Page 10

10

SEX LOTTERY

Emma

“ S tay,” he insists like a crazy man. “Spend the night. You’ll be closer in the morning and can leave from here.”

I level my stare on him as I hoist the camera bag up my shoulder. “Our one night was off-the-charts amazing, but I do have a certain level of decorum to keep at work. I can’t walk into a meeting with my boss looking well sexed and wearing clothes from the night before.”

“It’s late,” he argues. “Too late for you to drive back out to the country.”

“You didn’t give a shit about Brett when you sent him off into the dark night.”

“Brett can take care of himself. He’s not a beautiful woman who I give a shit about.”

I hitch a foot and remind him of why we’re here right now. “Excuse me, but I’m not the one who got roofied. And have you forgotten that I’ve lived all over the country in the last few years and fared just fine on my own coming and going at all hours of the day? I do not need a man telling me when I should and should not be driving in the dark.”

His expression screws up into a wince. “Okay. You’ve got a point. But I’ll bet my retirement fund that won’t happen again to Brett. Work with me here, Em. I’m being possessive and protective. Women love that.”

I glare at him. “You’re telling me what to do when I’m smart enough to take care of myself. Women do not love that.”

He pauses before taking a step and eats up what little empty space there is between us. I don’t move when he frames my face in the same hands that are familiar with every part of my body. His thumb is firm when he drags it over my bottom lip, never taking his eyes off his movements.

When his gaze finds my eyes, his voice is low and meaningful. Nothing like the Jack Hale he’s been since we woke up together on the other side of the country earlier today.

Damn. That was actually today. I’m tired.

“Emma.” My name is a hushed breath. “The thought of you leaving me and driving off into the night makes me crazy because I give a shit about you, but I’m also desperate for you to stay. When it comes down to it, I’m just desperate to be with you. Please stay.”

My shoulders slump, and I feel what little energy I have left drain from my body. “Do you see how that’s so much nicer than telling me what to do?”

A slow, small smile spreads across his full lips. It doesn’t quite touch his eyes when he nods. “Bare my soul and fall at your feet … that’s your love language. Now I know. I wouldn’t do that for just anyone, but I will for you.”

I pull in a deep breath. “Actually, sleep is my love language. It’s been a long day.”

His soft smile dissolves. He hikes a brow as his hold on my face becomes firm. “May I remind you of the cross-country nap you took spread across two first-class seats while reclined all over me? If anyone should be tired, it’s me.”

I don’t move from his hold, but I do let the camera bag slip down my arm and set it gently on the floor. “Emotionally, Jack. I’m emotionally exhausted.”

His hands slip from my face to my shoulders where he drags my coat down my arms and lets it fall to the floor. “All the more reason to stay. Let me fill your emotional coffers … while I fill you.”

I shake my head. “No one has ever given me whiplash by being an asshole and sweet at the same time. Pick a Jack. I need to know which one I’m dealing with.”

His hands come back to my face. Without another word, he pulls me to him with such force, I stumble into his wide, muscled chest when our lips meet for a searing kiss. It’s not like the one on the plane this morning. It’s like the one that happened the moment we stumbled into his suite last night when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

I feel the desperation he just admitted to.

And it feels good.

So good, I push aside all thoughts of how I’m going to get ready for work tomorrow and what I’ll wear so I don’t show up in the same clothes I interviewed Brett Sullivan in.

When Jack drags a hand down my back and lands on my ass for a firm and delicious grope, I decide getting ready for work is a tomorrow problem, definitely not a tonight problem.

The hand on my face slides into my hair and pulls at the roots to break our kiss. Then Jack Hale surprises me and proves me wrong.

I might actually have multiple love languages, because when his possessive side surfaces again, I feel it in places where love languages are not spoken.

Like, in my wet panties.

“Stay,” he demands again, but this time it’s different. “I want you here in my house—in my bed. I don’t want you in some hotel room that screams one-night stand. I want to smell you on my sheets to remind me of how fucking lucky I am that the universe did me a solid for once and put me in a position to beg you for one more day. I don’t have a crystal ball, but I really fucking like having you here. Tomorrow, I’ll beg for another day. From there, we’ll see how Wednesday goes.”

I let my weight sink into him farther.

“Give me one more day,” he echoes his own words. They’re rough and demanding and fierce.

And, yes, they’re even desperate.

I pull in a breath. “Is there a Target close by?”

He frowns. “Why?”

“If I stay, I’m going to have to go shopping before work for a new outfit. You’re just lucky I work in TV and don’t go anywhere without a full makeup spread for touch up.”

His gaze studies every feature of my face. “As if you need any.”

“The camera washes you out. I need makeup.”

His eyes settle back on mine. “I’ll buy you enough clothes for the next month if you stay.”

“I really like clothes. I might take you up on that.”

