Always on My Mind (12 page)

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Authors: Jill Shalvis

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women, #Erotica

BOOK: Always on My Mind
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Refusing to be left behind, she simply stepped close and got on the bike behind him. She felt him exhale deeply, but before he could make her get off, she slid her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his back.

And that was absolutely the undoing of the last of her anger because even though he’d showered, he still smelled faintly like smoke, and the reminder of what he did every single day only made her want him all the more.

“Leah.” Gruff. Pissed. His muscles flexed beneath her cheek but she held on, her palms flat against his abs. A wordless response rumbled in his chest—most likely an oath—and then he was reaching up and pulling off his helmet, which he handed back to her.

“No,” she said. “I’m not taking your helmet—”

“Wear it or get off.”

She knew how to pick her battles so she took off her baseball cap, grabbed the helmet, and pulled it down over her head.

“Hold on,” he said.

And then the bike leaped to life beneath his very capable hands. So she did as he’d ordered.

She held on…

I
n five minutes, Leah and Jack were out on the highway, going fast enough to make her heart pound as they leaned into the S-turns.

Or maybe that was from being plastered up against his back, her legs spread by his hips, every inch of her in contact with his body.

And his body. Holy cow. How had she never been affected by how tough and built he was? Combined with the rumble of the horsepower beneath her, his body had her in a state that only got more and more pronounced the higher they climbed.

There was a cliff on their right now, where far below the Pacific Ocean pitched and rolled, fog lingering in long, silver fingers on the frothy water. The Olympic Mountains stood on their left, tall, majestic, rugged, and wearing their pretty fall colors.

Ahead of them, the road wound its narrow way upward, and Jack steered into the sharp curves. A sign warned them to keep a lookout for unexpected animal crossings. Out here, that could mean deer, bears, anything really. But nothing crossed their path at all, and Leah could feel some of the tension slowly leave Jack.

Half an hour later, the sun was much higher in the sky, and they were up near Beaut Point. A fitting place, as Jack had been the first person to ever bring her here.

She’d been in eighth grade, and the day had sucked. In the girls’ locker room after PE, she’d realized someone had hidden her clothes. Standing there in nothing but her undies, the five mean girls who always made her life a living hell had surrounded her. She’d been tall even back then and had developed breasts early, which she’d hated, just two more ways in which she’d been different from everyone else. She could still feel the heat of embarrassment and shame standing there nearly naked as one of the girls had shoved her.

Leah’d gone down on her ass. Before she could scramble back up again, there’d been the sound of the door slamming open, and the girls had scattered.

And then a shirt had been tossed over her.

When she’d looked up, Jack had stood there, shirtless, scowling at her. “I’ve told you,” he’d said. “Just hit one, any one of them,
hard
. One time is all you need.”

The next time the girls had surrounded her in the locker room, she’d done just that.

And had gotten suspended for a week.

But the punishment from her father had been far worse. He’d yelled and screamed at her until her ears had been ringing. She’d dared to interrupt the tirade, attempting to tell him that this wasn’t her fault, and he’d slapped her.

Later that next night when she’d crawled out of her bedroom window and into Jack’s, he’d been waiting for her. They’d sneaked into his garage and “borrowed” his mom’s car. They’d come here and then had climbed down to the mouth of the caves and sat watching the stars swirl in the sky far above.

It still ranked as the best night of her teenage years.

Now Jack stopped the bike so they were overlooking the ocean far below. He turned off the engine, and they sat there a moment, still. Not speaking.

Hell, Leah was hardly breathing.

Still locked around Jack like white on rice, she didn’t want to break the spell. Right now, right here in this moment, she wasn’t worried about her grandma. About money. About the bakery. About her future and what the hell she was going to screw up next. She wasn’t worried about anything, in fact. She felt…safe. And maybe content.

Although maybe “content” wasn’t quite right, since her entire body was humming with a sort of anticipation and heat that spoke of the very opposite of content.

She was aroused.

Not sure exactly what Jack was feeling, she started to get off the bike, but he took one of his hands from the handlebars and gently squeezed her fingers, where they were resting low on his abs. “We have a rule in place,” he said.

Right. No one gets hurt because this wasn’t real. “Then why did you kiss me like that? Like you wanted me so badly you couldn’t help yourself?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” he said.

“We’ve managed to not ruin anything so far.” She pulled off the helmet and set it behind her. “And we’ve done some pretty stupid stuff.”

“Not yet, we haven’t.”

Her arms went around him again, flattening her hands on his abs, which clenched. Lightly, she let her fingers drift up and down. “I know you, Jack,” she murmured. “I know what you need right now.”

