Pure Wicked: A Wicked Lovers Novella (1001 Dark Nights) (6 page)

Bristol smiled and tried to make it look genuine. “You’re welcome. On that note, the cookies are in the storage container in front of you if you’d like to pass them out.”

“They’re your cookies. Don’t you want to?” Her sister looked confused.

Her ego could pass up the stroke of hearing the cookies were pretty. A sugary shortbread topped with white icing and black piping to draw the June calendar, the treats had come out well.

“I’m good.” Bristol shook her head. “Jamie and I are going now.”

If he seemed surprised by her proclamation, he didn’t show it.

When her mother scowled in disapproval, Jamie acted as if her sour expression didn’t exist. “She promised to spend some time with me since we’re still getting to know one another.” He reached across the table and snagged a cookie out of the red plastic container. “Nice to meet you all.”

With that, he grabbed her purse from the table and led her out of the restaurant, taking a big bite of the pastry as they hit the door. Just outside, he stopped completely and moaned. “Oh, my god. Are you kidding me? This is a foodgasm. Amazing.”

She grinned up at him. “Did you doubt me?”

“If I ever did, I won’t do it again.” He moaned once more. “I understand why Jayla manipulated you for cookies. I may have to learn strategy from her.”

He wouldn’t be around that long since she only did temporary relationships now, but that was all right. He could flirt all he wanted. “How about an ooey-gooey cinnamon roll? They’re what I’m known for. I’ll make you a pan…” She took a deep breath. “If you’re still with me come morning.”

He froze altogether again—everything except his eyes. They came absolutely alive. Dark, focused, demanding as he scanned her face to see if she was serious. God, he really was hot. She couldn’t wait to see him without the black skullcap, without the clothes that hid what she felt sure would be a breath-stealingly hard body. Not to mention that he was funny and nice and…seemingly on the same wavelength as her.

“Your place?” he asked.

“Is that a yes?”

He grabbed her shoulders, pressing their foreheads together. “That’s a hell yes. Lead the way. I’ll follow you on my bike.”

Bristol didn’t wait for Jamie to change his mind. She dug her keys from her purse and leveled him with a sexy stare full of come-hither. “Keep up.”

“I will,” he vowed. “Then once I have you naked and under me, I’ll get deep inside and fill you up. You won’t have a single regret.”

Bristol refused to regret anything. She was determined they would make this a night to remember.

She hopped in her car, and he followed her on some sleek black-and-chrome motorcycle. Watching him lean over the machine, his thighs hugging the bike as it roared and purred, seeing him handle it with an enticing male grace and agility, totally revved her desire. She’d always dated seemingly good guys…who never turned out to be quite as good as she’d believed. Jamie was all bad boy.

Bristol couldn’t wait.

A few miles shy of Lewisville, her phone rang. Jayla’s contact appeared, and she answered the call right away. “Hey!”

“I tried to save you, but your mama wouldn’t listen.”

“Save me?” Her stomach tightened with worry. “Uh oh. What does that mean?”

“She wants you to come to dinner on Tuesday night—and to bring Jamie.”

“No. Absolutely not. He’s my Saturday night fling.”

“Well, your mama thinks he’s your new man.”

“And whose fault is that?” Bristol groused. “So he and I will have to break up before then.”

Jayla got quiet. That was never a good sign.

“Spit it out. What’s the issue?”

“Your mama invited half of Lewisville, and the townsfolk are starting to think that you’re not interested in hanging onto a man.”

Bristol gripped the steering wheel. “I’m not—not anymore.”

“But you know how they think. You’re either a good girl looking to get married or a ho-bag who doesn’t deserve their business.”

Shock pinged through Bristol. “Seriously?” Then she thought it through and cursed. “Never mind. I know it’s true. So basically, I have to look ready to pair up with Jamie until death do us part before he dumps me horribly—much later—so I can win their sympathy or else no one will buy another mushroom omelet or peach cobbler from me, right?”

“That’s pretty much how it is.”

This debacle would probably be crazy to anyone who didn’t live in a tiny town. But here, where everyone knew everybody and their business, Jayla’s reminder was irrefutable.

“Damn it.” Bristol shook her head. “I’ll deal with it. Thanks for the warning.”

