Chapter 13
INDY WRUNG HER FINGERS TOGETHER, PACING THE UPSTAIRS hallway of Alex’s home. She’d ducked out of Jasmine’s match early. Despite what Penny had said about needing to show unity, she hadn’t shown up before Indy’d had enough and left.
Besides, Jasmine and Natalie had it under control. Indy’s presence had nothing to do with it. Jasmine wasn’t going to miss her, that was for sure.
Her former partner had barely spoken a word to her since she’d broken the news but still insisted to everyone else that she wasn’t angry.
Penny had found the perfect solution for Jasmine’s doubles partner shortage, but if anything, that made it worse, the tennis world speculating about why they’d split up so quickly.
Indy just wanted to get away from it all, but now, back in the relative privacy of Alex’s house—nearly everyone else, though not the man himself, still at the All England Club—the only thing she could think about was tiptoeing into Jack’s room, joining him in bed, and just…
she didn’t know what. Her mind sped from curling up in a ball next to him and falling asleep to every other far-less-innocent option under the sun.
They hadn’t had a real chance to be alone in nearly a week, and it was wearing on her.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d come to depend on their stolen moments together in France, then in Bari and back at OBX.
Finally pushing down the butterflies in her stomach, she took a deep breath and opened his door.
There was nothing to be nervous about. Not really.
The room was still dark, curtains drawn closed.
Teddy’s bed was empty, rumpled and slept in, the dark comforter in a lump at the center of the mattress.
Jack was on his stomach in his bed, the covers shoved down at his waist, the muscles in his back rippling as he shifted in his sleep.
One arm was up under his pillow, holding on to it for dear life, the other tossed carelessly out to the side.
He’d been up all night negotiating with some people from Los Angeles for one of Penny’s brand deals and had told everyone his plan was to sleep in.
Indy slipped off her shoes and then her socks, kneeling gingerly on the mattress, trying not to disturb him at first. She lifted a leg over his body, settling herself slowly onto his upper thighs.
He grunted but didn’t stir. Slowly, she slid her hands up over his back, then brought them down, letting her nails scratch lightly on his skin.
Again, she repeated the motion with a little more pressure, before kneading the palms of her hands against his shoulders, massaging the muscles.
He tensed beneath her and then, with a groan, relaxed into her touch.
“Fuck yes,” he mumbled into the pillow, and then groaned again when she hit a particularly tense spot, the sound sending a responding jolt through her. “Jesus, you’ve got strong hands.”
“Just what every girl wants to hear. Such a sweet talker, Jack,” she said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade.
He pushed up off the mattress and she moved up onto her knees to give him room to turn onto his back. Settling beneath her, he took her hips in his hands and drew her to him. “You want sweet talk?”
“Mmmm,” she said with a roll, feeling him already hard against her, but his hands, tightening against her waist, stopped the motion. Then, before she could respond, he’d turned them over, pressing her full body into the mattress.
“No, I don’t think you do,” he muttered. “Sweet talk isn’t what does it for you, Indiana.”
Indy raised her eyebrows. Where was he going with this? “No?”
“Nope,” he said, leaning over and putting his mouth, hot and open, against that spot just below her ear. “You see, I’ve noticed something.”
“What’s that?” she breathed, her body arching into his; but he held her down.
“I’ve noticed that you like when I kiss you here,” he said, brushing his lips against her skin, “but you love it when I…” He trailed off, scraping his teeth along the same spot, making her whole body arch against him.
“And,” he began again, “I’ve noticed that you like my hands in your hair.
” He cupped the back of her head, freeing her ponytail.
“But you love it when…” He trailed off again, tugging sharply at the locks of hair in his fist. Indy groaned and threw her head back at the sensation.
“So, no, Indiana, I don’t think you want sweet talk.
In fact, I’m pretty sure you want the opposite. ”
How had he known that about her? She hadn’t even known it herself, not really.
She’d had a few boyfriends, but none of them had made her feel like this and most of the physical stuff had consisted of heavy, unpracticed hands groping at her and a couple of incredibly short and unsatisfying hookups that had left her wondering what all the fuss was about.
This was different.
Every touch was purposeful, every little bit of contact, soft or not, meant to bring her pleasure. Her mind reeled when his mouth collided with hers, his tongue pushing past her lips. It was a little sloppy and pretty damn rough.
