PartyNaked (10 page)

Jarod hated to burst Carol’s bubble. She looked genuinely
hopeful. A quick glance at her hand confirmed she was single. At the same time,
he felt like he needed to protect his male comrades as well. “I should point
out that the story was written by a woman. There are a few times in the book
when James went on and on about his desires. It didn’t sound very guy-like to
me.”

“So men don’t talk about their desires?” Jayne asked.

Jarod shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was the word I was
hung up on. We know what we want, but I don’t think we use the same terms the
author did or even think about it that much. James constantly referring to his
‘most passionate desire
’
was definitely chick lingo.”

“How would a man say it?” Gladys asked.

“I want to get laid.” His response was too quick and too
easy, but mercifully, the women laughed and concurred that they’d suspected as
much.

Stephanie was suspiciously quiet throughout the discussion
and, at one point, Jarod began to question whether she’d read the book at all.
As the conversation wound down, Jayne asked everyone for their final
impressions of the book.

Jarod stared at Stephanie until she was forced to meet his
gaze. When she did, he raised his eyebrow, daring her to speak up, to express
the ideas she’d shared with him last night.

She narrowed her eyes then glanced around the table. “I
think it’s a nice fantasy, but don’t you all think the whole story was a bit
unrealistic?”

Stephanie’s question triggered a spark that sent the other
women into a loud flurry of protests. It took Jayne several attempts to quiet
them down. “Why do you say that?”

Stephanie looked directly at him as she spoke. “First of
all, I think the hero and heroine were confusing lust for love. There’s a big
difference between those two things, but the author blurred the lines,
pretended like they were one and the same.”

Jarod leaned forward in his seat. This was what he’d hoped
would happen since sitting down at the table. She was challenging his
assertions from last night. Putting up a fight. He was ready for her. “So
people who are in love can’t be sexually attracted to each other?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course they can. I just think these two
characters crossed that line awfully damn fast. Real life doesn’t happen that
way.”

Gladys tapped her fingernail against her drink glass. “Are
you saying you don’t believe in love at first sight?”

“Hell yeah. That’s exactly what I’m saying. That sort of
thinking is shortsighted and impractical. How can you look at someone and fall
madly in love based only on a first impression?”

Jarod agreed with her…to a point, but they’d progressed way
beyond the first-impression stage. “I don’t think you can fall in love with
just one look, but I’m not going to deny it’s possible to meet someone and feel
a click, a connection.”

“A spark,” Jayne added.

Jarod nodded. “Yeah. A spark.”

Stephanie shook her head. “Love doesn’t come that easily.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“In order to fall in love, it’s important to really know the
person and trust them. Trust isn’t something you can win overnight or even in a
week. It’s something that’s earned over time. A lot of time.”

“I can understand that,” Jayne said, “but I think the author
was saying sometimes there is beauty in taking that one leap of faith, in
letting your guard down and opening your heart to the unexpected.”

“In following your gut,” Jarod added, purposely trying to
remind Stephanie of their conversation the previous night.

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “In making an ass of yourself and
setting yourself up for heartbreak. That sort of bullshit is a surefire way to
misery.”

He wasn’t surprised by her words. The pain of her mother’s
failed marriages was evident. Stephanie put on a tough exterior, but Jarod
suspected there was a whole world of terror residing inside her. She was proud
and stubborn. She wouldn’t let herself make the same mistakes her mother had
made. She preferred the safe route—never letting herself feel anything deeper
than friendship, never letting herself experience anything other than casual
sex. When he’d asked her about her last relationship, she couldn’t remember
one. He wondered if she’d ever taken a leap of faith with her heart, ever
trusted someone enough to fall in love.

“You’re wrong.” His declaration tweaked her temper just as
he’d known it would. The other ladies fell silent when Stephanie stared at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re mistaking cowardice for practicality, shutting
yourself off from an emotion you can’t control.”

She frowned. “I wasn’t talking about me. I was discussing
the book.”

