In Your Corner
Page 17
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His eyes narrow. “There is no option three. Right now, you’re going to take a shower and eat. Tomorrow, you’re going to look for a job—”
“Says who?”
“Me.”
Torn between being extremely irritated and highly amused, I fold my arms and revert back to the taunting voice of my childhood. “You and what army?”
“Shower,” he barks like a drill sergeant.
“Go to hell,” I respond like a clueless new recruit.
Wrong thing to say. Down goes the comforter. Up goes Amanda. I screech as he secures me over his strong shoulder, my ass in the air, my legs pinned tight against his broad chest.
“Beast. Let me go.” My fists thud uselessly against his tight ass.
Jake rumbles a laugh. “Oh, I will.”
He dumps me unceremoniously in the shower, and before I can escape, he turns on the freezing cold water. With a wicked grin, he bolts and closes the door behind him, laughing when I yell obscenities at his departing back. “You are going to be so damn sorry.”
Half an hour later, showered and dressed for the first time in I don’t know how long, my “girly stuff,” aka makeup and hair, done, I descend the stairs. Jake is tapping a wall with a small hammer and muttering to himself about plaster.
“Ahem.”
He spins around and I pose for him in the only clean pair of jeans I own, a sparkly tank top, and kitten heels.
A grin splits his face. “Wow. You do clean up well.”
“Now it’s your turn.” I give him an evil smile before I drench him with the pitcher of freezing water I had been holding behind my back.
His shocked expression is worth the risk. His subtly raised eyebrow and menacing growl are not. Laughing, I race through the house, but my heels slide on the hardwood floor and Jake catches me around the waist before I can make it to the patio doors.
“You know better than that.” His fingers dig under my ribs, tickling me until I can barely breathe. My heart squeezes in my chest. This is how it used to be between us. Fun. Playful. Hot.
“Let me go.” I mock a growl. “You know I hate being tickled.”
His arms tighten around me and his lips brush over the sensitive skin of my neck sending a shiver down my spine. I try to wriggle away from his sodden clothes. I wiggle and wriggle.
“Amanda…stop.” His words are barely more than a pained whisper, but I freeze instantly and for the longest moment he holds me against him. His face buried in my hair. His heaving chest pressed against my back. His erection nestled into the crack of my ass.
Oh God.
“Sorry.” Pulse racing, I wrench myself away and half turn toward the stairs. “I’ll get you a towel.”
Before my brain has even processed that he has moved, I’m in his arms, my br**sts pressed tight against his rock-solid body.
“I have a towel,” he rasps, deep and low. “And she’s not running away.”
So hot. So hard. So utterly masculine. One slide of my body against his and my ni**les tighten into hard peaks. My blood turns molten, burning its way through my veins. No one has ever aroused me the way Jake does, and even after all this time, it is clear nothing has changed.
A shudder runs through me, but when I try to step away from the tormenting rub of his body against mine, he tightens his arm around my waist and threads his fingers through my hair, gently easing my head back until I am forced to look up into eyes as dark and stormy as the ocean.
“Fuck.” He growls the word, holding me so tight I can barely breathe.
My body trembles at the unexpected firmness of his touch. Jake in the bedroom was always gentle and fun. We traded pleasures equally, teased each other mercilessly, but never once did he push past my boundaries. We were partners in every sense of the word. But this Jake, dominant Jake—forceful, aggressive, and unpredictable—sends my desire to a whole new level.
“Jake.” His name emerges from my lips in a squeak of whisper as I press my hands against his chest. No longer am I the woman who just wants a good time and winds up in Hell, in its infinite variety of forms. For the first time, I want something more, and I won’t get that with the man I hurt. I couldn’t give myself to him before, why would anything be different now?
Shoving him back until he loosens his grip, I wiggle free. “I’ll get you that towel.”
“Amanda…”
Without looking back, I bolt up the stairs. I can’t be the fun, crazy girl he remembers. That girl would probably be having sex right now on the living room floor. She would be adding another page to Farnsworth’s blue file. She would know he was only teasing and in the morning, she would be alone.
***
“’Manda!”
Rampage throws his arms around me and gives me an enormous bear hug at the entrance to Redemption. “’Manda, ’manda, ’manda,” he chants, lifting me so high my feet leave the ground. “You’re okay!”
“It’s Amanda,” I say dryly. “And I’m okay thanks to you and the other guys.”
“Everybodddeeeee. ’Manda’s here!”
Damn.
“Actually, I was hoping to fly under the radar tonight and just…”
A stampede of fighters swarms me, cutting me off from any possible escape. I am squeezed, hugged, kissed on the cheek, and petted like a kitten while Jake watches from the corner, bemused. But when someone cops a feel of my ass, he dives into the fray and pulls me out.
