Chapter 12

Thursday evening, Hope stood in the foyer of J.T.’s home and stared. She hadn’t expected such a nice place, though she shouldn’t have been surprised. He was an artist, after all.

“Come on in.”

“Have some candy, little girl,” she added in a low voice, but he must have heard because he laughed.

“I promise, I won’t bite. Yet.” He snickered and grabbed her bag. “Don’t worry. I won’t pounce until after we’ve studied for the big test tomorrow.”

She grinned. “It does feel like high school, doesn’t it? Cramming for exams in your least favorite classes?”

“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t study that much.”

“And still got A’s though, didn’t you? I heard Del making fun of you the other night. Suck-up.”

“Hey. Not my fault I’m smart. The only class I deliberately tanked was English. I hated the instructor, but as a horny eighteen-year-old, I felt it was my duty to seduce her.”

“You did not.” She stared, wide-eyed. Then again, looking at J.T., she could believe he had.

“She was twenty-three and had really long legs. She sucked as a teacher but wasn’t too bad in bed. Meh. I was young and stupid back then.”

“Back then?”

He frowned at her. “But I also had a heart, and since rumors went around that we’d slept together, I told her to give me a C minus so it wouldn’t look like we’d been screwing for special favors.”

“That’s a lame cover.”

“Yeah, well, they bought it. Of course, she got busted for sleeping with my buddies who did get A’s in her class. Didn’t help they failed everything else. I was the opposite, so the staff believed me.”

“Wow. Nothing that exciting happened in my school. We had druggies get nailed and one teen pregnancy. That was it. Oh, and the science teacher and PE teacher got busted for having an affair.”

“Nice.” He grinned. Then he crooked a finger. “Hope, come closer. I promise, it’ll all be okay.”

“Stop.” She felt silly for being nervous, but that duffel bag she’d brought signaled a turn she hadn’t wanted to take with him. A sleepover at his house. A prelude to sex with J.T.—the sex she insisted she wasn’t going to have.

“You know, we’re not ever going to do anything you don’t want to,” he said in a serious voice, his expression calm. He stepped closer to her when she remained rooted to the floor and tilted her chin up so he could meet her gaze. “I swear, Hope. You’re never in any danger from me. Remember, you’re in charge of this.”

“I am?”

“Sure. I’m the guy you came to use and abuse. Think of me as a prop.”

“Stop saying ‘use and abuse.’” She shook her head. “Wait. Think of you as what?”

“A prop. You’re selling your mom one whopper of a story tomorrow, and I’m the best thing you’ve got to get her to buy it. I’m a prop.”

“Like a prop dummy?”

He sighed. “I’m pretty sure the word ‘dummy’ didn’t cross my mind.” He brightened. “Think of me as a sex toy.”

“Oh, that’s helping.”

“Yeah. I’m the super-deluxe model. I’m sexy and handsome.” He flexed for her, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Plus, I’m hung like an elephant.”

She did laugh then. “You win. I’m no longer nervous. Now I’m just embarrassed for you. Let’s eat before I remember how annoying you are.”

His smug grin only made it that much more difficult not to fall for him. She was halfway there already. What kind of guy agreed to help a girl out of a mess like Hope’s with no expectation of repayment? No favor for a favor? Having sex was up to her. She knew he wanted it, but he would never force her.

Charm and fun were J.T.’s style. He made her feel comfortable and safe. A man with his size and looks could pretty much take what he wanted. But she doubted that would ever occur to J.T. A gentleman to his bones, he’d never do anything without his partner’s consent. Integrity and honor were at his core.

Aside from the men in her family, J.T. Webster was the nicest man she’d ever met.

He looked wary. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I just realized something.” She put her arm through the crook of his and let him lead her through the living area into his closed-off kitchen. “You’re a nice man.”

He pulled away from her, his expression horrified. “Nice?”

“Yes. That’s a compliment.”

“Nice is not a compliment. Nice is awful. Boring. Asexual.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Hey, great kitchen.”

