Hot in Here (14 page)

Cuddling with him like this, spooned close together while Bryce idly toyed with the ends of her hair, was

something worth savoring. It was almost as if . . . Jenna bit back the thought and instead cast her gaze out

the window, to the dark sky and the smattering of stars that dotted the horizon.

She mustn’t read too much into this closeness they were now sharing. Just because she was falling

deeper and deeper into love didn’t mean Bryce was.

What he’d done to her on that table with his mouth and hands . . . Good Lord, she couldn’t bring herself

to think of that, or how damn hard it had been to keep from crying outI love you . She’d only just

stopped herself in time by biting her lip and allowing herself to totally give her body up to Bryce.

But while she had been crazed with lust and devoured by passion, Jenna couldn’t conceal the fact that

Bryce had been all too happy to accept her terms. Hot, sweaty, anywhere sex without entanglements. If

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she hadn’t been so crazed with lust, she might have felt sick at just how quickly Bryce had jumped at the

chance to have all the sex he wanted with her, and no commitments.

Jenna closed her eyes when she felt Bryce’s soft, pliant mouth move along the column of her neck. He

was hard again. She could feel his cock thickening against her bottom. His palm, so warm and soft, was

gliding up her thighs, moving between them until he cupped her sex.

This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? This was the perfect execution of her plan, the “play the playgirl”

scheme. And it had worked, hadn’t it? She’d secured Bryce’s sexual interest. But the glow of victory

had suddenly faded.

“Damn, you were incredible, Jenna,” Bryce murmured as he nuzzled her earlobe while he brushed the

head of his erection across her butt. “I had no idea you were such a hellcat in the sack.” His chuckle was

deep and sexy. “For that matter, who knew I would come like a hand grenade? God, it was explosive.

I’venever felt that before. I think I went blind for a second or two.”

Warmth tingled through her veins at Bryce’s compliment. She had been wild, but so had he. And the way

her body seemed to come alive with his touch, the way it opened, like the petals of a rose, was sheer

beauty. He had such command of her body, her mind. God help her, Bryce Ryder owned her body and

soul.

“What about some supper?” he asked as he took a nip of her neck. His hand had slid down to her belly,

where her stomach rumbled none too discreetly. “The steaks are probably ruined but I could cook the

shrimp. We could eat it in bed while we watch a movie. Then,” he said around a yawn, “we could take a

shower, slip into bed, make love and fall asleep.”

Make love?Every pore of her being was heating up, just replaying what she’d heard. Had Bryce made

love to her? Was he already feeling a closeness to her that he hadn’t felt with his other lovers? Was she

already special to him? Something more than just an easy and convenient lay?

Play the playgirl.

Rachel’s mantra suddenly filled Jenna’s head. She needed to keep to the plan, even though her heart

wasn’t fully in it. Jenna wasn’t the type to play games, but sexual games were something Bryce excelled

at. If she were going to have any sort of chance with him at all, she needed to be as aloof and as

untouchable as he’d always been. The object denied was always more desirable.

“Actually,” she said, as she turned to peer up at him, “I really do have those files to go over. Tomorrow

morning my client is calling from Milan, and I need to have some sort of plan put together.”

“So we’ll skip the movie, and we’ll eat in bed while we look over the files?”

“No, really, I can’t do that.”

He blinked, and Jenna saw something that looked like skepticism shine in his hazel eyes.

“Little Jenna McCabe, playing hard to get?” he asked in a teasing, seductive voice, but Jenna heard the

disbelief he was trying so hard to disguise. “C’mon, Jen, you know you want me to stay the night.”

God, yes. Stay the night. Stay forever.

No. She had to be strong. If she gave in now, he would quickly lose interest.

Jenna sat up and held the sheet to her breasts while she searched the floor for something to put on.

“I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but I haven’t been putting my life on hold, waiting around for the

day you decide to grace me with your renowned bedroom skills.”

“Hey,” he said, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing that about three hours of work won’t cure.”

“I know something that will be a far better cure for what ails you than work,” he said teasingly, reaching

for the sheet. “Why don’t you lie back and see just how much I can relax you?”

Something in Jenna suddenly snapped. She didn’t know where the anger came from, but she let it out.

“Maybe all your other women had nothing better to do than allow themselves to be enthralled by the

pleasure of your company and cock, but I have a life. And a business.”

His mouth dropped open, and Jenna saw his eyes suddenly grow dark. This was what came of being

chased by women.

Jenna was suddenly seeing a side of Bryce she never had. The selfish, egotistical side. The side that liked

to call the shots. He liked control, and relationships were about give and take. Bryce was selfish.

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But not in bed,a little voice reminded her. He was the most generous lover she’d ever had.

That’s not enough,she argued back. Jenna had told herself that the forever after would come in time, but

the longer she looked at Bryce, the more she began to believe that he was incapable of a real

relationship.

“OK, I get the point,” he grumbled as he got up off the bed and reached for his jeans. “You don’t need

me hanging around, distracting you.”

“It’s not like I can’t focus on anything else when you’re near, you know,” she snapped, shooting his

muscled back and tight ass a glare.

Pulling his jeans over his hips, he turned to face her as he buttoned up the fly. “Okay, so what is it then?

What’s with kicking me out of your bed when I know damn well you enjoyed what I did to you in it?”

Self-preservation.

The word snuck into her thoughts before she could stop it. She could tell herself it was part of the plan to

play the vixen to his playboy, but that wasn’t the whole truth. In reality, having Bryce spend the night,

holding her, sleeping beside her, was . . . too much. To wake up beside him would be a taste of what it

would be like if he loved her. And Jenna couldn’t stand to have just a taste.