He let out a long breath when her hands drifted up high on his chest, and then low again, just to the loose waistband of his low-riding jeans.

“Aren’t you even the slightest bit curious?” she wondered. “To see what it’d be like between us?”

He made a very male sound, one that told her he’d given it more than a passing thought.

“It’d make our lie to your mom half true,” she said.


Our
lie?” he asked so dryly that she laughed.

“You know what I mean.”

He caught her wandering fingers in his and brought their joined hands up to his mouth, brushing his lips against her knuckles. “I have another rule.”

She dropped her head to his back and laughed again. “Mr. Control. Fine. What’s this new rule?”

“No promises.”

Her heart caught. Once, a long time ago, she’d made him that promise, and she’d broken it. She’d never let herself believe that it had really mattered to him, but she could admit that he had reason to doubt her. “I’m good with no promises.”

“Yes,” he said. “You are.”

Ouch. “I have a rule too,” she said evenly, pulling her hands back and sliding off the bike.

He cocked his head, waiting.

“If there are no promises, at least keep your…options from your mom.”

“Options?”

“Yeah. I’m not going to go to all this trouble only to have the whole thing messed up by one of your blond bimbos.”

She’d expected him to smile. He didn’t. “Who?” he said instead. “Who are your options?”

She shivered at his commanding tone. Sexy, in a caveman sort of way. “Maybe I have several.”

He just leveled her with a narrow-eyed, steely stare and waited her out.

“Fine,” she said, caving like a cheap suitcase. “I don’t have any. Happy now?”

“I’m something, but happy isn’t it.” He studied her a moment longer, and she returned the favor. The exhaustion was shadowing his eyes. There was a rough, two-day growth on his square jaw and strain in those broad shoulders.

Drawn to him like a moth to the flame, she held out her hand to him. Without hesitation, he put his in hers, letting her pull him off the bike.

They climbed down to the caves and sat there, completely alone, watching the morning sun shimmer on the water three hundred feet below as it crashed into the rocky shore.

“Yes,” he finally said, startling her.

“Yes what?”

Turning his head from the water, he looked at her, his eyes filled with enough heat to blow her hair back. “Oh,” she breathed, and her nipples hardened. “You mean…” Suddenly her mouth was dry, and all she could do was swallow hard. “Here?”

“You change your mind already? After all the convincing arguments and fact citing?”

No. Hell no, she hadn’t changed her mind. This had been her idea, after all. Except…dammit. Some of that same old panic she’d felt that night long ago flooded her now.

Because this wasn’t just any guy.

It was Jack, and expectations were at a lifetime high, at least for her. What if she didn’t do it for him? What if she wasn’t everything he needed? What if she screwed this up? “What if it doesn’t work?” she whispered.

“What if what doesn’t work?”

Not willing to let him see her fears, she went on the offensive. “Um…what if we don’t turn each other on?”

He blinked, and she realized he was truly flummoxed by this question. Not getting turned on had never occurred to him. If this wasn’t so deadly serious, she’d have laughed because he was such a guy.

“You get naked first,” she decided.

“Why?”

Her heart was pounding, and her palms were slick with nerves, but she gave him a cool smile. “Well, what if you’re ugly beneath all those clothes? I might have no choice but to rethink my options.”

He narrowed his eyes again. “New rule.”

“Oh my God. Now? You want to talk about your rules now? I don’t want to discuss your other women right now, if you don’t mind.”

“No others,” he said. “Not for me, and not for you. No options, period.”

Her heart was at stroke level now. “So…an exclusive pretend relationship.”

“That’s right,” he said, eyes surprisingly serious. “Tell me we have a deal, Leah.”

This wasn’t exactly a hardship for her, not that she was going to say so. “Deal.”

He paused. “That felt too easy.”

She smiled, trying to look innocent. Because he was getting off topic. And besides, they both knew he wasn’t ugly beneath his clothes. He was perfect. Not wanting to lose control of this situation, she rose to her feet and pulled off her sweater.

He watched her, not moving a single, big muscle.

“Well?” she said.

“Well what?”

“Are you turned on?”

“Leah, I’ve been turned on since I kissed you over a week ago on the beach. But—”

“No. No more buts,” she said quickly and kicked off the boots she’d gotten in Amsterdam, trying to look sexy while doing it.

Problem was, he still wasn’t looking impressed, so she pulled off her tank top and then hesitated. She hadn’t dressed for seduction, hadn’t realized…and she was wearing a plain cotton, black sports bra that covered her more than a bathing suit would.

