Bad Boy Valentine (7 page)

“
T
his one is
my absolute
favorite
,” Kate said, picking up a plate of frosted, heart-shaped cupcakes. “To die for.”

She was sitting on the huge stainless steel countertop in the kitchen, her legs dangling over the edge, the whole place littered with containers of half-eaten baked goods.

After showing him around, Kate had raided the fridge, eager to give him a tasting tour of her latest concoctions. The whole place smelled clean and sugary-sweet, warm. Pure, unadulterated Kate.

“Gingerbread Bliss,” she explained, “with cream cheese frosting, whipped until it’s light as air.”

He watched her take a bite of the cupcake, her eyes closing as she moaned in pleasure.

The sound went straight to his dick.

Jagger felt like a damn voyeur, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her mouth, his cock standing at attention, straining against his pants.

“You don’t want to try it?” She waved him closer and held the other half of her cupcake to his lips, her hand shaking slightly—the only indication that she was as nervous as he was.

There was a tiny smudge of icing on the corner of her mouth, and Jagger couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t stop imagining what it would feel like to lower his mouth to hers and lick that spot clean.

“Here,” she said, sliding it between his lips.

Jagger took the whole thing into his mouth, his lips brushing her fingertips.

He couldn’t take it, not for another minute. They’d been dancing around their attraction all night, and if he didn’t make a move soon, the whole room—or at least his pants—would go up in flames.

“See?” she said. Her voice was trembling now. “The cream cheese
literally
melts in your mouth, right?”

He swallowed it, then stepped between her legs, still dangling over the edge of the counter.

The heat between them simmered, threatening to boil over.

Jagger put his arms down on either side of her hips, caging her in.

“
Literally
?” he whispered.

“Literally.” Her chest rose and fell in quick, short bursts.

Jagger leaned in close, so close he could smell the sweet frosting on her breath. “I’d rather make
you
melt in my mouth, Kit-Kat.”

Kate gasped, and before he could talk himself out of it, Jagger claimed her mouth in a vicious kiss. She resisted for half a heartbeat, then gave in, opening her mouth with another soft moan that made his balls tighten. She bit his lip, then sucked on it, and holy fuck, he was gone.

She tasted like ginger and cinnamon, like heat and fresh air and sweetness and everything he’d been fantasizing about—everything that’d kept him fucking
alive
—for eight years.

He slid his hands up her back, tangling them into her silky-soft hair as he kissed her harder, deeper. She leaned into him, wrapping her legs around his hips, her short nails grazing his shoulders, his arms.

Jagger kissed her until his lips were swollen and hot, then he pulled away, dragging his mouth down her chin, her neck, her chest. When he got to her firm, perfect tits, he took one in his hand, and then bit her nipple through her shirt.

Kate gasped in pleasure, tightening her legs around him.

Fuck. This shirt needs to be
gone
.

She’d changed into a flannel button-down just before their bike ride, and now Jagger fisted the soft fabric and tore it open, buttons scattering all over the countertop and floor.

“I see you still haven’t learned the art of restraint,” she teased, pulling back to meet his eyes. “You’ve always wanted to have your cake and eat it, too.”

“Fuck cake.” Jagger was panting hard, his hands still fisting the fabric of her shirt. “The only thing I’m eating tonight is you.”

She was wearing a black lace bra that pushed her tits together—an invitation he couldn’t refuse. He lowered his face to her cleavage, running his tongue from one soft mound to the other, his thumbs sliding over the lace that barely covered her stiff nipples.

Her skin was like warm honey on his tongue, soft and sweet. With his tongue, he traced a line down to her stomach, swirling around her bellybutton as he slid a hand between her thighs and cupped her, nearly losing his mind as she rocked against his hand, her heat radiating through the thick denim. He could only imagine how wet she was for him, how fucking slippery.

Fuck, he wanted to drop to his knees, tear off her jeans, and bury his tongue so deep in that pussy he’d never get the fucking taste of her out of his mouth.

“Unless you tell me to stop right now,” he panted, “I’m taking you right here, tonight, piece by piece. I’ll start with these tits, bite you until you’re red and raw, begging me to stop. Then I’m gonna get on my knees, grab your thighs, and eat that pussy until you’re screaming so loud you wake up all the assholes sleeping on the seven train. And if you’re still conscious after all that, I’m gonna turn you around, bend you over this counter, and fuck you so hard you’ll need to be carried out of here on a goddamn stretcher.”

