AllTangledUp (3 page)

“Chef and mechanic.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Your
mother was a lucky lady.”

“Yeah.” Too bad she hadn’t thought so. Jesse’s good mood
dampened a bit, but he pushed aside that old bitterness. His father had been
dead for years, and his mother had left long before that. It was all long over.
Done.

Lola tilted her head, glancing at him while she ate, as if
she wasn’t sure what to make of his sudden terseness. When she didn’t question
him about it, he breathed a sigh of relief. They fell into a companionable
silence while they finished their dinners.

She set aside her plate, picking up her wine to drink. “So,
tell me about you.”

“We’re getting personal, are we?” He flashed a sinful grin,
letting his gaze slide over her naked body. Having her curled up beside him
nude had been almost too much to resist during dinner, but he had her all
weekend. He had some time to relish the slow burn of anticipation. “Wouldn’t it
be easier if we just stuck to the sex?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done just sex before. And maybe I
like to know what I’m dealing with.” Her shoulder dipped in a shrug. “Start
with something easy. Tell me about your tattoo.”

He grabbed the back of the couch for leverage, leaned
forward a little, and twisted to let her look at it. “I got it in Japan. I
studied there for a year in high school.”

“Oh yeah?” She ran her finger along one of the shapes on his
back, he thought the top of the koi. “You got that while you were in high
school?”

“I was eighteen.” Barely old enough to know his head from
his ass, but he’d never regretted getting the tattoo.

“Eighteen? Wouldn’t that have been your senior year? You
didn’t miss having your senior year with your friends?”

“No.” He snorted. “I was happy to go and my parents were
happy to send me.” Tension flooded his muscles when he could all but feel her
curiosity pique. Yep, getting personal was a bad idea. His hand fisted on the
leather sofa, and he forced his fingers to loosen.

Her nails tapped against his spine. “Why?”

Sighing, he made himself answer. This was old news. It was
just…being around a woman like Lola was stirring everything up. His usual type
tended more toward one-nighters with barflies—women who wore their hair too big
and their clothes too tight. Nothing like his mother. Or Lola.

“That was the year my parents split up for good. It had been
building for a long time—Mom left and came back, left and came back.” And Jesse
was pretty sure his dad had spent the rest of his life waiting for her to come
back again. “But things had gotten a lot worse, and I was just as glad not to
stick around and watch the end. I got the tattoo when I found out my mother had
filed for divorce.” He cleared his throat. Old news or not, he wished they were
talking about something else.
Anything
else but this. “This tat style is
called Irezumi. It’s done by hand, and you have to find a master who’ll do it.
Only they make themselves hard to find because tattooing in Japan used to be a
way to mark criminals, so it’s still a little taboo.”

She hesitated, as if she wanted to protest the topic change,
but she didn’t. Her fingertip drew a curved line up his back until she reached
the top of the tattoo at his neck. Goose bumps broke out on his flesh at her
touch and his cock twitched in reaction to her nearness. She toyed with the
hair at his nape. “I didn’t even know there were different schools of thought
about tattoos, other than those who like them and those who don’t.”

“I take it you’re in the ‘those who don’t’ category.” He
settled into his seat, untwisting from the slightly awkward position.

She rocked her hand back and forth through the air. “I don’t
dislike them, but I don’t want one. My sister has a couple, and my uncle has a
big one on his arm. Everyone seems to have them now. I think I’m one of the few
hold-outs left in the world.”

“My dad didn’t have one, but Uncle Gary does. Dean has one
too, on his leg.”

She hesitated again. “I’ve never really heard you talk about
any family but your cousin and his parents. Do you see your mom often?”

“Not since she bailed. She got in touch after she started
seeing me on TV, but it wasn’t any kind of genuine interest in reuniting, just
a money thing. Mom’s always been high maintenance, liked the finer things in
life and having people admire her.” Like Lola, in her fancy clothes and using
her pretty face and sexy body to get what she wanted. His mother had the same
beauty and tactics. “She traded up after she left my dad.”

Her face flooded with sympathy he didn’t want. A lot of
people had it worse than he did, and his life was just fine, thanks. But her
gaze had gone soft with compassion. “That’s really sad.”

