Sexy Jerk Read online

  I throw my leg over hers. “I’ll take your different every day of the week, and twice on Sunday. It works great with mine.”

  She laughs even harder, and then turns to face me. “Are you serious about the no sex thing tonight?”

  “Dead serious,” I tell her, waffling now that she asked, but trying my best to go through with it.

  She turns around and settles her head on her pillow.

  I adjust my head to be closer to hers. “About the box I gave you earlier,” I whisper in her ear, “I’ve never done that, and I thought it would be something we could experience for the first time together.”

  She flips back toward me again. “You haven’t?”

  I shake my head.

  “Really?”

  “Really,” I grin.

  “We’ll have to change that, won’t we.” At that she twists back around and a few minutes later I can hear the soft sound of her breathing.

  She’s fallen asleep.

  I lean over and whisper, “Goodnight, Tess,” and then I hold her tightly.

  Something inside me feels different.

  Something I haven’t felt for a woman since I was ten years old.

  Something that feels an awful lot like love.

  Tess

  I AWAKE TO a hard male body wrapped solidly around me. The clock on the table beside me glows four fifty-eight.

  Not time to get up yet.

  I close my eyes tight and try to go back to sleep.

  I can’t.

  My mind is thinking about what Nick said, and the dirty thing, not the words of wisdom. “Now that that is settled, do you want to make up by sitting on my face?”

  Such a dirty, dirty boy.

  And I already established that I’m a dirty, dirty, girl, so of course, I dreamt about what he said. The dream was so real that my clit aches right now. He proved his point—sex isn’t the only thing on his mind.

  And I believe him.

  That doesn’t mean I don’t want to have it, though.

  With my ex, sex was always on the fly, squeezed in here or there. I was young when we met, and still worried that I was too promiscuous, so I held back. Not that it mattered, most of the time we were like two ships that passed in the night. He came to bed when I got up.

  With Nick, it’s different. I like the routine he and I have created. The time we have carved out to be together in both the morning and the night.

  It’s nice.

  Makes me feel wanted.

  Horny, I push myself back, rubbing my ass against his groin. In response, he squeezes me harder, but doesn’t say anything. I do it again, and then one more time.

  The stubble of his jaw slides over my shoulder and then his hot mouth is in my ear. “Good morning.”

  I push myself back again and feel the hardness of his cock against me. “Good morning,” I respond.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, nipping at my ear.

  “You’re a smart man, I think you can figure that out.”

  He peers over my shoulder toward the clock. “It’s early. Go back to sleep for another hour.”

  I push myself back against him again. “I can’t.”

  He rests his head on my shoulder. “Why not?”

  I twist around to look at him. “I can’t stop thinking about what you said last night, and I keep dreaming about it.”

  His sleepy eyes blink a few times. “About seeing where things go?”

  I shake my head. “No, about the way you wanted to make up with me.”

  A gorgeous smile spreads across his full lips.

  “But if you’re too tired, I can just take care of myself.”

  In a beat, he has me on my back, my arms pinned over my head, and he’s hovering over me. “There will be no masturbating without me present to watch.”

  I look at him incredulously. “I don’t think so.”

  He presses his growing erection into me. “I mean it. I want to know if I’m not satisfying you.”

  I stare up. “Sometimes it has nothing to do with that. Sometimes the itch just arises.”

  “Then if we’re not together, call me.”

  I consider this. “If I can’t masturbate on my own, then neither can you.”

  He lets go of my arms and both his brows lift. “Tess, a man’s needs are different.”

  I rise slightly. “That is so not true.”

  “It is. I usually have one in the shower every morning if,” he pauses, “you know?”

  “If you haven’t gotten laid the night before.”

  “Yeah,” he says sheepishly.

  “I guess you’ll just have to change your morning routine then. Go for a longer run. Do a couple hundred push-ups. Whatever it takes to scratch the itch.”

  He stares down at me. “You really are a little vixen.”

  “Call me whatever you want,” I say, “but what is fair is fair.”

  “Fine,” he mutters.

  “Good, now that that is settled, should I take care of myself, or would you like to help a girl out?”

  He rolls onto his back and lifts his hips, kicking off his boxers.

  I stare at him. At all his glory.

  “Take your panties off,” he growls.

  I love when he does that.

  Still smirking, I stand up and strip.

  He scoots down on the bed so his feet hang off and then holds out his hand. “Crawl up and put your knees on either side of my head.”

  I should be mortified, but I am way too turned on to care about things like embarrassment or shyness.

  When I am up on my knees, his hands go to my ass. “Now use your hands and spread your pussy wide for me,” he commands in a low voice that rumbles with the sexiest sounds of sleepiness.

  I stare down at him, a little uncertain. This is something I have never done.

  “If you spread yourself for me, I can get to all of you. Don’t worry, you’ll love it when I lick my tongue all over every inch of your beautiful pink pussy, and then I’ll love it even more when you come all over my face.”

  His dirty words penetrate deep within me and not only does my clit pulse, but my nipples peak in arousal.

  Immediately, I part myself with my fingers and lower myself down. Almost instantly, his tongue makes contact with me. I jerk and buck slightly, but Nick quickly slides his hands from my ass to my hips and pulls me back down onto his mouth.