“Thanks for not shooting the messenger.”

Jayla rang off, and Bristol tried to decide exactly how to plead or bribe Jamie into coming to dinner on Tuesday night. Since it sounded as if he was between jobs, hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem. Normally, that would bother her since she preferred to date guys who were gainfully employed. But she wasn’t planning a long-term relationship with Jamie, just sex.

She glanced in the rearview mirror. He still sat about twenty feet off her back bumper as they headed east on Highway 82. Maybe she could sweet talk the man or feed him incredible desserts to make him stay through Tuesday. Or tie him to her bed. That had appeal. Though she’d like it better if he tied her down.

And if the townsfolk found out she fantasized about that, they’d absolutely die.

Still, she imagined what she and Jamie might do together, her autopilot keeping her compact on the highway. When she looked up again, they were cruising into Lewisville. Along the town’s main drag, on the corner, she saw her shop and pulled into the parking lot behind the building as the sun dipped toward the horizon. Lewisville looked its best this time of day. Even then, it still appeared older, sometimes a bit neglected. Most children raised here left the moment they could. Bristol wondered why she’d stayed. Concern for her mother and sister? Memories of Daddy? Or being too afraid to leave everything she’d ever known?

Shaking off the thought, she stepped out of her car, purse on her shoulder, as Jamie climbed off his bike.

“Cute little town,” he said.

“Small.”

“Quaint,” he corrected.

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” She gestured to her place. “Want the tour?”

“Sure.”

She let them both in the back door. She mostly kept supplies here, along with a small office in the corner. Flipping on lights, she led him into her kitchen, which sparkled—just as it did every day after the close of business. Her industrial oven and mixer gleamed. Pristine stainless countertops covered the length of two walls, waiting for her to create the next yummy treat. She’d had to get a loan from a bank in Texarkana since the town’s one financial institution had refused to loan funds to a “kid,” but she’d done it on her own. And she was proud.

“So this is where the dough happens?” He winked.

“Yeah. And up front here…” Bristol directed him through the next door and into the front of the shop with its display cases and bistro tables. “This is the customer area. I can only seat twenty since the building is a converted brownstone and this room is the former parlor. But I’m proud of it.”

Jamie looked around, seeming to take in every nuance. His eyes gleamed with appreciation. “It’s got a lot of charm. Most places I go have none.”

She frowned. “What has you traveling so much?”

“Gotta make a buck.” He shrugged. “So do you live somewhere near your shop?”

She wondered what he did for a living but got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about it. And did she really need to know if they were simply going to have a fling? “Upstairs.”

Maybe it didn’t seem smart to take a stranger home, but instinct told her Jamie wasn’t dangerous. Besides, her family and friends knew who she’d gone home with. Jayla would no doubt check on her.

Bristol took Jamie’s hand and guided him back to her stock room and to the staircase along one wall she and Jayla had restored to its original gleaming wood, just like the floors.

Together, she and Jamie charged up to her apartment, and she unlocked the door. As it creaked open, the last golden rays of the day illuminated her rustic chic space—the cozy white sofa, the glass table built on whiskey barrels, the braided rug under her grandmother’s dining room table.

He glanced around, then cocked his head in thought. “It’s you.”

She smiled and shut the door behind them, flipping on the overhead lights. “Yeah?”

“Comfortable, happy, unvarnished. I like it.”

“Thanks.” He seemed to get her, and that did Bristol’s heart a world of good. Hayden had hated this place. He liked things grander and more formal, not an eclectic grouping of her favorite things. He called antiques “recycled junk.” “But you didn’t come all the way to Lewisville to comment on my decor, right?”

“No.” He turned to her, his hands suddenly engulfing her hips, his stare drilling down into her eyes. “I did not.”

“So what did you come to do?” she challenged.

He gave her a panty-melting grin as he pulled her closer, fitting her flush against his body where she could feel every inch of him. “Make you glad you let me follow you home.”

Bristol swallowed and lifted her face to him. “Are you finally going to kiss me?”

“Eager?”

She gave him a coy shrug. “A little.”

“Let’s see if we can make that a lot.” He took her face in his hands.

