Mr. Wham Bam (3 page)

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her lips, and stole a kiss as her jacket slid down her shoulders and onto the floor. “I say that’s a very bad idea. I like mine better.”

Pushing close to his body, she could feel the hard imprint of his cock against her stomach. Why was he hesitating? Was the chase the fun part, and now that she was willing and wanton, the entertainment was lost?

“You made promises to me on the phone—to tie me to your bed, to fuck me all night long. You
are
backing out, aren’t you, Jace?”

The words rushed out in drink-laced honesty. She wouldn’t have asked him had she not been bolstered by liquor, but she was still sober enough to regret the words as soon as they flew from her lips. The night was becoming a series of setbacks and put-downs, and she was near her limit. She sucked in a breath when she realized he may, in fact, not be as interested in her as he’d let on. He’d suggested taking her back to her house. Maybe that was what he’d really wanted to do, and she was standing in his house, acting pathetic, chasing after a man who really didn’t want her.

“No, I’m
not
backing out.” The garbled tone to his voice was filled with what sounded like need. “Not on your life.”

Jace moved his hands; they roamed down her back and onto her rump, dragging her closer to his hard cock. A stilted breath slowly slid from between his lips. She placed a hand to his chest and felt his heart, beating as quickly as her own.

He appeared on edge.

But she was teetering closer to the brink and needed to pull him nearer. She slid her hand down his chest and below and then pressed a palm to his heavy cock. His hiss of pleasure made her smile, cream spreading along her pussy at the thought of a man of his size sliding into her. Huge was an understatement. She’d never felt a man so thick, so long. The night would be an interesting one, seeing how well he would fit inside her.

He pulled her hand away, bringing her fingers to his lips. He kissed each one as she observed, enraptured by the sight. His lips really were very kissable, and she planned to savor them thoroughly throughout the night.

As if hearing her thoughts, his mouth slanted down across hers, and he tasted her tentatively. His lips were soft, yet firm, and made her want more. He was being too timid, too gentle. This was not the overzealous persona he’d portrayed when trying to tempt her all those times before. This was not the man who’d texted her earlier, telling her the near-sadistic games he wanted to play with her body.

She needed hot and hard. He was giving her soft and gentle.

“I expected—different—from you. Where is all this romantic mumbo jumbo coming from?” She wrapped her arms around his neck as she awaited his response.

His head lifted away from hers, and she looked up into his gray eyes. She’d never seen them this close before, but in the light of the foyer, his eyes were stunning. Ice-blue flecks glimmered in the silver depths. He was a Greek god reincarnated, beautiful, strong, and completely male.

And he was playing hard to get.
What the hell?

“Romantic mumbo jumbo? I thought all the ladies liked to have a little romance in their lives? Not you, Kensington?”

“Nope, not me. I want it hot, hard, and heavy. I’m tired of nice guys. I want a dirty one. Why’d you think I called you of all people?”

He looked down at her, an unknown emotion wavering across his face. He removed her arms from around his neck and pulled her into the living room. He settled her on the couch before moving to the bar.

“Want another drink?”

“Two minutes ago, you were offering me coffee. Now you wanna liquor me up and have your wicked way with me?”

“I believe that’s already on the table.”

There was no humor in his tone, and it stilled her for a moment. What had crawled up his ass? He’d chased her; now here she was, offering herself up like the sacrificial lamb, and he had the nerve to get bitchy about it. Had she taken all the fun from his hunt?

“Yes—it—is. But it
is
a limited time offer, so act now and don’t delay.”

He didn’t smile at her sarcasm, just stared at her with an empty glass in hand and a raised eyebrow.

“Sure, another drink would be just fine.” Her buzz was already starting to wear off, thanks to his inability to play along as promised, and if he didn’t speed up the process, she wouldn’t have the nerve to go through with what she had planned. “Vodka cranberry if you have it.”

He lifted a bottle of Grey Goose and poured freely. A moment later, he brought her a lightly pinked tumbler of vodka. Her head was
so
going to hurt in the morning. Hopefully, her body would be as sore from the workout he’d guaranteed.

