Born to Be Wild: Welcome to Paradise, Book 3 (8 page)

When he pulled up in front of Nate’s house ten minutes later, Bree’s black Lexus was already parked in the drive.

He smiled when he caught sight of her. She was sitting on the hood of the car, her black hair tied up in a ponytail that flopped over her shoulder as she bent over a yellow legal pad, her graceful hand scribbling away. When she spotted him, a tentative smile lifted her full lips.

“Hey there,” Jake called as he made his way over to her.

She set down the legal pad and walked over to greet him. Her hesitant expression faded the second he kissed her.

When their tongues met, a jolt of heat blasted into his groin.

Bree grinned, her blue eyes resting on the bulge in his jeans. “It’s nine o’clock in the morning—how are you always so horny, no matter what?”

“My cock can’t tell time.”

She laughed, a sweet melodic sound that had his erection throbbing with excitement. Gritting his teeth, Jake took her hand and practically dragged her to the porch. “Hurry,” he said roughly. “There’s a chance we might make it to a bed this time.”

Her resounding laughter tickled his ears.

They
did
make it to the bed. Even managed to get naked too, unlike yesterday’s fully clothed fuck in the hall.

Jake’s pulse sped up as he stood at the foot of the bed and let his gaze roam Bree’s gorgeous body. She belonged in a centerfold spread, for chrissake. Tall, slender, with just the right amount of curves. Her breasts were high and full, tipped by rosy-red nipples that puckered the moment his eyes swept over them. Her belly was flat, widening into a pair of curvy hips, then tapering again to showcase a spectacular pair of long, smooth legs.

She lay back on the mattress and spread her legs, and Jake’s greedy gaze devoured her sweet pussy. Bare, save for a narrow strip of dark curls, her pink folds glistening with moisture.

When he met her eyes, he saw the hunger in those deep blue depths. She was staring at his chest, looking so appreciative that a burst of pure male satisfaction went off inside him.

“There should be a law stating you’re not allowed to wear a shirt,” she said with a contented sigh.

“There should be a law stating you’re not allowed to wear
anything
.”

“You just going to stand there all day?” she asked in a throaty voice.

“Maybe.” He licked his lips. “Spread your legs wider.”

She obeyed without question, propping one leg up so he had a perfect, unobstructed view of her sex.

“God, Bree, I need to taste you.”

“What are you waiting for?”

Good question. He swiftly dropped to his knees, pulled her toward him so her ass was hanging off the bed, and buried his face between her legs. She tasted like heaven, sweet and heady and utterly feminine. Jake lapped at her with his tongue, licking her clit, then sucking it hard. She moaned, and he felt the vibration of that husky sound against his lips.

He teased her with his mouth, his lips, his teeth. And when her hands started clawing at the sheets, he applied more pressure on her clit, flicked his tongue over it in a steady rhythm and made her come so hard she nearly thrashed off the bed.

When she let out a satisfied little moan, Jake climbed up her gorgeous body and flung an arm out in the direction of the bedside table. He’d stashed a box of condoms there earlier, and he quickly grabbed a foil pocket, sheathed himself, and drove into her tight, wet pussy.

“I need to come,” he muttered. “Right. Fucking. Now.”

Slow had never been an option when it came to him and Bree. He was too hungry for her, too desperate to cross that finish line. His strokes were hard, erratic. She canted her hips to deepen the connection, wrapping her arms around him. Pain stung his back when she dug her fingernails into his skin. He groaned, dishing out some rough stuff of his own as he drew her bottom lip between his teeth and bit her.

Bree cried out and started rocking beneath him. Her orgasm pushed him over the edge, sending a streak of raw heat to his balls as he gave himself over to release and came in an explosive rush of white-hot ecstasy.

As her inner muscles milked every last drop of pleasure from his body, Jake squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in ragged breaths. It took a few minutes before his brain was capable of functioning again and when he opened his eyes, he found Bree grinning up at him. “You okay?” she taunted.

He groaned. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Oh, poor baby.” She stroked his shoulders and pressed her face to his chest, kissing that sweet spot between his pecs. “How can I make it better?”

He rolled them over so that she was straddling him, then reached up to cup her firm breasts. He toyed with her cherry-red nipples, loving the way they hardened beneath his fingertips.
 

“How about you sit here and let me play with these for a bit,” he suggested in a raspy voice. “And then in ten minutes or so, you can ride me, just like you did the night you tore up the roof of my truck.”

Moaning, she leaned forward and filled his palms with those mouth-watering tits. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I’m hungry,” Bree murmured a couple of hours later. Her head rested on Jake’s sturdy chest, and their legs were tangled together, the hair on his calf tickling the sole of her foot. The warmth emanating from his body was making her sleepy, but her stomach’s grumbling proved to be relentless.

Finally, she wiggled out of his embrace and sat up. “Are you still a lost cause in the kitchen?” she asked.

“Yep.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll whip something up then.”

As she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, she felt Jake’s hot gaze boring into her back.

“You’ve got the sweetest ass, Bree,” he said in a husky voice. “Remember that weekend your parents went away, a few weeks before graduation?”

Sheer lust slammed into her. She nearly keeled over, her legs shaking as she slid on her jeans.

Jake chuckled. “You
do
remember. Should we try that again tomorrow?”

Anticipation trickled through her, intensifying when the memory of Jake’s cock buried in her ass burned into her mind. She hadn’t let any other man do that to her. Hadn’t trusted anyone to.

Why did she have zero reservations when it came to Jake Bishop?

Deciding not to dwell on that, she slipped into her bra and V-neck sweater, shot him a mocking smile and said, “We’ll see.”

