In Your Corner Page 99

“Went to the store and bought some while you were asleep. Then I stroked your sweet pu**y and listened to you moan.” He slicks a finger along my folds and trails my wetness along my inner thigh. “You liked it.”

My cheeks burn with the fire of one hundred suns. “I was asleep.”

“And dreaming of me.” He bends down and nibbles a trail from my belly button to my mound. I rub my hand over his head easing him down to where I want him to go.

“I miss your hair,” I say softly. “It was handy for giving directions.”

The look he gives me is carnal, intent. “Where do you want me to go, baby?”

Swallowing hard, I point to the dresser. “How about over there to get my purse and you can have your present.”

Jake sits back on his heels. “You bought me a present?”

“Fetch.”

His eyes narrow. Two seconds later, I am over his lap at the end of his bed, my ass in the air.

Smack. His hand lands on my cheek with a sharp crack.

I shriek and try to wiggle away as fire explodes across my backside, but Jake just tightens his grip and smacks again.

“Very disrespectful.” Smack. “Just so you understand, in the time we’ve been apart, nothing has changed.” Smack. Smack. “In the bedroom, I am in control.” Smack.

Shrieking and writhing on his lap, I look back over my shoulder and scowl. “You can be in control without smacking my ass.”

He drives two fingers deep inside me and curls them to stroke against my sensitive spot. “But then you wouldn’t get this wet, baby. And I like you this wet. I want you this wet all the time.”

“I do have a life beyond sexing it up with you.” My betraying body heats and I grind against his fingers, desperate for more.

Jake laughs and smacks me again. “Not anymore. I’m gonna sex it up with you every chance I get. Now, go get my present.”

He releases me and my burning ass and lies back on the bed, hands behind his head, legs spread, fully erect, and awaiting my pleasure. My very own pinup.

Gingerly, I walk across the floor and grab my purse from the dresser.

“Drop it.” His bark of warning startles me and I drop the purse.

“What? What is it? Spider? Bee? Bomb?”

Jake licks his lips. “Bend down and pick it up. Nice and slow. Show me that beautiful pink ass.”

“Seriously? You almost gave me a heart attack so you could watch me bend over.”

“Seriously, baby. You have got the finest ass I’ve ever seen. And now that it’s all pink and marked with my hand prints, it’s a work of art.”

With a snort, I bend over and pick up my purse. Fast. But I do give him a wiggle.

When I return to the bed, I fish around for the tiny package the courier delivered yesterday afternoon. With a flourish, I hand it to Jake.

He opens the little box and pulls out a small silver ring, open on one end, with two knobs on the edges. A smile curls his lips and he laughs. “This is a present for you.”

“According to the woman at the body jewelry shop, it’s a present for both of us.” I brush my finger over the head of his c**k and my cheeks heat. “Can I put it in?”

Jake shakes his head. “If I have to sit here while you touch my c**k with those soft hands, it will never happen.”

I touch him.

It doesn’t happen.

At least, not that night.

***

Heaven.

This is heaven. I look around my office and smile. The workmen finally finished the renovations on the extra rooms last week. Good-bye paint cans, dust, and plastic. Hello country-chic decor, bright windows, polished chandeliers, and reclaimed antique furniture.

Yes, I have a country chic law firm, from the mint green pie cupboard holding my files, to the chipped oak desk. Pastel prints of small French towns decorate the walls, and my white credenza holds a brand-new microwave, courtesy of Jake, and several framed pictures. Me and Jake on a boat ride across the Bay, the wind whipping my hair into a frenzy. The two of us with Max and Makayla at the racetrack. Penny, Ray, and I after one of Fuzzy’s classes. And even one with my parents and me on the official opening day of my new law firm, since I never really had one.

Claire, our new receptionist since Penny was promoted to PA, buzzes to let me know my new client has arrived for his five o’clock appointment and is waiting in the meeting room.

When I walk into the reception area, Ray looks over his newspaper and nods. After much hemming and hawing, he finally agreed to let me recover the Victorian couch but insisted on choosing the fabric. He looks very comfortable on the almost-identical beige print of leaves and flowers, and, for a moment, I am tempted to join him. My clients are used to him by now. They know not to sit in his seat or touch his coffee table.

“How was Get Fit or Die last night?”

Ray snorts a laugh. “Fuzz thought he could break me. End of the night, he was the one doing push-ups. Next week, I’m in that ring. Man joins an MMA gym to fight. Man like me, more. I’m not there to jump around, waving my hands in the air.”

Penny joins us from her office. “If you wanted to get out of Get Fit or Die, you should have done what I did: rip the head off Grapple Man and toss it at Fuzzy’s feet. Made him laugh so hard he was helpless to refuse my request to take Grunt ’n’ Grapple. I was on that mat faster than you can say psychopath. Got a good beating for it from Shayla.”

She holds up her makeup kit and gives me a wink. “Little touch-up before your meeting? Client is in his early to mid-thirties, well-dressed, hot, and has a housing issue.”

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