She flashed back to the bar, in the instant before their lips had nearly met. Heart pounding, blood racing, need reeling… Yeah, she’d cursed her mother’s interruption. But since then, her anticipation had grown. She wanted him more now. Maybe Mama had done her a favor in the long run. They wouldn’t be interrupted here.

“You’re welcome to try.” She gave him a wicked grin.

He didn’t say a word, just dipped his head toward her. Bristol held her breath. Her heart felt suspended in the moment and too filled with anticipation to beat. No man had ever excited her so much with a mere word or smile. She wondered how she’d handle his kiss.

“Look at me,” he insisted, his voice gruff and low.

Her lashes fluttered open, and she peered up at the deepest, darkest eyes she’d ever lost herself in.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “I wanted to see you, get closer to you. This may be temporary but it isn’t impersonal.”

“It’s not,” she whispered.

He caressed her face, shifted a hand behind her neck, fingers sifting through her hair. Bristol hadn’t thought it possible, but he looked even more serious. “Good.”

Finally, he brushed his lips over hers, the touch full of gentle command and electric thrill. A sizzle flashed over her skin. Her heart started thumping again, now beating a rapid tattoo against her chest.

Jamie pulled back enough to stare down at her again, searching her face for something. He caressed her other cheek with his warm palm. “God, I’ve got to taste your mouth, your skin. All of you.”

Before she could say a word, he captured her lips once more, this time crashing into her, hungry, demanding, as if he couldn’t get to her fast enough. He took her mouth as if he owned her, and Bristol wasn’t prepared for his onslaught. His touch made her dizzy. No,
he
did. His musky scent surrounded her, dangerous, sexy, as he pressed his chest to her beating heart and consumed her.

He was above her, around her, all over her. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she threw her arms around his neck, every bit as desperate to get to him, and gasped into his kiss.

Bristol wrapped the hem of his tank in her fists and tugged up. He grabbed her wrists and swept them over her head, forcing them against the wall as he stared at her, panting, searching, naked hunger tightening his face. “Bedroom?”

The dark snap of his voice made her tremble. “End of the hall.”

“Let’s go.” He bent and lifted her, wrapping her legs around his hips and covering her mouth with his again.

But instead of heading in that direction, Jamie shoved her to the wall and pressed himself against her. She swore she could feel his heart beating wildly. Then she forgot everything when he tightened his grip on her thighs and fitted his hips between them, rocking against her sex, right where he’d made her ache for him most.

Bristol gave a soft moan and writhed against him. It had been a while since she’d had a lover, but she had never felt anything so explosive, so connected. So right.

She pulled at his shirt again, perfectly happy with the idea that they might not make it to the bedroom. Here against this wall would be every bit as amazing, she’d bet.

He tore his mouth from hers. “How the fuck are you undoing me so fast?”

“It’s…”
Chemistry
. “Something’s happening between us. I…”
Need you
.

“Yeah. Me, too.” He plowed her mouth again, his tongue surging deep, his kiss thorough, as if he meant to stake his claim. “I’m glad we’re alone. I want to please every part of you. I want your body to know who owns it tonight. I want you to equate me with pleasure until all you have to do is hear my voice to get wet. I don’t want you to have the slightest urge to ever say no.”

“I can’t imagine ever refusing you anything, Jamie…” She couldn’t catch her breath, and it didn’t matter now. Not as long as he was touching her.

He mumbled a curse before smoothing out his expression. Then he started down the hall finally, every step providing friction between them in the most delicious places. Fresh tingles erupted. Desire settled between her legs—an ache so sharp it stunned. They were still fully dressed. He hadn’t done anything more than kiss her. But Bristol already suspected he would be the man by which she measured all others.

Jamie kicked the slightly ajar bedroom door open wide. Shakespurr scrambled off his perch on the windowsill with a startled meow, then scampered out of the room. Bristol barely noticed because Jamie carried her to the bed and tossed her to the mattress, following her down and covering her body with his own. He broke their kiss only long enough to tear her lacy shell from her torso and toss it across the room. Then he took her mouth again, nipping at her bottom lip and stealing inside, shredding her sanity.

Bristol tugged at his tank, frantically sliding her hands under the cotton to reach the supple skin over hard muscle. She longed to feel him, drink him in, make him a part of her for however long she could.