by Mari Carr
Lauren followed her words with a playful laugh, her way of making everything she said sound like a joke instead of the insult she’d definitely intended.
“Are you bringing Scott home, Jake?” Lauren made it sound like they all lived together.
Jake nodded. “Yeah. We’re leaving in a few minutes.”
“Cool. We’ll make an extra margarita for you.”
Jake shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m not interested in crashing girls’ night.”
“Don’t be silly.” Lauren put her hand on Jake’s shoulder, leaning forward slightly in a way that put his eyes right at cleavage level. “Girls’ night is always more fun with you there.”
Hope’s hands curled into fists. She wasn’t a violent person by nature. Actually, she’d never hit another living soul in her life, but damn if she wasn’t sitting there imagining herself ripping out big chunks of Lauren’s bleached blonde hair.
Lauren straightened when the girl behind the counter called out her name. “There’s my pizza. Be sure not to keep Hope out too late, Jake. I’ll see you later.”
“See you,” he said, waving as she left.
It was irrational to be upset that Jake was going to see Lauren later. He wasn’t her boyfriend, and it wasn’t like she didn’t know he got around.
But there was something about the idea that he’d actually done a girls’ night with Lauren that got under her skin. Lauren was a nasty cow and anyone with half a brain could see that. The fact that Jake was just like every other man in the arcade—seeing nothing more than the surface when it came to Lauren—made Hope wonder if she should let things go any farther than they already had.
Then she had another disquieting thought.
Had Lauren and Jake slept together?
Because that would be a deal breaker for her.
For a split second, she considered asking. But she didn’t.
She couldn’t.
Knowing Jake had been with Lauren would keep Hope away. She knew that. Knew it so well, that she decided she didn’t want to know.
Because she didn’t want to stay away from him.
“Where were we?” Jake said, ready to pick up where they’d left off in their previous conversation.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say her knee was over his shoulder and his mouth was on her, but the moment had passed.
Ada had commented that Hope was losing perspective when it came to Jake and what she would get from him. Her sudden jealousy had her thinking her friend was right.
“I’m afraid I should get home. I have lesson plans to write and George needs a bath.”
“Yeah. I promised to have Scott home early too.”
Hope pretended it didn’t bother her that he suddenly seemed to be in a hurry to leave.
Had he just gotten a better offer for the night?
From Lauren?
“Friday night,” he said as they stood up.
“What?”
“Get a sitter for Friday night.”
If she’d had a brain in her head, she would have said no.
Sadly…her skull was currently vacant.
“Okay.”
“It’s my turn to cook for you. Come to my place. Six o’clock.”
“Your apartment above the fire station?”
He nodded. “And, Hope.”
“Yeah?”
“Bring your new vibrator. I’m going to teach you how to use it.”
Chapter 6
Jake had just finished buttoning his shirt when he heard a knock on the door. A glance at the clock on his nightstand said it was six on the dot.
Scarlett had called this morning to ask him a question about the tee-ball schedule, and she’d mentioned that George and Scott were having a sleepover tonight. Dear old stepmom didn’t realize she’d made his day.
Hope was childless for the entire night and he intended to put that time to good use.
He’d jacked off in the shower while getting ready, hoping that would take the edge off.
He wasn’t having sex with Hope tonight.
He’d repeated those words to himself no less than twelve thousand times today.
Every minute he spent with her convinced him more and more that she was something special. Which meant he had to proceed with caution.
They were still too early in the game for him to show her what lived beneath his belt. So until he was certain she felt the same way about him, he would have to move slowly, seduce her in degrees until she wanted him badly enough, she wouldn’t run away when she saw…the big hose.
Jake walked down the hallway to the front door. His apartment was small, occupying about two-thirds of the second floor of the station. Across the hall from his entrance was a large storage area with most of the fire equipment and the top half of the pole he’d invited Hope to slide down the first day they’d met.
A pole she was looking at when he opened the door. “Change your mind?”
She turned around, shaking her head quickly. “Nope. I’m good.”
Jake stepped back so she could walk in and enjoyed the look of delight on her face when she spotted his dinner setup.
“A picnic?”
He’d pushed back the furniture in the living room and spread out a blanket. Then he’d borrowed his mom’s picnic basket to add to the effect. It looked pretty inviting, if he did say so himself.
“I considered walking with you to the park with this whole setup, but I didn’t want us to get arrested for public indecency. There’s no way I’m keeping my hands off you while we eat.”
That sweet blush that turned him on heated her cheeks.
“Jake,” she started.
“We’re in private, per your deal.” It had bothered him when she’d asked him not to kiss her or hold her hand in public. Then he’d considered everything Hope had likely heard about him from the town gossips. She hadn’t dated since George was born and she was being careful. The more he thought about that, the more he respected it.
He wished his parents had been a little—okay, a lot—more circumspect when bringing their revolving door of lovers through his childhood homes. While Dad had more wives, his mom had done her fair share of dating after the divorce, auditioning quite a few “uncles” before deciding Harold could support her the way she wanted—with a new car every few years and diamonds for Christmas.
