Tempting Sydney (6 page)

Jax pulled She-Ra’s keys from his pocket and dropped them into my hand. “How’d you get this car?”

We’d gone from werewolf sex to car questions in less than ten seconds. I felt like I had verbal whiplash and it took me a minute to get my bearings after the subject change. My mind was still stuck on what he’d look like naked—with or without claws. I shook it off and answered his question, “I stole it. How do you think I got it?”

His lips tilted in a half grin. “It’s a pretty unique car. Red mentioned your dad made you learn about it. Was it his?”

I usually hated when people stereotyped muscle cars as not for girls. I also hated when people assumed my dad / grandpa / boyfriend / sugar daddy bought my car, but Jax seemed genuinely interested, not condescending. “Yeah. My dad bought it when he was in high school and drove it on the weekends when I was growing up. I loved going out with him and riding in the car. He told me that if I kept my grades up, he’d give me the car when I turned sixteen. He made me spend a year learning about the car and how it worked before he let me drive it. And even though he wanted to give it to me as a sixteenth birthday gift, I didn’t let him. I got a job and paid him back. He agreed to that, but insisted on paying for the maintenance and insurance. He said it was the least I could do for being born with boobs and not making his insurance premium skyrocket.”

Jax grinned, his eyes sliding down to my lilac shirt, the top three buttons undone and hinting at the lacy purple bra I had beneath it. He’d clearly noticed the cleavage tease. “I’m also really fond of your boobs—for other reasons.”

“I’m sure you’re fond of boobs in general.”

“Yours are special.”

My stomach fluttered and I looked down, trying to hide my smile as I answered, “Uh huh.”

“You look more dressed up than usual today.” His eyes went over me again, taking in the tailored jeans, silk button-up shirt, and black heels. “Did you have a job interview or something?”

“No. It was my first day of law school. I’m going to go home and study, then try to relax before things get even more hectic tomorrow.”

His expression changed from a guy checking me out, to a guy slightly more intrigued with my brain than my bra size. It’s a rare thing to see. “I didn’t know you wanted to be a lawyer.”

“It runs in the family. I love the law, though, and I think it’s great that I’ll get paid to argue.”

He laughed. “I imagine that’s something you excel at.”

Now it was my turn to grin. “I had years of practice debating my dad. He’s an attorney, too.”

He cocked his hip out and leaned against the car. “So you have a good relationship with your dad?”

I nodded. “My mom was the cautious one. My dad let me have fun. It was a good parenting combination. Maybe not for them—I’m sure they argued like crazy over what I should be allowed to do—but, it was good for me to have them both, and see both sides.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“Nope,” I answered. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

Jax’s face shuttered. “Complicated. I don’t see them often.”

His immediate shutdown of all things emotional made me wonder about the backstory behind his feelings and his family relationships. “Siblings?”

“Yeah. I’m the oldest.”

“Ah, so you were the test child,” I said. I’d had friends who were test children. They were all pretty bitter about the advantages their younger siblings got from their pain.

“Still am.”

I shifted my bag on my back, adjusting the weight from all of my books. “I always felt like I missed out on something by not having siblings. Growing up, I thought a brother or sister would be a lot like having a built-in friend.” Jax crossed his arms over his chest as he listened to me. “Now that I’m older, though, I realize that just because you have a sibling, it doesn’t mean you’re always going to be close. People change as they grow, and sometimes that means drifting apart.”

He looked off into the distance like he was thinking, and then nodded. “Families can be complicated.” He opened the car door for me and I got in, fastened my seat belt, and started the car. “Let me know if you have any problems with the tire—” he paused and leaned down into the window, his face inches from mine. His contemplative look had been replaced by a mischievous one—“or if you need someone better than a werewolf.”

“He actually said to let him know if you need someone better than a werewolf?” Brynn asked, eyes wide.

I replayed the conversation in my head, licking my lips as I did. I nodded, and Brynn laughed. “You want him. Bad.”

“No!” I shook my head fervently. “I totally don’t. Really.” Even I knew I didn’t sound believable.

She snorted a laugh. “You stare off into space every time you mention him, and you always lick your lips when you’re thinking about him. I haven’t seen you this obsessed with a guy since the Henry Cavill look-a-like lived on our dorm floor freshman year.”

I gave a dreamy sigh, remembering doppelganger Cavill’s perfect…everything. “Damn, he was hot.”

Brynn picked up her purse and took one last look in the mirror. She swiped a finger over her lip line, checking to make sure none of her Wicked Crimson lipstick had escaped to unauthorized places. She liked to draw attention to her mouth.

“Who are you going out with tonight?” I asked.

After getting my tire fixed, I’d spent all afternoon buried in text books, case studies, and homework. Brynn had apparently used the time differently. Her classes for her Masters in Psychology had started today, too. It seemed she’d already found more research candidates. “A guy in one of my classes. He looks like a pirate. I hope he’s up for role playing.”

I gave a disbelieving laugh. “How do you get guys to agree to all of this?” My sexual experience landed far more on the vanilla side of things than Brynn’s—not by choice, however. In fact, every guy I’d suggested something more creative with had almost gone flaccid at the thought. Maybe it was because they were too young and inexperienced. It wasn’t my fault I’d been reading romance novels since I was a teenager and had plenty of interesting sexual knowledge to draw from. The guys I’d dated definitely hadn’t read romance novels, and weren’t up for the challenge. My mind went straight to Jax, and what he would be up for. I mean, hell—he was apparently better than a werewolf. The train of thought immediately made me hot—everywhere.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to keep calm until Brynn left at least. I had a vibrator upstairs fully-powered and ready to give me some relief, but I’d rather wait until she was gone to retreat to my room.