“It is what it is.” He pushed to his feet, grabbing their
empty plates. “Enjoy the rest of your wine while I clean up.”

Conversation over. Probably not the best way to get laid
again, running away from the woman he wanted to shag, but he wasn’t a fan of
digging into the past. It was, by definition, over. He didn’t dwell on it. It
wasn’t that he had a problem talking to Lola about
himself
. If she
wanted to know something, it was fine. But they didn’t need to bring up his
parents. His parents weren’t him and he wasn’t them. He tried not to think
about his mom very often, and that had proven impossible with Lola around for
comparison.

He took the dishes to the kitchen, washed them, stored the
leftovers and wiped down the counters so the crumbs wouldn’t attract any of the
insects and other pests that lived in the woods. He’d learned that lesson the
hard way the first time he’d come here without his dad.

Lola’s glass clinked against the counter as she set it down.
“Listen, Jesse… I didn’t mean to press on a sore point. I was just curious and
I wanted…” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I wanted. I’m sorry.”

She’d put her clothes back on. Her shirt was haphazardly
buttoned, but she was dressed. Damn it.

“I prefer to focus on the here and now.” He blew out a
breath, turning to settle back against the sink. “I can change the now. Can’t
do anything about the past.”

Her brows furrowed and she shook her head. “The past defines
us and makes us who we are.”

“I try not to let it define me. I like to think I can always
change, and I’m not stuck with whatever the past dished out to me.” He ran a
finger along the neckline of her shirt, down to where it met the curve of her
cleavage. Her breath caught, her nipples jutting against the fabric. He
grinned. “Besides, the here and now seems pretty good to me.”

She licked her lower lip, leaning into his touch. “I can’t
argue with you there.”

“Well, then.” He bent forward and kissed her collarbone,
savoring her female scent and the heat that began to pour through his body.
“Since we agree on that, what would you like to do with our now?”

A chuckle bubbled out of her. “It’s not very sexy, but…I’d
really like to use a bathroom. And then have you give me a tour of the
bedroom.”

He snorted, nipping her earlobe with his teeth before he
stepped back. “That can be arranged. Bathroom is the first door off the
hallway, bedroom’s at the end of the hall. I’ll get your bag and meet you on
the mattress.”

That made her laugh that smoky laugh of hers. She rose on
tiptoe and popped a kiss on his mouth. “Thanks, sugar.”

Sugar. That was the second time she’d called him that. He
wasn’t accustomed to pet names from women, and he’d never have figured Lola as
the kind to use them. It was odd, but not bad.

He wandered into the living room and scooped up her duffel
and his discarded clothes, locking the front door—something they’d overlooked
when fucking against the wall. At least they’d made it inside. Then again, the
nearest neighbors were a couple of miles away, so they weren’t likely to be
caught. There was a fun possibility to consider.

He could hear the water running in the sink was as he walked
by the bathroom door. Dropping her bag with his on the floor by the bed, he
tossed his clothes into the hamper.

“Wow, you packed heavier than I did.” Lola came into the
room, finger-combing her long hair. She nodded to the two bags he had compared
to her one.

He chuckled, pointing to the larger of the satchels. “That
one’s not clothes. Take a look.”

Eyebrows arching, she lifted the duffel onto the end of the
bed and unzipped it, her brown eyes going wide. “Well, hot damn.”

The bag was full of an assortment of naughty toys and other
sexual goodies. He watched her rifle through the contents, and couldn’t keep a
wicked smile off his face as her cheeks went rosy pink. He didn’t think he’d
ever seen her blush before.

She pulled out a set of handcuffs and a feather tickler. Her
chin jutted pugnaciously. “Do I get to use some of this on you, too?”

The question surprised and pleased him. He laughed. “Sure.
Whatever turns you on.”

The cuffs jingled musically in her fingers as her gaze
dropped to them, and she bit her lower lip. “Huh.”

“What?” He sat down on the bed, pulling one leg up onto the
mattress.

A little half smile twisted her mouth. “I’ve never had a guy
focus on what turns
me
on. Don’t get me wrong, I had fun and so did
they, but I’ve always known part of what got them off was having someone who
looked like me in their bed. I was a conquest for them.”

Her candor was refreshing. He liked that she didn’t dance
around the topic, which was one thing that made her nothing like his mom.
“Sounds like a bunch of assholes.”

