I don’t talk to Jared again for the remainder of the night. But I do finally get to see Cleo’s crush play on stage a half an hour later. She’s right; he’s totally gorgeous and has that whole Enrique Iglesias thing going for him. But if the man who’s blowing him kisses by the side of the stage, the one he keeps smiling at while he’s singing, is any indication, then yep, he’s definitely gay.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” Cleo mumbles when we make our way out onto the street.
Isla pats her back, and feeling kind of bad for her, I blurt, “Hey, spank bank material, though, right?” I waggle my brows which makes her laugh.
“So right,” Isla agrees. “Come on; let’s all go stay at my place and watch Mean Girls.”
I kind of just want to go home, but I’d never turn down open commentary while watching Mean Girls.
“Frost.” My feet stop moving instantly. I could’ve sworn I saw him leave with the blonde a while ago. A weird sense of relief fills my chest at the fact he’s still here, which means he probably didn’t.
“We’ll catch you later.” Cleo smirks. Isla looks hesitant to leave, but I give her a reassuring smile. “I think I want to go home anyway. I’ll text you when I get there.”
She nods but points two fingers at her eyes then at Jared, who just laughs, before she walks off with Cleo to hail a cab down the street.
“Already finished with your country star for the night?” My hands burrow into the pockets of my shawl. The air carries a bite to it that has me wishing I was at home in a hot bath with a book.
He straightens from the wall he was leaning against, eyes never leaving mine as he stubs out his cigarette and tosses the butt into the trash can next to him. “Stella? She’s a friend.” He swaggers over to where I’m standing underneath a street lamp with a poster for a missing cat taped to it. I tilt my head, looking up into his face as the light from the lamp extinguishes the shadows from his beautifully sculpted features. “With benefits?”
He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Yeah, sometimes.”
White-hot jealousy ignites low in my stomach. That he would return to the same woman, give her something that he gave me … This is getting messy, and I know I should go. Yep, I should definitely move my stupid feet and go. But damn it all to hell, I can’t. I want him, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’ve never done well with the whole sharing thing, being a spoiled, only child. Or maybe it’s because I know I can’t really have him, which only makes me want him more. I don’t know, but whatever it is, when he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his warm chest, the only thing I do know is that I don’t think I can ignore it.
“Come home with me?” His voice is soft, like butter, wrapping around my self-control and completely smothering it. His eyes plead while his breath comes in short bursts that heat my lips when he lowers his head.
“Why didn’t you leave with her?”
His dark brows lower. “I thought that would be obvious, seeing as I’m standing here with you.”
Oh. Well, when he says it like that. “But I saw you leave with—”
“Frost.” He cuts in. “I walked her out and waited here for you. She’s pissed, but she’ll get over it.”
When I just stare at him, he lowers his lips to rest them over mine, whispering, “Say you’re mine for tonight because I don’t think I’m ready for our fun to be over yet.”
My eyes flutter closed, and I nod. The movement causes our lips to brush together and bends me further to his will. I pull away. “Fine. But you’re washing your mouth out ten times before I allow it anywhere near me.”
He chuckles, grabbing my hand and walking with me down the street to a huge, old white truck.
“You can even watch me do it,” he offers, opening the passenger door for me. I climb in and put my seat belt on before quickly firing off a text to Isla about my plans for the night, telling her I’ll call her tomorrow sometime.
“Where do you work?” My eyes drop to the set of coveralls on the seat beside me. He watches the road, flicking the turn signal on and turning down a dark street.
“Surface Rust,” he says. “We do anything from mechanical repairs to body work on both Harleys and older model cars.”
“Interesting choice of name.”
A tiny smile curls his mouth to one side. “So I’ve been told.”
“So you’re a mechanic?” That explains the dirty clothes he was wearing at the coffee shop. I turn in my seat to look at him better. “What’s with the valet job, then?”
He shrugs, turning down another street. “I am that, as well as many other things, I guess. And the Hedgington calls when they need staff for events; the cash is too good to turn down.” He seems to be thinking about something before he continues, “It was my foster father’s business, Surface Rust. He taught my brother and me everything we know. He left it to us. We changed the name and a whole lot of other shit, too.”
Don’t ask any more … “Your brother works with you, then?”
