So. Long.: Bad Boy Next Door (28 page)

When the wet noises from under the table become audible,
Shayna pushes Baxter out of the booth. “Come on. I need to get a little air.”

They walk away, Baxter’s hand riding low on Shayna’s
sequin-clad ass. Hmm. “Interesting.”

Jackson leans close, his breath hot on the shell of my ear.
“I want to taste you.”

Yes. That. Let’s do that. Really soon.

He pulls his hand from under the table, leaving my throbbing
pussy lonesome. He sucks the juice from his fingers, making me even more wet. Then
he slides his tongue around his thick fingers, and down between them. I lick my
lips, and his eyes latch onto the movement.

His lips crash down on mine. My cream mixed with his whiskey.
It tastes of man and sex and all the heat I’ve been missing for the last two
years, three months, and twenty-six days. Yes, I’ve counted.

The more we kiss, the higher the pressure in my womb. His
hand dives between my legs as he dominates my mouth. Jack wiggles a second
finger into my slit, and a small moan escapes. He captures the sound with his
mouth sealed over mine.

When we come up for air, he pulls back and runs his thumb
across my lower lip. “You surprise me, Ronnie.”

I nip the edge of his thumb. “How so?”

He rams his other fingers deeper into my pussy, tickling the
innermost parts of me. “I never thought you’d be the kind of girl to get down
and dirty in a restaurant. I had you pegged for more of a flowers and courtship
first, only give up the poontang after the
I DO
s are said kind of gal.”

I rock my hips, grinding against his hand.

“Oh, I am. But that’s only for guys who I actually want a
relationship with.” I lean up and bite his bottom lip. “I don’t even
particularly like you, so I can do what I want with you—you don’t matter all
that much to me.”

I don’t matter, so she can do what she wants with me?

Fuck yeah, she can!

My smile spreads, and I give her a smacking kiss on her
cheek. “Now that’s my kind of girl.”

I’ll walk away afterward, free and clear. No strings, because
she
doesn’t even like me.

Score!

Baxter and Shayna return to the dining room. After they
slide into the booth, I order a round of after-dinner drinks and dismiss the
waiter.

Shayna’s hair is disheveled, and one of the thin straps of
her dress is missing, likely tucked into the top edge.

I wish I were buried balls-deep in Ronnie’s sweet pussy
right about now. But anticipation is half the fun. So, I sink knuckle-deep into
her hot, wet cunt, turning my fingers so I can rub the knot just inside. In
return, she gives me a grunt and sucks in a small gasp.

Shayna makes a face and shakes her head.

That’s it, I’ve had enough of this shit. “Shayna, what are you
over there giving Ronnie the stink-eye for? You’re looking freshly fucked, so
it can’t be that you disapprove of public foreplay. Is the problem our specific
location?”

She pulls up the top of her dress. “No. I actually kinda
like a little exhibitionism when the opportunity presents itself. The problem
is the
jackass
she’s fooling around with. You probably won’t even give
her a courtesy O before you dump her out on the front lawn.”

I smile and nod. “Fair enough. But don’t worry; I’ll make
sure Ronnie gets hers. I pride myself on not busting a nut until the lady’s
been satisfied.”

Ronnie tightens her hold on my cock until it’s almost
painful. “Sitting right
here
, thank you.”

The waiter returns and sets the cocktails before us just as
a big ol’ boy with a bad comb-over passes by. Oh, he’ll fit perfectly into my plan.

Fuck. We need to get to business. I relinquish my hold on
Ronnie long enough to stir my drink with the tip of my finger.

I slip my hand beneath the tablecloth again. “All right,
ladies and gent—”

This time Ronnie’s ready for me. Legs spread, pussy slick.
That sly thing, she managed to divest herself of her panties when I wasn’t
paying attention. Fuck. We may have to skate out of here early.

I’ll be quick about this so I can get a taste of her peaches.
“Okay. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Ronnie’s legs snap closed, and she pushes my hand aside. Then
she yanks on my cock—and not in a good way—as she bites out her words. “So, you’re
really
going to choose some random guy. I’m supposed to entice him to
fall in love with me—and then you plan to sic my best friend on him to see if
she can seduce him—thus ruining my career when he gives in? Because he
will
.
Something like ninety-seven percent fail the Shayna test. She’s
exceptionally
good at her job.”

I pry her finger nails away from my pecker. “Whoa. Slow down.
I thought we’d all agreed on this wager? My audience expects it. It’s going to
be a real problem if we don’t provide what the public hopes for. A problem for
all of us, not only me.”

“Too bad.” Shayna tosses her napkin onto her plate. “I’m not
so sure
I’ll
go through with this. You’re asking me to ruin my friend’s
career.”

Ronnie massages her temples. “He’s right, Shay. We’ll all
suffer. Let’s just do it and see what happens. Maybe it won’t be that bad.
Maybe people won’t even care.
Maybe
I’ll be spared a lifetime of
embarrassment by a record-breaking earthquake.”

Shit. How’d I go from getting a hand-job to threatening my
date’s
job in the time it takes a rabbit to fuck?

