Exposed: A British Bad Boy Romance (9 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Susie

W
hat in the world have I gotten myself into?

After our nearly-disastrous lunch, Jasper texted me to be at his place around 7 PM.

It’s half-past six now and I’m still sitting at home debating whether to go through with any of it.

On the one hand, it’s just dinner and an interview.

On the other hand, I know nothing is ever ‘just’ anything with Jasper. I know how quickly things with him get heated.

And I don’t trust myself.

I hate that so much.

I’ve never been the girl who goes crazy over some guy or forgets who she is for a good lay.

But here I am, doing just that. And I don’t even know if he’s a good lay.

He is in my imagination.

Normally, I’d go to Alisha for advice in a situation like this. Of course, Alisha still isn’t talking to me. I tried to engage her when she came home from school and was met with stony silence.

You already know what she’d say, though.

That’s true. She’s already told me to just fuck him and forget him. It’s not my usual style, but then again I’ve never had someone get so far under my skin before. I’ve never had a man give me dreams that make me wake up sweaty and needy.

Maybe that’s what I need. Maybe I need to just screw Jasper to get him out of my mind. It’s what he’d do, right? And he’s certainly made it clear that he’s open to the prospect.

I’m a modern woman — I can use a man for sex and not get attached.

It seems like it should be especially easy with a man as obnoxious and arrogant as Jasper. No danger of getting attached there; that’s for sure.

Okay, deep breaths.

I clutch the edge of my bathroom counter and look up into my reflection, locking gazes with my reflection.

You’ve got this. Don’t let him manipulate you or rile you up. Be a professional and then… fuck his brains out?

Hmm… Somehow that doesn’t seem quite right, but I’m not going to dwell on it any more.

I apply a quick layer of mascara and some tinted lip balm before I ruffle my fingers through the loose waves in my hair left by the braid earlier in the day.

I’m going to cook dinner for Jasper Wild and then try to seduce him. Nooooo big deal.

The whole commute over to his hotel goes by in a blur and before I know it, I’m knocking on his door, glancing at my phone for the time: 7:08.

I don’t know if I’m too early or too late to seem not desperate, but it probably doesn’t matter because the moment Jasper opens the door and looks at me, I swear he sees right through me.

A huge grin splits his face and he steps aside as I walk in, “Hello.”

“Hi,” I mutter, looking around, realizing that his place is astonishingly clean. Spotless, actually.

“Wow, did you have housekeeping come up here?”

He shrugs, “Nah, I broke out the ol’ elbow grease. Bit cathartic, you know?”

I do know. Cleaning often makes me feel like I’m just a little bit in control of my life. Is it the same for him? He seemed so protective of his trash before and…

“It looks nice,” I say, deciding I’m not going to overthink anything tonight.

“I aim for your approval, Susie,” he says with a grin. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

I frown, “How many do I have to drink to get a question out of you?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing like that. We’re through playing those games, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” I say with a little hesitation. What’s he playing at? Is he actually being civilized? Or is it another way to mess with me?

You’re not overthinking things tonight, Suze.

“Good,” he says, popping the cork off a bottle of cabernet. “So, I took the liberty of stocking the pantry and the fridge for you. I wasn’t sure what you had in mind for the menu.”

He’s smirking and I know he wants to catch me in a moment of insecurity, even if he says otherwise.

I grin, “Well, I took the liberty of downloading one of your recipes.”

“Trying to show me up at my own game, eh?” My chest swells with pride at the impressed nod he gives me, “Alright, badarse, go on then.”

“What happened to that wine?” I ask as I’m pulling out pots and pans, working my way through the set-up for the recipe.

“Impatient, luv?” he says, pouring the glasses.

“Maybe I just need to be sloshed to be around you,” I tease.

His brow furrows for a moment, then he leans in as he hands my glass to me and I feel his breath tickle the fine hairs at my temple, “Or you need a little liquid courage.”

My lungs tighten and fire roils in my stomach, but I try to keep my expression placid and unaffected as I take a sip of the wine, rolling the bitter fruity flavor over my tongue.

“What do I need the courage for? I’m not the one about to be interviewed by the Suzette Quincy. You should be shaking in your boots.”

“Should I? Well, go on then, hit me with your best shot.”