She heard him chuckling as she left the bedroom. Downstairs, she puttered around in the kitchen, gathering up ingredients and setting them on the enormous work island in the center of the room. As she prepared two turkey sandwiches, her gaze was drawn to the photograph on the other end of the counter, tucked behind the cordless phone cradle and a basket filled with keys and knick-knacks.

It was a shot of Nate and his wife at the lake. The couple gazed at each other rather than the lens, and the mutual adoration in their eyes brought a pang of longing to Bree’s heart. Nate and Charlotte were so completely in love, and like her and Jake, they’d been involved in high school only to go their separate ways. But Nate and Charlotte had found their way back to each other. Just like her and Jake.

Scratch that, it wasn’t like that at all. She and Jake had found their way back into bed, but a relationship between them wasn’t in the cards, same way it hadn’t been back then.

Truth was, the recklessness Jake possessed was a turn-on between the sheets, but not in real life. As a lover, he was off the charts. As a husband, a partner? He came up short. Bree wanted a man she could count on. A man she could
talk
to. Unfortunately, Jake didn’t do the talking thing—case in point, they’d spent the last three days together and he still hadn’t told her a single detail about his life. He’d been the same way in high school, vocal as hell when it came to sex, but perpetually tight-lipped about his feelings.

“You’re frowning,” came Jake’s gruff voice.

She turned to see him standing in the doorway. Bare-chested, barefoot, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Lord, his body was spectacular. He turned her on something fierce, and she couldn’t help but wish their connection went beyond purely sexual.

As she swept her gaze over his muscular chest, she noticed several scars marring his sleek, golden skin. The puckered white circle above his left hipbone looked particularly nasty, causing concern to wash over her. “How’d you get that scar?” she asked. “The one on your hip.”

“Just another battle scar. Why were you frowning?”

His dismissal of his war wounds bugged her, but didn’t surprise her. “I was just thinking,” she answered, focusing on the task of spreading mayonnaise on two pieces of bread.

“About what?” He crossed the room and flopped down on one of the tall-backed stools by the eat-in counter.

“You,” she said honestly. Slapping the sandwiches together, she placed them on two plates and slid one across the countertop.

“Thanks,” he said, before tackling the sandwich with enthusiasm. He shot her an expectant look as he chewed. “So…thinking about me, huh?”

Bree sat on the neighboring stool. “You haven’t told me anything about your life. Are you on leave at the moment?”

He responded with a noncommittal shrug. “Sort of.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means…yeah, I guess I’m on leave.”

His tone was so vague she fought a spark of irritation. “When are you leaving Paradise?”

“Not sure yet.”

With a sigh, she focused on eating. She shouldn’t be surprised that Jake was still so damn close-mouthed, but his silence grated. “How was breakfast with your mom?” she finally asked.

“Not so good.”

Since she hadn’t expected him to elaborate, it startled her when he went on.

“Mom and Austin are barely speaking, and the little bastard didn’t even show up this morning, even though he told me he would.” Jake polished off the rest of his sandwich, then hopped off the stool and headed for the fridge. He emerged with a jug of orange juice, which he poured into two tall glasses.
 

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on with them,” Jake confessed as he sat down again and slid one of the glasses in her direction.

Bree took a sip, eyeing him over the rim of her glass. “Neither of them will talk about it?”

“Nope.” He ran a frustrated hand over the thick stubble dotting his strong, square jaw. “I noticed it at Nate and Charlotte’s wedding, but according to Owen, it’s been like this for months.”

Bree picked up on his unhappiness, which only reminded her of the close relationship between the Bishops. Bree and her brother were far more independent, doing their own thing, staying out of each other’s business. And while their parents liked to interfere in their lives, it wasn’t because they wanted their children to be happy, but because Tanner and Barbara Lockhart considered their kids’ success as a reflection of themselves. But the Bishop family had always been tight-knit. Della Bishop loved and protected her boys like a mama lioness, and Jake and his brothers always had each other’s backs.

Bree knew it must be driving Jake nuts that Austin was shutting him out.

“Why don’t you do something about it?” she asked.

“Believe me, I’ve tried. I can’t pry a single detail out of those two. Austin’s going out of his way not to be in the same room as Mom.”

“So don’t give him a choice,” Bree replied with a shrug.

“What are you suggesting, I lock them in a room and force them to hash it out?”

“Yup.”

Jake’s gray eyes twinkled with amusement, but he didn’t shoot down the idea. “Guess I could try it.”

“Invite them both over for lunch tomorrow,” Bree suggested. “Separately. Don’t let on that the other is coming, and then when they show up, tell them in no uncertain terms that they’re not leaving the house till they figure out their shit. I’ll even help you out by fixing lunch.” She grinned. “They won’t get much talking done if they come down with food poisoning.”

Jake laughed. “I’m not
that
bad at cooking. I get by just fine when I’m overseas with my unit.”

“Opening a pack of freeze-dried food isn’t cooking.” She tipped her head in thought. “Where do you live when you’re on leave?”

His easygoing demeanor stiffened. “Nowhere.”

“You don’t own a place here, or, anywhere?”

He offered a curt shake of the head. “Never bothered. I usually crash at Owen’s or my mom’s when I’m home, which isn’t too often.” He quickly rerouted the conversation before she could press for details. “How are you liking your new house?”

Bree stifled a sigh. Jake had mastered the skill of
not
talking about himself. “I love it,” she answered.

She spent the next few minutes chatting about her house, giving him a play-by-play of all the work she’d done on the place so far, but her heart wasn’t in it. She should’ve known better than to think Jake would reveal details about his life. Or that when he did, he’d actually have something meaningful to say.

Jake Bishop had never been serious about anything. Life was one big game to him, an adventure, and once he got bored, he moved on to the next easy thrill. Nothing held much significance for him, save for his family and his military career, though even the latter didn’t seem very important, seeing as he refused to talk about it.