Full Contact (Worth the Fight #2) (18 page)

Cain smiled and made his way to the grill, Travis following. Jessica loosened her grip on Slade and made as if to go get some food, but Slade grabbed her arm. “Lady, you’re the cutest fucking walking disaster I’ve ever met. Fucking adorable.” He shook his head and let her go.

Once they were all seated, Slade spoke up. “So if you’re not pregnant, then what’s the big news?”

“Oh. Well, we bought the building across the street from the gym. I’m opening a medical practice.”

“Sweet!” Travis cheered.

Cain smiled at both Jack and Chrissy.

“That’s great, guys. I’m so happy for you,” Jessica said.

“Cool. So when my guys get concussed, I can just drag ’em across the street,” Slade said.

Chrissy laughed. “Yeah. I’m going to make millions off your stupidectomies!”

“Stupid
what
?” Travis asked.

“It’s what I call it when someone comes to see me to fix them up from doing something stupid, usually repeatedly.”

“Like fighting,” Jessica said, knowing how Chrissy disliked the sport that her fiancé and brother were part of.

“Like fighting,” Chrissy confirmed.

“Seriously, though, I’m really happy you took such a big step. That means you’re really staying in Tarpon Springs,” Slade said.

“I already told you that.”

“Yeah, I know, but—”

“But you didn’t believe me,” Chrissy said. She went around to Slade and wrapped her arms around her brother. “I’m not leaving again, Slay. My running days are over.”

Slade pressed his hands over hers and whispered, “I’m real glad, Chris. Real glad.”

“Hey, Cain. Whatever happened to Violet?” Chrissy asked when she sat back down.

Cain shrugged.

“Words, please. You did that caveman thing with her, and I haven’t seen her since. I hope you don’t have her stashed in your cave. I need a nurse when I open the practice and she was sweet. I wonder if she has a job already.”

“Passed out. Took her to J’s.”

“Does the extra
L
take that much effort, man? JL.” Travis overenunciated the
L
.

Cain said nothing.

“So, that’s it?” Jessica asked Cain suspiciously.

“Why would there be more?” Cain asked.

“Don’t know. Got the feeling that there was something else,” Jessica said, and Chrissy agreed.

“No.” And that was the last word Cain said for the rest of the evening.

After dinner, drinks, and some chatting, Cain and Travis took off. Jessica stayed behind to help Chrissy clean up in the kitchen, while Jack and Slade stayed outside drinking.

“I’m real happy for you, Chris,” Jessica said. “Your dreams are coming true.”

“I know. I’m so excited.”

“Have you started planning the wedding?”

Chrissy let out a groan. “No. That’s horrible, right? I should be more excited. It’s just that I am so bad at all that planning stuff. We want something small. Just friends. I know we haven’t talked about it, but Slade told me about you leaving. I hope you’ll come back for the wedding?”

Jessica looked down at the plate she was rinsing. She hated the entire situation. She should be staying in Tarpon Springs helping her friend with the wedding plans; instead she was being bullied out of town, forced away from people who had come to mean the world to her. And even though Chrissy was her closest friend in Tarpon Springs besides Slade, Jessica hadn’t even had the courage to tell Chrissy she was leaving; she’d had to hear it from Slade.
Some friend I am,
Jessica thought disconsolately.

“Jess?”

Jessica looked up, her eyes misty. “Yes, of course I’ll be here for the wedding.” It came out sounding flustered, but that’s because she was.

“Jessica, you okay?” Chrissy stopped putting away the silverware and fixed her eyes on Jessica, who was drying plates.

“Yes. I’m just sad, I guess. I’ve been sad about leaving Slade, but it just hit me right now that I’m not only leaving Slade.”

“No, you’re not. We’ll all miss you, Jessica. Me, Jack, the guys, Patsy, all of us. I’ve kept my mouth shut because it’s none of my business, but…I know you came to town because of Dennis, but you’ve been here long enough for this to have become your home, honey. You shouldn’t leave it because of any man. Not Dennis and not Slade. I love my brother, but if you and him didn’t work out—though I still think you guys should figure it out, because you’re great together—you shouldn’t feel that the alternative is to run back to Charlotte.”

Jessica shook her head. Worse than any lecture was the disappointment from Chrissy. “I’m sorry. I wish I could stay. I just…I can’t.”

They were interrupted by the two men walking into the kitchen.

“I’m gonna head out. Thanks for dinner, guys,” Slade said, giving his sister a kiss on the cheek.

