Gotcha! (22 page)

She had three days. Three days before she committed herself. Three days to talk herself out of it—or to convince herself to go for it. The passion. The risk.

The passion.

He ran a slow hand down the side of her neck. “I like you too much, too.”

His smile made her insides go mush. These were going to be three very long days.

“Chocolate or strawberry?” Jake looked from his ice-cream selection to Macy. He felt more cold air blowing from her than from the freezer. He didn’t understand it, either. She’d kissed him and hadn’t pulled away when he’d kissed her back twice at red lights. He’d been so damn eager to get back to his place, so he could concentrate on kissing and not worry about the man in the black sedan behind them enjoying the show, but the moment he parked at his condo, she’d put her guard back up. A guard he was dead set on breaking through.

“Chocolate.” She smiled nervously and stroked Elvis, who sat next to her on the sofa.

Jake pulled out the pint-size containers and grabbed two bowls. Shortly thereafter, he put on some soft rock and then settled on the sofa next to her. “What’s your
favorite
flavor?” he asked.

“Rocky road. Yours?”

“Depends on my mood. Sometimes nothing will do but chocolate. Then I have my strawberry phases.” He scooped a spoonful of pink ice cream from his own bowl and held it out. “Try it.”

She did. As her beautiful lips closed around the utensil, erotic images flashed in his mind. He casually adjusted for the tightening in his pants.

“And?”

“It’s good. But it’s not chocolate.” Macy stared at her bowl. “So, your grandpa is really going to be a hundred?”

“Yeah,” Jake said. Behind her bowl, he saw her nipples pressed tightly against her blouse. He couldn’t help staring. “Give me a taste of the chocolate.”

She fed him a bite. He let the cool sweetness melt on his tongue.

“You know, I think I’m in a chocolate mood,” he said. He put down his bowl, scooted closer, and eased his arm around her shoulders. Grinning, he used his spoon to steal a bite.

“Hey!” She pulled her bowl closer to her chest.

He scooped another spoonful and held it out. “I’ll share.” He watched her lips part and accept his offering.

As soon as he drew the utensil back, he went in for the kill. He swirled his tongue around and found the cold chocolate in her mouth. Its dark sweet flavor had him delving deeper. Abandoning her bowl to her lap, she curled warm hands around his neck.

Without ending the kiss, he took her bowl and set it on the coffee table. Then, sliding his arm down between her and the sofa, he pulled her onto his lap, turning her to straddle him. As the V of her legs came against the bulge in his jeans, he groaned. Their kiss went from hot to hotter, sweet to sweeter.

Her hands slid from his neck to his chest as her tongue danced with his. He ran his hands down her back to her hips and tugged her closer to his aching erection. Her sweet pelvic push was all the encouragement he needed. Reaching under her shirt, he touched soft skin that his mouth watered to taste. Moving his hands to her back, he released her bra. Then, slipping his hands around to the front, he moved under the silk material and cupped her naked breasts. Her nipples puckered against his palms.

He moved his kisses to her neck and started working on her shirt buttons. One popped open, and he kissed his way down the exposed skin. Another popped, and he visually feasted. Her breasts were only slightly hidden by the loosened bra.

The need to see all of her had him reaching up to pull down her bra. He’d seen her naked during the towel tug-of-war, but seeing her now was different. Better. This was no accident. This was them sharing their bodies, pleasuring each other. Becoming lovers.

“Perfect,” he whispered and leaned in to taste her. He licked her nipple, and she rocked in his lap, pushing her sex against him.

Her last few shirt buttons came undone. While savoring one nipple and then the other, he removed her shirt and bra, and the two pieces of clothing fluttered to the beige carpet. Reclaiming her lips, he settled her back on the sofa. His shirt joined her bra and blouse, and he stretched out beside her. Her eyes stayed closed while he took in her dark-brown hair spread across the sofa’s tan leather.

Reaching to the coffee table, he dipped his finger into the melting strawberry ice cream to trace it over one nipple. Her eyes popped open, and she arched up and moaned.

“You like that?” he asked.

A low, shuddering
Yes
escaped her lips.

Coldness tightened her nipple, and unable to resist, he lowered his mouth and laved it with his tongue. She rubbed her pelvis against his thigh. It was a sure sign that she was his—practically an invitation for complete ravishment.