It appears my self-control is nonexistent when I’m in the presence of this man.
“He did. Does, I mean.” He changes the subject. “What about you? Do you spend your days as a lady of leisure?” he asks with another curl to his lip.
“I don’t, not exactly.” I don’t know why I tell him what I’m about to say next. Why I care what he thinks or knows about me. It just comes out. “I work part time for my father. But I think he still sees me as a spoiled child who doesn’t know how to do anything.”
He frowns. “What do you do for him?”
“I work in the accounting department at Bramston Inc.”
He coughs out a laugh. “Sorry, what?”
It’d sting if his response wasn’t expected. “You heard me.”
He chuckles, glancing over at me briefly then turns into the driveway of a small, run-down yellow house. The paint on the wood exterior is peeling in places, and the landscaping is virtually nonexistent. But despite looking like it’s in need of an extreme makeover, the lawn is mowed, no junk is lying around, and it all looks … tidy—quaint even.
“Home sweet home.” Jared turns off the truck. “I know it’s not anything like you’re used to, but—”
I take off my seat belt and open the door. “I don’t care.”
After slamming it closed, I make my way to the porch and walk up the wooden steps to his front door. He unlocks it and swings it open for me to walk in ahead of him.
I scream when something touches my leg. Jared laughs, leaning down to pick up a fluffy ginger cat. “Toulouse, meet Vera; Vera, meet Toulouse.” He holds it in the air in front of my face. “Shit, you’re not allergic, are you?” He goes to pull him away, but I reach forward and surprise myself by hesitantly laying my hand on his soft head, patting him gently.
“Toulouse,” I mutter quietly. “Like the Aristocats?”
He nods. “Yeah, ah, long story.” He lowers him to the worn floorboards, and Toulouse looks disgruntled. He lifts his head to look at me, purring and trotting over to weave between my legs. It makes me laugh, and I can’t help myself; I lean down to pat him again.
“He’s very friendly,” I blurt out.
I look up when Jared remains quiet. His eyes are on me, and he’s frowning for some reason.
“What?”
He’s quick to reply. “Nothing. You ever had a pet?”
I shake my head. “My father wouldn’t allow it. He said they were a waste of time and money.”
He lets out another disbelieving laugh. “That’s a bit harsh.”
My shoulders lift into a shrug. I stand and walk down the hall until I find his kitchen where I wash my hands while Jared mumbles something about going to wash his mouth out. I bite my lip, grinning, and walk back down the hall. I find his living room, which houses a few old recliners and a couch that looks as old as I am.
There’s a giant flat screen sitting on an old coffee table. And where a coffee table should sit are three car tires stacked into a mini tower with what looks to be a wooden plank sitting on top. I feel him stop behind me, his hands land on my hips, and I stiffen. Warm, minty breath washes over my ear when he whispers, “Miss me?”
Goose bumps rise, blazing a trail over my neck and shoulders. “You’d like for me to say yes, wouldn’t you?” My voice is quiet but challenging.
He nudges his nose into my neck, smoothing his hands over my stomach. “Fuck yes, I would.”
Humming, I respond with a breathy whisper, “But then I’d have to ask if you missed me, and that’s making things a bit too complicated, don’t you think?”
Soft lips graze over my skin. “I suppose you’re right.”
He spins me around, barely giving me a second to look at him before his mouth is touching mine. With my stomach tumbling over itself, I wrap my arms around his neck and tilt my head, my tongue sneaking out to skim over his top lip. That’s all it takes. Like an elastic band drawn too tight, he snaps, and the aftermath is devastatingly perfect.
My eyes close as soon as his mouth presses into mine with a force that has me moaning. His hand tangles in my hair, threading through the long strands roughly while his tongue dances with mine. Teeth nip my bottom lip, dragging over it before he pulls back, breathing heavy. I open my eyes to find his hooded ones on me.
Then he’s pulling my shawl off and my dress up and over my head before throwing them to the floor behind me. I’m so turned on, so lost in this desperation gnawing at my insides, that I don’t even care he might’ve damaged a five-hundred-dollar dress. Trying to unclasp my bra, I’m distracted as I watch him take off his belt. I grab his jeans, unzipping his fly, and then shove them down his muscular thighs to the floor, biting my lip as he steps out of them. He rips his shirt over his head then his arms are scooping me up and wrapping my legs around his waist.
