Reading His Mind (3 page)

“I’m a jury consultant. I work a lot for an attorney here. He thinks I have special insights.” I shrugged with over-affected modesty. “You know, I read people pretty well.”

Jace grinned, and my heart’s rpms could have powered an eighteen-wheeler. “Do you? I haven’t noticed anything special.”

“I try not to flaunt how amazing I am.”

He replaced the frame then walked to the sofa, running his fingers along the smooth fabric of the arm before he bent his body to sit. “This is really nice, Lyric.”

I looked around the room. I had to agree, though I’d had nothing much to do with a lot of it except financing the purchases. My roommate and the building’s caretaker, George Chancellor Philmore-Michels, had been a trust-fund baby until he’d chosen to dedicate his life to the less fortunate. Then, he’d gone bat-crap crazy and given all the money away, preferring to live off of the pitiful amounts of money I sent him for keeping my place nice. I would’ve paid him more, but he refused to take it. The one fault he owned, in my rose-colored opinion, was his dedication to finding and dating every available woman in the surrounding counties. The latest object of his nightly affection sauntered on drunken legs out of his room, wearing his T-shirt and little else.

She stood at a towering five ten, at least three feet of which was comprised of long, tanned leg. Her hair, though she’d very obviously just been benefitting from George’s amorous attentions, framed her face to perfection. Her boobs jutted high on her chest and could have provided a shelf for books if she’d desired to use them that way. She plopped down next to Jace on the couch, ignoring me as though I’d faded to invisibility.

“Hi. I’m Ciara.” She drew out the syllables: See-Are-Uh.
Oh, boy
. Even my thoughts hated her. Hers, on the other hand, ran to the bulge in his jeans and whether or not she could convince him to join her and George.
Slut
.

“Hello, Ciara. I’m Jace.” To his credit, his eyes stayed on her face, ignoring the mile of leg she had curled onto his thigh.

George picked that moment to step out of his room, wearing boxers, bare-chested, his usual smug expression prettying up his features. I shook my head, and he rushed to greet me with a hug.

“Hello, beautiful.” Lifting me off my feet, he spun me in a wide circle before setting me on the floor.

I wrapped my arms around him. “Hello, yourself.”

“I didn’t know you were in town.”

I pulled away, wondering how he had missed my dishes in the sink or, at least, my laundry piled on the dryer in the closet. “George, I’ve been here for two days already.”

His eyebrows raised, almost making his forehead disappear under his caramel-colored boy-band bangs. His hair wasn’t long because he intended to be trendy, but, rather, because he didn’t care enough what others thought to take the time to get it cut. “Really?”

I nodded.

He frowned. “How did I not know?”

I shrugged ending the conversation. He turned to look at his latest conquest sitting by Jace.

“You brought home a little snack for yourself.” His voice dropped to a conspiracy theory whisper. “You trashy Jezebel.”

“Jace is an old friend, and people who live in slutty glass houses shouldn’t even look at stones.”

Moving with the grace of a feline, he scooped his date off the couch and looked at me over his shoulder. “My stones are just dandy, thank you very much.”

His date offered a bit of resistance. “But I was getting to know Jack,” she whined, either too drunk or too dumb to get his name right. Squirming, she reached out for Jace who smiled but moved not another muscle.

“Jack doesn’t belong to us, sweetie. We have plenty of our own toys in the bedroom.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, and she giggled. “See you in the morning.”

Before I could form a reply, the door latch clicked into place behind them, leaving Jace and me, once again, alone.

I didn’t have to be a mind reader to see the question in his eyes. “Roommate. He takes care of the building while I’m working.”

Jace leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. Neither of us spoke for so long, I began shifting from one foot to the other. “I went to one of your games.” He’d pitched an almost-perfect game—a one hitter. In an unfortunate turn of events, the single hit he’d allowed had shot over the left-field wall, and Atlanta had lost the game 1-0. “George loves baseball. He wanted to go, so we went while I was in Savannah buying my house.”

“Did we win?”

I shook my head.

He laughed. “Was I pitching?”

