Dirty Sexy Sinner (2 page)

Grateful that she hadn’t completely shut him down, he pushed his hands into the front pockets of his pants and graced her with one of his charming grins. “I’ll take option number two, please.”

She returned his smile before pulling her cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans. She pressed a few buttons on the screen of her phone, then held it up to her ear while half turning away from him, so that her face was averted, which he didn’t mind one damn bit considering the sexy view she’d just presented him with. While she waited for someone to answer her call, his gaze shamelessly skimmed down the side profile of her made-for-sin body, taking in her full, high breasts beneath the Kincaid’s T-shirt she wore and the sweet curve of her ass outlined in her formfitting jeans.

His eyes remained right there as a lustful heat coursed through his veins, turning up the temperature of his blood a few degrees. As he was a man who appreciated a toned and firm backside on a woman, hers teased him with the mental image of grabbing her ass while he pulled her hips toward his or smacking that softly rounded flesh with the palm of one hand while his other one fisted all that beautiful, long hair tight between his fingers as he aligned himself behind her.

He didn’t even try and waylay the twitch of his dick as those dirty thoughts filled his mind. No, he actually welcomed his body’s reaction to her. It had been too fucking long since any woman had piqued his interest or stimulated his cock. In just a matter of minutes, she’d managed both and he was definitely intrigued.

“Hey, hi, Clay, it’s Tara,” she finally said, trying to sound casual as she greeted her boss on the phone while also making Jackson privy to her name. “No, everything is just fine,” she rushed to assure him while casting a surreptitious glance back at him. “I’m calling because someone is at the bar to see you . . . and he wants it to be a surprise.”

Jackson hadn’t told her that, but he assumed she didn’t want to announce to Clay over the phone that he had a long-lost twin. Her delicate way of handling his impromptu visit was yet another thing he was grateful for, and a part of him was sorry for putting her in the middle of the situation.

As she listened to whatever Clay was saying to her in response, she rolled her eyes at Jackson, giving him the impression that Clay was trying to wheedle more information out of her. Behind him, he could hear people walking by . . . most likely employees getting ready for their shift, but they paid him no attention. Clearly, he didn’t resemble Clay from the back view, at least not dressed in an expensive suit.

“I know I’m being cryptic, but trust me, Clay,” she said persuasively. “You just need to come down to the bar and see for yourself. In fact, if Mason and Levi can join you, that would be even better.”

Meeting all three of his brothers at once was Jackson’s preference, too.

She went quiet while Clay talked another few seconds, then she finally said, “Okay, thank you.” Relief filled her tone. “I’ll see you in about half an hour.”

With a press of her finger, she disconnected the call, her expression conflicted when she turned fully toward Jackson again. “Clay sounded so suspicious on the phone,” she said with a grimace as she dragged her fingers through her hair. “God, he’s going to kill me for not giving him a heads-up about you.”

“It’s better this way,” he said, hoping to reassure her.

She nodded in understanding. “I know. That’s why I didn’t break the news to him that he had a twin.” She released a soft little laugh. “I mean, how do you explain something like that on the phone? It’s something Clay has to see for himself to believe it, and I didn’t want to give him the next half hour to drive himself nuts thinking about the hows and whys of your existence. That’s your story to tell.”

Yes, it was, and even he had to admit that the tale was one helluva story that had taken even him time to digest and accept. “Thank you, Tara.”

She gave him a wry look that was tinged with humor. “You can thank me by giving me a job at whatever fancy place you work at once Clay fires me for keeping you a secret.”

He chuckled. “If that happens, I promise I’ll make you my personal assistant.” As soon as the words left his mouth, his filthy mind imagined all the
personal
things she could do for him, and it had nothing to do with paperwork or fielding phone calls. No, it involved her servicing him in a whole different way.

She raised a perfectly arched brow, completely unaware of the direction his thoughts had just traveled. “I’m going to hold you to that, Mr. Stone.”

Her light, feisty personality had the tension in his shoulders ebbing, and for the first time since walking into the bar, he began to relax. Tara was like a breath of fresh air compared to how stifled and guarded he felt around most of the women he’d casually dated since his divorce. There were no expectations or pretenses with her and no reason for her to try and impress him.