Worse, Jack didn’t appear overcome with lust.

“Now you,” she said desperately. “You have to lose something.”

“But you’re not finished.” He leaned back on his elbows, all long, sprawled-out grace. The caged leopard at rest…

Good Lord. “Fine.” She shoved off her jeans. Dammit. To go with her sports bra, her panties were laundry day panties, faded yellow, and worse, they had “Thursday” printed across the butt.

It was Sunday.

Jack grinned.

“This isn’t supposed to be funny.” Mad, she bent over, reaching for her tank top, determined to get dressed again and somehow find her dignity while she was at it.

Somehow.

But Jack, moving silent and fast as a wild cat would have, stepped up behind her.

“Forget it, Jack—”

“Shh.” With his big body snug at her back, his hands went to her hips, holding her in place.

She froze, thinking he’d heard or seen someone—but he didn’t move. “What are you doing?” she hissed.

“I like this position.”

Straightening up, she tried to push free, but he held her still, his hands sliding up from her hips to her breasts, his quick, clever thumbs rasping over her nipples. “And this one,” he said low and husky. “I really like this position too.”

He was hard—she could feel him pressing into her—and that went a long way toward soothing her bruised ego. Turning in the circle of his arms, she faced him so her breasts smashed into his chest.

“And this one,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to cup and squeeze her ass.

The rest of her embarrassment and anger dissolved, and she felt a reluctant smile curve her mouth. “I’m getting the idea you like all the positions.”

“Every single one,” he assured her.

A
round them, the day went on. Insects buzzed. The sun warmed. The wind, what there was of it, stayed outside the cave rustling only the very tips of the two-hundred-foot-tall pines surrounding them. The sounds were as familiar to Leah as her own breathing and brought comfort.

The man in front of her had always brought comfort too. But now, in this moment, he brought something entirely different.

Holding her gaze, Jack stroked a strand of hair off her forehead. “Still with me?”

“Yes,” she said with far more confidence than she really felt.

Seeing right through her, he smiled. “We’re going to do this, Leah,” he said calmly. “We’re going to take one for the team.”

Oh God.
Yes
. It was what she wanted, desperately. But…had she coerced him into it? Into wanting her?

Of course she had.

If only she wasn’t standing there in her plain cotton underwear. The
least
she could’ve done was arm herself with something really silky and lacy. No, wait. Armor. Yeah, armor would have been perfect. Something to protect her heart—

“I want you, Leah.”

Some of her doubt must have still been visible because he cupped her jaw and met her gaze. “I want you,” he repeated softly, his fingers sliding into her hair.

The words and his voice melted her. It was just that simple for him, she realized, as he stared her down, letting her see the hunger in his gaze. It’d been a long time since he’d looked at her like that. She’d have liked to savor it, but she couldn’t resist the promise in every line of his body.

“You want me too,” he said. “Bad.”

She held the eye contact, trying to outlast him, but she was losing the battle and he knew it. His slow smile said so.

Yeah. She wanted him.

Bad.

He was looking at her with the absolute confidence he always seemed to carry. It might have been infuriating if she had room for anything but the need. The desperate need. But… “Here?” She looked around them. “Now?” The cave was secluded, and the area around it completely deserted. Their only company was the sun slanting through the trees, dappling the forest floor with dotted patches of shade. There were a few bees and other various insects, and hopefully no bears, but…

“Here,” Jack said. “Now.” He backed her to a huge, ancient wall of rock, trapping her there with a hand on either side of her face. “This was your idea,” he reminded her. “And, as it turns out, a really good one.” Showing none of his earlier resistance and certainly no mercy, he pressed into her, caressing her body with big, sure hands. “You’re wet,” he murmured with a hint of naughty accusation as his hand moved between her thighs.

“It’s from when I was thinking about my options,” she said.

He slid her a look as he let a finger stroke over her slowly. Purposefully. “Is that right?”

“A-absolutely.”

“So it’s not for me at all, is that what you’re saying?” One of his long, callused fingers played with the edge of her panties, and she couldn’t breathe for the need.

“N-nope,” she managed.

“Liar.” Then he laughed softly. Cocky. The bastard. His hand continued its wonderful torture, and she strained closer for more.

He’d never touched her like this before, never, and yet her body quivered as if it were recognizing a long-lost lover’s touch. And far before it seemed possible, he had her writhing against him, breathing unevenly and desperate. “How,” she managed, unable to get the rest out.
How did he know how to drive her crazy?

