Born to Be Wild: Welcome to Paradise, Book 3 (3 page)

But she was older now. Wiser. A successful lawyer, the proud new owner of a beautiful bungalow in Denver’s Cherry Creek neighborhood, a woman who was completely happy with her life.

Yet as she looked into Jake’s hypnotic gray eyes, she realized that no matter how happy she was, her life still lacked one thing: Passion. She’d slept with other men since Jake, but she couldn’t remember the last time a man’s mere proximity made her heart gallop like a racehorse. Or when the simple sound of a man’s voice brought such a delicious ache to her core.

Only Jake managed to evoke that response in her, which was really freaking annoying.

“So…” She cleared her throat. “You didn’t have to spend a thousand bucks to have dinner with me, you know. If you wanted to catch up, we could have done it over breakfast at the diner, free of charge.”

“Is that what you want to do tonight? Catch up?” His voice held a mocking note.

Bree’s heart did a little flip, but she caught herself before her pulse sped off into oblivion. “It would be nice,” she said noncommittally. “I’d like to hear what you’ve been up to all these years.”

“Really?” He edged closer and his masculine scent grabbed hold of her senses. Soap and spice and something woodsy. “So you want to listen to my anecdotes and share life stories?”

“Y-yes.”

He chuckled.

The sound sent a shiver up her spine.

“Come on, Bree, we both know conversation isn’t on the agenda for tonight.”

Indignation hardened her jaw. “We haven’t seen each other since high school, Jake. Did you honestly think I’d take one look at you and fall into bed with you again?”

“Yes.”

Cocky bastard.

But damn if her thighs didn’t quiver at the thought.

You’re not a bad girl anymore. You never were.

She lifted her chin, gathering up her resolve. No matter how gorgeous Jake was, no matter how much her body responded to him, she wouldn’t sleep with him tonight. That ship had sailed a long time ago, and falling back into old habits—bad habits—wasn’t something she could afford to do right now. She had an important lawsuit about to go to trial, a house she was still in the process of decorating, a life that didn’t include Jake Bishop.

Or sex with Jake Bishop.

“Sorry to disappoint, but the only thing that’s on the table is dinner,” she said firmly.

The sultry heat of his silver eyes penetrated her body. “What happened to the Bree Lockhart who used to be up for anything?”

“She grew up.” Bree rolled her eyes. “Evidently, you haven’t.”

He flashed her a grin, that crooked badass grin that never failed in making her melt. “Growing up is overrated, sweetheart.”

“If you say so.” She slanted her head. “So, dinner?”

He shrugged. “Dinner it is.” He looked around the crowded ballroom, focusing on the auction in progress. The bachelors were taking their turns on the stage, but Jake didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in the festivities. “Wanna get out of here now?”

Her heart skipped another beat and she had to chastise herself for getting excited. This was nothing more than dinner. Dinner between old friends. Old lovers. Just because Jake was eyeing her like he wanted to get her naked didn’t mean she’d let him. She was thirty years old, for Pete’s sake. A strong, resilient woman who could surely fight off the advances of one Jake Bishop.

Right?

“Sure,” she agreed. “But I’m serious, Jake, this is
dinner
.”

He reached for her arm, and the warmth of his touch seared her skin and sent shockwaves of desire through her body. “Of course,” he assured her. The wolfish twinkle in his eyes totally betrayed his casual tone.

“I mean it,” she insisted.

“Uh-huh.”

Bree gulped and followed him out of the ballroom.

Chapter Two

Jake wanted to lick every inch of Bree’s delectable body. Unfortunately, she was sitting all the way across the table, and there was all this damn food between them, acting like a barrier. He couldn’t believe how incredible she looked. And he’d forgotten how frickin’ smart she was. As she spoke in length about her latest case—a lawsuit against a pharmaceutical company that had knowingly sold defective drugs—it surprised him to discover that he was actually interested in everything she had to say.
 

“What are you thinking about?”

Her soft voice drew him out of his thoughts. Jake met her eyes, then reached for his wine. The stem of the pansy-ass glass was too skinny, and he felt awkward holding the damn thing.

“Jake?” she prompted.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know what I’m thinking,” he finally said.

Her blue eyes flickered with irritation. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“Should I have?” He smirked. “You always seemed to like me just the way I was.”

“Rough, crude, complete lack of restraint, smartass remarks?” She tilted her head, causing her raven hair to fall over one shoulder. “It was all very exciting when I was seventeen. Not so much anymore.”

“Bullshit.” He let out a deep chuckle. “You still like it.”

Rather than answering, she pushed away her empty dinner plate and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin. The private room of Carlotta’s boasted a romantic candlelit atmosphere, complete with a red silk tablecloth, white roses, delicate china and expensive wine. But Jake wasn’t looking for romance. From the second he’d seen Bree again, he’d been thinking about nothing but sex.

A wave of sexual nostalgia swept over him. “We were good together, weren’t we, sweetheart?”

A rosy flush rose on her pale cheeks. “Can’t deny that.”

Jake fingered the stem of his glass, noticing that her gaze was following the motions of his hand. “Remember the Derry Falls game?”

Her cheeks went even redder. “No, not really.”

“Sure you do.” He shifted in his chair, reaching down to subtly rearrange his growing erection. “The team stayed in the same hotel as the cheerleaders, you were on the second floor, I was on the third…we snuck away and met up in the bathroom…” He dragged his tongue over his lower lip. “I went down on you for nearly an hour in one of the stalls…ring a bell?”

Her arousal was written all over her pretty face. Oh yeah, she remembered. Jake’s cock stiffened to full mast as the wicked images flashed across his brain. Bree leaning against the stall door, one leg lifted up on the toilet paper dispenser as she exposed herself to him. The feel of the linoleum floor beneath his knees as he bent between her legs and licked her up like an ice cream cone.

