Dirty Sexy Sinner (10 page)

She squirmed to get closer. Clenched her thighs around his hips to increase the pressure right where she needed it the most. Even confined beneath the zipper of his jeans, there was no denying his cock was thick and huge, more so than the vibrator she’d grown used to, which would now forever pale in comparison. She imagined all that solid male heat working its way inside her, inch by delectable inch. Envisioned him filling her with the breath-stealing force he’d just described and without any restraint holding him back from taking what he ultimately wanted . . .

And then, it all abruptly ended as Jackson tore his mouth from hers and cursed beneath his breath. Despite her weak protest, he untangled their limbs and gradually released her so that she was standing on her own two feet again. A little unsteady, but his hands on her waist helped.

“We can’t do this here,” he said in a gruff voice, but the frustration etching his expression, the unquenched desire, was just as keen as her own.

Her passion-hazed mind cleared, their surroundings came back into focus, and her skin flushed when she realized what she’d nearly allowed in a public place.

“And if I take you home right now, neither one of us will get any sleep because I will fuck you for hours,” he added in a low, heated tone that was filled with regret. “Which means I won’t be worth shit at a very important meeting I have at work in the morning.”

The only thing she could manage was an agreeable nod.

“I want to see you again.” He tenderly brushed unruly tendrils of her hair away from her cheek, his gaze searching hers, bright with determination. “I
need
to see you again.”

She understood that same strong urge to be with him again, too. Not just to finish what they’d started tonight but because she really liked the way he made her feel. More vibrant and alive than she had since losing Michael. Like she finally had something exciting to look forward to other than the mundane existence she’d lived for so many years.

“I work Thursday and Friday night,” she said and, for the first time ever, hated that she worked the evening shift, because it conflicted with his nine-to-five schedule.

He tipped his head. “Saturday?” he asked hopefully.

“I’m off.” And then she remembered
why
she wasn’t on the schedule for that night. Because Clay had essentially ordered her to take the day off for a party being thrown in her honor.

“So, how about we go out on a real date then?” he suggested.

Tara didn’t respond immediately and instead considered her options. She couldn’t very well blow off her friends and the barbeque they’d planned to celebrate her finally getting her degree. But she could invite Jackson to join her, which would also force Clay, Mason, and Levi to deal with the reality of having a brother who was a decent guy and not the threat they believed him to be. Maybe, hopefully, having them all in a casual setting would make it easier for them to get to know one another better.

She reached out and placed her hands on his chest, because she liked touching him and she also hoped that the connection between the two of them would help sway him. “So . . . Samantha, Katrina, and Sarah are throwing me a graduation party on Saturday at Clay’s house,” she said quickly. “Come with me.”

His body tensed, and he stared at her as if she’d just grown a third eye. “You’re kidding, right?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m completely serious.”

His frown increased, his dark brown eyes reflecting his apprehension. “Tara, my brothers don’t want to have anything to do with me. What makes you think they’re going to be okay with me crashing a party I wasn’t invited to?”

“You wouldn’t be crashing because
I’m
inviting you, as my guest,” she said with an encouraging smile. “It’s my party and I want you there. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

He scrubbed a hand over his clenched jaw, clearly torn. He hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t flat out refused her, either, and that’s what Tara concentrated on.

“I’d really like you to be there, and I honestly think it would help your cause if you met Samantha, Katrina, and Sarah, because they’re the ones who can sway the guys. Really.”

He didn’t look totally convinced, but the small, wry smile curving the corner of his mouth told her he was considering her invitation. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

She shrugged. “The very worst that could happen is that they tell you to leave, though I’m pretty sure they won’t. They might be acting like closed-minded idiots right now, but you all have to start somewhere, right?”

Tara had no idea why the brothers hadn’t reached out to Jackson since meeting him. Their distrust of outsiders was a typical reaction for the three men, and she could only assume that they were still trying to process Jackson’s existence. Sure, they might be surprised to see him at her party, possibly even wary at first, but she was determined to give
all
of them a nudge in the right direction. And hopefully, with Samantha, Katrina, and Sarah as buffers, their significant others’ cool demeanor toward Jackson would start to thaw.

“So, what do you say?” she asked persuasively, knowing he was close to agreeing. “Do you want to pick me up at three on Saturday?”

He released a heavy breath and finally nodded, clearly wanting what she was offering. “Yeah, I’d like that. A lot.”

She grinned triumphantly as she took her cell phone from her purse. “What’s your phone number so I can text you my number and address,” she said before he had too much time to think about his decision and have second thoughts.

He gave her his contact information and she typed it in, then immediately sent him a message with her street address, which also gave him her cell number. Once that was done, she dropped her phone back into her handbag, then poked him playfully in the chest.

“Technically, this is a date, so no backing out,” she said impudently.

He caught her hand before she could pull it away and flicked his tongue along the pulse point in her wrist, his gaze hot and seductive and amused. “Or what?” he murmured.

That quickly, that easily, a renewed longing sizzled through her. “If you cancel, there’ll be no sinning for you, that’s what,” she replied with sass.

“Damn,” he muttered with a feigned frown. “You drive one hell of a hard bargain.”

She laughed lightly. “It’s called an incentive. Just keep your eye on the prize, Mr. Stone, and don’t forget how Saturday night is going to end.”

He grinned at her. “And how’s that?”

God, he was so charming, with just enough bad boy thrown in for good measure, which made him incredibly difficult to resist. But then again, she’d already decided that she was going to enjoy him, the flirting, the sex . . . whatever this was between them.

Leaning toward him, she placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, then whispered in his ear, “Saturday night will end any way you want it to,” she promised.

