Текст книги "F*ck Buddy"

Автор книги: Scarlet North

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 7 страниц)

Jackie

She was right there at the line, sure she'd lose control as he pressed against her. He undressed slowly, almost daring her to make him rush, like he knew exactly what he was doing to her and relished it.

He, by all appearances, was in no hurry at all to get down to business, but Jackie was going to lose her fucking mind if he pushed her even an inch further past her limits.

And maybe he saw that in her eyes when he kicked the trousers fallen to his ankles off to the side and leaned in to kiss her, gently, permissively. It was almost... intentionally merciful the way he did it.

Then she felt the head of his length split her, so slowly she shivered against him involuntarily as he stretched her sex so wide, it pinched her skin to accommodate him.

He was massive.

Deepening their kiss, Jackie relished in the distraction of it, knowing what it was for now. He was probably accustomed to having to ease a girl onto his cock, and he already knew the fill of her intimately. Maybe he'd even been measuring her with his fingers to be sure.

Hissing with pleasure when he deepened his thrust, igniting a primal sway in her hips as the head of him brushed the sensitive spot that brought out the wild woman within, Jackie's eyes slipped closed and squeezed tight.

How was she going to let go of this?

Taking his thrusts as they increased their speed with the snake-like roll of his hips as he drove himself deep inside her, drenched in the outpour her sensitive spot released each time he hit it, Jackie cried out with abandon.

No man had ever made her cry out before. She moaned and writhed against him with a bodily hunger she hadn't known she had until that moment. She could feel him watching her, eyes gentle, deep-reaching, and intent, fixing on her as he rammed her against the wall, his hands cupping and squeezing her ass with each thrust.

Desire rolled over her in waves, and she found herself asking him with her eyes if she could come, yet. But she was met with a still, calm reserve.

He wasn't ready to be finished with her, and he was in control. Even as he was in service to her somehow. Jackie's head swam with overwhelm as her pleasure point pulsed, her sex flared with over-arousal, and when he finally leaned in to whisper, "Come for me," her peak tumbled out if her in a storm of wet.

Clamping around him as the waves of pleasured heat and electricity poured through her, she felt him seize, his cock jerking inside of her until it was now him flooding her with desire, sticky, hot, and marking.

She was on the pill, but there was still something very marked about that moment. She'd let him take her unprotected, and she should feel some kind of warning about it.

But she didn't.

It felt... right.

And that was the trouble.

He must have seen her mind trying to regain the wheel in that moment, because he reclaimed her tongue, already hard again inside of her. And just that quickly, she forgot all about the inner diva who insisted on wielding the sceptre.

By his design, she was sure.

Immersed in one another, they initiated every room in their art, on down to the hot pool. Until finally, around the time the roosters cleared their throats, they fell in a ragged, sweaty heap against the King-sized, four poster bed, tangled in one another's limbs like two parts of the same, wild beast.

~

Jackie woke abruptly.

It was like her psyche was shaking her to her senses and tapping its watch for her to "look at the time..." Right. She'd made a deal with herself, hadn't she? She may have shared her body, and damn near her soul, with him, but it was 'time's up.'

Liam.

His name vibrated through her like a force all its own. She'd really gotten herself into a bind with this one. Stealing a glance at him, Jackie drew a stilling breath. He was the closest thing to perfect she'd ever had the pleasure of encountering, but it couldn't last. These things never did. She had to think with her head screwed on properly. Like she'd assured herself she would. If she was going to hold onto her newfound self respect; it was time to go before the “good angel” had a chance to talk her out of it.

Rising from the bed slowly, careful not to disturb him, she fought past an intensifying pang in her gut that was already resisting her. Then dressing as soundlessly as she could, she made her way out of the room, closing the door with as quiet a click as she could manage.

Her heart fought her on it, though.

All the way down the stairs to the lobby, she felt a massive urge to turn back, but she stuck to her guns. It was the best way. It might be difficult now, but she'd get used to the new routine, and she'd suffer far less heartache because of it.

That's what she told herself, anyways, as she hailed a cabby from the row of professional cars waiting out front of the East Tower.

Starting at the buzz of the phone in her pocket, she waited for the cabby to get out and open the door for her. He probably thought she was ridiculously rich having exited the premises. Grimacing, Jackie realized she'd have to keep up the facade and over tip him. He had opened the door, after all. And, it was... kind of nice receiving the plush treatment.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she glanced at the blinking message reading: Mom. Donna probably wanted to meet about developing another variation of trail mix. Their sales numbers were going through the roof, so far. At the rate they were going, she'd have the year's tuition paid for in a half a year. If mom wanted to expand, as difficult as she could sometimes be to work with, Jackie was all for it.

Still, she'd wait to read the message after she showered. Dealing with Donna sometimes gave her a headache, and she'd rather not start the day like that. She had enough on her mind already.