“Nice is for Boy Scouts. I was never a Boy Scout. I’m badass. I scare people. Nice?” He set two plates down on the counter and continued to rant about better adjectives to describe himself.

While he wound down, she took a look around the townhome. The first floor was narrow but deep. She’d walked through the living area into an open kitchen. Behind them was a small dining area. He had an upstairs as well, and they’d passed the stairs to get to the kitchen. A powder room sat off the back of the kitchen, and stacked washer and dryer units had been curtained off inside it.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” he asked as he spooned chicken Caesar salad onto their plates. He’d also set out a few slices of stromboli from her favorite Italian place and glasses of water. It felt odd to know he remembered things she’d told him a while ago.

“Yes. My mistake. You’re a complete asshole. I can’t believe I’m spending time with such a narcissistic jerkwad.”

“Okay, then.” He nodded. “Good.”

She laughed. “I like your house. It’s clean and tidy, and your furniture is actually nice.”

“When I first moved in, I had crappier stuff. But I’ve since traded a good bit for nicer pieces. Believe it or not, Tull is considered a premier tattoo studio in Seattle.”

“I know.” She smiled. “You’re an artist, J.T. I never thought otherwise.”

She’d discomfited him, and the surprisingly shy smile of pleasure on his face captivated her. Made him more human, less sexual deity needing worship.

“Now, let’s study for the test.”

An hour later, he’d committed her favorites to memory, and she’d pretended to relearn his. Sadly, she remembered everything she’d ever heard about the man. It was as if she had a J.T. section in her brain constantly greedy for information.

“Something else you should know,” he said as he grabbed the cherry pie she’d brought with her, because she’d once overhead Del mention it was his favorite. He placed a big slice on her plate. “I’m clean. Like, no STDs, and I always use condoms.”

She’d been eager to sample the pie until he said that. Her appetite fled, nerves replacing a need for sweets.

“What about you?” He didn’t seem to have the same problem, put a large slice of pie on his plate, and dug in.

“Me?” Her high pitch embarrassed her. So she coughed to clear her throat and ignored the mirth in his gaze. “Um, I’m clean. Or at least I was when I had my last exam, which was right after Greg. But then, I haven’t been with anyone since him except you.” She frowned. “So if I have any issues, it’s your fault.”

“Oh, honey, you have a ton of issues, but you can’t lay them at my door.” He ate more pie. “Damn, this is good.”

“For your information, Mr. Webster, I am a responsible, mature adult. I do have a few things I’m working out concerning my mother,” she said primly, aware he liked to stir her up for some reason and unable to resist the bait. Especially with him laughing at her. “But one thing I am not is sexually irresponsible. I don’t jump into bed with any dick.” She glared at him to let him know that word applied to him, which he found hilarious.

“I hope you snort out a cherry,” she said darkly. To which he laughed even harder. As usual, his laughter tugged at her to join in. “My point is that I don’t sleep around. And I’ve always used protection. Well, in a new relationship. Only when I’ve been with someone for a long time do I rely on something other than condoms, and that’s to prevent pregnancy.”

He pushed away his clean plate and leaned closer to her. “You on birth control?”

“Yes.” So they were really having this conversation. She took a deep breath and let it out, the charge in the atmosphere impossible to ignore.

“I’ve been with a lot of women. I won’t lie. I also told you I don’t cheat, and I don’t. But because my relationships—the real ones, not like our fake one—don’t last, I always wear a condom. Plus I’m not always a trusting guy, leaving birth control to the ladies.”

“Good to know.” She ignored the smirk he’d shot her when he said “not like our fake one.”

“Right. Well, I’m letting you know I do one woman at a time.”

“You do them?”

He waved away her pique. “Do as in relationships, Ms. Women’s Libber. I respect women. Hell, I love women. By all accounts, my mom was an angel. My aunt is crazy with men but a real keeper with kids. And I love my sister and cousin. Period.” His grin turned conceited. “I’m just letting you know how lucky you’ll be when I’m giving you more orgasms…tonight.”

She blew out a breath. “So you feel confident about tomorrow?”

