NextMoves Read online

  Jocelyn ground her feet into the linoleum. Who the hell did he think he was? Damn presumptuous to make a reservation without asking. She should walk out the door and grab some peanut butter crackers from the vending machine. But it had been a long time since she’d met a man with the nerve to try something like this. Too long, the clenching of her thighs screamed at her. Maybe a little flirtation, far from home, work and incessant obligations could be fun. It was just a meal, no relationship potential she had to guard against. What would be the harm? When her stomach started making bear calls loud enough to grab the attention of half the restaurant, she opted for dinner and jogged to where the hostess stood next to a small round table in the back corner of the room.

  A white tablecloth partially hid the red-and white-checkered plastic cover. Sugar packets and condiment bottles competed for space with lime-green ceramic candle sticks, Riesling on ice and caviar out of a can. Framed photos ripped from old Life magazines covered the restaurant walls, leaving snippets of black-and-red-poppy wallpaper visible. “Mr. Wyatt should be here shortly, so just sit, relax and let us take care of you. Let me start by pouring you a glass of champagne.”

  Jocelyn swallowed a giggle. “Thank you.” She plopped down, took a sip and enjoyed the bubbles tickling her nose despite the wine’s cloying sweetness. Jared might have a controlling streak but he also had charm.

  * * * * *

  Jared hot-footed it to the restaurant after the hostess called. He scanned the dining room several times until he found a much softer Jocelyn. The auburn hair, no longer tied in a knot, spilled over her shoulders, teasing that elegant neck he’d earlier ached to taste. A heart-shaped locket dangled between full, shapely breasts showcased by a form-fitting v-necked t-shirt. The informal look washed some of the power out of her and made her look lighter, more vulnerable. Those full red lips promised wicked pleasures. She was ice and fire all packaged up, waiting to be opened. Good call, Wyatt. Peeling back some of the layers that made up Jocelyn Wade might prove a delightful evening.

  He sauntered over. “You wear casual well. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  “Thanks, but I’m still deciding if I should hit you for organizing dinner without asking or thank you for saving me from an hour wait.”

  Still standing, he leaned in close enough to smell her rose-lime scent. Subtly feminine, just like her. “Thank me, definitely.”

  “I don’t know. This, uh, champagne could beat Splenda in a taste test.”

  His laughter joined hers. “Before we start the festivities, I do have a condition.”

  She scooted her chair closer to the table, away from him. “Why do you follow up charming with annoying?”

  “Just part of my magic. Here it is. No phones. Just you and me.”

  “You want me to take a night off?”

  “Yep.”

  Manicured pearl nails tapped the table while she considered his request. “Okay, but let’s go whole hog, take work off the table. We can’t discuss it at all.”

  “Deal.” Plunking down in the chair across from her, he poured himself a glass of the sparkling wine. “Aargh. You weren’t kidding.” He chuckled, his eyes crinkled and abs rippled in delight.

  Jared’s tendency to dictate terms annoyed most of her but a part of her, so hidden she’d almost forgotten about it, reveled in a man tough enough to try. She let herself melt in his way-too-blue eyes accentuated by a teal shirt and the overgrown raven hair curling around an upturned collar. “You were great with that child earlier. How’d you know what to do?”

  “Can’t answer that. It’s a work question.”

  Interesting. “Let’s try this again. Sports are a big part of your life. What do I win if I guess your athletic passions?”

  “You guess my first love, you can choose the prize.”

  “A gentleman, I’m impressed. Soccer’s the easy first answer, but it’s neither your first love nor your abiding obsession. You, sir, have been and always will be a fighter.”

  His eyes widened so much she’d swear they’d pop out. “How’d you know?”

  “Your nose, broken several times. That odd angle to your left eyebrow, it didn’t grow back straight after one blow too many, and the rhythm of your walk. The alpha-male thing oozes out with every step you take. My dad owned a boxing gym. I watched him train my older brothers.”

  “Well done.” His voice burst with appreciation. “Before we talk prizes, give me a chance to get even. Stand up and let me take a good look. The skirt you wore earlier hid too much. I want more to go on.”

