11. Aurora
11
AURORA
THE DEAD AUNT CLICHé
“Y es,” was the breath that slipped free from my mouth as Jack’s hands slid into my hair. Delicious pinpricks of heat and anticipation flashed down my neck, and across my chest and arms the moment his mouth grazed mine.
He swallowed my gasp as he tilted his head and stole my breath with another kiss.
“Jack,” I whispered.
His name was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Strong hands slid up and down my arms before wrapping around my bare waist. He let out a guttural growl that made my heart race.
The man knew how to kiss. There was no hesitance. No nerves. It was a fast-paced dance that he was leading with confidence and ease. The kiss never broke as Jack slid me onto his lap, then tipped us both back onto the couch. His massive body loomed over me.
Our heartbeats matched in time as his chest pressed against mine. He cupped my cheek, thumb grazing the corner of my mouth again.
“Open for me, Roar . Be a good girl.”
I gasped as heat blazed through me like an inferno. Every inch of my body was on fire. How long had it been since I had wanted someone like this?
How long had it been since someone had wanted me?
“Atta girl,” he said in a tone that was full of heat and filthy, filthy promises. His tongue traced my lips before diving deeper. My back arched, seeking more of him. I craved the feeling of being fused and sealed in the most primal, carnal way.
Jack wrapped his hand around my thigh and squeezed, drawing it up and over his hip.
“Fuck,” I gasped, throwing my head back the moment I felt his hard length press between my legs. His gym shorts were doing nothing to hold his erection back, and my thin cotton shorts let me feel everything.
I tightened my legs around his waist as Jack rocked back and forth. His mouth was warm and supple as he sucked hard on my neck.
We were floating, riding the high of intimacy and ecstasy. My skin was numb and acute at the same time.
Kissing Jack was an out-of-body experience. It was heat and light and shelter and safety and comfort. There was a necessity to have him near. After one kiss, I didn’t think I would survive without him.
“You’re gonna make me come in my fucking shorts,” he grunted.
A devilish thought popped up in my mind. I cocked my head and grazed his earlobe with my teeth as I rocked up and down his shaft. “ I’m not stopping you, hotshot.”
“Roar,” he choked out, gasping as I licked around the shell of his ear.
I kissed the paper-thin skin behind his ear and sucked ever so gently. Jack’s arms trembled as he tried to hold himself up.
I had found his weakness.
His breathing went threadbare. “ Roar ,” he croaked.
I slid my hand down his chest and abs, wrapping my hand around his cock. “ Wouldn’t it feel so fucking good to come?” I teased in a whisper.
His hand shot out and shackled my throat, squeezing until I was the one gasping.
And I smiled.
I released his cock as exhilaration bloomed inside me.
“Is that what gets you off, Roar ? Teasing me?” His other hand slid beneath the spandex of my sports bra and squeezed. “ Two can play that game, baby girl.”
“Fine,” I rasped. “ Let’s see who wins.”
The answer was no one.
My phone rang just as Jack’s thumb swiped across my nipple. I let out an embarrassingly desperate whimper at the intrusion.
“Saved by the bell,” he groused as he left a blazing path of kisses down my neck.
“Ignore it,” I clipped.
There was a lustful darkness in his eyes that lingered the longer he stared into mine. It was a hard contrast to the playboy smirk on his lips. “ Consider this payback for smacking me in the face with a dick.”
I rocked my hips against his once more, teasing his cock. “ Pretty sure the only one you’re punishing is yourself.”
Without warning, he cupped the apex of my thighs, possessively squeezing my sex with the palm of his hand. I gasped at the delightful sparks that skittered across my pelvis.
“Is that so?” he murmured.
“Jack—”
“Tell me what you want, Roar .”
“Make me come.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His thumb found my clit outside of my shorts and gently worked it side-to-side.
“More,” I whispered, sinking into the couch as every synapse focused on his touch, ready to fire at his command.
“One question,” Jack murmured against my lips. When a whimper was my only response, he continued. “ What happens if I let you come?”
“I’ll return the favor and we’ll call it even.”
“And after?”
“We go back to being neighbors.”
