Bad Boy Valentine (2 page)

He’d taken command, but she was the one with all the power. She’d become a master of his body too, and after years of practice, she knew
exactly
how he liked it, exactly how to make him come. She fisted the base of his cock, stroking him with a firm, wet grip as he slid the tip in and out of her eager mouth.

She hummed with pleasure, the contractions of her throat threatening to send him into bliss. But then he pulled out of her mouth and leaned back on his heels, his eyes clenched shut. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and Kate could tell he was trying to talk himself down, talk himself out of coming.

But Kate wasn’t done with him. Not until she’d driven him over the edge, felt the hot slide of his release down her throat, the tremble in his legs as he emptied himself fully.

She slid her hands up his thighs, the denim scratchy against her palms, and leaned forward onto her knees, lowering her mouth over his perfect cock.

Jagger stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him through the tangle of her messy blond hair.

The look in his eyes was pure fire.

“Change of plans,” he said. “I don’t want you in bed. I want you standing up, right against that wall. Now.”

J
agger stood
in front of the window, desperately trying not to come all over himself as he watched Kate slink toward him from the bed. He was already twenty minutes late for Rage, but fuck it; his woman had him so damn hard, he could barely stand up straight, let alone get on his bike or do anything else that Rage needed done tonight.

Fuck what that dude needed. Right now was all about Kate and Jagger, and what they
both
needed was for Jagger to be balls deep inside that divine pussy.

“What are you thinking about,” Kate whispered, her eyes bright. She moved like a cat, graceful and sure, every inch of her gorgeous and damn near glowing.

The sweet, earthy taste of her was still fresh on Jagger’s tongue when he replied. “Thinking about how hard I’m gonna fuck you. How hard I’m gonna make you come again.”

“Ooh. Tell me more.” With a soft smile, she slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her naked body against him. Her tight little nipples poked through his T-shirt, making his dick throb.

He grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her closer, his cock pressing into her stomach, ready and eager. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

“Perhaps,” she teased, bringing her lips to his neck. “But hopefully not tonight. Not after all those promises you just made. Something about fucking me hard against the wall?”

Jagger closed his eyes, losing himself in the pleasure of her mouth on his skin. She bit him lightly, then sucked, working her way up to his jaw, to his ear, her every touch making him harder.

Jesus fuck.

Holding her in his arms, inhaling her spicy cinnamon scent, feeling her heartbeat against his, Jagger was hit with a single thought.

She’s everything I need. And she’s right fuckin’ here.

He didn’t need some deep, profound epiphany to tell him that leaving her tonight was a bad idea. But what else could he do? Rage had brought him in on this gig, vouched for him. He was counting on Jagger. And for better or worse, Jagger never broke a fuckin’ promise.

Guilt surged up inside him, but he shoved it down deep, burying it. That shit was as pointless as regret. What was done was done. He’d made a deal, he’d hold up his end of it, he’d collect his fee. Beyond that, he didn’t want to think about it.

He wanted to be inside her. Now.

He grabbed Kate by the shoulders and spun her around quick, pinning her against the bedroom wall. His hands ran down her thighs, squeezing her flesh as he growled in her ear.

“I love the way you suck me,” he said. “But even more than that, I love being inside your tight little pussy.”

She gasped in pleasure, her naked body covered in goose bumps.

“Is this how you want it?” Jagger fisted her hair and tugged, tilting her head sideways to expose the long column of her throat. He clamped down on her neck from behind, biting her sensitive skin as she moaned. “Hot and dirty against the wall, the neighbors sleeping just on the other side, no idea that their sweet little cookie-baking Katie-bug is a crazy sex fiend?”

Kate laughed, a breathy sound that quickly turned into another moan as Jagger continued to work his mouth over her skin, teasing her with his tongue, his teeth, his breath.

“Yes,” she panted. “This is how I want it.”

He wrapped an arm around her chest, pulling her even closer against his chest. Even if she’d wanted to escape his hold, she couldn’t—he was too strong.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you this time, Kit-Kat. You want me to come in under a minute? Then I’m taking that pussy hard and fast.”

“Yes,” she gasped.

Jagger spread her thighs with his knee, one arm still clamped around her chest, his other hand sliding down his pants.

