Page 46 of Raging Fires

Then suddenly she was jumping across the narrow space between them, arms wrapping around his neck, her mouth seeking his. He clamped his arms around her, lifting her up into him, pressing her pelvis against his, grinding into her. Their mouths were fused together, his tongue dancing with hers. He curved his hands over her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh.

He lifted his lips from hers to kiss down the side of her neck, his tongue licking up the drops of water that clung to her skin. She made a helpless little whimper, and that sound of her hunger, her willingness to surrender to him, pounded through him. He wanted her here. Now. He wanted to lift her and have her legs encircle him; he wanted to feel her hot center flush against him. He wanted to push her up against the wall of the house and drive into her heat, feel her close around him.

Jake slid his hand beneath the waistband of her shorts, and down over her tight, round ass—God, she was wearing a thong so flimsy he could rip it in half with barely a tug. The thought was practically enough to make him come right there. He squeezed her cheek, then edged into the crevice between her legs. He stroked her through the thin fabric of her underwear, sliding up and down. He nudged aside the edge of her panties, teasing inward to feel that flood of desire on his skin.

His mouth came back to hers, taking her as his fingers did below. Kelli was making sweet little moans now, her hands moving over his shoulders and back. She shoved her hands into his hair, her fingers clenching and the tiny dart of pain drove his desire higher. Kelli tore her mouth from his and went to his earlobe, taking it between her teeth and nipping gently. She breathed his name, sending shivers down his spine. He ached to be inside her, but he wanted even more to make her come first.

A volley of barks erupted from the porch as the sound of heavy motorcycles rumbled into the parking lot. Jake and Kelli froze. It registered on Jake that they were standing in the open yard, the still-flowing hose soaking the ground at their feet. The house was between them and the parking lot, but if anyone decided to walk around the house, they would be in full view, her biting his ear, his hand down her pants.

Kelli pulled back, and Jake muttered a curse. He relaxed his hold, letting her slide to the ground, intensely aware of her moving over his body. He couldn’t seem to keep it from responding to her forcefully, even now. Kelli practically jumped back from him, her eyes huge, her lips so red and damp and swollen that it was all he could do not to pull her back to him and kiss her again.

“We can’t. Jake, we... oh, God.” She clapped her hand to her mouth. “No. We can’t.”

On the other side of the house, the engines had cut off, and the barking quieted to a few warning woofs. He could hear the sound of men’s voices talking and laughing, moving away toward the bar. Kelli ran to the corner of the house and peeked around the edge, then tore around it, leaped onto the porch and was inside the house in an instant.

Jake stood for a moment, hands on his hips. What the hell had he gotten himself into? He turned and went over to cut off the faucet. Walking around the house, he sank down on the porch beside the dog and simply sat, staring dazedly across the parking lot. He was never going to survive this year.

Chapter Twenty-two

Kelli stayed in her room the rest of the evening. She knew it was pathetic and cowardly, but she simply could not face Jake. Not now. Not while she was still lit up like a Christmas tree inside and afraid she would jump on him like a sex-starved maniac even though her stomach already churned with humiliation at her loss of control.

What was the matter with her? So, yes, it had been months—okay, almost two years, if you wanted to get technical about it, since the last time she had sex. The two short-lived relationships and a handful of dating attempts after her divorce had all fizzled out like wet fireworks, leaving her afraid that her failed marriage had ruined her sex life forever. But the thing that was really the matter with her was that Jake’s mouth and hands and rock-hard abs had set off a storm of desire that proved it wasn’t her failed marriage, it was Jake that had ruined her sex life forever.

She’d forgotten what a good kisser he was. How expertly his hands found all the little spots that turned her hot and wet and fuzzy-minded. Kelli let out an exasperated sigh—just thinking about it was doing the same thing to her all over again.

The man was a menace. Of course, he had doubtless had lots of practice since they broke up. She’d seen the pictures of him with models and actresses and random media ‘influencers.’ He’d been spreading himself around all over Miami after their divorce while she’d been spending her first year alone and crying and coming to the realization that Jake was never going to come after her and win her back by being the man she’d first fallen in love with.

After that she’d tried dating, but she’d finally given up and deactivated her Tinder and Bumble accounts last year.

Then Jake returned to Phoenix. And now all those little nerve endings were standing up and sizzling like crazy. Just looking at him made her get that heavy ache deep in her abdomen, and when he’d whipped off his shirt this afternoon, she’d been flooded with desire. You’d think she’d never seen him shirtless before. Although, actually, that was probably because she had seen him shirtless—an ingrained Pavlovian response.

