She抎 leave the encounter with no doubt of his experience, because, hell, Jasper knew every button to press, when to change rhythm, when to be forceful or pull back. Knew it all. But Rita wouldn抰 look at him the same way afterward. She抎 see the local tramp, like everyone else.
She抎 leave. And he抎 have failed in his one attempt to be more to someone.
Jasper tore his mouth free, releasing a gruff exhale into her neck. 揧ou have me ready to bust in my jeans, beautiful. I was smoother than this in high school.?
揟hat抯 a scary thought,?she breathed out in a rush, her fists still curling in his shirt. 揥as that the other half of your apology for last night? B-because I have to say, it was pretty effective.?
揂t the risk of sounding arrogant, Rita, I haven抰 even moved my hips yet. You抳e barely gotten a preview of how thoroughly I can卆pologize.?
揇on抰 leave me in suspense,?she whispered, those golden-brown eyes going as big as salad plates.
Don抰 do it. You抣l have a hard-on for a decade. 揑f you agree to go out with me tonight, I抣l rub that wet, aching seam of yours with my own ache.?
Rita抯 head fell back on a whimper. 揊ine. Yes.?
Victory moved through his veins like liquid gold. Drugging him, relieving him, propelling him. With an arm wrapped low around Rita抯 hips, he dragged her forward to the edge of the bike seat. Teeth gritted against her soft neck, he imagined her naked in his king-sized bed, imagined that first thrust into her tight body after about an hour of foreplay, give or take. 揑 really am sorry卆bout last night,?he lifted his head and husked, mouth a mere centimeter away from hers. Lord, don抰 kiss her while you dry hump her. You抣l rip her jeans off right here in this parking lot. Already groaning, Jasper rammed himself into the notch of her legs, pinning her ass against the bike, agonized by the outline of her pussy where it branded the fly of his jeans. 揑抦 sorry. You want the other half of my apology??Another five rough, pounding pumps that made the bike creak and teeter beneath Rita. Creak, creak, creak. 揑抦 sorry.?
When her head lolled to one side, his mouth latched on to the sensitive flesh of her neck and sucked. Damn right I抣l leave a mark. Any way I can.
揂gain,?she moaned. 揓ust a little more. I抦 so棓
揝top. Don抰 tell me.?Jasper ground his forehead against her shoulder, in utter disbelief that he wasn抰 going to finish her. This woman who seemed to have his cock on a leash.
Risky move, man. You think you抮e good enough to earn the reward?
揑 don抰 know,?Jasper said out loud, taking a last inhale of her scent before stepping away, turning his back to calm himself. Which wouldn抰 happen if he kept looking at her.
揧ou don抰 know what??Rita asked, sounding dazed.
When he heard her boots find the ground, he faced her. 揘othing, beautiful.?His throat was raw. 揑抦 picking you up at seven, all right??
揙kay. I抣l wait here.?
They both laughed, but the notes held more pain than humor. 揋o ahead inside. I need to watch the door close behind you for my peace of mind.?
Rita blinked at him for a few beats before ducking her head. Why did his concern seem to surprise her? She shuffled forward a few paces, then stopped, sending him a self-conscious look over her shoulder. 揑 accept your apology.?
揘ow that抯 something.?
She stared out over the parking lot. 揑 don抰 like sushi so much.?
His chest felt light. 揑talian, then.?When she nodded and walked toward the front entrance, leaving him behind, words just kind of left his mouth without warning. 揜ita, how do you feel about going to dinner right now??
She kept walking, but her shoulders were shaking. 揝ee you at seven.?
Chapter Fifteen
Rita was still staring at the closed motel room door when the commotion started outside. Commotion might have been too strong a word, but since she抎 been sitting in silence for an unknown quantity of time, trying to piece together how some desert-dwelling player had wedged himself underneath her skin in a matter of twenty-four hours, any disturbance in the force qualified as a commotion.
