Tara let the cool water rush over her hands as she glanced up at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, thinking how so much of what Jackson had revealed about himself had resonated with her. She might not have been illegally adopted, but her childhood had been equally rocky, and it had led to an addiction to drugs as a way to escape the pain of never being able to live up to her parents’—her father’s especially—expectations. Learning of their daughter’s substance abuse had only compounded their disgrace and shame and condemnation, which in turn had given Tara even more of a reason to keep those opiates in her system to numb her upheaval of emotions.
Instead of getting her the help she desperately needed, they’d kicked her out of the house and cut her off completely, because her strict, hard-ass of a father had zero tolerance for disobedience and no patience for mistakes or a lapse in judgment. And her mother . . . well, she’d been too timid and meek to contradict her husband’s orders. Even when Tara and her boyfriend at the time had ended up in the hospital for an overdose, and Michael had died of cardiac arrest that morning as a result of their excessive bingeing, her parents had never acknowledged her near-death experience.
There had been no one to console her through the devastation of losing someone she’d cared deeply for. No family to help her through her overwhelming grief and survivor’s guilt she’d struggled with. Even Michael’s wealthy family had blamed Tara for his death, and his sister, Brynn, had spewed such hate-filled words the last time Tara had seen her that Tara had wanted to curl up and die herself.
It had been the darkest, most terrifying time of her life, and she’d never felt so isolated and afraid. Or abandoned.
Clay Kincaid had changed all that. Once she’d left rehab clean and sober, he’d offered her a job and a chance to get it right. From the moment she started working for him, she’d felt the support of his brothers and the rest of the employees at Kincaid’s. They were all like family to each other, including Katrina, Samantha, and Sarah—the amazing women who were now a part of each brother’s life.
Other than that small circle of people, Tara was a loner. She’d spent the past six years focused on her job, going to school, studying, and working through the guilt of Michael’s death with a therapist. She knew the self-blame would never go away completely, that sense of loss, but at least she’d learned to deal with the pain without reverting to those prescription drugs that had dulled her senses.
She exhaled a sigh and glanced away from her image in the mirror as she lathered up a dollop of liquid soap over her hands. Everything about that time in her life had left her cautious, careful, and guarded. A part of her was afraid of letting go again, of allowing herself to feel deeply for someone, especially a man. She held herself back out of fear of not being good enough, of being tainted by a past filled with disgrace and shame, and therefore she was alone . . . and lonely. And that solitude was most evident when she witnessed the intimate, loving relationships that Clay, Mason, and Levi had managed to find for themselves. With them all paired off, she sometimes felt like the odd woman out.
She’d dated a few times over the years since leaving rehab, but nothing had ever panned out. There had never been any sparks worth pursuing, and while the guys she’d gone out with had been more than eager to make it all about a casual hookup, it had never felt right for her. Therefore, she’d been deliberately celibate for the past six years. She and her battery-operated boyfriend were on really good terms. He gave her as many orgasms as she wanted and expected nothing in return.
It had been the perfect arrangement without any emotional complications, until Jackson had walked into Kincaid’s a week ago and ignited a desire that only burned hotter and brighter each time she saw him. It was as though he’d flipped a switch inside her and had awakened all those erogenous zones that had lain dormant for so long. And the few times he’d touched her, she’d experienced a jolt of need that made her crave more of him.
There was no denying that she wanted him to caress her body until she melted and moaned, which she suspected wouldn’t take much. She wanted those full, sensual lips sliding against hers, hard and demanding and hungry. And while he was at it, she wouldn’t mind his mouth on her breasts, sucking her nipples, and his tongue delving between her thighs. That was definitely something her vibrator wasn’t capable of.
She turned off the cool water and reached for a paper towel as those shameless thoughts of Jackson managed to do what all her previous dates had failed to accomplish—make her wet and aroused and aching for the feel of a real cock thrusting deep inside her.
