Full Contact (Worth the Fight #2) (19 page)

Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward and whispered, “I’m fine. No cramping.” She put on her best fake grin. “For Christ’s sake, I beg you not to say the word
menstruation
again.”

“I won’t. But you don’t have to be shy with me.”

Their entrées came before she had a chance to respond.

The waiter placed a beautifully roasted chicken breast with seasonal vegetables in front of her. It looked good. But, when she looked over to the wonderfully juicy porterhouse steak with truffled potatoes sitting in front of Roger, her mouth watered.

“I hope you like chicken, Jessie.”

She snapped her eyes up.
Jessie?
She hated that nickname. “Uh—yeah. Chicken. Yes. Yum.”

She ate her chicken quietly. The waiter came by and asked if they wanted another round of drinks, but Roger declined for both of them. Her brow furrowed. She desperately needed a drink—a real drink, not something frilly and fruity.

“Actually, I’ll take another one. Thank you,” Jessica said to the waiter.

Roger looked up from his plate. “Another one?”

“Yep.”

“But don’t you think you’re overdoing it? I mean, two Cosmopolitans? You weigh what? One forty, one forty-five? That’s too much alcohol. You’ll get drunk.”

One twenty-five, asshole!

“I think me and my one hundred and forty-five pounds—maybe even one fifty, since I’m having my period and might be bloated—will be fine with a second drink.”

“Suit yourself.” He took a bite of his steak. “I gotta say, this has been such a lovely first date. Don’t you think?”
Lovely.
She could hear Slade’s condescending snicker in her head. This was all Slade’s fault. He had ruined the date for her even before it started. She was horny, frustrated, and just overall bitchy—ironically, not all that different from when she did have her period.

Before she had a chance to say anything, Roger went on. “We have so much in common. I see I totally nailed it on the food.” He winked. “I do hope you don’t get sloppy with that second drink, though. That’s a complete turn-off.”

Sloppy? I’ll show you sloppy!
She wanted to throw the chicken at him and snatch his steak while asking for a stiff shot of bourbon. But her mother had taught her better than that.

So she just nodded politely and gave him the best fake smile she could muster, while biting the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something inappropriate—or stabbing him with her fork.

When it was time for dessert, he ordered one slice of Key lime pie, and that was the final straw. “I’m sorry, but I’d like to see the dessert menu,” she said to the waiter. Roger’s eyebrows rose.

“You don’t like Key lime pie?”

“I do. I love it. But I may love something else more.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, then you pick dessert. Let’s see if you can read me as well as I read you tonight.”

She snorted out a laugh. “How about you eat your pie and I’ll order…” She skimmed through the menu. “The chocolate lava cake.”

The waiter nodded, but Roger held up a hand.

“Wait. That sounds great. One chocolate lava cake, two spoons.”

“No,” Jessica said, an edge in her voice. The waiter hesitated, confused. “I want my own. One spoon.”

The waiter smiled and scurried away.

“Your own?” Roger asked, as if she’d just admitted to being a Martian. But then comprehension dawned on his face. “I suppose it’s the craving you get for chocolate around menstruation. I understand,” he said.

At the end of dinner, he paid the bill and led her back to his car. The last place she wanted to go was home, especially since it was Friday night and barely ten o’clock. She was all dressed up, hungry, irritated, and confused from the earlier incident with Slade. And she definitely didn’t want to invite Roger back to her place. Actually, the only thing she really wanted was to see Slade, pull him close, and wring his goddamn neck! After he finished what he’d started, that is.

“Oh, look.” She reached for her phone and pretended to look at her text messages. “My boss needs me to come in tonight. The other bartender is out sick.”

“Really? I thought we could go back to your place and watch a movie…or something.”

She didn’t want to “or something” with Roger. Especially after having almost
or something
ed with Slade. She was pretty certain she would be disappointed with Roger’s performance even if she did have an orgasm. Fucking hell—she was going to kill Slade. His non-orgasm was probably better than any orgasm she’d ever had or ever would have with Roger or anyone else.

“Sorry, Roger. Just drop me off. I have a change of clothes at my locker.”

“I can hang out while you work?”