Settling into the cushy seats of the cab, she tried and failed to force Liam from her thoughts. A new project might help her get him off her mind. The way his essence was lingering on her now, she had a feeling he wouldn't be so easy to shake from her memory.

“Where to, Miss?”

“240 Blakely, please.”

Returning the phone to her pocket, Jackie turned to glance at the East Tower once more, a pang of guilt and regret tingeing the feel of it. She'd thought about leaving a note, but decided that would be corny – an over-explanation at best. Waking up to see she'd gone was message enough. She didn't intend it to be a rude message, but how do you politely say “thanks for the sex, gotta go?”

You don't.

You let your absence speak for itself, or you'll be sucked right back in.

Liam

Reaching a hand to grab a breast from what was fast because becoming his favorite pair, Liam's eyes blinked open as his hand hit the bed beside him. Turning to confirm that there was, indeed, no body there, his heart sunk. But only for a moment. She could be in the “powder room” or downstairs in the lobby enjoying the amenities. She seemed adventurous like that.

Fighting past the feeling that he was slipping into denial over the obvious, he rose up from the bed, stretched, and headed toward the parlor. If her clothes were missing, and the room key was in the slot, she was gone.

Without so much as a word.

Clenching his jaw, he checked the slot with a tightening in his gut to find the key waiting where he'd tossed it. He fought past a sudden reluctance to make his way to the parlor, but fuck illusion. If she'd already left, there was no point in hanging around.

Drawing a breath, he made his way through the short hall leading into the parlor, his gut clenching to find it just as tidy as it had been when he'd rented the room. Her clothes? Gone. Yeah, she'd left. Didn't bother to say goodbye. Hadn't even offered her number.

Running his hands through his thick, gloss of hair, he leaned back against the wall, fighting the reaction to put a hole through the over-priced walls that were quickly taking on the feel of a trap. Had he overdone it? Would she have preferred a hole-in-the-wall motel?

Where did he go wrong?

It wasn't the sex.

Without arrogance, he knew without needing to fool himself that he'd more than satisfied her, multiple times before they'd passed out for the night. But for what ever reason, she'd decided to run, anyway, and there wasn't a whole hell of a lot he could do about that.

He'd been entertaining the thought that she might actually be his match. Maybe even... the one. But there was no way to tell how she actually felt. By all indications, she felt nothing beyond the physical satisfaction they'd shared.

Liam was lost in thought for a long time before he finally pushed off from the wall, got himself dressed, and closed out of the rental for the day. It was a lonely feeling leaving the hotel alone, though, as he slid into the driver's seat of his Mercedes and pulled out from the lower parking lot of the Dark Tower.

It's funny how quickly the right person can insert themselves into your life and make something that's typically run of the mill and everyday at its core seem like a chore now that you were doing it alone.

He must have expected that she'd eventually be riding in the passenger seat alongside him that morning, ready to see the studio and his apartment. The emptiness of realizing she'd obviously had no intentions of enjoying a Day 2 with him sat heavily in his gut, but he eventually pushed past it.

When he got home and showered, he got a few rounds of sparring off at the gym. It helped clear his mind well enough. That was until his father's assistant texted him to tell him there was a "new engagement," and his father expected him to be at the announcement breakfast on Wednesday.

Lovely.

Because it was always such a pleasure subjecting himself to his father's controlling bullshit. Liam felt sorry for his future mother-in-law already.

~

He didn't bother to go all out with his apparel selection. And he was only going for the sake of the poor, misguided woman who'd erringly accepted a marriage proposal from a man who would undoubtedly drop her when a shinier, prettier model presented herself.

The man had zero honor and an obsessive fixation on never aging (or appearing to, anyway). Liam's father wasn't a domestic sort of man, and his marriages, of which there'd been several, were always based on how his women made him look.

Rolling the cuffs of his button-down over his dinner coat, he straightened his smoky, argyle tie and took a final look at himself before grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

There hadn't been time that morning to stop at the gym again, but he already needed it. The mere thought of his father had a tendency to fuck with his nerves, and he could use the release. He'd jacked off twice the night before thinking of Jackie, but that had only resulted in making him feel emptier.

He'd have to get over it.

The last thing he wanted to do was become an internet stalker. She'd ignored the one message he'd left in her Two of Hearts box, and now he was absolutely sure that she'd been a one night deal. For whatever reason.

Maybe she'd met him with exactly that intention in mind.

Maybe she wasn't as nice as he thought.

Could be she played the good girl routine well, when in all actuality she had a man out of town. His head was so fucked up over it, it really didn't matter what the reason was now. He just had to get past it. Maybe he was enjoying the karma of his earlier exploits, with the shoe on the other foot and whatnot...