I’m chopping vegetables and tossing them in a saute pan, but I’m pretty sure I won’t forget a word of this conversation, even without a record. It seems that every word Jasper utters to me is branded on my mind and memory for all eternity.

“Tell me about your upbringing. Wild’s not your surname, you said you came from a name with more pomp. What do you mean?”

Jasper takes a seat at the bar and watches me move in the kitchen, his gaze intent and unwavering. There’s a nervous little flutter in my chest and an uncertain tremble in my hands, but I do my best to hide it.

“I come from a long titled line. My father is Clarence Elridge the tenth Duke of Wetherly — my parents put a lot of their self-worth in being members of the peerage despite being poorer than most paupers.”

“What do you mean?” I’d have never guessed that Jasper Wild came from nobility. Is that what he’d meant about not being as bad as people assumed?

“The usual. They had their opinions on whom I should socialize with, which women were below my station, which professions weren’t befitting of someone set to inherit the title.”

“Let me guess: you went against every one of their wishes?”

He cracks a smile then and my heart flips, “Of course. Would you have expected anything less, luv?”

“No. I suppose not.”

“You’re water’s boiling,” he notes, drinking from his wine.

My hands fly to my hips, “I don’t remember asking for your commentary,” I say with a pretend pout.

He holds up his hands, “Alright, carry on.”

“Tell me about how you got started cooking.”

Jasper sighs, “I suppose I’m meant to be honest with you rather than glib, aren’t I?”

I nod, “That would be ideal, yes.”

“I had a habit of hanging with unsavory types, causing all sorts of mayhem. I got myself in trouble as a teenager and tried to rob a man in an alley.”

I know my eyes are as wide as saucers and I just gasp “Really?”

He nods, “Not my proudest moment. Fortunately, rather than giving me the arse-kicking I really deserved, the man saw something inside me and offered me a job — a way out of the early grave I was digging myself as he put it.”

“Wow,” I mutter, not knowing what else to say.

Jasper shrugs, “Even I’m not daft enough to pick prison over employment. Turns out I had a bit of a knack for it. The next thing I know I’m making “rising chefs” lists, my picture splashed on newspapers. It all kinda spiraled really quickly the past few years.”

“So are you not enjoying fame and fortune?”

Jasper grins, “I wouldn’t say that. It has its perks — sexy journalists cooking dinner for me springs to mind,” he winks and I feel myself blushing.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Clearly not. You bring out my rakish side, darling.”

I puff out an exasperated breath with a smile, “I’m not sure you have another side.”

“But we know that you have alternate sides. So, what’s a nice girl like you doing drinking straight tequila?”

“I think I’m supposed to be the one asking questions.”

He nods, “You’re also supposed to be searing those lamb chops, not burning them.”

“Shit,” I grumble at the smoking pan, cautiously flipping the lamb to see just how bad the damage is.

“They’re not beyond salvation,” he says encouraging me.

“Right,” I say, pulling them from the heat. “When I was in college, a bunch of my girlfriends and I took a week-long trip to the Keys. Just endless days at the beach, snorkeling, and drinking tequila. I think somewhere in the back of my mind I want to run away and get an old house there like Hemingway had… Kind of silly.”

“What would you do?”

“Hm?”

“If you ran away to the Keys. What would you do there?”

“I…” I think about it for a moment as I start to deglaze the pan with some wine. I shrug, “Maybe write fiction?”

“Hmm, daring romances with roguish British chefs?” He smirks, standing from his seat to walk around the bar to my side.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I jab even as my voice hitches in my throat.

He’s so close to me now — just inches behind me, watching my every movement, making me more nervous than ever.

“You’re deglazing a pan, luv, not churning butter over here,” Jasper says, closing his hand over mine on the spoon.

“I thought you were gonna let me do this,” I say in a husky whisper, surprised by myself.

Jasper’s other hand is on the counter, his arms caging me against the stove with his hard body pressed against me.

“Yes, but you’re just following the recipe,” he says.

I frown, turning to look him in his intense blue eyes, “What else am I supposed to do?”

His hand trails up and down my arm, the other settling on my hip as he presses his lips to my neck, making me shiver.