  With a smile, Jocelyn stood, leisurely spun in a circle and offered him a lingering look at her body. “Seen enough?” Her skin tingled as his eyes consumed every inch of her tall frame. A hungry lupine grin crossed his face. She was having fun and it felt wonderful.

  “Middle distance track…and team captain.”

  With a quirk of her head, she motioned for him to continue. Next thing she knew he was at her side, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her around one more time. “The lean solid muscles here,” his hand trailed down her spine, across her waist to her thigh, “and here indicate a life of running distances.”

  He paused and shuffled closer. Musk and sandalwood filled her nose. His mouth hovered over hers, near enough for a kiss. “And no, I haven’t seen nearly enough.”

  Fingers flitting across her thigh and the hint of skin against her lips had her body clenching in anticipation. “Seems we’re tied for first place.” Hunger burning white hot through her veins, she dived onto the seat and crossed her legs, desperate to get the pulses whipping through her body under some kind of control. Flirtation was one thing. The heat between them was growing into something altogether different.

  The waiter bought her some time, trying to cram steaming plates of pink seafood, bowls of plump, cream-covered berries and sides of green and yellow vegetables on the overcrowded table.

  “What turned you on to boxing?” Jocelyn asked, feeling steadier.

  “My coach. I got into a lot of fights as a kid. The school convinced my aunt to sign me up for a boxing program to channel my youthful energy.”

  “You must’ve been carrying quite a lot of anger. Why?” Maybe she shouldn’t have asked that question. Whether it was the wine or his intense, unwavering gaze reprogramming her brain, she wanted to know more about him.

  “Nothing like going for the jugular.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dig too deep. I’ve got scars of my own so I do understand.”

  He patted her hand. “No worries, I’m a big boy, it’s an old story. I don’t mind sharing.”

  He shifted back in his seat and brushed imaginary lint off his pants leg. “It’s simple, really. Never knew my dad. My mother couldn’t handle it and left me with an overworked aunt. Frannie raised me the best she could but I ate babysitters for breakfast and had too much energy for a one-bedroom high-rise to contain. School was no better. Teachers missed my dyslexia. Put those ingredients together…the perfect angry-child recipe.”

  Pain sliced through Jocelyn’s heart. His cold, neutral tone sounded too practiced. The big boy still carried little-boy hurts inside. Her daughter grappled with attention deficit disorder and she knew firsthand the frustration and loneliness Kylie suffered. Even with an absent father, Kylie still had a family to support her. Jared had fought through it alone.

  “Boxing saved my skin and bought me a ticket to a better life.”

  And one ripped, sexy body.

  “Why didn’t you put on the gloves? You have the gumption and I’d bet my last nickel that you spent your childhood trying to beat your brothers.”

  Her chin hit her knees. No one figured out she wanted in the ring. Ever. His tone made it clear he approved of it. She chewed the lining of her cheek to control the desire blasting her control to shreds. “My dad said no. I made his life a living hell for it but then my mom got cancer. The chemo knocked her out so I had to help around the house. I let it drop.”

  �
��I’m sorry about your mother.” Jared leaned forward. His tongue licked along his full bottom lip. She wondered what those lips tasted like. His stare bore into hers. “This conversation is getting way too serious. Let’s lighten it up. Tell me something about yourself—something secret, something that reveals more about you than a job title or an address.”

  Never breaking eye contact, he brushed an auburn curl behind her ear. The softness of his fingers sliding against her skin distracted her into silence. “Tell me,” he said. The male heat of him fed the fire already consuming her.

  Her brain too scrambled for rational thought, she pulled her t-shirt and bra strap to the side. “Here, Thor’s hammer is tattooed above my heart.”

  His hand blazed a trail from ear to throat to tat. With the edge of his nail, he traced around the hammer. The heat radiated down her breast and she leaned toward him, wishing those fingers would stroke her tautening nipple.

  “So, what does that tell me about you?” The rasp of his voice brought her back to the table.

