No Interest in Love (25 page)

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Authors: Cassie Mae

BOOK: No Interest in Love
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“Damn it,” I mutter, embarrassed laughter shaking us both.

“This is why I need to be on top,” she teases.

I remove my hands from her wrists and pin her hips still instead.

“I'm going in,” I say like a man strapped and ready for battle. She's laughing as I push inside, and holy hell, I've never had a woman laugh before during sex and now I'm thinking I don't want it to stop.

“This is not how I pictured this going,” I say, falling against her. She moves a piece of hair from my face, but it goes right back.

“I think it's going just fine.”

“There's that word again.”

She rolls her eyes, then presses a kiss to my lips.

“Jace…I'm having fun.”

“I was hoping for romantic. But I haven't exactly done romantic before.”

“Fun
is
romantic. I don't have fun with a lot of other people. I didn't even know
this
could be fun.”

“Me neither. I mean…not fun like this.”

“Wow,” she says with a wide smile. “We agree on something.”

I lean down and press a gentle kiss to that smile. It hits me everywhere, and not just the physical parts but the parts I never thought I had. And I grab hold of her hand, link our fingers together, and laugh purely out of joy that I'm with a woman I'd like to keep hold of.

She looks at our hands and kisses my palm.

We finally find a rhythm both of us are happy with, and I want to charge forward, take a running gallop to the point of no return. If this had happened with anyone else, I would have done it without another thought. I would've taken what I wanted and left. But what I want this time is different. I want this for her, but selfishly, I want this to last with her for me too.

And I'm trying to make that look of pleasure that is now resting on her face last, but Woody is about to do his solo, then throw the mic down and leave the stage.

“This is bad,” I say, and her arching back falls to the floor.

“Well, don't sugarcoat it.”

“No.” I grin. “I mean, it feels so good, I'm not gonna last.”

She grabs onto my arms, nails digging into my skin. I quirk a smile at that gnawed-up pinkie.

“I don't care,” she says. “I want you now, and I want you fast.”

“I want you…satisfied. You know, thinking I'm a sex god. Best you ever had.”

“If you don't go fast,” she threatens, slamming her hips upward, “then I will.”

“I'm gonna blow.”

“Damn it, Jace. That's the whole point of sex, isn't it?” She thrusts up again. “I
want
you to blow.”

I laugh, pushing my hips forward now. “That's the hottest thing you've ever said.”

“Sick pervert,” she jokes, but our laughter is chased away as our speed increases. Her fists slam into my arms and she starts shouting at me. Full-on, bossy shouting. Korean mixed with English. I'm so far gone into my haze I barely catch it, but I hear “more” and “faster” and “harder,” and when I hear those things I oblige.

She's damn gorgeous.

Adorable even in bed.

It's 10:27.

And Woody calls it a day.

10:29
A.M.

“It's been three years.”

“Hmmerflunk?”

Shay rolls over, resting her head on my beating heart. “I haven't been to Happy Land in three years.”

I let out a breathless snort. “Well, don't sugarcoat it.”

“No…” She waves a useless hand at me. “I mean, you took me there just now. I even saw the fireworks show.”

“You don't have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I'm not.”

“I lasted five minutes.”

“Longer than the last guy.”

I manage to pick up my head. “By how much?”

“Let's just say he hopped on the elevator without pushing any buttons, then jumped off.”

Ah, hell. I fall back, trying not to laugh, but I can't help the smile wrapping up my face. This is why I pushed the buttons before I
got on
the elevator.

I rest my forehead on her temple, tapping a kiss to her lips when she turns.

“Don't laugh at me,” she chuckles around my mouth. “It was a magical evening.”

“I know. How can I compete with that?” I take her hand and bring it up between us. “You know…you're another first.”

“Elaborate.”

“First time having morning sex.”

Her almond eyes fall shut as she laughs. The sound is so hypnotic I barely hear the small knock coming at the door, and both our brows furrow.

“Are you expecting company?” she asks, and I shake my head. I sit up, but she pulls on my arm and takes me in, smiling, for another kiss.

Rap rap
.

“We're good on room service!” I call out, then whip Shay underneath me. Her nails run across my tattoo, making me shiver and lose my balance. It's going to be a minute before I can go at it again, but I'm good with afterplay. Never actually done afterplay before…

“I have a delivery for a Mr. Jason Sterne,” a deep voice muffles through the door.

Shay sighs and shoves my face away. “Go get it.”

I kiss her one more time, then hoist myself off the bed. I bump right into the wall. Damn, she's made me lose it.

“Put on pants!” She laughs. I snatch a towel from the bathroom rack and cover the goods.

