Tempting Sydney (7 page)

“No. It just doesn’t look very nice when a grown woman eats like a toddler.”

“I don’t have a problem with it. In fact,” he said, smiling slowly and licking his lips, “I’d like to see you use your hands.”

The look-and-lick did nothing to help my girl parts. They were overjoyed someone as swoon-worthy as Jackson West was paying any attention to me. My ovaries hadn’t gotten the message that the hot man currently rubbing his leg against mine in an effort to make my blood pressure explode would absolutely not be getting naked with me tonight.

I gave a small smile, shaking my head at the innuendo—and how freaking sexy he was. “You’re a guy. You have a different set of rules that allow you to occasionally act like a Neanderthal. You should thank your dad and his Y chromosome.”

Jax grabbed another slice of pizza and leaned back, kicking a leg up on the coffee table. His plate rested on his stomach like his abs were a slab of granite. Hard and thick. He looked over at me as he ate, watching me for far longer than I was comfortable with, almost like he was studying me. “Tell me more about the pretty, perfect Sydney Parker.”

I wiped at my mouth with my napkin and took a drink, but inside, I was doing tiny jumping jacks of joy that Jax had called me pretty. I’d already committed the statement to memory, and deconstructed it five times. “What do you want to know?”

“Where did you grow up?”

I shrugged. “All over the place. We moved around a lot. My dad was military.”

“So I should be worried about guns when I meet him?”

I arched a brow. “You’re pretty confident if you think you’ll be meeting my parents someday.”

His mouth slid into a shit-eating grin.

He was so…aggravating, and attractive at the same time. It annoyed me on a visceral level. “Yeah. Guns, grenades, and probably even ninja knives.”

He whistled, his eyebrows coming together in mock concern. “Good to know.”

“I told you earlier that I’m an only child,” I said, taking another drink of my beer. “My parents are protective…especially when it comes to men.”

“Thanks for the warning.” He grabbed another slice of pizza. I was damn jealous of his ability to eat so much junk food and still look like his body was carved by the gods. “How many men—or boys—would you say they’ve protected you from?”

A smile tugged at my lips. “Is that your way of asking for my dating history?”

He shrugged. “I’m just trying to learn more about you.”

I watched him closely. It felt like he was trying to gauge his level of competition, but I didn’t think Jax was the type of guy who wanted a relationship, so I couldn’t understand why he’d care. “I’ve had boyfriends, but no one serious. School has always been my focus.”

He thought about that for a minute as he ate, then said, “Interesting. So, you were an only child who moved around a lot. I bet that was hard. Must have been tough to make friends—and have relationships.”

He was right about that. Every time I really started to connect with someone, it seemed like my dad would get transferred. “I don’t think I had any true friends until I came to college. Then I met Brynn, and we’ve been attached at the hip ever since.”

“You seem pretty different from each other.”

I tilted my head as I thought about it, trying to see our friendship from another perspective. Jax had only watched Brynn and I together once—at the Soup and Spoon. From the outside, I could see his point. We had different goals, and different personalities. But when it came down to core beliefs, we were actually really similar. “In some ways, but not in others. We share the same opinions about a lot of things.”

“She dates—if you can call it that—way more than you, though, right?”

I couldn’t argue. “She has an active social life. I think we just define college success differently. She measures it by friends, guys, and parties. I measure it by my GPA.” I took another bite of pizza. The rich, red sauce was my favorite. “What about you?” I asked. “Have you met a lot of people since you moved to Winchester?”

He shrugged and took a long drink of his beer. “I’ve met a lot of people, but no. I don’t have a lot of friends.” He took another drink, and I thought that might be the end of the conversation, but he surprised me. “I’m not really close to many people. I don’t like to burden others with my problems. It’s easier for me to deal with things on my own.”

I slid a glance to him, wondering what in his life had caused him to decide solitude was the best way to deal with his issues. “That’s a pretty lonely way to live.”

“Maybe,” he paused, his gaze dipping to me, “but you’ve been…a surprise.”

I blinked, shocked. I wasn’t expecting that confession, and I wasn’t really sure how to take it, either. “Thanks…I think.”

He smiled faintly, and changed the subject. “So, tell me more. What other finger foods do you eat with utensils?”

I laughed, setting my plate on the coffee table. “Chocolate.”

His eyes went wide and he stared at me, dumbfounded. “Chocolate?”

I nodded.

“Why?”

“It melts on my fingers if I hold it.”

He grinned and shook his head, watching me for a long time. He sat up and leaned forward, his left elbow resting on his knee as he held my gaze. “Someone needs to make you come completely undone, Sydney Parker.” His tongue moved slowly over his lips. “That someone is going to be me.”

I inhaled a rattled breath, ensorcelled by his eyes and his words. “We’ll see about that,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. He affected me in a way no one had before, and I didn’t want him to know how much. I was barely capable of admitting it to myself.

“No. We won’t,” he said, his tone authoritative. “I’ve already decided it.”

He hit play on the DVD remote, and leaned back, his arm now brushing against mine in addition to his leg. I spent the next two hours watching a movie about a werewolf, completely turned on, next to the man who had taken my breath away.

Jax’s ‘undone’ comment stuck with me for days. Yes, days—despite my efforts to remedy that. Through five days, one test, two quizzes, my volunteer hours at CARE, at least ten movies, and an attempt to read a book that I’d abandoned once a werewolf showed up. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, or him, or about what I might want from him. And that scared me. Because the thought of a potential relationship—with anyone—made my stomach knot, and seriously screwed with my five-year plan. But wanting a relationship with someone like Jackson West was terrifying, and would impact my whole life plan like a natural disaster.

