Jasper

As I climbed the stairs and unlocked the door to my apartment, I told myself not to be stupid. I was born in the day, but not yesterday, and Mina Cohen was not simply curious about me. She was a terrible liar, and it didn’t add up, unless she was the crazy type that obsessed over men and had developed some sick attraction to me during the brief time we’d been in the same courtroom years ago.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t a cock tease.

She was absolutely gorgeous, and I had to assume she got her looks from her mother, since her father was nothing special. And she had this scent about her that I didn’t know whether to contribute to perfume or her natural smell. It was intoxicating.

And none of those assessments came from a desperate need to get laid. My libido had been dormant for a long time, since before I went into the system, and this was the first time I’d felt a twitch. My physical reaction had shocked me to the point that I’d almost forgotten why I’d gotten in her car to start with. My palms were sweaty. What the hell was that about?

Even now, I had to adjust myself inside my jeans, just thinking about the way her lips curved around the edge of the coffee cup and the way she brushed her white-blonde hair back from her face, as if it annoyed her beyond tolerance. She should cut it if it bothered her, but something inside me wanted to shove my fingers deep into the mass before she did.

I tossed my coffee cup angrily in the trash and launched my keys across the room onto the counter. Whatever was wrong with me, I had to get it under control. My only goal here was to figure out what she was up to. Did she know about the list I had? Or was she beyond that, trying to set me up because she felt like I destroyed her life in some way? I didn’t know enough about women today to understand them, other than that so many of them would go to incredible, insane lengths to punish someone for some perceived wrong.

Cindy had been an exception to the rule.

I put that thought out of my head right away. I’d suffered enough, carried around a lot of anger and pain for too long, and I had to let it go. That didn’t mean I needed to go on a spree, sleeping with anything that had two legs and a pretty smile. Besides, even by those standards, I didn’t need to think about Mina like that. She had never smiled at me.

I took a cold shower.

By the time I got out, shivering and cursing myself, I was thinking more rationally, and I realized I didn’t believe a word Mina said. She had another agenda, and I had to find out what it was. I was almost positive I’d catch her following me tonight when I left for the seedy bar where I’d landed the bouncer gig. She wouldn’t give up that easily, and I probably would have been disappointed in her if she had, since she seemed a lot stronger than that.

The question was, how would I get her to own up to the truth? I couldn’t exactly tail her, since I fully believed she wasn’t done dogging my heels. So, I had to find another way. In the past, I would have lost her and broke into her place, looking for clues. But I didn’t think that was smart. I could only imagine the security system she’d have after my previous intrusion, and I doubted I’d find anything of informational value.

I could probably get my hands on one of those paintings I tried to nab before, but that would be royally stupid. I’d be the first man fingered, and I wouldn’t have time to take a piss, much less stash the loot, before I had cops up my ass.

There was another alternative, though, and I’d already made a move in the right direction.

I’d always hated hearing people say that you should keep your friends close and your enemies closer, but do a stint in a state penitentiary and you’ll learn how important that philosophy is. If I’d accomplished nothing else today by getting into Mina’s car, I’d surprised her, and not just by showing up. She’d been floored when I apologized for hurting her family. It was written all over her face, just like every other emotion. She needed a game face because I could see right through her.

So, she might be curious enough now to accept an invitation on a second date, a real one. And if I could keep up the charm that I’d been accused of using with devious intent before, I could seduce her. If she was in my bed, it wouldn’t matter what she’d wanted to start with. Those plans would float away like fucking bubbles in the wind. And I’d probably hear them in a moment of weakness after she had a mind-blowing orgasm anyway.

And, if I was honest with myself, I would be able to scratch that itch that still hadn’t quite gone away. The one that demanded I find out just what kind of underwear she wore under all that black and whether or not she shaved. I hated to admit it, but I wasn’t going to get over that anytime soon, unless I did something about it.

Blowing out a long breath and weighing out the consequences of investing that much time and energy into a pseudo-relationship that was bound to end badly, I dressed for work. I preferred all black, too, and I looked like a badass with the motorcycle boots, the collared shirt, and my hair slicked back. I left the stubble – it gave me a rough, stern look that I thought might help intimidate the drunken men who couldn’t seem to control themselves. One thing I could say about working at the particular type of joint I did – it was never a slow or boring night for me.

I was early enough that I didn’t need to push the bike, so I cruised down the highway toward Brooklyn. Without a tail. Maybe I’d misjudged Mina. Or maybe she was just trying to throw me off the scent. She was smart enough to know I’d be looking for her, right? Then again, I might have her so confused she just needed time to think. I liked that idea. That’s the one I went with.