“I dare you,” he goes on. “But it won’t be at Target.”

“I love Target. And I’m on a Target budget and it will be the only thing open before my meeting.”

“Fair enough. As long as you stay, but I’m buying.”

I can’t keep the smile off my face. “I will have to text my dad. Should I tell him I’m staying with you?”

Jack’s hold on me intensifies. “If you think that’s a good idea.”

My smile widens. “I think we’ve had enough drama to deal with today. I might not be in high school anymore, but I’m not sure that’s the best idea. I’ll tell him I’m crashing at a friend’s place to save myself the drive.”

“I’ll take it,” he mutters before taking my mouth again. He lets go of me, claims my hand, and pulls me toward the stairs to a level of his house I haven’t seen yet. His place is gorgeous and looks like a magazine rather than a bachelor pad. This is a different side of Jack than I’ve ever known. He’s just as confident and charismatic as he always was, but this polished side of him is new. “I’ll take anything as long as you stay. Not that I’m afraid of your dad.”

I follow him up the narrow stairway to the top floor. Anticipation swirls inside me even though I’ve already been with Jack.

Vegas was Vegas.

It felt right, so I went with it. Even if I thought it would be one night.

I knew I’d see him eventually since I was back in the District. Maybe at Levi and Carissa’s for a cookout or birthday party. I assumed Jack and I would always share one secret night together. A secret to celebrate his big win for a superstar client and my once in a lifetime career-changing experience.

Icing on the cake.

The proverbial cherry.

I did not expect to be in Jack’s home, seduced by his beautiful blue eyes, or being led to his bedroom for a second night together.

I haven’t been in any type of relationship for a long time. There’s been no time. I knew my last few jobs weren’t long term. There was no reason to invest time in anything just to complicate moving on.

I have goals, dammit, and they’re important.

But I’m back in D.C., a goal I reached faster than I ever thought I would. I’m home where I wanted to be. Jack Hale might’ve been my first kiss and a soul-wrenching crush in high school, but he was never a goal.

He would’ve been a pipe dream—even for me.

We hit the top floor, and he leads me around the corner to a large room for this size of home. The walls are bright white and trimmed in wainscoting from floor to ceiling. Double doors lead to a bathroom, but other than that, there’s nothing else on this floor.

Everything is new, shiny, and as perfect as the rest of the house.

Just like the new Jack.

I wouldn’t say he’s improved. I was obsessed with the younger Jack back in the day. As shiny as the new version of this man is from the man-boy I remember, I see hints of him. And I didn’t think he needed to be improved, but here we are.

The best of both worlds.

He comes to a stop at the foot of his bed and pulls me to him. But he doesn’t claim my face or take my mouth like he did downstairs. He goes straight for my sweater.

I’ve never been happier to cooperate.

I lift my arms for him to rip it over my head and toss it behind me as he talks. “What you did for Brett tonight means a lot to me.”

Standing here in my bra and slacks, I toe my loafers off and kick them to the side. “Brett seems nice, but I didn’t do it for him.”

Jack proves he can multitask and starts to work my belt as he keeps talking. “This will be good for your career. As long as this nightmare continues, and after, I’ll make sure you have first access to him.”

He rips my belt from the loops and tosses it behind him this time.

My fingers go to his shirt.

“I appreciate that,” I say as he works the clasp on my slacks, and I claw at his buttons to get to his smooth, chiseled chest. “But I didn’t do it for me either. I landed a job at WDCN. I work hard—I’m proud of where I’m at.”

The zipper on my slacks slides south. Before I know it, I’m standing before him in nothing but my bra, panties, and bared soul.

“Must I teach you everything, Emma?” he teases. “The sports industry is tough. Sports broadcasting is an extension of it. I’ve been around long enough to know everyone in your industry wants the sports gig. You’re not battling hurricanes, reporting on drive-bys in the middle of the night, or fighting your way through a damn political rally. You have to make your move and take advantage when the opportunity arises.”

I push his shirt wide and watch my fingers trail over his pecs, rippled abs, and down to the smattering of hair that sits above his waistline.

“Emma,” he calls for me and claims my chin to force my gaze to meet his. “You okay?”

I don’t answer that question, but I do tell him the truth. “I did it for you.”

He freezes.

My insides tense at the expression that settles in his features.

“I mean, you own your own business. It’s not like you roofied your client. None of this is your fault. And I might not know what a touchback is, but I do know that if Brett Sullivan goes down for this, it can’t be good for you.” I glance around the immaculate bedroom and wave my hand at the opulence surrounding us. “Everyone knows how expensive it is to live in Old Town, and this place is amazing. It’s easy to see you’ve worked hard. If I can help, I want to.”

His hands drop to my ass and squeeze where he pulls me flush to him, but he says nothing.

