Page 51 of Hot for the Jerk

What would she do if I just grabbed her by the back of the neck and kissed her?

Would she push me away?Remove our ceasefire?

Giving into my baser instincts would surely set us back to archrivals, if not put my name at the top of her hit list.And she definitely struck me as a woman who had a hit list.Just in case a realPurgeever came about, and given the current state of the country and politics, I wasn’t about to rule it out.

I cleared my throat and faced forward, hitting the button to turn on the car.Then we were back on the road, heading toward the marina.In no time, we’d be on our own island again, and could pretend—not that I wanted to—that none of this ever happened.

Only it did happen.And it had forever changed me.

It forever changed me and how I saw the sharp, spiky, delicious-smelling rosebush named Raina Aaronson.

My only hope was that she would allow me to be her friend when we got home.

Or maybe her acquaintance, at the very least.

Perhaps, an acquaintance who randomly went down on her from time to time.

Ah, fuck, my cock was hard again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Raina

I’dnevercommittedafelony before.Yet, when I read Jagger’s mind earlier about getting revenge for Lenora, I didn’t even hesitate.I didn’t even second-guess myself at all.

And I certainly didn’t feel guilty, or any kind of remorse afterward.All I felt was exhilaration.

Ever since last night, things between Jagger and me had been awkward.I wanted to say last night was a mistake, but I couldn’t.Last night was incredible.Yet, now, things between us were awkward.At least until we slashed Walt and the Homewrecker’s tires, then laughed and ran all the way back to my car.

The way he looked at me in the car, hundreds of little raindrops on the lenses of his glasses, his cheeks rosy, dark-blue eyes sparkly and bright … he studied me hard.Almost like he wanted to kiss me.But it was more than that.Like he wanted to grab me, take my mouth and claim it.

I wanted that too.

I wanted to feel the scratch of his beard against my cheeks, chin, and lips.To taste his tongue and melt into the solid heat of his body.

But I couldn’t.

We couldn’t.

Last night was a onetime thing.An arrangement.An offering.But there was no second-helping or encore hanging in the wind.He never extended one, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask for one.That would definitely just give him something to lord over my head and tease me about.

We drove in silence to the marina, parked my car, and headed down the ramp toward the docks, where a group of people—also stranded on Wayman for two nights—gathered with their luggage and waited for the water taxi.It came into view just as we joined the rest of the passengers, probably returning from a previous run to San Camanez.A few people were on board—no doubt those who got stranded on San Camanez but lived on Wayman.

“Hey, Jagger,” greeted a bearded bear of a man with rosy cheeks, in a red flannel jacket that was perhaps a touch too small for his belly, and a tattered, black baseball cap.He held out his enormous hand and Jagger shook it.

“Hey, Gus.You’re our shuttle captain today, huh?”

“Yeah, this is our third run so far.Gabe Griswald from San Cam has been doing runs too.You guys might be the last one for us though.We’ll see how the winds are.”Gus’s brown eyes glanced past Jagger and me to more people coming down the ramp.“We leave in about ten.”

“Sounds good.”Jagger slapped Gus on the back as the big aluminum boat sidled up to the dock and a young man in hip waders and a gray, wool long-sleeve shirt hopped onto the dock to tie up the boat.He immediately noticed Jagger and his face broke into a big smile, before he gave an enthusiastic wave.

“Do you knoweveryone?”I asked, regretting the slight dollop of venom in my tone.Why was I being so hostile right now?

Jagger glanced down at me.“I know a lot of people.It’s my job to make connections.I also justlikepeople, and besides you—you little cactus—people seem to like me too.”He smirked and shook his head slightly before a young man with patchy facial hair and cooked spaghetti for limbs bounded toward us.“Hey, Caleb.How’s it going?”

Caleb—who couldn’t have been more than twenty-one—shrugged.“Happy to be back on the water, that’s all I can say.Didn’t know you got stuck over here.That sucks.”

Jagger shrugged again.“Yeah, it wasn’t so bad.”

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