“Yep. You wanting a tattoo, that’s to mess with your mom? You never really wanted one?”

The change in subject threw her for a moment, and she had to think about what he’d said. “No. That part is true. I’ve always wanted a tattoo. Something special, something that’s uniquely me. I’ve never gotten one because it’s a big step, and I don’t have an idea yet of what I’d be okay wearing for the rest of my life.”

He had his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands, and studied her. “Nothing has to be forever. There’s laser removal and modifications we can make for those who regret their decisions. But yeah, I feel you. I was the same way before I got mine.”

“No one in my family has one, and my dad was Navy. My brothers were Marines.”

“Huh.”

“It would be cool if I was the first to get one. And of course, my mother hates the thought, so win-win.”

He laughed. “You’re too funny.”

“Too immature, you mean.” She sighed and slumped in her seat. “I know it. This whole thing with my mom is stupid. Really, really juvenile. But J.T., she’s been on my case my whole life. I can never live up to Linda Donnigan’s standards, no matter what I do.”

* * *

The sad face she made turned their whole sexy vibe into something else. Not only did he want to make love to Hope, but now he started thinking of what he’d tattoo on that creamy skin if he had the chance. And it would have to be perfect. As much as he’d love to write Property of J.T. Webster on her hands, chest, and forehead, he had a feeling she’d reject the idea.

Hearing her being so down on herself didn’t help either. Because when she hurt, he hurt. And that connection felt an awful lot like what his father had described having with J.T.’s mom.

Before he could have a major freak-out about his rampant emotions, the glitter in Hope’s gaze stopped all panic. He needed to make her feel better first. He’d worry about himself later.

“Come here.” He pushed his seat back and patted his thigh, as surprised as she was when she accepted and sat on his lap. She sat sideways, her legs dangling over his, her arms around his neck, and her head on his shoulder, her hand over his heart.

He wondered if she could hear the organ pounding. Holding her like this, sensing how right she felt in his arms, broke down another section of the wall he’d been trying to hold firm against her.

“You’re fine. Your mom’s the wacko.”

She laughed against his chest. “She is, but so am I. I… J.T., don’t tell anyone I said this.”

“Never.” He squeezed her tight.

“But I think I’m a lot like her. Sometimes it’s like I have to be right, no matter what.”

Not the news flash she thought it was.

“So what? We’re all like our parents. I’m a lot like Liam. Stubborn, weird about dating. A hard worker.”

“But those are good traits. Well, except the weirdness and dating part.”

“Your mom has good traits too, right?”

“Well, yes. But I don’t share those.”

“What are they?” He kissed the top of her head and offered comfort, safety, assurance. But when he smelled the floral scent of her shampoo, his body stiffened—all over.

Hope didn’t seem to notice. “Mom is tenacious, I guess. She’s smart and funny, and driven. But that’s not always a good thing.”

“It is in this context. You’re smart and funny and driven. You don’t take anyone’s handouts. Hell, you didn’t even date the rich dude she tried to set you up with. I bet you’ve had a lot of guys want to buy you.”

“What?”

“You know, like wine and dine you, set you up as their honey where you could just look pretty while they provided for you.”

“Well, yeah. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I used to get hit on a lot by older guys.”

“Used to?”

She blushed. “Still do sometimes. And yeah, they’re always trying to buy me stuff.”

“You aren’t someone who can be bought. That’s a good thing.” He kissed her head again and did his best to think pure thoughts. Be there for her, dickhead. Don’t push her for sex now. She’s talking. Listen.

“See? You’re so nice, J.T. You have a big heart.”

That’s not all that’s big…and getting bigger. “Stop squirming,” he ordered, his voice husky. “I’m totally fine with trying to teach your mom a lesson. I’m having fun with you, so quit worrying.”

She finally leaned back, which took pressure off his erection. He saw her big, brown eyes, full of concern. “It’s not her I’m worried about. I don’t want you to think badly of me for this. It was fun at first, but I’m better than this.”