A perky blonde with a bounce in her step walked around Jackson and behind the bar. She was wearing the same T-shirt-and-jeans uniform as Tara, and she gave him a brief glance—the physical differences between him and Clay not yet registering.

“Hey, Clay, what are you doing here all dressed up in a suit? Is Samantha dragging you off to somewhere classier than this joint?” she teased over her shoulder as she put her purse into a cupboard.

Tara’s eyes glimmered with mirth. “Take another look, Amanda. That’s not Clay. It’s his twin, Jackson.”

“Ha ha,” Amanda responded drolly as she shifted her gaze back to him, clearly taking Tara’s comment as a joke.

The other woman studied Jackson for a casual moment, focusing on his facial features and the cut of his hair. It was comical to watch that shift from
of course this is my boss, Clay
to that moment when she realized that Tara hadn’t been yanking her chain after all.

Amanda’s jaw literally dropped open, then snapped shut again. “Clay has a freakin’ twin?” she exclaimed, loud enough that a few other employees in the place glanced his way curiously, as well.

Tara laughed. “That’s what I just told you.”

The initial nonchalance in Amanda’s gaze dissipated as she assessed Jackson through a new, unfiltered perspective—slowly and appreciatively. “Jesus, and I thought Clay was hot,” she murmured flirtatiously.

He didn’t miss the subtle come-on in her words, but he wasn’t the least bit tempted. Now, if it had been Tara issuing the invitation, he would have seriously considered his options.

As if sensing the suddenly awkward vibe in the air, Tara stepped in front of Amanda and changed the subject. “Why don’t you take a seat at the far end of the bar while you wait for the guys to get here?” she suggested to him.

“Where I’ll be less distracting?” he asked with a half grin as he walked in that direction, away from the main traffic area and the other employees arriving for their shifts.

She gave him a sassy little smirk. “Yeah, that, too.”

He slid onto the last cushioned stool at the bar, and she followed him from the other side of the counter. The lighting at this end was more muted, which made it feel more private. At least for now.

She set a cocktail napkin in front of him. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

He glanced at the selection of premium liquor on the top shelf behind the bar and was surprised that he found the high-end brand he was searching for. “I’ll take the Bushmills 21 neat.”

She tipped her head inquisitively, bringing his attention once again to the small, sexy diamond stud winking at him from her upper lip. “We don’t get many requests for the Bushmills, considering most of our clientele in this area tend to order the cheap and dirty drinks, but I should have guessed a sophisticated guy like you would go right for the most expensive brand of liquor we’ve got in the place.”

Standing on the tips of her toes, she reached up to grab the distinctive bottle of alcohol, and his gaze automatically gravitated to the enticing swells of her ass once again. Fuck, she was hot. He lingered longer than he’d intended on what was quickly becoming his favorite view, and when she turned back around, he knew he’d been caught in the act. And he was now looking at that sweet spot at the juncture of her slender thighs—an equally captivating sight that had his body humming with heated awareness.

There was no denying what he’d been staring at, and without an ounce of remorse, he lifted his eyes back up to hers. Yep, he’d been busted, but the glimpse of amusement he saw dancing in those stunning blue irises and the arousing-as-hell flush on her cheeks told him that she hadn’t been the least bit offended by his perusal of her ass.

No, she certainly wasn’t shying away from the attraction simmering between them, nor was she playing hard to get like other women he’d dated—female games that bored him or made him suspicious of their motives. He liked flirting with Tara. Liked that there were no contrived pretenses in their interactions, and he in turn could just be himself, as well.

“If you don’t sell a lot of this particular brand, why carry it?” he asked casually as she poured his drink with a quick, deft hand. From a business perspective, it seemed like a waste of space and money to him.

“Because every so often, Clay or Mason will indulge in their favorite whiskey, and that would be the Bushmills 21.” She placed the lowball glass filled with the amber liquid on the napkin in front of him. “That’s the only reason it’s on the shelf. Just goes to show that you really are Clay’s twin.”

