How Hard Can It Be? (26 page)
I went back to Shoshanna’s and had a two-hour conversation with cardboard Brett Favre. He was very nice about my dumping all my issues on him and didn’t seem to be the least bit offended by my colorful language. I thought I might ask Shoshanna if I could take him to Iowa.
Waiting to go to the Viper’s to get the proof was killing me. I was loving life so much, I almost called Jack . . . almost.
At eight o’clock, I picked up the folder. It was thick. I drove right back to Shoshanna’s and started reading. And oh boy, it was some heavy reading. At three in the morning, I closed the folder . . . Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day.
Chapter 31
I
hadn’t been back to my apartment building since I’d moved out. My trembling hands and somersaulting insides were proof enough that I should stay away from Jack, but I wanted to give him something. Kristy was fairly sure he had gone to work, but he hadn’t knocked at our door this morning. My busted heart broke a little more at that news.
hadn’t been back to my apartment building since I’d moved out. My trembling hands and somersaulting insides were proof enough that I should stay away from Jack, but I wanted to give him something. Kristy was fairly sure he had gone to work, but he hadn’t knocked at our door this morning. My busted heart broke a little more at that news.
I pressed my ear against his door and listened. No noise. Thank you, Jesus. I got down on my hands and knees and tried to shove an envelope underneath. A tiny part of me was disappointed he wasn’t home . . . all right, a huge part of me, but it was better this way.
“Dang it,” I said, trying to push it under the sealed door. Peeling up the rubber to make room for the envelope wasn’t working. The only success I had was breaking two of my already short fingernails. Failure was not acceptable. I considered taping it to the door, but this envelope could not fall into the wrong hands. I dug through my purse looking for something that could cut the rubber enough to make room for my delivery . . . gum, hand cream, lip gloss, phone, wallet, tampons. Ah ha, the butter knife I’d borrowed from the diner last week because Shoshanna didn’t have any. I knew what she was getting from me next Christmas.
I wedged the knife under the door and tried to peel the rubber back. The knife bent in half. Shit, what in the hell did they make this crap with? Tinfoil? I sat back on my butt and tried to figure out what to do. I had about two hours before I needed to implement the next part of my plan. There had to be a way to make this work. I rammed the misshapen knife into the rubber and started sawing. I put all my weight behind it and went to town. This might actually. . .
“Rena?” Jack asked, opening the door.
I tumbled into Jack’s apartment, landing at his running-shoe-clad feet. Fuckity, fuck, fuck. “I have something I need to give you,” I said with faint hysteria in my voice. I was still on my hands and knees at his feet. This was so not happening.
“Okay,” he said, squatting down to my level. “And you figured carving out a hole in my door would be a good way to deliver it?”
“Um, yes. Yes, I did.” So much for the I’m-not-crazy campaign.
“I’ve been trying to find you,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet.
Son of a bitch, he was gorgeous. It wasn’t fair. His legs were covered in tight winter running pants and his black long-sleeved running shirt hugged every muscular inch of his upper body. I was tongue-tied and stared at him openmouthed. At least I’d dressed with care, on the outside, outside chance I would run into him. He took in my Captain Crunch T-shirt, and a sexy grin split his face. My knees went weak and my heart ping-ponged around my chest.
“Here.” I handed him the envelope, shocked that any words came out.
“What’s this? A restraining order?” He smiled, slipping around me to close, lock, chain, and double bolt his front door. My insides clenched in excitement at the thought of him forcing me against my will to do all kinds of things with him. Of course force would have nothing to do with it . . . me and my inner slut would do anything he wanted. Anything. Happily. As many times as he wanted. In fact, I could probably come up with a few interesting new positions to try . . .
I backed away before I slammed him against the wall and played tonsil hockey with him. “No, it’s something I think you need.”
He carelessly tossed the envelope onto the table next to his door. “The only thing I need is you,” he said in a husky voice that made me tingle all over.
“Jack, I . . .”
“No, Rena, listen to me. I am so sorry. I was wrong not to believe you. I was an asshole and a jerk and I said some awful things.” He moved toward me and put his big strong hands on my upper arms, sending jolts of electricity through me and straight to my panties. “My life just sucks without you.”
His hands were warm and I knew he meant what he said, but . . . “Jack, it will happen again.”
