Fun With Rick and Jade (7 page)

“Go ahead. Kiss me.” She didn’t care for the taste of anyone else’s juices on her lips, but didn’t mind her own. Besides, she’d been way too long without affection—real or negotiated.

He closed the gap and kissed her deeply. Their lips fused, tongues mixed and churned. He swept his tongue through her mouth like he was on a treasure hunt. When he finished with the inside of her mouth, he licked and nipped at her lips, her jaw, her neck.

Breaking apart, she licked her lips. “Yum.” Although Jade agreed with him, preferring her natural taste to the imitation strawberry flavor. The yum was something said to reassure a man’s fragile ego.

He rolled off her onto the mattress. “That’s my line.”

Jade threw her trembling legs over the side of the bed, sat upright, and waited for her head to clear.

“Where are you going?”

“Coral will be waking soon.” The baby was a handy excuse. Jade had come on a mission. Mission accomplished. “Thank you very much.”

“Don’t go.” His knuckles cut a path along her back, nearly convincing her to stay. “I’ll keep my ears open for her.”

She scoffed. “You’ll be asleep in five, four, three, two, one.” Glancing over her shoulder at him, she smiled. “I’m impressed you’re still awake.” She seized the robe from the floor and slid into it.

“I wish you’d stay.” He sounded quite sincere, probably wanting an instant replay in the morning. Or something worse.

Cuddler
. Pushing off the bed, she rambled toward the door on wobbly legs. “See you tomorrow.”

After a shower, Rick stuffed himself into his faded jeans and a black T-shirt he’d worn yesterday, before donning the tuxedo. Barefoot and with his hair still wet, he wandered down the hall.
Where is everyone?
He imagined Jade sharing girl talk over morning coffee with Candy about the amazing wedding-night orgasm he’d given her. He didn’t like to kiss and tell, but if she did, he totally supported her decision and hoped Candy would blab the tale to Bob. As a kid, he’d always idolized his brother, who in turn disregarded him as a pest.

The drawback to bragging—Bob would claim credit for putting the two of them together. He might throw in an “I told you so” for good measure.

Happy cooing sounds sprang from the nursery. He poked his head inside.
No Jade
. Her bed was unmade. Her robe lay tossed at the foot of her bed. Reeled in by the robe, he touched the silky fabric. He picked it up and inhaled her flowery scent.

Coral stopped cooing and began to fuss. He tiptoed over, grasped the rail, and peered into the crib.

“Good morning, Coral,” he said softly. Lying on the mattress, she drooled on her digits. He touched her bottom. “You need to grow out of this bed-wetting nonsense.” Children needed goals and expectations to live up to. Something he and his brother had gone without as kids.

Rick had oriented himself to the changing table last night. It was idiot-proofed with diapers, wet wipes, powder, and ointment lined up in order of importance. Probably for Bob and Candy’s benefit. Clothes were another matter. Opening a dresser drawer, he found sexy panties. No baby clothes. He quickly shut the drawer before Jade caught him rummaging through her underwear. He finally found some baby clothes in a cardboard box. Changing Coral’s diaper was a breeze. Dressing her was like dressing a cat, or so he guessed. Growing up, he’d never been allowed a pet. In adulthood, he’d never allowed himself a furry companion, a little afraid he’d neglect the life out of it.

He cradled the baby in his arms. “Let’s find Mommy, shall we?”
Why am I talking baby talk?
He’d always said if he ever had children, he’d talk to them like people. Rational and logical. Just reason with them. She gurgled and blew spit bubbles at him as he bounced down the stairs. “Maybe Mommy will show us her boobies,” he said, also in baby talk.

“Grow up.” Jade stood centered in the living room with an industrial-sized garbage bag half full of trash. She wore a halter top and denim shorts.
Hot, hot, hot
. Her feet were bare and beautiful and looking like a work of functional art. He wondered when feet had begun looking sexy to him.

Now
.

“You should recycle.” He leaned in to steal a kiss.

She sideswiped his effort, nearly causing him to kiss the back of her head. “You should stop daydreaming about my boobies and help me. The cleaning girl will be here anytime now.”