“Guess I’m going to go too,” Jessica said. She hugged Chrissy and then waved to Jack. “Thanks, you two.”

Outside the house, Slade walked Jessica to her car. “You want to come over for a drink?” He gestured toward his house.

Jessica let out a deep breath. Yes, she did. She wanted to come over for a drink and never leave. She wanted Slade so much, but she still felt the phantom sting from Dennis’s fingers around her throat as he warned her against further contact with Slade. As it was, she’d been spending too much time with Slade, but she hoped that since she wasn’t ever alone with him, Dennis wouldn’t react.

“Don’t worry about it. Forget I asked,” Slade said before Jessica had a chance to respond. As if he could read her mind, he touched her neck gently. Then he skimmed his finger up her to jaw, finally placing his palm against her cheek. “You seem so tormented. I haven’t seen you this way before. Even when you were dating Dennis you didn’t seem this sad. I just want you to be happy, Jessica. I think I can be the person to make you happy. I want to be that person. But I don’t know what else to do.” He leaned in and placed a feather-like kiss on her lips before letting her go and walking away.

She wanted to scream,
Don’t give up on us.
But all she could do was watch him leave.

It was Jessica’s last day at the Pier, and a frequent patron of the bar, Melinda DeBoit, who had been relentless about wanting to set Jessica up with her brother, Miles, had shown up with him that day to introduce him to Jess. But Jess had heard too many rumors about how creepy Miles was and how he’d hit on anything with a vagina. Besides, it had been two days since she’d last seen Slade and already she missed him fiercely. Melinda showing up with Miles in tow was just the icing on her crappy mood.

Miles seemed about ten years older than Jessica. He was wearing Dockers and a lime green polo shirt that looked as slimy as he did. He sat at the bar next to his sister and ordered a Sex on the Beach, winking at her. She rolled her eyes, but the bar was too empty to avoid the man and his sister. She had no choice but to politely make small talk. In the span of ten minutes, Jessica learned that he was divorced because his ex-wife was a money-grubbing bitch, he was a doctor (which she later realized meant he was a chiropractor), he dated a lot, and he thought she had great legs that would look better wrapped around him. Yes, all of that in ten minutes in front of his sister. Gross!

As luck would have it, just then a man sitting at the other end of the bar cleared his throat and addressed Jessica. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m passing through town and I was wondering if you could help me figure out directions to here.” He held out a map.

“Certainly.” Jessica smiled and excused herself. Before she could turn away, though, Miles spoke. “I have a hot date. Guess I better move out. If you want to see me again, I left my card there for you on top of the monster tip.” He winked.

“Thanks for that,” she said to the other man after Miles and Melinda had left.

The man smiled. “You looked like you were about to slap him.”

“More like throw up,” Jessica said wryly. “What can I get you? Drink’s on me.”

“How ’bout a beer?”

“Sure thing. I’m Jessica Cross, by the way.” She reached forward to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jessica Cross. I’m Roger Stevens.” They shook hands and she went to get him a beer. For the next hour, in between customers, Jessica chatted with Roger, who was passing through town on his way to visit his family in Jacksonville. After his third beer, and before the bar was about to close, he said, “I think you owe me a date. I mean, I did save you from Miles.”

She smiled but shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think so. I’m actually leaving town in a few days.”

“Well, I’m leaving tomorrow. Seems perfect. How ’bout dinner tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on. You gotta eat, don’t ya? It’ll be fun. You look like you could use some fun. Don’t make me eat alone.”

She did. She needed fun. She hadn’t been sleeping or eating well. The sadness pressing against her heart was making it hard to breathe. “Okay. I guess one meal won’t hurt. I owe you that much.” She gave him her number before he left. He was nice, charming, and handsome, and the prospect of seeing him later that evening cheered her up a little.

Back at her house, though, she once again found herself looking at her own reflection and dreading yet another first date.

There was a knock on her door, and she gave herself one final check in the mirror. She wore a white pencil skirt, a very flattering strapless blue top that clung to her body, and silver-heeled platform sandals that wrapped around her ankles. She hustled to the front door, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
Here goes nothing.

“Hi, Roge—” She stopped dead in her track. “Slade? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” He walked right in. No waiting for a welcome.

“Um, actually…”

“You look great. I mean, really great.” He stood so close to her, she could smell his sexy, musky scent. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were going on a date,
friend
.” He snickered.

The ringing of the doorbell saved her from responding. Slade stepped back, startled.

Oh. My. God. Awkward!

