Jack Hammer (8 page)

She swallowed hard. “Because you’re not. You’re teasing me. You like getting me all flustered and confused. Why?”

“Because you’re different. You’re sweet, and that sweetness drives me fucking crazy.”

She swallowed again before turning her face away from me. “So, you’re okay with starting right away?” she asked, avoiding my words and the obvious way her body was responding to me.

I grinned down at her before stepping away and spreading my arms wide. “You’re the boss.”

And until I managed to push past the guard I’d forced her to put up, she’d set the pace. I’d endure every second of her sweet torture. She was worth it.

11

CHELSEY

IT WAS A LITTLE PAST MIDNIGHT,
and there was a strange noise outside my bedroom window. My heart pounded in my throat in fear, and I sat silent as I wanted for the noise to sound again.

My parents bought our house a few years before I was born and I grew up there. There were never any issues with sleeping alone in my room. I was never the kind of scary kid who pulled their blanket in their parent’s room and slept on the floor. But when the weird noise sounded throughout my space again, I felt panic.

I didn’t believe in the supernatural or ghosts, so I was seriously starting to doubt my sanity. But then it sounded again and my body went tense. I sat up in my bed, holding my weight on my elbows, and held my breath. I listened for the noise again so I could try and pinpoint where it was coming from.

I whimpered when I heard it again and a chill ran up my spine as I compared the sound to something or
someone
scratching outside my window. I stared out through the small opening in the curtains. The moon offered a tiny bit of light, but beyond that was only darkness.

I was staring so hard, waiting for some mythical creature to come busting through my window, that when I saw a shadow move in the moonlight, I screamed. The sound hurt my own ears and I clamped my hand over my mouth.

There was a brief stretch of silence, and then I heard a muffled voice from the other side of the window.

“Are you purposely trying to wake up the entire neighborhood?” Blaine whispered through the window.

My heart continued to pound wildly in my chest even after I recognized his voice. I scrambled off the bed and hurried toward the window, lifting it open.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, looking back toward my bedroom door.

I knew there was no way my scream had gone unheard. It was only a matter of time before my parents came charging into my room.

He pushed his head in. “What does it look like?”

My expression went slack and my face contorted with confusion as I tried to think around this entire situation.

“What?” I asked, still confused.

“Are you going to let me in or not?” He motioned for me to move out of his way.

“Not. You scared the crap out of me. You had me thinking my room was haunted.”

My rant was cut short as he pushed his way through the window. I couldn’t seem to breathe past the knot in my throat, and then it didn’t matter if I could or not because I was about to be dead.

My head turned toward the door where light flooded the hallway, spilling into my room from underneath my bedroom door.

“You have to—” I started.

But when I turned to face him, he was already gone.

My frown deepened as I twisted from side to side looking for Blaine, surprised by his quick disappearing act.

“Blaine?” I whispered, chewing on my lip nervously. “Where did you go?”

There was a light tap on my door before my father called my name softly from the other side.

“Are you okay, honey? We heard you scream.” His voice sounded muffled through the thick wood.

Taking a deep breath, I moved toward the door with one last look behind me. My room was still empty. I pulled it open and squinted against the bright, hallway light that spilled into my room.

Concern deepened the lines on my father’s aging face as he looked me over and then past me for any harm.

“I’m fine, Dad,” I said, sounding breathless.

I pulled the door tightly to my side, hoping to block out as much of my room as possible.

“We heard you scream.”

I laughed nervously. “I thought I saw something outside my window.”

He went on high alert, pushing his way into my room and toward my open window.

Shit!

I wanted to take back my last words, but it was too late.

“What did you see?’ he asked frantically. “Did you see a person? Maybe I should call the police.”

“No!” I shouted, almost falling forward in my outburst.

My father turned around, giving me a strange look. My hands were up in the air and I dropped them to my sides. My face flamed in embarrassment.

“It was a squirrel,” I lied. “Please. I feel silly. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He searched my face for a few seconds, and I managed to smile despite the pounding in my chest. The fact that Blaine was somewhere hidden in my room and my father could easily catch him was causing me to have a panic attack.

My father smiled, putting his hands in his robe pockets. “You and your mother were never fans of the dark or anything creepy or crawly. I remember the Halloween when you were eight. You were dressed up as little red riding hood. You declared it your last Halloween because you were too afraid of the spooky costumes.”

His smile softened at the memory, and I couldn’t help but return it.

“I was a bit dramatic back then. I remember calling a big family meeting.” I chuckled.

He laughed along with me. “Ah, yes. You made a pros and cons list that you went over with me and your mother.”

I buried my flaming face in my hands knowing Blaine was listening and gathering up ammo against me.

“Please, no more,” I complained.

My father took a deep breath and his shoulders dropped. He turned his head from side to side, looking at my walls. They were plastered in all things Columbia University. 

“Now my little girl is all grown up and going to be graduating soon.” Sadness darkened his eyes. “Soon you’ll be leaving to attend Columbia. Time’s moving too fast.”

“Oh, Daddy.” I hugged him, laying my face flat against his chest. “I haven’t technically gotten into Columbia yet, you know?”

“Yes you have,” he whispered.

A few more seconds passed and then he squeezed my shoulders and stepped back.

“I’ll let you go back to sleep.” He kissed my forehead and walked toward the door. Before he closed it he called my name and I turned toward him. “You let me know if that squirrel comes back. Okay?”