“Cooking a great dish is about more than ingredients and recipes,” he says, stirring to life a blazing need inside of me.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” I hear myself purr, leaning back against his chest, pressing myself against him so that his hard erection nestles in the cleft of my ass.

I bite my lip, resisting a moan as he slowly moves my arm, kissing each side of my neck before husking, “Passion, luv.”

He takes the pan off the heat and turns the stove off before taking my wrist and turning me to face him.

There’s no escape. I’m trapped by the chiseled marble of his body. Forced into a prison of my own making. Not that I want to escape. My body is hot, flushed and alive with the nearness to him. Desire thrums through my veins and I feel light-headed. Overwhelmed. Delirious.

“Passion can take it from good, to great.”

Jasper’s fingers thread through my hair, grasping the back of my neck and I gasp as he pulls me in for a kiss.

This is nothing like the tentative kiss he gave me in the restaurant. This is hot and hungry, demanding and fierce. I’m clutching at him, tugging at his clothes in an instant. We move away from the stove and Jasper’s hands go to my ass, lifting me to the counter without ever pulling his lips from mine.

“Jasper,” I pant, but he’s pulling my shirt off, soon followed by my bra and then he’s got my nipple in his mouth and all thoughts fade from my mind, giving way to pure toe-curling pleasure.

“Save your better judgment for another time, luv,” he growls, capturing my lips again in a bruising kiss.

I answer him by clawing at his pants, sending them down his hips as I grasp at his thick erection.

“Christ,” he groans, thrusting into my hand. I can’t help the huge grin that spreads my face at the feeling of power it gives me. Every movement of my hand, every stroke of my fingers makes him twitch, thrust and suck in hissing breaths.

“Fucking hell,” he says, kissing me again. Then he’s pushing my skirt up around my hips and discovering the secret I’ve been sitting on all night.

“Why, Susie, you seem to be missing something,” he says with a wolfish grin, trailing one finger tip along my lips, parting them just enough to find my eager wetness.

“You’re talking too much,” I gasp, pulling him forward, wrapping my legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to have all of him. “Fuck me, Jasper.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jasper

“F
uck me, Jasper,” those three little words are enough to drive me absolutely insane. For all I’ve thought about it, I never expected Susie to be so receptive, so eager.

“A gentleman never makes a lady wait,” I say, pressing the tip of my cock against her entrance. She wriggles and squirms, trying to take all of me.

My lips trail along her neck, her collarbone, inhaling the sweet fragrance of her. Her skin is like heated silk, so soft under my fingertips, so hot with need.

“But I’m no gentleman,” I growl, my fingers finding her clit with quick short strokes.

Her back arches, her honey hair nearly touching the countertop as she throws her head back with a moan. I feel her pussy contract, trying to pull me in as I barely press my cock against her. Her legs tremble with every little movement of my fingers against her clit and soon she’s panting.

I slide my finger around and around her clit, drawing it out, watching her leg quake with every pass.

She’s so beautiful there. Flushed with need, arched and spread open for me.

I lean in and take a nipple between my teeth, sliding my cock against her until she’s grinding on me.

“Damn it, Jasper,
please
,” she groans, her nails clawing at my shoulders, desperate to pull me closer.

“Since you’ve asked so nicely,” I say, burying myself within her in one swift stroke.

We cry out together, both overwhelmed by the intensity and ferocity between us.

Susie looks like she’s on another planet. Every time I thrust into her, her eyes roll back a little more, her voice gets a little more strangled.

“Dear god, Susie, you feel incredible,” I mutter against her neck, taking her hard and fast.

She’s got all of her limbs wrapped around me, making these wonderful little gasping, moaning noises, but all I can focus on is the sweet wet warmth wrapped around my cock.

It feels so right. So perfect. Like my cock was just made for her.

I don’t know how I ever made it through life without this. How I ever thought any other woman was even enjoyable when compared to Susie.

I don’t have the spare mental capacity to realize it at this moment, but somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I know she’s ruining me for all others. There’s no going back from this.

No replacing Susie.

As hot as it is to fuck her right there on the kitchen counter, I can’t get the right angle. I want to ruin her the way she’s ruining me. And to do that, we’ll have to move.

I’m kissing her like I need the breath from her lungs to stay alive, our heartbeats in sync, every throb of my iron-hard cock echoed by a delightful little spasm in her pussy.