However, the fact was that She-Ra needed gas. It was far below my half tank comfort zone; it was even below a quarter tank. I couldn’t let it go much more or I’d be stuck on the side of the road calling Red to bring me gas, and Jax would probably be the one to rescue me. I could go somewhere besides Red’s shop to get it, but he always gave me a deal, and I liked supporting him instead of one of the big chains. But at Red’s, I might run into Jax. My current state of indecision about what exactly I wanted would be made worse if I stopped for gas and Jax’s abs were there.

After he’d started the movie last week, Jax had sat next to me, our bodies pulling toward each other like magnets. He occasionally moved, his hand brushing against mine, his leg pressing into my own, creating an energetic friction that seemed to flow straight to my core. The movie was two hours long. I spent the entire time thinking about Jax, and what I really wanted to be doing to him instead of watching a movie. I was pretty sure he knew it, too. I caught him smirking a few times. When he’d finally gotten up to leave, the air in the house had been charged with so much sexual tension that I considered dragging him up to my bedroom, or back to the couch. Hell, even the living room floor would do. I just wanted him. More than anything. I’d managed to contain myself, however, and let him leave. And then I wore out the batteries on my vibrator.

The feeling had scared me, though. I’d never wanted sex, or a man, as much as I wanted Jax. When I thought of what I wanted more: hot sex with Jax, or graduating in the top one percent of my law school, sex with Jax surpassed my goals. That had never happened. Not once in my life. No man had ever taken precedence over my school and career plans. I wasn’t sure how to handle the information, but I knew it was something I needed to work through before I ran into him again or I might do something really out of character.

Seeing Jax at Red’s wasn’t really a problem so much as a threat of serious temptation. The number of my fantasies Jax had starred in since I’d known him—and especially during the
week of the werewolf
—could make him a card carrying member of the Screen Actors Guild.

I’d checked my watch, though—ten o’clock—and decided to chance the gas tank refill since it was still morning. I popped the pump into the tank and flipped the lever, switching it on. I kept discreetly scanning Red’s shop windows, but hadn’t seen Jax yet. So far, so good. I could live in denial for another day.

I finished filling up and took the pump out of the car, but there was gas left over in the pump. A few beads of gas caught on the edge of the tank and dribbled down the paint. “Shit,” I whispered. I rushed to put the pump back on its holder, and grabbed a paper towel next to the window squeegee. I crouched down to wipe the gas off.

“You should use a cleaner for that.” I glanced up and immediately forgot to breathe. Jax towered above me. Backlit by the morning sun and dressed all in black, he was practically glowing—like a freaking dark angel, coincidentally a costume he’d also worn in my mind. He looked like he’d just come from the gym. His sleeveless black shirt hugged his chest, and his biceps were corded with muscle. A blue and black tattoo of the number seventeen mixed in with a tribal design framed his upper arm. His matching black workout pants sat low on his hips, and his dark chocolate hair was clumped together in wet pieces. He was only a few feet from me, but I was confident that I’d be able to smell his pheromones from at least twenty paces.

Images of his SAG card earning roles started flashing through my mind. Between that and lack of air, I almost passed out. I remembered to inflate my lungs at the last second. He grinned, totally aware of my reaction to him. I narrowed my eyes, annoyed. I was acting like a giddy teenager with a crush. This was stupid. I was an adult. I needed to act like it. Yeah, he was attractive. So what? I spent time with a lot of attractive people and managed to function. This should be no different.

But it was.

And that was the problem.

“Move the car out of the pump lane, and I’ll grab something to clean it with,” he said, moving toward the garage.

“Okay.” I pulled She-Ra to one of the parking spots in front of Red’s. Jax came back out holding a paper towel and bottle of cleaner. He poured some cleaner on one of the towels before handing the bottle to me and rubbing the area the gas had dripped on. “This will take care of it, and you won’t have to worry about your paint.”

“Thanks,” I said, watching him. A chilly gust of wind kicked up out of nowhere. I shivered, and wrapped my arms around myself, eager to get back inside the car.

Jax noticed. “Are you cold?” He stood, tossing the paper towels in the trash. Reaching over, he put his palms on the sides of my arms and pushed gently, methodically, as he rubbed his hands up and down from my shoulders to my elbows. I shivered again—for a completely different reason—feeling like sparks were arcing at his touch. He was so warm, probably from his workout, and the contact was heating me up in more ways than one. The caress sent a thrill of excitement straight through me. I inhaled a rattled breath, trying to pass it off as another shiver. One corner of Jax’s lips lifted in a knowing expression. I didn’t think my fake shiver had worked.

“I’m fine. September just gets chilly sometimes in the mountains.” I loved this time of year, but wasn’t thrilled about the looming threat of winter.

“This is my favorite season,” Jax said. “I love watching things change, and the temperature is perfect…most times.”

“Mine, too,” I agreed. “I love driving through the mountains to see the fall colors on the trees. And I love when it’s still sixty or seventy degrees outside.”

He bent down and wiped the car one more time with a dry paper towel. When he finished, he straightened back up, turning to me. “Plus,” he said, slowly licking his lips, “sex in a pile of leaves is always fun.”

I tried not to register my surprise, but it was definitely present. I added ‘sex in leaves’ to the fantasy list in my head, as well as a reminder to inhale—and another to exhale. He didn’t need to know all of that, though. I attempted a blank face as I responded, “That seems unsanitary.”

He eyed me. “Do you ever have fun, or is everything by the rules for you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with rules,” I said, defensive. “They keep things organized and in line.”

He leaned toward me, curling his finger for me to move closer. I held my ground—mostly because I couldn’t decide if I wanted to acquiesce to his demand, or if I wanted to run from it. Running was a much safer choice. “I could keep you in line,” he said, moving his lips to my ear. “I definitely think you could use a spanking.”