The sound that escaped her mouth was practically inhuman, a cross between a whimper and a groan, her body melting beneath his touch.

“So what’s it gonna be, Kit-Kat.” He squeezed her through the jeans, his mouth watering in anticipation as she arched into his touch. “You showed me all your favorite flavors. Do I get to taste
my
favorite flavor now?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

And after eight years, that was all the answer Jagger needed.

W
hat the hell
are you doing, Kate Molina?

The voices in her head were loud and many—Gran’s, who was probably still cursing Jagger from the grave. Georgie’s. Even her own.

But Kate silenced them all. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. She knew it was a bad idea, knew she was careening toward heartache again, but she was beyond caring—at least for tonight.

Tomorrow, she’d go back to real life. Jagger would have to work even harder to make up for the lost time on the renovations today. She’d have to work harder to catch up on baking, on doing inventory, on stocking up for the event.

But tonight, she’d firmly decided, was for fantasies.

She shoved aside her feelings, her doubts, her warnings, her broken-hearted memories, and let her body take over.

And what her body wanted was Jagger.

Right here, right now, just like he’d said.

He’d feasted on her tits, sucking them hard through her bra, tonguing her flesh until she ached. Now he was touching her through her jeans, teasing her, whispering against her throat about how badly he wanted to taste her.

“Please,” she said, rocking against his hand. She didn’t want his fingers. She wanted his mouth. His perfect cock. All of it.

With a wicked grin, Jagger finally lowered his face to her thighs, biting her through her jeans, the heat and pressure driving her wild.

Kate reached for the button on her jeans, desperate to get out of them, but Jagger grabbed her wrists.

“This is
my
cake,” he said. “I’ll eat it my way.”

Every last one of her reservations melted away, her body taking over. It was a terrible idea—the worst—but holy hell, she
wanted
him. Now.

“Hope you’re okay with that,” he growled. The vibration of his voice, so close to her clit, sent a shock of awareness straight to her core.

Okay
with it? She hadn’t had a
proper
orgasm since… God, since—mortifyingly—the last time they were together. If he didn’t make her come—and soon—she would seriously implode.

She wanted to tell him as much, but she’d somehow forgotten how to form words.

“Lie back.” Jagger squeezed her legs, thumbs grinding into her inner thighs as he inhaled her through her jeans. She was powerless to resist him, desperate to obey his every command.

She leaned back against the counter, the stainless steel a shock of cold on her bare shoulders and back, the whole room glowing with no more than the dim light above the ovens. Jagger stood between her legs, kissing her ribs, her stomach, his hands running up and down her thighs with hot, teasing strokes.

His soft hair fell forward in front of his face, tickling the sensitive skin on her stomach, begging to be touched. Kate slid her fingers into it and closed her eyes, remembering the silky feel of his hair as she’d held him between her thighs all those nights, all those years ago.

As she pulled him closer, Jagger slid his tongue down her stomach, licking her along the waistband of her jeans. Slowly, deliberately, he unbuttoned her jeans and lowered the zipper, tooth by tooth, finally exposing the silk triangle of her panties.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said, sliding her jeans off her hips. He dropped them to the floor, leaving her spread out on the countertop in nothing but her undergarments. “So sweet.”

Jagger pressed his face to the silky fabric, tonguing her clit, soaking her panties until she could no longer tell where her wetness ended and his began.

The panties were her favorite pair, but suddenly she resented them with the white-hot blaze of a thousand suns. She wanted them gone, leaving nothing between her flesh and the deep, delicious heat of Jagger’s expert tongue.

Just when she couldn’t take another second of his teasing, Jagger finally hooked his thumbs through the lace that stretched over her hip bones and tugged hard, snapping the elastic and yanking the panties from her body.

“Open your legs,” he growled, his words practically slurring. He was drugged, high on Kate’s scent, her taste, the blissed-out look in his eyes making her even wetter. As she spread her thighs for him, he slipped his hands beneath her ass, cupping her and drawing her closer, lowering his mouth to her body once again.

