CHAPTER FIFTEEN

STEELE

“I don’t know.” Jaylyn taps her foot while watching Joel apply the fire gel over my clothes. Fuck, and to think I had her naked, beautiful body in my hands last night. “I think this scene needs to be cut from the film. It adds nothing to the storyline, and it’s risky.”

“Oh, don’t go soft on me now, boss.” I pull my gloves on, give her a wink, and pick up my helmet. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead. Damn, it’s hot enough already in all these layers. Not to mention, it’s sunny as shit out. Why’d they pick today to do the damn explosion scene? I swipe the back of my gloved hand across my forehead. “I know what I’m doing. I’m not some rookie fresh out of some twenty-hour course on how to become a stunt man.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him do it before,” Joel says as he lathers more gel on my sleeve. “He’s been playing with fire for years. Check out YouTube. There’s a video of him when he was younger skateboarding with the board on fire. It’s legit.” Joel laughs, failing any reassurance with his usual looney toon hackle. But hell. There’s no one else, other than his punk ass that I’d want aiming an extinguisher at me while I’m lit in flames. He’s the fire whisperer. “At least, he’s dressed for this scene. The one we did for Flashover was a naked burn. Dude, remember that?” He turns from me to Jay. “You should’ve seen him walking through the explosion with his skin on fire, chest, arms, back. It was wicked sick.”

Jay’s unconvinced eyes roll over to me. “Can we, at least, discuss it?”

“Nuh-uh.” I raise a hand, feeling the weight of clothing needed for the full body burn.

“But⸻”

“No.” I shake my head. “You already signed off on it, Jay. I’m doing the stunt.” Her face conforms into her “ready to do battle” look. I pull the helmet on, shutting her out, and smile behind the mask, aware this win is mine. Joel finishes connecting the oxygen to my helmet, and I take a few meditating breaths as I go over the stunt a few more times in my head.

I got it. It’s mine … and I own it for a few scorching minutes until Joel and the other three guys extinguish the flames. Hot as hell, I pull my helmet off, gasp for fresh air, and make a loop around the set. She’s gone. Wonder if she left before, during, or after the stunt. Fuck. I hope she doesn’t plan to stunt-block me now that we’re finally starting to get it on. Well, closer to having sex.

Last night, she had me hot, hotter than the fire just did. You’d never know by the way she’s been acting at work today. After the orgasm I delivered to her, I came in this morning kind of expecting to see something, maybe a few stranded stars in her eyes or a hitch in her breathy voice, but I got nothing. Then again, I did make her cry. I still feel bad about that. Perhaps, that’s why she’s so distant and how she can treat me like everyone else. Thinking maybe I should’ve listened to Stone and not gotten involved here. I’m not equipped for this shit. I do good with one-night stands or the man-haters. Ya know, the ones who have been hurt so bad by another dude, now they got no problem using you. I like to be used and don’t mind it one bit. I like when there are no expectations. I don’t think Jay wants anything from me; she seems to be sticking with the plan that this is about sex, and that’s it. Helping her get over the hump and learning to let another man get between her legs. That’s the agenda here and my personal challenge. Nothing else. That’s it.

Shit! Why can’t I stick to the fucking plan, then? Every time I think about her leaving in a week—or two, if I’m lucky—my stomach does this out-of-practice flip. It reminds me that somewhere inside, I don’t want her to go back to Chicago. But how would that work? How could she stay here? She doesn’t live here. Her apartment and her job are in Chicago.

It takes me about twenty times the amount of time to clean up as it did to perform the stunt. Showered and shaved, I head in search of Jay, finding her in her makeshift office. I enter the room and kick the door closed behind me, ready to do some mending. I need her body back to wanting me again like last night.

She looks up from the laptop. Her large blue eyes swoop down my body, pausing here and there for a thorough inspection.

“You didn’t stay to watch the stunt?”

“I caught it on replay. Nice job.” She stands up, rounds the desk, and stops in front of me.

“Thanks.” My eyes drop to her mouth. Our bodies vacuum the heat from the room, sucking it all around us. “You left early this morning?”

“Yes.” She places her palm on my chest. My heart beats hard like it’s trying to tap her fingers from the inside out. My eyes remain fixed on her mouth. “I had to go back to my hotel to shower.” Her hand descends my heated body. Her lips sway toward me, taunting me.

