Dirty Work: A Bad Boy Romance (9 page)

“After you kicked me out, I spent a lot of time being pissed at you,” he said. “I guess I can see now how that was just another way to avoid thinking about the problems we’d had living together. But I missed you, and eventually I did see that you had a point. Once I got past being hurt that you didn’t want me anymore, I saw that maybe we did have some things that needed fixing.”

 
I felt so relieved that he’d finally understood this that I nearly burst into tears. But I knew I needed to stay strong and finish speaking my mind. “I never stopped wanting you, Jake. I never stopped loving you. For a long time, I thought that was enough.”
 

Leaning back in his chair, he seemed lost in contemplation. “Sometimes it felt like we were little kids playing house. Sure, our games were a lot more fun than kids’ games, but that’s what it felt like. And I admit, I was usually in favor of trying to fast forward right past the less fun parts of being a part of a couple.”
 

He was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “And I was still trying to do that. With our kinky home-repair payment plan. I thought that if I got you into bed, then we’d be able to pick up where we left off without having to talk about it. Without having to actually fix anything. But when you didn’t call me on Saturday, when I thought you didn’t trust me, I guess it finally dawned on me that the physical part isn’t enough. Not by a long shot.”
 

I was fighting not to get my hopes up. The last thing I needed was to have them dashed again. I took a sip of my soda, not truly tasting it, but my dry throat welcomed the moisture. “Do you want to fix things? To try again?”

 
“Yes,” he said simply.
 

Still, I squashed my budding hopes down deep inside of me. “But what about Stacie?”
 

“What about her? We were never a couple.” When he said that, it was like a weight lifted from my shoulders. So much tension left all at once that I nearly missed what he said next. “We just went out a few times with Mike and Lisa and Alison and Drew. It’s not a lot of fun to be the fifth wheel in a group like that.”
 

“I get that. That’s pretty much why I’ve been avoiding them lately. But when they all showed up to help on Saturday, I realized I’d been an idiot.”
 

“Yeah, you have been,” Jake said, and for the first time this evening, a hint of a smile crossed his face. “You didn’t recognize the true friends you had in those guys. And you didn’t recognize what you had in me.”
 

“And what’s that?” I breathed.
 

“A future,” he said. “I know I probably did come off as only looking for a good time. But I was trying to make a life here with you. All the work I did around this place … I was trying to get it ready. For us. For our future life together. For any kids that might come along in that future.”
 

I drew in a surprised breath. “Kids?”
 

“Yeah, kids. See, sometimes, when two people love each other, they get married and have kids. Or so I’ve heard that’s how it works.”
 

Could this actually be Jake,
my
Jake, talking about marriage? Part of my mind was reeling, but the other part was so happy that I felt I might float out of my chair and up to the ceiling. But the slightly smug grin on his face anchored me and helped me know what to say. “I don’t recall anyone ever mentioning marriage before,” I said, managing to put a hint of teasing in my voice even as I blinked back tears of happiness.
 

His grin widened. “Nope, no one has. But it could be that someone’s been thinking about it. Could be that he’s got a few ideas about it. Could be you might find that out someday when you’re least expecting it.” He picked up his beer and leaned across the table and clinked it against my glass. We both took a sip, and then his expression sobered. “We should have been talking about this all along. It was my fault we didn’t. It takes two to tango, Red, and I wasn’t doing my part. From now on, we’re going to be partners in this thing.”
 

“And ‘this thing’ is our relationship?” I said.
 

“Yep,” he said. “It is.”
 

“I’ll drink to that,” I said, hope and happiness in my voice.

Chapter Eight

AFTER THAT, HE made me wait. He actually wanted to finish the damn mac ’n’ cheese before jumping my bones. Contrary as always, he seemed to get a perverse kick out of seeing me all eager and squirming in my chair.
 

He’d always had a dominant streak. Most times it turned me on. Other times, it drove me nuts. Right now it was a little of both. Why on earth was he patiently eating when he should be in the bedroom celebrating our new beginning by screwing my brains out? Thank god I never mentioned I’d made the chocolate chip walnut cookies, or it would have taken even longer.
 

But finally, I was able to put the lid on the mac ’n’ cheese pan—what was left of it—and put it away. And before I’d taken two steps away from the fridge, he picked me up in his arms and carried me to the bedroom.
 

He gave me his most evil grin while I wiggled in his arms.
 

“Put me down,” I said, not really meaning it.
 

“Now why would I do that when holding you like this makes that dress ride up your thighs?”
 

I tried to pull it down, but I didn’t have much room to maneuver.
 

“It looks beautiful on you, by the way. Goes so great with your hair. Is it new?”

“Yes.”

“Did you buy it just for me?”

“Yes.”
 

“Can I rip it off you?”
 

“Yes,” I said. I was so happy that I would’ve said ‘yes’ to almost anything right then.
 

But when he got to the bedroom, he started off gently. He placed me in the center of the bed and unzipped the dress, easing it over my hips and down my legs. “You’re even more beautiful with it off,” he said.
 

I kicked off my shoes and pushed a pillow under my head. Laying there in my black bra and panties, I wanted him more than I wanted anything else in the world. And not just in a sexual way. I wanted him with me. Beside me. And okay,
inside
me, too. But I wanted him for life. My lover. My partner. And maybe someday soon, my husband and the father of my children.
 

He moved to the foot of the bed and just stared at me. I could feel his gaze heating my skin. Finally, he climbed onto the bed, crawling until he was straddling me. He lowered himself on top of me, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him. I didn’t ever want to let go.
 

Jake pressed his mouth against mine, and it was heaven. It was like we’d never been apart, but it was even better because this time we were going to make it work. Together. As a team.
 