And she loved it.
“Am I right?” he asked, tearing himself away and grinning down at her.
Getting a little revenge, she sifted her hand through his hair, digging her nails into his scalp and pulling him back down. His hips thrust against her and his eyes slipped shut.
“Seems like you’re not one for sweet either,” she mumbled against his mouth.
“Never said I was. Why do you think I want you? Wild’s more my style. Always has been.”
He dragged his mouth away from hers, trailing a path over her jawline and down to her neck, using his teeth again, this time against her pulse point.
Indy pushed up against him, bringing her legs around his waist, pulling him in as close as she could.
His hands slid along her sides, pushing the material of her T-shirt out of the way.
Her hands twisted into the elastic of the boxer briefs he slept in, before a wicked thought flashed through her head.
She pulled the elastic away and then let it snap back into place with a satisfying thwack against his hip.
Jack chuckled, a deep, husky sound from the back of his throat. “You learn fast.”
“Good teacher,” she said, sitting up and letting him drag her shirt over her head, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders, so long that it covered most of the skin he’d just revealed.
He tossed the piece of cotton away, and his hands cupped her face, suddenly gentle where they’d been playing rough just moments before.
“You know how beautiful you are?” he whispered, leaning in slowly and sealing his lips over hers, not giving her time to answer.
The kiss was gentle, too. No tongues and teeth, just their mouths pressing together.
Indy pulled away, eyes closed, breath ragged, holding on to both his wrists like they were keeping her afloat. “Jack, I…”
“Hey, Jack, do you want to grab some breakfast with me and Pen?”
Indy froze, knowing that voice immediately. Alex Russell, with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning on the open doorframe, the door she’d left ajar.
Shit.
He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, a wrinkled T-shirt and basketball shorts slung low and hair in complete disarray, but his eyes were sharp enough.
“Alex, is he awake?” another voice called from the hallway.
“Shit,” Indy breathed, her forehead slamming against Jack’s shoulder as she struggled to get up. But she was too late. Penny appeared in the doorway a second later.
“What are you—” Penny’s words died as she took in the scene. Indy, shirtless, in her brother’s bed.
“Oh my God,” Penny said.
“Pen,” Jack started, scrambling off Indy. “Let us explain.”
“No,” Indy said. “This is me.”
But Penny’s mouth was pressed in a firm, thin line, her face blank of any emotion at all.
Oh, this was worse than Indy thought it would be.
Fuck. They should have just told her.
“Come on, love, let’s let them get dressed.” Alex turned Penny away, and Indy heard their footsteps headed down the stairs.
Indy slid out of bed and found her shirt where Jack had tossed it close to the doorway.
“Let me talk to my sister,” Jack said, finding some cargo shorts and a T-shirt in his suitcase.
“You’re her brother, Jack. She’s not mad at you. She’s mad at me.”
“We don’t know that she’s mad at all,” he said, but Indy spun and stared at him. “Okay, she’s mad, but only because we didn’t tell her, and we agreed we’d tell her here…”
“And we didn’t,” Indy said. “Trust me. This is a girl thing. Let me talk to her.”
Indy found Penny downstairs in the kitchen, cutting up some fruit. Indy hadn’t pegged her for dramatic, but judging by the size of the knife she was using to chop strawberries, she was trying to make a point.
Indy sat down on one of the cushioned stools at the island and waited. Penny just kept on chopping until a small bowl was full. Then she set the knife down on the island and looked up at Indy.
“How long?”
“Since we—”
Penny cut her off. “No. I mean how long since you realized you liked my brother and you decided not to tell me?”
“I didn’t decide not to tell you, exactly,” Indy said, but Penny sniffed in disbelief.
“Really. I mean, at first, I didn’t think anything was going to happen, like I didn’t have a chance in hell, so I didn’t think there was a point in telling you.
And then I realized it was mutual, but he was incredibly against us actually doing anything, so it just wasn’t going to happen. ”
“Clearly it did.”
Indy nodded.
“And when it did, you just thought, I think I’ll keep this from my friend. She wouldn’t want to know I was fucking her brother.”
“We haven’t—”
“You know what I mean.”
“There wasn’t any time. It happened in France and you were dealing with your ankle, and then you were in London and we were back home, and we wanted to tell you in person.”
“And once you got here, what? You changed your mind?”