He could hardly contain his smile.

“I will.”

And then he was gone, shutting out the light with him.

I held my breath and didn’t move a muscle as I waited for the hall light to go off. Even when I was sure he was completely gone, I waited. A full two minutes went by before I moved to the door and pulled it open. Looking up and down the hall, I was satisfied that everything was as it should be.

Closing the door softly, I turned the lock and leaned against it with a relieved sigh.

“So, little red riding hood’s afraid of the big, bad wolf?” Blaine taunted from beside me. “Please tell me you still have that costume tucked away somewhere? Oh my God, it would be so tight on you now—all hugging your curves and shit.”

I turned toward his voice to find him lying on my bed with his arms folded behind his head and his long legs stretched out.

“Get out of my bed, Blaine,” I ordered, crossing my arms.

At first I didn’t think he was going to move, but then he curled his tall frame from my bed and stalked toward me. He backed me against my bedroom door in three strides, before he pressed his palms flat against the hard wood at the sides of my head. 

“That’s a first,” he whispered.

I lifted my head and met his gaze head on. “What’s a first?”

“It’s not often I get ordered
out
of a girl’s bed.” He grinned down at me, his plump lips looking completely kissable.

“That’s because you’re not attracted to good girls.”

“Is that what you are, Chelsey? A good girl?”

“Yes,” I rasped.

“There’s not even a tiny bit of something bad in you?”

“No,” I answered.

“That’s too bad.” He tsked. “Would you like something bad in you? I’d be happy to oblige.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m not going to fall into your trap, Blaine.”

He smiled, and then pushed away from the door holding his hands up in surrender. He tilted his head slightly and looked up at me from beneath his dark lashes. His unruly hair fell across his eyes making him look every bit the bad boy he was. I nearly became a puddle of mush when his smile turned into a scorching grin.

“I surrender, Miss Ford.”

I rolled my eyes, but my body flushed from the inside out. “What are you doing here, Blaine?”

He shrugged, and everything but my question seemed to catch his attention as his eyes took in my bedroom.

“You said you wanted to start on our project as soon as possible.”

“And you thought I meant at midnight?”

He walked over to the only bookcase in my room and pulled a book from the stuffed shelf. “I thought that was code.” He looked over at me, cocking an eyebrow.

“Code? I don’t do code.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot. You’re a good girl.”

I glared. “When I said as soon as possible, I meant at school, during the day.”

He flipped through the pages of the book in his hands. “You mean when people are around so you don’t have to be alone with me?”

I ignored his question. “Or in the library where there are plenty of textbooks around.”

“Speaking of books, have you read all these?”

His hand swept up and down the five shelf bookcase.

“Yes.”

He whistled.

“Impressive.” He closed the book in his hands. “The Edge of Darkness,” he read aloud, looking over the cover in his hands. “What’s this about?”

“It’s a romance,” I answered, walking over to him. “You wouldn’t like it.”

I tried to take the book from his hand, but he held on tight.

“How do you know what I would or wouldn’t like?” He gave the book a tug and I followed, my thighs brushing against his.

“You don’t seem like the romantic type.”

“How would you know? We’ve been on
one
date.”

I frowned, failing to see the point of his argument. “And that
one
date ended with us being arrested.”

“Some would find that romantic.” He shrugged.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, hoping to keep my smile hidden. “I guess so.”

“Uh oh, Little Doe,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Your bad girl side is showing a little bit. You better tuck that back in before someone sees it.”

This time I couldn’t hold back my smile.

“I never said
I
found it romantic,” I pointed out.

“Then what do you find romantic?” he asked.

“My books. They’re all the romance I need.”

“Because you don’t have time for real life romance?”

“Exactly.”

He pursed his lips together and nodded like he understood exactly what I meant. When he started flipping through the pages again, I frowned.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m learning,” he said. He stopped on a page and began to skim it.

“Learning what?”

“The kind of romance you like.”

I went to grab the book again, but he moved it out of my grasp.

“Blaine, give me my book.” I sounded like a child, but I didn’t care. I
did not
want him reading my books and finding out the things I liked to read about.”

“Well, well, well,” he said with a huge smile. “My little doe likes sexy, romance novels.”

I wanted to die, and I actually thought I was going to get my wish when I felt my entire body burn in embarrassment.

“Can I have my book now?”

“Not yet.” And then he was reading out loud. “
‘I bit her bottom lip gently and she gasped before wilting into my touch.
’” In between the words he memorized, his eyes would find mine. “‘
I pulled on her bottom lip, sucking on it softly, and her fingers gripped my shirt tightly. I ran the tip of my tongue across the seam of her lips and they opened willingly.’
”

He closed the book with a thump and then handed it back to me. I put it back in its place. Turning away from him, I wondered how I was ever going to be able to look him in the face again.

“I never would’ve thought it,” he said.

“What?” I asked, without turning around.

“That they wrote stuff like that in books.”

“That’s funny considering the type of reading material guys like you like to
read.
” I felt my face getting hotter.

Why did I have to go there?

“You mean porn?” he asked. “Not really my thing.”

I turned around, knowing I couldn’t avoid him forever.

“What type of books do you like to read?”

“I’m not really a reader. I’m more of a car guy.” He shrugged, running his fingers along the bindings of the books on my shelf.