Time to stop the tease.

I catch her mouth with mine. Our tongues slide past each other as our lips melt into one. When we kiss, it’s like I didn’t know what I was doing until my mouth met hers. It’s not the kind of kiss you create with just anyone. It feels uncalculated, uncontrolled, yet exclusive.

Her hand reaches into my pants. She wraps her warm fingers around me. “Fuck.” I gasp into her mouth. “Wasn’t expecting this when I came in here.”

“No?” She bites my bottom lip. Damn, that shit’s hot. “What were you expecting?” Her hand slips down farther, cupping my firm balls. My skin tightens around my boner as the rest of my flesh springs to life with goose bumps. She presses me back against the wall.

“Well, for starters, I thought I’d be handing out some discipline for the way you acted out there about my stunt.”

“Ah, so you were thinking about spanking me again?” She palms my cock and gives it a nice long stroke.

Damn! I didn’t think my dick could get any harder, but hell, it just did, and that shit hurts, the “I need release, motherfucker” kind of hurt.

“Not until now, but just so we’re clear, that little slap I gave you last night? That’d be nothing compared to what I’d do if you were a bad girl.”

“And what”—she cups my balls and squeezes—“consists of me”—she squeezes a little harder—“being a bad girl?”

I’m gonna come. Right here, in her office, in her hand, I’m going to blow my load. Teeth clenched tight, I grip her neck and pull her to me. “Mercy,” I whisper against her mouth.

“What?” Her eyes pop open.

“Yeah, that’s right, missy.” I grab her wrist and pull her hand from my pants. “That word works both ways, and while this might be fun, I’m not going to fuck you on some old metal desk.”

Her brow hitches. “Too daring, Mr. Kane?”

“No.” I chuckle. “Just not gonna take you for the first time on that thing.” I nod at the shitty metal desk.

“Oh … take me?” She smiles with a playful giggle.

“Yes. Take you, I will, Miss Rigsby.” I slip my hand into my pants for a readjust. “The when and where, well, now that’s up to you.” I tap her under the chin with the very fingers I just used to readjust my dick.

“Oh, I get it. Just not now and not on that?” She thumbs the desk, her eyes still stationed between my legs.

“Exactly.” I smile, cock pressing against my pants and begging for her hand back. Damn, I want her.

“Hmm …” She looks up. “You’re not really leaving it up to me then, are you?” She places her palm again on my chest as if she owns it, owns me, and part of me is really digging it. The part, no doubt, that’s going to get my heart into trouble.

“Not true. I could’ve taken you a long time ago, but I’ve been waiting.” We’ve been waiting—me and my cock.

“Foooorrrr?” Her head shifts slightly to the left with emphasis on the word as her free hand slides softly across my chest.

“For you to stop thinking about him whenever I touch you.”

Her hand snaps back. “I don’t think about … I couldn’t imagine …” She steps back from me, and I release her wrist. “You’re not like him. You’re different.”

“Different?” I lean against the wall and cross my arms over my chest. “Now you have my interest piqued. How am I different?”

“I don’t know. He was familiar.” She hesitates, and I wait, watching her rub her arm. Her eyes meet my patient ones. I can’t help it. I know that I’m being a dick here, wanting to know how I compare to a dead guy, but I need to know.

She throws a hand in the air. “Let me see, how can I explain it.” She paces the room for a few seconds, allowing my cock to settle nicely back into the crotch of my pants. “He was like slippers, and you’re like high heels. He was comfortable and normal where you’re fresh and risky. So, when you touch me, I can assure you it is only you that I feel.”

“I wasn’t talking about that. I’m not questioning the way I make you feel. I’m talking about the guilt.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “I’m sorry … it’s just … I … ah,” she says, unable to prompt an excuse.

“Hey, it’s okay. You loved him. I know you’re not trying to find love here, but you do need somethin’ from me, Jay. And I’m more than willing to give it. It’s not that I won’t benefit from our little arrangement, but we both have to be ready. We know that I’m ready; the question remains, are you?”

“I think I just proved that I am.” She smiles.

“Okay.” I nod, inspecting her steadfast expression. “All right, then come to my place tonight, say around nine, and you can show me on my nice soft bed just how ready you are.”

“Fine!” She lifts her chin. “See you then …”