Famously Engaged (7 page)

His clothes hit the floor almost before she’d finished speaking, but reality tiptoed across the edges of his mind as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her pants. “Beth, we have a problem. I wasn’t expecting—”

“Top drawer of the coffee table. They’re gift-wrapped.” She

gave a strangled laugh. “Please don’t ask why.”

He reached over, retrieved the box, and gave it to her to

unwrap while he finished undressing her. Encircling both ankles

with his hands, he coaxed them apart so he could kneel between

her legs. He sucked in a breath when she raised her knees, his heart galloping so fast he feared it would explode. How long had it been since anyone had wanted more than bragging rights from sleeping with him? Eight years. A lifetime? So long he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be welcomed and nurtured and valued.

“Do I want to know what’s so important that you had to stop

and think about it
now
?”

“I was wondering if there might be a hidden clause somewhere

that would make our engagement real and binding.”

“Good answer. But that’s enough talking. And looking.”

“What about touching? Are you going to ban that, too?”

A sweet smile curved her lips. “What would you be doing if

you weren’t talking or looking?”

She shook as he traced a meandering path up the inside of her

thighs. Finding her wet and ready, he nudged his knee against her moist heat. When she arched her back and rubbed against him, a powerful surge of clarity shot through him. It wasn’t enough for him to take pleasure. He wanted to give it, wanted this to be a place she could revisit in her mind when she needed a moment’s

respite.

He ripped the small foil packet open and sheathed himself,

one palm flattening over her stomach to hold her steady while

he probed gently and backed off. Soft green eyes held his gaze,

widening when he slipped up through her damp folds to tease

her clit with his hard length. Making her wait hadn’t been on his agenda, but he couldn’t resist. His lifestyle didn’t allow for lasting attachments. This opportunity to make sweet love with this woman who was now his fiancée, however tenuous and brief their

engagement was, might be a once-only deal. He wasn’t rushing it

for anyone.

“Jake, please.”

He circled his hand on her stomach, barely moving, his

outstretched fingers skimming over her curls. His control was

slipping, but it seemed important to voice the thought uppermost in his mind. “You’re my fiancée.”

Beth shook her head. “You’re mine.”

If only that were true.
He slid into her in one long stroke, then flexed to let her know there wouldn’t be a moment’s respite.

Staying with her for more than a few days was out of the question, but he was here now. And there was nothing fake about this moment.

One of Beth’s hands had fisted in the rock-god hair that she

claimed not to like. That level of acceptance was what separated Beth from every other woman he knew. He trailed his lips up her neck to her ear. “You’re not mussing up my hair, are you?”

She mussed it on purpose. It made his day, but he feigned

retaliation. He slid his arm beneath one of her knees and gave a murmur of triumph when she breathed his name and locked her ankles together behind him. For the first time in his life he wanted to give a commentary, but he couldn’t find the words to describe how closely this resembled his idea of the perfect night in.

Despite his earlier resolve to push her straight over the

edge, he stilled, giving her a moment to catch her breath. But she wouldn’t allow it. She urged him on and he gladly surrendered his entire length to her again and again, giving her what she wanted, what she craved, what her body was telling him she needed. His tongue invaded her mouth, dominating her, thrusting arrogantly

because she was so soft and feminine. Her response was coy,

gentle, almost shy, yet he could tell she was biding her time until it suited her to respond in kind. When she changed tactics he almost lost his mind.

The battle for control was an odd one, because he yielded

to her as often as she did to him. He understood her edge of

desperation, knew why she wanted to climb right into his skin.

He wanted to keep her suspended there for as long as possible,

to delay the heartache that awaited her when coherent thought

returned.

She dragged her mouth away from his. “Jake? I want—”

“Ask nicely.”

Her head shook, her voice breathless as she replied. “Read

my hips.”