She took a long gulp of the liquor and smiled at the burn in her throat. Jace took a seat beside her and began to run his hands through her hair. She closed her eyes to the sensation of his fingers, and he moved slightly so he could rub her scalp. A moan escaped her lips as his fingers worked like magic. The light touch was drugging.

Another few sips and her drink was almost done. His fingers moved to her neck and then her shoulders. She grew lethargic, the combination of drink, his fingers, and the late hour mixing to bring her to the warm glow of sleepiness.

Jace dropped a kiss to her exposed shoulder. He pulled her closer and continued to massage her shoulders and arms. In the crook of his arm, she felt warm and safe.

She yawned, and blackness took over.

*

Jace stood beside the bed he’d just deposited his Sleeping Beauty into. Nestled into the comforter, in the middle of his bedroom, is exactly where he wanted her to be, but he wanted her sober and awake, not drunk and asleep.

When the first texts had come, he’d been excited she had finally contacted him. The long weeks of her ignoring him had been a challenge at first, but after a while, it had worn on him. Tonight, she’d dropped herself right in his lap, ripe for the picking. But then the further the conversation had gone, the more it hadn’t felt right. All he’d worried about was getting her home safe and away from the hundred or so men in the club who could have taken advantage of her.

Men like him.

He knew he wasn’t the best of men. There were many women who would claim injury from his lack of calling after their nights of pleasure. But it seemed after one or two nights, the women who had insinuated themselves into his life had only wanted him for his pretty face, the big cock between his thighs, or his bank account. He was an object, something to flaunt in front of their friends and family, to trap into marriage. They all seemed to have thoughts of the little white house, picket fence, and babies. He wasn’t a Ken to their Barbie and refused to be treated as such.

Kensington wasn’t like the other women. Most women chased after him ruthlessly, throwing themselves at his feet, yet she pretended he didn’t exist, although she didn’t do it all that well. He’d seen the fire in her eyes the few times he’d caught her staring at him. Lust had shaken him to the core when he’d felt her eyes on him, and he knew from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her she would give him a run for his money and wouldn’t bore him like the others.

The first time he’d seen her lounging in a beach chair, watching his volleyball game, he’d been blown away. A slinky two-piece barely covered her delicious curves. He liked robust women, not the stick-thin women who looked like they’d snap like a twig if he gave them a good fucking. Kensington was all woman, full of life and full of fire. He’d known he had to have her from that first day. He’d talked his friend into introducing them. She’d feigned disinterest, but he knew enough about women to know when they were faking. Her eyes had been on him throughout the rest of the day. He’d felt her gaze, even beneath her dark sunglasses, and smiled as she turned her head each time he caught her.

What he’d heard about Kensington from his experience with the new group had perked his interest even more. She was a hard worker, very independent, dated little, and was more focused on career than marriage. Added to the fact she was absolutely stunning, and he was seriously in lust. Once he’d realized she was the real deal, he’d been in pursuit, stealthily like a tiger, until the past few weeks. With her constantly ignoring him, he was going mad, and he’d come right out and flirted with her openly. She’d not responded to his gibes, but her skin had grown pink.

Kensington had wanted him, and it had been enough to keep him intrigued. He’d dreamed of getting her into his bed, of all the things he would do to her lush curves, of all the holes he would fill with his dick. Her sweet, kiss-swollen lips would wrap perfectly around him as he thrust into her mouth. And then he wasn’t sure which would be better, her pussy or her nicely rounded ass. But he was bound and determined to find out.

Now, she
was
in his bed, and he wasn’t going to lay a finger on her. His whole body shook with need; the texting game they’d played had fired him up and gotten him riled and ready. Then, she’d thrown herself at him, desperate for attention, attention he wanted to give her, but not in her condition.

She’d said something about being blown off. Had the men in the club ignored her? He had made claim to her a few weeks before in that very club, saying he would have her and no one else would.

