Page 38 of Love & Rockets

“Oh, you got me there.” She flashed him a reassuring smile. “I was right there, but then I started thinking about your arms and dry-cleaning and if I should buy a shadowbox for this dress, and I kind of lost the thread.”

At last, she managed to work the button free. Jake yanked his hand from the sleeve then sat back on his heels as he attacked the other. “Shadowbox?”

“One of those frame things for memorabilia. Like a keepsake.”

He tugged his other hand free then hurled the shirts across the room like an NFL quarterback launching a Hail Mary. “Stupid shirts.”

His petulant muttering made her smile even wider. How come no one ever told her there was nothing sexier than a rumpled man in a snit?

She was about to tease him a little, see if she could goad him into a full-on rant, but he knocked the wind right out of her by picking up the hand she’d used to touch herself and drawing her fingers to his mouth. Their eyes locked as he touched his lips to the center of her palm and inhaled as if testing the bouquet on a glass of fine wine.

“Next time, I’ll get you there.”

Her back bowed right off the bed when he drew the first finger into his mouth. Conflicting emotions swamped her. She wanted to pull her hand away. She wanted him inside her again. The curl of his tongue around her was maddening on its own, but when he closed his eyes and sucked as if he could pull the very essence of her from her skin, she rose up to meet him.

“Jake—”

He released her index finger with a pop, met her startled gaze, then drew her middle finger deep.

“Cheese and crackers, you have to stop.”

To her relief and dismay, he did. Releasing her hand, he tilted his head inquiringly. “Cheese and crackers?”

She blinked in confusion, then the tumblers clicked, unlocking a sheepish laugh. “Sorry. Parental hazard. Kids are wondrous things. They can categorically refuse to learn the words to ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’, but drop one F-bomb, and suddenly you’ve got a talking parrot on your hands.”

“Cheese and crackers,” he repeated, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Got ya.”

He planted a loud, smacking kiss on her lips and shoved himself off the bed. Hiking his pants up, he denied her a truly spectacular view as he turned on his heel and headed for the attached bath. “Be right back,” he called over his shoulder.

The second the door closed between them, Darla lifted her hand and stared, incredulous. “You are so grounded.”

“What?” Jake called from the other side of the door.

“Nothing!”

Casting a wary eye about her, she scooted off the seriously mussed bed and hurriedly started straightening her clothes. Shoes, dress, bra, slightly worse for wear panties. She jiggled and shook until she had everything back where it belonged. By the time she heard the click of the latch, she was pulling the duvet smooth once more. There. No evidence left at the scene. Well, almost no evidence. Jake was missing his shirt and, if she wasn’t mistaken, she had a decent case of beard burn developing on her neck. The stinging was a minor discomfort—

“What are you doing?”

“Making the bed,” she replied, straightening from the task with an over-bright smile. “See? Good as new. You’ll sleep well tonight.”

His eyes narrowed, but Darla was finding it hard to keep her eyes up. The man had a nearly terminal case of the too-good-to-be-trues going on, and someone somewhere had once said something about seeing being believing—

“Why do I get the feeling you think you won’t be sleeping there with me?”

Again, she flashed a full set of teeth at him. “Well, you know.” She wrinkled her nose to indicate he really should know, but his implacable stare made it obvious he was going to make her spell everything out for him. “I think we’d be better off if you took me home.”

“Better off? Better for who?”

“Whom,” she corrected automatically. He quirked a thick brow, and she gave an apologetic shrug. “It’s actually better for whom.”

“I don’t think it’ll be good for anyone.” He started, stopped, sputtered a little, then pushed his hand through his hair so hard he left those irresistible furrows in the thick waves. “Crepes Suzette, Darla, we didn’t even get our clothes off!”

“Crepes Suzette?”

He shrugged. “Worth a try.”

There and then, she fell completely and utterly in love with Jake Dalton.

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