A Little Bit Naughty (5 page)

“Hello, I need to report an emergency,” she spoke into the phone.

“No!” Mason said with more force. He flinched, his headache mushrooming.

Jada pulled the phone from her mouth. “Are you sure?”

He attempted to nod. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” he said.

Mason tried to brace himself up on his elbows, but the sting that shot up his right arm had him grimacing and falling back onto the grass, the blades tickling him through his threadbare T-shirt.

He heard Jada apologize to the 911 operator. Seconds later, she was on her knees next to him, running her hand over his head.

“Do you think anything is broken?” She ran her palms over his shoulders and down his arms, her soft skin leaving a tingly sensation along his nerve-endings.

He did
not
need this. If she didn’t stop touching him, his baggy, nylon basketball shorts soon wouldn’t be able to camouflage the likely consequence of having her hands all over him.

“I’m so sorry, Mason. I swear I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I am so,
so
sorry.”

Mason cocked one eye open and peered up at her. “Am I really awake, or did I bump my head and knock myself unconscious?”

“Of course you’re awake,” she said. “Why would you ask that? Do you think you have a head injury or something?”

“I asked because you’re being nice to me.”

She rolled her eyes, and Mason felt a slight grin creeping up the corner of his mouth.

“Come on,” Jada said, hooking her arm around his uninjured elbow and lifting him up. “Let’s get you in the house and get these scrapes cleaned up.”

His first instinct was to tell her he could handle cleaning up the cuts on his own, but just these few minutes of her fussing over him had felt so good, he decided to keep his mouth shut. Mason allowed her to help him into the house, using the opportunity to inhale her light, clean scent. She smelled fresh, like cotton or baby powder or one of those other soft feminine smells. It was a lot better than he smelled after an afternoon of cleaning out gutters and doing yard work.

They went into his kitchen and Jada pulled out a chair at the small, round table in the breakfast nook.

She pointed at the chair. “Take a seat.”

Damn if she wasn’t bossy as hell.

Damn if he didn’t love that about her.

Mason sat and pinched the bridge of his nose, blowing out a frustrated breath. The irony of his long-standing attraction to this woman was both tragic and amusing. She was the
last
person he wanted to be attracted to, yet he’d been done for from the very first moment he’d spotted her walking into the library at Maplesville High.

She hadn’t noticed him, of course. Even though he was an upperclassmen, he’d been so far out of Jada’s league that he hadn’t rated a passing glance. Mason had often wondered over the years if she would have
ever
noticed him if not for her friendship with Kiera.

The only thing that surpassed his attraction to her was the utter resentment he harbored toward her for never seeing him as anything other than Kiera's older brother. He resented her for feeding into the stereotypes he abhorred; the popular cheerleader marrying the dumb, rich jock. Most of all, he resented the fact that when he was around her she made him feel like that introverted kid who couldn’t possibly catch the eye of a girl like her.

But he wasn’t that kid anymore. And over the years he’d managed to catch more than just the eye of women who were just as beautiful as Jada. Maybe now that she’d finally seen Eric for the asshole he had been since birth, she could open her eyes to the possibility of being with someone like him.

Being with someone like him?

Mason ran his hands down his face.

What in the hell was the matter with him? He’d gotten over his infatuation with her a long time ago. He did
not
want Jada Dangerfield.

“Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?” she asked.

It was one thing not to have her barking at him, but to hear actual concern in her voice? That had to be the reason all these old feelings were resurfacing.

“I told you I’m fine,” Mason said.

She grabbed the dishtowel he’d left on the counter and folded it. Then she gently lifted his arm, slid the towel underneath, and placed his arm on it. Mason couldn’t tear his eyes away from her delicate fingers as she handled him with such care.

 She shrugged out of the jacket of the charcoal gray suit she wore and hung it on the back of a chair. Then she put her hands on her hips. “You’re Mr. Responsible, so I know you have a first aid kit somewhere.”

Resigning himself to the fact that she seemed determined to help him, he nodded toward the walk-in pantry. “Second shelf from the top.”

