Bet Me Something (Something Series Book 3) (18 page)

“Appreciate the
gesture, but I’m kind of old-fashioned and think if a guy likes a girl enough,
he’ll call her.”

Amusement danced
in Jordan’s eyes as he flashed his movie-star smile. “I’m digging that, but one
problem: you haven’t given me your number.”

I put a finger
to my chin as if contemplating his dilemma. “That’s true, however you’re a
resourceful man, Jordan. I mean, you have people who write down your number for
you and everything, so I’m sure you can figure out a way to get it.” My eyes
flicked toward Colby to drive my point home since they obviously knew one
another.

Jordan chuckled
and leaned in, giving me a lingering kiss on the cheek. “You’re as intriguing as
you are beautiful, Kenzie. You’ll be hearing from me soon.”

Colby was quiet
as we made our way through the mansion and then waited for the valet to bring
the car around. Given it was my first time out since the accident, I was happy
to call it a night.

After we’d
climbed into the car and were driving back to the house, he finally spoke. “Was
that a strategic move, or do you truly feel that way about having to call a
guy?”

“It’s how I
feel. I thought I told you on the night I was drunk in Vegas about my dating
rules.”

“You told me
about the five date thing but not the calling stipulation.”

“I don’t think
it’s a bad thing to ask a guy to make some effort if he’s interested. Especially
the first time.”

“Agreed, yet you
don’t seem to care if he does or not, do you?” he mused.

“Of course I do.
I want to win the bet,” I admitted, smiling.

“Jordan Pratt
having to work for it. I applaud your effort, but I still don’t think he’s
going to bother.”

“What would you
have done if that had been you a few years ago? Would you have called?”

He heaved a
regretful sigh. “No, and if he’s anything like the way I was at his age, he’s
probably taking some other girl back to his hotel room tonight.”

“Although that
would be somewhat disappointing, I did just meet the guy, so expecting
exclusivity before a first date is a little much.”

He shook his
head. “It shouldn’t matter if you just met him tonight. If he was into you the
way you deserve, then he wouldn’t so much as look at another woman after
meeting you. All of his energy, all of his thoughts would be focused on you.
He’d be smitten enough that no other woman could come close to what he gets by
thinking about, talking, or being with you. And he’d already be consumed with
getting your number and plotting how he could see you again.”

Holy shit. How
did a man who seemingly didn’t desire a relationship know about feelings like
that?

“I have a
question for you.” He flicked his eyes over towards me.

“What is it?”

He hesitated
before asking, “How many guys have achieved fifth date status?”

Somewhere in the
back of my mind, I wondered if I should tell him the truth, but I couldn’t
bring myself to do it for fear his barrier wall would go up permanently. At the
same time I also wouldn’t lie, which left avoidance as the only option. “Do we
really want to have a talk about numbers?”

He looked mildly
embarrassed. “Yours, yes; mine, absolutely not.”

“I wouldn’t
judge you for yours, so why would it matter if mine was two or forty for me?”

He chuckled.
“Well, it’s obviously not forty. That would be like forty times five dates and
who has that kind of time?”

I grinned.
“Okay, it’s not forty.”

“Knowing
Jordan’s history with women, it doesn’t bother you?”

I answered
carefully, wondering if this question was more about him than Jordan. “Not if
he wants to be with me and is willing to leave it in the past.”

“Are you hoping he’ll
ask you out?”

“I’m not sure.
It might be nice to go out with a guy who’s not in college, for a change.”

“You’re truly
into this whole five-date rule thing, aren’t you?”

“It’s not about
the dates as much as it is about wanting to get to know someone and rule out
douche bag status.”

“Wine and dine
with staged romance?” He rolled his eyes at the thought.

 “Come on, you
know me. I’d rather it be something casual and fun.”

“So if Jordan
asks you out, you’ll say yes?”

I shrugged.
“Sure. Why not?”

“But if you’re
not into him, why bother?”