He grabbed his cock, thick and heavy and desperate to fuck. He rubbed it against her soft, juicy ass, but
fuck,
there wasn’t enough time for that tonight. She arched her back to give him access to her pussy, begging him to take her. Her hunger drove him crazy, completely unraveling him. There was no more teasing, no more foreplay. He was damn near out of his mind for her.

He took her in a single stroke, sinking in deep as she pushed back from the wall to meet him, urging him to fill her completely. She was so hot, so slippery, their bodies melding together like always. He’d never been with a woman like Kate. It had always been easy between them, natural, no bullshit—at least not when it came to sex. They just fuckin’
fit
.

Burying his nose in her hair, Jagger let out a low growl. He tightened his grip around her shoulders and fucked her harder,
harder
, slamming against her ass, driving deep inside her willing flesh as her pussy gripped his cock. He loved the feel of her on his bare flesh, the heat, the wet slide of it; thank God she was on the pill. His belt buckle jingled against his thigh, his pants sliding halfway down as he rocked her, not giving a rat’s ass about
who
they woke up next door.

He’d already made Kate come with his mouth, but he could tell she was ready for more, her pussy clenching around him, hot and eager.

He slid his hand over her hip, across her flat stomach, down through the soft hair between her thighs. She opened her legs wider, guiding his hand, and instantly his fingers found her clit, a tight, hard bundle just aching to be stroked.

He grazed it with his fingers, soft at first, slowing his thrusts to give her a second to breathe.

Kate moaned, her legs just starting to tremble. “Don’t stop. Please, Jagger. Hard. I want it hard.”

“I’ll bet you do, dirty girl,” he teased, increasing the pressure on her clit. He couldn’t believe she was ready to come again; Kate usually took time to recover, time to build back up again. But now that he had her on the edge for the second time in half an hour, he wasn’t about to let the moment pass without seeing it all the way through.

It wasn’t very often they could get there at the same time, but that’s exactly how shit was going down tonight.

Rubbing her clit, he lowered his other hand to her breast, rolling her stiff nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Burying his face in her hair, he bit her neck again, tracing a path to her ear with his tongue.

Damn,
he loved making her squirm.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathed, stroking her clit faster, filling her up again and again with his throbbing cock. The friction between them, the heat…

Fuck, yeah.

Kate sucked in a deep breath and held it. He felt her walls tremble around him, her muscles going rigid in anticipation, and then she clenched him hard and tight. His balls tightened, and then…

“Fuck! Kate!” Jagger exploded inside her, and then Kate let out an animal cry of pure ecstasy, her body thrashing wildly in his arms. She bit his forearm and clamped down hard, her teeth digging into the soft leather as she rode out her orgasm, and Jagger emptied himself inside her, barely keeping his own feral cries in check.

They were fucking
wolves
, wild and hot, both running on pure instinct until they had absolutely nothing left to give.

Totally spent, Jagger pressed against her, his forehead resting on her bare shoulder as he waited for the inevitable giggles. It was so fucking weird and adorable—he loved hearing that laugh. Feeling it erupt from her body like another orgasm, making her tremble and glow.

He kissed her skin, licking the salty taste of her from his lips.

There was nothing he didn’t love about Kate Molina.

The sooner you get out of here, the sooner you can get back home to her.

Holding back a sigh, Jagger bent down to yank up his pants.

“Baby,” he whispered, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m sorry. I really gotta go.”

She turned around and faced him, balling the edge of his T-shirt in her fists. The fabric was damp, evidence of their intense pleasure.

“Don’t go,” she said. Her voice was suddenly frantic, scared. “Stay with me. Call them and tell them you’re sick or something.”

Jagger shook his head, smoothing the wrinkle between her eyes with the heel of his hand. “What’s wrong? Why are you so worked up tonight?”

“I just… I can’t explain it. I have a bad feeling. I just don’t want you to go.”

I don’t want me to go either.

“I know it’s crazy,” she said, shivering in the moonlight. “But I just have this feeling, like… like, if you leave, you won’t come back.”

Fuck
. All he wanted was to wrap her up in his arms and drag her back into that bed, make love to her until they were raw and helpless and the damn sun rose. But Rage had brought him in on this, and Jagger couldn’t back out now.

