Page 8 of Jagger
She nodded and told me, “I usually leave school around five o’clock, so by the time I go home and change, I could meet you any time after six.”
I groaned. Oh, fuck me. “You’re in college? Please tell me you’re over twenty-one,” I pleaded. It wasn’t a deal-breaker for me, but I’d have to be sure not to bring her around the bar again until she was legal. No sense getting on the bad side of the authorities for something as stupid as serving someone underage.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What are you talking about? I’m twenty-five.”
I felt an immediate sense of relief that I wasn’t trying to corrupt a young college girl. “You mentioned school…” I pointed out.
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m a teacher, Jagger.”
“Damn, woman, I would have enjoyed school a helluva lot more if my teachers had looked anything like you,” I teased, enjoying the faint blush that bloomed on her cheeks. I sang a little bit of Van Halen’s “Hot for Teacher” and she laughed and swatted my shoulder.
“Stop it,” she said, moving close to place her hand over my mouth when I kept singing. I grabbed it and kissed her palm, before lowering it to place flat on my chest over my heart.
“I remember now, I asked you this afternoon what you did for a living right before you smacked me for stealing a fry. That distracted me, and I never got an answer out of you.”
She pulled her hand away and covered her face in embarrassment. “Don’t remind me,” she said in a muffled voice. “I still can’t believe I did that. I think you caused a flashback to my brother tormenting me, and it was an automatic reflex.”
“Don’t worry about it, Angel. You can always kiss it and make it better,” I whispered, pulling her a little closer. I cupped her cheek, lightly brushing my thumb over the soft skin. She took my hand in hers and dragged it closer to her lips, turning it over to place a soft kiss on the back of my knuckles.
“There you go, honey, all better now,” she said huskily, and I could feel my cock growing even harder in my pants. Damn, she was so sexy without even trying. I needed to get her out of here before I bent her over the sofa and fucked her until neither of us could walk. My cock jumped at the thought.
I dropped my forehead down to rest against hers, liking the difference in our heights. She was about five-foot-five or so to my six-two, if I had to guess, not so short I would get a kink in my neck trying to kiss her, and her ass was at just the right level for me to grab hold of. I stopped myself from doing just that, knowing that I didn’t have that much self-control left in me tonight. If I touched that sweet ass of hers, all bets were off.
“OK, let’s get out of here while we still can. I think you’re trying to take advantage of me, and I’m just not that kind of man,” I said piously. She laughed until she snorted, then laughed some more.
“Oh, I’m sure you’re a good boy, aren’t you?” she teased as I opened the office door and waved her through ahead of me.
The loud music assaulting us gave me the perfect excuse to lean close to say in her ear, “Angel, if you don’t march your sweet ass down this hall, I’m going to show you just how good I am.”
She stumbled a bit, and I caught her by the arm, then wrapped my arm around her waist as we walked toward the front door of the bar. I ignored the curious stares of my brothers, shooting them the bird behind her back as we walked. Damned assholes, acting like they’d never seen an honest-to-God lady before. Well, come to think of it, they hadn’t, for the most part anyway. The club bunnies sure as hell didn’t qualify as ladies.
I walked her to her car, making sure she was buckled in and had her doors locked before she drove away with a reminder to call me as soon as she got home.
She blew me a kiss as she pulled away, and damned if I didn’t instinctively reach up to grab it like a fucking schoolboy with a playground crush. Yep, my balls were going to end up in her purse, I just fucking knew it. I shot a quick glance around the lot, thankful as hell that nobody else was out here to see me do that shit.
Fuck, I needed a drink.
Chapter 3
Molly
I smiled all the way home, reliving every moment of the evening. I shivered as I remembered his final threat to show me just how good he was. It was all I could do not to shove him back inside the office, rip his clothes off, and make him prove it.
I pulled into my parking spot and noticed my next-door neighbor unloading groceries from her trunk. The older woman looked exhausted, and when I saw the scrubs she was still wearing, I realized she had most likely stopped at the grocery after working her twelve-hour shift as a labor and delivery nurse. No wonder she looked so tired.
“Miranda, let me help you,” I said, reaching for the bags in her hands. “You grab the rest, and we’ll get them in one trip.”
She gave me a heartfelt thank you, and I gathered up the bags while she got the others and closed the trunk, then we headed toward the building together. She lived in a first-floor apartment facing the parking area, so I followed her to her door, and helped her get everything inside.
“I can’t thank you enough,” she said, as I placed the last bag on the counter. “We had four women go into labor within an hour of each other today, plus two more before my shift ended. I barely had the energy to push the damned grocery cart through the store.”
We chatted for a few minutes before I headed upstairs to my own place. I’d barely gotten my door closed and locked behind me when my cell phone started ringing, and I fished it out of my purse to see Brad calling.
“Baby doll, you’d better tell me you slept with Hottie McBiker, or I’m going to be sorely disappointed,” he announced before I’d even had a chance to say anything.
“Uh, well, prepare for crushing disappointment then, sweet cheeks,” I said, loving the fact that we still used the ridiculous nicknames we’d come up with for each other the night we’d first met during our sophomore year of college. We’d both been elementary education majors and had several classes together that semester. We’d bonded over a midterm group project, during which he and I were the only two in the group who actually did anything. We’d gotten an off-campus apartment together our junior year and had lived together up until he moved in with Drew. I’d introduced them – Drew was a friend of my brother, Matt – so I had no one to blame but myself for losing the best roommate a girl could have.
“You’re breaking my heart, Moll. Please tell me you at least got a little bit hot and heavy with your Harley hottie,” he demanded, and I could tell I was in for a long conversation if I didn’t spill the beans. Brad was like a chihuahua with a bone when he wanted something. He’d just keep yipping and yapping at you until you gave in just to shut him up. I walked into my bedroom, balancing the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I started to get undressed.