John paid me on arrival, knowing I wasn’t leaving till the last patron was out and on his way home. It was a cash job, off the books. A felony on your record can really screw you when it comes to landing a real job, but John was more than fair. I knew what he paid the other bouncers, and it was far less than I got. But I was the one who did the ass kicking, so I didn’t think it was unfair.

Neither did my stomach. I liked food.

The debauchery began early, and I had two guys on the ground without an hour. They were promptly thrown out on their asses, followed by a group of kids who were probably too young to be there anyway, snorting something and then getting rowdy. I took a break, heading outside for a smoke, and then it was back to the grind. The night went by in a blur, and I nursed a beer as I waited for the last waitress to pack up so I could walk her to the train. Then, I went back to my bike and headed home, feeling restless and lonely.

Maybe being locked up sucked in a lot of ways, like not having any privacy, but I’d gotten used to having a cellmate, and that made my empty little closet of an apartment seem huge and empty by comparison. And at four in the morning, it doesn’t matter if you live in a postage stamp in the Bronx, right above some kids who dance to Latino music late into the night. You can’t blast the music to keep you company. So, I put in my ear buds, cranked up the volume on my phone, and tuned into one of those streaming apps, finding a station for 90s Seattle rock. I laid back on the couch, not ready to climb into bed but not having the energy to do anything else, and let my mind drift.

But I’d been up for almost 24 hours and must have drifted off because I woke to the sound of someone knocking on my door.

Mina

I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I wasn’t sleeping anyway. I’d discovered that I liked getting up early, felt more alive, and I was awake anyway. So, I got dressed, got in the car, and drove. I parked the Mercedes in a lot three blocks away and walked to the coffee shop across the street from Jasper’s apartment building, where I could watch the door. I’d know the moment he came out.

But when he hadn’t appeared by 6:45, I grew restless. Where was he? He’d been out of his apartment at six the past two days. Something in the back of my mind nagged me, and I decided to buy a couple of pastries and two coffees, and I trudged across the street. I walked up the two flights of stairs and knocked on his door, only then realizing I had no idea what I was doing or why. I would have turned around, but I could already hear him padding to the door and turning the locks.

Jasper blinked at me with bleary, tired eyes, his hair mussed, and one ear bud hanging down his neck with the other one crooked in his ear. He was shirtless, in a pair of jeans, and I couldn’t help but notice he looked particularly enticing. And completely surprised.

Good. I owed him one.

“You look exhausted,” I said to break the silence as he just stood there and stared at me like I had four heads and three tits. I felt bad for saying it. It wasn’t the kindest of greetings.

He grunted and scratched his chin. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven.” I held up the coffee and bag with the pastries. “I thought you might be hungry, since you seem to have overslept.”

“And I thought you might be telling the truth about not following me,” he countered with a lazy smirk. It put a dimple in his cheek, and I thought he looked like a model. Not GQ or Abercrombie, maybe, but maybe the cover of whatever the women’s version of Hustler would be.

I felt my cheeks grow warm at that thought, and I cleared my throat. “I didn’t intend to stalk you anymore, but I woke up bored.” It was probably the most honest I’d been with him so far.

He pushed the door all the way open and stepped back. “Well, I’m working on less than three hours’ sleep, so I suppose coffee and company might do me some good. Come in.”

I hesitated. Had I really invited myself into the lion’s den? What was wrong with me? I didn’t need to be inside the apartment of the man who had destroyed my family, taken my father from me before his time. But I couldn’t walk away now, or I’d look entirely guilty of something more than ‘curiosity.’ So, I crossed the threshold and held my breath as he shut and locked the door behind me.

I looked around, but as he turned and walked away, I couldn’t keep my eyes on the haphazard furniture that looked like it was all collected off the street and repurposed. All I could see was the way the jeans hugged his hips, which were narrow and sharp. And the way they cupped his ass, like they’d been tailored for his body.

My mouth fell open, and I was glad he faced the other way. Why would I think something like that? It was obnoxious and vulgar, and it had to stop immediately. There was no excuse for the direction my mind was headed, and I had to get myself under control. “So, why didn’t you sleep?” I asked, trying to turn the conversation to something that didn’t involve my overactive libido.

“I did, after I got home from work. Then, someone with a pretty face and breakfast knocked on my door and woke me up. Lucky for her, one of my ear buds fell out while I slept.” He glanced over his shoulder at me with a smile that would have had lesser women melting. But I wasn’t going to succumb to the charm, even if my heart did beat a little faster and my whole body tingled with heat.

