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She felt Jake’s chest fall with an audible puff of his breath. What the hell?
The sky cracked again, and the catamaran knocked against the dock. Jake snuggled her close to him as he widened his stance. “Rae-kale, this is Jaxton, our new wide receiver.” Then, boom, crack, drops of water launched from the sky into steely rain. The guys started scuttling toward the pier, whooping and hollering.
“Nice to meet you,” she screamed over the commotion as Jake tugged her toward the steps.
“Hold the rail,” Jake instructed, jumping onto the pier. Turning, he bent forward, literally jerking her by the waist over the step. Then he scooped her in his arms, water sluicing over them as if someone were standing above, throwing buckets from the sky. The guys ran toward the beach where the main restaurant stood, lights flickering inside.
Dwayne jogged by, yelling, “You guys joining us, Skyler?”
“Hell no, I have different plans,” Jake yelled, his pace easing into a strident walk as his arms held her firmly. She was grateful that they weren’t going out.
“Of course you do, pretty boy!” she heard Dwayne shout as he jogged ahead in the downpour.
“We’re here,” Jake said, lowering her from his arms under the awning of a bungalow. He fished in his back pocket to pull out the key card. As he opened the door, she took a step forward, but his hand shot up. “Wait,” he semi-ordered. She rolled her eyes just as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her in. Kicking the door closed, he made his way to a rustic meets modern bathroom with an oversized copper soaking tub next to the wall separating the bathroom from the bedroom, which also encased a see-through fireplace. The wall was made of what looked like reclaimed barn wood, and the flooring had the same rustic wood look, but as her feet touched down, she could feel the coolness of tile. She took in her image in the massive mirror framed by white-washed wood above the slate-gray stone vanity. Her long hair was wet and matted to her head, streaks of black mascara ran down her cheeks, her sweater hung wet off her arms, and her T-shirt was plastered to her body. Jake came up behind her, his black hair still wet, messed curls like a shiny mop on his head. He had taken off his sweatshirt. His T-shirt was dripping and stuck to his muscular chest, his jeans slung low on his hips. He reached up, easing the sweater off her shoulders. “We should jump in the shower, then get a hot bath. I’m having dinner delivered here in about twenty minutes.”
Her eyes snagged on his in the mirror. "Twenty minutes,” she hushed in a flirty voice. “That’s enough time…” Before she could get out the rest of her words, he caught her wrists, placing them on the edge of the counter.
She saw his eyes blazing in the reflection from behind her as he lifted her dress with one hand, pulling her wet panties down to her knees with the other. “You want this?” he growled.
She tossed him a smug smile in the mirror. "That’s why I’m here, Skyler. You know, waiting by your front door to see if I can get a piece of the great Jake Skyler,” she taunted.
“No one but you, Rakell McCarthy, gets a piece of me, no one but you. You are everything I want.” His voice was rough, sincerity bleeding from his tone as if he were taking a pledge.
Her attention peaked at the sound of his zipper, the shuffling of his jeans, and the pressure of his hand against the small of her back, urging her to bend forward more.
“Yes,” hissed out of her mouth. She’d never ached for someone the way she did for him. The tips of his fingers gathered the wet material of her cotton dress into his fist, bunching it around her waist, his cock pulsing against the crack of her ass like a live wire.
Bending so his face was next to hers, he murmured, “Look at how fucking hot you are. Is that yes, yes, Jake, just take me now? Because I need your rock-hard cock in my pussy right now?” in her ear, as his hand cupped her sex, one finger exploring her folds.
Her eyes found his. “Yes to all of that,” she said, thinking she looked like a worn-out rag doll. It felt so affirming to not always worry about being presentable, dressed to the satisfaction of some man, lingerie, dresses, hair perfectly coifed, presenting them with the image they had conjured of her. Just then, she felt him pierce her, gliding into her wetness, controlled at first, evaporating into an animal-like force, giving way to rapid, hard strokes.
He groaned in her ear, “Fucking hot little minx, you know what you do to me.” His hand groped beneath her dress, his fingers finding her hard nub, stroking it, as his dick moved in and out. “Don’t you?” he growled on a deep thrust. “Come, come now, because I’m going to…Fuck, so fucking good…” he groaned again, pinching her clit, then rubbing it as she shuddered, heat bursting from her pussy, sparking through her whole body.
Her moans filled the small room as her nervous system rode the roller coaster of sensation.
“Yes, let it go.” She heard his urge, his voice gruff. “You’re mine. I don’t want any other man’s hands on you.” His tone was edged with warning.
What the hell was that about? shot to her frontal lobe. Her brain spiked at the threat in his voice. Or was she imagining that? Defensiveness charged her internal reaction. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the bungalow door.
He shimmed his hips back, his softening penis slipping out of her, pulling his damp jeans up. “I’ll get that. Jump in the shower,” he said, disappearing through the bathroom door.
“Fucking bossy,” she mocked under her breath, irritation shifting her mood as she slipped into the shower. She wondered how the hell she could confront him without sinking the night. They had so little time together…three nights. Sunday would be eaten up with the team cookout and family-friendly activities, so really, they had tonight and tomorrow, then on Monday, season training started with the whole team. She’d be back on a plane headed to Austin. She craved a few days to reconnect and see Matt and Jonathon, who were planning to drive in from Houston. Both Caroline and Melissa had reached out to have lunch, as well. She walked out in one of the white fluffy hotel robes, gasping when she saw the blanket laid out in front of the fireplace, rimmed with flickering fake candles, a bottle of Champagne in a silver ice bucket, a meat and cheese board, a fruit platter with grapes, slices of watermelon, sliced apples, blueberries and strawberries. A vase brimming with white roses sat to the side. “Jake,” she murmured, taking in his grin.
“Come here,” he said, motioning to the small bench by the bed. You enjoy some Champagne, and I’ll take a quick shower. We have this…” He gestured to the spread before them. “But later, they’ll bring entrees.”
Between bites, they polished off a bottle of Chardonnay after the Champagne. He chuckled when she laid her head on his thigh, her lids heavy as he scooped her up and carried her to bed.
The following morning, the near-constant buzz of her phone woke her up. She shifted in the bed, her eyes fluttering open, blinking from the buttery light coating the room. She scanned the room, seeing Jake drinking coffee from a ceramic mug, reading one of the Louis L’Amour books she’d given him. “Anything exciting happening, cowboy?” Her voice creaked from the remnants of sleep.
Lowering the book, he gave her a sly, closed-mouth smile. “No, but we can make something exciting happen.”
Her hand shot up like a traffic cop. “No, no…not until I have coffee.” Her eyes dropped to the phone, squealing for attention on the bedside table.
“I’ll get your coffee,” he stated flatly as he watched her reach for it.
She felt his stare, his eyebrows furrowing. “Jake, you know I have to…” she said, her eyes flitting to her phone, distracted by all the texts from Ana.
Ana: Call me…Send