She bit her bottom lip to keep her moan from escaping and came to a solid conclusion based on their mutual chemistry. Jackson Stone was exactly what she needed to finally end her six-year dry spell. He was gorgeous and sexy and pure temptation. Lean and lightly muscled in all the right places—the T-shirt and jeans he’d worn tonight showed off his toned physique more than his suit from the prior week had—he had a body made for pleasuring a woman, and she had no doubt he’d leave her thoroughly satisfied, in every way. And she wouldn’t mind returning the favor, making sure she had the opportunity to explore his hard, hot body, too—with her fingers, her lips, her tongue.
Yeah, she wanted all that. Wanted him.
Now that she’d made the decision to go for it—or rather, go for Jackson—a thrilling anticipation took up residence in her, one she embraced because it felt like forever since her body had been this attuned to a man.
She didn’t fool herself into believing that she was the type of woman who’d fit into the affluent life he’d created for himself on a long-term basis—not that she was looking for that kind of commitment. She was hardly cultured or sophisticated, and her past drug addiction and overdose were like a scarlet letter on her chest, but she could at least enjoy Jackson for a while. Too many years had passed her by since she’d done something for herself, for no other reason than she wanted, needed, to feel desired again.
Tara smiled at the woman staring back at her as a sudden flutter of nerves swirled in her belly. God, she hoped she hadn’t forgotten how to seduce a man. She was so out of practice, abysmally so, but if she didn’t make some kind of attempt, the opportunity might pass her by, and she didn’t want to look back and have regrets and wish she’d taken that chance.
She wanted to take a chance with Jackson. Sexually speaking, that was. Nothing complicated. Just sex for the sake of pleasure. This gorgeous guy who’d already admitted he wanted to do dirty, bad things to her was the perfect man to end her six-year drought.
Bolstering her courage, she walked back out of the restroom. Jackson was leaning against the table they’d eaten their donuts at, waiting for her return. She took a moment to appreciate the way the soft fabric of his T-shirt stretched across his well-defined chest and how the short sleeves hugged his strong biceps. His fingers were tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, drawing her gaze to the way the denim molded to the soft bulge beneath the zipper. His legs were crossed casually at the ankles, and when she finally traversed her way back up to his handsome face that was dusted with just the right amount of sexy stubble, one of his dark eyebrows was raised and a wicked smile tugged at his mouth.
Heat and awareness thrummed through her. She ought to be embarrassed at getting caught but decided that shying away from their physical connection wouldn’t get her anywhere. So, she lifted an eyebrow of her own in a shameless challenge as she approached him.
“Were you just checking me out?” His voice was a low, rumbling tease.
She laughed lightly and played along. Flirtatious ribbing she could do. “You stared at my ass back at the bar, so fair is fair.”
“Just for the sake of honesty and full disclosure, I’ve stared at your enticing ass a whole lot,” he admitted as he pushed away from the table and guided her toward the door with one hand at the base of her spine. Then he leaned in close and added oh so sinfully, “Thought about smacking it a few times, too.”
Her breath caught when he subtly caressed his large palm over the curve of her bottom, and for a brief second, she wondered if he was going to follow through on his admission—and oh, God, the thought had her quivering in anticipation—but instead his hand fell away as he opened the door for her.
As she walked past him with a murmured “thank you,” she looked up and caught his gaze. The twinkle in his dark, chocolate-brown eyes conveyed a distinct message there was no misinterpreting: two can play your game.
Oh, he was definitely having fun toying with her, and the fact that they were on the same page when it came to their attraction only solidified her confidence. Made her feel naughty and sexy and just a little bit risqué.
As they walked toward their cars, she gave him a sidelong glance. After everything she’d just learned about him, and the things she knew to be true and had already seen for herself, like his decency and his integrity, she posed a question that added to the lighthearted mood between them.
“So, Jackson . . . I can’t decide if you’re a saint like your brother Clay or if you’re more the sinner type.”
He slipped his hand into hers, grabbing it securely in his grip as he brought her thumb to his mouth and bit on the tip, just sharp enough to make her gasp in surprise. That nip also injected her entire body with lust.
There was nothing saint-like about the heat in his eyes as he held her gaze. “Nobody’s ever called me a saint, and just because you might look at me and see Clay because we’re identical twins, I can assure you that doesn’t mean we share that trait.”