Hope was being careful with George’s feelings and Jake liked that. Liked that she was such a good mom.
“And since there’s no one here…” He pressed her back against the door and kissed her the way he’d wanted to ever since the other night on her couch. It was a long, deep, hot kiss, their tongues touching, tasting, as his hands explored under her shirt.
Hope twisted her head briefly to catch her breath. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Life’s too short not to reach out and grab what you want.” Jake lived by those words, always had. Until her, what he’d wanted had always been merely physical, sexual.
Now he wanted a hell of a lot more.
His fingers grazed her nipples. Even covered by the lace of her bra, he could tell they were hard. “You know, I was thinking…”
“Oh, yeah?” Her hands were wrapped around his neck, the position lifting her shirt just enough to give him a peek at her trim waist.
“I think we should do this picnic topless.”
She laughed, clearly thinking he was joking.
He wasn’t.
“Jake. I’m not going to sit here and eat…” She paused.
“Fried chicken,” he supplied.
“Without a shirt on.”
“Your bra is going too.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” he asked, perfectly aware that all of this was new to Hope. Her sexual experiences were shockingly few. But he’d been on the receiving end of too many heated looks from her not to know she was more than ready to expand on her knowledge.
She lifted one shoulder. “Because it’s light in here. Y
ou’d see,” she sighed, “too much.”
Jake gave her a wink. “That’s kind of the point.” Then he recalled the other night on the couch. The room had been dark, the only light provided by the TV. And even with that, they’d hidden all the naked parts under a blanket.
“I, um…” Hope ran her hand absentmindedly over her stomach.
“What’s holding you back?”
“I have stretch marks. And a scar. C-section.” She gave him a rueful grin as she pointed to herself. “Narrow hips.”
So she was self-conscious, more than shy. He could work with that.
Jake reached for the buttons on his own shirt, slipping them one by one as she watched. “You’re not the only one with scars and you won’t be the only one without a shirt on.”
She bit her lower lip, her gaze glued to his chest as he continued popping buttons free. Once he was done, he slid the cotton over his shoulders and dropped the shirt to the floor.
“Wow,” she mouthed.
Jake worked out. Probably more than he needed to. There was a makeshift gym in a back room of the station. Lifting weights made him better at his job. Some of the equipment as well as the force it took to control the hoses required a certain level of strength.
He was the only full-time firefighter in Bootlick, Kansas. Even so, it wasn’t like he was seeing a lot of action—not even when he considered the times he ran EMT calls—so he killed a lot of down time working out.
And while he wasn’t proud of it, Jake had just enough vanity that he liked her response to seeing him shirtless.
“You can touch it,” he teased.
Hope rolled her eyes at him in a way he found adorable. He’d never been with a woman who got his sense of humor. Jake liked making Hope laugh as much as he liked turning her on.
She reached out and ran her fingers in a triangle pattern—from nipple to nipple then down to his navel. “I don’t see any scars,” she said at last, her voice breathy, hungry.
His shirt was staying off the rest of the night.
Jake turned his back to her, glancing over his right shoulder to point out the scar. “I was clearcutting some burned trees after a fire. One of the smaller ones fell when I was cutting down a big one. A branch caught me. Twenty-seven stitches.”
Hope ran her fingers over the scar. “Looks like it was a painful cut.”
He shrugged. “They gave me some pretty good drugs at the hospital. Happened a few years ago, so it’s fading.”
He was touched when she leaned forward, ran her fingers over it, then placed a kiss on it. Jake could imagine her doing the same whenever George got a boo-boo.
He twisted back around. “I showed you mine.”
Hope blew out a shaky breath but didn’t resist when he lifted her shirt and pulled it off. She was wearing a sexy red lacy bra—one he hoped she’d put on just for him. Her hands flew up to cover herself, so he grasped her wrists tugging them down.
“No fair hiding.”
Her blush wasn’t just limited to her face. The pink started creeping down her neck, even tinging the tops of her breasts.
“You’re beautiful, Hope.” Jake had told other women that in the past, too many to count, but none of them held a candle to Hope.
“I bet you say that to all the girls.”
Of course, she called him on it. She had a way of reminding both of them of his reputation—well-earned—as a playboy. He was starting to wonder if some of her comments were more for her than for him. Sometimes it felt like she was trying to find a way to either push him away or discover a means of resisting him herself.
Jake didn’t have a leg to stand on in that argument, so he changed the subject. “I don’t see a scar.”
She shifted back a few inches, then tugged the top of her jeans down, lower than he would have thought she’d be willing to do. There, at the base of her stomach, was a thin, pink horizontal line. “Mine’s fading too,” she said. “Just not as fast as I’d like.”
He reached out and ran his finger over it, just as she’d done with his scar. She shivered lightly.
Jake moved closer, placing his lips against her ear as he whispered, “I’ll kiss it later.”
His promise provoked a breathy laugh from her. “Should we eat?”
Hope was trying to distract him with food.
“We will. As soon as you’re topless.”