“Don’t butter me up, Jasper. Save the butter for the pastries.” I handed him the bag, realizing just how small his place was. The kitchen – which could barely be considered a kitchenette – was practically part of the living room, and the two together were about the size of my en suite. I glanced toward the two doors that stood ajar off the main room. I could see a sink through the crack of one – the bathroom. The light was on in the other, and a made bed and a dresser stood in there, taking up most of the floor space. The whole apartment would have fit in my kitchen, and I wondered what it would be like to downsize.

Just…not this small.

“Thanks, by the way,” he said, drawing my attention back. “I’m actually starving. I was so tired I didn’t eat anything last night. Or this morning. Whatever.” He shook his head. “I’m a little turned around on time right now. I’m used to early mornings, but I tend to wake with the sun, not fall asleep to it.”

I frowned, realizing he had every right to be pissed off at me for interrupting his sleep. And yet, he was being a gracious host, putting the pastries on plates and sticking them in the microwave to heat them up and getting out cream and sugar for the coffee. I didn’t like it one bit. I wanted to hate him, but he was making that incredibly difficult. “You’re welcome,” I said, for lack of any other response. “So, how was work?” I slid into one of the two chairs at the tiny breakfast table, feeling very out of place. I had outfits that probably cost more than all his furnishings, but then, what did he have when he got out? And did I really want to see him living in the lap of luxury?

“Eventful. As per usual.” He placed a dish in front of me with a steaming pastry drenched in butter. I worked out on a regular basis and avoided heavy calorie meals like this. But it was cozy, and my mouth watered as the aroma of the butter and sugar wafted up to my nostrils. I couldn’t resist, and I picked up the fork he laid down for me, cutting off a piece as he sat across from me. “You don’t really want to know about my job.”

It was a definitive statement, and I frowned at him. “Why would you say that? You’re a bouncer, right? I’m sure it’s interesting.”

He pointed his fork at me, looking a little irritated for the first time. “Don’t play games. My place of employment is so far beneath you, it’s not even a speck on your radar. I can’t imagine you’ve ever stepped foot in a place with ten times the class it has.”

I didn’t know whether to be offended or amused. “And what about you? Have you ever been to a swanky club in Manhattan?”

He nodded. “Sure have.”

Now, I was intrigued. “Really?” I wanted to ask questions, but I knew what he was doing. “Well, we’ll come back to that. Right now, I want you to tell me about work last night.” I put the bite in my mouth and sighed as it practically melted on my tongue.

Did his eyes drop to my lips? I hoped not. I ignored his look as he shrugged. “Fine. I had to stop two guys fighting over whose turn it was to buy a round of cheap tequila. They were featherweights full of beer and liquor, so I barely had to lift a pinky. Then, this group of Prozac kids slumming it decided to draw up some lines on a table at the back, so I wiped it up with a beer-soaked rag and kicked their asses right out the door.”

I tilted my head, trying to comprehend. “Drawing lines?”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Cocaine.”

I made an ‘o’ with my mouth. I probably looked incredibly naïve and sheltered, and I averted my eyes, not wanting him to see my embarrassment.

“Well, that says a lot about your upbringing, at least,” he chuckled. Jasper had this laugh that seemed to roll off him, and it was so genuine it made me smile. I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever heard any of my friends laugh with such abandon. “Anyway, that was just the beginning. I had a woman stripping and dancing on the bar and a bunch of guys trying to grope her. I had to get her in a cab, and then I had to wrangle several of the guys who wanted to go after her.”

It was like something out of a movie. “Was she hot?” My hand flew to my mouth. I couldn’t believe I’d asked that.

Although his eyes widened, Jasper just laughed. “I didn’t think so, but I wasn’t drunk. She was a little heavy and old for my taste. And she was brunette. I like blondes.”

He winked at me, and I nearly choked on my food. It was a blatant come on, and I didn’t know what was worse – his overconfidence in going there or my weakness in liking it. It wasn’t like I didn’t get attention from men. I just found most of them boring or unattractive. And on the rare occasion they were the slightest bit interesting or handsome, I couldn’t help worrying they were after me for the money.

And that was a trigger. Jasper Cunningham had killed my father, trying to get to our money. Was he above trying to seduce me to make another go at it? Somehow I doubted it, and I was instantly furious. I stood so quickly I nearly knocked over the chair and the table. “I have to go.”

