A Little Bit Naughty (8 page)

Jada rubbed her temples and let out a groan. “God, when did I become this whiny complainer? I hate complainers.” She shook her head and huffed out a humorless laugh. “I just don’t know how I ended up here. I was living the fairytale. Married to my high school sweetheart, living in one of the biggest houses in town, working at a great job. And then…poof. It all came crashing down.”

“But you’re still here,” Mason pointed out. He reached over and tucked a lock of wavy hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger. Could her skin be any softer? “You realize that what you’ve been through this past year would break some people, don’t you, Jada? But you’ve managed to it keep it together. Well, other than that little bonfire incident Kiera told me about,” he added with a grin.

She winced and dropped her head to her knees again.

“All joking aside, you should be proud of the way you’ve handled this. Despite the blows you’ve taken, you’re still standing.”

“I guess you’re right,” she muttered. “I’m alone and unemployed, but at least I’m still standing.”

“But you’re not unemployed. What about this new…what did you call it? Consulting business?”

She shrugged. “That’s just a side gig to tide me over until I can find a real job.” She glanced up at him, a wry grin tilting her lips. “Maplesville isn’t all that big. I’ll eventually run out of people to sell G-Swirl Vibrators to.”

Relief flowed through him at the sight of the humor sparkling in her eyes again. Sadness still echoed in her subdued voice, but Mason sensed she’d broken through a threshold tonight. The pleasure he derived from knowing that he’d played a role in helping her get to this point was intoxicating.

Just one more reason why he should get the hell out of here.

His work was done. In fact, he’d accomplished more than he’d set out to. He’d provided a shoulder for her to cry on, an understanding ear to listen to her list of problems.

But he didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to sit right here for as long as she would allow. So, in a move that was astoundingly contradictory to his usual mode of operation, Mason put a muzzle on the voice of reason resonating in his head and encouraged Jada to keep talking.

“How’s the job search going?” he asked.

“Well, I’m still unemployed, which should give you some indication.” She told him about a public relations position she’d applied for that she considered her ideal job. “It’s with this organization that oversees several non-profits around the New Orleans metro area. I would love to work for a company that actually does some good in the world.”

“What’s the organization?” Mason asked, hoping she would name one in particular.

“The Fortier Foundation,” she answered.

That was the one.

Mason had to stop himself from smiling. Maybe he
could
help solve one of the issues plaguing her. He made a mental note to make a call tomorrow.

“The job market is pretty competitive, so I’m not holding my breath,” Jada continued. “I’m just grateful to have the Naughty Nights parties providing some income.”

“How did you get into throwing these parties anyway?” Mason asked, settling back on the sofa and draping an arm across the top of it.

“I saw an advertisement in one of those Internet pop-up ads.”

He tipped his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “Exactly what were you looking at in order to get that kind of pop-up?”

Her forehead furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just thinking about the way Internet advertising works. Your web browser stores cookies based on the various websites you visit, and use that info to target their ads. So, what kind of websites were you looking at in order to get pop-up advertising for erotic toys?”

Her mouth opened and closed as her light brown cheeks instantly reddened. She groaned, burying her face in her hands.

A laughed rumbled from deep in his belly.

“Oh, shut up, Mason,” she mumbled from behind her hands.

“God, you’re adorable.”

She spread her fingers, peeking at him through the openings. “You just called me adorable.”

“Because you are,” he murmured, narrowing the distance between them. Mason halted for just a moment, giving her the chance to object.

She didn’t. She just stared at his lips, her chest rising and falling softly with her measured breaths.

Mason leaned forward, finally touching his lips to hers.

That first touch was everything he’d expected, yet more than he could have ever imagined. Her mouth was soft, and pliant, and so damn delicious it was like a decadent dessert at the end of a fine meal. Mason traced his tongue along the seam of her lips, concentrating on every nuance: the bow shape that dipped in the center, the subtle poutiness of her bottom lip, and the incredible, velvety feel of them as she yielded to his kiss.

