Two days passed and Jen still hadn’t heard from her brother. He was going out of his way to avoid her, which she found not only infuriating, but juvenile as hell. She’d left him several messages, ranging from pissed off to apologetic, but truth was, she didn’t feel like apologizing to him. She couldn’t believe he’d hit Cash, his own teammate. And then lecturing her about who she got involved with? Seeing as how he’d screwed up his own marriage, he had no right to pass judgment on her relationship with Cash.
Relationship?
Jen’s hand froze over the handle of the pot. She’d just filled it with water, but now she set it down, troubled by where her thoughts had gone.
“Fling,” she mumbled to herself.
Right, she and Cash weren’t in a relationship. They were having a fling. A fling that would be over in less than a week.
So why did the thought of ending it with Cash bring an ache to her heart?
Her ringing phone provided a much-needed distraction. She grabbed it from the counter and looked at the screen, wrinkling her forehead as she studied the unfamiliar number. She didn’t think it was Brendan, since it was a Los Angeles area code, but who would be calling her from L.A.?
She answered with a wary, “Hello?”
A male voice met her ears. “May I speak to Jennifer Scott?”
“Speaking.”
“Jennifer, hello. This is Rick Martin. I’m the photo editor at Today’s World.”
Surprise flitted through her. “Oh…hi.”
“Jane Becker gave me your number—I hope that’s okay. She said you wouldn’t mind if I called you directly.”
“Ah, no, it’s not a problem. What’s this about, Mr. Martin?”
“Please, call me Rick.” He sounded really pleasant, his voice a deep baritone. “I was hoping you would come in for a meeting to discuss a freelance position with the magazine.”
She dropped the phone.
As it clattered to the tiled floor, Jen scrambled to her knees, cursing up a blue streak as she fumbled to retrieve it. When she lifted it back to her ear, she heard chuckling on the other end.
“Sorry about that,” she said hastily. “I dropped the phone.”
“I gathered.”
“I’m a little confused,” she confessed. “How did you…I never submitted anything…”
“I came across your blog the other day, and I have to say, I was impressed by what I saw. Your bio mentioned you come from a military family, and the last name sounded familiar, so I called Jane. Turns out I met your brother Carson at Jane’s wedding. Her husband and your brother serve on the same unit. Small world, huh?”
“Yeah, small world,” she echoed numbly. She was still shocked—the photo editor of one of the most renowned magazines in the country had seen her blog? And it had impressed him?
“Anyway, Jane said you’d be open to the opportunity, though she did confess she had no idea you were such a talented photographer.”
Jen felt herself blushing.
“Would you be able to come to L.A. this week? I’d love to discuss this further.”
“Me too,” she said, probably a tad too eagerly. “When would you like me to come?”
“How about Friday?”
Friday? That only gave her three days to put together a portfolio. “Friday’s great,” she blurted out.
Jen was in a total daze as they went over the details. She scribbled the address and Rick’s number on a Post-it note, then thanked him and hung up, staring into nothingness for several long seconds as she tried to wrap her head around what just happened.
When it finally sank in, she let out a shriek of delight.
A second later, a naked, dripping-wet Cash burst into the living room.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
She gaped at him. “You heard me all the way in the shower? Wow, you’ve got phenomenal hearing.”
He strode toward her. Droplets slid down his bare chest and clung to his eyelashes. His annoyance was written all over his chiseled face. “You screamed. What happened?”
“I shrieked,” she corrected.
“Why?”
“Because I just got the best news ever.”
She quickly told him about the phone call with Rick Martin, and the next thing she knew, she was in Cash’s arms. The front of her tank top promptly got drenched, and drops of water from his nose fell onto her forehead, reminding her of the fact that he was buck naked and soaking wet.
“I’m so proud of you,” he said gruffly, then lowered his head to kiss her, and for a second she forgot what they were celebrating. Cash’s drugging, toe-curling kisses always had that effect on her.
She sank into his strong embrace, still overwhelmed. Someone had seen her pictures—and liked them. Liked them enough to discuss the possibility of giving her a job.
“I can’t believe this,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s so surreal.”
Cash smiled. “We have to celebrate.”
She felt a flicker of embarrassment. “It’s just a meeting. There’s no guarantee I’ll even get the job.”
Confidence lined his tone. “You’ll get it. And we’re celebrating.” He took a backward step, completely unfazed by his nudity. “Put something nice on,” he ordered. “I’m taking you out for dinner.”
“But I was about to make macaroni and cheese.”