“What?” He actually had the gall to look shocked.

“Oh, please! Do you think I’m stupid?” I rolled my eyes, cocking my hands on my hips. “I’m not going to sit here and let you work your way into my pants, just so you can get the money out of me that you failed to steal from my father!”

He was on his feet even faster, those blue eyes glazed like icebergs. “Are you serious? Is that what you think of me?”

“Am I wrong?” I countered, my rage fueling spiteful words. “You know, I was curious, but not anymore. I have my answer. I thought maybe you’d changed, that going to prison had taught you a lesson. But you’re the same piece of greedy trash you were ten years ago, Jasper Cunningham!” I turned to leave, stomping harder than I needed to but needing an outlet for my fury. My blood pounded loudly in my ears as I reached for the doorknob.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t hear him coming.

He grabbed my shoulder and whirled me to face him, pinning me against the door, a hand on either side of my head and his large, muscular body blocking me. “You’ve got balls, Mina Cohen. Like, seriously large ones.” His words were clipped, his chest heaving, and it scared me just a little. “Don’t get things twisted, little girl. You pursued me, not the other way around. You’ve been following me, and you came up to my apartment with breakfast. I’d call you a tease, but what you really are is a coward.”

I glared at him. “I am not!” How dare he say something like that to me? A coward wouldn’t step foot in the house of a man with no morals.

“Yeah? Prove it.” I shot daggers at him, daring him to threaten me. I wouldn’t run. “Admit what you’re really curious about.”

“Oh? And what do you propose that is?” I wasn’t going to back down.

He smirked. “You’re so coy. Come on, you’ve spent years thinking about me. I was the untouchable, the bad boy you could never get, the one who didn’t fit into your lifestyle. It’s a teenage girl’s fantasy. And you’ve spent years living the fantasy in your head. Now, you have the chance to get a little taste of it, Mina, and I’m giving you the chance. Do it.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I—” didn’t get another word out. He cut me off, his lips finding mine with an angry, demanding push, and his tongue swept over my teeth. I pushed at his chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall.

And then I tasted him…the coffee and cigarettes and the dark desire. I wasn’t pushing him away anymore; I had my hands on his face, pulling him deeper into the kiss until the length of his body brushed against mine. I had to tilt my head back – he was a good six inches taller than me – and he thrust his fingers into my hair, tilting my head. I thought he might swallow me whole, and I forgot everything. All my hate and anger fizzled into nothing, like a shorted fuse, and I was flooded with need. I wanted to crawl up his body, run my hands over every muscle and all the creases in between.

And just as suddenly as he’d dove for me, he stepped back. He tugged my wrist, and I stepped to the side to keep from toppling over, my legs weak and knees wobbly like some virgin in an old black and white movie. Then, he opened the door, pushed me out, pressed a harsh kiss to my lips, and shut the door.

I stared unseeing at its red surface for several long moments, trying to figure out what had just happened, but it wouldn’t explain itself to me. I couldn’t put the pieces together in order, and eventually, I just turned and stumbled down the stairs. My eyes were unfocused, and I felt like a zombie, albeit a very hot, breathless one, and I somehow ended up back at the parking lot and in my car.

Only when I was behind the wheel did I manage to draw in a deep breath and let it out with a shudder. Jasper Cunningham was a hell of a kisser, and I couldn’t ignore the voice inside me that told me I wanted more. But the reasonable part of me realized it had been a one-time event, and I couldn’t expect to ever hear from him again. He wouldn’t call me for dinner. In fact, he’d probably change his number, now that we’d crossed a forbidden line.

Neither one of us was in any position to be making out in his box of an apartment. Our statuses were at the opposite end of the spectrum, and he was the man I wanted the authorities to lock up and throw away the key. I certainly couldn’t be lusting after a man that would never get out from behind bars. I shouldn’t be lusting after one that had already spent several years there.

And yet, when I closed my eyes, I could smell him. I could touch my swollen lips and feel his there, taste his tongue, and feel the heat radiating off his body. Something was desperately wrong with me, and I had to fix it. I didn’t usually head to the gym this early, but I couldn’t think of another way to distract myself. I dialed my personal trainer with trembling fingers and put the call through the Bluetooth on the Mercedes. Luckily, he was available and told me to come straight in.

I would have to tell him to put me through the paces. I needed to work until I was drenched in sweat and couldn’t breathe, and then I needed to keep going until I couldn’t think about anything but the pain. That was the only way I was going to get Jasper Cunningham out of my system.