Ask For It (22 page)

She would have loved Trevor Wyatt. He had no doubt about that. Right now, the big man three seats down had his head bent toward JJ, listening to something she was saying. He looked at her like she was the sun and the moon and the stars.

Ron knew that look. Knew that feeling…missed that feeling.

“Thank you again for having us,” Patricia was saying. He glanced to his right and found her smiling at him.

She was really lovely when she smiled.

“Our pleasure.”

“I can’t believe you cooked two turkeys.”

“I’m officially a fan of deep fried turkey,” Marcus inserted.

Ron chuckled. “Glad to hear it. I doubt we’ll have much left by tomorrow. Sometimes I think my boys never stopped growing.”

Patricia made a sound of agreement as she reached for her water glass. “They sure do eat like they’re going through a growth spurt don’t they?”

“Yes, ma’am…”

The boys were making plans to go paint balling the next day. As usual, JJ fit right in. She might wear dresses and high heels these days but since the moment she’d moved into his home almost twenty five years ago, she’d been holding her own with three rowdy brothers.

“Since the kids are planning their own outing tomorrow, maybe you’d let me show you the high spots of Atlanta,” Ron said to Patricia.

“What high spots?” Greg inserted but quickly turned back to the conversation at the end of the table.

“I’d love that.”

“Excellent.”

“That was so good I could have another round of everything,” Marcus said, his hand on his belly.

Ron grinned. That was one of the highest compliments in his book.

“Better hold off, son. JJ’s been cooking pies all week.”

“You’ll love JJ’s pie,” Ronny said from the other end of the table. “What kind did you make this year, sis?”

JJ wiped her mouth and held up a hand. “Pumpkin.” She extended one finger as she counted off. “Pecan. Sweet potato. Apple.”

“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Kyle said, reminding Ron of Greg. Such youthful exuberance.

“You and me both,” Trevor added, but he was looking at JJ.

Ron didn’t miss the way his daughter swayed a little toward her boyfriend.

“We usually eat it in the living room, if that’s okay,” JJ said. “I’ve got vanilla ice cream and whipped cream for anyone who wants it.”

There was a bevy of discussion of flavor combinations.

“Sounds wonderful dear,” Patricia said. “Boys, clean up.”

Ron watched, amazement bubbling through him, as all three Wyatt men jumped up to clear the dishes. Trevor pecked JJ on the lips as he scooped up her plate. Marcus gathered Greg’s and Patricia’s before reaching for Ron’s.

Patricia chuckled. “They’ve been doing their own laundry since they were little too,” she said, obviously reading his mind.

“Obviously Leigh Ann and I coddled ours too much.” He loved his late wife, but she had been a bit of a coddler.

Not to be out done, his sons gathered up everything that was left and headed for the kitchen.

“Pumpkin pie with whipped cream, dad?” JJ asked, standing.

“You know me too well, honey.”

“Mrs. Wyatt?”

“I think I’ll have the apple with the ice cream.”

“Coming right up.”

Ron was glad to see that Patricia ruled her family with an iron fist and didn’t let her boys get away with anything. It eased his worry about his only daughter dating such a popular man. Trevor seemed like a great guy, but since Leigh Ann’s death, he’d felt extra protective where Julia was concerned.

But after meeting the rest of the Wyatt clan, he realized she was in good hands. He added that to his list of many blessings.

JJ’s laughter carried through the house and someone turned the game back on. Ron pushed away from the table and then helped Patricia to the living room. Was it too soon to wonder when they’d be hearing wedding bells?

Whatever the case, it was good to see his daughter so happy.

Now if only he could get his three knuckle headed boys into good stable relationships. He was counting the days until he could bounce grandbabies on his knee. Yes, sir. Counting the days.

After her morning interview with a contractor for an article about flipping houses, submitting her latest piece to John and having lunch with Trevor at her parents’ house (yay for leftovers) the next day, JJ found herself on a paint ball course trying her hardest not to pass out from exhaustion. But sneaking through the woods, trying to move undetected had her adrenaline pumping. She crouched behind a small, rustic structure and tried to steady her breathing. How Trevor and the guys had talked her into this she didn’t know.