“Because I could
be wrong, not to mention the one guy I wish would ask me out on a date won’t
ever do so.” That’s right, I’d moved past the point of being able to sugarcoat
it any longer. He didn’t get to throw mixed signals and have me not voice my
frustration.

He sighed a
heavy breath at my admission and looked like he was about to say something.

I held up a hand
to cut him off, sensing he was only going to apologize yet again. “Please spare
me the ‘Kenz, I didn’t mean to, blah, blah, fill in the blank.’ I’m a big girl
who regrets nothing, but I’m being honest, and if you don’t like it, too bad.”

I put my chin in
my hand as I turned toward the window, refusing to talk about it any longer.
Truth was that over the last three weeks I’d been waiting for something more to
happen, but now that it hadn’t, I wasn’t sure I was willing to be the girl who
waited any longer. I wanted more.

“Did you wear
those granny panties tonight?”

Okay, this was
definitely not what I had expected him to say. I whipped my head in his
direction. “What?”

“Your panties. I
told you to wear granny style. Did you?”

“I always wear
the same kind, unless it’s that time of month—never mind—total TMI.” I blushed
with the inadvertent over-share.

He laughed. “It
was, but I like that about us. Would you wear special panties for a first
date?”

I shook my head,
wondering where this was going. “A first date doesn’t rate special panties so
I’d most likely wear the same kind I have on tonight.”

He shifted
uncomfortably in his seat. “And what kind is that?”

The power of
being able to turn him on with the course of this conversation emboldened me. Reaching
under my dress, I fingered the lace of my thong.

“What are you
doing?” He rapidly looked back and forth between the road and my lap.

I moved my other
hand under my dress, hooking my thumbs on either side of my panties, and then
made a show out of pulling them down and off from around my ankles. Holding
them up, I smirked. “See? A regular lacy black thong. Nothing special.”

He exhaled
harshly. “Christ, I can smell your pussy.”

“Uh, I’m going
to ask a dumb, potentially mood-killing question. Is that a good or bad thing?”

He grinned. “It
makes me want to put my face in it and not come up for days.”

“I thought you
said you weren’t doing that again.” I desired him more than anything, however
my pride wasn’t letting him off the hook easily this time around.

He closed his
eyes, looking conflicted. “We shouldn’t.”

“Mm, okay. Then
you won’t mind if I take care of myself.” I put my hand under my dress, noting
he wasn’t exactly begging for me to put my panties back on.

 “What the fuck
are you doing?” His voice sounded pained while his gaze darted from the road
back to me.

“What do you
think?”

“You’re
torturing me here,” he muttered.

“Mm, I think if
I truly wished to torture you, I’d flip my dress up and allow you to watch.”

“Show me,” he
demanded.

“Nope. I think you’ll
have to use your imagination until you can make up your damn mind about what it
is that you want.” Closing my eyes, I trailed a finger through my arousal up to
my clit, imagining it was him.

“Are you wet?”
his throaty voice rasped out.

Moving my
fingers, I created slick sounds, making it obvious in the silence of the car
that I was. “I’d say so.”

“Jesus. What are
you thinking about?”

“Your tongue.”
Was it my imagination, or had he sped up?

“Tell me what
I’m doing. In detail.”

I shifted to get
a better angle. “You inhale my scent as I feel your face rubbing up my thighs. Then
you put the first finger inside of me, shuddering with the fact that I’m
already drenched. Your finger curls up inside of me where you hit the spot that
made my eyes roll back like the last time. Your lips are around my clit,
sucking, and when you press your tongue flat, it makes me want to ride your face.”
I was rewarded with his sharp intake of breath.

“Does it turn
you on when I lick you lower? When I lift your hips up and put my tongue inside
of you?”

I shivered in
response, rubbing my engorged clit faster, enjoying the erotic thought of
masturbating to his seductive words. An orgasm might be achievable without
battery assistance, after all. I could feel it building, almost there.

“Yes, God, I’m
going to—” I didn’t get a chance to finish as the brakes slammed, and I
realized we were at his gate with him frantically punching in the code. I had
every intention of resuming when his voice stopped me cold.

