It took her fingers stroking down his forearm to cover the hand cradling her pussy for him to regain awareness of the intimate touch. Oh, and he remembered with a goddamn vengeance. She put pressure on his hand, moaning into his mouth with the universal language for More, keep going. With their tongues tangling together, lips slanting for frantic tastes, he had no choice. He yanked down her panties and slid his middle finger between her wet folds梥o wet he tore his mouth away so he could curse.
揋od. I would mouth-fuck this little sweetheart for days.?
Rita moaned, her legs clamping around his hand. 揙h, you can抰 say things like that. Or this厀ill be over really fast.?
Her honest reaction sent a delicious throb straight to the base of his cock, making it grow to the point of agony. So acute he felt liquid spill from the tip. Condom. Where were his condoms? Were they even in date? He had to get inside her and ride out the pleasure their bodies were begging for. No. There was a reason he couldn抰 be inside Rita, but he just needed longer to remember why. Why? His mind questioned while his mouth worked on its own. 揧ou like hearing what I want??
揘o.?Her eyes were closed as he worried her clit. 揧es.?
His wrist was loose, his fingers working her in light circles, but he felt anything but loose and light. He felt like a dying man who would receive a free pass to heaven if he could relieve the pressure he felt inside Rita. Her hot body was whip-tight, her need obvious in a way he knew all too well mirrored his own. 揑 want to treat this tiny bud between your legs so special that she pays attention when I walk into a room. I want her to remember my tongue so well you have to excuse yourself when you see me coming because she needs a rubout.?
Rita抯 eyes flew open at that梬hether in shock or in the hopes of encouraging a more detailed explanation梐nd those glazed, golden-brown orbs slammed him back down to earth. He regained a slight handle on reality just in time for her to say, 揑 w-won抰 be here long enough for that.?
揟hat抯 right, isn抰 it? You won抰。？
The ugliness from before began crawling out through the crack in his foundation, even though he wanted to stomp on it, keep it at bay.
Jasper took a pull from her offered mouth, drawing deeply of her healing balm, but that somehow only made it worse, as did the slickness coating his fingers. So delicious, so fucking ripe. But she wouldn抰 be here past tomorrow. Hell, she didn抰 want to be. Everyone thought of him as a fucking truck stop, but it was too much coming from this woman he抎 been dying to convince otherwise. One shot, one failure. 揧ou came here tonight for your turn with the town tramp,?he said against her mouth, steel in his tone. 揟hat抯 all this is. Good ol?Jasper, at your service. Just filling a need.?
Her gaze cleared faster than a summer storm, parting for sunshine to break through. There was a dawning understanding in her eyes, tempered with denial. Alarm, even. He抎 said too much. Way, way too much.
揘o.?She shook her head. 揟hat抯 not right at all.?Before he could process her apology or her devastated expression, she shoved his hand from between her legs and zipped her pants with shaking fingers. 揑抦 sorry I let you think that.?
Then he remembered. Remembered why he shouldn抰 have allowed himself to be pulled under by her kiss. Why do you want to know? So you can laugh at me? His throat dried up at the memory of how she抎 said it. Ah, Jesus. How was it possible they抎 both gotten the wrong idea when his intention had been to finally behave right with a woman? Were they fighting different versions of the same demon?
When she plowed both hands through her dark hair, he reacted to the misery he sensed. 揌old on, now, beautiful Rita.?Fuck, he was practically wheezing with the need for more of her taste. More of her skin beneath his hands. More, just more. 揥e got ahead of ourselves and that抯 my fault.?Desperate for contact, he gripped her hips, positioning her back against the wall. 揕et抯 just stand here a minute while my brain remembers how to operate棓
揘o, I have to go.?
She knocked his hands free and lunged for the door, but he beat her there. Her stricken face brought him up short. What do I do here? He抎 never distressed a woman before, never felt like the ground might open up if he didn抰 coax a smile, make her happy. So he fell back on what he knew, even though he suspected he was damning himself in the process. 揜ita. Two more strokes of that sweet clit and I抎 of had you shaking in my palm. You walk out of here hurting because of me, I might die.?He slid a hand over her pussy and rubbed. 揇on抰 take this away from me, beautiful. It needs me.?And I fucking need you.
When the door banged shut behind Rita a moment later, he slammed his head against it. Only a few seconds passed of him courting denial before he went after her. But she was gone. No way that just happened. No way in hell. Had he forgotten how to treat a woman in the last two years? Even as his mind posed the question, he knew the answer was moot. Rita wasn抰 just another woman. A reality he felt in the marrow of his bones, no matter how soon into their acquaintance. And she was leaving. Before he could correct his massive fuckup. God, he would no sooner laugh at her than he would go canoeing into an erupting volcano. He had to make sure she knew. Once he made it clear to her tonight had been about his own hang-ups, he would formulate his next move.
Ignoring the voices calling for him at the bar, Jasper turned on a heel and strode back to his office to make a phone call.
Chapter Ten
Rita could hear Peggy huffing along behind her, struggling to keep up, but her feet wouldn抰 slow down. At her behest, they were intent on getting inside their motel room as quickly as possible. Oh God, her cheeks had to be stained bright red. Mortified. She was completely mortified.
Honestly, where was her self-respect? On top of being laughed at by two strangers, Jasper had goaded her, all but forcing her to admit she was in the midst of a dick drought, and then梩hen he抎 had the nerve to throw his own self-loathing in her face. Would he do something like that with a normal, socially well-adjusted girl? Nope. He hadn抰 even bothered with the charm once his hand was down her pants and she抎 all but begged him for sex. Then she抎 just been a convenient place to pour his issues.
One of the main reasons she didn抰 date was fear of rejection, fear of someone she actually liked seeing the worst in her. Or, worse, the best in her梐nd deeming it lacking. The way her instructors in culinary school had done when the famous Miriam Clarkson抯 daughter抯 skill proved fair to middling, rather than extraordinary. She抎 avoided the Internet message boards while competing on the reality show, but her fellow contestants hadn抰 hesitated to pass on the gist. She didn抰 measure up to the name. And tonight, she抎 not only shown Jasper her insecurities, she抎 somehow managed to point his out, with barely a conscious effort.
Don抰 look now, but here comes Rita, the keeper of mediocrity and shroud of doom. Avoid eye contact.
Might as well start hoarding, because a man wasn抰 in the cards. Hell, she didn抰 even have friends, unless you counted the kitchen staff she no longer worked with. At least they hung out after work and threw back a tequila shot or two. How had she repaid them? By burning down their place of work.
Really, everyone should just keep their distance.
揅ome on, Rita,?Peggy called, her voice carrying in the still evening. 揑t couldn抰 have been all that bad.?
Rita snorted. 揑 think my definition of bad is worse than yours.?
揥ell.?A beat passed. 揑抳e never dated a hamster eater, but I抳e had my fair share of bad dates. Horrible dates. Mom抯 basement dates.?