Page 37 of Work It Out
Rayah stirred in her sleep. A sweet mewling sound drifted from her throat as she snuggled closer to him. He tightened his hold and kissed her temple. Outside, the sun burnished the sky to glossy oranges and reds. He ought to get up. Pierce would be pissed if he showed up late for his morning session. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt though. Just five more…
Thetap-tap-tapping of someone rapid-fire texting jarred Jake awake. His eyes snapped open to find Pierce standing at the foot of Rayah’s bed, bathed in far more sunlight than he ought to be, and wearing a huge shit-eating grin that reeked of trouble.
In a blink, he saw the scene the way Pierce must. The shirt Rayah wore, the one that belonged to Jake and swallowed her whole, had slipped down over her shoulder—the only part of her that peeked out of the covers other than her head. She looked soft and sweet and very, very naked.
“What the fuck, asshole?” Jake whisper-shouted, not daring to move a muscle in hopes he salvaged this without waking her.
Pierce’s eyes flashed up and that grin turned triumphant. “Hehe. I win.”
“Mother—” Because he knew, he just knew, what that meant, and it would piss Rayah off to hell and back.
Pierce’s eyes flew wide. “Uh-oh.” With that his former friend turned on his heel and fled like the big-mouthed, dick-headed coward he was. Jake slid his arm from under Rayah, jumped out of bed, and ran after him.
Or he tried to. In actuality, he wound up eating carpet, and not in the fun way.
“Jake!” Rayah rolled him onto his back, but his vision had conked out and he heard her as if through a tunnel. “What happened? Did you trip? I don’t—”
“Kill!” Jake flung a finger in the direction of her quarry. Hopefully. He was still disoriented. “Pierce. Pool. Asshole!”
A car door slammed outside and Rayah gasped. When she spoke, her voice shifted from warm concern to icy rage. “Don’t move.” Then she, too, was gone.
Jake’s vision came back online in fits and starts as he crawled over to the window. Sure enough, Pierce sat in his Jeep, texting faster than a teenager. Rayah stomped into view, and Jake almost laughed at the speed with which Pierce tossed his phone.
“What did you do?” She stormed over and yanked on the handle, but Pierce was speedy with the power locks. Slapping at the window, she shouted, “Pierce Sullivan, you open this door or so help me…”
Pierce shook his head and said something Jake couldn’t make out.
Rayah clearly didn’t have the same problem. “You what?!”
She peeked over her shoulder as if searching for help. Instead, she caught sight of Jake. He couldn’t hear her this time, but he knew that face. She was growling at him for not staying where she’d put him. Pierce seized on her momentary distraction and hightailed it out of there. Rayah stood in the driveway, coughing on Pierce’s dust cloud, cloaked in nothing but his tent-like T-shirt and her righteous fury.
Carefully, Jake crawled back to the bed and pulled himself up. When she hurried into the room and demanded, “What the hell was that?” Jake couldn’t resist reeling her in to stand between his thighs the way she had that first night. This time he didn’t have to quell the urge to ease his hand into her hair and press his lips to hers. The soft, slow kiss left them both breathless.
“Good morning, cupcake.” More than anything, he wanted to tumble them both back onto the mattress and pick up where they’d left off. But the time wasn’t right, so he settled for patting that delicious ass of hers. “Get dressed. We need to hustle.”
He set her back a step and stood, satisfied when he only wobbled a little. She wasn’t nearly as contented. The blissed-out glaze cleared from her eyes, and she threw his arm over her shoulders.
“Sweetheart, I’d love to let you hold me,” Jake said, meaning it. “But we really should get moving. I have a bad feeling about this.”
She smacked his side. “I’m trying to help you, you stubborn…” She searched for a worthy epithet and finally settled on “man.”
Jake couldn’t help himself. Sometimes she was just too cute. He dipped down for one more kiss. It should’ve been a quick peck, but she threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged him closer. Until a phone rang in the other bedroom. Since he didn’t recognize the sound, it had to be hers. He would’ve let it keep ringing, but she broke free, panting and snarling as she stormed off. He stumbled along behind her, mesmerized by the way she practically floated, even rip-shit pissed. Rayah snatched her phone off the dresser and barked a greeting. Jake dug a shirt out of his bag and started in on socks and shoes.
“What?!”
Yup. Pierce was a dead man. They could kill him together. It’d be like a couple’s project.
“Are you serious?” Listening, she closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. “Give me ten minutes… Uh-huh… All right…” With that, she ended the call and tore into her duffel bag, muttering all the time about stupid nutjobs.
“How bad is it?”
She snarled. “The fact that Pierce told everyone we slept together or that they had a pool going on how long it’d take you to get in my pants?”
“Dealer’s choice.”
If glares could kill, he’d at least be neutered. “You’re not surprised at all?”
“You have met Pierce, right?”
