If I Loved You (Harper Falls Book 1) (6 page)

Unfortunately, when he drank too much he
tended to become susceptible to suggestions. The more outrageous,
the better. Oh, never anything terribly dangerous or illegal. Jack
never lost his sense of self-preservation. But if it was relatively
harmless than he was all in. In college it had gotten him a
tattoo—a rather large one on his right shoulder. It wasn’t anything
embarrassing, but it served as a reminder. Don’t get fall down,
stinking drunk—ever again. But last night the drinks had snuck up
on him. His body was overly tired, and it took less alcohol than
usual to knock him on his butt. And on top of everything else, he
was blessed with
TRD
, total drinking
recall. No blanks in
his
memory. No,
he remembered every idiotic moment of the mess he’d gotten himself
into.

First there was his hair, what little of it
that was left. Sometime during the night he’d mentioned his need
for a haircut. Naturally someone had the bright idea to get a pair
of sheep shears that the previous owners had left in the barn.
Sounded like a great idea to him. It would save him a trip to the
barber.
Of course,
the rusty old
things had still worked. Drew ran his hand over the dark stubble on
his head. His hair hadn’t been this short since he cut it himself
and his dad ended up evening it out. At least that time they had
been actual clippers meant for humans. He was lucky the drunken
idiots hadn’t taken his ear off. But it was just hair, it would
grow back. It was the second thing that he had agreed to that was
the problem. Because of tequila and a stupid bet he now had to be
celibate for the next month.

Three weeks to be technical. The guys had
been generous enough to count the prior week as part of the bet.
Jack had no doubt he could make it; he wasn’t a sex addict. It was
just that knowing he couldn’t have any was making him think about
it more than at any time since he’d lost his virginity when he was
seventeen. He hadn’t gone longer than a week since then, and he had
been looking forward to tonight. Every woman here looked
particularly beautiful and he couldn’t do anything about it.

He could have gotten out of the bet. This
morning none of the guys remembered what had gone on the night
before. Some of them remembered the bet but couldn’t remember the
details. But Jack did, vividly. And his stupid sense of fair play
made him fill them in—with every embarrassing detail.

The rules were simple but specific. He
couldn’t tell anyone about the bet. If he went out on a date, he
could provide the woman with an orgasm as long as his dick didn’t
penetrate any part of her body. He wasn’t allowed to let her
pleasure him but if he came in his pants without manual help from
her, that was acceptable. Masturbation? Hell, yes—thank God.

Jack sighed again. Good Lord, what were
they, a bunch twelve-year-olds? The bet had been Drew’s evil
idea—every single detail of it. If his dear, old friend hadn’t
spent the morning holding his head and looking like death warmed
over, Jack would have kicked his ass. And then the jerk had the
gall to laugh like a banshee when reminded of it. Jack’s
satisfaction in seeing Drew’s head almost explode with pain was
short lived. Three weeks. Something told him he was going to be
spending a lot of time in the gym, and with his hand on his
dick.

Rose scanned the crowd. It shouldn’t be hard
to find Jack. He was a man that left an impression, which meant he
was the exact opposite of the men Rose dated. For once she was
going to give in and go off her bland diet. For one night she was
going hot and spicy—she planned on gorging herself on beautiful
man.

Her gaze stopped on a tall man with dark
hair. He was standing alone across the room, holding a glass and
looking none too pleased to be there. Not terribly approachable.
She almost moved on, but something about him made her look again.
It was Jack. Well, no wonder she hadn’t recognized him. Rose had
been looking for someone with dark hair, but she thought it was
much longer. She remembered when they met she’d had the fleeting
desire to run her fingers through the thick, wavy locks—to find out
if they could be as soft as they looked. But all that beautiful
hair was gone. And though it didn’t seem possible, he was even more
attractive that before.

Maybe the hair had been a distraction.
Because now when she looked at him all she saw was his impossibly
beautiful face—all sculpted cheekbones, firm but inviting lips and
a jaw line that she found herself wanting to bite. She couldn’t
remember ever being turned on by a man’s jaw, but there it was.
Jack Winston was the total package. And if his reputation held up,
Rose planned on giving his jaw, and the rest of him, plenty of
attention.