But him cooking breakfast for her on her little portable grill had surely helped.

As long as she lived, she’d never forget the startled look on his face the first time she’d put a bright turquoise paint ball in the center of his vest. The sinful mouth she’d kissed most of last night had dropped open in disbelief. But before he could return fire she’d run off.

That’d been ten minutes ago and she’d hit him twice since then. Her dad would be so proud.

She wasn’t sure where her teammates had ventured off too. And she didn’t much care. She’d only been half listening to the instructions about getting flags and taking them back to base. At the time she’d been more concerned with the gleam in Trevor’s eyes and the fact that the enormous paint ball course was several miles across.

Pressing her back against the aged wood shack, she held her breath for a few seconds to see if she could hear his approach. Nothing.

In the distance a
phbt-phbt-phbt
rang out. Then a curse and a laugh. But in her corner of the world, things were quiet. While the idea of shooting her lover with tiny balls of paint hadn’t been particularly appealing, JJ could appreciate the running and activity involved. And besting Trevor at his own game was growing on her.

Feeling bold she called out “it’s a good thing you know your way around a football field.”

His rich laughter rang through the woods. “I never should have given you a head start, sweetheart,” he called back.

Her lips twitched.

“Keep telling yourself that, big-boy.”

She was pretty sure he was coming up the left side of the building. Flanking right, she kept her finger on the trigger. If only her momma could see her now.

Sure, she’d been something of a tomboy after her mom had remarried. She’d had to be with three rough and tumble brothers. Her dad had taught her how to shoot right along with the boys. And while she’d been good at hitting stationary targets, skeet shooting reminded her too much of hunting ducks.

“I think you missed your calling,” Trevor said, from directly behind her. From the corner of her eye she saw his large frame filling a doorway.

Darn. She hadn’t thought to check inside the building. So much for beating him at his own game.

She let go of the gun and it dropped to the end of the strap around her neck. A shiver raced up her spine as she held her hands up and turned around.

“You got me,” she whispered.

He looked very pleased with himself. Behind the goggles, his blue eyes simmered with heat.

“The question is, what am I going to do with you?”

She pursed her lips and then gave her eyelashes a flutter for good measure. “That
is
the question.”

“I suppose I could take you captive.”

Another shiver raced over her shoulders. She was starting to think she should have worn more than a light-weight jacket and a long sleeved T-shirt. The vest, goggles, and helmet did little to keep her warm on a cool November day.

“And then what?”

His handsome mouth hitched up on one side and her heart fluttered. What would it be like to see that smile every day? Over breakfast one day and lunch the next? In the middle of the night or on holidays? Twenty years from now when his hair had turned a salt and pepper gray?

Trevor slipped his strap over his head and slowly lowered his gun to the ground. His gaze never left hers. “Then I'd have my way with you.” He jerked off the goggles and tossed them over his shoulder. The helmet followed.

A white hot spark flamed to life inside her and she swayed toward him. Toward the enemy.

“You don't play fair,” she whispered. Not that she minded in the least.

As far as she was concerned paint-ball created an adrenaline rush that was like no other aphrodisiac she knew of.

So slowly she thought she might get wrinkles first, he reached over and gently removed her goggles and helmet. Next went her gun. Oh he was good at this tension thing. Her insides were knotted, coiled, and ready all at the same time. Her breathing was deep and slow. Her breasts heavy and aching for his touch.

“I never claimed to.”

To what? Oh. Play fair.

He cocked his head to the left and swept his gaze over her in a long, thorough perusal.

When at last his gaze locked on her lips she was ready to come out of her skin. Never had she felt so naked before a man and certainly not when she was fully dressed. It was as if he could see every flaw, every sin, every desire.

“Turn around and show me what I've captured.”

She turned slowly to the right, the cheekiness of the game leaving her. This was seduction at its finest. She was sure of it. How he made her feel both beautiful and needy at the same time, well, he should teach a course. Women would be lined up around the block to sign-up their significant other.

