So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(187)
She salutes. “I agree. But he’s a fucking hot pain in the ass. One that wants your coochie hella bad.”
Well, he can’t have it anymore. “Too bad. I have to make Dave fall for me, or it’s bye-bye book sales.”
“Oh, give it up to Jackass on the side. Dave won’t know. Not like you’re planning to actually marry the guy. Dave isn’t exactly your type.”
I pull my head back. “My type? What type? I haven’t been out with anyone in ages until Dave.”
“Except Jackson Tremaine. You guys have gotten cozy lately. Haven’t you?”
“We’re—only friends. And he’s probably only being nice to keep an eye on the bet. His show’s ratings are on the line too.”
“No. A guy like Jack has staff. Staff are the people who keep an eye on things. The only thing Tremaine has his eye on, besides your tits and ass, is you. That boy’s besotted.”
I have to bite my lips to hide a smile that shouldn’t even exist. “I’ve only known him a few weeks, Shay. That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Infatuation doesn’t make sense, friend. It just is. Accept it. Embrace it. Fuck the shit out of him, and then move on to the next. You’ll both leave the relationship with a smile if you end it early.”
Infatuation. Yeah. That’s a good word. Most likely the closest word in Shay’s vocabulary to love. But that’s not what drives Jack. For him, it’s plain old lust.
The bell rings, sending Dickey Bird into a fit.
Shay hops up and snatches her purse from the hook on the wall. “Three guesses who that is.”
The door opens. There’s murmuring. The door closes.
“Hey, Peaches, how was the date?”
Dickey Bird hangs upside down from the top of his cage and flaps his wings. “Jackass. Jackass. Pretty bird, kick ass.”
Jackson shakes his head. “Well, at least he’s not coming, Ronnie, right now!”
I push to my feet. “The date was…well, all I can say is indoor skydiving is not my idea of a great time. Just saying. I swear my cheeks flew up around my temples. They waved in the wind, like the underside of my Grandma’s arms when she gets excited and throws her hands up to yell BINGO!”
His eyes sparkle. “You crack me up. I love the way you describe things.”
“I’m a writer—that’s what I do. I describe things to people. Those helmet straps cut into the skin.”
Jack chucks me under my chin, pushing up. He inspects it. “Nah. No marks.”
In the kitchen, I pull out some thawed chicken breasts and other things I need to make dinner. “Are you staying to eat?”
He checks his watch. “Whatcha cooking?”
I shake my head. “You’re as bad as a teenager wanting to know if what your friend’s mom is cooking is better than what your mom is serving.”
“No. When I was a teenager, I ate at both houses. But now, I have to watch what I eat.” He runs his hands over his torso. “This physique requires maintenance.”
I stand at the counter, slicing the breasts to half thickness. “Chicken Piccata. I’ll make yours with no breading. Heck, I probably should make both of ours with no breading.”
Jack steps in behind me, his hands running over my hips and around my waist. “No, you shouldn’t. You need to maintain your physique as well. Exactly the way it is.”
That never-ending flame he stokes in me flares to life. I need a fire suppression system when he’s around. I try to ignore how his words massage my heart. He says things like that, and I forget that we aren’t really dating.
We aren’t really anything. Fuck buddies, maybe. Since the masquerade ball, he’s been over every day. Without fail. We have sex. We talk. Sometimes we fuck a second time—or a third. Once, a fourth—man, was that ever a day. But with the exception of the gala, no dates.
I push him out of my way as I make dinner. Somehow, he works his way back in.
“Fine. If you won’t move, then slice this lemon for me. Thin, please.”
He takes the lemon and makes quick work of it.
I bump him with my hip. “Showing off your prowess with a kitchen knife?”
“Contrary to widely spread rumors, I do have talents in other places besides what I do when I’m between ladies’ thighs. What else?”
“I need the capers. Yes, you certainly have expertise between a woman’s legs.”
Just the thought of all the things he’s done to my pussy over the last few days brings the warm liquid of anticipation to my entrance.
We dine in the living room, the same place I sucked his cock while getting myself off. Every time I raise my eyes, they meet his. As if he’s been staring at me the whole time.