“God, I hope not.” He winced, clearly reliving his evening with the eighty-year-old silicone knockers. “Wait,” he stammered, having no idea I knew what he was referring to. “I don’t mean you. I mean, um . . .”
“I know what you mean,” I said.
“No, you don’t.” He grimaced.
“Unfortunately, I do. I was hiding in the curtains,” I admitted guiltily.
“Oh my God,” he laughed, then shuddered with disgust. “I’m almost glad someone can verify that actually happened. Why were you in the curtains?”
“I was about to leave and I heard your voices and I didn’t want to see you or for you to see me. I tried to hide behind a naked fornicator statue, but it wasn’t big enough, so I dove behind the curtains and then I . . .” I petered off, realizing how insane I sounded. This was exactly why it wouldn’t work. I straightened my spine and slipped out of his arms. “Jack,” I said in my best accountant’s voice, “I think you’ll be extremely interested in the contents of the envelope. I hope your life goes very well and I’m sure someday we can be friends. I have other errands to run and I’m moving to Iowa with Cardboard Brett Favre in two weeks, so, um . . .”
“Rena, what can I do to make you give me another chance?”
I was caught off guard by the urgency in his voice. “I don’t . . .”
“I’ll let you look at my giraffe and even make fun of it,” he offered, taking off his shirt.
“You will?” I giggled. An express shuttle of excitement tore through my body straight to my lady bits at the sight of his naked chest. “You’re not playing fair,” I said in a voice that belonged in a porno.
“Nope,” he agreed. “I’m not.” He pushed his hands into the waistband of his running pants and slowly eased them down his legs.
Oh. My. God. My mouth went dry and my inner slut fought me for control.
“I will resort to anything to get you back,” he said sexily.
“I will not have sex with you,” I said, pulling my own shirt over my head.
“Okay,” he said, unbuttoning my jeans and sliding them down my legs. “No sex. I got it. Anything else?”
“Um, yes.” I felt like a breathless teenager. “I won’t date you. I’m going to find a strapping farm man in Iowa and Cardboard Brett Favre is pretty damn hot,” I said, quickly removing my bra.
His eyes raked my body hungrily. “I thought Brett Favre was married.”
“Cardboard Brett Favre is single,” I gasped as he removed my panties. His slightly callused hands ran slowly up my legs, firmly planting themselves on my bare ass. Thank Sweet Baby Jesus, I’d shaved my legs this morning.
I felt a little dizzy. My nipples were so hard they hurt, my heart was lodged in my throat, and the moisture pooling between my legs needed attention immediately.
“So my getting into your pants doesn’t mean you forgive me?” he asked, leaving my ass behind and running his thumbs over my nipples.
“I’m not wearing any pants.” I arched my back to give him more of my aching breasts. “And there’s nothing to forgive. You were right, I’m crazy,” I gasped as his lips closed over my nipple and drew hard. I plunged my fingers into his hair and held him close. His scent and his body were the most perfect things I’d ever had the good fortune to touch. I wished . . .
“Rena, I want to make love to you. I need to make love to you,” he moaned.
“I want that, too,” I whispered. Thankfully he didn’t notice the tears in my eyes. This was so bittersweet for me. Making love with the person I loved, whom I couldn’t be with because, as much as he thought my crazy was okay, eventually it would destroy us.
“Come with me.” He practically dragged me to his bedroom. His bed dominated the room. It was huge. Dark blue sheets and a squishy down comforter covered the mattress and tons of pillows littered the bed. I could get lost in that bed. “Don’t move,” he said, pushing me against the wall and giving me a kiss that curled my toes. So much for doing it on his bed . . . I watched as he frantically searched for a condom. The muscles in his back were so hot. They flexed as he tore through his bedside drawer. His giraffe seemed to come to life with his movement. I tried unsuccessfully to stifle my laughter.
“I know what you’re laughing at.” He grinned as he tore the condom open with his teeth. “And I give you full permission to laugh at it for the rest of your life.”
Oh God, if only. I pushed those thoughts out of my head and concentrated on watching him slide the condom over his massive and gorgeous erection. Everything in my body tightened in anticipation of the feeling of him inside me.
His frenzied pace had slowed and he walked toward me like an animal stalking prey. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he said in a low voice. Shit, all he had to do to make me come was keep talking. He looked like he wanted to devour me and that was A-OK with me.
