Page 27 of Fighting Jacob

Me: I'd rather be your friend than not have you in my life at all.

I glare at my phone, praying for it to ding. Lola takes it one step further by calling me instead.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” she questions, not waiting for me to issue a greeting. “I can’t give you anything more than my friendship.”

“It’s better than not having you in my life at all.”

Nothing but honesty rings in my tone. I like Lola. She has spunk and charisma, and I enjoy spending time with her, even when we're not doing anything sexual.

“Then let’s be friends.”

With my drunk head hearing her giggled statement differently than she intended, I growl down the line, “Is this a friends with benefits deal?”

Her laughter tightens the front of my pants. “Maybe...”

That’s good enough for me... for now.

Chapter Thirteen

Lola

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

I swing my hips harder, working my disastrous getup like I’m a model on the catwalk. My attempts to act seductive only make Jacob laugh even harder.

“Shut up.” I slap his chest, praying it will shut his mouth. His laugh... my god. Enough to moisten the panties of a saint. I love his hearty chuckle. It’s one of his best assets...amongst many other wonderful things.

Six weeks ago, when I told Jacob I didn't want Noah hooking up with a bar skank, it was a ploy to cover my jealousy. Seeing him flirt with another girl directly in front of me irritated the shit out of me. What he does in his free time doesn't bother me, but I'd prefer him being discreet. Not that I'd ever tell him that. The fact he made me jealous already has me at a disadvantage, so I'd never up the ante for him.

Our "friendship" has been going great the past six weeks. Only three times have we overstepped the line we drew in the sand. It's not my fault I succumbed to the chemistry bristling between us. I’ve been in a sexual rut, and since it’s Jacob’s fault, it’s only fair he fixes the problem.

A majority of my days are spent at Mavs. When I'm not there, I'm with Jacob. Being friends with him is the equivalent of strapping a big neon sign to my chest, warning guys to back the fuck up. If Jacob is around, they refuse to approach me. Our harmless flirting may have tiptoed over the rules we negotiated weeks ago, but we’re adults who understand the “friends with benefits” situation we have going. We’re not hurting anyone, so why does it matter if those around us don’t understand our arrangement?

Jacob watches me round the hood of his car and slip into the passenger seat before asking, “Seriously—what the fuck are you wearing?”

“I thought this might help me pass.” I shrug. “No harm in trying, right?”

This morning, I have my fourth driving test. Although I’m confident in the skills Jacob has taught me the past two months, despite what people say, I know my last three fails were because the female driving instructors didn’t appreciate my miniskirts and midriff tops as much as the male instructors did. Today, I decided to mix things up. By dressing conservatively, I’m hoping they’ll judge my driving skills instead of my so-called “slutty” reputation.

Grinning, Jacob climbs into the driver’s seat of his car. As he latches his belt, his eyes stray to me once more. He laughs again, even louder this time.

“Alright, now you’re just being an asshole.” I fold my arms under my chest, pretending to be mad. I’m not, but his laugh is making me want to do naughty things I swore we wouldn’t do again.

"I'm sorry, Lola." Breathy chuckles punctuate his words. "But you just extinguished any wet dreams I might have had about you this week."

My mouth pops open as my heart beats double-time. One, he just admitted I star in his dreams. And two, he insinuated he doesn’t find me attractive.

Ouch, take that ego!

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I keep my breaths at a pussy cat purr while climbing over the console to straddle his lap. “Do you have something against naughty librarians who spank bad boys in the book stacks?”

Air hisses from his mouth when my endeavor to wrap my legs around his chunky hips causes the split in my skirt to ride up high. Add that scandalous bit of skin to the unbuttoning of my blouse to give him a sneak peek of the lace bra hiding beneath, and we've got a reaction no amount of laughing could deny. He's heavy underneath me, the pulse in his cock enough to detonate every one of my hot buttons.

“Jacob...”

His lips steal the rest of my plea. With my hair fisted in his big manly hand, he tilts my head back before slipping his tongue between my parted lips. He devours me with long, sensual licks and teasing bites while I respond to the tingles dancing in my core by grinding down on him. It’s 10 AM on a Saturday, yet we’re acting as if we’re parked anywhere but in my parents’ driveway.

I’m seconds from whipping his cock out of his pants when a car honk interrupts us. Considering our location, that means it can only be one of two people interrupting us.

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