Page 17 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

JACKSONVILLE

a deal with the devil bull rider

“Pick me.”

“I’ve wanted you since I first laid my eyes on you.”

“My room number. In case you’re interested.”

I’m pacing in my room, his words echoing through my mind on an endless loop. The taste of his lips on mine, the feel of his rough hands gripping my thighs, his silky strands caught between my fingers.

Get it together, Faith.

I can’t go there, I just can’t. He’s cocky and arrogant and—except he really isn’t.

He’s proved that a lot as of late. Jesse is just as insecure and self-conscious as the rest of us.

Sure, he has his moments, but from the few times he’s opened up to me, it’s clearly all an act.

One that he’s been playing and portraying for so long, it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s not.

“You don’t want to sleep with someone who sleeps around,” I whisper to myself.

Except he’s not doing that anymore. He said it himself that his PR team was breathing down his neck and made him choose: one woman or no women.

And to my surprise, he chose no women at all.

So obviously he’s not sleeping around anymore.

But if we were to do this, if I were to sleep with him exclusively, it’d have to be over after the championships.

This is not something I could continue in good conscience come the middle of May.

But if he’s willing to agree to that, if he’s okay keeping it a secret…

No. No, Faith, you can’t.

Heading into the bathroom, I hastily brush my teeth before changing into my silk pajamas, shorts and a tank top—yes, it’s February, but it’s Jacksonville and I’m inside—and choosing against washing my face so I can climb straight into bed.

Lights off, television on with the volume low, my phone turned face down on the nightstand so I can’t look at it.

The time, more like. I stare at the ceiling, my body lit like a live wire, my mind playing his words and our moment in the alleyway over, and over, and over again.

“Okay,” I whisper to myself, or into the empty room, I suppose.

“He annoys the hell out of you. He makes fun of your business professional attire, he continues to call you a nickname you hate, even though you’ve asked him not to, and he can be self-centered.

You don’t want to get intimate with someone like that. ”

Yeah, I’m not a good liar.

Flipping the covers off, I walk to the chair in the corner of the room and grab my black silk robe, tying it tightly around myself as I slip my feet into my plush white slippers.

Grabbing my room key off the dresser, I don’t bother looking back as I rush toward the elevators.

Hitting the up button, I tap my foot impatiently as I wait for the doors to open.

The ride up is short since he’s only one floor above mine, and I hastily scan to my left and right before taking off down the hallway to my left.

Eight doors down, I come to a screeching halt, those numbers stopping me as my hand is raised, poised and ready to knock.

Room 412.

I’m about to lower my hand, to disappear down the hall, and go back the way I came.

To lock myself in my room and attempt to forget anything ever happened.

This was a mistake , I think to myself. But I don’t get to run like I want to because the door flies open, revealing Jesse.

But not just Jesse, no. Jesse topless, hair damp, wearing sweatpants that hang low on his hips. Grey sweatpants.

Lord, have mercy.

Before I can react, he’s grabbing my wrist, pulling me into his room. He closes the door behind him, turns us so my back is against the wall, and crashes his lips to mine. It takes my brain a split second to catch up with what is happening, but once it does? I’m reacting without thought.

My hands instantly wind around his neck, slipping up into his hair and gripping it tightly between my fingers, which causes a groan to escape Jesse’s throat and vibrate against my lips.

He hastily strips off my robe, letting it fall to the floor at my feet.

His calloused fingers dig into the skin at my hips, pinning me firmly so there’s nowhere for me to go.

As if I’d ever want to walk away from this.

He angles his head to get better access, slipping his tongue into my mouth and drawing a moan of my own from somewhere deep inside me.

His hands run over the curve of my bottom before he’s hoisting me up, my legs wrapping around his sturdy frame without a second thought.

He spins us around and begins walking toward the bed, and he wastes no time as he tosses me down, my body bouncing slightly as a surprised laugh escapes me.

Jesse gives me a stunning smile before he climbs on top of me, keeping his body weight off mine with his hands braced on either side of my head.