“If there’s a guy on the other side of that door, so help me God, Jess. I’m going to be royally pissed.”

Jessica hesitated for a moment, at a loss for words. Why was she on a date when all she really wanted was to be with Slade? Oh, yeah…because being with Slade was bad for Slade. Why didn’t he understand? The man should be able to read her mind, damn it! “I—um—”

The doorbell rang again.

Slade was in his stance again, arms crossed over his broad chest, legs shoulder-width apart. This time his features conveyed irritation, as if the man on the other side of the door was a bug he couldn’t scrape off his shoe.

Jessica walked to the door and opened it just enough so that she could see Roger but not enough that Roger could see inside. Behind her she heard Slade say something under his breath about not bothering to ask who it was before opening the door.

“Jessica. Wow. You look lovely.”

“Who the fuck says ‘lovely’? What a loser,” Slade muttered from behind the door. She prayed Roger didn’t hear.

“Thank you. You look nice too. Give me a sec, please. I’ll be right out. Meet you at the car.” Roger seemed confused, as if he’d been expecting her to invite him in while she got ready, but she ignored it to deal with the crazy, annoyed man standing behind her. She closed the door and spun around.

“What the hell, Slade?” she whispered.

“ ‘Lovely’?” He walked over and plopped himself on the couch. “You’re going out with a douche who says ‘lovely’? Let me guess, he’s another investment banker or some other lame-ass shit like that.”

“If you must know, he’s an art dealer.”

“Art dealer? Oh, so a pretentious douche, then.”

“Stop that. Anyway, it’s not even a date. It’s just dinner.”

“That’s the definition of dating—getting dressed up and going to dinner with someone you don’t really know that well yet. So you’re obviously dating now, since this is the second fucking time I’ve seen you out. Hell, I might as well throw my hat in the ring,” he said in a cocky tone.

“I don’t want your hat.”
Damn it, I so want his hat!

Slade stood and stalked toward her. “Oh, baby. Trust me. You so want my hat.”
Wait, did he just read my mind?

He ran a finger down her collarbone to the swells of her breast. She cleared her throat and prayed her cheeks weren’t reddening. She needed to get things under control ASAP!

“Everyone’s had your hat, Slade. I don’t want to be one in a long line of sluts who wear your hat.”

He pulled his hand away, his face aflame and his jaw set. “Fuck you, Jessica. I’m sick of begging. If that’s what you think of me, you don’t know me. Go out and enjoy your date with Mr. Lovely and don’t come crawling back to me when you’re bored out of your fucking skull.”

“Oh, please! Like you’re soooo entertaining.”

“You…you…” He took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words. Finally he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the breakfast bar a few feet from the front door.

“Let go of me. I have a date. I have to go.”

Slade didn’t say anything. He crouched down, reached for the hem of her skirt, and slid it up, caressing the outside of her thighs on the way. Her breath caught.

“Omigod! Slade, what are you doing?”

He grabbed her by her ass and lifted her on top of the cold marble countertop.

“Entertaining you,” he growled angrily.

The cold marble felt good against her scorching skin. Her mouth was agape and her lips were glistening. He reached for her knees and forced them open. She wanted to fight back and snap her thighs shut like a vise, but for some reason her damn traitorous thighs even spread a little wider on their own volition. Her heart pounded as he bent down and kissed the inside of her right leg all the way down to her stiletto-clad foot. Then he repeated the same slow and torturous assault on her left leg. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

Then he snapped her thighs shut, gripped her ankles in one hand, and lifted her legs straight up. To stop from falling back (and because her traitorous hands seemed to want to touch him), she instinctively grabbed on to his shirt. Her body and her brain were in no way on the same page. Her head wanted to kick and scream and tell him to get the hell out, but her body—every single damn cell in her body—wanted more touching.

With his free hand, he extricated his shirt from her grip, and before she knew it, she was flat on her back on the marble countertop, her legs closed tight and straight up in the air, her skirt up to her hips and her panty-covered ass exposed to him.

“Slade,” she pleaded, “Roger is wait—”

He bent down and slid a finger under the fabric of her lacy panty, pulling it aside.

“Slade!” she whispered urgently. Her body arched off the counter when she felt the featherlight touch against her skin. His hand still held her ankles together, up in the air. Her sex was now completely exposed.

“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is tell me to stop. But before you reject me again, I’m going to show you what you’re missing—how
entertaining
I can be—because it seems you forgot. You have a date, so I’ll make this quick.” A split second later his mouth was on her, laving from the top of her slit all the way down until his tongue was inside her.