He
needed
this. He and Kate
both
did.

He’d shielded Kate from the reality of their situation for months, but the truth was, they were broke. Three months behind on rent, living in that tiny one-bedroom apartment only by the dwindling grace of the landlady, an old friend of Jagger’s uncle. The utilities were days away from being shut off. Who knew how much longer he could even put food on the table.

But if things worked out tonight, they’d have a little breathing room. Do this one job for Rage, collect his five grand, and Jagger could get back on his feet again. Next time, he’d make better choices. Plan better. Take on more work for his uncle. But for now, this was the end of the line.

He hated the idea, but he was out of options.

Jagger traced her lips with the pad of his thumb, his heart warring with his head. He hated making her worry like this, hated himself for putting those tears in her eyes.

Jagger sighed. It was a small price to pay. He wanted to marry Kate, spend the rest of his life making her happy, but he couldn’t ask her to marry him now—not until he got his shit together.

Starting tonight.

“Don’t cry. Everything is fine.” He lowered his head and kissed her mouth, soft but deep, until he finally felt her relax.

“Promise you’ll be back soon?” She looped her arms around his neck and offered a small smile, and Jagger sighed with relief, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. But then the damn phone in his jacket pocket buzzed, and all that fragile peace evaporated.

“You should go, then.” Kate unhooked her arms and took a step back. “Don’t want to keep the great
Rage
waiting.”

“Bake me some of those chai cookies,” he said, ignoring the jab. “I’ll be back in time to eat them before they even get cold.”

“But you—”

He cut her off with a kiss. Had to. One more word, and she’d convince him to bail on Rage tonight. Then where would they be?

Out on the street, asshole. Man up and do this. One job. One and done.

Jagger finally turned away from her and fished out his phone. No more screwing around. He sent Rage a quick text, then pulled the bike keys from his pocket. “Kate.”

He turned to look at her, but she didn’t respond. Wouldn’t even look at him.

Jagger grabbed her chin and tilted her face up to his, waiting until she finally met his eyes. He stared at her hard, memorizing every shade of blue in her eyes, every freckle on her nose.

“I’ll be right back, Kit-Kat,” he said firmly. “That’s a promise.”

“
H
e’s blowing me off
.”

Tucked into her favorite window booth at the front of Sweet Bliss Bakery and Café, Kate Molina stared at her phone, confirming what she already knew. The guy was an hour late, and he hadn’t even bothered to text.

“He’ll be here,” Georgie said. “Stop worrying.”

“Why are they all so freaking unreliable?”

Kate’s best friend glared at her over the rim of her coffee mug, barely suppressing a snort. “Why do you keep chasing them off?”

“I don’t keep—”

“You totally do.”

Kate sank deeper into the black pleather booth and dropped her head into her hands, massaging her temples. Georgie was right—she
had
been chasing them off. One by one, she’d watched them come into her Woodside, Queens café with their saw horses and gear boxes, tool belts slung across their hips, boots coated in sawdust. And one by one she’d watched them leave, telling her off and slamming the door behind them, never to return.

It was like this weird, sudden compulsion. Normally she was pretty perky—a big reason her clientele kept coming back for more of her hand-crafted pastries and coffee drinks, each and every one served with a genuine smile. But the renovation project on her café had somehow turned Kate into a raging, unapologetic, uncompromising bitch.

Because they all remind you of—

No. She shut down that line of thinking before it had a chance to take hold. Her ex had nothing to do with it—getting him out of her life in her early twenties had paved the way for everything she’d built since, including the café.

No, her mood swings were simply because of stress. The contractor who’d stormed out that morning was the fifth to quit in as many weeks, and Kate needed the expansion finished
yesterday
. Two months ago, she’d beaten out a hundred other regional cafes—including some of Manhattan’s most famous—in a bid to host LoveLink, the inaugural Valentine’s Day dating event for FierceConnect, a multinational social gaming platform whose creators saw the matchmaking potential in live local events geared specifically toward gamers looking for love. The idea had already garnered tons of positive press. If the calls to the bakery were any indication, people would be lining up around the block to get in. Bakery sales would be through the roof. The event would be broadcast, webcast, podcast, and every other -cast imaginable.

And it was happening in less than two weeks.