His lips find mine again, a punishing yet sweet kiss before he breaks away and starts to kiss down the side of my neck.

I moan once he finds that sweet spot, my entire body growing even hotter than it was before, when my brain clears for a brief moment.

“Exclusive,” I mumble, unable to form a complete sentence as he slides his hand up under my top. “Just me.”

“Just you,” he whispers against my ear before lightly taking my lobe between his teeth. “No one else.”

I arch into his touch, his words giving me a sense of resolution as I tell him, “Just between us.”

“Of course, Sweetheart,” he breathes, giving me a quick peck before moving to kiss the other side of my neck. “I don’t like to share.”

“No.” I grab his face between my hands and force him to look at me. “No one else can know about this.”

He stares at me, his eyes darting between my own with an unreadable expression on his face. Instead of responding, he dips his head and captures my lips, nipping my bottom one before plunging his tongue inside. My hands grip his hair once more, taking this kiss as his answer. His agreement.

And I don’t give him the opportunity to change his mind.

Jesse pushes his hips into mine, his hard length pressing against my core.

I wrap my legs around him and his arms buckle, landing on his elbows as he continues to kiss me thoroughly—like I’m the only one who can give him oxygen.

I remove my hands from his hair and trail them down his shoulders, groaning into his mouth when his hand cups my breast and his fingers tweak my nipple.

I arch into the touch, needing more, desperate to feel more than just his hands on me.

But I want to be the one to give first.

I push his shoulder and use my legs to rotate us, flipping us around so he’s on his back and I’m straddling his waist. Pulling back, I look down at him as he stares up at me, a heated and wanting look in his eyes. He lifts a hand, cupping my cheek, before he pushes some hair behind my ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, gazing at me with something more than just lust. Infatuation, maybe—which is not what I’m here for.

Reconnecting our lips, his hands bury into my hair as mine rest on the mattress just above his shoulders.

His tongue slips into my mouth, intertwining with my own as I fight for the upper hand.

This is my moment. Mine to take control of, mine to lead, mine to do what I want.

I might have come here with the idea of being dominated, of someone bringing me to the brink, but suddenly, I want nothing more than to be in charge.

I pull back and kiss his neck, then the column of his throat, earning me a soft moan that vibrates against my lips.

I’m kissing down his chest, sliding down him as I graze my lips down his abs, before stopping at his waistband.

My fingers hook into his sweatpants and boxers, urging them down his legs.

Once his length springs free and his pants are discarded on the floor, I risk a glance up to see him studying me. Watching. Waiting for my next move.

Settling between his legs, I cast him one last glance before I slowly wrap my hand around his cock.

The breath he exhales is shaky, his eyes drifting shut briefly before he forces them open to look down at me, not wanting to miss a second.

My hand moves up his length, my thumb gliding over his tip and moving his precum around his head.

I feel him tense underneath me, and I can’t help but smile in triumph at the effect I seem to have on him with such a small and easy motion.

I wonder what other reactions I can get out of him.

As slowly as I can, I swirl my tongue along the tip of him before I close my lips over his head, and his hips jerk involuntarily as a deep moan slips past his lips.

I take him into my mouth as far as I can before he hits the back of my throat, my hand gripping his base.

When I pull back, I twist my hand, and he breathes my name in response.

Working my mouth and hand in tandem, I bob up and down the length of him, gagging slightly when I take him in too far.

My tongue runs along his underside, and my free hand slips between his legs and begins to play with his balls.

Jesse’s hands find their way into my hair as I pick up my pace, keeping it out of my face as he stares down at me.

When my tongue twirls around his head once more, he hisses, his grip tightening in my hair, so I do it again.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he moans, his eyes falling shut and head landing on the pillow. “That feels so fucking good.”

I hum in response, and his breath stutters.

I don’t let up, keeping my tempo, not caring that my saliva is starting to cover my hand.

The sound echoing throughout the room is sinful, causing the heat pooling between my legs to intensify.

Jesse’s hands fist in my hair, beginning to move my head in the tempo he pleases.