Chapter Six
Jake watched Jessie as she rode him. The low light of the lamp on her nightstand threw her body into stark relief against the shadows. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, each topped with a dusky rose nipple. Unable to help himself, he leaned up and captured one in his mouth. With her pussy squeezing his cock and her little sounds slipping from between her lips, he was holding on by a thread.
There was no counting the nights he’d imagined having her again—remembered all the times they’d been together in the past.
This was different.
She was different.
He switched to the other breast, encouraging her to keep moving with his hands on her hips. “You feel good, love.”
A breathless laugh and then her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him back down. “I don’t remember you talking this much when we were together before.”
“A lot’s changed since then.” He’d hardly been a saint in the last ten years, and his tastes had refined as a result. It should have meant that he’d moved beyond Jessica Jackson, but he was beginning to realize that there was no moving past Jessie.
He’d have to deal with that truth at some point. Not yet, though. Not tonight.
Jake reached between them and positioned his thumb over her clit so that she rubbed against it with every stroke. Her dark eyes went wide. “Jake, I can’t.”
“You can. Let all the shit go, Jessie. None of it matters right here, right now.”
For a second, he thought she might argue with him, but then the last of the tension melted from her body. She sobbed out a breath in what might have been relief, and then she moved.
Where, before, her strokes had been something she was obviously concentrating on, now they were mindless. The most natural thing in the world. Her body knew his, the same way his knew hers. Her arms drifted over her head to twine together, the move bowing her back and giving him the view of a lifetime. Her hips rolled, taking her pleasure without worrying about his. Good. Jake kept his thumb over her clit, working to hold himself still. She crested with his name on her lips, her body going tight, her pussy milking him.
He lost it.
He rolled them again, using the move to drive deeper into her. A small voice in the back of his mind warned him to slow down, but there was no room for reason here. There was just Jake and Jessica and the pleasure demanding he lose himself inside her. He took her mouth as pressure built at the bottom of his spine. It drew his balls up, turning him into a mindless animal.
Through it all, one word echoed again and again and again.
Mine.
He came with a curse. Even then, he couldn’t move out of her. Leave this perfect moment? Not fucking likely. Jake buried his face in the curve of her neck. “A minute.”
“After that, you can have two.”
He laughed hoarsely. As his heartbeat worked its way back to something resembling normal, Jake had to face a few facts. Namely, getting inside Jessie again hadn’t scratched his itch in the least. He hadn’t really thought it would, but he was well-versed in this particular brand of denial. This wasn’t about putting her in her place after what she did ten years ago. It wasn’t about putting that spark back in her eyes, either.
He’d done this because he couldn’t be in the same state—let alone the same house—as Jessie without losing his damn mind. Even now, his cock was hardening for round two. It wouldn’t take the edge off any more than the first time had.
I am in so much fucking trouble.
Jake slid out of her and off the bed. He took the condom off and held it carefully while he yanked on his shorts. “I’ll be right back.”
“Jake?”
He ignored the question within a question. There wasn’t an easy answer. Hell, he didn’t have any kind of answer. Outstanding sex or not, he and Jessie didn’t fit anymore. They had too much history between them, and their futures weren’t anywhere close to being on the same track. She lived in LA. She had a career. Friends. A life that didn’t include him.
He had the same in Dallas.
He made it to the bathroom without running into anyone and closed and locked the door behind him. After disposing the condom, he stared at himself in the mirror. What the fuck are you doing? The man reflected back didn’t know any more. Right now, Jessie was in that room, naked and smelling of sex. If he went in there and kissed her before she could ask the question he’d seen lingering in her gaze, he could keep them both from facing any hard truths—at least until morning.
But that was too close to a lie.
He walked back to her bedroom, knowing that she’d reached the same conclusion he had the second he opened the door and found her dressed in a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt instead of naked and wanting. A slow roiling anger rose, totally and completely irrational. “What are you doing?”
She twisted the hem of the shirt with nervous fingers and wouldn’t quite look at him. “That was fun.”
“Fun.”
“Yes, fun. But I think we’re on the same page about where this is going or, rather, where it isn’t.” She finally looked at him, and he went cold at the way her eyes shone. “I can’t sleep all tangled up in you like I used to. Maybe you can, but I just…” She swiped a hand at her face. “God, look at me. I’m a total and complete mess. I’m taking a shower.”
“Wait.” He stepped in front of her even as he asked himself what the hell he was doing. “Jessie, just hold on a damn minute.”
