Chapter 18
18
Jake
If blue balls were a real diagnosis, I’m pretty sure I’d be in treatment for it by the time I roll up to Kit’s place the next evening. It’s only been two days since I lost it and took her behind the bar, but, given that I think about it every second of every day, I don’t know how I’ve survived without rubbing one out at all.
It’s probably just the blue balls talking, but I almost lost it when she gave me a literal fuck schedule.
Pretty sure she’d hate it that I think of what we do as fucking and not, say, fertilizing or donating a sample or whatever, but as I’ve made very clear, this isn’t about that for me. It’s about sex, plain and simple. Scratching an itch that’s too persistent to get rid of.
The problem with some itches, though, is that they only get worse the more you scratch. I had chicken pox as a kid and I remember that first hit of nail to skin was absolute bliss. Until I scratched myself raw and my whole body was covered with the damn things.
That’s what this is like…except sexy.
Now that I’ve heard those little gasping noises she makes and felt her come around my cock, I want her more than ever. Exponentially.
There’s also a very good chance that all the withholding she’s done has only made it worse. Who doesn’t crave forbidden fruit?
The only solution at this point is to get her out of my system.
I’ve got less than three weeks left to do it before I move on.
The stone walkway up to her little house is overgrown with weeds and grass. The roof looks like shit. I don’t imagine she’s got a whole lot of time to take care of anything but the restaurant. The house itself is cute. A pale yellow bungalow with dark shutters, their paint peeling so bad it’s hard to tell if they’re meant to be brown or grey. I’d probably throw a coat of black up there and on the door to make the whole place just a little sharper.
Not that she’s asked for my opinion. Nor is she likely to. Katarina Esteban is a woman who knows her own mind. She’s got boundaries—and rules—for days.
I head up the steps, bottle in hand, lift the knocker, and barely have time to drop it when she’s there, opening the door.
My lungs empty. Christ, I thought she was gorgeous at work, all done up, her face put on, in those tight-waisted dresses or jeans that hug her curves, but this look? The soft, no makeup, loose top, comfortable pants look? She’s a dream.
“Hey,” she says, a shy half-smile on pink lips I’ve only ever seen in bright red.
Cute is the only word I can think of and I know for a fact she’d hate it.
“Howdy.” I hold up the bottle. “Figured this couldn’t hurt.” In my pocket, I’ve got lubrication of a different sort. Just in case.
“Oh. Yeah. Right. Thanks.” She steps back without taking the bottle off me. “Come in.”
I walk in and look around while she closes the door.
“Um, so, that’s funny, because this is for you.” There’s a shallow silver tin sitting in the palm of the hand she’s holding out.
I stare at it for a second before picking it up. “What’s this?”
“It’s for your, um…” She points at the bruise on my face. “Your bruise and knuckles.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“It’s some salve I whipped up. My grandmother used to make it and I figured…it helps. It really does.”
I nod. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Here, let me…” She takes the tin and unscrews it. Rubs her finger over the top of what looks like honey or a creamy, hard wax. “Oh.” She pauses, up on tiptoes, her finger right next to the cut on my face. “You mind?”
Out of words, I shake my head.
She pats the stuff on with a touch so delicate, I barely feel it.
“Smells good.”
“It’s lavender and calendula and aloe and a few other things.” She takes the bottle I’ve brought and sets it on a coffee table, then awkwardly looks at me. “Could I…your hands?”
I put them both out, an almost familiar tightness back in my chest again, and watch her face while she dabs it on my messed up knuckles, so fucking gentle, it hurts everywhere but where’s she’s touched.
“There.” She shuts it and holds it out, all business now. “Booboo balm’ll make you better in no time.”
“Booboo balm?” I laugh.
“Yes. What? That’s what Grandma Esteban called it. It’s great for skinned knees and…” She motions vaguely at my hands. “Other stuff.”
“Thank you.”
Clearly embarrassed, she turns and sees the champagne bottle, picks it up, reads it. “Wow. You got the real stuff.” She looks up from the label. “You didn’t have to.”
“You don’t think so?”
“You know what I mean.” Her smirk’s got that sharp edge I can’t get enough of. “Like you said before, I’m a foregone conclusion.”
“I’d never really assume that.”
“All right. Well, good, because, um…” She stands there, looking smaller than I’m used to, paler, too, with an awkward edge that makes me want to, hell, build her a nest or some weird shit, wrap my arms around her and hide her from all the crap the world can throw at her. “Actually, I, um…”
I go still, watching her.
“I think we should call today off.”
I can’t think of a polite response.
“You know, it’s just…my house isn’t the right place and, I don’t feel… I guess I mean…” The sentence fizzles off into a frustrated exhale.
I grab the champagne she’s currently waving around in agitation. “How about we crack this open?”