He didn’t respond, though his silence made it clear he
didn’t think she’d been talking about the book at all. He was deliberately
baiting her. Stephanie needed her foundation shaken up a bit. She might pretend
this conversation was all hypothetical, but he knew better and he wasn’t
letting her hide from it.

She looked at Jayne. “Is the book discussion over?”

Jayne nodded slowly. “I, um…yeah, I guess it is.”

Stephanie rose and looked directly at him. “Do you have a
minute, Jarod? I’d like to speak to you in private.”

He rose from the table slowly. “Thank you for letting me
join your group this evening, ladies. I had a lot of fun.”

The women said their goodbyes, but he felt their gazes
piercing his back as he followed Stephanie down a hallway toward some stairs.

They walked to the second floor without speaking. Once they
hit the upper landing, he broke the silence. “If you’re dragging me up here to
murder me, you just left a shitload of witnesses down there. Better make sure
you hide the body good.”

She turned to look at him and he was surprised to see humor
in her eyes. He’d thought she was pissed off. “We rent both floors of the
building. Jordan keeps an office up here to handle accounts and we store stuff
in the other rooms.”

She opened a door and took him inside one of the storage
rooms. There were boxes lining three of the walls, while a couple of broken bar
stools lay in the middle of the floor. Once he crossed the threshold, she shut
the door and locked it. Grabbing him by the shirt, she pushed him against the
nearest wall and kissed him.

As far as reactions went, he wouldn’t have seen this one
coming from a mile away. Not that he was complaining. He let her direct their
kiss, her fingers gripping his hair, holding his face to hers.

She forced his mouth open, her tongue driving in fast and
hard. Jarod followed her lead, trying to separate his mind from his body long
enough to figure out what the hell was going on. He’d purposely goaded her
downstairs, thinking an argument would drag her out of her imperturbable
mindset long enough for him to see what he was up against.

She was too closed off, too in control, and he needed to
shatter some of that composure. He was tired of feeling like he’d been ridden
hard and put away wet whenever he was with her, only to discover her still
cruising along, cool as a cucumber.

He placed his hands on her hips, intent on pushing her away,
but she read his touch as an invitation and moved closer, pressing her lower
body against his. At that point, his cock stopped giving a shit about anything
except relief.

He grasped the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her
head, his fingers immediately tackling the clasp of her bra. She mimicked his
motions, pulling his shirt off and dragging her fingers along his chest.

As he worked on releasing the button and zipper on her
jeans, he pulled away from her continued kiss. “Is there a meaning to this that
I’m missing?”

She didn’t look up as she attacked the fastening on his
pants, shoving them and his boxers down in one fluid movement. “A deeper
meaning than I’m horny?”

“I thought you’d be pissed off at me.”

She shook her head, dropping to her knees in front of him.
His head flew back, striking the wall hard when she wrapped her hand around his
erection. “Angry? Horny? What’s the difference? They both make me hot.”

He tried to offer some witty reply, but the words turned
into a groan when she engulfed the head of his cock in her mouth.

“Jesus,” he muttered. Her mouth was a warm, wet
cave—paradise. She took him to the back of her throat on the third stroke and
he gritted his teeth. While the idea of coming in her mouth was enticing, he
knew it wouldn’t be enough. He wrapped his fingers in her hair as she moved
along his rigid flesh faster. She sucked harder and he couldn’t repress the
shiver that rumbled through his body.

When he realized time was running out and his climax was
imminent, he pushed her head away.

She released his cock with a pop and a complaint. “Hey!” She
tried to reclaim her hold on him, but he was finished playing this game by her
rules. He reached for her upper arms, pulling her to a standing position.

“Dammit, Jarod. I wasn’t finished.”

He unfastened her pants, shoving them and her panties to her
ankles. “Kick off your pants and shoes. I’m going to fuck you.” The words were
harsher than he intended, but his body was flying this plane. Finesse wasn’t
going to be an option.

She hastily shed the rest of her clothes as he reached down
for his wallet. Pulling out a condom, he covered his cock as he shoved off his
own jeans. Switching positions, he pressed her against the wall that had
previously been at his back.

“Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on.”