There was a hitch in his ministrations. “ Then this is as far as I’m gonna let you get,” he whispered before easing off me.
The cool air marking the absence of him was more of an insult than the lack of an orgasm.
“What the hell?” I blistered.
His eyes were stormy and serious as he hovered over me. “ Once won’t be enough for me. I want more.”
I gaped at him. “ You expect me to?—”
“Be honest with yourself, the way I am.”
I rocked my ass, seeking a little more friction, but Jack grabbed my hips and pinned my ass to the couch.
“We barely like each other,” I said.
“I like you enough to?—”
“Don’t say that. Don’t give me those cliché lines. I write that shit. Hate to break it to you, but it doesn’t affect me.”
Jack shrugged like the last ten minutes hadn’t just happened. “ When you want more, come find me.”
I scoffed. “ Seriously ?”
There was a weight in his gaze. “ I’m not a rebound, Roar . I’m not a summertime fantasy.”
“I don’t think being stranded in the middle of nowhere in an old, creepy house is a fantasy,” I snapped. “ I’m not sticking around for more. I’ll be gone at the end of the summer. You know that.”
He just shrugged. “ You want another slice before I put the leftovers in the fridge?”
Was he for real?
I grabbed my phone off the coffee table. Whoever wanted my attention had called again, kicking off another set of rings. “ I’m leaving,” I snapped.
“Running away. How novel,” he said drolly with his back to me. “ I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
The sun was just starting to dance across the horizon as I stormed across the hedge path. Just who the hell did he think he was? And what the hell had just happened?
I was so caught up in my fury that I didn’t see the hole where a mostly dead bush had once lived. I jolted as my right foot slammed into the hole and I careened forward. I shrieked as I face-planted on the ground. Sharp pain bloomed hot and fast around my ankle before settling into a dull throb.
“Shit,” I groaned as I rolled over onto my back, just in time to hear Jack’s front door slam.
An asshole-sized shadow loomed over me. I peeled open my eyes to see him huff as he set his hands on his hips.
“What am I gonna do with you?”
My only response to Jack’s comment was to flash my middle finger.
“Come on,” he said as he knelt down and offered a hand.
I didn’t take it. What did he play me for? A horny fool?
I was only one of those things, thank you very much.
“Just leave me here to die,” I gritted out. “ Go eat your fucking pizza or do whatever it is you do when you’re not driving me crazy.”
Jack’s voice was soft. “ I’m not leaving you here, Roar . Come on. Let me help you inside.”
“I can get inside just fine,” I hissed.
The sunset painted him in oranges and pinks, matching the blaze in his eyes. “ Rest , ice, compression, and elevate,” he murmured as he prodded around my ankle. “ Does your ice maker work?”
“Yes. It works,” I clipped as I swatted his hand away. “ I’m perfectly capable of dealing with a sprained ankle.”
“Hang tight. Let me grab a bandage and I’ll get it wrapped.”
“Go home, Jack ,” I snapped.
“Why are we sending the hot guy away?”
I gasped at the new voice that carried across the wind. I whipped around to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
Whitney and Willow were craned over the balcony, staring down at us.
Jack looked up at them. “ Do you know them or should I call the cops?”
Before he could answer, the girls bolted down the stairs and ran across the yard. I scrambled up to my feet. Momentarily distracted by the surprise, I forgot all about my ankle.
I squeaked the moment I put pressure on it and nearly fell again. But Jack was faster, catching me with strong arms underneath mine to keep me upright.
The war between my head and my heart had escalated into a bloodbath. Jack wasn’t at fault for everything I had been through over the last year. But after surviving it, I wasn’t about to do something reckless.
Pretending that I could commit to more than a quick fuck would have been cruel to both of us.
I didn’t have to linger in Jack’s arm for long. Whitney and Willow tackled me in a hug, pulling me free from the tumultuous feelings I was drowning in.
“What are you guys doing here?” I murmured into their shoulders.
Whitney pulled away first, giving me an “are you kidding me?” look. “ You don’t get to quit. Sorry , but that’s not your decision to make.”
I tensed. So , they were here to convince me to write another book.