Ohmygod.

His kiss on her aching flesh was pure ecstasy. Hot, slippery, mind-erasing ecstasy.

“Jagger,” she whispered, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, her hands fisting his hair. Her whole body superheated with the pleasure of his touch.

Just like he always had, Jagger took his time with Kate, worshipping her flesh with his tongue, his lips, his breath. The scratchy feel of his stubble against her thighs made her so wild she almost came twice from that alone, but every time she got close, he pulled back, drawing out her pleasure, devouring her one kiss, one lick, one breath at a time.

Orgasms had always been tricky for Kate. She could get there herself on occasion, but even that took a lot of concentration, a lot of fantasizing, and the results were never anything to brag about. She hadn’t slept with anyone since Jagger, but she’d gone on a few dates, fooled around with a few guys, none of which had managed to give her even a single tremor.

But Jagger? He seemed wired to please her. He knew her hot buttons, her limits, and he worked them with an expert touch. Despite the time and the distance, he hadn’t forgotten a single thing.

The sensation of his tongue on her flesh was almost more than she could bear. He teased her clit, then sucked it into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it until she was out of her mind with pleasure. Pulling back, he drew a slow, wet path along her lips, licking and teasing her entrance, his breath hot, his movements like pure liquid.

And then, just when she thought her body might give out from a complete overload of sensation, she felt it—that initial freefall. The warmth pooling in her belly, spreading lower. The first tremble in her legs. The tightening of her muscles and tingling up and down her spine that told her this was it, she was heading over the edge and there was no going back…

“Jagger, I’m—”

“I know,” he panted, still kissing her flesh, licking her. “Let go, baby. Come for me. Let me taste you.” Moaning with raw desire, he flattened his tongue against her clit and pressed hard, rolling it against her body as the pressure built…

“Oh God… Jagger!” She slammed her thighs together and pulled him closer, her bare shoulders pressing against the cold steel of the counter, her legs shaking hard as Jagger thrust his tongue inside, deeper, deeper…

Fuck, yes…

Kate came with a sudden, shuddering gasp, a shock of heat rushing from Jagger’s mouth straight to her core, a thousand tremors rocking her entire body as he palmed her ass, buried his face between her thighs, and licked and sucked and kissed her into sweet, boneless oblivion.

She screamed his name as the orgasm rocketed through her. She thrashed beneath his endless kisses. She came for hours. Days. Years. She came until there was nothing left, until she was floating, until she was utterly and completely gone.

And then, like a thousand butterflies suddenly released from a small, dark room, the giggles within her took flight.

K
ate was laughing her sweet
, beautiful ass off.

Jagger stood before her, his heart pounding, his mouth drenched with the taste of her sweetness, and he couldn’t find the fuckin’ words to tell her how much he’d missed her. How much he’d thought of her over the years, night after night, week after week.

She was curled on her side, still lying on the countertop in nothing but her black bra as she fought to regain control. She was laughing so hard, her eyes were squeezed shut, tears streaming down her face.

Jagger wanted to make good on his earlier threats. To slide her off the counter, bend her over the edge, and bury himself so deep they’d have to pry them apart with a crowbar…

But he couldn’t. All his macho talk, his filthy fantasies, his raging fuckin’ hard-on, and when it came right down to it, he just couldn’t do it.

The sweet sound of her laughter drove home the point like a hammer and nail to the skull.

He’d fucked her over so hard, damned near ruined her life, then showed up again after eight years and turned everything upside down again. She’d let him in tonight, and would probably do it again in a heartbeat—he knew she’d felt so damn good melting in his mouth, coming with the stroke of his tongue. But he couldn’t take any more from her. He was lucky she’d even let him keep the job. Now he was here in the kitchen after hours, eating her cupcakes, eating
her
, thinking he had any claim on her? Any right to even breathe the same air?

Fuck, no. He’d given that up the moment he’d walked out on her, and he was a rotten asshole for thinking he could have her again. In
any
way.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Jagger?” She finally opened her eyes, staring at him with a drugged, loopy gaze as the last few giggles escaped. “That was…”

“Shhh. I know.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, then released it, forcing a smile he just couldn’t hold. Not when she was looking at him like that, her face glowing, her eyes hopeful, and then—suddenly—confused.