“We can’t celebrate over mac and cheese, sweetheart. We’re not heathens.” He turned on his heel, providing her with a candid view of his taut ass. Man, she could bounce quarters off that thing. “Wear something fancy,” he said over his shoulder.
Unable to stop smiling, she hurried into Cash’s bedroom and darted toward her suitcases, which sat on the floor. As she rummaged around, she realized with dismay that she hadn’t packed anything nicer than a casual sundress.
So she poked her head in the bathroom and said, “I’m going up to Annabelle’s. Fashion emergency.”
An hour and a half later, Jen finally strode back into the apartment. She knew Cash was probably annoyed that she’d made him wait so long, but when she’d gone upstairs to borrow a dress, Annabelle insisted on helping her get ready. Dress, shoes, hair, makeup—Annabelle had put her through the wringer.
But when Jen walked into the living room and saw Cash’s expression, she decided all the effort had definitely been worth it.
“Jesus. You look…incredible.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and pleasure tickled her skin. Annabelle had loaned her a red dress with a deep vee neckline and a filmy skirt that swirled around her knees. She’d paired it with three-inch black stilettos that added some height to her petite frame and made her legs look long and sleek. Annabelle had curled her hair so that it fell down her back in tousled ringlets, and they’d opted for minimal makeup, save for red lipstick that made her feel bold and wanton.
Under Cash’s appreciative gaze, her cheeks warmed, then scorched when she registered his appearance.
Oh, sweet mother of God. The man filled out a suit like nobody’s business. The black jacket hugged his broad shoulders, and the top two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, revealing his strong, corded throat. He looked sexy as hell, and he smelled like heaven when he leaned in to kiss her. The scent of his aftershave gave her a head rush; his firm lips as they gently brushed over hers made her even dizzier.
“Are you sure we’re not jinxing it?” she asked when they broke apart. “We’re kind of putting the cart before the horse by celebrating what might not end in a job offer.”
He took her hand and led her to the door. “It’s not the job offer that matters. It’s that someone recognized your talent. A job would just be the icing on the cake. If you don’t get it, then you can apply somewhere else, knowing that you are good enough.”
His thoughtful words made her heart soar. For a man who claimed not to know what to say to women, he seemed to be doing a damn good job.
Cash held her hand the entire way down to the parking lot, letting go only to open the car door for her. His long fingers stroked her palm as he drove away from the building.
Ten minutes later, when he pulled up in front of Primrose, Jen looked over in surprise. “How’d you swing a reservation?”
“I know the chef,” Cash answered with a grin. He paused. “I know this place probably reminds you of Carson, but everywhere else I called didn’t have a table.”
She squeezed his hand. “It’s all right. But let’s promise not to talk about my idiot brother tonight.”
“Done.”
She felt a bit like Cinderella as she followed him into the restaurant. The place was filled to capacity, but Holly must have pulled some serious strings, because the hostess led them to one of the more secluded tables in the main room. The pristine white tablecloth and glowing candles made Jen smile. Cash pulled out a chair for her, giving her an even bigger princess complex.
“I could get used to all this gallantry,” she teased.
His eyes softened. “I could get used to being gallant.”
They settled in their chairs and reached for the menus. Jen tried not to raise her eyebrows when she glimpsed the price list. But based on previous visits, she couldn’t deny that the food here was to die for, which was probably why it was so damn expensive.
Cash ordered a bottle of red wine and they toasted to her interview. For the next hour, they chatted easily, swiping food off each other’s plates and sharing a decadent piece of chocolate cake. At some point, it occurred to her that this was their first real date, a realization that both pleased and troubled her. She decided not to dwell on the latter, choosing to focus on her good news, the great food, and the even greater company. Being with Cash was so…effortless.
By the time they got back to the apartment, Jen had never felt happier or more relaxed.
“Thanks for dinner,” she murmured, kissing Cash’s clean-shaven cheek. “I had a really nice time, cowboy.”
“The night’s not over yet,” he said, reaching for her hand.
He led her to the bedroom, where Jen gasped. Candles had been arranged all over the room. The yellow glow and the shadows dancing on the walls created a romantic ambience that made her heart do a little flip. The bed was perfectly made with a new bedcover and fresh pillowcases.
When had he done all this?
Probably when she’d been up at Annabelle’s, she supposed.
“Did you leave the candles burning the entire time we were out? Because that is such a fire hazard!”
He grinned. “No, I texted Annabelle when we pulled into the lot and told her to light them.” He came up behind her and brushed his lips over the nape of her neck. “Sit down.”
