Dirty Sexy Sinner (7 page)

The unexpected hint of doubt and insecurity swimming in her blue eyes had him instinctively reaching out to touch her, to reassure her that he wasn’t a man easily intimidated when he wanted something. And his desire for Tara was only growing stronger, not lessening in any way, and he wasn’t ready to walk away from whatever was happening between them.

He brushed his fingers along the soft skin of her jaw, and when her lips parted slightly and her eyes softened, it took every ounce of restraint he had not to slide his hand around the back of her neck and pull her mouth up to his for a hot, deep, claiming kiss. Instead, he settled with the knowledge that she wouldn’t have stopped him if he had followed through with the impulse. Her clear consent would have to be enough for now, because he didn’t think he’d be able to stop with just one taste.

He gently caressed his thumb along her full bottom lip before dropping his hand back down to his side. “Believe me when I say I’m not even close to changing my mind about you,” he promised her.

Her tongue skimmed across the place his finger had just touched, and she looked up at him with a smile that was filled with relief and quickly turned to bright-eyed sass. “Good. Now let’s go get donuts.”

J
ackson glanced in
his rearview mirror to make sure Tara was still following his car. The donut shop was only a few blocks away, but she’d insisted on driving herself, which was fine with him. But considering the area, he wanted to keep a close eye on her and her vehicle until they arrived and he had her safely inside the place.

Which was ridiculous, considering Tara seemed street smart and perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She gave him the distinct impression that she could handle all sorts of trouble without the help of a man, but he was quickly discovering that she roused protective instincts in him that he was finding hard to shake. In a short time, she’d gotten under his skin, and it was even more shocking that he’d allowed his fascination with her to evolve into something close to an obsession. And now here he was, taking Tara on a date, of all things, when it was nearly midnight on a work night.

He grinned and shook his head at the insane situation. He was going to be exhausted tomorrow at the office, but he didn’t really care. For the first time since his divorce three years ago, he actually wanted to get to know a woman better, instead of bypassing any kind of getting-to-know-you conversation and getting down to the basics of sex and physical release.

His infatuation with Tara was out of character for him, but he wasn’t going to question such a strong, instantaneous connection to this woman when so much in his life had been clouded with uncertainty and that vague sense that something was missing. With the discovery of his adoption and having a twin brother, he now understood where that void stemmed from and why he’d always struggled with a disconnect from his own family.

There was something about Tara and her lack of judgment about who he was that made him feel as though he finally fit in somewhere, that maybe, possibly, he’d found someone who truly understood him.

The illuminated sign for Angelo’s Donuts came into view, and Jackson turned into the small corner lot and parked his car behind the brick building. Tara’s older-model Toyota took the space next to his Porsche, and they both got out of their vehicles at the same time and met up behind his.

“Nice ride,” she said, nodding her head toward his shiny gray Carrera. “Aren’t you afraid your car might get jacked in this neighborhood?”

The thought had crossed his mind, but he wasn’t about to admit it and come off as an egotistical jerk who had an issue being in her part of the city. “That’s what LoJack and insurance are for, right?” he said of the tracking and recovery system he’d purchased with the car.

She laughed lightly. “I guess so. Hopefully you won’t have to put it to the test.”

They walked toward the front of the building, where two police cars were parked. The uniformed officers were standing by the trunks of one of their vehicles, drinking coffee and eating a donut while shooting the shit with each other. He glanced at the men, expecting one of them to be Levi—because of course that would be just his luck—but neither of their faces was familiar.

Jackson placed a hand on the small of Tara’s back as an excuse to touch her as he guided her toward the front entrance, nodding toward the show of law enforcement. “I don’t think I have to worry too much about my car,” he said in a low voice. “The place looks pretty well protected.”

“Yeah, the cops around here love Angelo’s.” As they passed the officers, Tara gave them a friendly nod, then said in a low voice only Jackson could hear, “Then again, what decent cop doesn’t like a good donut?”

He chuckled as he opened the glass door for her. “That’s so cliché.”

“I know, but it made you laugh.”

She gave him a cheeky grin as she brushed past him with a bounce in her step, and he had to resist the urge to smack her ass for being so impudent. The fact that he was that comfortable with her, this quickly, should have had him throwing up his walls to keep his emotional distance, but instead he let himself embrace the relaxed, easygoing sensation coursing through him. Tonight was all about enjoying himself with Tara, without second-guessing or over-examining whatever this was developing between them.

Surprisingly, for as late as it was, there were a few people in the shop, testimony to just how good the treats in this place were. As they walked up to the glass display housing an array of different donuts, a young man who looked to be in his early twenties grinned at Tara.

“Hey, Tara, it’s good to see you,” the dark-haired man with a slight Italian accent said. His gaze shifted to Jackson, the same friendly smile on his face. “And what are you doing here so late? Don’t you have a wife at home waiting for you? Or are you here because she’s got a late-night craving?”

“Dante, this isn’t Clay,” Tara explained quickly, because clearly the guy was referring to Clay’s wife, Samantha. “It’s his twin brother, Jackson. And this is Dante, Angelo’s son,” she said.

Dante’s brows shot up to his forehead. “Oh, wow . . . ”

Jackson braced himself for that adverse reaction he was getting used to, like the one he’d just been dealt back at the bar with Hank. But Dante clearly didn’t know the dynamics of the situation that made Jackson an outsider to the Kincaid clan, because he didn’t hesitate to thrust his hand across the counter for Jackson to shake.

“Nice to meet you, man,” Dante said without an ounce of awkwardness between them, his tone completely sincere. “What can I get for you two?”

“I’ll take a large black coffee and an apple fritter,” Jackson said, going with Tara’s recommendation.

