Page 69 of Jump

“Babe.” He angles a little closer and feathers his lips across mine. “I don’t care that she knows. I don’t care if the entire town finds out. In fact,” he chuckles in the back of his throat. “It probably will after tonight, since I was talking to Jack about you at the gym.”

My stomach dips. “You said my name?”

He nods, quiet, but potent in the way he stares down into my eyes. “I said your name. We talked women and relationships and all that shit.” He slips his tongue past my lips and rescues the bottom one from between my teeth. “I told him everything, and word on the street is the Rollers are fucking gossips, so… we’re on a timer.”

“A-a timer?” I stammer. “What do you—”

“Word will eventually spread,” he says simply. “We won’t have a choice, because you chose to live in a tiny town where everyone knows everyone’s business.”

He sniggers when my temper alights and kicks my nerves to the curb.

“This is gonna be public knowledge eventually, Anarchy, whether we decide to mention it or not. It’ll start slow. Jack tells Bobby, Bobby tells Kit. Kit, the fighter chick, tells her sister-in-law, until…”

“It spreads,” I breathe, my chest emptying with the movement. “Like your forest fires.”

He snorts and smacks a kiss to the center of my forehead. It’s more an attack than a gesture of affection, but before I can retaliate, he turns away and tosses his blankets back so they drape across me.

Bare-ass naked, he strolls across his room to the closet, his glutes firing up as he walks, and steps into a fresh pair of boxer shorts. Then he pulls dark gray sweatpants over those. Glancing over his shoulder and looking me up and down, he stops only when my cheeks warm, and my nerves return in full force.

“You look good in my bed, Ana. Makes me wanna climb back in there right now and call it a night.”

Braver than I feel, I open the blankets and reveal all of me, as naked as he was a moment ago. “So do it. I don’t wanna get up, and if I do manage to climb out of this bed, I’m not sure I’ll be courageous enough to return without a stone-etched invitation.”

“Mm. I’ll start chiseling.”

He grabs a shirt from the closet, but before putting it on, he wanders back my way, places his knee between my legs, and braces himself over me so all I see is him. His playful expression, and his stubborn jaw. The bruising that a champion fighter put on his face today, and the smug grin that says it was all worth it.

“I don’t care who knows about us.” He lowers and presses a gentle kiss to the very center of my lips. “I don’t care for the opinion of anyone except me and you.”

“Me?” My heart stutters. “You care about my opinion?”

“I care that I carry myself in a way you can respect. That you can be proud of.” Lowering one last time, he slides his tongue across mine and draws a groan from somewhere deep in my chest. “I care that you like me—because I went ahead and fell in love, like a fuckin’ chump. It’d suck if I pissed you off now, and you decided you were done being near me. Now get up.” He smacks the side of my thigh, so pain ricochets through my blood and leaves me stunned, after an hour of tenderness. “It’s dinnertime.”

“You asshole.”

I toss my blankets aside and turn to sit on the edge of the bed. But I’m naked, and he’s not.

Now I have to do the walk of shame in my own home while he watches.

“Could you turn away?” I peer at him and glare. “I’d think better of you if you allowed me this moment of privacy.”

“Eh.” He plops down right beside me and slides the very tip of his finger across my pebbled nipple. Goosebumps sprint to the top of my spine, and a shiver follows, just to add insult to injury.

“I said I care about what you think,” he clarifies. “And though I’d die for you, Ana… though I’d slay a motherfucker for you, I can’t say I’ll turn away purely because you don’t wanna show me how far your blush spreads. So…” He sets his hands on my hips, and lifts until my feet touch the floor and I’m standing for his perusal. “Walk for me, beautiful. Extra points if you make your ass jiggle.”

“You’re a pig,” I snarl, refusing to turn and face him front-on. “And I hate your guts. In fact, I think very little of you.”

“Triple points if you bend over right now and touch your toes.” A feral groan rolls along his throat and leaves me breathless. “Let me eat you out and stick my tongue in your ass.” He flashes an arrogant grin and sets my stomach on fire. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

He’s teasing me. Playing a game of chicken we both know he’ll win, because I’m allergic to confrontation. But I’ll be damned if my thighs don’t turn wet because of his words.

Still, I face the doorway and start forward. “I’m leaving.”

“Only for a minute,” he calls at my back. “Get dressed, then come out and have dinner with me. You promised a baked lamb and a chick flick. Don’t let me down now.”

“I’m leaving for good.” I start into the hall and duck through my bedroom door just a second later. Dashing to my closet, I take out a silky robe and slip my arms through the sleeves. “I’m done with you.”

“I’ll find you.”

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