Jen practically floated to the bed, her pulse speeding up when Cash sank to his knees in front of her. He slid her stilettos off one by one, then moved his fingers beneath the hem of her dress and rolled the fabric up her legs. When her thigh-high stockings were revealed, he groaned.
“Oh, I like these,” he rasped, trailing his fingers over the sheer stockings.
Anticipation built inside her as Cash slowly unrolled each stocking, his fingers leaving a trail of heat along her skin. He ran his hands over her bare legs, then bunched the hem of her dress with his fists and slid the fabric up and over her head.
Left in a black strapless bra and skimpy panties, she met his eyes. The longing and appreciation on his face made her palms go damp and her heart beat faster.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
“Only about, oh, a hundred times already.”
“Let’s make it a hundred and one then. You’re beautiful, Jen.”
He looked beautiful himself, his eyes shining in the candlelight, his gorgeous face softer than she’d ever seen it.
Her throat clogged with emotion. Her heart squeezed. Her hands trembled. God, something was happening. The way he was looking at her, the tenderness with which he touched her… She sensed something changing between them, but she was too scared to label it, too scared to let it fully sink in.
“Lie back,” he said.
Swallowing, she lay back, watching as he stood up and began removing his clothes. He tossed his jacket aside, unbuttoned his shirt, and peeled it off his broad shoulders, leaving him gloriously bare-chested. His trousers and boxers hit the floor. His impressive arousal jutted proudly, making her mouth water.
When he climbed on the bed and stretched out beside her, she tried to reach for him, but he gently moved her hand away. “Not yet. This is about you.”
And boy, was it ever.
Cash spent the next hour so focused on her body, on her pleasure, that Jen nearly went out of her mind. His soft lips trailed kisses over every inch of her skin, exploring, teasing, bringing her to the brink only to retreat before she toppled over it. He made love to her with his mouth, his tongue, his hands, and he did it in a slow, thorough pace that threatened her sanity. He didn’t leave an inch of flesh unexplored, and each brush of his hungry lips and flick of his hot tongue made her shiver. She was overcome with sensation, gasping for air and mumbling gibberish by the time he gave her what she needed.
He brought her to climax with his tongue, feasting on her until she writhed on the mattress and begged for mercy. Her body hummed, her heart pounded, and she was so sated she could barely move.
“Come up here,” she whispered, reaching for him.
He slid up her body and cradled her cheeks with his hands. His eyes glimmered with need, his erection heavy against her stomach. Without a word, he kissed her so deeply and methodically that her brain turned to mush. Despite the fact that she’d just climaxed, tension built in her core again, a dull ache that only Cash could ease.
His powerful chest heaved as he sucked in a breath. “I need you, Jen.”
He donned a condom, parted her legs, and slid inside.
The orgasm caught her by complete surprise. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight while a flood of pleasure swept her away to a plane where only bliss and Cash McCoy existed.
When she opened her eyes, she found Cash watching her with an indefinable expression. “I love watching you come apart like that,” he said roughly.
He rolled his hips, hitting a delicious spot inside her, then increased his tempo, but not by much. She was in awe of his control, the restraint he used as he slowly moved inside her. His features were so taut, the tendons in his neck strained, as if he was dying to let go but wanted to make it last. The only sounds in the room were their ragged breathing, the soft squeak of the bedsprings, and the wet suction of his shaft sliding in and out of her.
Jen’s heartbeat vibrated against her breasts. “You’re not talking,” she realized.
He stilled. “What?”
“No dirty talk,” she clarified. “The room was so quiet, and I realized it’s because you’re not talking. You’re not telling me all the dirty things you want to do to me or how much you love fucking me.” She searched his face. “Why?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Maybe because…because this doesn’t feel like fucking.”
Before she could even attempt to make sense of that, he took possession of her mouth and kissed her, driving his cock into her again and reigniting her passion.
They moved in perfect unison. Mouths locked together, bodies joined, chests colliding. She didn’t come again, but when Cash did, groaning out her name as he lost control, the joy that skyrocketed through her and filled her heart rivaled any orgasm.
Cash made a sound of pure contentment as he gently withdrew and rolled them over, tucking her back into his damp chest.
“That was nice,” he said hoarsely.
“Yeah,” she whispered, unable to fight the unsettling feeling in her gut.
They lay there spooning, and long after Cash had fallen asleep, Jen remained awake, staring at the wall. He was right. This hadn’t felt like fucking, and it definitely didn’t feel like a fling anymore.
She stirred restlessly, knowing there was really only one question she ought to be asking herself: What on earth was she supposed to do now?
