Hotblooded (23 page)

She lifted her head, her hand still holding and stroking him. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you.” His hand that had cupped her breast, slid down over her rib cage, and hip bone. Then, his palm flat against her stomach, his fingers pointed toward the very center of all of her desire.

He was watching her face as his hand slid lower over the front of the dress. She gasped and let her head fall back against the wall. His lips touched her throat as his hand cupped her where she ached.

“Jack,” she moaned.

She felt the skirt being gathered up until his hand was resting against the silky front of her panties.

His fingers stroked over the black tulip that covered her and she felt dizzy. She grasped his forearm to steady herself and felt the muscles bunching in perfect rhythm with the sparks of sensation that were zinging through her.

The tension she’d felt all night knotted into a single ball directly under his hand and she felt like he was tying it tighter and tighter with each stroke. She struggled to press herself closer. “Jack,” she breathed against his lips.

He lifted his head and she opened her eyes.

“Please,” she begged.

Understanding dawned on his face and was then quickly replaced by intense desire.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said his hand stalling as he pulled back. “At least let me look at you.”

One hand lifted and pulled the strap of her dress down over her shoulder baring one breast. He shifted to let the other strap fall as well. “You’re so beautiful,” he rasped as he brushed his thumb over her nipple while the middle finger of his other hand pressed the sweet spot behind the black silk again.

She arched her back and suddenly the knot unraveled all at once. She felt the release, a sensational combination of pleasure and relief as she moaned his name. A moment later, she sagged against him, her forehead on his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her. He held her for several seconds as she struggled for breath.

Finally, she lifted her head, gratefulness and embarrassment washing over her in equal portions.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t wait… I shouldn’t have…” she blabbered.

“You damned well better not be sorry.”

“Thank you,” she said, without thinking. “I mean…that seemed appropriate, but…”

He lifted the straps of her dress back into place and covered her mouth with two fingers. “You’re
very
welcome. I …

The door to the theater burst open just then. Two teenage boys, evidently out for a popcorn refill, came in laughing. Then stopped short.

“Sorry, man,” one mumbled with a big, knowing grin.

“Way to go, buddy,” the other said, giving Jack a thumbs-up.

They proceeded into the theater but not without a glance back.

Brooke felt the skirt of her dress slip back into place over her thighs as Jack removed his hands. She hadn’t realized how high her dress had ridden. The air-conditioning on her legs certainly hadn’t registered. Nothing
cool
had registered.

He gave her a sheepish grin. “Got a little carried away.”

She took a deep breath, trying to slow the heart rate that was pounding so hard she could feel it in her head.

She wasn’t sure if it was racing from Jack’s influence or from the scare of being seen doing
that
in public.

Her lack of response made him bend slightly to study her face closer.

“It’s too dark for them to have seen much,” he said. “They were assuming a lot.”

Her eyes widened. They’d seen the
position
she and Jack had been in. Even two teenage boys, who waited for the love scene to go for popcorn, knew what they’d been doing.

“They assumed correctly,” she said. “Good grief, I must have lost my mind.” She lifted a hand to try to straighten her hair.

“I’m glad to have that effect on you.” He braced a hand on the wall next to her left ear. He looked like he was ready to resume where they left off.

She put a hand on his chest. “Whoa. Those were just two of a whole theater of people.”

“I doubt they’re all going to go for popcorn,” he said.

Her face heated with the thought of how close the two boys had been to seeing a whole lot more than a little leg. “The way we were going at it I’m not sure we’d hear them if there was a fire alarm and they all stampeded.”

He didn’t reply, but his grin said it all.

“You don’t have to look so smug.”

“You’ve been itching to kiss me since I showed up at your door,” he said smugly. “I’m just glad you finally did something about it.”

Aching, more than itching, she thought. “Well, if I kiss you it’s no one’s business but mine.” She sounded and felt cross.

He leaned forward, in spite of her hand on his chest. “Honey, it’s also very much
my
business.”

That look in his eyes told her clearly that he didn’t give a damn if they put it all on the Internet for the world to see.

That was dangerous.

The passion had fried his good sense.
She
had to take charge before they gave those teenagers, and maybe several adults, a real show for the admission price.

“We need to go,” she said, ducking under his arm and turning to the door.

“You know,” he said, right behind her, his hand pressing heavily on the door, keeping her from opening it, “you started this.”

She grimaced, her back still to him. “I know.”

“Just so we’re clear. You wanted this too.”

She wanted to ignore his words, or even deny them, or at least make an excuse. She turned to face him, but didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s hardly fair. You tricked me into going on this date. I’ve been confused since I got to the hotel.”

“Brooke,” he said calmly. “You knew about the date from practically the minute you got to the hotel. You certainly knew when you got dressed in that sexy dress and those skimpy panties.”

She swallowed hard. “I thought you hadn’t seen the clothes ahead of time.”

“I didn’t.”

“How did you know about the panties?”

“I just felt them.”

Oh, yeah. She took a deep breath. “These were the only option Carla left me.”

He smiled slowly. “Remind me to give her a raise.”

Brooke rolled her eyes.

“But I’m curious,” he went on. “What about the white panties you were wearing when you got to town?”

“What… How… Did you…”

His smile widened. “Good guess.”

She crossed her arms. “You think I’m a prude.”

“You try to be anyway.”

“Then why did you want to take me out tonight?”

His expression softened and he lifted his hand to her face. “Because you’re real for me.” He stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. “And you need that.”

His words hit her right in the heart and she pulled in a breath to keep the sob back.

Dammit.

She had officially fallen in love…with the first man to give her amazing sex and some nice gifts.

Just like her mom.