He trailed his mouth along her jawline to her ear. “You’re good at hiding,” he murmured, his voice low and serious, no trace of teasing in it now as he lightly ran the pad of his finger just beneath her panties.

So close to where she needed him.

And yet so far…

“But your eyes,” he went on. “They don’t hide a thing, not from me. Neither does your body.”

Had anyone ever known her so well? It was both a terror that he did, and a relief. She could let go, forget, forget everything but this. Her hands fisted in his hair and pulled until his mouth was a breath from hers. “Now,” she said, hearing the desperation in her voice. “You said
now
.” She pushed his shirt up his chest. It was a glorious chest, and her mouth watered with the need to lick him from sternum to his low-riding jeans waistband.

He took over before she could, tugging his shirt off over his head in that one smooth motion that guys always make look so easy, and her breath caught. He was all smooth, hard muscle, in perfect proportion.

He tossed the shirt behind him and reached for her. She pulled him in, a little clumsy and a lot eager, kissing him with all the pent-up frustration that the uncertainty and anxiety of being back in Lucky Harbor had brought. She opened for him, pressing closer, harder, kissing him with everything she had.

He let her be the aggressor a moment, stroking her back, her hips, teasing her by slowly stroking his fingers lightly down her ribs and stomach, the rough pads of his fingers drawing goose bumps to her skin. Grasping her bra, she began to tug it over her head, but he took control then too, pushing her hands away to do the job himself.

She watched his eyes as he tossed her bra the same way he’d tossed his shirt, watched as he stroked her bare breasts with one hand, the other sliding beneath her panties. She moaned at the contact, which made him let out a very male sound of pleasure.

Then he dropped to his knees in front of her and dragged her panties down her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his hot gaze.

“Jack,” she murmured.

He scraped his teeth gently across her hip bones before moving lower. “Too late to run,” he said, and stroked his fingers over her until she trembled. Then he leaned in and put his mouth on her.

Her fingers tangled in his silky hair as he took her, not with the same untamed ferocity that she’d kissed him with, but a doggedly patient precision that told her how much her pleasure meant to him. He found her rhythm with shocking ease and settled in, and suddenly the game was no longer a game at all, but something much more personal.

And satisfying.

When she came and her legs collapsed, he caught her.

“Now you,” she managed. “Take off your pants.” Without waiting for him, she tried to do it herself.

“Easy,” he murmured, his large hands brushing hers aside to free himself.

Her breath caught again. She couldn’t help it; he was so perfectly, beautifully made. “I don’t have a condom,” she breathed, disappointment a physical ache.

He pulled one from his wallet and she nearly whimpered in relief. Spreading his shirt on the ground, he lowered her onto it, following her down, moving over her, running hot, open-mouthed kisses over her body until she could have instantly combusted. “Jack.”

He slid nine inches of perfection inside of her, and she did combust then, crying out, rocking into him as she came again. “Oh my God,” she managed. “Did you feel that?”

“Leah, you’re all I feel.”

Undone by him, wanting to drive him as crazy as he’d driven her, she lifted her hips so he could sink in even deeper.

He groaned. “Do that again.”

When she did, he dropped his head back, throat and shoulders corded tight, pleasure etched in every line of his face. “Oh fuck, yeah.” With surprising gentleness, he fisted his hand in her hair and tugged so she was looking directly into his eyes, which had gone dark with passion.

Her body throbbed, and unbelievably, the heat started to build within her again. “Jack.”

He answered by thrusting into her hard and lowering his mouth to hers. “Right here.”

Her nails dug into his skin as he moved; she couldn’t help it. And staring into his eyes, she let him drive her right over the edge. Again. This time she wasn’t alone; they came together with shuddering impact. It was the single most erotic, intimate moment they’d ever shared.

She came back to herself slowly, realizing she was plastered all over him. The sun was shining into the cave as Jack pulled her in closer, nuzzling at her temple, apparently perfectly content to lay with her in the morning sun.

He didn’t move or speak. But after a while she was afraid she might be coming off as too clingy, so she tried to separate herself, but he tightened his grip.

“Not yet,” he murmured.

Leah dropped her head to his shoulder and tried not to put too much into the fact that having sex with Jack had been better than every other experience of her life.

Combined.

  

 

Jack spent the rest of the day with Ronald going over the open fire reports.

Actually, that wasn’t true. He spent the day lost in fantasies involving a naked Leah on a mountaintop…

But in between replaying that over and over in his head, he managed to do some work. In the afternoon, the station got a call saying a woman was reporting that she had a garter snake in her house, and they needed to come get it out. Jack, as the head of station, told dispatch to tell her that unless it was an emergency, they didn’t remove snakes from homes. He referred her to animal control. He hung up and met Ronald’s wide grin. “What?”

