Page 3 of Look What You Made Me Do

“You sure know how to make an entrance,” he said as he turned, shoving his big hands on narrow hips, drawing her gaze to the way his jeans hugged his powerful thighs.

Seeing no point in wasting time on pleasantries, Ella kicked the door shut and launched herself at the wall of his chest, ignoring his slight indrawn breath at her impact. The man was a star football player – he could certainly handle her.

“Ella.”

The pity in his voice was too much to bear as she twisted the fingers of one hand in the soft cotton of his button down and snaked the other around his neck. Lifting on her tippy toes, Ella dragged him down awkwardly, mashing her lips to his. Her fingers moved to his hair, the velvety fuzz of his number-two cut as decadently delicious as the scrape of his whiskers.

With a groan he pulled out of the kiss, holding her at arm’s length. “Don’t let them get to you, Ella,” he muttered, his breath falling harshly between them. “You were always too classy for this town.”

Ella growled in frustration, struggling against his hands, straining to get closer. “Damn it. I’m not a kid, Jake. I know what I want.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.” She pushed against his bonds. “I’m thirty-four years old. I’ve been making up my mind for a long time now.”

“Doing this as some kind of FU because you’re sad about your mom, isn’t very smart.”

He was right, it was a whole lot of dumb, but she was a big girl. “I’m offering you sex. Since when did you give a shit about a woman’s motivation?”

Jake’s playboy jock reputation was a thing of legend – both here and nationally. The man was the definition of a sure thing.

“It’s okay. No one has to know it didn’t happen,” he continued, ignoring her question in his best placatory voice. “We’ll just hang here for a bit then go on down.”

Ella blinked. She could see he was determined to be honorable Jake and couldn’t believe he’d chosen to develop some morals on the one day she needed him to be the one-and-done Jake of tabloid fame.

She gritted her teeth. “I don’t want to hang.” His gentle restraint on her arms was both aggravating and stimulating. “I want you to screw me. Quick and hard.”

Ever the good girl, Ella wasn’t big on crude language, but she wasn’t above using it either, if the situation required.

“And when you’re done with that, I want it long and slow.”

He met her bald statement with a lazy eyebrow quirk. “Little Ella Lucas.” He tutted. “Science geek, math nerd, teacher’s pet. If I’d only known you had such a filthy mouth, we could have been friends all those years ago.”

Ella snorted. As if she could ever have risked that.

“What’s the matter?” she taunted, determined not to be derailed. “Is The Prince too big time for some small-town action? Or is your injury more extensive than first thought? Can you not perform?”

Ella suddenly remembered his injury had been groin related. For a man whose groin (according to the tabloids) seemed to rest very little, it must be a frustrating experience.

Ignoring her first jab, he homed in on the second with a sardonic smile. “I can perform just fine.”

Ella smiled back. “Excellent.”

Sighing, he said, “You’re gonna hate yourself later.”

The absolute certainty in his words brought Ella up short and she stopped struggling. Of course she’d hate herself – she just didn’t do casual sex.

Ella knew he was right.

Hell, she had three university degrees in right. But she wasn’t here for his fortune-cookie advice. She was here for the sex. And from what she’d heard, Jake had a few degrees in that.

“Listen, in the last twenty-four hours, I’ve buried my mother, inherited a teenage brother I never knew existed and discovered that the entire town thinks I ran off with the school principal at the age of seventeen. If I’m going to be damned for my loose ways then you better believe I want to at least reap the benefits.”

“That’s a lot.” His hands fell to his sides. “You’re allowed to be angry.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said waspishly.

So nice to have permission from the guy who’d been given a get-out-of-jail-free card thanks to a football scholarship. Kick a pointy ball around a piece of grass and the world was your oyster. Work your butt off at school and people accused you of sleeping with the principal.

---