tight as she pulled him over the precipice with her, shattering like fine china and forever altering his reality.
Lying there spent, with Becca in his arms and his mind racing, he tried to put all the broken pieces back together.The woman had given him the best damn orgasm of his life. He’d known it would be good between them, but fuck . He’d never experienced anything like it before. She’d ignited at his touch like a gasoline fire.
“That was amazing,” he said, planting a kiss on her forehead as he climbed out of bed to dispose of the condom. Grabbing his boxers from the floor, he headed for the bathroom.
“It kind of was, wasn’t it?” She sighed and pulled the sheet over her breasts, stretching with feline grace.
“Yeah,” he called from the bathroom. “We should do it again.”
Jax slipped on his boxers and returned to the bedroom. Becca met him at the door, thrusting a pile of clothes into his arms.
“You have to go,” she said, grabbing his elbow and steering him toward the door.
The front door.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Shit. She wasn’t having regrets was she? The very idea made his skin crawl. “Talk to me, Becca.”
“What’s there to talk about?” she asked, giving him another panicky little shove toward the front door. “The sex was great, but that’s all it was. Sex. It doesn’t change anything between us.”
She opened the door and gestured for him to stepthrough it.
“What the fuck? Do you throw all your dates out naked?” he asked, temper flaring as he stomped into the hall. “Or just the ones who give you the best orgasms?”
Blood rushed to her cheeks, but she held her ground. “This wasn’t a date. Good night, Jax.”
Good night? Not likely. Maybe it had started off that way, but now he was standing half naked in a strange building,once again at Becca’s mercy. First the thing on the radio and now this? How many times did she need to humiliate him before she would accept his apology?
More importantly, how many times would he let her?
Stepping into his jeans, he promised himself this would be the last time Becca had the upper hand. He’d done her wrong, and she had every right to be upset about it, but no way inhell was she going to scare him off. If he wanted to get past her defenses, he’d just have to beat her at her own game.
Chapter Seven
“Quit harassing the baby fireman, Quinn.” Becca stole a quick glance at her friend between shots. The other woman was eyeing Mr. July like a cougar poised to strike. “That kid can’t be a day over twenty.”
“And yet he’s so good with a hose,” Quinn mused, keeping her eyes fixed on the water that trickled down his face and neck. Then again, it probably wasn’t hisface she was interested in. “Seriously. He can turn that hose on me any day.”
Clicking through Mr. July’s shots, she studied the images with a critical eye. His patriotism was sure to set some panties on fire come Fourth of July. Really, it was a wonder she’d been able to keep it together with so many stacked firefighters running around half naked. And if all those perfectly sculpted pecsand abs weren’t tempting enough in their natural state, Quinn had started rubbing the guys down with baby oil, leaving their muscles glistening under the bright lights.
She gave herself mental props for maintaining her composure in the face of so much hotness. Too bad she couldn’t say the same for Quinn, who’d been in a perpetual state of lust all day. The woman was on a mission to findout which of the models were single and ready to mingle—her exact words. Becca grinned. Only Quinn could get away with something so absurdly cheesy and still draw men like bees to a honeycomb. And as long as Quinn was focused on the guys, Becca could work in peace.
Win-win.
Quinn had spent the morning obsessing over how hot the guys were and what a sweet gig it was for Becca. She wasn’twrong, but it was distracting to say the least. Especially with thoughts of
Terry Spear
Allan Leverone
Saud Alsanousi
Braxton Cole
Megan Lindholm
Derek Robinson
J.D. Cunegan
Veronica Henry
Richmal Crompton
Audrey Carlan