Blinking rapidly through a severe bout of confusion, he asked, “Then why are you cleaning?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve been paying attention, darling, but I find myself embroiled in a custody battle.” She planted one hand on her hip; one hand grasped the bag. “I don’t need my babydaddy’s scumbag lawyer calling Bob and Candy’s cleaning lady to the stand to tell the judge about all the empty beer cans and liquor bottles scattered around the house.”

He scanned the area. Not an ideal landscape for raising children, he had to agree. “Where are Bob and Candy?”

“On
our
honeymoon.” Jade plucked a paper plate off the coffee table. “Mexico. One of those short repositioning cruises.”

He winked at her. “I hope they drink the water.”

“Stop it.” She fought a chuckle. “You and I are the lord and lady of this manor, which from what Bob and Candy said is way nicer than your crappy apartment. I suspect it’s also cleaner, but not clean enough.”

He guessed they weren’t going to talk about the wild sex last night, his subject of choice. “How about you stand there looking pretty and hold the bag open wide with both hands and I’ll be in charge of tossing.” He winked at her again, since it worked so well the first time.

“Sounds like a man,” she mumbled. “Always tossing.”

“Ah.” Rick pointed his finger at her. Her mind worked like a steel trap, missing nothing. Her wit and cynicism hit quick as a lightning bolt. But way more painful, and she almost always struck twice. “Careful now. Lighten up on the man jokes.”

She shook her head. “What have you done to my kid?”

He assessed the baby in his arms. “Why? What do you mean?”

“Those are the clothes she’s outgrown.” She let out an exaggerated sigh, denoting her annoyance with him. “I boxed them up to get rid of them.”

“Outgrown? She’s not big enough to have outgrown anything,” he protested, although he had dressed her like a refugee. Nothing matched and on closer inspection, nothing fit. Probably the reason dressing her had been such a challenge.

“Picture her coming out of here.” She pointed in the general direction of her vagina. Abandoning the trash bag, she stepped closer and held her arms out to rescue her daughter from becoming a fashion victim, or worse. “When are your out-of-town guests coming?”

“This afternoon.” He handed Coral over. A chill filled the warm spot she’d occupied. Stale beer smell replaced the scent of baby lotion. “We’re meeting them at their hotel for drinks at six, if that’s okay with you.” He wasn’t sure what he’d do if it wasn’t okay with her. Nothing, probably. Clearly she was going to lead him around like a dog on a leash, occasionally tossing him a treat.
Works for me
. That’s roughly how he imagined marriage worked.

“Six?” Her eyes narrowed and her brow knit together. “No one has drinks at six.”

“To be fair, to them it’s more like nine.” To fill the void of silence, he added, “There’s a time difference between east and west coast.” His head bobbed left to right to emphasize his point.

Anger flashed in her eyes. “I understand the concept of time zones, Rick.”

Someone’s in a mood
. He’d expected some sort of orgasm-induced euphoria lasting hours, if not days. He hoped the effect would have a crack-cocaine-like quality, bringing her back to his bed with increased frequency until she needed an intervention or vaginal rejuvenation.

Jade kissed the top of Coral’s head before placing her in her wind-up swing. “Quick clean up, and then I need to nurse her before we go to your hair appointment.”

He knitted his brows together. “Hair appointment?”

“You look positively rural, Rick.” She eyeballed him head to toe. “I can’t have it.”

“Didn’t bother you last night.” He hated the hurt in his voice, not to mention the bruise to his ego. It was high school all over again.
Girls don’t make passes at guys who wear glasses
. Thank God for contacts. Not even contacts lenses could have gotten him a date with the likes of her in high school. She wouldn’t have even let him steal a kiss in elementary school.

“It was dark last night,” she shot back at him.

Zap!
He clutched at his heart like she’d mortally wounded him. “I think I smell scorched flesh.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She returned to collecting garbage. “Listen, I don’t want to talk about last night. Got it?”

In his mind he heard the slamming of a heavy-duty door.
Topic closed for discussion
. “Are you kidding me? I knocked it out of the park last night.” He went so far as to mimic swinging at an invisible ball with his imaginary bat. “It’s all I want to talk about.” With her. With Bob. With total strangers. “Besides, you started it.”

“I started it?” Her eyes bugged open. “You started it with that kiss.”

