Читать книгу What Happens In Vegas... - Lauren Dane - Страница 19

I’d considered covering the hickey on my neck—silk scarves were fashionable enough these days. In the end, I’d chosen not to cover it, since I didn’t want Jack to think it bothered me.

It did bother me because I knew he’d done it on purpose. It concerned me a hell of a lot more to think what he’d been after last night, with his little dominance show, was more than my admission over how much I loved it when he acted like a bastard. Despite his referring to me as a piece of ass, his behavior resurfaced my concern he had feelings for me that went beyond friendship and, by pushing me to the emotional edge, he’d hoped I would own up to feeling the same way about him.

My concern—both over how he felt about me and that for a while there last night I’d considered once again that there was a very real chance I could feel the same for him—was great enough to have me tossing the cabbie a twenty and jumping out of the taxi the moment it reached the firehouse to run inside in search of Vernelli.

Landen Vernelli was younger than me, but only by two years. While he was good-looking in a cute blond sort of way, he was no Jack. But then, no man would be Jack but Jack himself. I had to accept that and move on.

Vernelli was the perfect guy to move on with. Jack couldn’t possibly hang on to romantic feelings for me when he heard about my sexual exploits with another guy on a regular basis. And Vernelli would talk—of that I had no doubt.

My heart squeezed painfully when I spotted Vernelli alone in the apparatus bay just off from the truck garage. It was a pain I could easily guess was guilt.

Fuck, I hated hurting Jack. But it just wasn’t avoidable.

Having planned this before I left my apartment, I’d worn my Liege uniform. If Jack asked, I planned to use the excuse I had to work at two and figured that lunch might last till then. The reality was the uniform made me look and feel like a piece of meat and I was counting on Vernelli not being able to resist so much temptation.

I took a few seconds to plump up my breasts so they risked the confines of the tank top even more than usual—the miniskirt was already as sinfully short as it could go—then I sashayed my way toward Vernelli, a naughty smile in place.

He spun around fast when I slapped his ass through his tan canvas shorts. His blue eyes warmed with sensual invitation and a grin slid into place as he gave my barely clothed body a lingering once-over that didn’t do a damned thing for me.

His eyes met mine. “Hey, beautiful. Where’ve you been all my life?”

Accepting my hormones would kick in when the time was right, or at least once Vernelli was pumping away inside me, I flattened my hands on his chest and practically purred, “Waiting for you to come along and sweep me off my feet.”

“I’m here.”

I wet my lips tauntingly. “Then start sweeping.”

“You got it.”

With more finesse than I would’ve thought he possessed, he bent and lifted me into his arms. For a moment, I considered he might think this was all a joke. Then I noted the very real hard-on pressing against my hip.

“Where to? My bunk, or do you wanna see what it’s like to go crazy on the top of a fire truck?”

“Definitely the truck.” I’d never screwed that high up in the air. Once we got started, the possibility—slim though it was—of getting a little too wild and rolling off the truck would have to appeal to my kink factor and get my pussy wet.

With an eager grin, Vernelli exited the apparatus bay and started for the trucks.

“Put her down!”

Jack’s growl echoed through the firehouse so loudly, I jumped in Vernelli’s arms.

Vernelli didn’t seem as fazed. He kept walking, tossing over his shoulder as he went, “She seems to like it where she’s at just fine.”

Jack appeared past Vernelli’s shoulder in an instant, his forehead creased with small lines and his face red with fury. He grabbed hold of the sleeve of Vernelli’s T-shirt, whipping him around so fast I let out a screech and clung to his neck for dear life.

Jack fixed him with the death glare he’d perfected as a twelve-year-old, thanks to my help. In hindsight, that probably wasn’t something to be so proud of. “I said, put her the fuck down!”

Vernelli looked to me for answers. As much as I thought this had been the right approach to convincing Jack I didn’t want a place in his heart beyond friendship, seeing the very real threat in his eyes, I started to second-guess myself.

I nodded at Vernelli. “Better put me down.”

He set me down. Spreading his hands out in front of him, he eyed Jack regretfully. “Sorry, man, I didn’t realize you had a claim on her.”

Where I didn’t want Vernelli getting his ass kicked, I didn’t have any qualms about personally taking on Jack. “He doesn’t. We’re friends.” I moved into Jack’s personal space, got right up into his face the way I knew he hated, unless it was for sexual reasons. “Got that, Jack? Just friends.”

Nostrils flaring, Jack sent Vernelli another hard glare. He looked back at me, his blue-green eyes iced over, and then stalked across the garage to the end of the row of fire trucks.