Her hips?
The story they told was mesmerizing. His hips rocked in time with hers, and her short nails dug into his back as her pleasure intensified. He built on it, slipping his hands beneath her bottom to hold her closer, and he claimed her mouth in a soulful kiss. Holding on much longer wasn’t going to be possible.

This incredible tension surging through them, arcing back and

forth like untamed lightning, was bound to release or consume

them within seconds. Beth’s body bowed beneath him and she

screamed into his mouth as she rocketed into a powerful climax

and dragged him along with her.

The rush was so great his head spun, every nerve in his body

celebrating at once as she took and gave more than he’d prepared for. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and let the heated scent of her skin soothe him as he rode out the wave.

Reluctant to move, he stayed where he was for long minutes

afterward, shifting only his arms so he could support his upper

body on his forearms. His heart rate returned to normal but Beth’s remained erratic. He grazed his teeth across her bare sholder and anticipated the smile she’d aim at him when he summoned the strength to lift his head. The slight tremors that vibrated through her body made him feel smug until she spoke.

“I put the chain on the front door last night and disconnected

the doorbell, but I think I can hear knocking.”

Her voice was thick with tears and his world flipped inside

out when he realized she’d been crying within the safety of his

arms. While he’d been congratulating himself for vanquishing

her demons, albeit temporarily, they’d attacked her from another direction. What kind of fiancé was he if he couldn’t protect her at zero range? He curled one hand around her cheek and searched for something appropriate to say. Words failed him, but touching his forehead to hers felt right, and so did the way her shaky breaths drifted over his lips.

Maybe if he stayed completely still, time would actually freeze.

It seemed to work at first, but then she pushed her flattened palms against his chest. “There it is again.”

“No one’s at the door, Beth. I hired a security firm to patrol

the external perimeter, and the media won’t break ranks without

being certain I’m here. Why don’t we discuss what’s happening in this room before we concern ourselves with what’s outside.”

The noise she made told him what she thought about that

idea. “If news of our engagement has reached Brad, even a highly trained army of ninjas won’t keep him away. Can you please move before he breaks the door down and invites the press inside?”

“Shh. Keep calm.” He pressed a kiss against her temple and

eased back, blinking as she rolled out from beneath him, sat up, and dragged his favorite shirt over her head without a second’s pause. A deep frown drew her brows down as she assessed their

clothing strewn all over the floor.

Her agitation didn’t make any sense. It was almost as if

nothing would be worse than Brad arriving to find them together.

Their recent intimacy, the ruins of her life, and the implications of their public engagement all paled in comparison to her ex-husband’s opinion.

“Stop for a second and talk to me. At least let me ease the

tension in your shoulders.”

“I need a shower and a minute to myself before I can deal

with Brad, so you’re going to have to play host again.” One small hand swiped a few tears from each side of her face, but she kept talking as if they were the least of her problems. “Don’t forget to put something on before you answer the door. Oh, and our story is that we ate soup, then I cooked while you slept. That last part’s important. Don’t deviate from the script, okay?”

Her face was flushed and the way she was stuffing the evidence

of their tryst into the oversize ottoman would’ve been funny if she wasn’t so worked up. He grinned as she tried to conceal his jeans under a quilt while he stood nearby in the nude. “Relax, Beth, you worry too much. Do you need a hand with those jeans?”

“The quilt is the problem.” She tossed one end of it to him.

“This quick tidy-up isn’t vanity or good housekeeping, it’s pure damage control. I’m not ready to field questions about you, especially not the kind of questions Brad will ask if the room

screams one-night-stand when he arrives. He has no boundaries

whatsoever and I predict a situation so awkward you’ll wish you’d folded the damn quilt faster to avoid it.”

Jake’s insides twisted at her level of familiarity with the other man, and jealousy made his tongue sharp. “Last night Brad was your beloved ex-husband, and now he’s just a friend?” He tilted

his head toward the couch. “How much couch-surfing will it take

to get him out of your life altogether?”

Beth’s stomach plummeted as reality slammed through her. Jake was a tender and considerate lover, but driving a wedge between her and Brad had been his motivation for sleeping with her.