The air stirs around the table; I yank my shawl around my
shoulders, tucking the edges between my thighs. What the hell was I even
thinking? Have fun? With him? He’s rude and crude, a socially unacceptable cad.

He points to a heavy-set guy, probably pushing forty, with a
six-finger forehead. “Him. If you can pull anyone in and make them grateful to
have someone to love, it’s got to be him.”

Shayna huffs. “You want me to try to seduce
that
?
Seriously?”

I elbow her.

“What about
me
? You may not even have to touch him.
I, on the other hand, will have to run my fingers through—” A shiver runs
through me at the thought of touching the unkempt slug of a man. “—ick, he looks
so greasy.”

Shayna and I turn on Jackson, both of us glaring. “No.”

Jack holds his hands up. “Fine. Okay, let me look around some
more.”

He pushes out of the booth and strolls around the dining
room, perusing the choices of unattached men. Finally, he stops and points, not
so discreetly, at a tall black guy. He reminds me of that guy on that FBI show,
the one with the light eyes that calls the techy chick Baby Girl.

Shay turns to me, brows raised in question. I shrug.

Jackson returns to the table. “So? Does he fit the bill?”

Shay lifts one shoulder.

“He’ll cheat,” she says, matter-of-factly.

My jaw drops. “You don’t know that. He could be the very loyal
sort.”

“He could be, but he’s not. He has the
look
. Then
again, I wouldn’t kick him outta bed, so whatever.”

Baxter crosses his muscular arms, scowling. “But you
won’t—sleep with him, I mean. No more than a few kisses, right?”

Shay rolls her eyes and then stares right at him. “Fuck and
release. I
told
you, fuck and
release
; that’s the policy.”

Baxter’s mouth hardens, and the muscle at his temple works
overtime.

Jackson slides into the booth next to me. “You okay with
that guy? If so, I’ll get a picture of him on the sly. It shouldn’t take my
crew long to figure out who he is.”

A huge sigh seeps out. “Sure, why not? One poor sap is as
good as the next, I suppose.”

The idea of purposefully fooling someone doesn’t sit right
with me. But I’ll be damned if I can figure out a way around it. I can’t afford
for this to crash my career. This is my chosen profession. There is no plan B.

Cindy, the petite woman from Jackson’s staff, puts the
little camera pin on my lapel. “Okay, just remember that if you need privacy,
you’ll have to turn it off. Bathroom, intimate moments, whatever.”

I nod. “You guys can see it all. Got it.”

When Cindy vacates the room and closes the door behind her,
I collapse in the chair at the dressing table.

This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Well, maybe not
as stupid as letting the architect of my demise finger-fuck me in a public
restaurant—then again, no. No,
this
is definitely the dumbest ever.

The door opens. My knotted stomach sinks.

Jackson.

In the mirror, he smiles, those dimples peeking out of his
perfectly kept stubble. My pulse beats in my panties, but I’m going to ignore
that—for my own sanity.

“Hey, beautiful. You ready to win this bet?” He steps behind
me and rests his hands on my shoulders.

I wrinkle my nose. “Don’t pretend that you think I’ll win.
You said yourself that you won’t buy what I’m selling.”

Reaching around me, he covers the camera with one finger,
and then he leans close and whispers in my ear. “All I can think about is how
your pussy tastes. What do you say, after your date with what’s-his-face, I’ll
come over? You can tell me how he’s falling for you, and I promise you’ll be
glad I came.”

I bite my bottom lip. My body is a traitor—probably because my
mind is far too imaginative about how he’ll make me happy he
came
. But,
I can’t do that to myself. Or to… wait, what
is
his name? Donny or David
or Dudley? Whatever—it doesn’t matter.

Pushing out of the chair, I brush his hand away. “Sorry,
Jack. Just because you have no moral compass, it doesn’t mean I don’t.”

He steps back, and his eyebrows knit. “What’s that supposed
to mean?”

I lean toward the mirror and wipe an errant eyelash from the
corner of my eye. “This guy has no idea what you’re plotting. He’s a normal guy
who’s taking a chance on a blind date.”

“So? What’s that got to do with your plans for after the
date?”

“I’m not going to leave a date with one man only to hop in
the sack with another that same evening.”

He crosses his arms and grins. “So, tomorrow then?”

“Seriously?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. I want to see you. This bet shouldn’t stop
you and me from spending some quality time together.”

Quality time? No.

“I’m not made that way, Jackson. I’ll give this guy the same
respect I’d give any man I might be interested in. Isn’t that what this is
supposed to be about—testing my methods?”

“He won’t have any idea. Besides, this is just a game.”

I poke his chest, pushing him aside. “No. It’s a game
to
you
. To me, it’s my career. To him it’s a date with the potential of
becoming more. Besides, he’d know the next time we meet.”

With a disbelieving shake of his head, Jackson says, “And
how’s he going to know? Unless
you
tell him.”

I brush by him on my way out the door. “
Chapter Three:
Men Are Smarter Than You Think
. Small clues and markers in the way I act
will tip him off.”