“I can smell you on me.” She jerked back, and he let her go. “Jake, please. It was good. So good. But I didn’t expect it to hurt so much.” Her tone left no illusions—she wasn’t talking about physical pain.
And because she wasn’t, he stepped aside and let her flee the room.
Rationally, he hadn’t done anything wrong. She was the one who made the first move earlier, and she’d been with him every step of the way. Knowing that didn’t make him feel any less like a piece of shit. That feeling was made worse by the realization that he was even more of a dick because she had no idea that he owned Diamond Dates and had orchestrated being here as her date.
I’m batting a thousand when it comes to Jessica Jackson.
It just went to prove some things never changed.
***
Jessica hadn’t thought she’d be able to fall asleep, even after her thirty-minute shower. She’d stayed in there until the hot water went out, because she was a coward and had hoped that Jake would magically be asleep when she got back to the room. At least one thing had gone right, because that wish had been granted. It had still been too weird for words to lay next to him and listen to the steady sound of his breathing.
Add to that the sheets smelled of the sex she’d just scrubbed off her body, and her mind was on a hamster wheel there was no escape from.
Exhaustion eventually had taken hold, because the next thing she knew, she opened her eyes to the sun bathing her room in morning light. She stretched and winced. Between the running and the sex, she was sore in more than a few places.
She stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. The bed had gone cold on the side Jake slept on last night, and though a crazy part of her was disappointed by this, she needed the time alone to figure out what the hell she was going to do.
The reunion was tonight and her entire plan—crappy, though it’d been—was in shambles. She was just going to have to deal with it. As attractive as hopping a plane back to LA was, it wasn’t really an option. She was here. Whatever would happen, would happen.
Jessica closed her eyes and tried to think of at least one good thing that would come from the reunion. There had to be at least one person she was looking forward to seeing.
Jake.
Stop that.
She’d been friendly enough with Kate Williamson in high school—or as friendly as Jessica had gotten at the time, which meant the probability of the woman considering them friends was low. God, I was a right asshole. Most people had to have at least a couple people they looked forward to seeing at their high school reunion.
Jessica had one—and even then, she’d been dreading seeing Jake as much as she’d been looking forward to it.
That was it. One.
A funk threatened to take hold, but she forced herself out of bed. There was nothing left to do but face her demons. It took longer than necessary to get ready, mostly because she was stalling like a coward. Jessica stared at herself in the mirror. You can do this.
She looked nothing like the girl who’d moved out of this house at eighteen—the one who’d terrorized Catfish Creek High School. Back then, she’d been a bottle blonde, because her mama insisted that blondes had a higher percentage of wins in the pageant circuit. Jessica had finally looked that up when she was thirteen. Those “statistics” her mama was so fond of quoting were total crap.
But then, a lot of what her mama drilled into her head growing up was crap.
She hadn’t been allowed to go to school unless she was wearing full war paint. Being a cheerleader was a requirement, not an option. Though she couldn’t blame that last one totally on anyone but herself. She loved being a cheerleader. She’d loved the energy of the crowd, being front and center at the games, the way that people’s eyes followed her when she wore her uniform.
I wonder if I still have it?
She wrapped the towel around herself and peeked into the hallway. All clear. Jessica hurried to her room and closed the door softly behind her. It wouldn’t be long before someone came looking for her, but she wanted to do this, first.
Or maybe I’m still stalling.
Shut up.
She walked to her closet. It was like a blast from the past. There were half a dozen formal dresses, all packaged and sealed on their hangers. Her prom dress was still wrapped up just like she’d left it—the one she’d worn when she was named Prom Queen. It had felt like such an accomplishment at the time. She’d walked onto that stage and stood next to Jake, sure in the fact that the world was at their feet.
And then it’d all gone to hell two months later.
Jessica ran her finger over the plastic covering her prom dress. It was a sequined number in the mermaid tale fashion that had created curves where she hadn’t had any, and the heart-shaped bodice had done wonders for her cleavage. And it was a startling, show-stopping white.
She’d never admitted it aloud to anyone, but she’d thought of that dress as her pre-wedding wedding dress. Her five-year plan had her married to Jake—after college, of course—as he accepted his draft pick into the NFL.
So stupid.