  “That I was naïve once. Nick Thorsten was blond, built and Thor-like in all ways down to his hammer tattoo. This was my wedding present to him, to show the world I belonged to him. He left two years later, when life got too hard, the responsibilities too overwhelming. I never saw it coming.” Jocelyn averted her eyes to hide the pain that still welled up when she let herself think about Nick, a bad habit she’d suppressed long ago.

  Jared’s fingers glided up under her chin and lifted her face to his. “Why didn’t you remove it or have it altered?” He brushed his lips against hers, fast and light like a whisper. A shudder slinked from lips to pussy. She should move away. Far away. They were long past flirtation. If she didn’t stop this… His eyes locked on to hers and stopping it got pushed to the bottom of the options list.

  “I thought about having it removed but I keep it as a reminder—that lust isn’t love and that trust comes from actions, not promises whispered sweetly in the dark.”

  “I burned all photos and tokens of my ex. I wanted no reminders.” A tic spasmed in his jaw. His face tensed into a blank mask.

  Jocelyn couldn’t stop herself from reaching out, running her fingers down his rigid jawline. “Tell me.”

  “We’d been married for three years, fighting continuously for the last year of it. She put her career ambitions first, never understood why I didn’t do the same and too much of us got lost in her decisions. Having my choices questioned all the time wore me out.”

  Awareness ripped through Jocelyn’s gut. “I remind you of her.”

  “You remind me of why I once loved her—strength, fearlessness, passion. I had lost sight of that.” His face tensed, emphasizing the tight angles of his chin and cheekbones. Grabbing her hand, he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “And I remind you of him, don’t I?”

  She nodded. “Yes, an explosive cocktail of charm and caveman.”

  His laughter was a live, sexy thing that wrapped around her body in a rough caress. His lips slid across her palm, making butterfly-soft kisses. “Let’s reawaken those pieces of ourselves, let them into the light again. Spend the night with me?” His intensity rolled over her, drowning her in her own need as well as his.

  There it was, on the table. A promise of healing and pleasure wrapped up in shimmering eyes, wide shoulders and a killer smile. Hell. She needed to rediscover her heart and taste a little joy as much as he did. One night. No commitments. That she could do.

  She took her hand back, dipped a finger in the caviar and licked it off. Her tongue glided across the edge, lapping at the gelatinous black eggs. Putting it in her mouth, she sucked the remaining juices.

  Jared’s gaze never strayed from her lips as he leaned toward her and placed one hand on her leg. “Is that my answer?”

  Finished, she picked up a strawberry and traced it along his lower lip. “Play with me.”

  He swirled his tongue around the end of the berry then nibbled the tip, his fingers teasing the inside of her thigh. “Maybe we should have dessert upstairs.”

  Jared could barely think as he took her arm and they headed toward the elevator. Her scent and lush breasts pressed against his arm unleashed a fury of desire in his belly. His dick strained to escape his jeans and his mouth watered to taste her long, creamy neck, overripe lips and swollen nipples her shirt couldn’t restrain. Her power called to him, promising a night of physical abandon and the chance to cut loose with a woman whose need and ferocity equaled his. She’d not only take him, she’d drive him. The fight in her an aphrodisiac that juiced his brain and body.

  Even as lust bled from his every pore, he knew he headed for something more than sex. One night, maybe, but the evening promised meaning and a remembrance of something long lost. He was going to enjoy her and relish the pleasure of once again loving a woman whose strength matched his own.

  Chapter Three

  Jocelyn held on to Jared’s arm as they stumbled into the elevator, soft curves pushed tight against his hard angles. The door closed with a ping and he pulled her closer. Kisses, light as a whisper, tickled her lips and glided down her jaw and throat. Lost in each other, they somehow staggered to her room, fumbling keys and locks, until they found themselves inside.

  After kicking the door closed behind him, Jared spread his arms wide and gripped the threshold. Overpowering the sparse room, his well-over-six-foot frame made Jocelyn, at five foot eleven, feel dainty. His erect cock straining against the fabric of his jeans had her licking her lips.

  “I want to see you naked.” His eyes already burned her clothes away.