Jace shuddered to think of the anger she’d feel if she knew he may have been the cause for her being an outcast tonight. A smile formed on his lips though. He was an alpha male and had set his sights on the best female in the pack. Those other men recognized what was his. Now he just needed to make her see the same. His body yearned to take her, make her his, but not like this. Reeling it all back in, he did everything in his power not to rip both their clothes off and find abandon between her thighs after waking her with his kiss.

Her honey-blonde hair spilled around her, cascading over his pillow. His fingers itched to run through the curling tresses. The moonlight streaming in through the window made the strands and her skin appear almost white. She looked like an angel who’d fallen from heaven and landed in his bedroom.

Jace cursed at the ceiling, running a hand over his face to stop his wayward thoughts.

For once in his life, he was going to be a better man, one who deserved the angelic creature lying in his bed. He was ready to try to fit in the box marked Relationship, if it was with her, and only her.

Jace kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt and watch before nestling into bed beside her, his pants still on and her fully clothed, much to his chagrin.

Chapter 3

Kenzie felt like steel drums were going off in her head as the first rays of bright morning light penetrated her swollen eyelids. Cursing under her breath, she turned away from the sun, trying to find the peaceful unconsciousness of slumber, not that the headache or the foul taste in her mouth would allow her much peace.

It took a few moments for her to realize she’d turned up against a massive chest, but as arms wrapped around her and pulled her close, her eyes popped open in surprise. Her sluggish mind raced as fast as it could to recall the events of the night before and determine where the hell she was.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. How’s the head?”

Once she heard Jace’s low chuckle, everything came back to her in a flood. As she closed her eyes once more, she replayed the most recent events, trying to get the timeline straight. The last thing she recalled was feeling sleepy as he massaged her.

Had they had sex?

She realized she was still fully clothed and nothing felt used and abused, other than her head and her stomach, and that was of her own doing. She’d come here with plans of being sexually fulfilled and then slinking out on a ride of shame. Why hadn’t he held up his end of the bargain?

The room began to spin as she lifted her head, and she moaned, lowering it back down.

“Let me get you some hot tea and Tylenol.” He slowly pulled his arm from below her head and rose from the bed, dropping a kiss on her aching forehead. “Rest up; I’ll be right back.”

She screwed her eyes tight, not wanting to see him at all. Shame filled her for having begged him to fuck her. Yet she almost felt worse that he hadn’t followed through. Perhaps she’d been right the night before, and he hadn’t wanted her. She wasn’t a woman who chased after a man who wasn’t interested.

Rising from the bed, she took note of the immaculate space. The sparse room was incredibly tidy, surprising her a bit. Not only was it spotless, but it was also completely organized, as if he had a little bit of compulsion. She had noticed his clothes were always clean and pressed. He was always flawless, no stray hairs out of place.

Her house was fairly clean, but she had tons of books and tchotchkes all over from her many trips with her friends over the years, and as much as she worked, sometimes the dust bunnies won. But his space was almost
too
neat, with nothing personal to show what he liked or who he was. It made her want to mess him up. She thought back to the night before when he’d dropped his keys and fumbled for them on the patio. She’d seen a tiny crack in his veneer, and it had made him appear less perfect, more human. But that crack was too small. He still felt slightly
inhuman
.

Now that the morning had come, along with the expected hangover, she needed to get the hell out of Dodge, with its immaculate absence of personality. She rose shakily after throwing her legs over the side of the bed, her knees feeling like rubber. She was still completely dressed as she looked down at herself, although she was minus her shoes, which she spied right beside the bed.

Noting a bathroom, she bustled inside and rinsed her mouth out, sneaking a little of his mouthwash to get rid of the bitter taste. She stood for a second, staring at her reflection, amazed at how bad she looked. Then, fingers flying, she fixed her hair and used a towel to wipe away the worst of her makeup smudges. Once she looked halfway presentable, she turned to go back and get her shoes. She slipped her heels on and hastily ambled to the door, which opened before she could reach it.