Tara bit her bottom lip, an indecisive frown creasing her brows as she looked into the display case. “Now that I’m here, I can’t decide. Do I want the donut with the sprinkles on it, the chocolate French cruller, or the apple fritter?”

“How about all three?” Jackson suggested.

She gave him a sexy sidelong glance. “Are you trying to seduce me with donuts?”

“I might be.” He winked at her.

A small, beguiling smile curved up the corner of her mouth. She certainly didn’t appear opposed to the idea, and he had to shove his hands into the front pockets of his jeans so he didn’t drag her out of here and make good on that promise.

Tara glanced back at Dante. “I’ll have a coffee and an apple fritter, too,” she told him.

The kid bagged their donuts and set their items on the counter. Jackson paid for their order, and while Tara stopped to put cream and sugar into her coffee, he carried their late-night snack to a vacant table away from the front area so they’d have some privacy. She joined him a few minutes later and took a seat across from him.

Once they each had one of the deep-fried donuts set out on a napkin in front of them—still warm from being freshly made—he watched as she pulled off a corner and popped it into her mouth. She chewed and a soft moan rumbled up from her throat as she closed her eyes as if to savor the taste. But all Jackson could think about was her making that same arousing sigh of pleasure while he was buried deep inside her body. Another bite, and she made the same sound again, and this time his cock hardened with lust.

Fuck.
“Please don’t do that.” His voice sounded strangled.
He
felt strangled.

Her guileless gaze met his, and she looked genuinely confused. “Do what?”

He swallowed his own bite of fritter, and damn, it
was
that good. “Moan like that.”

It took her a moment to catch his understanding, but when she did, the wicked light that glimmered in her gorgeous blue eyes tempted and enticed him, as did the sparkle of the diamond above her lip. “Like what?” she dared.

Did she really think he wouldn’t accept that challenge? He leaned across the table, his voice low and direct. “Like you’re in the throes of an orgasm.”

“I can’t help myself.” Her perfectly straight teeth grazed her bottom lip, scraping off a smudge of sugary glaze that he wanted to lick off for himself. “These fritters are crispy and buttery and sweet and all the bad things I shouldn’t have.”

He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes meeting hers from over the rim of the paper cup for a moment before he set it back down. “Am I one of those bad things?” he teased.

“Probably.” An emotion he couldn’t name crossed her features, bringing with it a vulnerability that changed the undertone of their flirty exchange and made her expression turn more serious than he’d intended. “But there’s something about you I find hard to say no to.”

He felt the same compelling attraction. “Then don’t,” he said, meaning it.

A wry smile tipped up the corner of her mouth. “There’s so many reasons I
should
say no.”

“Clay, Mason, and Levi?” he guessed.

She shook her head as she ate another bite of her donut, much more demurely this time and without the sound effects that had led them down this path of conversation in the first place. “Believe it or not, they aren’t at the top of the list.”

Surprise flickered through him. “Care to tell me what is?”

She wrapped her slender fingers around her paper cup, seemingly considering his question, but something ultimately held her back from confiding in him. “No. I’d rather not.”

“Fair enough.” Was he disappointed not to discover why she believed she shouldn’t be here with him? Absolutely, but he wasn’t one to push or pry, and what he wanted more than anything was to get them back to that place where they were both comfortable with one another. “Then how about you tell me how long you’ve been working for Clay?”

She latched onto the safer topic and smiled. “It’s been about six years. I started at Kincaid’s as a cocktail waitress, and he eventually trained me as a bartender while I went to school part-time for a business degree.”

Jackson recalled their conversation from last week, when she’d told him that she’d been one of those employees Clay had hired because she’d been down on her luck. More questions rose to the surface, but he decided to let her reveal what she wanted, in her own time. Now that they’d established more than just a casual acquaintance, he didn’t want to give her an opportunity to pull away, which would be too easy for her to do since she’d just expressed doubts about him.

“Now that I’ve finally graduated and have my business degree, Clay promoted me to manager of Kincaid’s,” she went on, picking another piece of fried dough off her fritter. “With me in charge and handling the main operation of the bar, it allows him to be home with Samantha a lot more, especially now that she’s pregnant.”

An unexpected pang of envy struck Jackson, and he resisted the urge to rub at the slice of pain in his chest. “He’s a lucky man.” It seemed his brother had the kind of perfect life Jackson himself once believed he’d had, as well. Getting married, having a devoted wife, envisioning a future with a family of his own. Yeah, Jackson had once thought he’d had everything he’d wanted since he was a young boy—unconditional love, a sense of security, and someone to create a solid life with—until he’d been blindsided by yet another betrayal by the one person he should have been able to trust the most. Unfortunately, his wife had been more interested in fucking one of his colleagues than being faithful to him and had ultimately chosen that same guy to marry once the ink was barely dry on their divorce papers. She’d gone on to have a kid with him, further twisting that knife she’d stabbed into Jackson’s heart, since he’d thought
they’d
been trying to conceive at the time.

Collette was yet another person who’d not only deceived him but made him feel as though he wasn’t good enough. Was it any wonder he had issues when it came to trusting people with his emotional well-being? His entire life had been a farce and filled with rejection, and his marriage had been a complete sham. His track record sucked.

He pushed thoughts of his ex-wife from his mind, far more interested in Tara’s story. “Now that you have a degree, are you going to find another job, in a different field?”

“No.” She hesitated, fiddling with the corner of her napkin, then seemingly decided to explain why. “I wanted a degree because . . . well, it helped me focus on something positive at a time in my life when I desperately needed a direction. I’m perfectly content where I am, and Clay is incredibly generous when it comes to my salary. Not only do I enjoy working at Kincaid’s, a part of me owes Clay for . . .” She shook her head and glanced away. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”