Page 76 of Work It Out
Jake’s arm tightened around her reflexively. If he had his way, whoever had hurt her would pay in blood, and he’d make damn sure the world never threatened her again. Not that she needed saving. She really was the strongest person he knew, but even Captain America needed Peggy Carter. He could totally be her Peggy Carter.
He just had to figure out a way to keep her in his life. It wouldn’t be easy. Hopefully, his career was about to take off, she still had a business to run, and his track record for putting other people first wasn’t the shiniest at the moment, but it had improved by miles because of her. She’d fight him all the way, say it could never work. But, after last night, the thought of never seeing her again left him panicked. Except being with him would put her in the public eye again. What if—
A small hand flopped against his face. “Shh. Sleepy time.”
He chuckled, kissed her palm, then moved her hand to rest on his shoulder. In a bare whisper, he said, “I didn’t say anything, cupcake. Go back to sleep.”
“Trying. You’re thinking too loud.”
He laughed, jostling her. Her face came up, a grin curling kiss-swollen lips. She rested her chin on folded hands over his sternum and stared at him, brown eyes sparkling. “Morning.”
“Morning.” He palmed the luscious ass that had given him a near constant hard-on for weeks. Her face flamed when he gave her cheek a firm squeeze. Damn, she was the most intoxicating blend of sensual and sweet.
Rayah squealed when Jake planted his other hand on her butt and rolled them, making her screech again and clutch at his shoulders. “For crying out loud, Newman. Warn a girl.” Panting, she flicked her gaze to his lips.
“What fun would that be? Now, shush. I have to say good morning to my breast friends.”
“You did not just call my boobs your ‘breast friends.’”
His smile was hidden as he tilted his face to the parts in question. He kissed the tops of each swell, one and then the other, before peppering more along the undersides and the valley between them, carefully skirting their puckered tips. “Good morning, ladies. You look lovely today.”
He’d always been an ass man, but these beauties might make him reconsider. Of course, her legs were hot as fuck, too. They weren’t long, but they were insanely strong and curvy in a way that sent his mind to wonderfully dirty places involving her in a cowgirl hat and not much else. Maybe some boots.
He groaned. Oh, yeah. Definitely boots. Or heels. Or heeled boots.
Shit. Had she given him a foot fetish, too?
He glanced up. Her smile was both indulgent and heated as her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging a bit at the unruly strands. His dick jerked against the mattress. Maybe he wasn’t an ass man or a breast man or a leg man. He didn’t have a foot fetish; he had a Rayah fetish. Everything from her tousled hair to her dainty pink toenails did it for him. She called him on his crap, and she handled his grandma like a pro. She—
Oh, hell. He checked the clock on her nightstand. Five minutes after eight.
He’d never hear the end of it for being late. But when he pushed onto his arms, the sheet billowed, and the scent of her arousal smacked into him. He was kissing his way down her belly before he’d fully realized his destination. But why not? They were already late, and breakfast was the most important meal of the day. All he had to do was get his mouth on her before she noticed the—
“We’re late!” She whacked his shoulder. “We should’ve been there five minutes ago.”
And no doubt her type-A soul ached. She also had a deep need to keep the peace and please people. She’d hate disappointing his grandmother. Still… He braced himself over her so that every breath heated her most sensitive skin. “True. I probably have half a dozen messages wanting to know where we are, though I’m sure they can all guess.”
Her face colored again, even brighter than before. “Do you really think everyone knows?”
He wanted to tell her no, soothe her fears, but that would do her no favors. “Rayah, this is Bigbone. Everyone knew what would happen before we made it out of the church lot last night, and some of them will give us a hard time when we show up. There’s an entire chapter in the Small Town Handbook devoted to regressing to the age of six over juicy gossip.”
She covered her face, groaning, but the sound stopped abruptly when he placed his mouth on her. “Jake.”
“Hmm,” he hummed against her.
“You have to…” She fisted the sheets at her side as he licked straight up her center. “We have to…”
“Having trouble, cupcake?”
“You—”
He suckled her clit, then pressed hard with his tongue until she gasped. Peeking up at her face, he slipped one finger into her slick heat. The feel of her gripping him damn near made him cross-eyed, but he forced himself to ask, “Should I stop?”
She nibbled on her lip. He didn’t push her. He never would. She was quiet so long he pulled his hand away and shoved himself up on his arms again. A cold shower was in order. A cold, lonely shower.
Rayah sat up, her face suddenly inches from his. Her grin was so bright and mischievous, his fingers itched to take a picture of her. In moments like this—times when she tossed away all her fear and hurt and let him see the woman beneath it all—she was the embodiment of her middle name. Rayah, with her incredible smile and the gentle heart she kept buried, had become his most vital source of sunshine.
One second she was smiling up at him, the next she was smiling down at him. His little cupcake had rolled them until she was straddling his hips, and she’d done it so quickly, his head actually spun.
