Her taste was different, though. Before, she’d tasted spicy and exotic, but now her mouth was chocolaty and sweet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest.
“Get a room!”
Jake glanced behind him to see two men walking by and laughing. He turned back to Maria and leaned his forehead on hers. “It is good advice. Let’s go.”
“Okay.” She put her palm on his cheek and gave him a quick kiss. “And don’t start talking yourself out of what’s going to happen when we get there.”
She shouldn’t have said that. It was as effective as jumping naked into the North Atlantic. There were a hundred good reasons for not sleeping together that he could spout off the top of his head without even trying.
“Maria—”
“Shut up, Jake. I mean it.” She turned and yanked on the door handle. “Unlock the stupid door.”
He reached into his pocket and clicked the remote. At the sound of the locks popping up, she slapped his hand away and opened the door herself, shutting it in his face once she was seated.
As he stared through the window at her, he debated his options. One: he could take her home and do what they both wanted. Two: he could take her home and then lock himself in his room, which neither of them wanted him to do. Three: he could call the boss and ask him to send Turner to guard her. Four: he could just shoot himself right now because he was going with number one.
Jake circled the car, slid into the driver’s seat, and swiveled his body toward her. When she opened her mouth to speak, he crushed his mouth over hers. Whatever she wanted to say he didn’t want to hear. No more cold-water words.
“Be quiet.”
She grinned. “Okay.”
Jake kissed her again, gently this time. “Let’s go home.”
Her warm smile banished his doubts about the direction they were headed. He wasn’t sure he could let her go once he’d claimed her, and that should’ve concerned him. The thought of another man coming along and touching her when this thing between them cooled didn’t settle well. Another first.
She would graduate in a week and be back in Pensacola. They could date—strangely enough, something he’d not done a lot of—and see how things went. Most of his hookups had been initiated at local watering holes, and he rarely saw the same woman more than three or four times. More than that and they started getting ideas.
Other than meeting for drinks and then falling into bed, he’d not put much effort into entertaining them. He wanted more with Maria than just falling into the sack a few times. There were movies he’d like to take her to, concerts, weekends away—maybe New Orleans. If he took her to Apalachicola, could he convince her to try oysters on the half shell? There was nothing on this earth better than chilled oysters with an ice-cold beer.
It would be an interesting challenge to work on her eating habits, get her turned on to eating healthy, or at least healthier. He didn’t foresee her giving up all her junk food. Maybe he would try eating the things she liked once in a while. Not often, but . . .
Christ. He was already planning their life and they hadn’t even spent their first night together. Where were all these thoughts coming from, anyway? It was entirely possible they’d spend one night together and that would be it. His lust for her would be sated and her fascination with him would fade.
He glanced at her to see she was watching him, and he slipped his hand into hers, bringing her fingers to his mouth and kissing them. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
Maria thought it best not to tell him she was nervous. Were they really going to do this? What if she didn’t please him? He was used to women with experience, and other than the few times she’d slept with her ex-boyfriend, she had none. With Jonathan, it hadn’t been particularly enjoyable. Once, she’d straddled him in an attempt to seduce him and he’d gotten angry, wanting to know where she’d learned her tricks.
It had been entirely the wrong thing to say. Lovey Dovey hadn’t always been private with the men she brought home, and Maria knew all kinds of tricks, but from observation only. She’d never told Jonathan about her mother, instinctively knowing he would look at her differently. When he’d asked about her parents, she had told him they died too young for her to remember them.
So, she’d had no explanation for her knowledge of sexual acts and only answered that she had read about it somewhere, which caused him to question her taste in books. Since that would include her sister-in-law’s hot romance novels—and there was no one on earth who could make her stop reading Dani’s books—it had been the end of Jonathan.