“It’s not because of the sex,” I blurt, desperate to fill the dead, stifling silence that fills the perfect room.

It is perfect. The bed isn’t just made, but the pillows are perfectly placed. They’ve even been karate chopped.

The image of Jack fluffing pillows does not reconcile in my head, but the proof sits before me in fine linens and Egyptian cotton. It has to be. It looks that lush.

The intensity dissolves and his blue eyes might as well sparkle with a touch of humor. “Damn, Emma. I must have misread the vibes. Are you telling me the sex wasn’t good?”

My hands tense where they’ve worked their way to his lats. “No! I mean, yes. It was good. But that’s not?—”

I yelp when my body defies gravity.

His hold on my ass tightens as he lifts me from the floor. I’m forced to hang on for fear of falling.

I shouldn’t have worried.

My back hits his perfectly made bed and he comes down with me. His bare chest is pressed to mine as his forearm rests on the fluffy duvet the color of sand.

I was right about the Egyptian cotton. It’s so soft on my bare skin, I might move into Jack’s bed and never leave. It’s big, and I sleep like the dead. Once I settle, I hardly move for the night. Heck, I slept just fine on a lumpy twin mattress in the studio above Mr. Coolidge’s diner.

Jack won’t notice me.

His bright blue eyes shine through the dimmed space. “Don’t throw hate like that at me and expect it not to be a challenge.”

My fingertips grip his wide shoulders. “I hardly threw hate at you. I would never.”

His hand drags down my body until it lands on my hip at the thin string of my thong. I hate these panties, they cut into my skin.

But they look damn good on me. The smart, rational part of me did not come here tonight planning for more sex.

But the other part of me, the part who still feels where Jack fucked me last night and likes it, wanted to look good in my panties just in case.

“I told you I did this interview with Brett for you and the sex was good. How is that throwing hate?”

“Because I give better than just good sex. Especially to you. You just laid a gauntlet at my feet. Now I’m going to be forced to rock your world at a whole new level.”

I had no idea there could be a level better than last night.

His fingers trail down the crack of my ass until they dip beneath the slip of fabric. No surprise here, his touch slips through my sex easily from my arousal. In fact, arousal has new meaning next to it in the dictionary since Jack sauntered back into my life.

His lips land on my collarbone and slowly make their way between my breasts. I suck in a sharp breath when his teeth drag along my skin before they catch the lace of my bra as he pulls

One.

Then the other.

My breasts are bare and lifted with my bra taut below them. His lips wrap around my nipple as his teeth sink into my delicate skin with just enough force that I feel it below the waist.

I grip his thick, dark hair and hold him to me. “Holy shit.”

He sucks my nipple before letting go with a pop. “Holy shit just good or holy shit Jack is about to rock my world ?”

As if Jack Hale could be average. Still, I force my gaze down where his tongue drags down the center of my body and work hard to catch my breath as I keep giving him shit. “Whatever you do, don’t be a quitter. You should keep trying to redeem yourself.”

He glances up with narrowed eyes, but they’re paired with the sexiest, cockiest smirk I’ve seen in…

Well, the last twelve hours.

I could get used to that smirk.

I think I like the cocky as much as I like the sexy.

“I haven’t had the luxury of quitting anything. And since you’re a luxury, I don’t plan to stop now.”

He proves to be a man of his word. The thin material at my hips drags down my thighs, over my knees, and past my toes. They’re a whispered memory when he pushes my thighs apart and his lips land on delicate skin inside my thigh.

Another suck.

And a bite. This one harder than the one on my nipple.

I put my feet flat to the bed and lift my hips. I’m desperate for his touch. His fingers, lips, tongue.

I’ll take anything he’ll give me.

I’m greedy.

Jack proves he’s not a quitter, and I feel like I won the lottery. The sex lottery.

I get his tongue.

He laps me from sex to clit. I shudder when he circles the most sensitive spot on my body. Every part of me is acutely aware of the magic being spun between my legs. My breathing shallows and I think this is it.

That’s when he rips the rug out from under me. I lose his touch and everything perfect and sensual.

I push up to my elbows. “What’s wrong?”

Jack is standing at the foot of the bed looking down at me with heated eyes. He rips his belt from his pants before going for the button and zipper like they’re strangling him, and he can’t wait to get them off.

“Roll,” he demands.

I pull my knees together and cross my feet at the ankles. “Why?”

“Because when you come, you’re going to do it with me inside you.”

His pants and boxers hit the floor, and he moves to his nightstand to yank open a drawer.

I do not move or roll because I can’t take my eyes off him. The sight of Jack bare is a sight to see.

I stare at his cock. Thick, long, and hard. It bobs as he stalks back to me, demanding my attention.

“Roll over, baby,” Jack croons, ripping the condom open between his teeth.

I sit up in front of him and drag my fingers from the base to the tip of his cock.