He grasped me by the waist and lifted me in the air. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said gruffly, running his open mouth across my collar bone and nipping at my shoulder.
The wall felt cool against my back in contrast to the heat of his hard body. My breasts were smashed on his chest, and I could feel the swollen head of his cock pressed against my pelvis. One of his hands reached around my body and between my legs to test my readiness. “Oh God,” he muttered, burying his fingers in my moisture. “You are so fucking wet. I need to fuck you. Now. I need to be inside you now.”
My pulse quickened to heart attack levels. I reached back and guided him to me. He held me up by my ass and lowered my body onto his. The exquisite burn of something so large entering me made my head spin. He was going too slow . . . I wanted, oh God, I wanted . . .
I screamed as he read my mind and buried himself to the hilt. I started to rock back and forth on him. This felt so much deeper than the last time and tiny explosions were going off inside me.
“Rena,” he ground out, “look at me.” I opened my eyes as he forcibly slowed the movement of our bodies. “If you won’t believe my words, let me show you how I feel with my body. Please.”
I nodded my head. I didn’t trust my voice. My heart thumped wildly in my chest and I was so close to telling him that I loved him, I had to bite down on my tongue. He smiled and lifted my body like it was a feather, slowly up and down his own.
As his body invaded mine I moaned and ran trembling fingers through his hair. His slow pace ended quickly as I writhed against him. Wrapping one arm around my waist and the other under my ass, he plunged into me with hard powerful strokes. He whispered in my ear, but I had no idea what he was saying. I could barely think . . . barely function. The sound of our flesh coming together was so hot, I forgot how to breathe.
His lips moved to my neck as his lower body increased the speed, making my control snap. I screamed as little frissons of white-hot pleasure shot through me. His avid attention to my neck made me lose brain cells.
A slow heat started low in my abdomen, traveling upward at a blindingly fast pace. My body jerked as shock wave after shock wave ricocheted through me. My body tightened like a vise around his cock and his eyes went wide with pleasure. I think I was speaking Russian because I couldn’t even understand what I was saying.
Jack threw his head back and shouted as he came. He crushed my mouth to his and we rode out the aftershocks connected to each other in every way.
My bones had turned to water. That was not just sex. I’d had sex before, not a lot, and never with a law-abiding citizen, but this was more than just sex. It felt like my atoms had shifted, like he had fundamentally changed me. The more he gave, the more I wanted to give back, and I knew losing him would be losing part of myself. I didn’t want that to happen. Maybe it could work . . .
He walked me to his bed and gently laid me on top of his comforter. He wrapped his big strong body around mine and stroked my hair. Cardboard Brett Favre just wouldn’t do. “Jack, I want . . .” I froze and looked at his ceiling. WTF? “You have a mirrored ceiling?” I gasped, wondering if I had gotten all the signals wrong and he was a big old player.
He started laughing, “It was here when I moved in. I haven’t had time to take it down. Why?” he teased. “Do you like it?”
“Um, I don’t know,” I muttered, feeling the heat crawl up my neck. I looked up at our reflections and noticed something odd. No fucking way. “Did you give me a hickey?” I shouted. I had so much to do today. I didn’t have time to explain to everyone that I’d gotten my brains screwed out by a cop with a vampire fetish. Shit.
“Ohhh,” he said without an ounce of remorse, “I guess I did.”
There was no hiding the huge red hickey he’d put on my neck. It would even peek out from a turtleneck, unless I wore it up over my mouth. “What are you, Bigfoot?” I yelled.
“Bigfoot gives hickeys?” he asked, totally confused.
“How should I know? I’ve only been to one meeting.” I slapped my hands over my mouth and burst into tears. Why did I always sound crazy around him? I hopped up and ran to the other room. I yanked on my clothes and grabbed my purse. I wanted to burst out of my skin. He sprinted out of the bedroom completely naked, almost making me forget my name. “Don’t say a word,” I warned as he opened his mouth to speak. “It won’t work between us. I can try to be what you want, but I will always go to Bigfoot meetings. I will babysit my aunt’s Martians because I love her and it makes her happy. I will say and do stupid and embarrassing things till the day I die. You need a normal girl and I need to move to Iowa and get married to a cardboard cutout who doesn’t give a damn what comes out of my mouth.”
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