Her lips parted slightly, and he took full advantage, licking his way into her mouth, plying her with firm, deliberate strokes. He caressed the inside of her mouth, acquiring knowledge of every corner, relishing its taste and texture. Mason’s skin prickled with want as he cradled the back of her head and held her in place while his tongue advanced and retreated, gently thrusting, steadily devouring.

Jada’s tongue took a tentative surge forward, wringing a groan from deep in his throat.

His body reacted predictably to the feel of her supple, exquisite lips against his, the organ in his lap burgeoning with arousal. His skin grew tight; his muscles tensing with the flood of need coursing through him. His fingers massaged the back of her head as his other hand crept up her side. He hesitated for just a moment before covering her breast with his palm.

A tortured moan tore out of Mason’s throat as the feel of her rock hard nipple branded his palm. He squeezed and rubbed her breast, committing the sensation to memory.

This had been a fantasy for far too long. He’d dreamed of what Jada would taste like, how it would feel to touch her like this. It was everything he’d imagined and more.

And, God, how he wanted more.

Which was why he needed to stop.

Her emotions were still raw, all of her vulnerabilities still too exposed. He refused to go any further knowing that she was at a disadvantage.

Mason indulged in one final sweep of her mouth, then immediately decided it wasn’t enough and stroked his tongue again, savoring every drop of her flavor just in case this was the one and only time he would get to experience it. With the strength of will one called upon only once in a lifetime, he forced himself to pull away. His tongue instantly regretted the absence of the moist warmth it had been enjoying a second ago.

Jada’s eyes slowly open. They were a bit dazed, as if she wasn’t sure what had just happened.

He knew exactly what had happened, and damn if he wasn’t seconds from begging her to let it happen again. Mason braced his hands on his thighs and pushed himself up, the need to escape temptation reluctant, but necessary.

“I should go,” he said. “Will you lock the door behind me?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around her knees again. “I’ll get it in a minute,” she said.

Mason stopped with his hand on the doorknob and glanced back at her. “Will you be okay?”

Another nod. “I will,” she said, her voice thready. “Mason,” she called when he opened the door. He looked back. “Thank you for not really hating me all these years.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome. Good night, Jada,” he said before shutting the door behind him.

Once in his car, Mason strapped himself into his seat and turned over the ignition. He gripped the steering wheel, glancing at the time illuminated on the dash. It was nearly eleven p.m. Still, he let his car idle for another ten minutes while he stared at Jada’s second-floor apartment and tried to convince himself not to walk back up there and knock on her door.

Chapter Five

Reclining in his desk chair, Mason flipped through the ledger that had been delivered by special courier this morning. He had an afternoon meeting scheduled with the CFO of Marshall Construction, the first client he’d landed when he began working at Olivier, Broussard and Polk fresh out of law school.

It was a good thing he knew Marshall’s finances inside and out, because his concentration was for shit today.

Mason tossed the ledger on the desk, swiveled his chair around, and stared at the view of the Mississippi River afforded by his office’s floor-to-ceiling windows. He tapped a capped pen against his lips, his eyes drawn to a line of colorful barges drifting along the calm water.

As he absently observed the lazy river traffic, Mason allowed his mind to fully embrace the memory of last night, when he’d captured Jada’s lips in the kind of kiss that could distract a normally focused workaholic from focusing on anything else.

If he hadn’t put an end to their kiss, he had no doubt they would have ended up naked on her tiny couch. He and Jada. Naked. Together.

Shit
. He wanted that so badly his skin tightened just at the thought.

He’d done the right thing in leaving. The morally-sound, gentlemanly part of him knew that taking advantage of her weakened defenses would have been wrong. But there was another part that wanted to say to hell with being a gentleman; the part that was dying to finally fulfill all the fantasies he’d indulged in over the years.

“Thank goodness you didn’t,” Mason murmured to himself. Exploiting her vulnerability would have made him no better than that piece of shit she’d been married to.