Really, she should call off the date. And if her pride allowed her to go back on an agreement梕ven though it had been made in the heat of the moment梥he might have done just that. What was stopping her from canceling? Why was she wasting her time? Funny enough, she抎 asked herself the same questions before the sparse dates she抎 been on in San Diego. Those men would never mean anything to her, or vice versa. They were looking for a Peggy. Or some other cool girl who cheered for a specific sports team and got invited to poker night. Jasper couldn抰 be so much different from those men she抎 so easily disregarded, could he?
So why did calling off the date with Jasper feel like sacrilege?
You won抰 want anything to do with me afterward. I抣l have served my purpose. She could still hear the conviction in his voice, the pain. And not deconstructing the recipe that was Jasper and finding the incorrectly added ingredient went against a grain she hadn抰 been aware of. Although, unlike the act of putting together a recipe, Jasper didn抰 make her feel anxious. Like she was on the cusp of failing. Just the opposite, actually. Around him, she couldn抰 seem to escape the optimism. Which made Rita wonder if trying to downplay the good had always been her default.
A car door slammed outside, followed by a squeal. Rita would have recognized that squeal as Peggy抯 in a stadium full of squealers, so she rose and padded to the window to investigate. On the other side of the foggy glass, Peggy stood with her arms around a slight girl. Or woman? It was hard to tell because the hug recipient was so short. She only reached Peggy抯 chin, but when the two broke apart and Rita got a good look at the new arrival抯 face, her identity was somehow obvious.
Sage Alexander.
Of course. She抎 been so bamboozled by a certain honky-tonk owner she抎 forgotten the plan she抎 hatched with Peggy last night to fly Sage to Hurley. After agreeing that Belmont抯 behavior was growing increasingly worrisome, Peggy had called her best friend and wedding planner, explaining the situation without too many details. She knew what I was saying without my having to spell it out, Peggy had said after hanging up the phone. It was still a mystery at this point what kind of relationship Sage had with Belmont, but Peggy seemed confident that the wedding planner抯 arrival would be good for him.
Rita would have stayed inside the room watching the scene unfold through the glass if Peggy hadn抰 spotted her, waving Rita outside. Damn. She shoved her feet into the black boots she抎 discarded by the door and trudged outside, hands in pockets, hovering to the side while the two women recapped every minuscule task they抎 performed since the last time they抎 spoken. Although, to be fair, the yammering was more on Peggy抯 end while Sage listened with an indulgent smile, her fondness for Peggy clear.
揂nyway.?Peggy heaved a breath before reaching out and curling a hand around Rita抯 bicep, pulling her forward. 揑 can抰 believe you抳e never met my sister. Sage, this is Rita. Rita, Sage.?
Sage extended a professional hand. 揘ice to meet you, Rita. We didn抰 quite reach the one rehearsal dinner I managed to get scheduled.?
揂h, yes. My first engagement.?Peggy tilted her head as if searching for flavors in a fine wine. 揟hat was a close call.?
Rita shook Sage抯 hand. 揌i,?she said, pretending she didn抰 feel the tremor in the other woman抯 hand. 揟hanks for coming.?
揑 wanted to come.?Sage picked up her suitcase and put it back down. Adjusted her round, clear-framed glasses. Her nerves were obvious, but she was clearly trying to put on a friendly face. Peggy launched into a description of Hurley抯 charms, listing dinner and entertainment options like the concierge of a five-star hotel and giving Rita the chance to study Sage. She appeared to be in her midtwenties, although with the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks, she could have passed for a college freshman, if necessary. Her light blue paisley dress was conservative梐nd that was putting it mildly. The neckline covered everything below her collarbone, the hem extending well past her knees, like some kind of throwback to the fifties. When Rita heard the words wedding planner, her mind conjured up a woman with sharp cheekbones and high heels that could double as a weapon. Sage couldn抰 be a stiletto assassin on her worst day, if Rita was judging her correctly.