Looking at him, Rose had a moment of doubt.
Maybe she should start a little slower and work up to a man like
Jack. But what the hell. Tonight she was splurging. After denying
herself for so long, she deserved a treat.

“Champagne?”

Rose accepted the fluted crystal glass and
swallowed down the contents in one gulp. Before the waiter could
move on she exchanged her empty for a full one. She might have been
arming herself with false courage, but in the short run it couldn’t
hurt. Right now, she needed all the help she could get.

Five more minutes, Jack promised himself. He
was only supposed to put in an appearance, so an hour should
fulfill all of his promise to Drew. If he started inching his way
towards the door, by the time he’d exchanged a few greetings and
had shaken some hands, he’d be nicely situated to make a quick
escape.

“Dance with me, Jack?”

Damn it, he’d been so close. He turned
towards the voice having every intention of politely turning her
down. Dancing was not on his agenda for the evening. But the
refusal died a quick death the moment he saw who it was.

Rose O’Brian.

Her eyes were the color of rich amber. A man
didn’t quickly forget eyes like that. Sparks of red and gold shot
through her shoulder length hair. Growing up with older sisters he
knew that women had a knack for fixing their hair for occasions
like this one. He’d coughed his way through enough toxic clouds of
hairspray to remember that. But Rose’s hair looked silky soft, not
lacquered to within an inch of its life.

Jack had felt a spark from the moment he’d
met Rose. But, it had been obvious she didn’t feel the same. He
might have tried to persuade her. Wouldn’t that have been fun? But
two things had stopped him.
His
best
friend and
her
best friend. Drew
Harper and Tyler Jones had a history, one that had ended badly.
Drew still wanted her, and Tyler crossed the street rather than
take a chance of coming within ten feet of him. No, as tempting as
Rose was it just hadn’t seemed worth the trouble their association
might stir up.

Walk away, his inner voice screamed. You’re
one week into that asinine bet, and this woman could turn out to be
too much temptation to resist. But man, was she lovely. It wasn't
so much that her dress hugged her body, but it accentuated all the
right places. The stark white material covered almost all of her
creamy skin leaving just the dip at the base of her neck bare. It
was a spot just made for a man’s kiss. His kiss. She had the height
of a model but way better curves. No jutting hip bones on Rose. He
could easily imagine his hands cupping those full breasts. He’d be
playing with fire if he held her in his arms for even a moment. And
for the length of a song? Torture. But the hopeful look in her eyes
made it impossible for him to turn away. Okay, torture it might be,
but since he couldn’t bring himself to say no he might as well
enjoy it.

Without a word, Jack took her hand and swept
her into his arms. One dance wasn’t going to kill him.

“Someone’s had lessons,” Rose laughed with
relief. She had thought for a moment that he was going to turn her
down.

“My mother insisted that all her children
learn to ballroom dance,” Jack smiled as he remembered the battle
of wills between himself and his mother. Holding Rose close, he
expertly twirled them around the room. He never could win a battle
of wills against his mom, but he hadn't made it easy for her. Every
week she’d had to drag her twelve-year-old son to the lessons,
promising that someday he would get good use out of them. Someday
he would thank her. Mom always won, and Mom was always right.

“How many children are we talking about?”
she asked. Rose had heard the affection in Jack’s voice when he’d
mentioned his mother. Happy families always fascinated Rose. She’d
lived next door to Dani’s, but that was from the outside looking
in. Tyler’s parents were often barely hanging on by a very thin
thread. And though she'd lived with them, she’d never felt very
close to any of the Jones’ except for Tyler. She’d always wondered
what it would be like to be an integral part of a big, boisterous
family.

“Six older sisters.”

“You’re kidding,” Rose laughed. “Were you
tormented or spoiled rotten?”

“Both. It depended on whether or not they
were mad at me or wanted to use me as their own personal dress up
doll.”

“You didn’t consider that torment?” Rose
asked. Jack must have been a very interesting child.