“No. No. It’s a long shift. We close late. Sorry to cut the date short.”

“Okay.” He seemed disappointed as he drove her to the Pier.

When they arrived, he got out and hurried around to open her door. He extended his hand to help her out, and before she had a chance to make a quick exit, he moved closer. Luckily, she anticipated it and quickly turned her face so that his dry, rubbery lips met her cheek. She tried to pull away, but her back was to the car and he was in front of her. She raised her hands to his chest to try to push him away gently, but he didn’t take the hint. It was the world’s longest cheek kiss ever. Jessica squirmed inwardly—there was no possible way that this man could have felt anything but awkwardness from the kiss. But when he finally pulled away, there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Lust?
No freakin’ way.
“Can I call you tomorrow, Jessie?”

“Uh…yeah. Sure. Listen. I gotta run. Patsy and Jett’ll have my ass if I don’t get to work.”

“Call me.” He put his pinky finger and thumb out by his ear like a phone. Like a douche bag.

She didn’t even bother with a polite smile as she ran to the front door of the bar. As soon as it closed behind her, she leaned back against it, closing her eyes for a moment, catching her breath.

What the fuck is Jessica doing here?
Slade thought as he looked through the window of the bar and saw her get out of the car outside the Pier.

Since leaving her house, he had been pissed at himself. He had left her wet and without relief on her way to a date with another man. He could still taste her, for Christ’s sake. What the fuck had he been thinking? Stupidest idea ever! He’d come here to play pool with Travis and Jack to get his mind off Jessica, but he’d done nothing but think about her.

Now she was coming into the bar with that douche bag? Slade made an excuse to the guys and walked closer to the window to see. The guy opened the car door and helped her out. Then he leaned forward and his lips touched her—not her lips, but still, any part of her was off-limits. Slade’s fists clenched as Jessica’s hands went to the asshole’s shirt, just as she’d done to him earlier. Was she pulling the asshole closer to her? Slade held his breath.

The moment the asshole’s mouth disconnected from her cheek, Jessica made a run for it. It didn’t seem as if she’d enjoyed the kiss.

Slade let out a loud breath and turned back to the game, hoping to calm himself before they walked in. Except
they
didn’t walk in. Jessica walked in alone. In fact, she leaned against the door as if she was relieved. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her walking toward the bar. She smiled at Jamie Lynn, who was tending bar, then at Jett, who was enjoying a beer with some of the regulars, Marty and Tripp, who she also greeted, and then she went around behind the bar. Was she working tonight?

She looked so incredibly gorgeous. Seeing her all dressed up to go out with someone else was like a stab to the chest. Jessica still hadn’t seen him but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He watched as she slammed a glass on the counter. Jamie Lynn said something to her. She shook her head, laughed, then poured some whiskey and swigged it down in one gulp. Then she refilled her glass, came out from behind the bar, and sat down next to Jett, where she nursed her whiskey in relative silence for a few minutes. When the glass was empty again she reached over the bar, giving everyone behind her a perfect glimpse of her perfect ass, took the bottle of whiskey, poured some more, and placed the bottle back on the bar. She seemed pissed off, and he guessed the date hadn’t gone well.
Good!

Just then she spotted him, and her entire demeanor changed. She looked like a predator who had just spotted her prey.

She pointed at him and shouted, “You!” Everyone turned to look at her. She stood up and stalked toward Slade, wobbling slightly on her heels, which made Slade worry that she was about to break an ankle.

She came up to him looking sexy as hell, determined, mad, and unfulfilled. “You ruined my date!” she yelled, poking her cute pink fingernail at his chest.

“Me?” he said with a smirk, holding his hands out in surrender.

“Yes, you.” Everyone at the bar was listening to her loud accusation.

“Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned back toward the pool table, aimed the tip of his cue at the white ball, and shot, completely missing the ball. When he stood up and turned back toward her, she was an inch from his face.

“You know exactly what you did.”

The smell of whiskey and her familiar perfume assaulted his senses. His eyes closed as he took it all in.

Then she whispered something in his ear, so quietly that he thought he’d heard wrong. “And you’re going to finish it.”

