason naked, inside her, touching her. Her hands moved, trying to feel what he would do to her, trying to satisfy her desire for him.

  She bit her bottom lip as the build to release came upon her. Her body ached for release and with each touch of her hand she yearned for Jason.

  Tumbling over the wall of build-up, her muscles contracted in orgasm. For long moments, she tensed as pleasure rushed from her core to her limbs.

  When she finally collapsed, she whispered his name, wishing for what had never been, and hoping it would be, and what she hoped would be.

  Chapter Three

  Jason pulled his SUV into his driveway and turned off the lights. But he didn’t get out. His mind was far too focused on Heather to do anything but sit there. Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the interior lights dim. He was too busy trying to make sense of what was happening to him.

  And something was happening.

  Compliments of Heather.

  She was still in his blood, like some kind of jungle disease. Neither time nor effort lessened the impact she had on him. She had invaded his mind, body, and soul. He had thought it would be different now, years later.

  But he had thought wrong.

  The younger Heather had been impossible to ignore, with her vibrant personality and skin of ivory perfection that begged for his touch. Moving away had been the only thing that had kept him from acting on his attraction.

  Time and age should have improved his willpower.

  The reality was, maturity hadn’t done anything to improve his resistance to Heather. Nothing. Not a damned thing. If fact, he found the new, grown-up Heather devastatingly beautiful and downright tempting.

  Her power to entice him had increased, not the opposite.

  Kissing her had been like tasting the ultimate woman. Never had he been aroused so easily. The minute that sweet little tongue of hers had touched his, he had been hard as a rock.

  His eyes shut. He’d spent years wondering how she would taste. He could still taste her now. The real life experience had been addictively sweet, like the purest of honey.

  Her red hair, now long, was like a shimmering halo of silky temptation to his fingers. Her body had developed curves meant to make a man’s heart race.

  Damn, his was racing all right.

  Having those curves pressed against his body had made him want to rip her clothes off right there and then, in her brother’s driveway. Damn, how he had wanted to feel the soft silkiness of that gorgeous skin.

  If Matt hadn’t walked up when he did…

  Jason didn’t even let himself finish the thought. All he knew was by the time the game was over, he had been so on edge he was ready to rip his hair out piece by piece. Absentmindedly he ran his hand over said short hair, as if he wanted to assure he hadn’t indeed done such a thing.

  After he had kissed her, he had felt guilty as hell. Matt trusted him like a brother. Jason knew even as he was kissing Heather how wrong it was. At the time, he had silently reasoned with himself. Just one kiss wouldn’t hurt. In fact, it might end his years of pining.

  Instead it had fueled his desire for her.

  He had become completely lost in her. He pounded the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. If Matt would have caught them…he’d have lost his best friend. Matt would think he was about as good as dog shit.

  And damn it, that about fit how he felt. Like dog shit.

  Heather was like a sister to him. What right did he have to kiss her? Cursing softly, he knew damned well he had to talk to her. They were going to be bumping into each other in social settings. It was inevitable. That meant they needed to set some ground rules.

  He knew she was staying in the house that used to be Old Lady Walker’s. Jason had heard Matt teasing about it being haunted. Turning the key to the ignition, he made his decision.

  He had to talk with her tonight.

  * * *

  Heather’s eyes popped open at the weird scratching sound.

  The bath water was still warm, her mind relaxed, but her heart was racing. There it was again. Could it be a tree on the bedroom window?

  Of course it was. “Damn it,” she muttered, and stood up, water dripping down her body. “Matt and his damn ghost stories.”

  She grabbed a towel, stepping out of the tub and drying off. As she pushed an arm through her white silk robe, she heard the noise again.

  For an instant, she froze, listening, heart thrumming in her chest. Several seconds passed, and she heard nothing. She tried to laugh at herself as she pulled the robe on fully and tied it around her waist.

  With trepidation, she stepped gingerly towards the bedroom. The lights were out. Hadn’t they been on? Her hands slid to the wall, eager to get to the switch, but she couldn’t find it.