This time, I nodded. “I called out your name. I thought you saw me,” I lied. There’d been standing room only. Thankfully, I’d ordered our nosebleed seats when I planned the trip. He played along. “I thought that was you. I looked for you after, but you must have snuck out.” We crept back to awkward. “So, you are here for work?”

If there existed a single topic to get me talking, it had to be my job. “Yeah. I usually start cases at the beginning and help pick the juries, but this one is for a friend from college.” My stomach churned at the thoughts of the elements missing in the case. “I sat in the last two days to watch. I don’t have a good feeling.”

“You went to college?”

His question was fair, all things considered. I’d run off at sixteen, long before finishing high school. I nodded. “Yep.”

He looked up at me from beneath lashes that made envy crawl into my belly. How was it, I wondered, that men, who had no use for them, were always blessed with long eyelashes while I had to buy mine? I planned to save the question for my heavenly encounter with the Lord. His voice broke into my wandering thoughts. “Lyric, is there a reason you’re practically hugging your countertop?”

I bit the corner of my lip. “Maybe.”

He unfolded his frame, and I resisted the urge to run. “Are you afraid of me?”

I shook my head.

He moved close enough I could feel his body heat, his breath on my skin. “Did you think about me all these years?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Not at all?” He ran his fingers through my hair, watching his hand rather than me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of his face. He had a small scar below his lip, the result of Dylan punching him in tenth grade, busting his mouth open.

“No.” I couldn’t pull enough air into my lungs to make my voice louder.

“Why not?”

“I thought I would miss you too much.” The truth lay in my words. In the morning, however, I could chalk it up to the tequila.

“I missed you. I even looked for you.” He cupped the nape of my neck and I started sinking—fast. If he asked me to strip naked right there in the living room, George’s presence in the other room wouldn’t have stopped me.

“I know.” I’d stayed around Battlecry long enough to see if anyone cared I’d left. He’d been the only one who’d bothered to search at all. He even went to the police, who refused to help since I’d been classified a runaway.

“I always wondered about you. Melody said she talked to you every once in a while, but that was all she would ever tell me.”

I hated to ruin his illusion, but not all twins formed an unbreakable bond at birth. Speaking of Mel…. “I don’t want to be your substitute Melody.”

He smiled, lowering his head to lean against mine. “I think maybe she was my substitute you.”

He moved in closer. The sensation of the kiss shot through me, and I clutched his shirt in my fist. He pressed my hips into the counter. I wanted to know what he thought, wanted to make sure he spoke the truth about my sister, but I couldn’t focus on anything other than his lips caressing mine, the hand at my hip, the racing of my breath as he used the pressure of his own mouth to open mine, the sound of his voice when he moaned. Our bodies mashed together, caused serious and maybe life-threatening palpitations, but the sounds and the touching threw my every other system into utter chaos. My knees weakened, and my stomach fluttered. The kiss went on until I pulled back, out of breath and dizzy. My hands had tangled in his hair, so I slid them down to rest on his chest, in case I wanted to push him away.
Yeah, right
.

I pulled a long breath in then ducked my head to hiss it out. “I can’t do a…. I can’t…. We shouldn’t. It’s too….” I had no idea why I tried to deny myself. If he could kiss like
that
, the possibility of his other skills seemed limitless. Yanking the emergency brakes made no sense.

“Lyric.” His hands covered mine where they lay against his heart. “Do your thing. Get inside my brain. This has nothing to do with anyone but you and me.”

Oh, who was I kidding? I was about six seconds past caring whether or not half of the free world traipsed into the bedroom with us, assuming we made it that far. He’d stirred the long-forgotten pot of needs. Besides, it had been eons since anyone but George got lucky in my apartment, and that trend had to stop. I gazed into his eyes, brushing away any left-over doubts.

“So, you wanna bunk in my room tonight? It isn’t as nice as the Strip hotels, and there’s no room service, but I’ll make you coffee in the morning before I go to work.”

He raised his eyebrows. “No room service?”