Her clothes were scattered all over the damn place; he turned away, grateful for a job to do, and hunted them down, leaving them in a pile next to her.

“What’s… But I thought…” She sat up, clutching the ruined shirt to her chest as he backed away. “Where are you going?”

“This isn’t… we can’t…” Jagger shook his head, knocking the words loose. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. I never should’ve let this happen.”

Her cheeks turned the color of apples, and she lowered her eyes.

“It’s not you,” he rushed to add, but the words were weak and stupid. Useless. “You’re beautiful. You’re amazing. I just… This was a bad idea, Kit-Kat.”

“I have to go. I have to… now.” She hopped off the counter and yanked the clothes over her naked body, frantically looking around the kitchen.

“
Kate
.”

“I need my bag.” The shirt flapped open, but she ignored it, pacing the kitchen in a frenzy. “Where is my bag?”

“Kate!” Jagger grabbed her arm. “I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t go.”

She lowered her eyes to his hand, fingers curled possessively over her arm. When she met his eyes again, they were cold, all of her walls back up.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said coolly, and he knew before she said it what was coming next. Jagger closed his eyes.

“I’ll be right back, Jagger,” she said, her voice laced with acid. “That’s a promise.”

Ouch.

Jagger didn’t pretend to understand Kate’s motives, but those words hit their fuckin’ mark, piercing a hole in his chest like a goddamn bullet. The shock and hurt must’ve been plain on his face, because she dropped her eyes again, unable to look at him.

“You been saving
that
up a long time,” he said, still holding her arm. Despite his anger, he couldn’t let go—it was all that was keeping her here. “Feel better?”

She shook her head, fresh tears glistening on her cheeks.

“You think I
wanted
to let you go?” he spat. “That I wanted to walk away? Every night I spent with you, all I could think about was us. Our life. Our future. The kids we’d make together. The whole damn white-picket-fence life. I fuckin’
worshipped
you, Kate. You were my everything.”

“Then why
did
you walk away?”

“Jesus Christ, Kate. I got arrested.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. I would’ve—”

“No. No fuckin’ way. I couldn’t stand the thought of you wasting away your life, waiting for my sorry ass. I couldn’t put you through that. Not like… I just couldn’t.”

“Not like my mother,” she finished. “That’s what you meant.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and it damn near ripped his heart out. Kate’s mother was a heroine addict who’d landed in jail when Kate was just a toddler. As she got older, Kate visited her every month without fail, right up until her senior year of high school, when she just couldn’t take her mother’s endless empty promises. The woman had shattered her daughter’s heart, and Jagger spent too many nights after those horrible visits helping Kate glue the pieces back together.

A year after Kate had stopped visiting, her mother died in prison, never knowing what a beautiful daughter she had. What a beautiful woman Kate had become.

Jagger wasn’t about to put Kate through that again—not for him. He wouldn’t do it then, and he sure as hell wouldn’t do it now.

“You have no idea the hell… the…
God
.” Kate tried to yank her arm away, but he only tightened his grip, refusing to let her go. Her eyes blazed. “How do you think it felt to have your uncle show up, packing up all of your things from the apartment that
we
shared? The bedroom that
we
shared? I’m sitting on that bed crying my eyes out, begging him to give me some little scrap of news, and all the while he’s just looking at me with so much pity. Like I had no idea how bad it was about to get. Well shit, Jagger. He was right. Loving you was the worst thing that ever happened to me. You
wrecked
me.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like that, Kit-Kat,” he said. “I just wanted you to forget me. You
should
forget me.”

“Yeah? What about what I wanted? What about what I want right now?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I fucked up and went to jail. I’m sorry—”

“I was never mad at you for going to prison, Jagger.”

“Then what is it? Tell me.”

“What difference would it make?”

“At least give me a chance to apologize. To try to make it right.”

Kate finally yanked her arm free, swiping the tears from her eyes. She picked up her bag and looked at him one last time, her words slicing through him like a hot knife. “There’s nothing you can do to make it right. All you do is run away. You did it back then, and you’re doing it now.”

“What? You’re the one leaving!”

She shook her head, tears still leaking down her face, her voice a cracked whisper. “Because you’re already gone.”