Tempting Sydney (8 page)

I hadn’t been threatened with a spanking since I was a toddler. The proposition shocked me so much, I didn’t realize I was still holding the bottle of cleaner and squeezed it. Hard. Liquid exploded out the top like the cleaner bottle was going through an embarrassing bit of puberty. It hit Jax directly on the lower stomach, and immediately started dripping down onto his pants. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” I was mortified as I grabbed more paper towels and started trying to mop up the mess, though I was careful to avoid his crotch area…an area that seemed to be growing larger despite the cold cleaner and crisp air.

Jax laughed and grabbed my hand, stilling it. He held my eyes. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my apartment. I need to change.”

I wasn’t sure why I needed to go along. I was pretty sure he was well versed in all skills related to clothing removal—his, and women’s. But I was the reason for the clothes situation, and felt like I should probably tag along since I’d caused the mess and he’d asked me to.

We walked across the street and down the block. I’d wondered why I’d never seen his car. Now it made sense. I usually only saw him when he was at Red’s, and he didn’t need to drive when he lived this close to work. His apartment was part of a new duplex. The outside was a combination of grey brick and stucco. There were only three steps to get to his front door. I waited behind him while he opened it and motioned me inside. His apartment was modern and clean. Two toned walls in neutral beige and brown, with matching light brown carpet. Grey and blue slate tile in the kitchen complimented the stainless steel appliances. A flat screen TV hung above the fireplace. The couch was black leather. I thought of how much easier leather was to clean, then immediately thought of the naked girls who had probably been on it and frowned. I made a mental note not to sit on any of his furniture.

“Come on back.” He motioned for me to follow him.

I watched him walk down the hall. I took several beats to decide whether or not to follow him, but my curiosity finally got the best of me. I stopped before I came to the room he’d walked in. The door was wide open and he was standing next to his huge black sleigh bed with matching nightstands and dresser, stripping off his workout shirt as he toed off his shoes onto the carpeted floor. My eyes were huge, and I quickly looked away. Not that I wanted to, but because it seemed like the right thing to do…and I wasn’t sure if I could keep the desire off my face if I maintained him in my line of sight.

He started to laugh. “I didn’t realize you were shy.”

Now I’d been challenged. I wasn’t good at backing down. It was a problem. My eyes shot up past his ripped stomach, and held his gaze. His lips formed a half smile in acceptance of my challenge, and then he moved his hands down to his waist. He held my eyes as he untied the string on his pants, then slowly slid his index fingers under the waistband and pushed. As I heard the fabric drop to the floor, I did my best not to gulp—or look down. But I was tempted. Very,
very
tempted.

“Are you afraid to look, Syd?”

I pressed my lips into a thin line. I wasn’t shy, and I wasn’t a chicken. Plus, I felt like he’d just issued me another dare. Dares are my weakness. Tell me I can’t do something, and I’ll do it every time just to spite the person who said I couldn’t.

I crossed my arms over my chest, and held his gaze for a split second longer just to let him know that I wasn’t going to give in. Then I let my eyes trail slowly down his body. I got stuck on his abs for a few seconds, but eventually hit his waist. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized he wasn’t birthday-suit ready. He was wearing black athletic shorts that hung to his knees. A band of grey—boxers or briefs?—peeked out under his shorts. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved at his lack of nudity, or disappointed…I was a little of both.

Still, he was half-naked—shorts and socks were all that remained. And he was sooooo freaking hot! He had the body of someone who spent all their free time running Spartan Races. Every part of him was toned, sculpted, and huge—Every. Single. Part. I had to mentally slap myself to force my eyes away from the lower half of his body. On a scale of one to five, I was at drool-threat level six. The important thing was to not let him know that, though. Better-than-a-werewolf had a big enough ego as it was. “Boxers, huh?” I said, taking a guess at his underwear preference.

He raised a brow. “How do you know I’m wearing anything at all?”

I raised mine back. “You go commando often?”

He slid his index fingers between the cloth of his shorts and his tight, toned skin. He started to tug down. “Wanna find out?”

The devil on my left shoulder was screaming: Yes, please! Luckily, the angel on my right shoulder was exceedingly boring with far more sense. The angel reasoned that if seeing Jax fully clothed made me want to hump him like a bunny and to hell with graduating at the top of my class, then seeing Jax naked would be trouble. Lots and
lots
of trouble. I agreed. “I’m good, thanks.” I pointed to his waist. “Plus, you’re not hiding it very well.”

He looked down, noticing how much of his underclothes he was already showing me, and flashed an unapologetic grin. He watched me for several moments before leaning against his bed. “How many men have you been with, Syd?”

I felt like I’d just been hit with verbal whiplash—again. It seemed to happen frequently with Jax. “Excuse me?” I said, completely affronted.

He reached down to pick up his socks on the floor and throw them into the square laundry basket next to the wall. I was so pissed, I didn’t even really notice how the muscles in his arms, shoulders, back and abs moved with tightly honed, perfect fluidity. Really. I didn’t. “Come on,” he said, straightening back up. “I’ll tell you my number; you tell me yours.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? Embarrassed?”

“No! But the only way that would be your business is if we were in relationship. We’re not. So screw you.”

“We could be.”

I blinked in shock. “No!” A relationship? We hadn’t even been on a date, what was he talking about? Though the thought sent a flutter through my stomach that met the flutter already percolating a bit lower thanks to Jax’s lack of clothes. “We couldn’t do that,” I said, flushed and off-kilter. I was not prepared for this decision yet.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not ready for a relationship right now. And from what I can tell, neither are you.”