Actually, when she looked at Jackson now, she no longer saw him as a cookie-cutter version of his brother as she had at first. Now that she knew him better, she saw him for a kind, caring individual struggling to come to terms with the bombshell he’d been dealt upon learning about his illegal adoption while trying to make amends with his brothers. This man walking beside her made Tara’s heart ache for everything that had been stolen from him, for the appalling childhood he’d endured, and how badly he wanted his siblings to accept him as one of their own.
But she didn’t say any of that, because she didn’t want to dampen their enjoyable banter with something so serious.
She grinned up at him as they reached her vehicle. “So, what you’re saying, then, is that you fall into the sinner category?”
He released her hand and backed her up against the driver’s-side door, then braced his palms on either side of her shoulders, caging her between her car and his big, solid frame. He wasn’t touching her anywhere, yet she tingled all over. His body remained mere inches away, tempting and teasing her, and she was suddenly dying to feel it pressed hard against hers.
“Let’s put it this way, sweetheart,” he drawled in a tone of voice that was infused with pure, illicit sex. “If you knew all the filthy, explicit things I’ve fantasized about doing to you, there would be no doubts in your mind that I’m a sinner in all the ways that matter.”
Her breathing deepened, and she licked her bottom lip, nearly groaning when his gaze followed the slow slide of her tongue. Except for the two of them, it was deserted in the back parking area and dimly lit. They were standing between both of their cars, which blocked them from view from anyone driving by.
She placed her hand on his hips, wishing it was his bare skin beneath her fingers and not the fabric of his shirt. “Tell me all the ways you want to sin with me,” she whispered, needing to hear every indecent detail.
He moved his hands from her car, pressing them gently against the sides of her face and tipping her head back so he was looking directly into her eyes. “Sin number one revolves around this sweet, beautiful mouth of yours. I’ve dreamed about kissing it, wondered too many times to count how you’d taste deep inside.” His thumb skimmed along her damp bottom lip, tugging provocatively on the full flesh. “But that’s a mild fantasy compared to the one I have of fisting my hands in your hair and pushing you to your knees in front of me. Want to know what happens after that?”
Those legs he just spoke of weakened, and she was grateful for the support of the vehicle behind her. Mimicking his words, Jackson’s fingers had already found their way into her hair, and she felt a distinct tug against her scalp as he wrapped the long strands around his hand. She felt the power and control in his grip, saw the glow of hunger in his eyes as he waited for her to answer.
A shiver stole through her. “Yes, I want to know everything.” Her voice was so filled with passion she hardly recognized it as her own.
He leaned into her, the stiff length of his cock nestling at the crux of her thighs as he tipped her head to the side and brought his stubbled cheek to hers so that he could whisper huskily into her ear. “Sin number two is all about having your soft lips wrapped tight around my dick as you suck me, and your hot mouth taking me so fucking deep I hit the back of your throat.”
Between the arousing scratch of his facial hair against her skin, his hips doing a slow grind against hers, and his uncensored descriptions, all she could do was close her eyes and moan. Her nipples were so tight they hurt, and there was no mistaking the slick moisture dampening her panties or the way her sex pulsed with need. She’d never been so turned on before, had never been so overwhelmed with such wild, uncontrollable desire for a man.
His warm breath tickled her ear as he untangled his fingers from her hair and smoothed his palms down the sides of her body, bypassing her swollen, aching breasts, much to her disappointment. His big hands traced along the curve of her hips—God, she hated the clothing between them—then slid around to her backside and grabbed and squeezed her ass.
He bent slightly, allowing his hands to smooth lower so that they were now gripping the backs of her thighs. Bracing her against the car, he lifted both of her legs, securing them on either side of his hips until she was forced to wrap them tight around his waist. She instinctively locked her ankles at the small of his back, and her hands clung to his shoulders, holding on, as he rocked every part of his body against hers. The friction of his erection along her sex had her writhing against that solid column of flesh, seeking some kind of relief to the relentless throb between her thighs.
“Jackson . . . ” She wasn’t sure if his name on her lips was out of shock or a plea for him to end the sensual torment he was putting her through.