“I’m losing my mind,” she said, ignoring Georgie’s eye-roll. “One soy mocha latte at a time.”

By all accounts, Sweet Bliss was already a success story—Kate had worked her ass off building it from the ground up, and though she still owed a ton on her business loans and building mortgage, the café had started turning a small profit after just one year, and had been steadily growing ever since, three years and counting now.

But LoveLink? That event was
guaranteed
to put her on the map in a huge way.

The question was—would it be a
good
huge way, or a total disaster?

Her eyes skimmed over the bright blue tarps hanging on the walls at the back of the store, not quite hiding panels of drywall and bare wooden studs.

Total disaster. Obviously.

Kate was close to tears. The guy had left in such a huff, he hadn’t even bothered to clean up his mess. The café would be open for the morning commuters in less than an hour, and there were two-by-fours and paint rollers all over the place. It looked like a tornado had torn through Home Depot, then dropped everything here. Then exploded.

“What was I thinking?” she asked.

“You’re freaking out. It’s worse when you freak out.” Georgie nudged Kate’s foot beneath the table and offered a supportive smile. In addition to being her best friend and number one Sweet Bliss fan club member, Georgie was also her web designer; they were supposed to be meeting to finalize the online promotions for the event, but that was before the contractor incident.

“Valentine’s Day has to be a success,” Kate said. “I can’t risk—”

“Kate.” Georgie grabbed her arm across the table, giving her a squeeze. “It
will
be a success. You could have the event today, construction zone and all, and everyone would still love it. Everyone loves
you
.” Georgie beamed, her endless encouragement bolstering Kate, despite the turn of events. “You just need to breathe. And relax. And stop scaring off the hired help—especially the hot ones. What is
wrong
with you, woman? Don’t you
want
to get laid for Valentine’s Day?”

“No thanks.” Kate rested her cheek on the table. “Am I really that impossible?”

Georgie pulled one of her red curls across her lips and lowered her eyes, not answering.

Kate tried not to cringe. “Why can’t they just—”

“Hammer more quietly?” Georgie wrinkled her nose, parroting the last words Kate had shouted at the contractor just before he’d stormed out that morning. “All I’m saying is… try to go easy on the next guy. He might just be the last.”

“Assuming he shows up.” After today’s guy had left, she’d debated calling a new contracting company, but at this late stage, it was unlikely she’d find anyone to take on the work with her tight budget and deadline. So she’d done the next best thing: called the guy’s manager to grovel.

After ten minutes of begging, and adding in an extra five hundred bucks and the promise of free pastries for a week, she’d convinced the manager to send her a different contractor. “The new guy,” the man had said. “He’s all I got. Take it or leave it.”

Not like she had a choice.

“Hey,” Georgie said. “I’m serious. Let them do their job, and it’ll be done before you know it. Come on, you need to focus on these promos. I’m leaving for Colorado Tuesday and I won’t be able to work on it much after that.”

“I’ll bet.” Kate gave Georgie a conspiratorial grin, enjoying the sweet blush that flooded her friend’s cheeks. “And how
is
Ronan, anyway?”

Georgie had crashed into Ronan’s life—quite literally—on a trip to Colorado over Christmas, and the girl had been floating along on cloud nine ever since, spending so much time in the Rockies that Kate was lucky to get an appointment with her in New York this week.

Georgie pressed a hand to her heart and sighed happily.

“That good, huh?” Kate got up to refill their lattes.

“You have
no
idea.”

Over the whir of the cappuccino machine, Georgie chattered a mile-a-minute about her upcoming plans. She and Ronan would be hiking into the backcountry, camping out in the snow. Definitely not Kate’s idea of a good time, but Georgie was practically vibrating with excitement. Kate couldn’t blame her—Ronan was sexy as hell, and he
adored
Georgie. Meeting him had been so good for her.

Kate’s heart squeezed, just a tiny bit. She was so happy for her friend, but prolonged talk of romantic trips and passionate kisses always left her with a dull ache inside, poking at painful memories that should’ve been long gone by now.