He chuckled lightly. “Just in case my looks didn’t convince you?”

That sweet, addictive laugh escaped her lips once again. “You’re the spitting image of your brother, but I’m pretty sure the two of you couldn’t be more different in most other ways.”

“Such as?” he wanted to know.

“Well, for one thing, the only time I’ve ever seen Clay in a suit was when he got married, and you look like you wear one on a daily basis.” Her gaze took in his facial features, then his hair. “I’m guessing you live in the city and have some kind of corporate career, while Clay hates downtown Chicago and is definitely not the kind of guy to work a nine-to-five shift. I’m guessing your general lifestyles are pretty opposite.”

He didn’t get the impression that she was judging him in any way, and quite honestly, her speculation about him was pretty spot on based on his outer appearance. But Jackson hadn’t grown up in the lap of luxury as she probably assumed, nor had there been any emotional support that might have helped guide him toward the kind of future most parents would want for their kid.

Far from it. Jackson had been motivated to build a successful life for himself based on his anger and resentment toward the man he’d believed was his father but who had never treated him like a son. He’d grown up feeling worthless and insignificant compared to his younger brother, and not knowing the
why
of his father’s actions had spawned all sorts of insecurities. Doubting himself, and feeling like he didn’t belong no matter how hard he tried to please his father, had been the most painful.

Once he’d turned eighteen and left home, Jackson had achieved every single goal he’d set for himself—starting with college and the school loans he’d paid for himself over the years, through an internship at a prestigious architectural firm, to finally being hired on in a full-time position with Schmidt and Kramer and becoming partner, to making a respectable six-figure salary, with impressive quarterly bonuses. He’d invested his money well and had a solid seven figures to his name.

From anyone on the outside looking in, it appeared that he’d built a fucking fantastic life for himself, and he had. But everything he’d accomplished and obtained had never filled that empty hole inside of him. His marriage certainly hadn’t lived up to his expectations of what he thought would bring him ultimate happiness. He wondered if anything ever would.

Tara had gone back to prepping the bar while he’d been lost in his thoughts, and he sipped his whiskey as he watched her move with purpose as she stocked glasses, replaced liquor bottles, and organized things to her liking. Other staff members were milling about, some of whom were blatantly staring at him with shock as they glanced his way. Obviously, Amanda, the other bar waitress, had let staff members in on the fact that Clay had a twin, and they wanted to see him for themselves.

After a short while, Tara came back to his end of the bar to check on him. “You doing okay down here? Would you like another drink?”

He swirled the last bit of liquor in his glass and shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” The one drink had been just enough to somewhat relax him, though he was still a bit anxious about meeting his siblings. He didn’t think there was anything, legal anyway, that would quell that particular nervous anticipation thrumming through him.

Trying to tamp down his restlessness, he glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes had passed since she’d made the phone call to Clay. The place was still empty of customers since it was ten minutes until opening time. Tara didn’t move away. Instead she started pushing bottles of beer into the ice bin on the other side of the counter where he was sitting, and he decided to take advantage of any knowledge she might want to share about the Kincaid brothers.

“So, what are the three of them like?” he asked before he changed his mind about prying. He wasn’t asking for deep, personal secrets. He just wanted to know a bit about their personalities before he met them to put
him
more at ease. Yeah, he knew it was an unfair advantage to learn about his siblings before they even knew he existed, but it was three against one in the upcoming introduction, and he needed all the leverage he could get.

Tara glanced up at him, her eyes filled with emphatic kindness, as if she understood his concern about meeting the men he knew absolutely nothing about. “Well, the three of them are tight, and life for them hasn’t always been easy,” she said as she wiped her damp hands on a white terry towel. “In fact, they’ve gone through a lot of shit together since they were kids, so don’t be too disappointed and don’t take it personally if they’re a bit distrusting when they first meet you.”

He nodded. “I figured as much.” Despite them sharing a birth mother, Jackson was still a stranger, after all. He wasn’t expecting them to welcome him with open arms, but he hoped they would at least give him a chance to get to know the three of them better.