Page 34 of Love & Rockets

“You have?”

“Lord, Jake, there wasn’t a girl in the tenth grade who didn’t moon after you in the hallways.”

“Bull.”

This time she did laugh. “It’s true. And the fact that you never even noticed only made you more attractive.” Taking advantage of his stillness, she reclaimed his hand. “Connie Cade calls you Dr. Dreamboat.”

“Did not need to know that,” he murmured, looking down at their hands.

She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “If Zelda Jo knew I was here in your car talking about going up to your place and doing the wild thing, she’d be using the jaws of life to cut us out of here and badger us all the way to the bedroom about doin’ and not talkin’.” He groaned and she turned his hand over in hers. With the tip of her finger, she traced the length of his lifeline along his palm. “So, you see, it’s better if we keep things casual.”

“Uh-huh.”

She caught his gaze and held on. “But make no mistake, I’ve thought about this. About you. And not because you chickened out on kissing me the other night.”

The words were barely past her lips before his mouth was on hers.

Good gravy, the man could kiss. And this one was everything their previous kisses promised—hot, sweet, and sure. And despite anticipating the last bit, his self-assurance still came as a surprise. Darla tended to think about Jake as the guy who got excited when he and Gracie talked about eclipses or solar flares, and always needed a couple extra wet wipes when he ate his barbecue. But the man kissing her wasn’t the quiet, unassuming Jake she thought she knew.

No, this was the guy who had a reserved spot on every list of Mobile’s most eligible, and this Jake was making plenty of assumptions.

He made them with his tongue. And, bless his heart, those perfect teeth. Darla moaned into his mouth, running greedy hands up the hard ridges of his back as he menaced her lower lip with those pearly whites. Humming deep in his throat, he abandoned the teasing torment and closed his mouth over hers in a move that left her no alternative but to surrender.

Their tongues swirled and parried. She bunched the fine wool of his jacket in her first when he sucked her into his mouth, demanding she take as well as give. Darla fell back, arching her back and all but dragging the man over the center console. Her head hit the door pillar with a thud. Much to her consternation, Jake pulled away.

“Are you okay?”

She almost purred when he slid his hand into her hair. Sure, he was looking for evidence of injury, but she’d take it. Criminy, he looked so hot poised above her, his dark eyes feverish with lust, brow knit with worry. His mouth was wet. His lips gleamed in the dim glow from the security lights. She could almost see the gears turning in his mind. And the last thing she wanted was him applying his damn reason and logic to what was happening right here and now.

Splaying her hands on his chest, she copped a feel rather than pushing him away. “I assume you have a bed up in that condo.”

His forehead smoothed and those kiss-dampened lips parted. “Yes. A big one.”

“Good.” Sliding her hands up into his hair, she pulled him down until their noses nearly touched. “Take me there. Now.”

* * * *

Jake was a little slow about a lot of things, but he had absolutely no trouble with following explicit instructions. He had Darla inside and at his door in two minutes flat. The stupid elevator took forever. He usually took the stairs, but she was wearing those skyscraper heels, and he didn’t think dragging her up three flights would be the gentlemanly thing to do.

Of course, Darla didn’t share his sense of fair play. She was all over him as he tried to fit the key into the lock, hands on his back, his hips, and yes, sliding over his ass. He clenched and she chuckled, pressing her cheek to his coat. Even in her ridiculous shoes, she barely reached the middle of his back. The woman was as dangerous as C-4. Soft, malleable, and explosive as all hell. And he couldn’t wait to light the fuse.

The second the door swung shut behind them, he threw the deadbolt, tossed his keys in the general direction of a side table, and swept her up into his arms.

Darla whooped and laughed, letting her head fall back in a fake swoon as she grasped his shoulders when he started toward the bedroom. “Why, Dr. Dalton, whatever do you intend to do with me?”

Amused by her antics, he gave only a non-committal chuckle as he strode into the room and dropped her onto the bed with a bounce. She yelped again, but this time in dismay. Her dress gaped, exposing a long length of thigh and most of one pale, smooth breast. To his surprise, his pint-sized seductress wasn’t clad in sexy satin and lace beneath that lethal weapon of a dress. He stared at the nondescript beige bra and his mouth ran dry. Over the past few years, he’d undressed women who seemed to have entire catalogs of lingerie. He’d learned to master push-up bras, lacy thongs, and even encountered one of those corset-looking things once. And though he appreciated the effort, and the view, those women would have been as shocked as he was to discover plain old beige satin did the trick, too.

Darla scrambled to right herself. He couldn’t help but smile as she jerked the hem down her leg. This was the same woman who’d been alternately seducing and stonewalling him for the past hour or more. Yet, beneath her bold talk and sexual bluster, she was a nice Southern girl born and bred. And that turned him on even more.

God, he hoped her panties didn’t match. Not because he was fond of beige, but because it would be different. Real. He’d be making love to a woman who hadn’t spent the entire day buffing and polishing herself for a dinner date. She had better things to do with her time and more important ways to spend her money. Yes, they’d been raised in the same more-than-comfortable circumstances. Taught the same manners. Most likely attended the same mind-numbing dance classes at Miss Celine’s, and swum in the same over-chlorinated country club swimming pool, but Darla’s life had veered sharply off-course. The lack of a safety net forced her to learn a whole new set of skills. Ones he found intensely attractive. She had purpose and determination and a kind of grittiness that made him itch to smooth those rough patches with his bare hands.

She also had the most beautiful tits he’d seen in he didn’t know how long, and he had passed his level of endurance light years ago. He needed to get his hands on them. Now.

She shifted from hip to hip to free the material trapped under her. Before she could cover herself, he planted one knee on the bed and batted her fluttering fingers away from the treasure he’d uncovered. Wide brown eyes met his. He pressed his palm to her cheek to still her, then slid his fingers down her throat. Her pulse thrummed against the pad of his middle finger. She swallowed, and he let his thumb dip into the hollow at the base of her throat.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her sweet pink mouth.

“Everything.” The word was barely more than an exhale, but she didn’t look away.

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