Just thinking about Eric and the way Jada cried over him last night made Mason want to pummel the wall with his fist, the way he’d pummeled Eric’s face back when they were kids. He’d left out of a sense of integrity last night, but he realized that nothing he did or didn’t do could ever be as bad as what Eric had done to her. Eric had broken her spirit, and Mason was all too willing to help her mend it back together.

But who’s to say Jada would even welcome his help in moving past her ex?

He may have secretly wanted her all these years, but it was obvious she’d had no clue, which meant her decade-long dislike of him had been real. Was it even worth the effort to try and convince her that they should bury the animosity that had always existed between them?

He ran his hands down his face as he pitched his head back against the chair’s leather headrest.

He had no idea how, or even
if
, he should try to move forward with Jada. Maybe there
was
no moving forward. Maybe last night was all he would ever get. Maybe that one amazing kiss would have to last him a lifetime.

Whether Jada chose to acknowledge what had passed between them last night or not, Mason knew there was one thing he still wanted to do for her. He reached for his phone and scrolled through the names until he found Selena Pareja. He dialed it and was informed by an automated recording that the number was no longer in service.

Damn, had it been
that
long since he’d called?

He Googled The Fortier Foundation and dialed the number. He asked to speak to Selena, and was put through moments after he told the receptionist his name.

“Mason Coleman,” Selena’s smooth voice came over the line. “It’s been a while.”

“Apparently,” he said. “I tried you on your cell, but the number’s changed.”

“I lost my phone last year while in Tokyo. I didn’t bother sending you the new number since you hadn’t called in a while.” Mason knew her pregnant pause was by design. “So, to what do I owe this call?”

If this were anyone else Mason would hesitate before asking for a favor for another woman, but Selena was like him, a professional. She wouldn’t allow hurt feelings to get in the way of business.

What was he talking about? Selena wouldn’t allow hurt feelings, period.

He told her about Jada, sharing what he knew of her years at the oil refinery where she’d worked as a PR representative, and about her enthusiasm for the job with Selena’s organization.

“She’s very interested in the work The Fortier Foundation is doing,” he said.

“Mason, you are the only man bold enough to ask his ex-girlfriend to hire his current girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, just a longtime friend of my sister’s,” he said. “And I’m calling because I know she would be perfect for the job. I’m not saying you have to hire her—”

“Because you know I won’t hire her if she’s not qualified.”

“She is,” he said. “But I’m just asking that you pay close attention to her résumé. If I were you I’d call her in for an interview sooner rather than later. I have no doubt she’ll be snatched up by an employer soon.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Selena said. After another pause she added, “I won’t bother asking you to dinner because I know you’re a one-woman man. And, despite your denial, I know this Jada has to be more than just a friend. You wouldn’t stick your neck out otherwise. I’ll talk to you later, Mason.”

Once he’d disconnected the call, Mason tapped the phone against his lips, contemplating Selena’s words. Just a week ago, Jada would not have fallen under the classification of friend. To consider her
more
than a friend?

“Stop making a big deal out of it,” he muttered. It wasn’t as if he’d gone out of his way; he’d made a simple call.

Mason set the cell phone on his desk and returned to the ledger he’d been reviewing. A minute later, his desk phone buzzed.

“Mr. Coleman, it’s Dudley Cook,” his assistant announced through the speaker.

Mason’s eyelids slid shut against the headache that instantly sprouted behind his eyes. He was not in the mood for dealing with Oscar Davis’s cutthroat CPA today.

“Mr. Cook,” Mason answered.

“What’s the word on Vanuatu?” the other man asked.

“Dudley, I already explained the risk of setting up a tax haven in Vanuatu.”

“And I told you that Mr. Davis is willing to take the risk. I asked you to look into Seychelles, also. Have you made any progress on that?”

“Seychelles has the same risk as Vanuatu.”

As Cook went on a rant, Mason picked up the stress ball Kiera had given him as a gag gift for his birthday last year, and clutched it in his fist. Lately, he used the stress ball more than the tennis racket she’d intended as his real gift.