Putting her arms around his shoulders, she allowed him to
lift her, watching as he placed his cock at the opening to her pussy and
pressed in. She was soaking wet and more than ready for his possession.

He thrust in hard, relishing her gasp, her moans.

Conversation between them disintegrated into a series of
curses, demands and groans.

“Fuck yeah. Just like that, baby,” he said when she arched
her back slightly, allowing him to go deeper.

“Harder,” she cried, groaning when he increased the force of
his blows.

“God damn,” he said through gritted teeth, pushing her legs
down.

She snarled when he pulled out. “Not stopping again.”

“Turn around. I want to fuck you from behind.”

“Yes,” she hissed.

He gripped her hips, pulling them back until she was bent
over at the waist, her palms pressed flat against the wood.

“Hold on.” His words were as much for him as for her. He was
too close to coming, and he suspected he only had a few more good thrusts
inside him before he blew.

Stephanie glanced over her shoulder and gave him a wicked
grin. “Make it good.”

He closed his eyes, lined up his cock and shoved in with all
his might. Damn, he loved a dare. She met each of his thrusts, both of them
racing toward the end together. Maybe one of these days they’d trade in their
sprints for marathons. For right now, he just wanted…

He groaned as her pussy clenched around his cock, her orgasm
triggering his own. They clung to each other, seeking physical support lest
they both fall over.

He was still breathing heavily when she finally stirred.
Christ, he liked to think he was in good shape, but she’d given him one hell of
a workout.

She slowly straightened, using the wall for support in her
efforts to resume an upright position. “Holy fuck,” she said, pressing her forehead
against the wood.

He couldn’t have said it better. In her efforts to stand,
she’d moved away from him. Jarod missed the physical connection, so he took a
step closer, placing his palms on the wall and caging her in.

As his breathing slowed, his wits returned. “Do you want to
tell me what that was all about?”

She didn’t respond immediately and he wished she’d turned
around, needing to see her face, read her expressions. He felt like he spent
too much time flying blind with her.

Finally, she turned to face him and he knew he wasn’t going
to like what was coming next. “I was trying to prove my point.”

“What point?”

“This isn’t love at first sight, Jarod. It’s lust. Pure and
simple.”

“Wrong,” he refuted. “You didn’t listen to what I said
downstairs. Two people can be in love
and
in lust with each other.”

She narrowed her eyes. Clearly she thought she’d won this
round and left him at a disadvantage. What they’d just engaged in couldn’t be
misconstrued as anything other than unadulterated, hardcore, fuck-the-walls-down
sex. But that didn’t mean other emotions weren’t involved. They sure as hell
were
for him.

When she smiled up at him, that cursed coolness covering her
lovely, flushed features, he felt the urge to punch the wall in frustration.

“It’s only sex, Detective. And when it burns out, it burns
out.”

Mark up another evasion to the bartender.

Jarod returned her smug grin with an even cockier one,
enjoying the suspicious concern that entered her gaze. She may think she
prevailed in this battle, but he was definitely going to be the victor in the
war. Confidence bloomed. He could afford to be generous.

“Touché, Steph.”

She looked uneasy. “So you agree I’m right?”

He shook his head. “Nope. You’re still wrong.”

Chapter Seven

After their heated interlude in the storage room, Stephanie
expected Jarod to back off a bit. Instead, he became her personal shadow. Every
night after his shift, he appeared in the bar, claiming what she’d come to
consider
his
stool. They’d talk as she worked. After closing, he’d stick
around to help her tidy up, then walk her to her car. He never invited her back
to his place or accepted an invitation to hers. Instead, he gave her a sinfully
hot goodnight kiss that never failed to leave her body aching and needy.

Somehow, Wednesday had become date night. He’d show up at
her apartment at six and take her out for the evening. They’d yet to do the
same thing twice. They’d been bowling, to an arcade, strolling by the river and
they sung karaoke—badly. She’d never had so much fun with a guy before.
Generally, she went out with her girlfriends for laughs and companionship,
while her dating experiences had involved awkward conversations over dinner
before they could get down to the good stuff—sex. Jarod had changed all of
that.