“Jake, please,” Bree said, a wary expression on her face.

“That’s right—you said that exact thing, over and over again.”

She sighed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Damn straight.”

A smile tugged on the corners of her lush mouth. “We’re not teenagers anymore, Bishop.”

He feigned an innocent look. “Adults can’t have sex?”

“
We
can’t have sex,” she corrected. “I participated in the auction to help my parents out, not to get laid. If you wanted some action, you should have bid on Sandra Cohen. I hear she likes to do more than bake cookies.”

Jake laughed. “I don’t want Sandra Cohen. I want you.”

“Why?” Frustration laced her tone. “We don’t even know each other anymore. We had a fling when we were kids, and then we both moved on. I don’t have time for flings. I’ve got a life.”

“Does that life include a boyfriend?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Does it include celibacy?”

“Of course not, but—”

“Then what’s the problem?” He shrugged. “You’re in town, I’m in town…aren’t you curious to see if the spark is still there?”

Without letting her respond, he pushed his chair back and stood up. Bree’s eyes widened as he rounded the table and sank to his knees in front of her.

“What are you doing?” she stammered.

“What do you think?” he muttered.

And then he cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth down to his.

Bree gasped, but he swallowed the breathy sound with his lips, tangling one hand through her hair to angle her head for better access. She tasted like red wine and the lemon chicken she’d had for dinner, and underneath, a subtle, sweet flavor that was uniquely Bree. He’d always loved kissing her. He’d done it often all those years ago. They’d made out everywhere—his house, behind the school, the alley between the diner and the barbershop, the woods, the meadow, the lake…
everywhere
. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her, just like he couldn’t now.

Thrusting his tongue in her mouth, he kissed her senseless, while his hands roamed her body. He stroked her bare shoulders, her collarbone, her arms. Glided his palms over her breasts, gripped her hips. He would’ve liked to cup her ass, but she was sitting down, so he dragged his hands north again and fondled her breasts, squeezing the firm mounds and eliciting a moan from her throat.

To his delight, Bree’s hands weren’t idle either. As their tongues danced and swirled, she stroked his stubble-covered jaw, then bunched the collar of his shirt between her fingers and brought him even closer.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, wrenching his mouth away. “See, sweetheart, the spark’s still there, burning as strong and hot as ever.”

“Jake—”

He heard the note of protest and cut her off with another kiss.

Bree could barely breathe. She was so turned on she couldn’t even remember her own name, and as Jake’s talented tongue explored her mouth, she couldn’t voice a single argument. God, he knew how to kiss. Knew how to touch, how to tease, how to do
everything
.

The feel of his stubble scraping against her chin sent her back to the first time they’d made out, when she’d found him in the back of his pickup after the football game, drinking a beer and staring up at the stars. She didn’t know what had compelled her to climb up beside him, why she’d accepted that first beer he’d offered, and then the second, and the third. For a girl who got tipsy off a sip of champagne, three beers had done a number on her, and when she and Jake started kissing, every inhibition she’d ever possessed had dissolved like sugar in hot water.

She’d lost her virginity that night, and embarked on a sexual journey that she still fantasized about to this day.

And now here he was, her old flame, her former fantasy, kissing her again, and she was helpless to stop him.

“Bree,” he rasped, pulling back slightly. “I want you. Fuck, how I want you.”

I want you too.

She bit back the words, shocked by how tempted she was to voice them. How was this happening? They hadn’t seen each other in years, yet it was like no time had passed. The fire burned just as hot, the attraction so visceral she felt it crackling in the air between them.

Jake Bishop had been her biggest weakness, and evidently still was.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s see this through.” He nuzzled the crook of her neck and nipped at her flesh, his warm breath tickling her sensitized skin. “We both need it so bad.”

As he kissed her neck, he continued to squeeze and fondle her breasts through the bodice of her dress. Her nipples puckered, strained against her bra, and that spot between her legs ached, clit swollen, panties so damp she squirmed in the chair.

How did he still have the power to get her this hot, this fast?

When she still didn’t utter a word, he lifted his head and fixed her with a hot, needy look that made her shiver. His gray eyes burned with such passion, such intensity, that she squeezed her legs together, fighting off a spontaneous orgasm.

“Say yes,” he said roughly.

Bree’s heart hammered against her ribs. God, this was insane. She should say no. They’d spent three months together
twelve
years
ago. She and Jake were essentially strangers now, and she didn’t have sex with strangers. She didn’t even put out on the first date, damn it.

But apparently she was destined to never refuse Jake Bishop, because when she opened her mouth, the word
no
didn’t leave her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered.

With a growl, Jake yanked her off the chair and into his lap. They rolled onto the floor, while the candles on the table flickered above them. The owner of Carlotta’s had taken great pains to create a romantic ambience in the private dining room, and Bree doubted the man would appreciate his patrons screwing like bunnies on the floor of his establishment.

But again, she had absolutely no resolve when it came to Jake.

As he covered her mouth with his, she was already reaching between them, fumbling with the zipper of his trousers. He felt so heavy on top of her, his muscular chest pressing against her breasts, one firm thigh jammed between her legs. He ground his lower body into hers, triggering a flurry of shivers in her body. Her clit swelled and throbbed, and she lifted her hips, shamelessly rubbing against the bulge beneath his trousers, straining to get closer.

Her hand shook as she released his zipper. A strangled moan slipped out when his cock, hard and thick, sprang into her palm. No boxers. Evidently Jake’s preference for going commando hadn’t changed.