A Perfect Storm
Page 81

 Lori Foster

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She didn’t smile with him. “So…”
That particular serious look on Arizona had him really curious. “Something on your mind, honey?”
She chewed her lower lip, then blurted, “Jackson is pretty notorious sex candy.”
Sex candy? Jackson? That wasn’t at all what he’d expected, and for a moment, he stalled. While exploring the curve of her behind, he explained quietly, “You probably don’t know this, but when you’re sprawled out over a naked man after having sex with him, it’s really bad form to talk about another guy.”
Her brows scrunched down. “But I’m curious.”
Worse and worse.
He didn’t want to discourage her—not in any way—so he tried to hide all disgruntlement. “About Jackson?”
She studied him, and her face brightened with a mocking grin. “Not that way.” Laughing, she slugged his shoulder. “It’s just that I was thinking of him being such a panty-dropper.”
The things she said could make his brain swim. “Former panty-dropper.”
She looked at him in confusion. “What?”
Because it was important for her to understand the distinction, which reflected not only on relationships in general but also highlighted the difference between honorable men and cheaters, Spencer tried to explain. “Jackson is in love with Alani. You know that, right?”
“He doesn’t exactly hide his feelings about her. So what?”
“Being in love means that Alani’s panties are the only ones Jackson wants to drop from now on.”
Perplexed, she thought about that. “So a guy has to be in love to give up variety?”
He had no idea about the direction of her thoughts. But he wanted to be patient with her, and he wanted her to feel comfortable asking him anything. “What’s this about, baby?”
She veered offtrack to ask, “Why are you calling me baby?”
Leaning in to put his nose in her neck, Spencer smelled her. Touched her. Tasted her skin. “You are so soft, and so sweet. It’s just an endearment. You don’t like it?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s okay.”
He kissed her to keep from smiling. “So what are you thinking about?”
After a long hesitation that built the tension, she blurted, “Are you going to be doing this with any other women? I mean, while you’re doing it with me?”
Jealousy? Possessiveness? He suffered both, but he hadn’t expected it of her. Pretending to misunderstand, he mused aloud, “I did offer that redhead in the bar a three-way—”
She slugged him again, not so playfully this time. “Not funny, Spence.”
The grin got away from him. “It’s a little funny.”
She started to leave him, but he held on to her, and after the briefest wrestling match where he chuckled and she groused, she gave up. “Fine.” Plopping down on him again, she snapped, “Do whatever you want. Screw whoever you want.”
“I need a few minutes first, but thanks.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. After a second, she asked, “Me?”
“I’m a one-woman-at-a-time man.” He lifted her face and kissed her lightly on her mulish mouth. “Right now, you’re the only one I want.”
“Really?”
She looked so hopeful, wearing her heart on her sleeve, not bothering to protect herself. She would protect the world, anyone she thought needed her help.
But she wouldn’t protect her own heart.
“Silly Arizona.” He cupped her face, stroked her jaw with a thumb. “How on earth could I want any other woman when you’re around?”
Her mood lightened, and she surprised him by sitting up with a smile. “Let’s go eat some cake. I’m hungry.” She eyed him from head to toe and back again. “And maybe the sugar will speed along your recovery.”
So she wanted him again? Nice. “That particular hungry look from you might have done the trick.” He reached for her—and his doorbell rang.
Her expression went from impish to suspicious. “Who is that?”
“No idea.” Bodily, he lifted her out of his way and stood. “Why don’t you stay put and I’ll go find out?”
“Like that?” She nodded at his crotch. “Probably not a good idea.”
“Smart-ass.” He removed the spent condom and dropped it into the waste can, then reached for a pair of boxers.
Fascinated, Arizona watched him intently. “Well, you know who it is.”
He had an idea, but it wasn’t easy to banter with her while she sat there naked, in his bed, still warm from sex and staring so fixedly at his junk. “Who?”
“It’s Marla.”
“You don’t know that.” He pulled on jeans as the bell rang again. “Could be the postman.” And just to tease her, he said, “Or maybe Jackson decided to visit you.”
“Nah.” She sprawled to her back, one leg bent, arms over her head, and stretched. She was utterly comfortable in her nudity. “He’ll visit with us later today at Dare’s.”
Spencer had to take a turn staring. “I don’t suppose you’d want to stay exactly like that until I get back.”
She went still, then smiled. “You plan to take long?”
“No.” He wanted Arizona again, and he didn’t trust her to her own temper, so he’d send Marla on her way as quickly as he could.