She’d been so focused on the status that she’d stopped seeing the man. Jessica could blame her upbringing or her mama’s voice in her head that only years of therapy had taught her to combat, but the truth was that no one had put a gun to her head and made her leave Jake. That was all her. Forcibly setting aside the past, she pushed the dresses to the side.
There it was.
She shot a look over her shoulder, but no one had snuck into the room while she wasn’t paying attention. Then Jessica grabbed the hangar that her cheer uniform had been draped over and took it out. The red and blue uniform had been such a status symbol when she first got it, but holding it now, she couldn’t ignore the fact that there were so many memories tied up in these two pieces of cloth.
Jake’s first game starting and her first game cheering as sophomore. He’d thrown the winning touchdown with only seconds left on the clock, and she’d about lost her voice from cheering so loud. And then they’d given their virginity to each other in the cab of his truck out at the drive-in theater.
His crazy way of asking her to prom, which had involved his entire football team stealing their rival school’s mascot, and a kiss that still ranked on her top three.
She’d been wearing this uniform when she went to the hospital, so twisted up inside her head with worry for Jake and the soul-deep fear that she’d turn out just like her mama if she stayed in Catfish Creek, and told him that she was destined for greatness and he no longer was.
Jessica dropped the uniform like it’d burned her and shut the closet door. It all came back to that. If she hadn’t been such an idiot then…
Then what?
She didn’t know anything about what Jake’s life looked like now. Did he move to Dallas before or after her started working for Diamond Dates. Did he make enough as a fake date to pay his bills or did he have another job?
She dressed quickly, needing to be around people and get out of her head. Even if those people were Jake and her parents. She’d found the dress while out shopping with Cora, and Jessica had fallen instantly in love. It was cut like the old pin-up dresses—a square neckline and sleek fit that was only broken by a bow that tucked in her waist. It was sexy, but in a classy sort of way.
Best of all, it was black.
The party tonight was a masquerade ball, because of course. She had a feeling the woman who put the whole reunion together, Karly Stocker, had read Fifty Shades Darker a few too many times. The invitation had been explicitly clear about dressing up being a requirement of attending—the command had Karly written all over it.
There was nothing left to stall with. She headed downstairs. The house was eerily quiet, and she found herself instinctively avoiding the squeaky boards. The living room was empty, everything clean and looking like a show room. It’d been like that, even growing up—both house and family ready for company at the drop of a hat.
What would the neighbors think if they came by and there was something as offensive as a book laying on the couch cushion?
She found her mama in the kitchen, engaged in a furious standoff with Jake. Or, rather, Mama was furiously trying to stare a hole in the side of his head. Jake was making coffee. Her mama turned to her and her entire face fell. It would have been comical under difference circumstances. “Jessica, you cannot wear that.”
Jake finally looked up. His gaze skated from the top of her head to her toes and back again. “You look good, Jessie.”
“You would say that.” Mama pressed a hand to her chest like she was having a heart attack. “Jessica Jackson, go up to your room right this instant and change. You look like a hooker going to a funeral.”
Enough was enough.
“No.”
Her mama blinked and swayed, her hand moving from her chest to her throat. “Excuse me?”
It was bad enough that she was going through with the reunion, and that Jake was her date instead of some stranger who would have played his part and faded into the ether. But to come home and have her mama trying to cram her back into the girl she’d been was too much. It was a dress cut two sizes too small, ripping at the seams and choking the life out of her.
Words bubbled up, words that would hurt her mama but that might be necessary all the same. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t take that final step, no matter how necessary. “We have to go. Jake?”
He hesitated, and she didn’t have to see his face to know exactly what he was thinking. He wanted her to stand up for herself. He’d always wanted her to stand up to her mama.
Not now. Not like this. Not when twenty-eight years of pent-up frustration and hurt meant she was likely to say something unforgivable and ugly.
That wasn’t how she wanted to take back control of her life.
Take back? Honey, that would mean you actually had control at one point.
Without another word, she turned and walked out of the kitchen, down the hall, and out of the house. Footsteps echoed after her, the sound she knew as well as her own stride.
Jake didn’t touch her. He stopped the barest inch away. “The reunion isn’t until tonight.”
“I know. Isn’t there some kind of luncheon or something?”
“You didn’t read up on the information?”
She headed for his truck, but he got there first and opened the passenger door for her. “Jake, it’s a damn miracle that I’m here at all. So, no, I didn’t read up on the itinerary.” She flung herself into the truck. “Take me somewhere. Anywhere. Please.”
“Okay, love. Let’s go.”