“You turned away a damsel in distress.”

“Animal control handles snakes.”

Ronald just kept grinning.

“It’s their job.”

“Uh-huh,” Ronald said, sounding hugely amused. “Or…you hate snakes.”

Jack rolled his shoulders because he would swear he could feel a snake crawling over him right now. It’d been twenty-something years since it’d happened but it still made him shudder. “Me hating snakes has nothing to do with it.”

“I remember your dad telling me a story about a garden snake that got into your bedroom. It crawled through your bedroom window and dropped into your bed. You woke up with it on you. After that, you slept in your parents’ bed for a month.”

“I was seven.”

Ronald just cracked up.

Two minutes later, another call came in, direct to Ronald’s line, which he answered on speaker.

It was the mayor. “Listen, I need you to do me a favor. My neighbor is calling me at the office. She’s got this snake in her house, and I can’t get away to go help her out.”

Ronald was still grinning widely when he looked at Jack as he answered. “She called you about a snake?”

The mayor blew out a breath. “Listen, she’s new. She’s hot. And I’d like to date her. I can’t get away from the office, and animal control put her on hold. Can you go get the fucking snake or not?”

“I’ll send someone to save your future sex life,” Ronald said, and disconnected. He tossed Jack his keys. “Go get ’em, Tiger.”

Jack grabbed Ian, the only other guy he knew of who was also terrified of snakes. Misery loves company and all that… They dressed in their bunker gear, with Ian bitching the whole way that Jack owed him big.

The woman looked shocked to see them in full gear but led them down the hallway to her bedroom.

Jack stood in the doorway, sweating like a whore in church. Ian pushed him into the room, where they began their search. Ian went to the closet. Jack swallowed hard and dropped to his knees to look beneath the bed.

And hell. There it was. A two-foot-long, harmless garter snake that was taking years off Jack’s life just looking at him. Jack jerked back and fell to his ass.

Ian stared at the bed like it was a bomb. “It’s under there?”

Jack could only nod.

Ian gulped, appearing frozen in place.

The woman’s voice came from down the hall. “Did you find it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ian said, his voice sounding like Mickey Mouse. He grimaced and cleared his throat.

Jack found his legs and went out to the engine, where he grabbed a pike pole. He shoved it at Ian, who shook his head adamantly. “You’re head of shift,” he said.

Jack considered using the pike pole on Ian’s head, but there’d be a lot of paperwork afterward, so he resisted. And then, holding his breath, he went back to his knees and peered beneath the bed.

The snake was looking right at him with those obsidian eyes. Slowly Jack reached in there with the pike pole and snagged the motherfucker. Shaking like a leaf, he walked it outside.

The snake slithered off into the bushes and vanished.

And Jack had to lock his knees and gulp in air. Christ. He needed a new job.

Ian came out of the house, looking fully restored back to his good humor as he clapped his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “We did good,” he said.

Jack slid him a look. “We?”

“Hey, I had your back, man. If you’d dropped him, I’d have snatched him up for you.”

“If I’d dropped him, you’d have shit your pants.”

Ian grinned. “Well, now we’ll never know.”

At the station, Jack went back to the reports. He had the convenience store fire and auto shop fire reports side by side. Ronald wasn’t convinced either was arson, but Jack couldn’t get past the feeling that both points of origin had been buckets of rags, accidentally ignited. It just all felt far too pat, too convenient, and Jack didn’t believe in coincidences.

Nor could he buy the vagrant’s story of a Santa on crack theory, though that seemed more solid than the vagrant himself setting the fires since he’d been at the homeless shelter on the night of the auto shop fire.

And then Jack discovered something they hadn’t known—the auto-parts store had been in escrow too. To a Mr. Rinaldi, the same man in escrow to buy the convenience store. Jack ran a search on him. The guy had a squeaky-clean record and a well-documented history of cleaning up and turning around downtrodden areas.

It didn’t make sense. Not a lick of it made any sense at all.

  

 

That night, Leah made dinner for her grandma and was so distracted she burned the chicken and undercooked the rice.

Elsie, always a good sport, still ate everything with her usual gusto.

“Sorry,” Leah said. “I can’t believe I failed dinner so badly.”

“I can.” Elsie smiled. “Your mind is somewhere else.”

This was very true, but she didn’t want to go there. “I need to head into Seattle this week. I want to hit up that new restaurant supply warehouse. I need to borrow a truck.”

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