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Juicy. Noelle Mack
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“Female division,” Jaz whispered to her. “He loves a good cat fight.”
“Sweet. So I guess he’s not going to tattle about you and me, huh?”
Jaz grinned broadly. “Guess not. We haven’t been doing anything to tattle about.” He used the key remote to pop the trunk and stow her carry-on bag and laptop before he opened her door for her.
She settled in, providing him with a peek at her upper thighs as she shifted in the seat. Might as well make the most of the magic. It wasn’t likely to last. “Thanks. You’re a gentleman.”
“My mama raised me right.”
Even though she was teasing him, she still loved the attention and his old-fashioned courtesy. Bliss had dated one too many loudmouthed rejects from the Planet of the Frat Boys not to appreciate it.
The restaurant in town served exactly what she expected: plain but tasty home cooking. On Jaz’s recommendation, she ordered steak, like him, but the side dishes came first. She put a pat of butter at the top of her mashed-potato volcano and watched it melt and trickle down the sides, then ate the whole damn thing in big bites, which made him smile.
“Good, huh?”
“Mashed potatoes are the best.”
“How about a bottle of wine?”
“Sure.”
He ordered one for them to share and there was a rosy glow on her face by the end of the excellent meal.
“So where are you from?” he asked, not looking at the check the waitress brought. “You never did say.”
Evidently he didn’t want their time together to end. Bliss was pleased.
“I grew up in a small town in upstate New York. Thurbeck. You probably never heard of it.”
“Is it famous for anything?”
She thought for a few seconds. “Strawberry pie, come to think of it. Mary Donovan ran the diner and made them every summer but only when strawberries were in season. Three dollars a slice, which was big money in Thurbeck. But people were happy to pay it. It was amazing pie.”
Jaz nodded thoughtfully and folded his arms on the cleared table. “What was the secret?”
“Really good strawberries. She grew her own.”
He shrugged. “Lots of people do. She had to have a secret ingredient. Maybe something we could add to HT pies.”
Bliss only laughed. “Love. Those strawberries knew they were special.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Mary’s husband fenced in the patch and slept on the porch with a shotgun to keep the raccoons away. He fired it off into the sky a few times a night.”
“Hmm. Maybe the strawberries were just afraid. But love is good. And the FDA doesn’t make you add it to the nutrition breakdown on the package.”
The waitress came over with a coffeepot and two mugs in the other hand, and gave Jaz an inquiring look. He shook his head and pulled out his wallet, leaving two twenties and rising when Bliss did. He gestured for her to go ahead of him. “After you, Miss Bliss.”
“Thanks for dinner.” She picked up a mint from the bowl by the cash register and tucked it into her cheek. “That was fun.”
“I enjoyed myself too. And oh—one more question. How did you get that name, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“My real name is Melissa. My baby brother couldn’t pronounce it and so after a while everybody called me Bliss, just like he did.”
She sauntered ahead, going out the double doors and savoring the last blast of air-conditioning. Rural Pennsylvania was cooler than New York but it was still muggy outside.
Jaz handled everything involved with checking in at the B&B, while Bliss did a little exploring. She would be staying in a tiny cottage apart from the main house but identical to it in every architectural detail. She stepped carefully on the mossy bricks of the path that led to the front door, under an arbor draped in June roses in full bloom, and heard Jaz’s quick footsteps behind her.
“Hey, this is great.”
“Told you.” He handed her the key. Bliss slid it in the lock and swung the door open, instantly charmed by the simplicity of the décor and its airy color scheme.
Jaz set her carry-on bag and laptop on an armchair and put his hands on his hips, looking a little awkward.
Make that big and strong and sexy and a little awkward, she thought happily. He looked like he was waiting for her to make the next move. His gaze was fixed on her as she drifted around the room, making small talk, fiddling with the drapes, knowing that she had changed her mind about fooling around with him. Might be the wine. Maybe it was him. But she could. Just for one night.
Bliss turned and walked boldly up to him and his arms went around her waist in an instant. He opened his mouth in surprise, then leaned down and kissed her eagerly.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmured when he stopped.
“Why not?” he asked, and kissed her again.
She broke it off. “What if my boss finds out? There will be consequences.” Even though Vi had practically egged her on.
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Bliss knew he meant Vi, but she thought again of Dora’s appraising look. What did it mean and did she care? Hell no. Not right now. Bliss wriggled against Jaz, and skipped the rest of the question-and-answer for a hot five minutes of luxurious rubbing up against him and being kissed some more. He stroked her back and her hips, pulling her closer until she could feel the awesome erection swelling inside his pants.
Let the rationalizations begin, she thought. “This is just for tonight, Jaz. Only once. Over and out.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
Bliss smiled. As if a man with a huge hard-on and sexually hungry eyes was going to argue with her. She reached for his tie, pushing the expensive silk up through the Windsor knot and working it loose with one finger. He slid the unfastened tie through his collar and flung it aside.
She moved on to the first three buttons of his shirt. Bliss planted a kiss on the bare skin just under his collarbone, inhaling his warmly male scent with a slight but happy sigh.
She undid the remaining buttons one by one, stroking the light fur on his chest and the tapering trail that disappeared beneath his belt buckle.
His belly was tense and flat, as muscular as the rest of him, but she could feel him tremble ever so slightly at her touch. Then Jaz yanked the shirt tails out of his pants with Superman speed and bared his chest to her exploring hands. She traced a finger over one taut nipple and then the other, and he shuddered with pleasure.
He kissed the top of her head, running his hand through her dark brown hair with sensual abandon. “Ready to get messed up, Bliss?”
“I’m ready.” But she tipped her face up to his, craving another kiss before they went any further.
He obliged. Then he raised her skirt, put his big hands under her butt cheeks, and lifted her up, holding her with ease. Bliss let out a little yelp and clung to him, clasping him around the waist with her thighs. Her short skirt provided no coverage—and neither did her thong underwear—but there was nothing she could do about it now. Anyway, she didn’t want to.
Being shameless felt good. Amazingly good. She wasn’t drunk and she wasn’t desperate—she just really wanted this man. And he wanted her.
Holding her carefully, he walked her over to the mirror to admire the treasure he had in his hands, even spreading