She’d tried to move on like a healthy, normal, non-obsessive person. But dating certainly hadn’t helped. Yoga hadn’t helped. Knitting, bar-hopping, learning French, spending more time with Georgie and her other friends… none of that had helped. All she had was her work, and she’d been pouring herself into that for almost a decade—working out of her Gran’s apartment for years before she got the bakery—wondering when the day would come that she’d finally get her spark back. Finally feel that pulse of energy inside, that inner fire that seemed to burn for only one man, no matter how long ago he’d walked out of her life.

You are so much better off without him.

The words echoed in Kate’s head, her own personal mantra. She’d repeated them so many times in front of her bathroom mirror, but no matter how often she’d said them—no matter how much the evidence pointed to the truth in those words—she could never make herself believe them.

Putting her smile back into place, Kate loaded up a tray with their lattes and a plate of black-and-white cookies she’d made that morning, and headed back to the table.

“What do you think about these images?” Georgie flipped her iPad around to show Kate a few different comps for the final online ad campaign they’d launch this weekend. Kate picked out her favorites and made a few suggestions while Georgie took notes. Unlike Kate’s contractors, Georgie was a total pro, and Kate had no doubt that she and her designers would knock the campaign out of the park. That part, at least, she didn’t have to worry about.

As they finished going over the designs and finishing up their lattes, a dingy white van maneuvered into a parking spot along the curb, just outside the front door. CALLAGHAN & SONS was painted on the side, the letters cracked and peeling.

“See?” Georgie smiled, sweeping her iPad and files into her bag and rising from the booth. “Told you he’d show up. Perfect timing, too. I’m all set.”

“
Late
timing. I’m opening for customers in twenty minutes. I don’t have time to hold any hands today.”

“Go easy, remember? And breathe.” Georgie leaned down and kissed Kate’s cheek. “Text me later if you need anything. I’ll get the revised comps over to you tomorrow for final approval, then we should be good to go.”

Kate got up to clear the table, she and Georgie peering briefly out the window to watch the contractor got out of the van.

“Yum,” Georgie said. “This one looks
mighty
fine.”

“Too bad I’m not hiring him for his looks.” Kate rolled her eyes and headed for the counter with the dirty dishes. “Have fun in the Rockies.”

“You know I will, girl.”

“Text me some pictures.”

“Ha! Maybe if we take any G-rated ones.” Georgie laughed as she pushed open the door. “See you soon.”

“Safe travels,” Kate called out. “Safe sexcapades.”

“You, too,” Georgie said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Left a little something in your purse, just in case.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Cute. Real cute.”

Georgie was always leaving condoms in Kate’s purse. In the register drawer. In Kate’s bathroom cabinet at home. Kate never needed them—she’d even gone off the pill years ago when it became clear that her sex life wouldn’t be resurrected anytime this century—but Georgie was an eternal optimist.

Smiling at her friend’s antics, Kate watched Georgie step off the curb and cross the street, flagging down a yellow cab. Mr. Fix-It out there was still struggling to get his shit together.

Late
and
disorganized. Great.

Kate took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, the last shred of her patience evaporating. Cute or not, the man was obviously
completely
incompetent, and Kate needed to let him know who was boss, straightaway.

He finally slammed the van door shut, turning toward the door with a large toolbox in his hand, his chestnut hair gleaming in the sun like a shampoo commercial.

And then, without warning, the world just… stopped.

Stopped spinning.

Stopped moving.

Stopped existing.

Kate’s heart leapt up into her throat, everything inside squeezing into a tight, painful knot. All of Georgie’s advice flew out the window. Kate couldn’t even breathe.

The man hadn’t met her gaze yet, but it didn’t matter. Even without seeing his eyes, she
knew
. She knew the thick, corded muscles of those arms, the hard angle of that jaw, the long slope of neck as it connected with shoulder in a spot she still had deliciously erotic dreams about biting. She knew every line, every curve, all the shapes and edges and spaces that composed him as well as she knew her favorite cookie recipe, and time had done nothing to dull those memories.

The man was walking toward the front door of her café, shaking the wavy hair out of his eyes, reaching for the doorknob. Any second now, he’d come crashing into her life.

And no matter what happened after that, nothing would ever be the same.

Kate dashed behind the counter, her legs suddenly weak.

Jagger Barnes…

But that just wasn’t—
couldn’t be
—possible.

Jagger Barnes was in prison.