Chapter Ten #3
He smiled, wondering if she couldn’t sleep for the same reason he was still up. Was she tossing and turning, thinking about that kiss? Was she naked and wondering what else he could do to her? His dick, hard again and pulsing, flexed as if to say, “Me, too.”
He punched the button on the steering wheel to listen.
Legs: Thank you for today. I had a nice time.
Thump, thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump, thump.
“That’s it?” As if that fucking hot kiss had never happened? “I don’t think so, sweetheart. You can’t drop a bombshell like ‘We’ll see’ and lock me out, then rattle my cage with a polite fuck off.”
Ping.
Legs: I’m sorry I ruined the end.
That took some of the steam out of his irritation.
Ping.
Legs: And I’m sorry I called you an asshole.
He barked out a laugh as he parked in his assigned space of the garage and took the elevator up to his floor. That she’d use a backhanded apology to break through the wall she’d erected to freeze him out was just like her. This was her pattern.
If he’d learned one thing about Jo, it was that underneath all that tough girl exterior, she was soft and scared and riddled with insecurity.
He also realized that, when the tough girl wall went up, especially when she was pissed, all he had to do was give her time to think—she wasn’t unreasonable—and once she collected her thoughts, she was fine.
That or he could push a few buttons, make her laugh or pique her interest.
Avery let himself inside his condo before he called her. Stopping in front of the bank of windows overlooking the city, he searched the horizon in the general direction of her apartment.
She answered on the second ring, her voice soft and raspy, “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket, then his tie. Both landed on the couch on his way to the fridge to grab a beer. “When did you call me an asshole? I only heard fuckboy.”
“Mmm, a few times. All day really…in my head.”
“Ah.” He leaned against the island, twisted the cap, and took a long drink as he recapped the day, wondering which of his actions warranted the label.
“I hope my texts didn’t wake you.”
“Nah, I just got home.”
“I told you I’d meet you somewhere. You shouldn’t have to come all this way.”
“You’re actually not that far. I went out after I dropped you off, met a friend at Pulse.”
“Oh.”
The single syllable sank like a guilty weight in his gut.
Ah, fuck no. He had nothing to feel guilty about. And no reason to lie. This was the deal they’d made.
“Well, I won’t keep you then,” she said, her tone now sharp with disapproval and maybe a hint of jealousy.
“You’re not.”
“You should get back to your friend.”
Yeah, it was there, just under the surface. Jealous women were a big turn off…usually. “I called you, remember?”
“Right, well…”
“Jo, I came home alone.”
Why the fuck am I explaining?
“It’s none of my business. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go.”
“Why are you still awake?” he asked before she could hang up.
What the fuck am I doing?
Why was it so important for her to understand he’d left the club alone? He shouldn’t care what she thought of him, but somehow, he did, and the lapse of silence, long and loud while he waited for her to answer, scraped his nerves raw.
“I was baking cookies.”
“What kind?” His head lolled back, and he closed his eyes. Now, he sounded desperate, grasping for a reason to keep talking.
“Snickerdoodle.”
He didn’t make small talk with women. He flirted. He fucked. Then he was done. That wasn’t happening with this one. This one was different. This was business. She was off-fucking-limits.
Just admit you like her.
“I like white chocolate chip macadamia nut.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” The smile in her voice crossed the distance between them, but she went quiet, and he waited for her to put words to the thoughts ricocheting around in her head.
“You know, I was prepared not to like your family. I thought, ‘Rich and snobby, they’ll be easy to deceive.’ But they’re neither of those things, and I feel guilty lying to them. ”
Valid concerns, sure. Just not what he’d hoped to hear. But then both of them were skirting the subject he wanted to broach.
“Me, too.” Probably not as much as he should, but… “I think it’s a good idea if we keep our time spent with them to a minimum, so they don’t get too attached.”
“Is that why you lied to Charlotte about asking Lincoln to look at property?”
Busted. “Yeah, sorry. It’s best if you stick to meeting with Charlotte as a client. The less time you spend with any of them the better. But I’ll make the property search happen.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll find something when the time comes.” Her pride was busy stacking bricks to rebuild the wall he was trying to breach.
“Hang on.” He lowered the phone to send a quick text to Linc. The screen was dim. Low battery. Only seven percent left.
“Avery, no,” he heard her say as he popped in a pair of earbuds from the kitchen charging station.
