Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
After gathering a few things and arranging to meet Britt at her place once the restaurant closed, Laurel found herself sitting in Jake’s living room while he took a shower. Since they’d both smelled like smoke, he’d offered to let her take one first, but she’d declined. After all, she could’ve taken one at her apartment before they’d left, but she hadn’t. Something about being naked while Jake was in the next room made her feel too exposed, so she’d opted to wait and take one at Britt’s.
The problem was, even though she was fully clothed—thankfully, now including pants—Jake was naked in the shower. The thought of him wet underneath the spray… yeah, that was doing some serious damage to her common sense.
What would he do if I joined him?
See? Major damage.
It would be a horrible idea to strip off her leggings and sweatshirt and hop in with him. And she definitely shouldn’t slide her hands over the hard planes of his chest and down the ridged muscles of his abdomen before she tasted his?—
“Fudgsicles! Stop already!”
She pushed off the couch and walked over to the fireplace. It was an actual wood-burning fireplace as opposed to an electric one, like most houses had these days. His house couldn’t be very old, so she wondered if he specifically requested a wood-burner. Who knows? Maybe he liked chopping wood.
Shirtless.
Glistening with sweat under the hot rays of the sun.
Jeans slung low with the top button undone, so all she had to do was slide them down and?—
“Oh, my heck! Get a grip!”
On his large, throbbing?—
Laurel scrunched her face and growled in frustration. “You are such a horndogger!”
“I’m a what?”
She squeaked and spun around, and the air dissipated from her lungs.
Holy Mary mother of marshmallows!
Jake was standing in the archway of the hall, bare-chested, rubbing his wet hair with a towel, wearing?—
911! Call 911! Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!
Gray sweatpants.
She was fairly certain her eyes bugged out of her head. She’d never seen a more perfect man’s body. Jake wasn’t built like a bodybuilder with bulging, overly exaggerated muscles and arms that couldn’t touch his sides because they were so freakishly huge. Instead, he was all reined-in power and sculpted, lean muscle honed from a physically demanding profession and hard work. And the way he filled out those sweats…
Her jaw dropped on an inhale. For the life of her, she couldn’t seem to shut it, so she nonchalantly covered it with her hand—because randomly slapping a hand over your mouth was something everyone did. She cringed internally, praying she hadn’t drooled on her shirt.
Tearing her eyes away from the promised land, she forced herself to look up... right into Jake’s glacially bright, blue eyes. She immediately dropped her hand when his lips twitched.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He rubbed the towel down his still damp chest to his waistband.
Laurel bit her lip—also nonchalantly, of course.
“Yesterday was laundry day,” he explained casually, as if he wasn’t incinerating her by his mere, half-dressed presence. “I may not be the best at emptying the dryer. Gotta grab a shirt.” He flashed a knowing grin. “Be right back.”
She nodded like a bobblehead before feasting on the dimples in his lower back as he turned and walked into the laundry room. She had a clear view because those sinful sweatpants were hanging low on his hips. So low, she could probably reveal what was behind door number one with a single tug.
Oh, my heck! What’s wrong with me?
She turned around and pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating like she’d chased six-year-olds around the playground for half an hour.
She wasn’t one to ogle men, and she didn’t sleep with guys on the first date—or one and a who-knows-what-it-was dates either. So, why was she tallying all the reasons she should sleep with Jake? And why couldn’t she stop?
The object of her obsession emerged from the laundry room. “Better?”
Laurel glanced over her shoulder. Jake was wearing a red T-shirt with the fire station insignia in white. His skin must’ve still been a little damp because the shirt clung to the hard planes of his chest.
No, not better.
“Mmhmm,” she hummed like her mouth was glued shut, not trusting herself to form words yet. At least her tongue wasn’t hanging out. “This is nice,” she said after an uncomfortable silence, gesturing to a framed photo on the mantel. When Jake raised a brow, she followed his gaze to find she was actually pointing at a dead plant.
Whelp.
She quickly grabbed the closest photo she could reach. “I meant this!”
The corner of his mouth tugged up.
Kill me now.
Laurel looked at the picture she was holding. It was a photo of Jake and his sister by the lake. Jessa was wearing a pretty blue sundress with white stars on it, and Jake was clad in red, white, and blue shorts and a matching short-sleeved, button-down shirt. His entire ensemble looked like the American flag had thrown up on it.
“I hope this was the Fourth of July,” she quipped, “otherwise we need to get you a stylist.”
She felt the heat from his body behind her before she heard the deep rumble of his laugh.
“What? You don’t think I look hot there?”
“You always look hot.”
Fudgesicles!
She was not supposed to have said that out loud!
He trailed his fingers along the back of her neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“I do, huh?” He nuzzled her hair with his cheek.
“Um…” She tried to gulp down the baseball sized lump in her throat. “I guess,” she croaked out.
He kissed the side of her neck. “You guess?”
“I mean, you’re…uh…” Why was her mouth so dry? She swallowed again and licked her lips. “Cute.”
“With really sexy eyes.”
“What?”
“At Hannah’s.” He turned her to face him. “You said I had really sexy eyes.”
He remembers what I said?