He slid his hand down to unsnap her jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. His own zipper bulged. He touched the edge of her silk panties. As he slipped one finger under the elastic band, his dick pulsed with the need to find its way inside her, to feel her slick wetness sucking him deeper. He touched the triangle of hair, surprised by its silky texture.

“Soft,” he mumbled. His finger slipped lower. “And wet.”

“Stop! I…we…can’t.”

She caught his hand. He caught his breath.

“We can’t.”

He heard her words, but they didn’t make sense. “We
can
.”

“No.” She jerked his hand from her jeans and scrambled out from under him. She sat up.

“Why?”

“Because,” she answered.

His balls were tight as rocks, his dick so hard he thought it might snap in two. He reached down to reposition himself and managed to sit up. He looked at her, topless, her jeans unsnapped, unzipped, her hair mussed. As impossible as it seemed, he felt himself harden even more. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he concentrated on breathing.

In.

Out.

And when looking at her became too much, he stared at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have stopped when…”

The sofa shifted as she stood up. After counting to three, Jake dropped his head forward and watched her slipping her arms into her blouse.

“Why stop when you want it as much as I do?” He waited for the answer, afraid of what he’d hear. He could still remember asking what the ex had done. She hadn’t answered. Did she still love the bastard?

Damn, he didn’t want to hear that. He wanted her in his life, but he wouldn’t play second fiddle to any man. Hell, no! He’d done that with Lisa. God only knew how long she and his brother had been carrying on behind his back.

Macy’s fingers shook as she buttoned her shirt over her bare breasts. He spotted her bra still on the floor. She sat back down beside him.

He swallowed. “Is this about your ex?”

Her eyes widened. “No! It’s…” She pulled her hair back. “It’s Aunt Flo.”

Inhaling, he studied her. “Your aunt?”

“You know.” She waved her hand. “Aunt
Flo
.”

Frustrated, he pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t have a friggin’ clue how or why your aunt could stop us from making love.”

A grin spread across her lips. “No. ‘Aunt Flo’ is another way of saying my period. Remember the trip we took to the store?”

It took a second for her meaning to sink in. “Oh!” With his dick like petrified wood, it was amazing he could think at all. “That’s it? Just that?”

“Yeah.” She still wore that damn beautiful smile.

He grinned. “That’s the only reason you stopped?”

“Yeeahhh.”

It wasn’t a
hell, yeah
, but he’d take it. He laughed. “So when does your aunt leave?”

She put a hand against his shoulder. “She’ll have overstayed her welcome by Tuesday.”

Her palm felt warm against him. Warm and delicious. He wanted that warmth other places. “That long?” More blood rushed to his groin.

“More or less. She keeps her own schedule.”

His gaze caught on the open V of her shirt. He could still taste her breasts laced with strawberry ice cream. To hell with her aunt. “And is it a written rule that when she’s here, you can’t—?”

“Written in stone.” She snagged her bowl of half-melted ice cream from the coffee table. “Just eat some chocolate.” She spooned a bite into her mouth then brought another spoonful to his lips. “It’s supposed to be better than sex.”

He took it and swallowed, and the sweetness slid down his throat. “You obviously haven’t had sex with me.”

She took the spoon back and licked it slowly. “So, you’re that good, huh?”

Images of her mouth on something else flashed through his mind. He gulped. “Yup.”

“As good as
really good
chocolate?” Her tongue continued to move over the spoon.

“Better.” He snatched the spoon and got more ice cream.

Her eyes twinkled. “You talk big, but—”

“Mr. Dudley isn’t all talk.” He used the spoon to point to his jeans.

Her gaze lowered to his bulging crotch, then flew back up. “You are
so
crass,” she complained. But he thought she was laughing.

“No, I’m honest.” He leaned in and kissed her, then deepened the kiss. When he came up for air, his hard-on was even more painful. He stood. “And since your Aunt Flo rule stands, I’m taking—” An idea suddenly hit. “Want to join me? This will relieve at least
some
of our tension.”

Billy stepped up on the porch. “You sure no one is here?” he asked.