She pauses, blinks down at the bottle we’re now both holding, and nods, quick and tense. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” She looks at my face, takes in my smirk and rolls her eyes. “Stop it, okay?”
“All right.”
“This is hard. I don’t know how to?—”
“Doesn’t have to be hard, Kit.”
“Sure. Whatever.”
“You nervous?”
“What do you think?”
Pretty sure she’s jumping out of her skin almost worse than the first time, although I know better than to point that out. Instead, I follow the urge telling me to step into her space and use my bulk to edge her up against what’s probably a closet. I relinquish my hold on the bottle and plant my hands on the door, boxing her in. “I think you need to come. Quick and hard. That’ll relax you right up.”
“Already tried that.”
My brows lift and my cock gets heavy and thick. “And?”
“I was close, but…”
I lean in and inhale the warm woman scent of her. “Wasn’t enough.”
“Look, Jake, this isn’t what we’re doing.”
“What isn’t?”
“Seduction. It’s not the point.”
“I know that, Kit.”
“Then why are you bothering?”
“If giving you an orgasm helps get you to your goal?—”
“Not to mention yours.” The words are a quick, sarcastic reminder that she’s not usually this hesitant. Kit Esteban’s a boss, with guts for miles and a brain that’s razor sharp. I’ll bet she’s used to doing the pursuing. Yeah. That makes sense. But some instinct keeps telling me she wants this—to be cornered, chased down, taken. Hell, what happened behind the bar just proved me right.
I smirk. “Making you come will definitely get me closer to my goal.”
“This wasn’t the deal.” Her eyes are huge, pupils blown wide. Her chest moves up and down like she’s run a race and that image—her running, me going after her—lodges in my mind like a splinter I can’t get rid of.
“Deals change.” I get closer, hem her in tighter and, in response, her eyes drop to my mouth.
Fuck, she wants it. She wants the dirty, animal sex I picture every time I look at her face, her throat, her ass. She just doesn’t want to want it.
“Why are you doing this?”
I could lie and tell her I’m just a good guy and all I care about is giving her the baby she wants so desperately, but I’ve never been one to take the easy road. Also, I’ve never lied my way into a woman’s pants and don’t plan to start now.
“I’m doing it, Katarina, because when I get in bed now and close my eyes, instead of a good night’s sleep, I toss and turn thinking about how your pretty face must look while you come on my cock. But I got one big problem.”
“Wh-what?” She’s panting, cheeks rosy, her bottom lip shiny right where her tongue just slid.
“I need something to work with.” I move in, run my nose over the soft skin of her cheek, her ear. Is there a rule about touching her with my nose? Didn’t see one. “See, when it comes to you, my imagination’s got nothing on the real thing.”
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“Remember when I fucked you?” I whisper, a secret just for us. “That first time, in the hotel?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she nods, barely.
“You felt so damn good, Kit. Better than any…” I’m about to say woman, but the truth slides out instead. “Anything.”
Her exhalation is a harsh sigh that presses her chest almost to mine.
“Figured that was it. One and done, right? But then we did it again, you and I.” I huff out a laugh that’s zero humor and more than a little resentment. “See, you keep giving me that sweet pussy and not letting me see your face and, Christ, Katarina, what am I supposed to do with a challenge like that? Back off? Turn around? Walk away without getting a taste of that holy grail?”
“Oh, come on, you can’t truly?—”
“I can. I do. See, you let me in there and you showed me what I was missing and now I want it all. Every piece of it. I want to see you, hear you, taste you. You ever think about that? My mouth on you? My tongue in that hot little cunt? I have. Over and over again.”
“This…this wasn’t supposed to be that.”
“Right.” I nod, frustration making me feel like a teenager again. A kid without skills or language. With just his hands and his body and a desire to punch through anything that got it his way. “Christ, Kit, why the hell don’t you want to feel good, huh?”
Her mouth drops open, like she’s about to reply, and then goes still, blinking. It’s fascinating to watch her expression morph from initial shock, through realization, to annoyance and then—God, she’s gorgeous—a decisive certainty.
When she looks up and meets my gaze now, her chin’s jutting out at a stubborn angle. “Fine, you can make me come,” she says, like she’s the one doing me a favor. I fucking love it. “Just…make it quick.”
I can’t help but grin as I shift my weight onto one arm and make a show of stretching out my fingers, one at a time.
She rolls her eyes, but I don’t give a shit. Because this is so much better than doing her in the dark. And she hasn’t brought her annoying rules up once.
Course I’m the one who has to go in and do it, I guess, because I open my mouth and say, “What rule are we breaking now?”
“I don’t…I don’t know.”
“Touching. That the rule?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll just use one hand. How’s that sound?”
“Fine. Good.”
“Yeah. Now, open your legs for me, Kit.” I put my face close again and whisper, “Let me get this little pussy ready for its breeding.”