His mouth comes back to mine while he walks down the hallway into a dark room. I don’t take in anything about it; I’ve got other things to do like trying to suck his tongue into my mouth and sinking my fingers into his thick hair. He drops me to his bed, the black and gray sheets unmade beneath my bare legs.
“Pussy and tits out, now,” he demands roughly. The usual playfulness in his features is now gone, replaced by a wicked kind of longing that makes his green orbs almost glow in the dark room as he watches me. He tugs his blue boxer briefs down, and my eyes zero in on his impressive length. It twitches and bobs against his lower stomach when he reaches into a drawer in an old wooden night table.
Condom, right. I snap out of it and kick my boots off then tug the straps of my bra down my arms, tossing it to the end of the bed before pulling my matching panties down my legs. He climbs onto the bed, sheathing himself, and then spreads my thighs wide open.
“Still bare.” His eyes dart from my pussy to my face, wearing a pleased smile.
It makes me squirm, that and knowing he can probably see how turned on I am. “Touch me, already.”
He tsks. “Frost, the second you walked in my front door, you handed over any power you thought you had. The only thing I want to hear from those sexy as fuck lips of yours are yes, please, more, harder, Jared, Jared your cock is amazing, and don’t stop, I’m coming.”
My eyes narrow, and I growl even as my stomach somersaults.
He chuckles, his eyes still fixated between my legs. “I’m not opposed to cursing either, especially from that mouth of yours. And don’t try to argue.” He releases my leg, running the rough pad of his finger over my slit with such gentleness that it’s barely a touch at all. “This doesn’t lie.”
“Jared …” I don’t even know what I was going to say because the look in his eyes when they meet mine halts all train of thought. His features grow taut with obvious restraint when his eyes roam over my body. “Holy fucking Christ, you really are too beautiful …”
I frown at his muttered words, not knowing whether to take them as a compliment, especially with the hard look that accompanied their journey past his lips.
He moves forward, sitting on his knees and raising my ass to rest on his thighs. I’ve never been in this position, so openly laid out, my legs spread wide, my ankles hovering in the air by his sides. My sex is mere inches from his defined abs. His finger, which is still trailing idle strokes over my mound, suddenly parts it, and his green eyes watch his every move with rapt attention.
I revel in the way his chest, coated in a tiny sprinkling of hair, rises then falls harshly while he plays with me gently. When he teases my entrance, I suck in a sharp breath.
“You know …” he says, eyes still pinned to his own ministrations while he trails wetness up to my clit and circles it. “I had planned to fuck you. Thought I would just bend you over and be done with it. That that’d be all I’d need to get you out of my system.”
“Oh?” I ask, though it’s more of a croaky rasp as he continues to tease my swollen clit and entrance repeatedly.
He nods. “Yeah. Just one more quick fuck. But you see, I failed to see the error in my brilliant idea. Because you’re the type of girl who needs to be played with first.” He huffs out a breath. “Shit, your body practically demands it.” He thrusts his finger inside, and my eyes squeeze closed. “And I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed playing with my food this much before eating my fill.”
My lungs constrict as all the air empties from them; his one thumb is now rubbing my clit while he thrusts the other slowly in and out of me. “When you’re done with discussing food… maybe you’d like to make me …” I break off into a long moan, panting when he presses down firmly on my clit. Heat like molten lava spreads through every vein, every artery, as my body races toward climax. “Please make me come,” I manage to finish with.
He removes his hands, and I whimper, my eyes flashing open to glare icy daggers at him.
“What did I say, Frost?”
Him and that stupid nickname. I could scream right now.
“Yeah, yeah, you said not to talk. But if you don’t make me come right now, I’m going to scream,” I warn him through clenched teeth.
He throws his head back with a loud laugh, and my frustration ebbs and disappears at the deep, hypnotizing sound of it.
This man. Where did he come from? I’m starting to feel a little scared but not for my safety. My heart pounds furiously while I stare up at his smiling face. I worry that that smile and the sound of his laughter might just stay imprinted in my memory long after this night is over. I knew this was a bad idea, yet I was unable to say no—not to him and not to my own selfish wants.