“In the end, yeah. They did leave me wanting, in more ways
than one.” She tilted her head, her eyes crinkling. “I like to tell my sister
that guys want to own me or bone me. Or both.”

“Assholes,” he repeated. Though didn’t he fit neatly into
one of those categories? He fought a wince. At least he didn’t fall into both.
He’d never wanted to own a woman in his life. Most of the time, he was fine
with seeing them go after a bit of fun. He did feel the need to justify himself
a little, which almost never happened. “You’re not a conquest to me. I like the
way you look, but if there wasn’t a whole lot of chemistry between us, it
wouldn’t matter if you were the most gorgeous woman alive.”

Though she just might be. He’d never seen a woman more
beautiful than her. But he hadn’t lied. He wouldn’t be diving into bed with a
coworker just because she was pretty. It was because the sparks were too hot to
resist. Which still didn’t make it a smart move, but it would be over and done
in a couple days.

He nodded toward the toys in her hands. “What do you want to
play with first?”

The grin that bloomed on her face made him smile, and the
way she began pulling out sex toys to consider them just got him hot. His cock
stiffened as he watched her, and he leaned back against the headboard to enjoy
the show. The cool bars of the old brass bed bit into his shoulders but he
ignored the discomfort. Sliding his hand down his belly, he let his fingers
stroke over the length of his dick while she fondled a long dildo. When she
glanced up at him, saw how he touched himself, she drew in a quick breath. Her
hand clenched around the dildo. “Oh my.”

He grinned, rolling his thumb over the head of his cock.
“See something you like?”

Her gaze darkened as it locked on what he was doing. “Y’all
know how to make an impression, sugar.”

“Your accent gets thicker when you’re turned-on.” His heart
hammered in his ears, his breathing picking up speed. “Take your clothes off.”

Yes, he wanted her naked again. Preferably for every single
minute of this weekend. He saw no reason for them to leave the bed. Who needed
food anyway? Sex was much more important. Especially sex with Lola.

She slipped the first few buttons free on her top, then
tugged it over her head and tossed it on top of her bag. Her shoes and skirt
came next, and then her underwear. He groaned as her breasts were freed and he
saw how taut her nipples were. Just right for sucking. She wriggled her hips a
little as she pushed down her panties, and he licked his lips as her creamy
cunt came into view. “Come here.”

“Not yet.” Her voice was a breathless rush. “Don’t stop
playing with yourself. I want to watch. I want to play with you too.”

He palmed his dick for her, stroking the length of it. “Is
this what you want?”

Now it was her turn to lick her lips, and she nodded. She
picked up the feather tickler and slid the end of it up the inside of his
thigh. His muscles clenched at the sensation, anticipating where she was going
to touch him with the toy.

“So many fun places I could start.” The grin that lit her
face was as mischievous as it was naughty. “Hm. Maybe I should see what it
feels like.”

Pulling the toy away, she ran the tip of it from her ankle
to her calf and up her thigh. She shivered, her nipples beading to hard points.

Jesus. He had to take his hand off his cock or he was going
to come before he got inside her. And he wanted inside her, wanted that tight
sheath squeezing around his dick.

“Now you,” she said. Dancing the feather up his leg again,
she bypassed his cock to circle his navel, then drifted upward to tease his
nipples. The discs tightened and he choked on a breath.

“Nice.” Humming, she leaned forward to flick her tongue
across one flat nipple, grazing it with her teeth.

“Yes, lick me. Anywhere you want.” He knew exactly where he
wanted that talented mouth of hers.

Chuckling, she straightened and ran the feather up to caress
his throat and jaw, then tickled the end of his nose. He snorted and turned his
face away. “Brat.”

“Maybe a little.” She zoomed the feather down his body and
slid it straight up his shaft. The sensation was tickling and pleasurable and
fucking intense. He shuddered, forcing himself to relax and not to pounce on
her. She wanted to play, so he let her, but he wasn’t sure his cock had ever
been this hard before in his life. Stroking over the head of his dick, she
grinned when his cock jerked toward the touch of the toy. The feather soon grew
damp as beads of precum trailed from the head of his cock. He closed his eyes,
not sure how much more he could take.