“You’d think so,” Jack shrugged. “But while
they were putting mascara and eye shadow on me they forgot I was
their annoying little brother and would talk about all things
girls. You wouldn’t believe what I learned, though I’ll admit I
could have done without their discussion about periods and feminine
hygiene products."

Rose couldn’t think anything to say. How did
one steer the conversation into a sexy direction with that image in
your head?

“Sorry,” Jack said as if reading her
thoughts. “Not casual conversation appropriate. Did you grow up
with any siblings?”

“No, it was just me and my Mom.” She wasn’t
going to go there. Too personal and even more of a mood killer than
tampons.

Jack could feel the slight stiffening of
Rose’s body. Obviously not a happy subject.

“Why don’t we just enjoy the dance,” he
suggested. “I’m going to head us out onto the balcony, no talking
required.”

Rose hadn’t realized how warm the ballroom
had become until the evening air enveloped them. It felt wonderful
invigorating, and she could feel the tension slip away. Spring was
in full bloom. Lush greenery surrounded them and though a few other
couples were already taking advantage of the mild May night, it
wasn’t difficult for Rose to imagine that they were completely
alone—in their own little world. It felt as if the music was
playing just for them. Dancing in the arms of a dangerously
handsome man, a man she barely knew? It was a heady experience. She
could feel the attraction, an attraction she was sure was
mutual.

It wasn’t a romance she kept reminding
herself; she didn’t want that. This was about sex. She wouldn’t let
herself get carried away just because they were surrounded by all
the fairy tale trappings. This fantasy was of the carnal variety.
No prince. No happily ever after.

Jack had hoped the night air would cool his
libido. It hadn’t. Rose smelled amazing, all warm vanilla and
bright citrus. And then there was the bare skin of her back,
smooth, tempting. He couldn’t resist exploring her back until his
hand hovered oh so close to that dip in her spine that would lead
him to her amazing ass. But you didn’t grope your dance partner, it
was just wrong. But that didn’t stop his imagination from going
where his hand couldn’t. Firm and smooth with just the right amount
of feminine padding. Made perfectly for a man to grip while she
rode them both to satisfaction.

“Jack,” Rose frowned as she called his name
for the third time. “Jack, are you alright. You look a bit
flushed.”

He tried not to groan out loud. Stop
fantasizing, Jack. Not here. Not until you’re back at your
place—alone. And it had better be soon.

“I’m fine. It’s been a long week, and I
guess it’s starting to catch up with me.” Which was partly true.
Hopefully, it was enough of an excuse to cover for his fantasy
lapse.

“Should we sit out the rest of the
dance?”

“No, I’m fine. Really.” He pulled her
closer. The song would end soon, and he wanted to remember every
detail of how she felt in his arms. “I’m glad you asked me to
dance.”

“Jack,” she pulled back a bit so she could
see his face. Damn, did her voice just squeak? She tried again,
deliberately lowering the timbre. “Jack.” Much better.

“Rose.”

“Yes?”

“Nothing, I just thought we were saying each
other’s names.” He put his lips next to her ear and whispered, “I
like the way you say my name. Do it again.”

“Jack.”

“Nice,” he breathed. “Husky and so damn
sexy.”

“Jack.”
Stop saying his
name and finish what you’ve started.
“Let’s go to my
place a screw our brains out.” Hardly subtle but she needed to get
to the point.

Yes
, Jack
wanted to shout. Instead, he took her hand and led her to a bench
that was situated at the side of the balcony and provided them some
privacy.

“That was unexpected,” he began after
seating them both.

“Should I apologize?” Rose asked.

“No,” Jack assured her. “It just surprised
me. And as much as it pains me, I’ll have to decline your
invitation.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

Unoffended, Jack laughed. “No.”

She leaned in a bit and whispered,
“STD?”

“Nope, clean as a whistle.”

“Erectile dysfunction?”

“Not at the moment.”

Rose looked down, her eyes growing wide. Ok,
impressive.

“Premature ejacula—” Jack put his hand over
her mouth before she could finish.