“No, and there probably isn’t much hot water, either. George has an addiction to hour-long showers, but I make good coffee.”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

I shook my head. “Then I guess there is probably nothing in it for you.” I swallowed hard. “Should I call you a cab?”

“I could learn to like coffee.”

Electricity zinged between us as his lips crushed against mine. Every fantasy I’d ever had about Jace Laugherty came true, and I lost all sense of reason in a rush of sensation. His hand skimmed up my side at the same time his kiss devoured my thoughts.

I broke away to lead him to my bedroom. When we stepped inside, I wheeled to face him and shoved his jacket to the floor. He pressed a quick kiss against my lips and lifted me from my feet, carried me backward to the bed. Gently, he lowered me to the mattress, leaned over for another kiss, and then pulled away to slide his hand down my calf to my less-than-sensible shoe. Sliding the stiletto off, he tossed it over his shoulder then repeated the move with its mate. He pulled me to my feet. I stood a good eight inches shorter than he did. “Those are some pretty hot shoes.”

“Yet, you threw them to the side without any regard for their stylishness.”

“Your shoes aren’t my first concern.” His voice glimmered with his own brand of saucy mischief.

“Then why’d you bring ’em up?”

“We can talk about your footwear later.” He worked the zipper on my dress, the teeth loosening, coming apart as he inched the tab down my back. When the cool air swirled against my bare back, he slid the fabric down my arms, then my torso, letting the silken bundle pool at my feet. He stepped away, his gaze burning my skin, while I resisted the urge to cover myself, my remaining clothing somewhat ineffective. “Wow.”

My extravagances numbered very few but included a shoe collection worth enough to finance a small country and undergarments that made me feel sexy even on days when that description and I were not friends. The black-lace cami and panties hugged my every curve. A matching garter and thigh-high stockings completed the look.
Worth
every penny
. I took in the hunger written on his face. He didn’t move anything but his eyes, which scanned from my neckline to my feet and up again.

“Jace?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

My hands fluttered at my sides, nothing to anchor them.

After a moment of utter insecurity, I said, “You still wanna do this?”

“Yeah.” Only the air stirred around him. He remained frozen in his space.

I shook my head, reveling in the girl power and lust.
Definitely, worth it
. Closing the distance between us, I wrapped my arms around his neck. From that moment on, Jace took complete control.

With the kind of pleased look that could only mean something good—amazing, exceptional, extraordinary—was about to happen, he carried me to my bed.

I chuckled with my head pressed against his neck. Spicy, woodsy, him. “Show-off.”

He set me on the bed. “Just wait.”

Using his knee, he coaxed my legs apart, moving between them, the heat of the skin-to-skin contact intoxicating. He bent in and pressed a searing kiss against my lips, soft but demanding, his tongue probing, but gentle. There was no limit to the things he could do well, but I had a feeling this was his special gift, and I wanted to savor every moment, every touch, every kiss. He lowered me until my back touched the cool fabric of my blanket.

I tore my mouth away, gasping for breath. I needed a minute to get myself together before I lost the power of rational thought. “You might have a few too many clothes on for this.”

“You think?” He stood at his full height, looking down at me. I bit my lip. Something about this man had my body humming already.

“I do. I think you should take a few off, at least.”

He started with the bottom button of his shirt, and I leaned up on my elbows. “No. No. No, Jasper. Do it sexy.” He was a walking erogenous zone who I imagined could wash the dishes so sensually I would be turned on.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Well, you’re not getting in this bed until you do.”

He swiped and tapped on his phone for a few long seconds.

“Really, Jace? Texting now?”

“Patience, love.” After a few more taps, sensuous beats throbbed from the small speaker on his cell.

My mouth dropped open. “That, my friend, is not stripper music.”

As he made his way to the middle of the floor, confidence oozed from every step. “No, it’s better.”

And it was. The sound undulated around me, and I wanted to reach for him, touch every inch of his chest, his stomach his…all the way down.

Our gazes met.
Oh, my
. The slow rhythm was pure sex. “You have
that
on your phone?” I couldn’t summon more than a whisper.

His eyes glimmered with hunger as he came toward me. “It’s online.”