But
unlike
her mom she was going to end it before she lost every bit of pride—before she confessed how she felt.

“If I ask you to take me back to the hotel will you settle for a handshake at the door or should I call a cab?” she asked. If she slept with him tonight, the whole night, there was no way she could keep from confessing it all.

He stared at her for a few seconds. Then he shook his head. “A kiss.”

“Peck on the cheek?”

He shook his head again. “Full lips.”

“But a peck?”

“At least thirty seconds.”

“Ten.”

“Twenty.”

“Fine.”

He dug his car keys from his pocket as he pulled the theater door open and she stepped through.

“And everything after that is negotiable.”

She stopped. “
No
,” she said firmly. “Nothing else.”

He looked down at her, studying her eyes. “At least admit you
want
more.”

She surrendered that much. “I do.”

“You’ll think about me in bed tonight,” he predicted.

She sighed. “I’m sure you’re right.”

They walked to the car in silence, without touching. A few minutes later he pulled onto the street, changed lanes, then stopped at the stoplight.

“Kissing a guy who really likes you doesn’t mean you’re going to turn into your mother.”

She gaped at him. “
What
?”

He glanced at her. “You heard me.” He made a left turn and continued down the street, driving along as if they were discussing the weather.

She couldn’t believe how close he’d come to the truth.

He pulled into the circular drive in front of the hotel, which was part of the nicest gift anyone had ever given her. He shifted into park and ignored the valet for a moment as he put an arm along the back of the car seat.

“Kissing you because you gave me a fountain and a nice dress isn’t much better than the reasons my mom did what she did.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the one valet shrug at the other and lean back against a pillar to wait for them.

“I don’t believe that’s why you’d be doing it,” he said, his voice soft and husky. “And neither do you.”

“I believe I would be doing it because I’m genetically engineered to be a sucker for a hot guy who thinks I’m pretty.”

“Thank you. And pretty is a mild word for what I think about you.”

She shook her head. She would
not
tell him the real reason she wanted to kiss him—and more. She would not fall prey like her mom did to the sweet words, the sexy smiles, the idea that he wanted to take care of her. She would not be standing in the doorway watching him drive away. She would not cry over him.

If only she wanted to screw him for the sake of screwing him. Or if it was only for the gifts. That would be easier, more straightforward. Not exactly something to be proud of, but at least not heartbreaking when it was over. There were other guys who could buy her things.

But no, she had to be in love with him.

There was never going to be another Jack.

She slid toward the door and away from his hand.

“Goodnight, Jack.” She opened the door.

“Goodnight, Brooke.”

She turned back, slightly surprised by how easy that had been. “No arguments?”

He leaned toward her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her across the seat and into his arms. “I don’t want to
argue
with you,” he said just before his mouth took hers.

What they’d agreed would be a twenty-second touching of the lips quickly became an erotic takeover of every nerve ending in her body. He pulled away a few minutes later.

She was still breathing hard when she climbed from the car on wobbly legs and managed to remember which room was hers—after asking the front desk.

Jack wasn’t exactly sure when it hit him but he’d narrowed it down to the time between Brooke inhaling two candy bars and her orgasm by the movie theater door. He’d liked her before that, he’d cared about her before that, he’d wanted her before that. But somewhere between the peanut butter cups and her coming apart so easily for him, he’d realized that he was in love with her.

And he really wished he hadn’t booked two hotel rooms.

If she was stuck in there with him in her space she’d have to face him, she’d have to realize that ignoring this wasn’t going to work.

She thought she was turning into her mother. He got that. Kind of. She’d been programmed to think that relationships were about being with someone because of what you could get from them—her mother’s entire lifestyle had been like that, Brooke’s marriage to Mike had been like that.

But he knew she didn’t want to believe that.

She was trying to rationalize how she felt about him in relation to what he had and could give her. The stronger her emotions got, the more she was afraid she was using him.

It looked like David had rubbed off on him. That was a hell of an analysis.

Jack paced his room. He had to find a way to show her that she was falling for him
in spite
of what he could give her.

And she was falling for him. She had to be.

Maybe he should just go to her room and tell her he was in love with her.

That was something different from what her mom had ever had. It sounded like she’d never been with a man who had truly loved her or appreciated her.

Maybe he should just propose. That was something else her mom hadn’t had until she’d seduced Walter’s client.

He couldn’t buy her anything.
That
was the last thing that would prove she felt more for him than gratitude. He couldn’t just march up there and sweep her off her feet and into bed either. Sex and gifts were the whole problem here.

Maybe he should just leave her alone.

But he really hated that idea.

He was startled when there was a knock at his door.

He made it across the room in three strides, yanking the door open. Brooke stood on the other side, still in the black dress. She looked like she’d been crying.

Pulling her into the room he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Turns out, I’m going to be crying no matter what at this point so I thought I should at least take you up on your offer.”

He couldn’t take his hands off of her. He ran his palms up and down her bare arms. “Absolutely. Which offer?” It didn’t matter. He’d do anything for her.

“The offer to go wild, let loose, do whatever I want with you.”

Heat and lust surged through his body. No woman had ever affected him like this and it nearly took him to his knees. He cleared his throat. “Why are you crying?”

She wiped her eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Can you just take my dress off and put your mouth on me? All over?”

He could almost taste her now. “Brooke, there’s no way in hell I would ever say no to that. But maybe we should talk—”

She stepped close until they were belly to belly. “Not unless the words we’re using are fuck and cock and deeper and harder and—”

Fine. They could talk later.

He reached down and stripped the dress up and over her head, tossing it somewhere behind him.

She was naked underneath.

He started on his shirt but she took his hands. “I want all of that too. Eventually. But right now all I need are your hands and mouth.”