Kelli had thought she was long over him. Her mind was over him. It was just her body that wasn’t.

She should have had more control. But Jake had been nice when they talked about her mother yesterday, and it had been fun the other night when they watched Halloween H20, and then she’d seen that he had bought Not Toby the food and bowls and that dog house… She’d let herself slide into an old feeling. From when Jake had been the old Jake.

That was the problem. She’d let her guard down, ignored her own rules and boundaries. She had relaxed, fallen back into that comfortable role. Which had been a bad mistake, an error she had to keep from committing again.

Because he wasn’t the same old Jake. He was bitter, and he hated her. He was with her only because he’d been forced to; he blamed her for the way he’d messed up his career. And the fact that he’d made out with her this afternoon—and doubtless would have been willing to do a lot more—didn’t mean he’d changed his feelings for her. It was just that she was here and available and he hadn’t had sex in weeks.

At least as far as she knew. That thought brought her up short. Had Jake actually been following his wedding vows? He didn’t consider himself married. He was frequently gone, and maybe it didn’t have anything to do with that promise he’d made to maintain his distance. Maybe he wasn’t always working out at the stadium or hanging out with Asa and his teammates when he wasn’t here. Or maybe he was hanging out with them in bars, drinking and talking to girls. After all, she was nearly always at work until 2:30; he had plenty of time to hook up before Kelli saw him.

Not that she cared. She didn’t consider them really married either. There was nothing to say they couldn’t see someone else. Kelli could date, too, if she wanted; the fact that she wasn’t interested in it didn’t have anything to do with any feelings for Jake. It was just that it would look bad—which, of course, was something that Jake wouldn’t care about. She would feel guilty even though their marriage vows were merely a sham. But Jake wasn’t into guilt. He had that necessary sports player ability to forget past errors. ‘Don’t let one mistake create another.’

Why was she even thinking about this? She needed to focus on the issue that mattered: how to avoid a repetition of what had happened this evening. She had to stay away from Jake, not allow the little slips she’d made the past few days. She shouldn’t turn to him again with a problem or try to be friends. She had managed it at first. It had been lonely and uncomfortable, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was protecting herself from the inevitable pain that accompanied a relationship with Jake Riley.

Jake wasn’t there the next day when she got up. He had been gone last night, too, when she had finally slipped down the hall to the bathroom before she went to bed. Kelli wondered if he had stayed out the whole night. And where.

She walked across to the Blue Shack earlier than she had to, as she did most days. Kelli used the excuse of eating lunch there and getting her paperwork done before the bar got noisy. She had hired a new waitress, Ashley, the day before to replace one who had quit without notice last week, so she spent some time training her before turning her over to Carly to trail around after the experienced waitress, watching Carly work. Kelli hoped Ashley was a quick learner because on Saturday a popular band would be playing and the place would be crowded.

Kelli went to her office and opened her laptop. There wasn’t really any business work to do, so she decided to check the Blue’s social media. She posted about the up-coming performance, then went to her phone to post on Instagram. She ought to take a picture of the latest addition to their beer list and put that up tomorrow. Maybe she’d ask the new waitress if she wanted to be the one holding the can. People were probably getting tired of seeing her or Naomi, and Ashley was pretty.

She wondered if Jake had an Instagram account. It didn’t seem like something he would do. She put in his name, and to her surprise, he had an account. Kelli scrolled through the photos. They seemed to be recent. There he was in front of the stadium. Then there were several pictures of him working out. Well, she guessed that was like Jake; he’d always loved the attention, and clearly that hadn’t changed.

Kelli switched to Instagram on her laptop so the pictures were larger. This was really stupid. She’d just vowed she was going to go back to her living-with-Jake rules, and here she was, looking at all these pictures of a shirtless Jake pumping iron. The next picture was of Jake and some blonde woman with flawless skin and a strapless dress. Had that been here? It was among his recent shots. Who was she? And when had he gone to some fancy party? She’d have remembered him going out in a tux because he looked really hot in a tux.

She leaned closer. No, this looked more like a red-carpet photo. A premiere or opening of some kind. Surely she would have heard about that. There was a sign there on the right. She squinted. MI and a little slanted leg of a letter. Okay. It was Miami. So this was an old photo he’d thrown up there, which for some reason made her feel better. Although she had to wonder why he’d chosen to post this particular shot.

She scrolled down. More workout, something at a beach, him with some weird contraption on his leg—must be him rehabbing after his injury. His face was strained, like it hurt. Another pic of him and some girl. And that was it. No pictures of him and her, of course.