It's just a thick envelope. Something the guy could've easily left by the door. I take it from him and rip into it as I walk back to the bed.

“What is that?” Shay asks, sitting up. I love that she doesn't cover herself at all.

“Probably the room service bill.”

She pinches my forearm before settling her chin on my shoulder. A sharp gasp flies past her lips and she snatches the papers before I even get a chance to look at them.

“Jace…this is a
contract
.”

I flip around. “What?”

“You got the part. Look at that number!” She points at the dollar sign and the zeros and I grab it back from her.

“Holy shit…They gave it to me? Carletta said…” I taper off, flipping through the pages, not understanding a word of it but knowing Shay will do a fine-tooth comb-over.

“Carletta said what?”

I put the papers down, shaking my head and pulling her in for a kiss. “Nothing.”

Shay sneaks her hand in between our mouths, so I lick across her knuckles and laugh.

“What'd she say, Jace?” she asks again, wiping her hand off on my chest.

“She just implied that the part had to be…earned with a little bit more effort than the screen test.”

Shay's lips part just slightly, her nose wrinkling up, and even that has me thinking she's adorable as hell. I lean in and kiss under her ear.

“When was this?”

“Last night,” I say between kisses.

She pushes on my chest, making my eyes lock with hers. “When last night? Before you came here?”

I let out a sigh, picking up her hand, just wanting to hold her in whatever way I can. “I wasn't going to sleep with her if I got the part. I had to let her know that.”

“Were you so sure that I'd fall victim to your charms?” she asks, nudging me in the arm. I'm tempted to tell her, “Hell yeah,” for fun, but I go for honesty this time around.

“Actually, I was pretty damn sure you were going to stab me in the heart with your rejection.”

Her eyebrows pull in, and she looks down at our hands. “And you still wouldn't sleep with her?”

I shake my head.

And next thing I know, Shay's lips are on mine, the contract long forgotten under our half-naked bodies.

12:53
P.M.

I order room service, making sure to get Shay her own plate of chicken.

“I think we're supposed to check out soon,” she says, but makes no movement from the bed. She's still topless.

“We deserve another night.”

She reaches for the chicken, but I cover it with the lid, cutting her hand off.

“Take it easy this time.”

“I'll do what I want.”

I chuckle and push the cart away. She drops her mouth in mock shock, then stands up on the bed and lunges at me.

Woody makes it twice as long this time around.

6:45
P.M.

“Tell me what that look is,” I say, dragging my fingers across Shay's lips. I want to know every look, every thought.

“I don't want to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because your head is big enough.”

The corner of my mouth lifts, and I tangle my fingers through her hair, pull her to me, and press a lingering kiss against her forehead.

“You know I say that cocky shit to bug you on purpose. I like seeing that feisty girl I met in Times Square, so I make her come out as often as I can.”

“Most people hate that girl.”

“Not me.”

She pushes her lips together, and I know she's trying not to smile. I trace her mouth with a laugh, and that's when I get the nose wrinkle, the narrowed eyes, the slow burn of annoyance flickering across her expression. And I laugh again, because there's the feisty girl, and I didn't have to say anything to pull her out that time.

“That casting director was out of his mind,” she says, and I raise an eyebrow to her. She sighs. “That's what this look is. Because your ass…It's
glorious
.”

Then my feisty girl smiles. She smiles so wide and her fingers tumble down my back, nails scratching slightly. She lands on my “glorious” maximus and squeezes it in a teasing pinch.

“Wanna go again?” she asks with a lift of her eyebrow. She doesn't even get the entire sentence out before I'm back in the game.

After twenty minutes, I lose track of time.

9:01
P.M.

Shay tangles our hands together, watching our fingers as we lie side by side, feet kicked up on the wall.

I'm watching her.

I don't think I want to do anything else for as long as I live.

“Who was I in
Jace: The Movie
?” she asks.

“Miss Unlikely,” I tell her without hesitation. She laughs.

“I like that.” Her eyes flick from our hands to meet mine. “Means I'm unpredictable.”

“You are very much that.” And thank you, screenwriter, for making her that way.

She slides closer, enough to press a kiss to my nose. I kiss hers right back, and with it I throw out every single page of the Stinson Bible.

I'm ready to be Ted.

“You're not Miss Unlikely anymore,” I say, bringing our hands up to my mouth. “Your character description has been revised.” I press kisses along her knuckles, then playfully bite her thumb. She grins and does the same to me.

“Can I pick my name? Miss Awesome. Or Miss Great in Bed. Or Miss Always Right.”

“How about Miss End Game?”

