Chapter 8
Holy shit. Touching and kissing with Carla was more intense than any sexual encounter Jonah could remember. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she kind of hated him that did it for him or what.
The X factor that had him reeling from touching her kept him close to her. She was probably wanting to move soon. Right about now, she would decide that she was done with him.
She surprised him by wrapping her arms around his head and hugging him. “That was amazing.”
“It was.”
She giggled, and the sound filled him with lust and warmth in his chest. “It was amazing for you? I nearly crushed your thick head.”
That had him laughing. He stood up, grabbing the towel, and wrapping it around her. He examined her face for any hint of regret. He wouldn’t be able to stand it if she regretted what they’d just done.
He wiped off his mouth and beard with the back of his hand.
Her green eyes were clear, and the light danced off her face in a way that had him wanting to grab his camera.
Instead, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She stiffened in shock at first, and so he stilled. He hoped she didn’t find kissing him after where his mouth had been offensive. She didn’t pull away; she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, losing the towel in the process.
Her desire for him knocked him off center, and he realized why he’d been so hostile to her the day they’d met. She terrified him. If she wanted, she could have him at her beck and call, no begging required.
And that thought didn’t make him pull away. It made him savor her taste, the feel of all her naked flesh pressed against his torso, the fluttering and grabbing of her delicate but strong hands as she touched him everywhere.
His erection pressed against the fly of his jeans, demanding relief. But, where he couldn’t deny Carla her pleasure, he was determined to deny himself. If he fucked her, this became more than a way to assuage boredom, they would be involved. She might get emotional about him and inevitably be disappointed in him when he couldn’t give her everything she needed.
Because he would always leave. That’s the way he’d set up his life, and that suited him. He wasn’t about to quit traveling and buy a condo in Miami so he could set up house with a woman who was used to having everything. He simply didn’t have enough to offer her.
So he pulled away. “You should get some clothes on.”
She tilted her head to the side and she looked at his cock, which had apparently decided to punch at his belt until he ached even more to be inside her. “But what about—”
“We have all night.” If he made it sound like he was going to fuck her eventually, maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal when it didn’t happen. They could do other stuff. He could make sure she came a bunch more times. “We should get hot showers while that’s still an option.”
She pulled the towel back over her shoulders and nodded. “I’ll put some food together. We should eat some of the stuff that will go bad if the power goes out.”
She was running upstairs with her ass hanging out of the towel when he remembered that he’d meant to spank her.
* * * *
Was there such a thing as placating someone with cunnilingus? Carla couldn’t get that question and a million others about what had happened in the kitchen out of her head while she showered.
Her body still thrummed with what he had done to her, and she was thinking about how much more she wanted. For starters, she wanted to see what he was hiding in his pants. She’d felt enough to know that his worries about being too big were not completely ridiculous. She just didn’t care. Just like some people couldn’t stop themselves from climbing Mount Everest, nothing was going to stop her from returning Jonah’s little favor.
Her skin was still reddened from his beard and her lips still felt swollen from his kisses. She’d probably looked sex-crazed downstairs, and at this point, she was beyond caring.
She’d convince him to fuck her tonight no matter what the cost—begging, cajoling, seducing, sitting in his lap and grinding until he lost all control—she’d pay it. She wasn’t proud anymore.
The way he’d backed off from her when she’d suggested they fuck made her think that he didn’t really want her. Maybe it had been pity cunnilingus? Placating pity cunnilingus.
She didn’t know if that was more or less pathetic than being left on the altar. At least no one back home would find out that she wasn’t even capable of closing the deal on a one-night stand anymore. If she failed in her mission, she wouldn’t even tell her sister.
No, her blissfully happy, engaged sister would never let her hear the end of it. In a month, Alana was marrying her one and only one-night stand. Standing on the altar next to her older sister was going to gut her, but she had to do it. That had been part of what coming down here was about. Her father had thought—and she’d eventually agreed—that she needed to get away from her familiar surroundings and make herself useful if she was going to get past the issues that had cropped up when Geoff dumped her.
After a day of getting people organized and helping people prepare for the storm, she’d felt invigorated. And after getting turned out on the kitchen counter, she was more determined than ever to get her life back.
Part of her wanted to explain to Jonah why she needed him, just for tonight, just until the storm passed. But would he really want to know that she was using him to rebound from a relationship that hadn’t been all that great to begin with?
Sparring with Jonah, as annoying as it was when he called her “princess,” was more exciting than most of the conversations that she and Geoff had had in their entire relationship. She’d always felt as though she was managing him, and it had been exhausting.