She turned toward the pantry and his eyes went straight for her ass. The slim skirt hit just below her knees. The conservative length didn’t show off her legs as much as he would have liked, but the way the material hugged her backside more than made up for it.

Her body had held a prominent place in his fantasies back when they were in high school, especially during football season, when she ran around town in that sexy cheerleader uniform. It used to hug her petite frame perfectly, flowing just right over her curves.

He’d come home one weekend, back when he was an undergrad, to find that the squad had switched to uniforms that bared her midriff. Mason had made the trip home every Friday after that, and not because he gave a damn about the football team.

As she stood up on her toes searching for the first aid kit, the skirt rode up ever so slightly, and the appendage in his lap twitched to life.

 “Oh, you are so busted, Mason Coleman.”

Mason’s eyes flew to his lap. He looked back up at her just as she turned, holding a pack of Little Debbie brownies.

“You’ve got jars of protein powder, flax seeds, and all that other healthy crap, but it’s all just a front, isn’t it?”

“What can I say?” Mason said with a shrug. “I’ve got a weakness for Little Debbie. She knows exactly what it takes to please a man.”

Jada’s laughter echoed around the kitchen. She brought the box of brownies, along with the first aid kit, back to the table. “If you don’t whine like a baby while I clean those scrapes, you can have a brownie as a reward.”

His brows lifted.

“I’m not completely evil,” she said.

“I never said you were,” Mason replied.

One corner of her mouth lifted in a grin as she took the seat at a right angle to his. Her normally wavy hair was straight, and falling just past her shoulders. It matched the severe look of the suit.

“Let’s take a look at this,” she said, reaching for his arm. She inspected the scrape, which still stung to high heaven. “It doesn’t look too bad. I’ve seen worse.”

“Really? Where?”

Jada popped open the latch on the first aid kit and took out several packets of wrapped gauze, alcohol wipes, and antibiotic ointment. “Don’t tell anyone this,” she said. “But I’m just a tad bit of a klutz.”

“Nah, you?” Mason said in feigned surprise. “I had to patch up the hole you made in Kiera’s bedroom wall when you all were trying to learn the dance from that stupid movie, remember?”

Her brilliant brown eyes lit up with laughter. “Oh my, God. I’d forgotten all about that.”

“Ouch,” Mason hissed as she dabbed the cut with an alcohol wipe.

“Sorry,” Jada said. She leaned forward and gently blew his roughed up skin, and the arousal he’d been trying to stave off came roaring back to life. “Better?” she asked.

He nodded, and after swallowing past the knot of lust wedged in his throat, said, “Much.”

Neither of them moved as their eyes locked, time suspending for just a moment. There was a charge in the air that traveled along his skin, making it pebble with goose bumps despite the heat coursing through his bloodstream.

Jada was the first to look away, shaking her head and expelling a breathy laugh.

“You know, my klutziness went far beyond getting my foot stuck in Kiera’s wall,” she said. “I’m surprised I didn’t land in the hospital. Although, I did come close.” She looked up at him, her latte-colored cheeks turning a shade of pink. “At the homecoming game my junior year, I broke my wrist doing a cartwheel, but I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to miss the end of the game.”

He couldn’t avoid the cynical hitch of his brows.

“Hey, homecoming was important,” she defended. “The team needed us.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Mason said.

“You were about to.”

Yes, he was. His aversion to the girl she’d been back then, and all she’d represented, was so strong it was still hard to shake it, even after all these years. It was unfair to hold it against her. Being one of the most beautiful, popular girls in school wasn’t a crime.

“I was going to say that you were pretty brave,” Mason said instead. “The Maplesville Mustangs were lucky to have you cheering them on.”

Her look was guarded, but she only said, “Thank you,” before returning her attention to his arm. She cleaned out the bits of dirt and grass and applied a generous amount of antibiotic ointment before covering it with a piece of gauze and applying white tape to all four sides.