I should have left him alone to work out whatever the hell it was in his head that said he had a right to try to put a claim on me. Only, I couldn’t. Because up until last night, when he’d temporarily made me believe he didn’t have intimate feelings for me, I’d seen this coming all along. If there was a chance of our friendship continuing after this, I had to set things straight immediately.

I followed Jack’s path to the last fire truck in the row. He leaned back against its side, cursing a blue streak in between hauling in deep breaths.

I cocked out my hip and landed into him. “What the fuck is your deal?”

He glared at me, speaking none too gently. “I don’t like seeing you get taken advantage of.”

“That’s what you said two days ago. I thought you were full of shit that time, too. News flash, Jack. Vernelli’s not half my age and he wasn’t taking advantage of me. I wanted to fuck him.”

He smirked and pushed away from the fire truck, took a menacing step toward me. “Now, who’s full of shit? You want to fuck me. Not Vernelli. Not Ryan. Not any other goddamned man or a set of men. Only me.”

I gasped at his arrogance. I liked my men cocky but, Christ, he was seriously pushing it. “I don’t want to fuck only you, you arrogant bastard. If I wanted to be with just one man, I’d be engaged to Hank.”

He laughed uproariously. “Liar. Even if you weren’t scared shitless of relationships, you would never have agreed to marry Hank. He was wrong for you in every way possible.”

And what? Jack was right for me in every way possible?

Even if I wanted to ask the question, which I didn’t, I wouldn’t have had a chance to get it out. He covered the few feet between us in an instant, then spun me around and pushed me face forward toward the fire truck.

As it had when he’d pushed me against the car hood last night, the breath whooshed out of me. Only this time I had farther to go and the landing was that much harder because of it. My hands hit first, bracing for impact, so I didn’t do a complete face-plant. Then I made the mistake of taking the time to steady myself. It was all the time Jack needed to get his hands back on me and show me exactly how kind he’d been in his handling of me last night.

One hand coiled around my forearm, fingers biting into my flesh, while the other moved beneath my skirt. The warmth of his fingers brushed my rear end, and then he was yanking aside my panties, exposing my ass to the kiss of the air.

My eyes widened with the hiss of his zipper. Fear and—Christ, there was obviously something wrong with my head—uncontainable excitement coiled in my belly as the plump head of his hard cock pushed against my crack. He jammed two fingers inside my pussy, which had been ridiculously and shamelessly wet from the moment I’d witnessed his possessive rage. He fingered me just long enough to get his fingers coated in my juices and then shoved them in my asshole. I sighed with the forceful entry. Sighed louder as he started pumping.

Once.

Twice.

He pulled free and shoved inside again. Only this time not with his fingers. His cock filled me in a violent thrust.

Tears spilled from my eyes as pleasure pain so exquisite I could barely breathe rippled through my body. I curled my fingers tight, gripping on to the truck’s side rails as he pounded into my ass like some feral beast.

“Jesus Christ, Jack!” It was all I could say. It was all too much. Too forceful. Too raw. Too damned good.

Past the rage of a blossoming orgasm that promised to be one of the best of my life, I became conscious of voices. Men talking. Men laughing. Every guy in the firehouse was probably watching Jack take me in the ass.

Like the dirty girl I was, I’d never been more excited in my life. Or shouted so loudly, as my pussy contracted with spasms and I came in time with Jack’s cum spilling into my ass.

He pulled out of me seconds later, spinning me instantly in his arms. Regret over his behavior filled his eyes and I had no doubt the same would come out of his mouth if I gave him the opportunity. I wasn’t about to do that. I didn’t want apologies from Jack. The naughty part of me wanted a repeat of the violent coupling. Fortunately, the girl that knew when to walk was back to calling the shots.

I pushed my palms against Jack’s chest and sent him stumbling backward a few steps. Without another look his way, I started for the front door, settling my drenched panties back into place and managing to strum my still aroused clit in the process. I wasn’t quite able to stop the moan that slipped from between my lips, so I simply went with it.

I gave the dozen or so guys—thankfully Ryan wasn’t among them, though I knew he’d hear all about it soon enough, along with every other person on the crew not present—who stood ogling and more than likely sporting some major wood, my dirtiest smile. “So, what do you say, boys? Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

Leaving them to stare and grin and give childishly inane wolf whistles, I walked through the firehouse door in search of the nearest cab and then a bottle or two of Bombay Sapphire, hold the vermouth.