She looked up into his—yep, really sexy eyes—which, at the moment, made her feel like they were seeing right through her. Heat started creeping up her neck. “I—” She cleared her throat. “I did?”
Can I crawl into a hole and die now, please?
“You said I was, and I quote, ‘a really hot puppy with really sexy eyes’.”
Fudge! Did I say that?
Unfortunately, the ghost of a memory floating through her brain confirmed she had.
Deflect! Deflect!
“I don’t remember saying that,” she lied. “And why would I call you a puppy?” Now, that part she honestly didn’t remember.
Cranberries. What else had she said that she didn’t recall?
He threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and started stroking behind her ear with his thumb. Every pass of his skin set off little fireworks in her blood, sending heat sizzling through her veins.
What’s he doing to me?
“You thought I was too young for you,” he rasped in her ear before tracing it with his tongue.
Laurel drew a quick breath.
“Which is bullshit, by the way.” He tugged her earlobe with his teeth, then nibbled and licked his way along her jawline.
“Jake.” Why did she sound so breathless?
He slid his free hand underneath her sweatshirt and up her ribcage, stopping just below her breast.
“You were made for me to touch you.” The sexy timbre of his voice rippled along her nerve endings, making her shiver. When he caressed the underside of her breast, a low moan escaped her lips. “Do you want me to touch you, Laurel?”
Yes. Oh, yes!
“Tell me what you want, Princess.”
She couldn’t say the words. She wasn’t comfortable voicing her desires; never had been. She’d always been shy in the bedroom, but her already questionable self-confidence had taken a huge hit after Ethan’s betrayal. Even so, nothing sounded better than Jake touching her. She’d never wanted a man more in her life. So, instead of talking, she pressed her lips to his and moved his hand onto her breast.
Jake moaned this time. He deepened the kiss and brushed his thumb back and forth across her nipple before pinching softly.
That did it. She was officially melting… turning into magma under his touch. She whimpered and shamelessly arched against his hand as his fingers dipped underneath the material of her so-not-sexy cotton bra to tweak and knead her pebbled nipple between his fingers.
“Do you want more?” he asked, words laced with pained restraint. “Tell me you want more, Laurel, cuz I’m having a helluva time holding back here. You feel too fucking good.”
Her pulse hit light speed. She stuttered out a breath, then gasped one back in when his hand traveled down to her butt and pulled her against his hard length.
“Ja—”
“I want you,” he interrupted with a growl. “But I won’t take what’s not offered.” He grazed her neck with his teeth and rocked his hips.
“Oh, fudge.”
“Is that a yes, Princess?” He pressed his lips to her ear, hot breath teasing her senses when he asked, “Do you want me to fuck you?”
Triple brownie fudge!
None of the men she’d slept with had ever talked to her like that. And by “men,” she meant three. Three guys in thirty years, and aside from the fact they’d never talked dirty, not one of them had ever outright asked if she’d wanted to have sex. They’d just assumed. Convinced her she’d wanted the same thing as they did, and she’d gone along with it.
But, no one had asked. No one… until Jake.
He fisted her hair, tugged until her chin lifted, and covered her mouth with his own, scattering her thoughts like leaves in the wind. He tasted like temptation and promise, heat and surrender all at once.
She was practically ready to come, and he’d barely touched her. What kind of heights could he make her soar to if she gave permission? She couldn’t explain it—the control he had over her body. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before, and it both excited and scared the snickerdoodles out of her.
Maybe she should just let go. Maybe this one time, she should give in to her feelings and ignore her brain. Let Jake make her feel… everything. She couldn’t deny she wanted him. And she was a grown woman. She could sleep with the most perfect male specimen she’d ever laid eyes on if she wanted to.
She dug her nails into his arm, warring with herself as she walked the tightrope between what she’d always done in the past, and what she wanted right now. It was her choice. He’d told her as much. She had the power to accept or decline, and she somehow knew he wouldn’t argue or try to persuade her if she said no. The bad boy was more of a gentleman than all the others combined.
What am I waiting for?
She instinctively pressed against him, coaxing a growl from deep in his throat.
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he breathed against her lips. He cupped her cheek with his large hand and pulled back to search her eyes. “Tell me you want this.”
She did. Lord help her, she did.
“If you don’t, you need to tell me. Now. Cuz I’m about two seconds from pushing you against that wall and fucking you right here.”
The image set fire to her panties. He was seducing her with his words and doing a bang-up job at it.
Bang up.
He wants to bang me against the wall.
Her core tingled and clenched at the thought. Who knew dirty talk would turn her on?
She felt his erection pressing against her abdomen, mainlining white-hot need into her veins, commanding her to tug down the neck of his T-shirt. She placed a kiss below his collar bone, allowing her tongue to peek out for a taste.
“Fuck.” His grip tightened in her hair, and his fingers dug into her butt, yet he was still holding himself back. Waiting for permission. Letting her decide.
Something inside her turned the lock. It opened the door, and let out the uncertainty, granting her the ability to choose.
Yes. She chose yes.
Biting her lip, she nodded.
“Say it, Princess,” Jake commanded in a rough voice. “Out loud. If you want this—want me—say yes.”
“Ye—”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Get a room!”