“All done,” she said, giving the bandage one final pat. She started to pull her hand away, but Mason stopped her, capturing her wrist with his other hand.

Jada looked up at him, her eyes filled with…what? Curiosity? Interest? He wasn’t sure yet, all he knew was that it didn’t hold the disdain he usually got from her.

“Thank you,” Mason said, his voice suddenly hoarse with the want gripping him.

“It was the least I could do,” she replied with an equally husky quality to her voice. She cleared her throat. “After all, I’m the one who caused you to fall.”

Mason shook his head as he leaned in a touch closer. “It was an accident.”

Jada’s eyes dropped to his lips. Her chest rose and fell with each breath she took as she stared at him. Mason edged forward, closing the space between them.

The shrill of her cell phone broke the silence.

They both jumped. Jada hopped up from the chair, fumbling the phone as she tried to answer it.

“Hello?” she answered. “Hello? Kiera?”

Mason slouched back in his chair. “The service isn’t good in here,” he muttered, running his hand down his face.

 Jada held the phone to one ear and covered the other with her free hand.

“Yes, I got in,” she said. She glanced at him. “Mason was here. Look, Kiera, I’ll call you in a minute, once I’m in a better service area.” A pause, then, “Okay, bye.”

She ended the call and looked over at him. “That was Kiera,” she said unnecessarily. She pulled in a deep breath. “I should get going.”

Mason nodded. The wad of pent-up lust clogging his windpipe just dared him to try to get a word out.

“Okay, uh. Bye,” Jada said with a jerky wave. She rushed out of the kitchen like the house was on fire.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Mason ambled over to the front door so he could lock it behind her.

Just as he approached, it swung open again, and Jada came inside, carrying two plastic shopping bags. “I forgot these outside. They’re decorations for Kiera’s party.”

She set the bags on the floor and did an about-face. She closed the door behind her, then a second later, came back inside.

“I forgot my jacket,” she said, marching past him into the kitchen, returning with her suit jacket. “Tell Kiera I’ll talk to her later.” She shook her head. “What am I saying? I can call her myself.”

The nervous laugh that fluttered from her was as telling as anything else. When had he ever seen Jada flustered? The fact that
he
was the one who’d put her in this state caused a ripple of satisfaction to course down his spine.

She turned with her hand on the door handle. “Try not to get that bandage wet.”

Mason nodded. “Thanks again for tending to me.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. Then, with an overly-bright smile, she walked out.

Mason stood just inside the doorway, watching as she got in her car and drove away. He knew he would spend the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out just what in the hell had happened these past twenty minutes. He wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up to discover that he really had bumped his head, and the moment that passed between them at his kitchen table had been nothing but a dream.

Because only in his wildest dreams had he ever been so close to laying his lips on Jada Dangerfield’s.

Chapter Four

“Now, ladies, if you want to take naughty to a new level, you may want to consider the ‘Spank Me’ package.” Jada held up the black satin sashes and blindfold, along with the rubber-tipped crop.

“I don’t know. I bruise easily,” one of the women said. “Now, if I can use this on my husband we just might have a deal.”

Jada sliced through the air with the crop a few times. “The ‘Spank Me’ package knows no gender,” she said, setting off a round of whoops, hollers and catcalls.

She set the crop on the table and picked up the straps of the swing. “If you’re feeling
really
adventurous, the Naughty Swing will definitely put some spice back into your life.”

“What in the world do you do with that?” another of the guests asked.

“It hangs from the doorframe and makes it possible to get into a number of positions,” Jada answered.

The woman who had introduced herself as the hostess’s sister raised her hand. “I can attest to this one. I have it and it does wonders.”

“Oh shut up, Valencia,” another said. “You have just about everything she’s pointed out. I always knew you were a freak.”

“Don’t hate,” Valencia said before wrapping her lips around a penis-shaped straw and sipping her mojito.

“What about this?” Another woman asked, holding up the canister of warming gel.

“This is one of our many sexual enhancement gels,” Jada answered. She went into her practiced spiel, describing what each gel provided, and answering questions about their safety.