  “Damn, damn, damn,” she muttered, feeling around more urgently for the switch.

  That was when her eyes caught on a flash at the window. No more like a shadow. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  What now? Think, think, think. The phone. Yes. The phone. Braving the darkness despite the way it gave her the creeps, she inched towards the phone. Just as she was reaching for the receiver, she heard the doorbell.

  Her brows dipped. No ghost or bad guy rang the doorbell. Okay, so bad guys might. She looked for a weapon as she grabbed for the phone again.

  She made a disgusted sound. It wasn’t in the cradle. Carrying off the cordless was a bad habit. She heard the doorbell again. Her teeth worried her bottom lip. It could be Matt. If it was, she wanted him inside the house, protecting her. That’s what big brothers were for. Scaring you, and then making you feel better.

  But what if it wasn’t Matt?

  Her cell was in her purse by the door.

  Padding her bare feet across the carpet, she looked for a weapon. She found it conveniently sitting next to her purse on the hall table.

  Her visitor knocked as she fumbled for her cell phone. “Who’s there?” she yelled, umbrella in her hand.

  “It’s me, Heather.”

  She stopped looking for her phone. “Jason?”

  “Yeah,” he said, with irritation evident even through the thick wood of the door. “How long are you going to leave me standing out here?”

  It really was him. Relief washed over her. Safe. She was safe. She dropped her purse on the table, and flung the door open. Stepping towards him, she didn’t stop until she was flat against his chest.

  Her breath was uneven, her words a bit shaky. “Oh, thank God you’re here!”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking behind her, tensions suddenly evident in his big body.

  Her palms flattened on his chest, as she tilted her chin upward to look at him. “Someone was outside my window.”

  His expression didn’t change. Calmly, he asked, “Did you call the police?”

  “No, my phone,” she knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t restrain her mouth, “it wasn’t charged, and I couldn’t find my cell, and then you showed up.”

  He looked down at his feet. She had dropped the umbrella to grab him. “And the umbrella was supposed to do what?”

  “To poke the bad guy, of course,” she said frowning up at him. “That thing is sharp at the end.”

  He laughed.

  “Or I could have hit them with it.”

  He smiled. “I see.”

  Realizing it did sound silly, sh
e laughed as well. It caused enough movement that the front of her robe fell open. The sash loosened and the silk folds slipped downward. Now open to the waist, her chest was exposed. She felt the cool air hit her nipples, followed immediately by the heat of his eyes.

  She stood there, feeling like a fool, unmoving, making no effort to cover herself. The shock of the exposure along with the potential prowler or a ghost had her brain in overload. This was not the way she wanted Jason to see her naked the first time.

  He seemed to realize her need for assistance. He reached down and pulled the fabric over her breasts. Gentleman that he was, he didn’t say a word.

  Softly, as if trying to be discreet, he cleared his throat before speaking. It seemed as if he couldn’t quite find his voice. “I’ll go check around the house. You go inside and lock the door until I tell you otherwise.”

  “But what if someone’s inside? I heard something.”

  “What did you hear?” he asked, his voice monotone, giving no hint as to how he might feel about just seeing her bare breasts.

  “A scratching sound.” He arched his brow as if questioning her. “I did! Several times.”

  He stared at her, his eyes intense, dark, and unreadable. “Have you been talking to Matt?”

  She glared at him. Yes! “Matt has nothing to do with this. Give me some credit for knowing when I hear a noise or not.”

  He studying her a moment, and then said, “I’ll check inside first. Where did you hear the noise?”

  “In the bedroom.”

  Chapter Four

  Heather started following Jason into the house. He turned and looked at her. “Stay here.”

  “Are you kidding?” she asked in complete disbelief. “I saw someone outside my window. I’m not staying out here alone.”

  There was a hint of irritation in his voice, and far too much authority. “Heather—“

  She pointed at him. “Don’t take that tone. I’m going with you. No way am I staying out here.”

  Definite frustration showed in his face. He leaned down towards her ear. Then he half mumbled, “You are the most difficult woman I have ever known.” More directly he added, “Stay just inside the door.”