Her adorably wide eyes smile without her mouth making the movement. “For the week?” she asks, and I shake my head. Her lips curl up against the back of my hand. “Does this mean you think this'll last?”

Yeah, I think this'll last. I sure as hell want it to.

“Man, I hope so.”

Monday
(A Few Months Later)

4:45
P.M.

Shay

The thing is huge.

Probably could hold three or four duplicates of my car.

Or more accurately, my old car, since I just dropped it off to the new owners. They live right next to Jace's grandma…right next to the nice house he bought for her.

After landing that contract, he took his advance and dropped it on the house. Grandma cried, gave me a hug, and told me she was so grateful to me for being so on top of things (which was more than I got from my own parents).

When we left, Jace was really quiet, and that wasn't like him at all.

“I'm not sure if I should ask you what's wrong, or if I should take advantage of the silence,” I said with a laugh as we went down the front-porch stairs. His hand twitched in mine, and suddenly he was wrapping me up in a hug so tight I had to tap on his back a little so I could catch my breath.

“I never thought I'd be able to do that,” he said. “I always wanted to, but never really thought that…”

He laughed. Picked me up. Swung me around. Laughing and laughing, which had me laughing. Then he put me down on my feet, stared right into my eyes, and said, “Thank you.”

My heart gave out. It was the first time I'd felt truly appreciated for the work I'd done. I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to my level. Our lips touched, our tongues tangled, and we moved the party back to his place. We had some wicked sex that night because, let's be honest, when your very cocky and sexy boyfriend does something so freaking selfless and sweet, you just want to ride him until you can't see straight anymore.

That was probably the night it happened, now that I think about it…

I take a deep breath, biting my lip and staring at what I think is the passenger door but looks more like a bus's opening than a car's. My new place. My first place with a boyfriend. My first-ever motor home experience.

I don't know if I can breathe.

A nudge to my ankle tears my eyes away from the nerve-racking, life-altering conversation I'm about to have and to the scrappy-looking rescue pup I've got attached to the leash around my wrist.

“Yep, that's it,” I tell him. When Jace told me he wanted to buy a motor home, I thought he was nuts. But then he said something that he probably didn't realize was so sweet at the time. He told me that he's become a big fan of road trips. And I know it's stupid and forward and arrogant to think that maybe
I
have something to do with that, but I think it anyway.

The rescue puppy brushes his fuzzy head against my leg and whines a little. “Shh,” I console him. “You gotta be quiet because you're a surprise.” I take another deep breath, finally finding air again. “One of many.”

I straighten my shoulders and step forward, pushing my bag around so it doesn't fall off my shoulder as I hike up the humongous steps to get into the motor home. When Jace bought it, he asked if he should get me a carabiner so I could climb in and out of it every day. I proved him wrong by bouncing up the steep steps all by myself. But I never considered that I'd be sporting a large belly anytime soon, and in nine months I'll need a forklift.

The scrappy puppy stays close to my ankles, sniffing around the motor home floor. Jace unpacked my things. The whole front area, which includes a couch, a table, and a kitchen, was piled with boxes this morning, but it's clean now. He's even put up a selfie of us that we took his first day of shooting. He's kissing my neck and I'm laughing and scolding him to smile. I love that picture.

A wave of nausea hits me out of
nowhere,
and I rush to the sink, clutching the edge of the counter. I take calculated inhales and exhales, trying to relax the sudden roll of my stomach. I wasn't able to stop the puke early this morning—like, way early. It was 3
A.M.
when Jace found me curled up in the bathroom and telling him to just let me die.

But as I breathe deep, the nausea slowly dissipates, and I notice a lovely sheen of sweat has glossed over my forehead. I take a rag and wipe myself off, and a big
clang
makes me jump.

“No!” I whisper-scold the puppy as he pushes his nose into the pots and pans cupboard.

“Shay? Is that you?” Jace calls from the back. I bend down and stuff the pots back in place.

“Yeah!”

“You alone?”

He sounds playful. My lips turn up and I shut the cupboard door. “Sort of.”

There's a pause. Enough time for me to dump my bag on the couch and strap the leash around the closet door handle. The puppy jumps onto a chair and digs his nose into the fabric.

“Will you come back here for a minute?” Jace calls out. “Alone!”

I roll my eyes. I'd bet my entire royalty check on him being buck naked when I open that back door to our bedroom.

Cracking the door, I take one peek and see his hard-earned leading-actor muscles from toe to crown, perched in a pose that would make Captain Morgan jealous.

I should've written that bet down.