He ignored her attempt to get his attention. “You ready for sin number three, baby?” he growled into her ear, but didn’t wait for her reply. Not that any response was needed considering the wanton way she was rubbing against him like a cat in heat.
“I’ve thought about spreading your legs wide and burying my mouth between your creamy thighs. I’ve imagined licking your pussy until you come so fucking hard you see stars.” He flicked his tongue against her neck, then grazed his teeth along that same patch of sensitive skin, making her shiver. “Then I’d roll you over and put you on your hands and knees so I could mark you as mine with a nice pink handprint on your soft ass before driving into you from behind until your second orgasm milks me dry.”
He had her so worked up she was panting, her skin hot and flushed and her pussy screaming for some kind of relief from all his verbal foreplay. He lifted his head from her throat and lightly brushed his lips across hers.
“Do you want to sin with me, Tara?” he asked against her mouth.
Head spinning, throat tight, she somehow managed to answer. “God, yes. Please.”
He finally crushed his lips to hers, devouring her like a man starved for the taste of her, thrusting his tongue deep inside as his raw, guttural groan of need vibrated throughout her entire body. She threaded her fingers through the soft strands of his hair as his mouth demanded her acquiescence, and she let him take complete control of the kiss, succumbing to every ounce of pleasure he gave her.
He shifted one of his legs so that his thigh supported her bottom, freeing his hands for other more sensual pursuits. He tugged the hem of her work shirt from her jeans, and she moaned her gratitude when his fingers touched her bare stomach, then glided up her rib cage. She was wearing a bra, but that didn’t stop him from enveloping her breasts in the scorching heat of his palms or dissuade his thumbs from flicking and teasing the impossibly hard tips of her nipples through the thin, lacy fabric. Breathing took a back seat to pure sensation as the ache between her thighs gathered force with every slow, searing stroke of his shaft against her core.
She squirmed to get closer. Clenched her thighs around his hips to increase the pressure right where she needed it the most. Even confined beneath the zipper of his jeans, there was no denying his cock was thick and huge, more so than the vibrator she’d grown used to, which would now forever pale in comparison. She imagined all that solid male heat working its way inside her, inch by delectable inch. Envisioned him filling her with the breath-stealing force he’d just described and without any restraint holding him back from taking what he ultimately wanted . . .
And then, it all abruptly ended as Jackson tore his mouth from hers and cursed beneath his breath. Despite her weak protest, he untangled their limbs and gradually released her so that she was standing on her own two feet again. A little unsteady, but his hands on her waist helped.
“We can’t do this here,” he said in a gruff voice, but the frustration etching his expression, the unquenched desire, was just as keen as her own.
Her passion-hazed mind cleared, their surroundings came back into focus, and her skin flushed when she realized what she’d nearly allowed in a public place.
“And if I take you home right now, neither one of us will get any sleep because I will fuck you for hours,” he added in a low, heated tone that was filled with regret. “Which means I won’t be worth shit at a very important meeting I have at work in the morning.”
The only thing she could manage was an agreeable nod.
“I want to see you again.” He tenderly brushed unruly tendrils of her hair away from her cheek, his gaze searching hers, bright with determination. “I need to see you again.”
She understood that same strong urge to be with him again, too. Not just to finish what they’d started tonight but because she really liked the way he made her feel. More vibrant and alive than she had since losing Michael. Like she finally had something exciting to look forward to other than the mundane existence she’d lived for so many years.
“I work Thursday and Friday night,” she said and, for the first time ever, hated that she worked the evening shift, because it conflicted with his nine-to-five schedule.
He tipped his head. “Saturday?” he asked hopefully.
“I’m off.” And then she remembered why she wasn’t on the schedule for that night. Because Clay had essentially ordered her to take the day off for a party being thrown in her honor.
“So, how about we go out on a real date then?” he suggested.
Tara didn’t respond immediately and instead considered her options. She couldn’t very well blow off her friends and the barbeque they’d planned to celebrate her finally getting her degree. But she could invite Jackson to join her, which would also force Clay, Mason, and Levi to deal with the reality of having a brother who was a decent guy and not the threat they believed him to be. Maybe, hopefully, having them all in a casual setting would make it easier for them to get to know one another better.