“Says who?”
“Me.”
Torn between being extremely irritated and highly amused, I fold my arms and revert back to the taunting voice of my childhood. “You and what army?”
“Shower,” he barks like a drill sergeant.
“Go to hell,” I respond like a clueless new recruit.
Wrong thing to say. Down goes the comforter. Up goes Amanda. I screech as he secures me over his strong shoulder, my ass in the air, my legs pinned tight against his broad chest.
“Beast. Let me go.” My fists thud uselessly against his tight ass.
Jake rumbles a laugh. “Oh, I will.”
He dumps me unceremoniously in the shower, and before I can escape, he turns on the freezing cold water. With a wicked grin, he bolts and closes the door behind him, laughing when I yell obscenities at his departing back. “You are going to be so damn sorry.”
Half an hour later, showered and dressed for the first time in I don’t know how long, my “girly stuff,” aka makeup and hair, done, I descend the stairs. Jake is tapping a wall with a small hammer and muttering to himself about plaster.
“Ahem.”
He spins around and I pose for him in the only clean pair of jeans I own, a sparkly tank top, and kitten heels.
A grin splits his face. “Wow. You do clean up well.”
“Now it’s your turn.” I give him an evil smile before I drench him with the pitcher of freezing water I had been holding behind my back.
His shocked expression is worth the risk. His subtly raised eyebrow and menacing growl are not. Laughing, I race through the house, but my heels slide on the hardwood floor and Jake catches me around the waist before I can make it to the patio doors.
“You know better than that.” His fingers dig under my ribs, tickling me until I can barely breathe. My heart squeezes in my chest. This is how it used to be between us. Fun. Playful. Hot.
“Let me go.” I mock a growl. “You know I hate being tickled.”
His arms tighten around me and his lips brush over the sensitive skin of my neck sending a shiver down my spine. I try to wriggle away from his sodden clothes. I wiggle and wriggle.
“Amanda…stop.” His words are barely more than a pained whisper, but I freeze instantly and for the longest moment he holds me against him. His face buried in my hair. His heaving chest pressed against my back. His erection nestled into the crack of my ass.
Oh God.
“Sorry.” Pulse racing, I wrench myself away and half turn toward the stairs. “I’ll get you a towel.”
Before my brain has even processed that he has moved, I’m in his arms, my br**sts pressed tight against his rock-solid body.
“I have a towel,” he rasps, deep and low. “And she’s not running away.”
So hot. So hard. So utterly masculine. One slide of my body against his and my ni**les tighten into hard peaks. My blood turns molten, burning its way through my veins. No one has ever aroused me the way Jake does, and even after all this time, it is clear nothing has changed.
A shudder runs through me, but when I try to step away from the tormenting rub of his body against mine, he tightens his arm around my waist and threads his fingers through my hair, gently easing my head back until I am forced to look up into eyes as dark and stormy as the ocean.
“Fuck.” He growls the word, holding me so tight I can barely breathe.
My body trembles at the unexpected firmness of his touch. Jake in the bedroom was always gentle and fun. We traded pleasures equally, teased each other mercilessly, but never once did he push past my boundaries. We were partners in every sense of the word. But this Jake, dominant Jake—forceful, aggressive, and unpredictable—sends my desire to a whole new level.
“Jake.” His name emerges from my lips in a squeak of whisper as I press my hands against his chest. No longer am I the woman who just wants a good time and winds up in Hell, in its infinite variety of forms. For the first time, I want something more, and I won’t get that with the man I hurt. I couldn’t give myself to him before, why would anything be different now?
Shoving him back until he loosens his grip, I wiggle free. “I’ll get you that towel.”
“Amanda…”
Without looking back, I bolt up the stairs. I can’t be the fun, crazy girl he remembers. That girl would probably be having sex right now on the living room floor. She would be adding another page to Farnsworth’s blue file. She would know he was only teasing and in the morning, she would be alone.
***
“’Manda!”
Rampage throws his arms around me and gives me an enormous bear hug at the entrance to Redemption. “’Manda, ’manda, ’manda,” he chants, lifting me so high my feet leave the ground. “You’re okay!”
“It’s Amanda,” I say dryly. “And I’m okay thanks to you and the other guys.”
“Everybodddeeeee. ’Manda’s here!”
Damn.
“Actually, I was hoping to fly under the radar tonight and just…”
A stampede of fighters swarms me, cutting me off from any possible escape. I am squeezed, hugged, kissed on the cheek, and petted like a kitten while Jake watches from the corner, bemused. But when someone cops a feel of my ass, he dives into the fray and pulls me out.