“Well, fuck. I’m not.” He kissed her, and the tension leached out of her as she kissed him back, melting in his arms. He shifted her so that she sat over him, pressed groin to groin, her legs spread on either side of his. Somehow, he’d tangled his hands in her thick hair, and the feel of the long, silky strands added to the sensual haze fogging all his good intentions.

“Damn. Sorry, baby.”

“I’m not.” She dragged her mouth over his cheek, down to his neck, and bit him.

His blood pressure shot up a thousand points.

“This fake relationship is really working for me,” she whispered and continued to kiss him up and down his neck. “You taste salty. Yummy.” She moaned against his throat, and he found himself pressing them closer, one hand on her lower back, the other on her thigh, where he could manage the motion of her hips.

“Hope, I, uh…” He had no idea what to say. At some point his cock had taken over, leading him astray.

“I was scared to have sex with you, not because I’m afraid of you. Because I’m scared I’ll like it too much and get clingy. But since this is just us getting to know each other and having fun, not dating or anything, I’m okay with it.”

He couldn’t make much sense of that. He had a feeling that, like him, she was rationalizing the need to fuck like rabbits, even while knowing it probably wasn’t a good idea.

He didn’t do committed relationships. She had being a wife and having two-point-five kids in her DNA. He ran a tattoo shop and had experienced jail firsthand. She’d gone to college, worked in finance, and her most rebellious phase seemed to consist of bringing him home to her mom and dad. His had been to steal a car and ram it through the wall of a guy giving his dad a hard time, back when Webster’s had been teetering on bankruptcy and the banker assigned to his father’s loan had tried to shake Liam down.

Fortunately, J.T. hadn’t gotten caught that time. But the booze, the girls, and the occasional thievery could have gone sideways, had his father not stepped into his ass back in the day.

Hope had gotten good grades and acceptance to college as a result of her teen years.

He shook his head, trying to tell himself to end this before it began.

Then he realized it was okay, because none of this was real. And if he didn’t do something soon, his dick might fall off from an overabundance of desire needing an outlet.

* * *

Hope felt him lift her, like the last time. For once, she liked the fact she was small enough to fit easily in J.T.’s arms. Though she still wondered if that impressive part between his legs would fit inside her. She didn’t think she’d ever been with a guy that big before.

“I’m having a tough time thinking about anything other than getting inside you,” he confessed, his voice low. Arousing. He took her up the stairs as if she weighed nothing. They passed a bedroom and a bathroom and entered his room.

A big bed frame, matching nightstand, and closet were all she made out before he lowered her onto a king-size bed. It took up most of the room, but as large as J.T. was, he’d need the space.

He didn’t give her time to undress and instead took her clothes off for her. “Let me,” he insisted.

Once she was naked, he just looked at her. “Fucking gorgeous. I have to draw you at some point, okay?”

She blinked and nodded, seeing the artist as well as the man.

Then the moment passed as he stripped naked. He froze, staring at her. “I’m going to slow down, because if I get inside you now, I’m going to ride you and come in two seconds. And I want tonight to last.”

She stared at his cock, amazed at his size.

The thing bobbed when he walked to her, and he ordered, “Touch me.”

Where she found the patience to tease him, she didn’t know. “But won’t it explode if I do? Or should I kiss it all better? You look a little…flushed.”

He groaned. “You put your mouth on me, and I’ll come. Do me a favor and grab some condoms out of my top drawer.” He nodded to his nightstand.

She turned over and scooted toward it, but as she grabbed a few packets, she felt his hands on her ass.

“Give them to me. I’m going to calm down and give you a back massage. How’s that?”

She handed the packets to him. “Are you sure you took an anatomy class, ever? Because your hands are not on my back.”

He was kneading her glutes, and she moaned at how good it felt.

J.T. chuckled. “Such a smart-ass. Don’t worry. I’m just slowing us down a bit.”

“Whatever you want,” she said and closed her eyes, her head tilted to the side. “Because that feels amazing. I still want to have sex, but now I’m thinking I want more of a back or butt rub first. Mmm.”