“I’m sure. I take care of it for her.” Ellie opened the front door to the beach house. “Mrs. Kelly’s only daughter lives in Ohio, and Mrs. Kelly doesn’t want to sell the place yet. I should have remembered. We could have come straight here.”

Billy looked around. Everything in the house looked expensive: the furniture, the knickknacks, even the light fixtures. “Does your brother know about this place?”

“No.” She dropped the keys in her purse. “He’s not good about things like wiping his feet or being careful with dishes.”

Billy looked down to make sure he hadn’t tracked dirt inside. His shoes were clean. The carpet was the thick, woven kind that sprang back into shape after each step.

“Come here,” Ellie said, and led him into the living room. There she opened the curtains and unlatched the windows. The sounds of the ocean and the smell of salt water filtered inside. They watched the ocean, and Ellie laid her head on his shoulder. “Pretty isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Billy’s chest ached. It ached because even though he’d let Ellie believe he was going to stay here with her, he wasn’t. It ached because he felt out of place standing in a beautiful house. It ached because the ocean was so beautiful, and soon—after he tried to take out Tanks—he might never see the ocean again. It ached because Ellie’s brother could get caught up in what was going down in all this. Ellie loved her brother. She would never forgive him.

“Make love to me here,” Ellie begged. “With the ocean and the moon.”

She pulled her shirt over her head and removed her bra. Then she shimmied out her jean shorts and red panties and stood in front of him. The moonlight touched her milky nakedness and he couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to look away. He wanted to capture this image and burn it into his mind.

Her breasts were
Playboy
beautiful. Her pink nipples reminded him of raspberries. He reached up and touched one, watched it pebble. A soft purring came from her throat and she unsnapped his jeans and wrapped her hand around his dick. Billy knew he should tell her no and leave, but he wanted one more time.

One more time to taste her breasts and her sex, to feel the soft skin pulsing against his lips as he brought her to climax with his tongue.

One more time to feel himself inside her, to pump his hips hard and fast as she wrapped her legs around him and begged him to keep going.

Just one more time.

While Jake showered, Macy made fast work of finding a set of sheets for the sofa. She’d turned down his offer of relieving their tension. Oh, she’d been tempted. But she’d been scared, too. Today her emotions were all over the place. No doubt, come Tuesday when Aunt Flo had departed, she knew she’d been singing a new tune. But maybe by then he’d have asked her to go to his grandfather’s party. Maybe by then she would have stopped doubting and really started believing in happy endings.

Footsteps thumped down the hall. Jake stopped and stood there, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. His hair shone a dewy black and looked finger combed. A few drops of shower water clung to his chest. She watched one glistening stream spill down his chest and disappear into his belly button.

“What are you doing?” His words drew her gaze to his face.

“Fixing my bed.” She looked away and focused on what she was doing.

“Why? We slept together last night.”

She gave the sheet one more tuck. “Last night you had doctor’s orders.” She glanced at him. Another drop of water wiggled its way to the elastic of his boxers.

He ran a hand over his chest. “There’s no reason—”

“After what almost happened, I think it would be best.”

He ran a hand over his face. “You really don’t think I’d try to persuade you to do something you didn’t want, do you?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “But
I
might.”

His blue eyes twinkled. “Then I insist you sleep with me.”

As he stepped closer, she put her hand on his chest. A chill from his skin met her palm. He really had taken a cold shower.

“Please, Jake.”

He held her waist. “Nothing will happen, I promise. I’ll fight you off if you attack me.”

“Yeah, but if I sleep in here, I
know
nothing will happen.”

“Macy, this is silly. The only reason we aren’t making love in that bed or on that couch right now is because you’re on your…woman thingy.”

“Woman thingy?” She grinned.

He answered her smile with his own. “Hey, if this”—he pointed downward—“is now Mr. Dudley, I can call your time of the month a woman thingy.”

Macy laughed. “I guess that’s fair. But I’m sleeping right here.”

He took her hand and gave a tug. “Let’s go to bed.”

“No.” She dug her heels into the carpet.

When his gaze met her determined glare, he released her and ran both hands through his hair. “God, you are one stubborn woman, aren’t you?”

“No.” She paused. “Okay. I am stubborn. But you’re just as stubborn. And since we’re already arguing, I should tell you something else you’re not going to like.”