“Don’t you dare
come. You’ll wait for me.” His expression looked fierce even in the darkness of
the car while he drove into the garage.

“Did you just hijack
my orgasm?” I watched him get out of the car, stalk towards my side, and yank
open the door.

“Damn right I
did.”

And with that,
he flipped up my dress, diving directly between my thighs.

Holy hell. I had
no choice but to lie back, barely registering the discomfort of having my neck
on the gearshift when he inhaled my scent. My back arched with the first touch
of his tongue.

“Is this what
you were imagining when you were touching yourself?” His mouth suckled on my
clit, the sensation causing my hips to buck in response. He inserted one
finger, then two.

I could no
longer form words, so I nodded; feeling his finger curl up, finding the magic
spot while his tongue flattened and then licked me further down. My hand fisted
his hair, pulling him tighter into me. Moaning shamelessly as he ground his
entire face into my heat, I let the sensation overwhelm me, loving how crazy
I’d made him for the taste of me. When his mouth latched onto my over-sensitive
nub, I was done for. My stomach clenched, my body quaked, and I threw back my
head in ecstasy, trying not to scream as waves of pleasure lanced through me.

Kissing down the
inside of my thigh, his fingers worked my wetness as I came down from my high.
“This is what it would be like if you were properly prepped for me.”

A shudder ran
through me. “You can’t say shit like that to me,” I muttered, stealing his
line.

While he grinned
down at me, I took advantage, sitting up on the passenger seat to unzip his slacks
as he stood in the car door. Looking up at his smoldering gaze, I had the
satisfaction of his groan when my hands gripped his thick erection. Sliding his
tip between my lips, I darted my tongue out to taste the droplet on the end,
enjoying the salty taste. Mouthing the head, I flicked my tongue down his
length, teasing, testing and tasting him. His primal growl rumbled from his
chest, fueling a craving to pleasure him the way he had me.

I coated him
with my saliva, drawing him deep into my mouth, remembering to use my fingers
on the base of him. At this angle I had unlimited access and took advantage of
having my other hand available this time. Cradling his balls, I moved lower,
lavishing attention on each of them, noting the way his cock swelled with the
attention. While his hand rested on top of my head, he was careful not to push.
Taking my mouth off of him, I looked up. “Grip my hair, and show me you want it.”

His gaze
flickered disbelief right before his fingers weaved in my hair and pushed me
into him. The first thrust almost caused me to gag, however once I relaxed my
throat, I was able to keep up with a rhythm, twirling my tongue and hollowing
my cheeks. His length thickened, impossibly large in my mouth right before his
climax hit the back of my throat. I swallowed it down, greedy for the taste, feeling
his body weight when he leaned into me.

“Jesus, woman,
you’re dangerous.”

I smiled,
letting him help me out of the car and onto my feet. “So, I’m getting better at
it?”

“There’s no such
thing. You’ve graduated. Anything more, and you’ll kill a man.”

“Mm, there’s a
thought. Do you kiss after?”

His eyes
widened. “I’ve never, no.”

“Oh.”

Looking
indecisive for a moment, he let his mouth close the inches between us. His lips
were tentative at first, as though he was evaluating the taste.

I took the opportunity
to deepen the kiss, meeting his tongue and tangling my hands in his hair.

The taste of us
together was obviously a turn-on for him as his arms snaked my hips closer,
moving so that I was pinned against the car. “I’m so tired of fighting this,” he
panted out.

“So don’t.” I
could feel his erection, hardly softened despite his orgasm and gasped when he
lifted me up. The heat from being skin on skin enflamed my senses, instantly
making me long for more.

“Wrap your sexy
legs around me.”

I shifted to do
as he asked, nestling him within the apex of my thighs, feeling my back against
the car door while squeezing the span of his waist with my thighs. The tip of
his cock was only inches from my entrance.

“Shit, the
condoms are in my bathroom.”

Obviously, times
had changed from when he’d had sex at parties if he didn’t have one in his
wallet. He carried me into the house like a man on a mission.