His eyes snapped open.

Before he had a chance to react, she ripped the cue from his hand, leaned over, and with two deft shots cleared the table. “You suck at pool,” she said, shoving the cue at him, and walked away.

No one said anything for a moment. Slade wasn’t sure what to do.

At last Travis spoke. “Yo, if you’re not going to go after her, I will.”

“Make a move and I’ll kick your ass all the way back to Texas.” Slade dropped the cue and ran toward the door, hoping she hadn’t already left.

She wasn’t right outside the front door, so he went looking for her. It took him exactly two minutes to find her leaning against the wall in the alley between the bar and a small pet store.

“Took you long enough,” she said in a low, raspy voice as her eyes firmly held his.

Thank God for the liquid courage. Jessica was so riled up with sexual tension, thanks to Slade’s earlier display of assholeness, that she was ready to explode. Had he not followed her, she wasn’t sure what she would’ve done. She was carless, annoyed, and turned on beyond reason. Fortunately, all six foot four inches of him stalked toward her. Her body shook in anticipation. The closer he got, the more aware she became of her own heartbeat. His tongue darted out and he licked his lower lip. Her eyes immediately focused on his mouth. Her heart continued to pound against her chest. He looked dangerous. Her back was already against the wall, and there was no place else for her to go. No escape. Not that she wanted to escape. She had invited danger to her, and now there was no evading it.

Slade leaned close to her body, his forearm against the wall right above her head. She had to look up to see his face.

“Good date?”

“Fuck you,” she spat.

He placed his free hand against his chest and pretended to gasp. “Jessica Cross! You cursed!” He licked his lips again. “And is that an invitation?”

“I’m that mad, and no, it is not an invitation.”
Doesn’t he realize there’s no invitation needed? The red carpet has been rolled out and the welcome mat’s out.

“Mad?” He lowered his face a little, closer to her neck now.

She swallowed as her heart continued to pound. She didn’t answer. She wanted this. God, did she want this. She needed this.

“Correct me if I’m wrong…but I think we’re done being friends.” Jessica didn’t move. “Let me explain something to you, Jessica.” His mouth was now on her neck, licking, kissing, sucking. She moaned. She didn’t mean to, but the way he had left her earlier was just…just cruel. And she was just finding out that a certain little spot on her neck where his lips currently nibbled had a direct line to the intimate spot between her legs. Her head fell back against the wall. His voice was now serious. “We’re getting back together. You’re mine. No more dating other people, no more playing bullshit games. And you are
not
moving back to Charlotte.” He nibbled a little rougher this time. “Understand?”

Her eyes were closed, and her head was thrown back against the wall. She was about to climb on top of this man.
Wait…had he said something?
She opened her eyes when the nibbling stopped. “Understand?” he repeated. Jessica nodded, not really sure what the question was but at this point the man could’ve asked her to rob a bank and she’d probably agree to it. She was in a complete sexual haze.

He stopped, pulled back slightly, and held her chin up so that they were eye to eye. “Jessica. You’re mine. Understand?” Jessica looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. Really? Was he serious? Who said things like that? What year were they living in? No way was he serious.

She cleared her throat. “Uh…yeah, sure. Whatever. Please just keep doing what you were doing.” She lifted her neck again as an invitation to his mouth, but it never came. In fact, the weight of his body against hers lightened.

“You working tomorrow?” he asked.

She had to gather her thoughts. She wasn’t prepared for an actual conversation, with actual questions. She wanted more of the kissing. More of the mouth. She was ready to get on her knees and beg.

“Jess? Work? Tomorrow?”

“Um…yeah. Yes. Work. Tomorrow.”

“What time do you get off?”

She looked at him. Her mind was clearly still on the sex track, and so all she heard was “get off.” She nodded.
Yes…get me off. That was the question, right?

“Work? Time?” He looked amused. The lust in her eyes was probably so obvious.

“Oh. Get off. Work. Get off work, tomorrow?” she stammered. He nodded, grinning. “Uh…no more work. Today was my last day.” Why were they talking about tomorrow or the day after? How about now, right now? She needed him…she needed something. Now!