“And you ended it with a bang.” He braced for a slap that never came.

“Listen, I need a husband. You need a wife. I suffered from a moment of weakness. End of story. I appreciate your work ethic, if not your staying power. I assure you, Rick, I’ll work as hard to be a convincing spouse.” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s go. Chop, chop.”

“If I’m moving in here for the duration, I need to go pack some things.” And warm up from the cold shoulder she was giving him. “I have work to do at my office. And I need to return my tux.”

“A rental,” she muttered. “I knew it.” She blew out a deep breath that told him she’d sooner beat him about the head and chest with a hot curling iron than look at him. It also told him she needed to get laid again. “If you want this to work, you need to do as I say.”

“Is there some way we can compromise?” He had a feeling he’d be the one compromising.

“Yes, Rick, go return the tux. Heaven forbid you get charged an extra day.” Jade flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Pack a bag. Do…whatever.” She shooed him away. “Be back here by one o’clock.” There was an unsaid
or else
that he heard loud and clear.

He saluted her. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

She sneered at him. “It’s a full-service salon. Would you like to get a little manscaping done while we’re there?” Jade pointed at the vicinity of his button-fly.

“Are you suggesting—” His balls stung. “I’m a man, not a…a…porn star.”

She shrugged. “Just a thought.”

“Well, think again.” He turned to walk away. Experiencing one of those light-bulb moments, he spun back around to face her. “If I do, can we have sex again?”

“No!” She balled up her fists. “I’m a mother, not a sex object. Deal with it.”

***

Jade concentrated on her newly painted nails, her cheap gold band, and then turned her attention to the street person pushing his shopping cart along the sidewalk outside the car window. Anything to keep from looking at Rick sporting his stylish, new haircut. If not for the dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and the somewhat slighter frame, he’d be a dead ringer for Ewan. If Rick was ten years older or Ewan ten years younger, that was. Otherwise—twins. And Rick had that cute dimple when he grinned. But if not for the dimple and a faint scar above his eyebrow, the resemblance was uncanny, and unnerving. Rick was Ewan’s doppelgänger, or vice versa. Either that or she was obsessed with Ewan, romanticizing his charm and good looks because he’d fertilized her.
Damn hormones
.

“I still can’t believe someone has the nerve to charge fifty bucks plus a tip to snip a few hairs off my head.” He ran his hand over his short cut. “And how much were your nails? I couldn’t even look at the bill. I signed the damn credit card receipt with my eyes closed.”

“And your mouth open.” He’d complained about the money to anyone and everyone who would listen. “I told you I’d give you a hand job later, and let’s just say you’d be getting the better end of that deal.”

“Yes,” he droned. “Thanks for that. Right in front of everyone like I’m some sort of pervert who has to pay for sex. No offense to your distinguished clientele.”

“Stop being so dramatic, Rick.” She couldn’t help but chuckle. “They knew I was joking.” She’d been going to the same salon for years. They all knew her and “got” her sense of humor.

“What, so now I’m not going to get the hand job?” He lifted his shades so she could see his laughing eyes. Rick waggled his eyebrows at her. “Maybe I can write the nails off as a business expense,” he muttered, his shades back in place.

“I’m a wife, not a business expense,” she protested, but knew she was neither.

He thought it was all fun and games now, Jade mused, but when the fog of attraction wore off, her past profession would eat away at his soul. Been there, done that, with a variety of former boyfriends. Every guy wanted to date a hooker or a stripper or a porn star until they actually did; then they added it to their sexual resume and dumped her for the girl-next-door type they always married. Reason number one for avoiding a repeat of last night. It was decided. Reason number two: she could get used to his attention to detail in the sack, missing it like a favorite limb when they inevitably parted.

Basically that had been
her
previous business plan. Give the client what he couldn’t get anywhere else, thereby making herself indispensable, invaluable, and irreplaceable. Repeat clients had been her bread and butter. Her impressive income boiled down to a dozen or so regulars with an occasional newbie now and again to keep her on her toes. And here she was falling for the same routine in the form of Rick Jette, who gave great head, as unbelievable as that seemed. Looking at him, she would have guessed the one thing he did well and did often would be whacking off.