  He eats me like he’s a starving man. Licking, sucking, and sliding his tongue inside me and all around me. Before I know it, I’m almost out of my mind with excitement. My arms are grabbing onto the headboard, and I’m moaning, biting down on my lip to keep quiet.

  And then he inserts his fingers in and out of my pussy until they are soaked, and soon he slides them between my ass cheeks and parts me there, like I’d parted my pussy. His wet finger teasing and rimming my opening. When he pushes inside the tiniest bit, I lose all control.

  My orgasm slams into me and I explode into a giant ball of fire.

  Once the last of my tremors fizzle out, I scoot back and sit on his torso, and then I look down. “Oh, my God.”

  Nick looks extremely smug, as he should. “Any chance you could ride my cock right now, the way you rode my mouth?”

  I shake my head. “You have such a way with words,” I tell him, and get to work doing just what he asked.

  This time we both come together, and it feels amazing.

  Afterward, I fall beside him, and he pulls me close enough that I rest my head on his chest.

  Instead of dozing off during the time we have left before his alarm goes off, we catch up on what we missed in each other’s lives yesterday.

  Nick asks me how I found the place Mathias Bigelow wanted to rent me. I tell him a realtor that someone in my apartment building knew about from a friend.

  “What is his name?”

  “Derrick Williams,” I tell him.

  “Interesting,” he says.

  “Why is that interesting?” I ask.

&nb
sp; “It just is,” he answers.

  I shrug and then tell him about the café, the issues, and my hopes the loan comes through fast.

  “I can help,” he offers.

  I kiss his smooth chest. “I can’t take your money. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, it’s just that I have to do this on my own.”

  “Okay, then I can do the labor. And Ash and Hayden will help, I’m sure. It might take a little longer because we’ll have to do the work after hours, but we can do it.”

  I rise up onto my elbows. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Yeah, I would.”

  “Thank you,” I kiss his lips softly, “but let’s cross our fingers that the loan comes through before we have to resort to that.”

  He chuckles and runs his fingers down my back. “If it doesn’t, and I have to do the work, I’ll be sore, and I might require nightly rub-downs. Everywhere. All over my body.”

  I grin at him. “I’ll even call you sir while I’m oiling you up.”

  “Only if you ask me if I want a happy ending,” he jokes.

  This time I laugh, and when I lay my head back down, I can’t help but wonder . . .

  A happy ending.

  Is that even possible for me?

  Nick

  THE GYM AT the Preston School looks like something you’d find on one of those reality TV shows.

  Sure, there are the typical items—a trampoline, balance beam, and padded walls, but there is also a rock climbing wall and an obstacle course.

  Drop off is in the gym today. Max squeezes my hand as I lead him inside for the last time. Fiona and Ethan’s flight is due to land at any moment, and they’ll be picking him up. Tess offered to pick them up, but Ethan has arranged for a car.

  “I’m going to miss you,” Max says, looking up at me.

  I squat down. “I’ll miss you too, but I’ll be over to visit.”

  He frowns. “It won’t be the same.”

  I rub my hand over the top of his curly hair. “What makes you say that?”

  “Tess won’t be there with you.”

  I crook my finger. “What if she will?”

  He stares at me, confused.

  He’s not quite three, so I have no idea how to explain our situation. “How about I make sure to bring her along when I come? Would you like that?”

  Max shakes his head vigorously.

  I can’t help but laugh, and then I scoop him up for a hug.

  Just as I set him down, his classmates begin playing on the mini balance beam. “I gotta go,” he yells taking off.

  “Don’t run,” his teacher calls.

  “Bye, Max,” I say, sadness setting in.

  As I walk away, I realize how much I’ve gotten used to the little champ. It might have only been two weeks, but after babysitting him I feel like something in my life is missing.

  It was only four months ago that I turned thirty and thought my life would remain the same exact way for the next ten years because I like things the way they were. I believed that being single was where it was at. I hadn’t foreseen ever wanting to change anything about my life.

  Now, though, I’m actually feeling slightly jealous of Ethan—with his house and family.

  Could I have that?

  My cell rings, and as I look down at my screen, I shake off the weird thoughts. “Hello.”

  “Nick, it’s me,” Hayden says.

  Still somewhat dazed, I open my car door. “Hey, Hayden, I’m just on my way in. What’s up?”

  “Remember those four clients Natasha showed some of our rental properties to last week?”

  Hopping in, I quickly start the Rover. “The ones that Bigelow undercut?”

  “Yeah, those ones. You’re never going to guess who the realtor was that sent them our way?”

  I pull out and head south. “Derrick Williams.”

  “You got it. And he’s also the agent on record for the sale of the building I lost last week.”

  “Are you kidding me?

  “No.”

  The roads are clean today, and I hit the gas. “How’d he find out about that one?”

  “I’m not certain, but he was in the office last week. Natasha doesn’t recall discussing anything like that with him, but the file could have been on her desk. All he had to do was glance down and see the address.”

  I change lanes and move faster. “He’s spying for Bigelow. Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I wish I was. The only bright side is the prick has no idea we’re on to him. He called Natasha today and wants to stop by to discuss two new clients.”