“Yes?” I ask, sneaking inside, trying to be oblivious to his intentions for the evening's activities. It's hard though. I honestly want to tackle that Captain Morgan and ride him out. Tangle my fingers in his brown hair, nibble at his stubble, which he has to keep up for his role, grab at his glorious ass…

But another wave of sick pushes through my stomach and all those thoughts fly from my head.

“We must mark our territory,” he says with a lopsided grin. His fisted hands on his waist loosen, and he rests one on the bed bunk. “We can mark it here.” He points to the bottom bunk. “And here.” Then he nods behind me. “And everywhere out there.”

“You want to pee all over our new place?” I joke, bending down to fix my pillowcase, which he must've rushed to put my pillow into. He takes the two steps to close the distance between us, waking up the butterflies that are making my stomach queasy.

“Can you get rid of whoever is out there?” he asks. His smile is infectious. It always has been. Even though I'm pretty sure I'm about to hurl, I want to smile with him.

Instead I take a deep breath, hoping it doesn't smell like pregnancy. “Well, that's going to be a problem.”

“Why?”

“Because our guest will be staying with us for a while.”

“Oh, you want them to join in?” he jokes, obviously thinking
I'm
joking. “They can have a little taste of this.”

He takes a step back, gyrating his hips into a windmill.

“That's hot.” I lean against the wall, unfazed. “But you might want to put it away.”

“I know where I want to put it.”

“Yeah, but Wolverine might get a little playful with you, and his teeth are pretty sharp.”

His brow furrows slightly, grin still on his face as he tries to understand my comment. Keeping my face as impassive as possible, which is so hard since I feel like the sun is trying to rise up my neck, I pull on the leash, bringing the rescue puppy into the bed cabin.

Jace's sexy brown eyes brighten, and he fumbles for his jeans he carelessly tossed on the floor. He stuffs one leg in, and in his haste to get the other he loses his balance and falls straight to the bottom bunk bed.

My laughter releases, and I jump on top of him.

“You got a dog?” he says, and I kiss his smiling lips.

“Hope that's okay. I've heard the road can get lonely.”

“Hell yes, it's okay.” He pats the bed, and Wolverine hops up and immediately nibbles at Jace's fingers.

“I think it'll be good pr—” I stop, stomach churning, and before I can spit anything out Jace grabs my face and smooths his thumb over my forehead.

“You okay?”

“I'm fine,” we both say at the same time, him in a very bad imitation of my voice. I pinch his nose and wiggle it. “I am. I just…I think it'll be good practice too.”

His eyebrow rises in the most adorable confused way. “Good practice…?”

I nod, gaze dropping to his chest. I play with the barely there hair. He has to wax it a lot for his shirtless scenes. It's hilarious holding his hand while he sits in wardrobe and makeup.

Before I can get out why owning a dog is good practice for the life-altering news I have for him, Jace puts a hand on my face, running a thumb across my cheek.

The entire world spins.

I cuss in Korean, shoving off his bare chest and rushing to the toilet.

“Was it something I said?” Jace laughs from the bunks. I groan against the porcelain, silently wondering why the universe is determined to make me look as unladylike as possible around him.

“I'm sorry,” I moan by the toilet when Jace comes in. “I'm—”

“Fine. I know.” He crouches next to me, tucking my hair back. Wolverine bounces between us, and Jace picks him up and settles him outside the bathroom. “But I think we'll put a pause on marking our territory.”

“You don't want a piece of this?” I lazily gesture to myself, sweating and groggy against the toilet.

“Always,” he says, running a hand through his unruly hair. “But let's let the food baby pass first.”

My eyes drift up to meet his, and I know it's not the best place to announce it, but out it comes anyway.

“Pretty sure it's an actual baby this time.”

His green eyes widen to saucers.
Yeah, babe, I'm being serious,
I tell him telepathically.

“I'm gonna be a dad?”

“If it's yours,” I tease. He scoots closer to me, and I bat him away in case there's more lunch glugging through my stomach. But he ignores my lousy attempts at keeping him at bay. His hands cup my cheeks, and the light behind his eyes equals scared beyond belief…yet…
thrilled
.

I think he's about to say something super poignant. But he says, “I gotta call Grandma.”

One of my real laughs, the kind that come from deep down in my tummy, barrels from my lips. “I love you,” I say, shaking my head at his imperfect words, which are always
so
perfect in moments like these. It hits me two seconds later that I've said the words we've never said to each other. The words that scared him so badly the last time he heard them. My heart squeezes in my chest, cutting off all my cognitive functions.

His mouth perks up slightly in the corner, and he gathers me up in his arms. We cuddle by the toilet with Wolverine resting on our legs.

“Well,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple, “I love you too.”

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