He was studying her, she realized, and she turned away, still wrapped in the sheet. It was the only thing

protecting her right now.

“So, this is what you truly want? Just some sex on the side when you’re feeling like it?” He cursed,

dragging his hands through his hair. “I never figured you for that kind of girl, Jenna.”

She stiffened at the innuendo she heard in his voice, but steeled herself against the tumultuous feelings it

produced. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

“Bullshit. You’ve always been an open book to me, and you always will.”

“People change.”

“So, do you have plans for the weekend?” he asked in what could only be described as a snarl.

She cast a glare his way. “No.”

“No? You and Jimmy not getting together to hit the files?” he taunted. “He seems like such an eager

employee. I’m sure you’d have no problems convincing him to spend the weekend with you.”

“James is my employee.”

“Yeah, with fringe benefits. Last time I saw Jimbo, he had his tongue down your throat. Don’t tell me

he’s just business, Jenna. I got eyes.”

She gasped in outrage. “What are you talking about?”

He glared at her as he smoothed his hands through his rumpled hair. “My Christmas party last year? You

two were practically fucking in the cloak room.”

“We were not,” she cried, sounding all screechy and guilty.

“Please.I saw the two of you. I saw where Jimmy liked to keep his hands, which were either plastered on

your ass or your tits all night long.”

“We . . . we kissed,” she fumbled, flustered that Bryce knew of her brief flirtation with James. “It wasn’t

anything.”

“Oh, really?”

“James and I are associates, nothing more. When we meet, it’s business.”

“And I’m certain that it’s all in the name of work, of course. Because you don’t need another fuck

buddy, do you? That’s where I come in.”

“Bryce—”

“And I plan on being the best damn buddy you could imagine. So, no plans? Good. Since tomorrow is

Friday,” he mumbled as he shoved his T-shirt over his head, “we could do dinner and maybe a movie.

Or maybe hit a nightclub if you want.”

“I—I don’t think so, Bryce. It sounds like a date, and we’ve agreed we’re not dating. Let’s leave things

as we first intended.”

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The woman standing before him looked like Jenna, a delightfully rumpled, passion-ravaged Jenna. But

the words didn’t belong to her.

“Look, Bryce. There’s no need to do dinners and movies. People will just think that there’s something

going on between us.”

“And there isn’t?” His voice was flat.

“Well, sex,” she said, shrugging. “Good sex. But that’s all.”

Something in his gut fell to his feet. This wasn’t the real Jenna talking. The real Jenna wouldn’t offer her

body without any commitment. The real Jenna wouldn’t want sex without emotion. She’d want the

romance. The relationship. This was the woman who watched that rain-drenched kiss scene fromThe

Notebook over and over, until even he had it memorized. This was the woman he’d teased after finding

her piles of romance novels hidden in the hayloft. This woman, the one standing before him, couldn’t

possibly want just the sex. Could she?

“I know that’s what we agreed,” he said slowly, “but I thought maybe . . .” His heart was pounding in his

chest. God, was he really going to say it? That he wanted more than just a romp in her bed? That he

wanted that kiss in the rain and everything that went with it? And he wanted it with Jenna. With the

sweet, shy girl he’d known for so long. He staggered back a step with the shock of what he was

admitting to himself.

But she was done waiting for him to speak.

“The sexis good,” she said as she dropped the sheet and pulled on a pink satin robe. “But both of us

know that these sorts of things die out as quickly as they flare up. Why make people think there’s more

to this than there is?”

For the briefest of seconds, time felt suspended as they looked at each other.

“So you’re really okay with this?” Bryce said. “You don’t want anything more?”

“I’ve told you—”

“Let’s hear it. For the record.”

“No, I don’t want anything more.”

Rage and hurt like nothing he’d ever experienced before sliced through him. “Thanks for the fuck,” he

spit out. “When I feel like getting laid again, I’ll know who to call.”

He couldn’t stay another minute. He didn’t want to see her standing there in her pink robe and

kiss-swollen lips and her rumpled hair. He didn’t want to see the bed where they’d shared their bodies.

He didn’t want to see this Jenna. Christ, he was really beginning to hate the woman standing before him.

How could what they had experienced mean nothing more to her than just fucking?

He knew fucking. Had done it hundreds of times. And what they’d done was the furthest thing from just

an empty screw.

In a flash he was at the door, reaching for his car keys on the shelf of Jenna’s entertainment cabinet. As

he grabbed the keys, he knocked down a silver frame. He picked it up, meaning to set it back in place,

until he saw what the picture was.

He couldn’t help but smile—a sad smile—as he looked down at the picture of him and Jenna sitting in the

hayloft of her father’s barn. They’d just come from the pond, and his hair was long and wet, clinging

around his neck. Jenna was wearing a white T-shirt that clung to her bathing suit.

They were sitting side by side, Jenna’s arms around his neck and his around her waist. They were

smiling, their heads tilted so that they were touching each other. He’d been wearing nylon swimming

shorts, and had been horrified by the hard-on that had sprung up between them as he felt her breasts, big

even then, press up against his chest. He’d been afraid of Jenna knowing. But she had just smiled, her

own sweet smile, and kind of melted into him.

This was the Jenna he had always known. The longer he stared down at the picture, the more he asked

himself if any of the old Jenna resided in the woman he’d just left in the bedroom.

When he closed the apartment door, he was still staring at the picture he’d taken. As he looked at

Jenna—looked at them together—he realized that he needed to know what remained of the old Jenna.

Because, he admitted to himself, that was who he wanted.

The real Jenna McCabe.

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The hellcat he’d been doing these past two days was a turn-on—there was no doubt about it. But had

the hellcat eaten his kitten?