  So he wanted a show. She’d give him one and flashed a lascivious smile that promised pleasure and so much more. Her sandals came off and she rolled her shirt up, inch by inch, to show off her lean, toned stomach and lush breasts barely covered by a black lace bra. Shirt and bra dropped to the floor. Cool air splashed against her, tightening her nipples until they ached for touch. Running her hands across them for relief, she watched Jared’s eyes darken into an inky, insatiable blackness.

  Her hand slid under the waistband of her jeans, unfastened the top button, then loosened the zipper tooth by tooth. Her jeans remained on but open to tease him with exposed skin and black lace. She stepped closer, right breast held toward him. “Taste me.”

  Cupping her chin, he kissed her instead, wet and wild. His tongue thrust deep, making wide sweeps along the soft inner skin of her cheek and under her lips. Her hands trailed up the cotton of his shirt and encircled his neck. The kiss intensified. Jocelyn’s insides flamed to life, burning away the numbness that had sunk through her bones for longer than she dared to admit. A chill prickled along her skin when he broke away.

  He stroked the length of her spine, his musky scent filled her nose as he nibbled words in her ear. “I’ll be all over those breasts when you’re done. But first I want you naked. Now strip.”

  An order? Rebellion brewed hot, pumping juice through her channel and steel through her spine. Her body stood stone still.

  Jared captured her left breast and volleyed the nipple with his thumb until a moan escaped her lips. “Strip. Show me how wet and hungry you are for this passion between us.”

  More liquid heat flooded her panties. No one, not even her ex-husband ever made her cream like this. He was a fucking caveman and she loved it. Jeans and panties off, she posed nude in front of him, head held high.

  His eyes raked over every inch of her. “Beautiful.” He kissed a rose peak and flicked a circle around it with his tongue. “A taste of things to come. Undress me now.”

  Her fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons in a rush to get him naked. Liquid oozed sticky like honey down her thighs, urging her to make faster work of it. The explosives detonating under her skin destroyed any lingering resistance she might have had as she followed another order. This game excited her—she’d take her turn…later.

  Broad shoulders tapered to a lean, muscled waist. Curly black hair swathed his chest and arrowed down
his stomach. Delicious. A puckered white scar ran from his right collarbone to his bellybutton, a remnant of a past fight, she guessed. She bit one hardened nipple, feeling his intake of breath while she massaged it between her teeth and tongue. He tasted salty sweet and she wanted more. Gorging on his flavor, she licked and lapped at his chest, the silken hair tickled her lips, the scar smooth against her tongue. Jared groaned from the lower recesses of his belly, igniting a yearning in her to heal the hurts he carried and take them both to a paradise so sublime they could pretend to be whole again.

  She went for his fly, tugging his jeans and silk boxers to the ground. Incredible. Jocelyn ran her forefinger up the newly freed erection. Her nail scraped against the engorged vein that ran from base to tip and her fingers played with the crest and the droplets of cum seeping from the slit. Unable to resist any longer, she snaked one hand around his neck and pulled him into a kiss while the other stroked that rigid, throbbing dick.

  With a growl, Jared sucked her tongue with desperate, grasping pulls. His hands trailed down her belly to her swollen clit, massaging it between his thumb and forefinger. Blissful, his fingers were blissful. His plundering moved to her neck, collarbone until finally he seized a breast in his wet, warm mouth and feasted. When he had his way with one bullet-hard nipple, he kissed his way to the other and lapped until she couldn’t stop the moans.

  “Now, Jared, now.” She ground against his thigh, aching for his cock inside, pounding pleasure through her.

  “We’ve a few more things to do first.”

  “No, take me, baby, please. God, please fuck me. I need it so badly.” Was that her voice begging? No one had ever brought her to this.

  “I’ll ride you good, baby, promise, but now I’m claiming my prize. I want to watch you pleasure yourself.”

  Desperate to have him as hot and heaving as she was, Jocelyn swayed to the bed, feeling his eyes bore through her back with each step. The musky scent of his lust intensified the farther away she moved. Playing games was her forte and this was one hell of a game they were playing. On the bed, back pressed against the pillows, legs splayed wide, she made her move.