He pulled back slightly, so she couldn’t miss the carnal look in his eyes, the salacious expression flashing across his bold, masculine features. “There’s always sin number four, where you’re sitting astride my cock as I—”

She quickly covered his mouth and groaned, her body and senses already on overload and on the verge of spontaneously combusting from all his dirty talk. “You’re seriously killing me.”

He pulled her hand away, a smirk on his lips. “What I plan to do to you won’t kill you, but it might just make you scream with pleasure. In fact, that’s what I’ll be aiming for. Numerous times.”

Tara didn’t think she could be any more aroused, but Jesus, the man was lethal and every sexual fantasy she’d ever had. Saturday seemed like a lifetime away, but she was pretty damn sure that sinning with Jackson Stone was going to be worth the wait.

J
ackson walked into
The Popped Cherry, the trendy bar in downtown Chicago where he’d promised to meet up with his good friend, Wes Sinclair, after work. It was nearly six thirty on a Friday night, and the place was already packed. As he made his way through the crowd, he glanced over at the bar as Tate Morrison, one of the owners of the place, glanced up from the bottle of vodka he’d just picked up.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” Tate greeted him without breaking stride on the cocktail he was mixing.

“Good.” Jackson stopped next to a barstool where Tate’s significant other, Logan Mitchell, was sitting, and shook the other man’s hand. The dark-haired, good-looking guy was a lawyer at Mitchell and Madison in the city, and his half brother, Cole, had been counsel on Jackson’s divorce three years ago. They’d remained good friends since then.

Jackson casually leaned an arm on the counter next to Logan. “How are things at the office?”

“Busy.” Logan took a quick drink of his gin and tonic. “Which is always a good thing, so I’m not complaining.”

Jackson raised a brow. “Can’t be too busy if you can still find time to harass Tate at work.”

Behind the black-framed glasses Logan wore, his blue eyes gleamed with humor. “Being part owner of the joint, it’s my job to make sure I keep Tate in line.”

Tate scoffed at his boyfriend’s arrogant comment and shook his head. “Don’t worry, Jackson. I definitely put Logan in his place at home. Frequently.”

Logan smirked, though there was no mistaking the affection in his voice when he spoke. “And you do it oh so well.”

“Don’t you forget it.” Tate gave Logan a flirty grin before shifting his gaze back to Jackson. “Bushmills, neat?”

Jackson nodded. “That would be great. Thank you.”

As Tate poured his drink, Jackson glanced around the place, searching for Wes. As he did so, he couldn’t help but compare the contemporary, modern design of The Popped Cherry, which catered more toward corporate clientele, to Clay’s simple and modest bar. The two establishments were night and day in comparison, and as much as Jackson enjoyed this place, there was something about Kincaid’s that made him feel as though he fit in and belonged there.

It was a ridiculous notion considering his brothers’ cool reception had made him feel more like an outsider than someone they were eager to establish any kind of a relationship with. No, it was Tara who’d made him feel welcome and accepted from the first moment they’d met, in a way that had eluded him for most of his life. She was the one supporting his efforts to connect with his siblings, not because she expected something in return but because she genuinely cared about the Kincaid brothers and wanted to be sure they didn’t miss out on the opportunity to get to know Jackson.

For a man who’d experienced very little kindness and caring throughout his life, her compassion and understanding toward the situation, and with him, was something he cherished. It remained to be seen whether it had been a smart or stupid decision on his part to agree to accompany Tara to Clay’s house tomorrow afternoon for her graduation party. He had no idea what kind of reception to expect, but he wanted this time with his brothers badly enough to risk their wrath by showing up.

Tate set his glass of whiskey on the counter, and Jackson pulled a twenty out of his wallet to pay for the drink. “Have either of you seen Wes?” he asked the two men.

Logan nodded to the right of Jackson. “He’s right over there, doing what he does best.”

Jackson didn’t have to turn around to know that Wes was most likely surrounded by a selection of attentive, willing, beautiful females. The man was a shameless flirt who enjoyed women. Unfortunately for the ladies he hooked up with, he was also a notorious heartbreaker and didn’t do serious relationships.

A wry grin tugged up the corner of Jackson’s mouth. “Are panties hitting the floor?”

Logan chuckled. “Not yet, but he definitely has a few of them heading in that direction.”

“Then I’d better go and save him from himself.” Jackson picked up his drink and nodded to each of the men. “You two have a good evening.”

He walked toward where Logan had indicated, and sure enough, Wes was in his element, surrounded by three perky blondes who were all vying for his attention and hanging on every word he spoke. The man was too damn good-looking for his own well-being, with that bad-boy air about him that had every woman believing she’d be the one to tame him.
Yeah, good luck with that.

Wes caught sight of Jackson as he approached, but since Jackson had no desire to make idle conversation with any of those women, he strolled toward a high-top table that a couple had just vacated and claimed it for himself. He slid onto one of the barstools and waited for Romeo to come and join him. As he sat there, the cell phone in his pocket vibrated, and he pulled it out to see who’d texted him.

Tara:
I just want to make sure that we’re still on for tomorrow?

Just seeing her name put a stupid smile on his face. Damn, it had been a long time since any woman had given him a genuine reason to feel lighthearted and happy, which happened every time he’d talked or texted with Tara since their donut date two nights ago.

They’d spent over two hours chatting on the phone last night after she’d gotten off of work—surprisingly, she’d called him—conversing mostly about him and his job as an architect since she didn’t like to talk about herself. He would have liked to have learned more about her and that past she was so vague about, but he knew how difficult it was to let someone in, to open up and reveal painful things when you weren’t ready. He hoped she’d eventually realize that she could trust him. It was shocking to him that he could feel so much for her so quickly.