Out of everyone, Whitney and Willow should have understood what I was going through. There was writer’s block, and then there was writer’s block.
It was like a baseball player getting the yips or a gymnast getting the twisties. Some people could overcome it. For others, it was a career ender.
I had come to terms with the fact that I’d never step up to the plate again. I didn’t need someone to drag me back into a game.
“It’s not that simple. I’m done. I lost my publishing deal.”
Whitney rolled her eyes. “ You don’t get to quit on us. So , yes. We hopped on flights and rented a car and drove out to”—she glanced around—“wherever this non-island island is.”
“If you’re going to have a mental breakdown and midlife crisis, you should at least do it with margaritas,” Willow said. “ I brought a blender.”
I laughed, because I didn’t know what else to say. I shouldn’t have expected anything less. “ I don’t even have beds in the house. I literally threw them all away.”
Whitney tossed her light brown hair over her shoulder. She wasn’t in her auburn wig today, but she looked just as fabulous. “ We brought air mattresses.”
“Ice and rest,” Jack said as he stepped back from the mob and disappeared over the hedge.
“Um, okay. So him running out of his house to save you when you stormed out was totally hot.” Whitney squealed, jumping up and down. “ You have your own cliché!”
I rolled my eyes. We had teased Whitney for ages over how she met her husband, Miles . She really was a book cliché—falling in love with her bodyguard in a “just one bed” scenario. I couldn’t have written it better if I tried.
“I do not have a cliché.”
“You so do!” Willow said as she took over for Jack , offering support as I limped toward the stairs. “ You have the dead great-aunt cliché!"
“Geez!” I barked out a laugh. “ What the hell is that?”
“It’s where you inherit some old property from a dead relative, then meet the hunky small-town fisherman and fall madly in love,” Willow said.
Whitney nodded. “ There’s always a storm or something too. Has the weather been bad lately?”
“Jack is a firefighter. Not a fisherman,” I grunted as I loped up the stairs. “ And the weather’s been fine.”
“A firefighter?” Willow looked back in the direction of Jack’s house. “ Does he have a brother? I want one.”
“They’re not collectibles, Wills .” I let out a sharp huff when we made it to the top and eased onto the balcony. “ And he’s on my last nerve. He cockblocks me, then does something sweet like help me out of a hole when I twist my ankle.”
Willow’s eyebrows darted up. “ Girl . I saw the way he was looking at you. If he looks at you like that over a twisted ankle, I can’t imagine what he would do if it was something bigger. Honestly , I will throw you off of this balcony just to get him over here again. I want to find out.”
The minute I hobbled inside, I froze. “ How long have you guys been here?”
“I dunno,” Whitney said as she made herself at home in the packed kitchen. The formerly empty countertops were now full of grocery bags. Tortilla chips had been poured in a massive bowl that I didn’t know I owned. A jar of salsa sat beside it. “ How long were you over there with Mr . Four Alarm Fire ?"
I rolled my eyes. “ His name is Jack , remember?”
“ Jack ,” Willow cooed with a wistful smile. “ I love that name. It fits him so well.”
“You don’t even know him,” I countered.
“I know his type,” Willow said. “ He’s got that protector gene. Strong and soft. Macho , but still in touch with his emotions. Is he emotionally available? He seems like he goes to therapy and calls his mom every day.”
“First, he’s not a book character. And second, what the hell are you guys even doing out here? If you flew all the way out here to convince me to not quit, I’m sorry, but you’ve wasted your time.”
The girls shared a look that I couldn’t read. Apparently , writer’s block also unsubscribed me from friend telepathy.
Willow reached into a brown paper bag and pulled out a bottle of tequila. Good tequila. “ We don’t give two shits if you never write a book again. But the WWs have three rules: no one struggles alone, no one drinks alone, and no one calls their mothers without the rest of us on standby.”
“We’re not here to talk you out of quitting. We’re here because you don’t get to leave us. Sorry . It’s not your choice. We’re your friends whether you like it or not.” Whitney doled out shot glasses and slices of lime. “ So , point us to the sledgehammers and bottom’s up.”