“Beautiful.”

Leaves crunching beneath her feet, she finished the pirouette. She wasn't ready to let him have his way quite yet. And anything she could do to prolong the lusty look in his eyes was definitely a good thing. The siren inside her wanted to string this encounter along as far as it could go. Plus it’d be fun to see just how far she could push her captor.

“Now what?”

“Strip.”

“What?” Her voice rose an octave and she glanced behind her.

“Start with the vest.”

“If you think that I’m going—”

He cut her off with a hard kiss as he jerked her into his arms. Oh my. His hands cupped her ass and his tongue tangled with hers, not taking no for an answer. Taking a step back, he lifted her into his arms and stepped inside the building. Arms and legs wrapped around him, she held on tight, soaking in his energy. Lips fused with his, she hardly noticed him maneuvering them until her back hit the wall and the door slammed shut behind them.

He fumbled with something behind her and she heard a lock slip into place. “I really should tie you up,” he said between kisses to her shoulders and neck. “Tease you. Torture you a little.”

“What’s stopping you?” she asked. She hadn’t meant for it to sound like a challenge. But she welcomed a little teasing from this man. In the end, he always pleased her.

“I don’t have the patience or time right now.” He rotated his hips, driving his erection against her belly.

He didn’t waste another second. In a flurry of movement, he had her jeans unbuttoned and shoved to her ankles. Before she could kick off her hiking boots and step out of the denim trap around her ankles he scooped her up. Spinning, he put her down next to an old work bench.

“Turn around.”

She liked it when he sounded all growly. Needy. His hands moved to the button of his jeans and a second later he’d shoved them below his hips. He already had a condom out and tore the wrapper with his teeth.

“Don’t make me tell you again, captive.”

Giggling softly, she did his bidding. The earthiness of the shelter filled her nose. She’d never be able to go camping again without thinking of this. Of Trevor.

Paint-ball either, for that matter.

He pushed her shoulders down and she braced her hands against the table. She didn’t have much time to contemplate how grimy the surface was before his hands skimmed over her hips. She rocked back, ever eager for his touch.

“Easy, tiger.”

A thick finger parted her lower lips, dipping inside quickly, easily, before she felt the blunt head of his cock.

This was so naughty. A delicious shiver raced down her spine and she pressed back against him. He met her thrust and slid into her until she couldn’t take any more.

His groan said it all. It was as if he was made for her and it didn’t take him more than a minute to build a blinding orgasm inside her.

“Ready to come, my lovely captive?” he whispered.

“Very ready,” she replied, almost panting with need.

He reached around and circled her clit with the tip of his finger. That and a well-timed thrust was all it took to send her into the heavens. He came with a low grunty-growl, his arms tightening around her.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out as wave after wave of delicious pleasure swept through her. Her knees went all wiggly and she locked her elbows to stay upright.

“Holy hell, woman. What are you doing to me,” he said sometime later from where he’d dropped his forehead against her shoulder.

“No idea, captor. But you’re doing it to me too.” She wanted him to do it to her forever.

Cindy was never going to let her live this down, JJ mourned on the way back to her loft. First, she’d “walked in there and had sex with the guy.” And if her indiscretions in New York hadn’t been enough, she’d had sex (with the same guy, at least) in a semipublic place. With her brothers scouring the woods right outside! And his brothers too.

A shiver of embarrassment heated her skin. Did they know what the two of them had been doing in that shed? Marcus and Greg sat in the backseat of Trevor’s rented SUV, chatting amongst themselves. Congratulating each other on their win. Her brother was a traitor, she thought with a grin. And Trevor was going to be touting his win for weeks.

The rascal didn’t play fair and she’d be sure she pointed that out every time he told everyone about stealing her flag. He’d stolen it all right, just as soon as he’d given her an orgasm that made her toes curl just thinking about it.

Her cheeks heated again as she thought about what her girlfriends would say. Baby would drill her for details and Gretchen would be scandalized. JJ smiled at the thought. That orgasm had been worth it. She could swear she still felt residual tingles.