He ruffles my hair and gives me a half smile. “Looks like you’re the last one to figure that out…again.”

Chapter 21

RUN, TEAM, RUN

Pick up the phone. Put it down. Pick it up. Dial Jake’s number. Put it down.

He doesn’t need me to call and check up on him. I have Rampage’s text telling me the two miscreants were bruised and battered but neither of them needed a hospital visit. Still, after Rampage’s comment in the parking lot, I want to call.

I pick up the phone. Dial. Hit SEND.

My heart pounds. His phone rings. And rings. And rings. Then it goes to voice mail. I hang up. A fitting end to a horrible day.

Twenty minutes later, I’m changed and cozy in my bed. Head on the pillow. Covers tucked up to the chin. A soft breeze blows the curtains in the window, caressing my cheek like the touch of Jake’s lips. I close my eyes and imagine his kiss at Redemption, the taste of his lips, the scent of his soap, the rough fabric of his gi. My br**sts swell and my panties dampen. Need coils tight in my belly. I slide my hand down my body, between the valley of my br**sts and over my abdomen. And suddenly it is Jake’s hand resting on my mound, his fingers sliding over my aching clit, his voice in my ear.

The phone rings. Half asleep, my body soft and heavy in the darkness, caught up in my fantasy, I answer it, knowing in the back of my mind it has to be him.

“Amanda.”

“Jake.” My voice is a breathy whisper of need. “I just…called to see if you were okay.”

His voice drops to a low, husky growl. “Gimme a sec. I’m just gonna close the office door.”

A thump. A slam. Another thump. A squeak. The rustle of clothes. My heart drums against my ribs. One last chance to hang up the phone. One last chance.

“Why are you at the office so late?”

His deep voice is a delicious murmur in my ear. “I was just about to leave. We had an emergency board meeting about another offer for the company. This one with a deadline. Usually I just tell them where to go with the offers because that’s what my dad wanted me to do, but tonight…” He sighs. “What I did in the parking lot was just stupid. Made me think about what you’d said about not treating every confrontation like I’m in the ring. I decided to listen to the board about the offer this time so I could discuss it with my father and maybe convince him selling is actually the best thing for everyone. ”

My hand slides into my panties as he talks in his delicious, deep voice, telling me about the board and how relieved they were that he’d finally decided to hear them out—girly panties, sexy panties. Jake loved my panties. He would love these.

The ache in my center becomes an ache in my heart. Emptiness claws at my chest, a dark void needing to be filled. As familiar as the scars on my knees from the day I tried to teach myself to ride a bicycle. I have spent a lifetime trying to fill it, poured in caresses and kisses and fumbles in the dark, sweaty hands on my body, cocks and toys and kinks and perversions. But it hungers still.

I know only one way to make the ache go away. Throwing back the covers, I lie back and with a soft gasp, I sink two fingers into my wet, swollen center. Alone in the dark, I imagine Jake is here, touching me, caressing me, and then deep inside me, showing me he cares with actions I understand, not words that confuse me.

A soft moan escapes my lips. Immediately, I slam my lips shut, but I’m not fast enough.

“God, baby. I know that sound. Talk to me.” Thick with desire, his voice alone almost sets me off.

Mortification at being caught gives way to longing and desire, hope, and the fact I have nothing left to lose. My back arches as my finger spreads my wetness up and around my sweet spot, close but never touching, drawing out the pleasure. I breathe into the phone, short, panting breaths of need. “Panties, pink, silk, ruffles on the edges. Soft. Wet.”

“Take them off.”

My body flames as if his words lit a spark inside me. I furrow my brow. Dampen the heat. My game. My rules. My pace.

“Not yet.”

“Now.”

I suck in a sharp breath, my body quivering at the unyielding tone in his voice. Maybe this is why I called.

Betraying fingers drop to my hips, easing inside the elastic. I tell myself I am taking off my panties because I want to do it. And I want it now.

“Okay.”

“And the covers.”

“They’re already on the floor.”

“You were hot for me already, weren’t you, baby?” My heart squeezes in my chest. Was Rampage right after all?

Goose bumps scatter across my body as the cool air dances over my heated skin, bringing with it the lush, heady scent of honeysuckle from the garden. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Were you touching yourself when I was talking to you?”

My body trembles in horrified anticipation. For all the crazy things I’ve done, my own private pleasure has always been that…private.

“Amanda…”

Breath catching at his warning tone, I whisper, “Yes.”

He groans softly and then his chair squeaks. Feet thump. I hear the click of a lock and then the rustle of clothing. Flesh slides over flesh and his breathing changes from smooth and controlled to rough and uneven. “Touch yourself now.”

Oh God. My blood rushes downward, filling tissues, flaring nerve endings, until my sex throbs and my core aches. I slick my fingers through my folds and then up and around my clit, then down to dip into my core, the sensation so exquisite I moan.