  A grin breaks across my mouth. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  I can hear him flipping pages. “You’re goddamn right I am.”

  The day is getting brighter by the minute. “Tell Natasha to hold Williams off until tomorrow. That will give us time to find something.”

  “I’m way ahead of you. I already have Ash looking for a piece of property right now to meet our needs.”

  At that I laugh. “Tell him, the shittier the better. Look in Englewood. And I’ll see you in a few to finish discussing all the details.”

  Hayden hangs up and I ponder for a moment if we really want to go to war with Bigelow.

  Then I think, Fuck it. He deserves it.

  Let the game of bait and switch begin.

  Tess

  SOMETIMES LIFE GETS in the way of personal news.

  Fiona came home from her honeymoon with the flu, and because of this she was in bed for five days, and then Ethan had to fly to Miami for three days earlier this week, and Nick worked late the past two nights.

  That is how a week and a half has passed before Nick and I have the opportunity to tell Fiona and Ethan that we are . . . together.

  Together.

  It’s the word we both decided to use to describe us.

  Boyfriend and girlfriend sounded so immature. Going out seemed too casual. And the word item sounded way too old fashioned. And a couple, well, although we’d spent every night together at Nick’s place since Ethan and Fiona returned, the phrase made things feel like they were moving too fast.

  Together—that worked.

  And so it is Friday night, and while Jace’s new nanny, the one Nick suggested Jace get only after I prodded him, babysits Max and Scarlett, Nick is joining Ethan and Jace for a boys’ night out, and I’m taking Fiona out for a girls’ night.

  The plan is that we both tell our respective friends about our relationship while we are alone with them, and then all of us will meet up at a club later tonight.

  Fiona and I agreed to meet at RPM Steak in the River North neighborhood at seven. This gives me just enough time to go back to my apartment, which I haven’t been to in days, and shower and change.

  Feeling on top of the world, I stop at the door and look over my shoulder to give the café one last look around. With the loan money having been secured just yesterday, things will start moving fast next week. I should be able to have all the equipment and fixtures delivered, the menus printed, and I can start hiring the staff.

  The brutal chill hits me as soon as I pull the door open. Quickly, I turn with my key in hand and lock it. Just as I’m about to rush around the block to the lot my car is parked in, I notice a black line drawn through one of the help wanted signs posted on the large window.

  I’d advertised online and in the paper of course for the chef position, but the rest of the jobs weren’t as crucial, so earlier today I’d hung a couple of signs inside the café windows.

  Walking up to the window, I look closer at it. The sign had read, “Help Wanted. Come inside to inquire.” Now it reads, “Help Wanted. Go to 6959 S. Elizabeth Street to apply,” and the other sign is gone.”

  Odd.

  Someone obviously thinks they’re being funny by sending my potential employees to Englewood.

  I wrinkle my nose in annoyance.

  Backing up, I go inside and tear the sign down, tossing it on my makeshift des
k. Tomorrow or Monday I’ll have to purchase some more. For now though, I focus on getting home.

  I’m nervous about telling Fiona.

  Back at my small apartment, I shower, and then contemplate what to wear. For some reason I want to look extra nice tonight, so I decide to go ahead and dig through a couple of unopened clothing boxes to find something shimmery and sexy. Having lived in New York City for so long, I had acquired a very nice wardrobe.

  The nice pieces I bought, I did so at bargain basement prices. Sale shopping is in my veins. The nice pieces Ansel bought me were of course from Barneys.

  Ansel liked me to look like an uptown girl. He chose to ignore the fact that I was anything but. Hey, I grew up in a dysfunctional family that lived at best in a middle class neighborhood. That fact couldn’t be changed.

  Talking to him though, you’d think I grew up in the hood. And perhaps he wasn’t that far off.

  Regardless of what clothes were on my back, I knew I wasn’t the girl he wanted me to be. How could I be when he wanted me to be who I wasn’t.

  Looking back, he wasn’t that much different from my parents, I just never saw it back then.

  But I do now.

  Shaking off the memories, I continue my search. Once I find a top that is perfect, I get dressed and put my makeup on. Then I play with my hair a little, leaving it loose and wavy. Next, I slide into a pair of sexy pumps that make my legs look even longer, and hope like hell I don’t slip on the ice. Opting for my short leather jacket, I shrug it on and then pull up the Uber app on my phone. Within five minutes, I’m on my way to meet Fiona.

  The restaurant is loud and packed. I glance around and spot, Fiona talking to the guy at the reception counter. I make my way toward her and watch as the guy laughs at whatever it is she’s telling him, and then he grabs two menus. I shake my head—she has always been such a flirt.

  “Hey, I’m here.” I tap her on the shoulder.

  “Tess,” she says with a huge grin on her face as she turns around to hug me.

  When she pulls back, she looks me over and then gushes, “Wow, you look incredible.”

  Fiona, of course, looks like a sultry movie star, like she always does. Picture Scarlett Johansson from head to toe, and you’ve met Fiona’s doppelganger. Me, I look more like Katie Holmes. “Stop,” I tell her.