Falling in with Jake’s plans so easily made her an idiot, but he was a heartless jerk.

“No comment? What about money? Is there a sum that’d convince you to limit contact with Brad? Shall I guess?”

“Are you capable of such deep thought? My experience of rock gods is that they have overinflated egos, faulty moral compasses, and small IQs.”

Desperate to put some distance between them, she tugged the quilt out of his hands and tossed it aside before dropping to her knees and pressing a hasty kiss in the vicinity of his ankle.

She figured it would translate as thank-you-for-sharing-your— almighty-rock-god-body-with-me, and bring an end to their night together, but when she looked up he seemed stunned.

“Did you just kiss my foot?”

A new voice joined the conversation. “Did you just sleep with my wife?”

“Ugh! Cut it out, Brad! You can choose between being family or being my best friend but you no longer have the right to refer to me as your wife. People get the wrong idea.”

“He doesn’t appreciate the difference,” Jake said. “What was once his always will be his.”

She snatched up the quilt and smacked it against Jake’s middle, gratified by the
oomph
sound he made and the wince that accompanied it. “Make use of that, and try not to provoke my
ex,
because he has a mean left hook.”

She scrambled to her feet and tried to ignore Jake’s grumbling and Brad’s disappointment as his gaze swept over her.

“If you’re here, I guess there aren’t a million reporters out front?”

Brad’s rumble of disgust translated well. “You couldn’t have sent me a longer text last night? Given me a few more details to work with? Answered your phone this morning? This isn’t what I expected to find when I got here.”

Keen to redirect his thoughts, she waved her hand in the air between them. “If it’s crazy outside, how did you get in?”

“Van,” he said. “I figured you’d have cooked so I called Tom at the Communal Larder and promised him the food for various charities, and then I borrowed one of his vans and charged straight over.”

“Try to imagine the room’s in order, we’re fully dressed, andyou’ve walked in on—”

 “Don’t elaborate.” Brad paced a few steps, then returned to where he’d been. “This guy, Beth?”

She glared at him but he continued.

“I’ve introduced you to dozens of eligible men and you’ve never once hooked up. You don’t flirt or accept second dates, and they’re lucky if they get a chaste kiss at the end of the evening. I thought all of that was depressing until you chose Casanova-on-steroids to break the drought.”

A hot tide of anger surged up and her hand connected with the side of his face for the first time ever.

Jake’s arms encircled her from behind and he drew her back against him, his breath warming her ear. “I think I prefer Rock God or Famous Man.”

She couldn’t see Jake’s face, but the furious look on Brad’s warned that things were about to escalate.

To her surprise it was Jake who spoke first. “Give us a minute, Brad.”

In contrast to Jake’s calm, Brad sputtered and hissed, tension radiating off him as his hands curled into fists.

The urge to lean deeper into Jake’s embrace was strong, but she stepped forward instead and eyed the door before addressing Brad. “I’ve never wanted to star in a locker room conversation and I know you grill my dates for details. Your overprotectiveness is one of the many reasons I’ve stopped going on those dates. As for Famous Man”—she gestured at Jake—“I didn’t stand a chance against him because he’s a rock god who seduces every woman he meets. His sole reason for being here is to ensure the eyes of the entire world are on me in the lead-up to your wedding so that I won’t be tempted to hook back up with you. A fake engagement might seem a tad excessive, but he’s very dedicated to the cause. There’s almost nothing he won’t do. Including me.”

Her exit looked assured but Jake’s voice made her pause in the doorway. She didn’t bother turning around. “That shirt’s priceless, Beth. I don’t want it out of my sight.”

“Fine. You can have it.” The words were muffled as she dragged the shirt up over her head. Letting it fall to the floor, she stalked toward the bathroom in the nude.

…

Brad cleared his throat. “Hell, there’s an image I can’t press delete on. You couldn’t have let her have the shirt?”