“Such a greedy, demanding princess, aren’t you? And be my guest. I’d love to hear you scream; just make sure it’s my name.” He ducks his head and lifts my hips, bringing me to his mouth. My head thrashes around in the tangled sheets when his tongue opens me and swipes over my entrance before roughly flicking my clit. One, two, three times … and on the fifth swipe, I’m breaking apart, trembling and whimpering as pure bliss embraces every cell in my body. His tongue gently strokes, drawing out my orgasm and then his lips are kissing my mound.
Breathing heavily, I open my eyes when he lowers my hips to the bed and then kisses a path up my stomach to my breasts. “You’re a sight to behold when you come … I think I’m going to keep you overnight,” he says gruffly, taking a nipple into his mouth while squeezing my other breast. His hips lower, and his hard length rubs over the wetness between my legs. He moves over to the other nipple, giving it the same attention until his teeth scrape over the hardened peak and I start to squirm again.
I grab his head, needing his lips on mine more than I need to take my next breath. He doesn’t put up much of a fight; no, he just smirks before nipping my chin and giving me what I want. I get feverish from the velvety feel of his tongue stroking mine and his coarse stubble grazing my skin. My legs wind around his defined hips. Locking my ankles together at his back, I then use my feet to push down on his smooth ass. He groans into my mouth when I rock and grind against him.
“Fuck …” He tears his lips away and one of his arms disappear from beside my head to move between us and align him. Then he’s pushing forward, slowly working himself inside and bringing his arm back to hold himself above me.
He stares, watching me while I adjust to his size. I do the same, my eyes widening at the delicious feel of him filling me to the hilt and searing me in the best kind of way. His eyes are glazed over with barely contained control, his nostrils flaring as he blows a gust of breath out of them.
“You feel like fucking perfection,” he blurts before frowning and then lowering his mouth to rest over mine. His hips rotate, stretching and getting me used to him before he starts to lose control. “Gonna fuck you now, beauty.”
I nod, at a loss for words. This feels so good. Too good. And I’m not sure the words he requested I say would even come out of my mouth.
He rises on his forearm, grabbing one of my legs and hooking it over his shoulder. Then he’s thrusting harder, deeper, faster. My brain turns to sludge as sensation overload takes me as its willing prisoner.
“Fuck, yeah,” he rasps, eyes locked on my breasts, watching them bounce with the joining of our heated bodies. He lifts his hand to roughly palm one. My eyes shut, and I surrender to the overwhelming feelings, touches, sounds, and his scent, which is filling this entire room. I’ve always liked sex, what I’ve had of it anyway, but shit, I never knew I could love it or become mindless from it. I never knew it could be like this. Earth shattering in its intensity, magical with its ability to stop time, and heart seizing in the unexpected feelings it can awaken.
“Open your eyes.”
They open to see him turn his head to kiss the inside of my knee hooked over his shoulder, his thrusts still deep yet slowing down. “You okay?” His brows pull tight as he clearly tries to keep himself under control while he waits for my answer.
“Yes, harder, please.” The words leave my mouth in a barely audible whisper, which only makes him frown further. I swivel my hips, trying to encourage him to keep going.
He stares for another heartbeat then slowly picks up speed again until he’s fucking me with deep, fast, and measured strokes that have me burning from the inside out every time he hits that spot inside me.
He moves my legs around his waist and lowers himself back down, ducking his face into my neck and sucking. The sound of his grunts and groans as I start to clench tightly around him takes me right to the edge. His hand moves behind my head, tangling into my hair when he says in a hoarse voice, “Do it. I wanna feel you come all over my cock, beauty.”
Then I’m free-falling into a fog of pleasure-shrouded ecstasy all over again.
His thrusts speed up then stop abruptly. I barely hear him over the sound of my moaning as he groans, “Shiiiit.” His big body shudders over mine.
I wrap my arms around him after he collapses on top of me, running my nails up and down his back while we both try to catch our breath. After a few minutes, he says, “Yeah, I hope you like my cock as much as I think you do ‘cause you’re not going home tonight.”
I laugh, and the sound feels too loud in the quiet room. He chuckles, kissing my neck before rolling over and bringing me with him to lay across his chest.