He'd certainly been that guy who didn't return the calls of the purely physical pastimes he'd engaged in. What goes around always comes around. But in fairness, he'd never led anyone to think they might get a call back. Sighing the more he thought about it, she hadn't either, had she?

Pulling into the parking lot of the gargantuan, Uptown bed & breakfast, Liam turned off the blaring death metal screeching through his speakers, courtesy of Pandora's matching algorithms, finding the angsty rockers hadn't made him feel a lick better. Usually music took the edge off, reined in the beast from wanting to get some aggression off, but today... nothing.

No matter. So long as he wasn't inhaling Häagen-Dazs in his gym shorts, tearing up watching Castaway for the 8,000th time, he still had his dignity.

“How long?” The unnecessarily, snooty valet asked, looking very much like he had something far better to do with his time. The new ones always behaved that way. You could usually tell which employees were new to working for the upper-crust by the newly-implanted chips they wore on their shoulders. This one would get the hint when he saw how paltry his tips were...

“Less than an hour.”

He wasn't staying a second longer than that.

Passing a bill into the valet's hands along with the key, he noted the slightly surprised look on the attendant's face. He'd figure out how much his attitude sucked when his tips barely rose above what he was accustomed to at less swanky valets, but Liam wasn't the stingy type. So he wouldn't be learning that lesson from him today.

Heading into the building, Liam gave the doorman a nod as he pulled the door open for him. He was tense, like he always was before a face-to-face with his father. The judgment in his father's eyes alone was enough to fuck up an entire day. He hadn't learned how to shake that off, yet. Hadn't learned how to forgive him for leaving him and his brother to the life they'd had to suffer for way too long.

The bastard hadn't even visited them.

Oh, he'd sent packages of things (that always ended up being sold off for mama's 'medicine'), but his gifts hadn't meant a thing in the end because even for the day they might be enjoyed before they disappeared from their rooms, none of those afterthought items had their dad's heart in them.

His assistant had probably picked that shit out.

Approaching the podium to the Rose Room, he gave the attendant a nod.

“I'm here for the Cross Breakfast.”

Perking up, the older man gave him a pleasant smile.

“Absolutely, right through this door.”

“Thanks.”

Following the direction the attendant gestured him towards, Liam clenched and unclenched his jaw. Here went nothing. Lifting his eyes to take in the round table at the end of the room, he saw that he was already late. Probably the one everyone was waiting on. There were a few new faces, assistants probably, his half-brother, dad, the new toy, all sitting at the table, one guest had her back to him. Maybe his new sis-to-be.

Sighing, Liam drew closer, meeting his father's eyes with a barely reined in spark of rebellion.

“Glad you could tear away from your busy schedule.”

Clenching and unclenching his right fist, Liam bit back a far more cutting comment and pulled out the one unoccupied chair at the table.

“Oh, he's handsome,” an attractive, older blonde commented, covering his father's hand and smiling brightly at him.

“Donna, this is my eldest son, Liam.

"Hi Liam."

"Hello."

Liam tensed, then following the direction of a slight gasp, his eyes widened to find the last face he expected to see sitting at the table, directly across from him: Jackie.

Just. No. This... wasn't happening.

Jackie

Nearly choking on the drink she lifted to mask her surprise, Jackie's mind took into a chaotic race. Two things were horrifically wrong with this picture.

One: the man she was avoiding was sitting right there across from her, so close he could reach out and touch her – which would surely result in her panties falling off.

Two: this man, who'd ravaged her body like no one before him ever had two nights before was going to be her stepbrother.

Actually... make that three things.

The third being the sketchy zillionaire her mother was foolishly agreeing to marry.

Avoiding Liam's eyes, she trained her gaze ahead of her, carefully setting the mimosa she'd ordered back down in front of her. With any luck, her mother wouldn't prompt her to actually engage Liam directly. She'd be unlikely to avoid him now, but she could at least gather her bearings before she had to have anything close to resembling a conversation.

“Jackie, darling. Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost?”

“Just fine, Mom. Can we order?”

Her mother had that taken aback look she'd perfected over the years, but Jackie ignored it and lifted up the menu, wishing she could disappear into it completely. Could her life be any more fucked? I mean, seriously... Had she just spent a torrid, off-the-charts hot evening with a man who was two words away from being her brother?

Just her luck, right?

Maybe the universe was telling her to be a good girl, after all. To resolve herself to the ill treatment of men, and take it as it comes. Which would suck if that's the message she was to take from all of this. Because she really didn't want to be that girl anymore. She'd had about all of the unfair heartache she could take. If her only option was to be the doormat to assholes who had no idea what they truly wanted in a relationship, she might as well start checking animal shelters now for the 10 cats who'd become her house companions well into her retirement years.