His skin is silky but what lies beneath it is hard and masculine.

I run the tip of my finger over a drop of precum. I look up and find him staring down at me.

I slip my finger between my lips and taste him on my tongue.

Then I suck.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

I smile around my index finger and suck once more before pulling it out with a pop. “That’s what you get for stopping.”

“You’re trying to kill me,” he mutters as he slides the condom down his thick length. “No way am I coming before you. But the next time you do that, you’d better be ready to follow through.”

He bends at the waist and grabs me by the hips. The next thing I know, I’m tossed onto his mountain of perfectly chopped pillows and find myself yelping a second time in surprise before pillows fly left and right through the air. Then he flips me to my stomach, and my bra goes slack.

“Next time,” he says. His words come out on a rushed breath near my ear, and his heat hits my back. His chest is heavy when he gives me just a sliver of his bulk, and his long, hard cock presses into the crease of my ass. “I can’t wait to fuck your sweet mouth, Emma. It’s not going to happen tonight, but it’s going to happen soon.”

“Soon,” I echo and let that word trail off. It sounds like a promise.

I guess there’s no one-night stand when it comes to Jack Hale and me.

His thick forearm tucks under my waist and lifts. His knees nudge mine apart, and my ass is in the air.

But Jack…

He’s everywhere.

His lips hit my neck.

His chest presses to my back.

And the tip of his cock teases my sex at the same moment his fingers find my clit.

I moan when he gives me a hint of a touch there.

“Please.” I turn my head to the side and beg for something … anything. “You’ve already taken me to the edge once. Who’s trying to kill whom here?”

This time, his answer is in the form of an action.

He takes me in one firm thrust.

Jack Hale.

A dream that’s now a reality.

Jack

I groan into the side of her face when I slide inside.

I’m not sure how it can be better than yesterday, but it is. Maybe it’s because we’re here. In my house and in my bed. The first place that’s been all mine.

Who am I kidding?

It’s none of that.

It’s all her.

I feel her arch and tip her ass into me, so I press into her harder and put my lips to her ear. “You like it deep.”

Her voice is breathy. “I haven’t experienced anything with you that I don’t like.”

I pull out and press back in, teasing her clit. “I think I could stay right here forever, baby.”

I give her clit more pressure as I slide in and out, slow and steady. She’s not the only one I’m edging. There’s no way I’m coming before her. I want to feel her everywhere.

“Please,” she begs. “So much teasing. I can’t take it.”

A small tremor moves through her body when I give her clit more pressure. I feel it through my chest and all the way down to my cock. “I’m not sure you have a choice what you can take.”

I spread her knees farther and thrust. She might not have a choice on how fast or slow this goes, but my cock is begging me to let the reins go so he can have his way with her.

When her pussy clenches me, I realize I can’t hold out much longer.

“Fuck,” I groan. “It seems I can’t deny you anything.”

“That’s good for me,” she mutters on a moan and tries to move on my hand, but I have her pinned.

Her body is mine to control.

The more pressure I give her clit, the quicker her breaths come and the harder it is for me to fight every animal instinct within me.

She fists the bedding as her jaw goes slack. Just like last night, I take in every gorgeous feature.

I may never get enough of her.

I thrust into her again and stay planted as I give her what she wants, and it doesn’t take long. A little more pressure, and she falls. Her entire body convulses, but especially her pussy.

And I can’t hold on any longer.

I keep working her clit as I start to move.

Faster.

Harder.

Deeper.

She’s not quiet and doesn’t hold back. Her moans fill my bedroom. It’s like music for the soul.

And it feeds me like I’ve never been fed before.

When I really let go, she moves with me. Rocking into me harder.

I slam into her two more times before I come. It’s like I didn’t just have her less than twenty-four hours ago.

Staying planted deep, I slide my knees out from under me and take her with me, giving her as much weight as she can handle without leaving her.

I press my lips to her temple. “Thank you for staying.”

She drags her eyes open, and a lazy smile touches her lips. “Did you just say thank you? The way you balance your sweet and cocky amazes me.”

I press into her harder and take her mouth. When I finally break my kiss, I shift my weight to the side as much as I can. “I’ll thank you every time for that.”

“I misspoke the first time. I’ll never use the words good and sex in the same sentence when it comes to you again.”

I press my lips to hers once more. “If I have to keep proving it to you, I will.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You’d better. You deserve it.”

Her voice dips to a whisper. “There you go again … sweet.”

I press my lips to her forehead this time. I can’t be this close and not kiss her. “I’ll find you a toothbrush and whatever else you need. I need a good night’s sleep. I didn’t have a marathon nap like some people.”

“And there went the sweet.” Her smile swells proving there’s no bite to her words.

“Can’t let you get bored with me, baby. I’ve got to keep you on your toes.”