His saliva dripped down her ass onto the countertop. Her arms dropped to her side and she held on to the edge of the countertop. She was helpless to fight his firm grip. And, really, who was she kidding? She wasn’t going to fight him even if she could.

His tongue retracted for a brief moment, but it was quickly replaced by a finger. “I’ve missed your taste. You’re delicious.” He ran one finger up and down her pussy as he kissed the back of each thigh.

There was a knock on the door, and her grip on the edge of the countertop tightened. Had he not been holding her legs up as tight as he was, she would’ve rolled right off and to the floor.

“Um…Roger…um…be right out. One second!”

“You okay?” Roger asked from the other side of the door.

“Uh…yeah. Fine. Just—” Slade brought his mouth back over her clit and began to suck hard, over and over, as he slid first one and then a second finger inside. “Omigod!” she yelped.

“Jessica?” Roger asked.

“Ah!” she yelled. “I—uh…Ah! Oh my God!”

“Jessica?” Roger repeated.

“Ah! I tore my stockings. Fucking stockings! Fuuuccking stooocckings!” she screamed as her climax began to build. “Just wait in the car. Be right out.”

Slade continued to suck and lick while his fingers worked their way in and out of her right there on top of her kitchen counter with another man waiting in the car for her, until she thought she couldn’t take it a second longer. At that very second Slade drew back, leaving her right on the precipice of what she knew would’ve been the best orgasm of her life.

Slowly Slade bent her legs and released them onto the counter, where she lay panting with her clothes in disarray. He leaned over her. “I think that’s as far as friends go.” He licked his fingers. “Have a good date, lady.” Then he walked out the front door.

There was a knock at her door again. She stumbled off the counter, almost twisting her ankle as she slid her skirt down and ran her fingers through her hair. She opened the door feeling frazzled. “Are you okay?” her date asked.

“Sorry, Roger. I was just—”

“I know. Your brother told me.”

“My brother?”

“Yeah. The guy who just walked out of here. Said you weren’t feeling well. Said it was your time of the month.”

She was mortified. “He what?”
Son of a bitch!

“I…uh…it’s cool. I get it. I have a sister. He said to be wary of your bad mood.” Roger chuckled. “I’ve been properly warned. Come on, let’s go.”

Jessica groaned, grabbed her clutch, locked the door, and followed Roger to his BMW sedan. She clenched her thighs together a few times, hoping the friction would alleviate some of the ache. Damn Slade!

Roger drove thirty minutes outside of town to a restaurant called the Steak Place. She’d been to it a few times with Dennis when he’d had to go to his uncle’s fund-raisers or some other family event. It was one of the more elegant restaurants in the area.

Roger was a perfect gentleman. He held the door open for her and led her to a nice table by a window overlooking the ocean. When the waiter came, he ordered for them. “I hope it’s okay. I’ve been told I have great taste.”

“Yes. Of course. I’m sure I’ll love whatever you ordered.” At least she hoped so; she had been too distracted to listen to Roger’s order.

He smiled cockily. “Trust me. I have a sixth sense when it comes to women. And after the time I’ve spent with you at the bar, I think I’ve got you pegged.”

Well, no one had ever ordered for her before. This was nice. A man who took charge, but not aggressively, not on a damn countertop while another man waited outside, not a man who’d bring her right to the cusp and then leave. She had already experienced
that
kind of take-charge attitude and she wasn’t interested. This was a nice and refined kind of take-charge.

When the appetizers arrived, Roger ate fried calamari glistening with oil while she dove into her watercress salad (dressing on the side), wondering if her own fried calamari would be arriving soon. Pretty soon she realized that the salad was her only appetizer, though her mouth watered for those fried calamari. She swallowed a few more green leaves and took a sip of her way-too-sweet Cosmopolitan. Why did men always assume a woman wanted a Cosmopolitan?
Thank you,
Sex and the City.

“Good?” Roger asked as he took a sip of his red wine.

She smiled and nodded.

“So, how are you feeling? Any cramps?”

The Cosmo went down the wrong way, and she coughed and her eyes watered. Roger looked around, embarrassed, before standing up and walking behind her to pat her back.

“You okay?” he whispered.

She nodded, grabbed a cloth napkin, and wiped her eyes. “Sorry ’bout that. Yeah, I’m okay. You just caught me off guard with that question.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed about. Menstruation is a normal thing. All women experience it.”