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He’s correct, but I will not admit it. “You asked for my help, and I’m following through. There’s nothing enjoyable about this.”
Jake slowly smiles. “You’re always sexy, even when you aren’t trying to be.” He flattens his hand, presses it against his chest, and then raises it over his head. “Then the prickly princess side of you comes out, and I find you even sexier. Admit it, you like this. You like working with me.”
“I do not.” It’s true. He’s made work fun again, even if challenges remain to be solved.
“We make excellent partners,” he says. My frown only encourages him. “You want to keep working with me.”
“Your ego is bigger than this hotel.”
“It’s even bigger, closer to the size of a superspeedway. Come over here next to me.” Jake indicates the spot next to him with his chin. “I’m going to take your clothes off.”
I don’t move, which only amuses him.
“Oh, it’s like that. You think we’re negotiating,” he says. Jake’s cocky smile tells me I’m about to lose this battle. “Not this time, Princess. We’re doing what I want.”
He stands, and quicker than should be possible, I’m moving through the air, landing on my back in the middle of the king-sized bed.
Jake straddles me, and I cup his thighs.
“You’re going to wear one of my shirts. None of this bullshit.” He taps the Rivers logo on my polo shirt. “It needs my name on it so everyone knows I claimed you.” Jake traces one of my nipples through the cotton material until it puckers, and he switches to the other one. “Or maybe I’ll keep you naked in my trailer. You’ll be on the bed, waiting for me to return after a race.”
He nuzzles at my neck, so I call his name. Jake nips my chin before pulling himself up. I shake my head and lick my lips. He smiles, aware of what I’m about to say.
“Undress. Now.”
16-Sarah
Jake rips off his clothes and returns to straddling me. The light brown hair on his legs tickles me, so I grab one and pull, hoping for a reaction. There isn’t one.
His blond hair isn’t neat, though it hardly ever is. He keeps it short, not bothering to do more than finger-comb it after a shower.
He spends enough time shirtless to give his skin a golden hue rather than a full tan. I tickle his stomach, enjoying the warm skin and firm muscles underneath.
“It’s your turn,” he says, nodding at my still-clothed body. I cross my arms, and my eyes squeeze shut. “You know this gets me hard, right?”
I open one eye and then the other. My shorts and panties disappear onto the floor, and I help with the shirt. “You walked through the hotel room door already hard, Jake.”
“That’s true. It led to some awkward stares in the lobby.” Jake lays down, taking care not to crush me. “I forgot to mention I ordered our dinner. It should be here in twenty minutes. We get a round one, and then I fuel up for round two, leaving you exhausted and sore in the morning.”
I can’t decide whether to ask Jake what he ordered or challenge his claim. “What are we having?”
“Fruit, and you know what else.”
Jake said he would protect my heart, and I’m starting to believe him. He’s showing it every day and allowing me to set the pace. Well, as much as the race car driver in him will allow.
I still need to fix everything else, and I don’t know how. Jake’s dream is morphing into my own, while his adversarial relationship with Boone is another challenge. It’s also the more difficult one to solve.
Neither can be fixed this evening, not with Jake on me, his lips against mine, and his hips between my thighs.
“You said twenty minutes, right?” I ask him.
“Yes. You’ll be impressed or disappointed. I’m not sure which.”
I pull myself like I’m going in for a kiss and end up surprising him with a shove on the chest. Jake obliges, moving us both so I straddle his thighs.
I stroke his chest and abdomen, letting myself explore while deciding what to do next. Jake lies still, content to let me lead.
His chest and shoulders, though sun-kissed, are still pale enough to give him a slight farmer’s tan. I trace its edges on his upper arms. His chest hair thickens further down his stomach, and his silky curls change to a dark sandy blond. I pull at one tendril and wait for a reaction—still nothing.