She frowned. “I am.”
He ran his finger under one strap of her bra. “Pretty as this is, it’s gotta go, sweetheart.”
She raised her hands again, cupping her breasts to hide them.
“Can’t suck on those sweet nipples of yours if I can’t get to them.” And then, because he was starting to understand Hope and what made her tick, he laid down a more playful card. “Chicken?”
Her eyes narrowed and her hands lowered. “No.”
“Good.” Jake reached around her with one hand and unsnapped her bra with an accomplished flick.
“I don’t want to think about how quickly you just did that.”
He chuckled. “Probably best if you don’t.”
Her hands had returned to the bra, holding the lace in place.
“Put your hands down by your side, Hope. I want to see you.”
Her hands were trembling slightly, but she did as he asked, no longer resisting as he slid the lace away, dropping the bra to the floor to join their shirts.
“Damn,” Jake muttered. Hope’s tits were full, firm, with big brown nipples. “Sweetheart, I…”
He didn’t waste the breath warning her before he lowered his head and took one of her tight nipples into his mouth, sucking hard.
Her hands flew to his hair. “Jake,” she cried. “God, that feels so good.”
He drew on that nipple a few more times before turning to give the other the same attention. Then he lifted his head and kissed her again. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her soft cries, her hands running through his hair, and then the sweet, innocent way she lowered them and touched his chest—as if she wanted to dig her nails in.
This was going too fast. He had a game plan for tonight and if he wasn’t careful, he’d fuck it up within the first ten minutes. Jake forced himself to step away. Hope tried to follow him, clinging to his shoulders.
“The chicken is going to be cold,” he said, his voice husky. He’d never lost control with a woman, but he’d also never felt a pull this hard.
Hope took several deep breaths, nodding, though he could see she was struggling as much as he was to get her desires under control. “Okay.”
Jake took her hand and led her to the blanket. They both sat down and some of Hope’s self-consciousness returned as she tried to shield her breasts with one arm.
“Leave your hands down, Hope, or I’ll tie them behind your back.”
She grinned, the threat bouncing off her—even though he noticed she lowered her arm. “That might make it hard for me to eat.”
He shook his head. “I’d feed you. Actually, I might feed you anyway.”
She gave him a heated look that said the idea of that appealed to her. He tucked that information away for later.
Reaching into the basket, Jake pulled out the bucket of chicken.
“I thought you were cooking for me.”
He put a paper plate in front of both of them, placing a leg and breast on both. “Trust me. The colonel does chicken a lot better than I do.” He continued pulling out the little tubs of slaw and beans he’d picked up at KFC. Then he cracked open a couple of Coronas, even adding the limes he’d remembered to slice up earlier.
“Classy,” she teased.
Her eyes widened when he pulled out a box of biscuits and fries. “Oh my God. This is a feast, Jake. It’s way too much food for just the two of us.”
He shrugged. “It’ll taste just as good as leftovers, and I have a feeling we’re going to work up an appetite later. Might need a midnight snack.”
“Midnight, huh?”
He nodded. “Yep.”
&nbs
p; “That’s kind of late.”
“Won’t matter. You’re spending the night. I happen to know George is having a sleepover with Scott.”
“I didn’t pack my toothbrush. Or pajamas.”
Jake reached out, unable to resist, and ran his finger over the top of one of her tits, giving the nipple a quick pinch. “You’re not going to need pajamas. Did you remember to bring your vibrator?”
The way she snuck a quick glance at the purse she’d dropped by the door was all the answer he needed. “Good girl.”
She laughed and the two of them dug into the food. Jake was delighted to discover she was as big a fan of a bucket of chicken as he was. As they ate, they both indulged in lingering touches and coleslaw-flavored kisses.
“I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve had KFC. Whenever we do the fast-food splurge, George wants Happy Meals.” She crinkled her nose, letting him know her opinion of that.
“I’ll bring a bucket by one day and we can show him the error of his ways.”
“Sounds like an awesome plan,” she said, and he liked how easily she’d agreed to another date.
Once they’d finished eating, Hope helped him pack up what was left and put it in the fridge.
“Want a tour of my apartment?” Jake asked.
“The whole place? Or just your bedroom?” She ran her hand over his chest, placing a kiss on one of his pecs, letting him know which tour she preferred.
“Dammit, sweetheart. You make it really hard for me to take things slow.”
She gave him a look that said slow was the last thing on her mind. “You’re the one who insisted on a topless picnic.”
“Touché. Grab that purse of yours. We’re moving this party to the bedroom.”
Jake tried not to laugh at how quickly she retrieved her purse.
“In a hurry?” he teased.
“Jake, it’s been six years. What do you think?”
He wasn’t sure how to reply to that. He knew exactly what she wanted from him.
Hell, he suspected it was his reputation that had gotten his foot in the door with her. Hope was ready to expand her sexual repertoire and who better to reinitiate her than the town bad boy. Problem was…she didn’t know exactly who—and what—she was inviting to her bed. She wasn’t ready for that.