He eyed me. “I guess it depends on what your definition of ‘relationship’ is.”

“Mutual love, respect, and quality time. Passion, friendship, intimacy, common interests. Caring about each other, being there for one another. I thought those were all pretty common relationship themes.”

“Every relationship is different. Some people just want to have fun.”

“I’m guessing that’s you.”

“If you go into it with expectations already set, no one gets hurt.”

I snorted. “Right. I’m sure you have a lot of experience with this. Maybe you can shut your emotions off and screw anything that moves, but I can’t.”

His eyes hardened ever so slightly. “I didn’t say that was
my
definition. I said it was
a
definition. You wouldn’t even answer my question about how many men you’ve been with. You’re uncomfortable with the thought of opening up and relying on someone else. It seems like you’re the one who can’t handle a relationship—by
any
definition.”

My brows came together in an angry line. “I really don’t think you know me well enough to make that call.”

He shrugged. “I know your type.”

I was about to tell him off again, but he dropped his shorts and my witty comeback was lost. My mouth fell open and I stared.

He smirked. “Never seen a mostly naked man before, huh? Guess that doesn’t say much for your previous boyfriends.”

The jab brought me back to my senses enough to stop staring at the huge bulge confronting me. He wasn’t completely naked, but he was close. The only thing delineating him from being a living version of the Statue of David was his gray boxer briefs. I refused to acknowledge that thought further. “Don’t be dumb. Of course I have.”

“On TV?” he asked, his tone infuriating.

“Screw you.”

He walked toward me, pushing into my personal space, getting closer and closer. “Be careful, sweetheart. One of these times, I might take you up on that offer.”

My mouth fell open. It was at that very moment my phone rang…which was strange. Not many people actually used the phone to talk any more. I was used to texts instead. I took a step away from Jax’s danger zone, and turned my back toward the very tangible temptation that stood a few strides from me. I looked at the phone. Brynn’s name was on the display. “Hey, is something wrong?”

“No, I just need you to come to a bar with me tonight.”

“That’s the emergency that warranted a phone call? A demand to meet you at a bar? I thought something was wrong with you! You could have just texted me!”
I was in the middle of something!,
I wanted to scream.
Something super important!
The image of Jax in nothing but a tiny piece of cotton covering a massive piece of man was making me breathless.

“No! I need to give your name to the guys so they can get us into the VIP section. I had to make sure you were coming with me first.”

I sighed. “Where?”

“Edge. It’s the new, all glass building on Third.”

“Well, I seriously doubt anything Edgy is going to be happening if the building is all glass.”

I could feel her rolling her eyes. “You need a better imagination.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. “What time?”

“Nine. And don’t be late! I’ll meet you there.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you then.”

I turned back around and caught my breath. Jax was in the exact same position as when I’d moved, and he was still watching me. Judging by his intent stare, I got the impression he’d been watching me through the whole conversation. I couldn’t tell if he was interested in the discussion, or annoyed. “You have a date?”

I snorted. “Or something.”

He waited, and the awkward moment got even more awkward, prompting me to keep talking and give way more information than I should have. “I just get dragged to parties, bars, and anywhere else Brynn wants to go because she loves being social.”

He watched me. “You don’t love it, though. So why do you go?” He always seemed so interested in my answers that it sometimes made me feel like everything I said was being dissected. Now was no different.

“Because I don’t want her to go alone. She needs someone to watch her back.”

He folded his arms across his chest, drawing my eye to his massive pecs, which was good so I had something else massive to focus on that wasn’t in the same vicinity of his crotch. “And who watches yours?”

I lifted one shoulder. “Mine doesn’t need watching.” I pulled my keys from my pocket. “Looks like you’ve got everything under control here.” I gestured to him and his lack of attire. “Thanks for the show. I’ll see you next time I need an oil change.”

I immediately winced at my choice of words.

He grinned and held my eyes like he was trying to decide his next move. I knew mine, though, and it was out the door, far away from this volatile situation that wasn’t at all helped by my hormones. “Sorry for squirting you.” I winced again, then recovered with, “thanks for showing me your place.” I waved as I speed-walked out of the room and back down the hall.

I got to the front door before I heard, “Syd.”

I turned.

He was leaning out of his bedroom, hands braced on the top of the doorway, abs just as tempting as they’d been a few minutes before. “Be careful tonight.”

I nodded. “Thanks. You, too...” I shut the door behind me, then practically hyperventilated on his porch before I made it back down the street to Red’s parking lot, and She-Ra.

I hated bars. And clubs. With a passion. The music is loud enough to recalibrate your heartbeat, and you can hardly hear yourself think, let alone try to carry on a conversation with another person. Everyone judges you completely on appearance, and they’re all there for a meaningless hookup. I wasn’t interested. But Brynn was. And she was well on her way.

“Karl thinks you’re hot,” she said. Her mouth was pressed directly against my ear. It was the only way to hear her. The VIP section was slightly quieter than the regular dance floor, but really, the only luxury it afforded was a guaranteed place to sit, and faster drink service; also, the experience of being behind a rope that proved you were more important than ninety-eight percent of the people there. It seemed silly and stupid to me.

I turned and put my lips practically in her ear. “Karl’s been feeling up every girl who walks by. And the girls don’t seem happy about it. Karl’s a douche. Why are we here again?”

Brynn looked over at the tall, tan guy with the face of a movie-star sitting across from her. His lips formed a slow, cocky smile as he ran a hand through his shaggy, shiny locks. Brynn’s eyes immediately went starry. “Because Derrick is freaking hot!”