She was starting to think she hadn’t even liked Geoff all that much. The longer they were together, the less she was of herself. He didn’t like going to parties, so she’d stopped planning them. He didn’t like fancy restaurants—he said they were too expensive—so she’d learned to cook. He didn’t want to fork out for a cleaning service, even though she’d offered to pay for it, so she’d spent afternoon upon afternoon scrubbing floors and polishing countertops.
And he hadn’t even thanked her. He’d never brought her flowers. He was just there, until he wasn’t.
Before she knew it, she’d become depressed. She’d lost touch with friends and caused problems with her family. She’d been so jealous when her sister found Cole and started having hot sex, she’d told their brother—Cole’s best friend. The drama had almost broken Cole and Alana up.
She’d also made the wrong first impression with Javi’s now-fiancée, Maya. Maya was the coolest girl in the world, and Carla had acted like a total snob when she’d showed up.
Her family had forgiven her, but they always did. They didn’t hold her accountable for shitty behavior because they expected it from her. And that hurt. She was not the woman that she wanted to be, and she needed to take steps toward changing that. She needed to reconnect with her friends and earn her family’s respect.
The water had turned cold while she stood in the shower, moping about being a fuckup. She certainly wouldn’t be earning Jonah’s respect when he got into a cold shower. Once she got downstairs, she’d have to make him a dope dinner.
And maybe give him another way to warm up.
* * * *
Jonah knocked on the bathroom door when Carla had been in the shower for twenty minutes. A lot of shit had gone down today, and maybe she’d passed out. He hadn’t seen her eat anything, and she’d had a beer. One beer on an empty stomach in someone that small could be trouble.
Fuck. What if she hadn’t wanted to do what they’d done in the kitchen, and she was hiding from him? Knocking on the door wasn’t going to make her any less afraid of him.
He was about to turn away when the shower turned off. So, she was still conscious. He knocked again before he could stop himself. “Are you okay?”
He expected her to shout, “Go away! You’re a jerk.” Instead, she opened the door, and all the blood in his brain that had been spinning tales about how he was the worst guy and how she probably couldn’t stand him went to his dick. Her hair was all pushed back off her shoulders, and her skin looked so soft he wanted to sink into it for hours.
“I’m fine.” She cocked her head, and a smile spread slowly across her achingly gorgeous face. “Were you worried about me? I can assure you that I’ve been showering by myself without incident since I was five or six.”
“You had a beer—” He knew he sounded silly, but he didn’t want there to be any question that she’d consented to what happened in the kitchen.
“You think I let you eat me out because I was drunk?” Her head fell forward, and her shoulders shook; he hoped she might drop the towel because he was a total pervert. “I had a panic attack. I’m not an invalid or a twelve-year-old girl, even though I look like one in the chestal area.”
Her boobs were perfect, but this wasn’t the time to tell her that. “I just hadn’t seen you eat today.”
“I totally snacked. You must not have been watching me carefully enough.” He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her. He wasn’t going to tell her that either because he was aware it made him sound like a stalker.
“Oh.”
“And I’m Irish and Cuban. If I can’t drink one beer without jumping on any dick that happens to float by, my family would renounce me.”
“I’m just a floating appendage?”
“No. I happen to like the package this,” she pointed at his groin, “comes attached to.”
“You just like the package?”
“You’re fishing for compliments, so I’m not going to answer that.” To his grave disappointment, she tightened the towel around her instead of dropping it and showing her appreciation for his package. “I am, however, going to get dressed.”
Pity. Jonah clenched his fists at his sides. He wanted to fuck sassy Carla so badly that his jaw started to ache from restraining all the filthy thoughts he had about her in his mouth. And, when she deliberately squeezed his cock through his jeans as she moved past him in the doorway, his control reached its outer limit.
He was about to snap. The need to ride her sweet little body, make it sheen with sweat the same way she’d glowed from the moisture of the shower, overwhelmed him. He got undressed and into the stall that was about two sizes too small for him. Even the lukewarm spray didn’t dull his need. His cock was so full it hurt. If he tried to walk right now, he’d probably be bowlegged out of courtesy to it.
But he didn’t stroke it. He wanted to save that for Carla. While he was imagining how it would go down, he remembered a key fact—he hadn’t brought condoms down to the island. There was no way he would fuck her without one; he didn’t do that. There was plenty of other stuff they could do, but sinking into her tight wetness was the only thing he wanted. It dominated his thoughts until he rested his head against the shower wall and squeezed the tip of his cock in a vain attempt to ease his anguish.