Although right at the moment, one member of the team was reaching for my nightstand again. I moved my head after him, trying not to break the kiss, but he pulled away from me, fumbling in a drawer. What was he after this time? And why did he have to have such a good memory about where all the kinky things were stored?
 

One of my questions was answered with a clinking sound that made my heart miss a beat and then speed up. He’d pulled out two leather cuffs, something we’d only played with a few times before. Jake kissed my mouth again, then my neck, and then along my right arm. When he reached my wrist, he fastened the leather cuff around it and attached it to the post of the headboard.
 

He kissed his way back to my throat, then up the other arm. I moaned and squirmed with anticipation but still had to ask. “What’s with the cuffs?”
 

Jake looked back at me with an evil grin, his eyes flashing. “It’s so that this time, you won’t argue when I make you come with my tongue.”
 

I shivered with anticipation. “Why would I argue about that?”
 

“Because that’s what you do. Correction. That’s what
we
do,” he said as he secured my other wrist to the far bedpost. “But in the future, we’re going to argue productively. We’re going to hash it out and come up with a plan. Together. Productive arguing, that’s what we’ll do. And right now, I’m going to produce two orgasms, yours and yours. You don’t get to go free until you’ve come twice for me. Got it, Red?”
 

“Yes, sir.” I said, flashing back to some of our earlier games involving bondage.
 

Jake sat back, lightly straddling my stomach, looking pleased at the sight of me bound below him. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor, making me moan and writhe underneath him. Then he frowned. “I guess I should’ve taken your bra off first,” he said.
 

“Guess so,” I said, smirking at the expression on his face.
 

“But I’ll think of something,” he said, and he tugged the bra up over my breasts. Somehow, he stretched it above my head and tucked the cups on the pillow beneath me. I shifted around until I could rest my head without being stabbed by an underwire.
 

Jake was staring at my breasts as if they were yummier than the dinner we’d just had. He mashed his face in my cleavage, the light stubble on his chin scraping my sensitive skin. His mouth captured first one nipple, then the other, and I closed my eyes and moaned. It felt so damn good.
 

He replaced his lips with his fingers and eased his way down past my navel, over my mound, somehow managing to slip my panties off as he did so. He dipped his tongue into my slit, and I knew he could feel how wet I was for him.

Jake trailed his hands down to my thighs, spreading them farther apart. I’m sure he knew that made me embarrassed and turned on at the same time. He hadn’t forgotten a damn thing about my body, either.

He latched onto my clit, still holding my thighs apart. Even with my hands bound to the headboard, I couldn’t be still. I writhed around until he was spending as much time pinning me down as he was licking my clit. It felt too good to hold still.
 

My breathing sped up, and Jake licked harder, circling my clit, cutting across it, flicking it back and forth. When I was really close, he plunged two fingers inside me, dragging them slowly across my inner walls. I came with a scream, my back arching off the bed, Jake’s tongue still buried in my folds.
 

Jake eased his head up but kept his fingers inside me. I felt myself clenching around his fingers, milking them like I hoped to milk his cock. “That’s one, Red.” He sat up on the bed, his breath a little labored but not as much as mine was. He stood up and pulled off his jeans. But then, to my surprise, he headed out of the room. “Don’t go anywhere,” he called back.
 

I huffed out a breath of annoyance and twisted on the bed. Where exactly did he think I was going to go?
 

He came back a minute later holding something long and flat in his hands. My pulse doubled when I saw it. It was a metal yardstick. “I’ll be good, sir.” I said, in case that was what this game was about.
 

He grinned and held it in both hands. “It’s not for spanking, though that’s a good idea.” He smacked the end of it against his palm, as though getting a feel for it. But then he set it aside, laying it on the edge of the bed. “Tonight, I have a different punishment in mind.”
 

My pulse rate increased yet again, and wetness surged between my legs. But then another question occurred to me. “Wait, why am I getting punished?”
 

He just looked at me, one eyebrow raised, a smug, masterful expression on his face. Finally, he chose to enlighten me. “For the cookies.”
 

Oh, crap. I didn’t know he knew about those. Still, I tried. “Why would you punish me for baking you cookies?”
 

“You’re getting punished for not telling me about them. I saw them when I went to get the yardstick. I’m sure you conveniently forgot to mention them because you were a horny little slut who wanted to play first.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, but my words were probably negated by the big grin on my face. Jake’d always made things so exciting in the bedroom. And now I could truly enjoy it because I knew we were going to work on making things that good outside of the bedroom, too.
 

“You will be,” he said. “Because guess how I’m going to punish you?”
 

I looked at his devilish grin, and suddenly I knew. “You wouldn’t! Not while I’m tied up.”
 

“Especially while you’re tied up. And you know you love being at my mercy,” he said, and he climbed onto the bed. My legs flailed about, but then he was between them, and I couldn’t twist away. He was going to punish me the same way he’d tortured the information about my pool room fantasy out of me—by tickling.
 

And then his hands were on me, and it was like being electrocuted. I shrieked, I laughed, I squirmed, but I couldn’t escape his hands. They were everywhere, dancing across my waist, tweaking my nipples, stroking down my sides, making me shriek with laughter.
 

I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe. I could only react, and I loved it. He had complete control, and he was making sure I knew it. I was too worked up to notice when one of his hands left my middle, but I certainly felt it when he shoved two fingers inside of me. The sick bastard was grinning as he felt me writhe around his fingers. His other hand still tickled me even as he held me down from the inside. He was a pervert, but he was
my
pervert, and fortunately, we shared the same sense of kinky fun.