“I've had a chance to sample the trail mix line your mother has developed. Second to none. I'm told you're behind the recipe?”

Jackie suppressed the urge to glare at her mom's new squeeze.

The line her mother developed? Really?

They'd developed it together, thank you. It was a business venture with two women at the helm. And probably the one thing her mother didn't have anal-retentive control over where their relationship was concerned. Mostly because their contract made Jackie's approval an integral part of anything that took place with VitaGourmet.

“Yeah, thanks.”

It was all she could manage.

The man made her skin crawl. He had the sort of crocodile smile that made him look oddly constipated for such a distinguished looking, older man. It suggested he had a very hard time smiling genuinely, or that he didn't actually feel anything to know what sort of emotion to base a smile off of.

Basically, he had the look of a predator in a shiny suit, and if his business reputation was anything to go on, he'd done his fair share of shady shit to get where he was today.

“Well, we've been talking about expanding it. I'd be a silent partner, of course.”

Jackie's gaze made a beeline to her mother, who she shot a vitriolic, silent communication to – which her mother promptly shrunk away from. How dare she discuss business with anyone without her at the table? It was a clear breach of contract. She didn't care if she was her daughter. Where VitaGourmet was concerned, Jackie was the flipping CEO.

Fortunately for both of them, the good angel had decided to pay a visit, and she fought past gritted teeth to save her rant for a later conversation with mommy dearest.

“Send your proposal over, and I'll have a look at it,” she answered nonchalantly. “How's the eggplant?”

She could feel the old man's flare of tension at her rudeness but couldn't be bothered to care. He probably wasn't accustomed to being treated with indifference. She couldn't bring herself to pander to him, though. If he truly wanted to go into business with them, he'd need to know she wouldn't accept anything less than respect.

Shifting uncomfortably, she strained to keep from looking up and meeting Liam's eyes, hot as his gaze felt on her skin. Could things be anymore fucked up than this? And what if she had decided to listen to the good angel and give him a shot? They'd have been forced to part, any way. Thanks to this odd, skin-crawling “engagement” her mother had wandered into while no one was looking.

She'd known her mom was going through a mid-life crisis, but she'd never imagined it would end in a union with a man who would undoubtedly drop her when she wasn't shiny to him, anymore.

Gary Cross didn't look the sort of man to commit to any one thing for long. Hell, his business acquisitions alone made it clear he was a man of action who regularly needed “something new” to train his attentions on.

“The eggplant and everything else on the menu is top notch,” came his response.

He was butt hurt, and his tone made that clear. Should she feel ashamed that she drew a slight bit of satisfaction from that? After all, their little union was already creating complications in her life that she'd set her mind to avoiding. One in particular with a name that gave her a physical reaction.

Stealing a glance, her eyes locked with his.

Fuck.

“Honey, you're being rude. Introduce yourself. Liam's going to be your brother, after all.”

A pit fell in her stomach.

Damn it, Mom.

“We've met.”

Oh dear God, no. Please, no.

Was he going to out them? He seemed the type, especially if he was feeling jilted.

“Oh. Well, what a small world.”

Her mother smiled nervously and quickly turned her attention to the chardonnay she'd ordered.

“It certainly is,” Liam responded gruffly.

Sniffing, Jackie broke gaze with him, unable to handle the intensity in his eyes for longer than a half-second. It was like looking into the sun. And she knew full well the passion he contained in that model perfect body of his. It was part of the reason she'd held to the decision to run away; she had no intention of being burned.

“Yeah, I'll have the eggplant.”

The click of her soon to be step-creep's fingertips struck the air, and the server who'd made a fixture of herself came off of her stand by the wall to make her way over to them. Jackie rambled out her order, and Liam followed her lead with his own. Following that, an uncomfortable silence descended the table.

“So, um, we're very excited. We've decided to fast track the wedding to next month. The official announcement to the media will take place next week. We'd love it if you all could be there to celebrate with us,” her mother eeked out meekly. She'd addressed Liam's half-brother, too, but he quickly averted his eyes to something else.

The reason for the tension at the table might not be clear, but it was palpable enough to put everyone on their guard. Maybe she thought moving onto the business at hand would lighten things up, but it only served to dash Jackie's spirits further. Their wedding announcement would eclipse all of the hard work they'd done for VitaGourmet, and make it his thing. He had the bigger name, and dear old mom would become another one of his properties. Jackie wasn't at all keen on being perceived as one of his belongings, by proxy.

To celebrate publicly.

What a joke.

There was nothing to celebrate. The circus they were engaging in was going to fuck up everything they'd worked for, and it was already creating more of a situation than necessary with her stepbrother-in-the-making. She'd known her mom's invitation was going to lead to a breakfast that made a visit to the dentist seem more pleasant, but she hadn't expected it would turn her world upside down.

Yet, here they were.