He worked her glutes, her hamstrings, and back up to her lower back, rubbing out tension she hadn’t realized was there. Then he slowly lowered himself over her, and they touched, skin to skin.

She hissed at the contact, feeling overpowered—and loving it.

“God, don’t move.” He groaned. J.T. leaned up on his hands and kissed her shoulders, her back. Then he kissed her cheek before whispering, “I’m wearing the condom. I want to fuck you so hard. Over and over.”

He rocked against her as he said it, and her body went up in flames, anticipating when he’d turn her over.

“This first time will be quick, baby. I’m sorry about that.” He eased up and pulled her into a kneeling position, on her hands and knees. He nudged her legs wider. “Our first time should be face-to-face. With me eating that golden pussy, licking you up, teething that clit. But I can’t wait.” He ran a hand down her flank and curled it around her thigh. His fingers slid through the dew gathered between her legs, her body slick and ready to receive him.

A thick finger eased into her, and she arched up.

“Easy.” He was breathing hard, sliding that finger in and out, but so slowly. “Oh fuck. You’re ready, aren’t you, baby? Ready for a fast fuck.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “I really want you.”

“Damn. I wanted to wait, but I can’t.” He withdrew his finger, gliding over her sensitive clit. “Oh, you’re hard, aren’t you?” He gave a hoarse laugh. “But not as hard as me.”

Then he was sliding inside her again—with something thicker and longer than his finger. He moved slowly, so big, and so incredibly filling. She was impatient to feel all of him.

She tried to shift under him, but he held her fast, continuing to penetrate with a torturously slow progression.

Until he was balls-deep and could go no farther.

“Oh fuck. Fuck. Don’t move.” He lifted up, and the motion pushed him deeper still. “I have to… I can’t stop from…”

“J.T., fuck me already,” she ordered.

When he pulled out and slammed back inside her, she lost all control.

The ecstasy of his taking couldn’t be denied. She felt so close to him as her body clamped down, letting him get two more thrusts before she pulled him with her. He yelled as he climaxed, filling the condom and clutching her hips hard enough to leave bruises.

The tiny pulses as he jerked inside her set her off again, and for the first time in her life, she thought she experienced multiple orgasms. She couldn’t stop coming.

When she could finally breathe again, J.T. slumped over her, still joined, kissing her wherever he could reach.

“Oh, baby. So damn good.” He released a tremulous breath. “Fuck. That was out of this world.” When he withdrew, she felt bereft. God, she wanted to cry. It had been a crazy surge of powerful emotion, a cathartic experience, even. As in, spiritual.

I’m losing it from great sex. So sad. She trembled on her hands and knees.

“Be right back.” J.T. left the bed, and she collapsed face-first into it.

By the time he returned, she’d managed to roll herself over and stared at his ceiling. One of the bulbs had burned out in his overhead light. “You should replace that.” She pointed.

“I’ll get right on it.” He leaped over her onto the bed, then rolled onto his side and leaned up on his elbow. “You okay?”

“Hold on. I’m trying to get the last brain cell I own working again.”

He smiled, his gaze tender. “Me too.” He stroked down her cheek, her throat, to her breasts and lingered, cupping her, petting her, then lightly pinching her nipples and sending streaks of fire to her core. She gasped, and his grin widened. “Sensitive there, eh? Me too.” He leaned down to take her nipple between his lips and sucked.

“Oh.” She clenched his head to her, then realized she was the one keeping him there.

He pulled back to watch her as he continued his sensual exploration down her body. He left no part of her front untouched, even caressing her toes.

When he returned to her face, he kissed her. “Hope, I just…” He sighed, leaned his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes.

“I know. Me too.”

Neither spoke again for a while, but they didn’t have to. Both knew something unexpected had happened. Not talking about it seemed the safest thing to do. They lay, him caressing her, her accepting his petting, for a while.

Before any awkwardness settled between them, J.T. nudged her with a returning erection.

“Um, I hate to ruin the mood, but I’m ready for round two.”

“What took you so long?”

He laughed, and the emotional intensity of the moment gave way to joyous laughter once more.