The message to Linc was done before the buds connected. “Too late.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m nowhere near that stage.”
Lifting the bottle to his lips, he thrummed his fingers against the counter.
He’d do some research and run the numbers.
Other than the thirty thousand he’d paid her, he had no inkling of how much money she had.
Probably wasn’t enough. Still, there had to be a way.
“I’ve got connections. Which bank did you talk to about a loan? ”
“Avery, stop. It’s not your problem.”
For some reason, her dream had become important to him.
And not just because he’d gotten her fired.
She was smart, talented, and worked hard.
She deserved to reach her full potential, and he could help her, wanted to see her succeed.
He could make that loan happen. Hell, he could give her the money.
He sighed. If she wouldn’t accept his help with a loan, she sure as fuck wouldn’t accept a handout, which is how she’d see it. But…
Maybe they could extend their arrangement.
The idea poured over him like a good whiskey, hot and heady.
It felt right and, at the same time, a little dangerous, but it would satisfy both their needs.
Hers for more capital; his for…what? Besides the ache in his balls and the craving to hear her scream his name as she shattered into a million pieces beneath him?
Whatever it was, it was a bridge not yet stable enough to cross. She’d know his suggestion for what it was, and that stubborn pride of hers would demand refusal.
“Charlotte said you wanted to surprise me today,” she said, clashing with his thoughts. “Why go to that much trouble when you could have just given her my number?”
“I don’t know.” And he didn’t. But seeing the look on her face when Charlotte told her she’d fired Giselle had been worth it.
“I do,” she said softly, then laughed. “You’re a nice guy when you’re not being a dick.”
“Fuck, don’t tell anyone.” Taking one last sip from the bottle, he left it unfinished and headed down the hall to his room. “Besides, I almost didn’t pull it off with your need to control everything. Hence the dick moves.”
He plugged his phone into the docking station on his nightstand and emptied his pockets onto the dresser.
“I am a bit of a control freak.” The smile was back in her voice, and he could see her crystal blue eyes twinkling. “Seriously, though, thank you for today. It meant a lot.”
Toeing off his shoes, he unbuckled his belt and unclasped his pants. “You’re welcome.”
The zipper hissed its way down, and he wondered if she heard it and was imagining him undressing.
He stripped off his pants and boxer briefs and sat on the edge of the bed.
The hard-on he’d been sporting since he got her text sprang into his waiting hand.
“I have to admit, it was kind of fun, watching you work the problems I threw at you.”
“See, dick.”
Yeah, I see it, all right.
Avery wrapped his fingers around said dick and rode the length from base to tip and back again. He pictured a smudge of flour on her cheek. Could almost smell the batter in her hair and taste the sugar on her lips. “Are you still baking?”
“No…I’m in bed.”
Growling, he yanked back the covers and stretched across the cold, crisp sheets, legs spread. His free hand cupped his balls. This was what he needed.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said.
“About me?” he asked, just to hear her laugh.
Instead, she whispered, “Yeah.”
Anticipation whizzed through him. This was the opening he’d been waiting for. “About what ‘we’ll see’ means?”
“Yeah.”
“And did you figure it out?”
“Yeah.”
Anticipation hummed along his spine, amping up his heartbeat and hanging onto the edge of her next answer. “Tell me what you want, Jo.”
“More bases,” she breathed, that low and seductive rasp reaching through the phone to wrap around his dick, milking a drop of pre-cum from the tip on his next stroke up.
His fist tightened at the base. “Fuck me.”
“Slow down. We’ll start with second base.”
He grunted. “How long am I gonna be stuck there? And what about your rules?”
“That depends on how good you really are. I mean, you talk a good game, but…”
“Oh, I got game. And I seem to recall scoring a whimper and a moan today, so keep talking.”
“As for my rules,” she said as if she wasn’t blushing from head to toe, “I’m sure I can come up with a work around.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with my Jo?” Another moment of awkward silence dragged by before he realized his fuckup. Pretending not to notice, he growled, “Hel-lo?”
“Um, the way I figure it, why not? In four weeks, we’ll walk away without looking back, so rule number three is still at the top of the list.”
“If it’s at the top, it would be rule number one.” Avery released his dick and folded his arms behind his head. The conversation sounded familiar, and if it was like the last one, it would take a while. “Which one is rule number three?”