“I’m excellent at persuasion,” she said, grabbing her keys. “And in the heat of the moment, it’s not difficult to get a guy to do pretty much anything.” Huh. That hadn’t been my experience. “I’ll let you know if I have another entry for my research file when I get home.”

I rolled my eyes as she walked out the door. I took a drink of my ice water—which did nothing to help alleviate the ache between my thighs, or the seam in my jeans that was pressing into
just
the right spot.

Jax.

Naked.

My body heated as I thought about what sex with Jax would be like. Him, naked and on top of me, his strong arms flexing as he held himself above me. Naked and behind me was even better. Or maybe me on top of him, riding him fast and hard. My face flushed and my breath became ragged. Relieved I was finally alone, I took a deep breath and started straight for my bedroom when the doorbell rang.

I muttered a string of curses under my breath and briefly considered pretending I wasn’t home. Then the doorbell rang again. I wanted to be upstairs behind the privacy of my bedroom door. Not worrying about people on my porch. But I didn’t think I’d be able to concentrate if I thought someone was still outside, casing the joint. This time, a solid, thudding knock hit and I jumped. I scowled, marching to the door. So help me, if this was a salesperson or someone asking me to find Jesus, I would take off my sock and throw it at them. I had priorities, and they had nothing to do with chatting about my preferred religion, or cable company.

I swung open the door, totally annoyed at the interruption, and came face-to-face with a wide, sculpted chest. My eyes quickly traveled up to his perfect face and panty-dropper eyes. Jax was holding a box of pizza, six pack of beer, and wearing his standard jeans and a tight black tee shirt.

I wanted to rip them all off.

Right there.

I probably wouldn’t even take the time to close the door.

My current agitated state didn’t help matters. I’d been on my way upstairs to take care of the images of Jax in my head. Now I had the real-life man standing in front of me looking like he seriously needed to be relieved of clothes and thoroughly kissed. I reminded myself to stop being so horny and focus on the goal. Jax’s lips tipped up, his expression a little sly, like he was holding a secret behind it that only he knew. My brows came together and I smiled, a combination of confusion and amusement. “Umm…hi.”

“Hey, Syd.” His perfect mouth curved up and I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted it to be doing—to me.

I shook myself out of his lip spell. “What are you doing here?”

He glanced down at the cargo in his arms and arched a brow before meeting my eyes again. “What do you think?”

“Well, it looks like you’re about to have dinner.”

“I am. With you.”

His sudden appearance had jolted me enough that some of my blood had started flowing to my brain again so I could focus. I folded my arms across my chest. “I don’t remember you asking me to dinner.”

“I just did.”

Oooookay. That was assertive. “How did you find my house?”

He smirked and leaned against the door frame. “Your address is on the invoices I print out for you at Red’s. I noticed.”

I wasn’t sure whether to be freaked out or impressed. “That’s kind of…stalker-y.”

He leaned into me. “Sweetheart, if I wanted to stalk you, I wouldn’t show up with pizza and a movie.”

I didn’t want to think of what he’d do if he was really stalking me. Well, I did want to, but I wasn’t upstairs alone in my room, and I didn’t know if I could refrain from attacking him like a puma, so I thought it best not to think about that at all. I opened the door wider, cocking my hip to the side. “Well, since you brought pizza and I haven’t had dinner, I guess you can come in.”

He raised one brow. “That’s the kind of invitation I like to hear.”

I rolled my eyes.

He put the food on the coffee table and I went to the kitchen for plates, glasses, and napkins. When I came back, he was putting a movie in the DVD player. He already had a slice of pizza in his hand and was half way through it. The pizza looked like it had every possible topping the restaurant offered. I knew I’d drop pieces of it all over the place and make a mess, so I grabbed a knife and fork from the kitchen.

I sat down on the couch, took a piece of pizza from the box and put it on my plate. I also grabbed a napkin for my lap. Jax sat down beside me. My heart skipped a beat as our knees touched, and my mouth went dry. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned the TV and DVD player on, queuing up the movie.

“What are we watching?”

He glanced over at me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Something with werewolves.”

I tried to push down my rising blush, but didn’t succeed. He gave me a cocky grin. I looked down at my food like cutting my pizza was the most important task in the world. I was still blushing, but it would have been worse if I was staring right at him.

“Uh, Syd?

“What?” I asked, my focus held on my plate.

“Are you seriously eating pizza with utensils?”

I pushed my brows together, not understanding why that seemed weird, but glad I had something to take my mind off of werewolf Jax, and my embarrassment. “Yeah, I’ll make a mess if I don’t.” I turned my head, and pointed at him with my knife. “Unlike you, I’m not a caveman.”
He shook his head, still chuckling. “Were you always like this? Or did something happen in your childhood to make you this uptight?”

I wrinkled my nose. I’d never really thought about it like that before. I didn’t like the description. “I’m not uptight. I’m just organized, clean, and well-mannered.”

He grinned. “If that’s what you want to call it, sweetheart.”

I thought more about his questions as we both ate. And the more I thought about it, the more irritated I got. He was making it sound like I had a stick up my ass. I felt the need to defend myself. “I’ve always been a perfectionist. I want to be my best, and I don’t like creating additional work for myself. If I do it right the first time, I don’t have to worry about that.” I paused to chew. Then swallowed and took a drink of my beer, Blue Moon, my favorite. I wondered how he knew that. I watched an olive drop onto his plate; he picked it up, and popped it in his mouth with his fingers. “Just like that,” I said, pointing. “If I didn’t have utensils, I’d be picking up lost pizza pieces over and over again. Why make the extra work for myself when I can be efficient—and much more civilized—with a knife and fork?”

He shook his head. “I suppose you think some epic disaster will happen if you lose a pepper?”