She reached out and placed her hands on his chest, because she liked touching him and she also hoped that the connection between the two of them would help sway him. “So . . . Samantha, Katrina, and Sarah are throwing me a graduation party on Saturday at Clay’s house,” she said quickly. “Come with me.”
His body tensed, and he stared at her as if she’d just grown a third eye. “You’re kidding, right?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m completely serious.”
His frown increased, his dark brown eyes reflecting his apprehension. “Tara, my brothers don’t want to have anything to do with me. What makes you think they’re going to be okay with me crashing a party I wasn’t invited to?”
“You wouldn’t be crashing because I’m inviting you, as my guest,” she said with an encouraging smile. “It’s my party and I want you there. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
He scrubbed a hand over his clenched jaw, clearly torn. He hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t flat out refused her, either, and that’s what Tara concentrated on.
“I’d really like you to be there, and I honestly think it would help your cause if you met Samantha, Katrina, and Sarah, because they’re the ones who can sway the guys. Really.”
He didn’t look totally convinced, but the small, wry smile curving the corner of his mouth told her he was considering her invitation. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”
She shrugged. “The very worst that could happen is that they tell you to leave, though I’m pretty sure they won’t. They might be acting like closed-minded idiots right now, but you all have to start somewhere, right?”
Tara had no idea why the brothers hadn’t reached out to Jackson since meeting him. Their distrust of outsiders was a typical reaction for the three men, and she could only assume that they were still trying to process Jackson’s existence. Sure, they might be surprised to see him at her party, possibly even wary at first, but she was determined to give all of them a nudge in the right direction. And hopefully, with Samantha, Katrina, and Sarah as buffers, their significant others’ cool demeanor toward Jackson would start to thaw.
“So, what do you say?” she asked persuasively, knowing he was close to agreeing. “Do you want to pick me up at three on Saturday?”
He released a heavy breath and finally nodded, clearly wanting what she was offering. “Yeah, I’d like that. A lot.”
She grinned triumphantly as she took her cell phone from her purse. “What’s your phone number so I can text you my number and address,” she said before he had too much time to think about his decision and have second thoughts.
He gave her his contact information and she typed it in, then immediately sent him a message with her street address, which also gave him her cell number. Once that was done, she dropped her phone back into her handbag, then poked him playfully in the chest.
“Technically, this is a date, so no backing out,” she said impudently.
He caught her hand before she could pull it away and flicked his tongue along the pulse point in her wrist, his gaze hot and seductive and amused. “Or what?” he murmured.
That quickly, that easily, a renewed longing sizzled through her. “If you cancel, there’ll be no sinning for you, that’s what,” she replied with sass.
“Damn,” he muttered with a feigned frown. “You drive one hell of a hard bargain.”
She laughed lightly. “It’s called an incentive. Just keep your eye on the prize, Mr. Stone, and don’t forget how Saturday night is going to end.”
He grinned at her. “And how’s that?”
God, he was so charming, with just enough bad boy thrown in for good measure, which made him incredibly difficult to resist. But then again, she’d already decided that she was going to enjoy him, the flirting, the sex . . . whatever this was between them.
Leaning toward him, she placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, then whispered in his ear, “Saturday night will end any way you want it to,” she promised.
He pulled back slightly, so she couldn’t miss the carnal look in his eyes, the salacious expression flashing across his bold, masculine features. “There’s always sin number four, where you’re sitting astride my cock as I—”
She quickly covered his mouth and groaned, her body and senses already on overload and on the verge of spontaneously combusting from all his dirty talk. “You’re seriously killing me.”
He pulled her hand away, a smirk on his lips. “What I plan to do to you won’t kill you, but it might just make you scream with pleasure. In fact, that’s what I’ll be aiming for. Numerous times.”
Tara didn’t think she could be any more aroused, but Jesus, the man was lethal and every sexual fantasy she’d ever had. Saturday seemed like a lifetime away, but she was pretty damn sure that sinning with Jackson Stone was going to be worth the wait.