Utterly ruined
.

I carry her to the bedroom, still impaled on me and she whimpers, clinging to me with all she’s got. Our tongues tangle in a frantic need to be one with each other. Like all of this sexual tension we’ve been holding onto, all the teasing and denial just vanishes and pent up need explodes through us.

I lay her on the bed, running my hands along the length of her smooth legs, pulling one ankle up, over my shoulder as I press into her further.

“Oh! Jasper!” she cries as I lean in to kiss her again.

“You’re going to cum for me, Susie,” I rasp against her ear, plowing into her over and over.

“Yes! Oh, god,” she’s muttering, gripping the sheets, trying to find something to hold onto as I relentlessly plunder her.

“I’ve been wanting to see you cum for me for far too long.” I reach between us and rub my thumb over her clit with enough pressure to make her shudder and cry out.

“Yes, darling,” I growl, pumping into her with a ferocity I didn’t even know I have. My own release is so damn close, so hard to keep at bay with this sexual goddess spread out beneath me.

“Cum for me.” Her back arches off the bed and I feel her entire body grip me at once, tense, coiled and reaching. Then she shatters with an unexpected cry to the heavens.

Susie’s still trembling and shuddering with release, but I don’t stop for anything. I push her right through to another orgasm and she’s forgotten how to speak, only crying out in primal guttural syllables.

Just as she shatters for a third time, I manage to pull out, stroking myself to completion on her belly and thighs. I collapse on the bed next to her and we both struggle for breath, panting in the hazy aftermath of our lovemaking.

Finally after a long moment, Susie giggles, “Wow.”

“Indeed,” I say, draping an arm over her form, taking a still-stiff nipple between my fingers to roll it gently. Her breath catches and she sighs, leaning into my hand.

She starts to sit up and then realizes the mess I’ve made.

“Stay put, I’ll get you a towel,” I say, my knees wobbling slightly as I stand.

Holy shit
. Sex with Susie was on a whole ‘nother level than sex with other birds. She’s just…

Incredible.

Perfect.

Oh, fuck off with that.

I return with a damp towel and start to clean up the evidence, brushing the rag over her stomach, dragging it up her thighs and over the sensitive flesh of her sex. Her body is still flushed with our passion, her chest rising and falling in quick shallow breaths.

But more than that, she’s still spread open for me. Her legs parted, her sex glistening. It’s irresistible.

I lean in and flick the tip of my tongue across her slit and she shivers. She props herself up on her elbows and gives me a look like I’m a madman, but I just smile, tonguing her clit as she sighs and leans back again.

“Jasper, I—”

My lips close around her clit and her words are lost on a moan.

“I want to taste you,” I say, sliding a finger into her slick entrance.

Susie’s moans are like a drug to me. I can’t wait for my next hit. I have to take her right then and there. I have to make her cum. Watch her fall apart under my tongue. It’s my singular purpose in life at this moment and nothing else matters.

My tongue and fingers work together to stoke her into a frenzy. She’s clutching at my scalp, grinding her hips against my mouth, muttering my name over and over again.

Good god, I could go on like this forever
.

My teeth graze against the bundle of nerves and her spine stiffens moments before I taste her release on my tongue.

“Mmm, delicious,” I say, her glistening arousal still coating my lips as I look up at her.

Susie looks like she
wants
to be embarrassed, but she’s either too spent or too thoroughly fucked to do so.

“That wasn’t exactly the meal I had planned for you,” she says with a lopsided grin, her eyes closed in post-orgasmic bliss.

I shrug, settling her against my chest as I join her on the bed, “I needed an appetizer to whet my appetite.”

“Mhm,” she says in a disbelieving tone. It doesn’t matter if she believes me or not. She’s certainly not complaining, now is she?

“What about you, luv? Have you sufficiently worked up an appetite?”

I see her eyes trail down my body to my already-stiffening cock and she smirks, “Yeah… for actual food, I mean.” She separates herself from me and my side instantly feels cold, but then I get to see her standing there naked without an ounce of shame.

I smirk, “Of course, we’ll save the rest for dessert.” I get up to follow her and smack her bare ass as she leads the way to the kitchen.

“Hey!” she yelps, turning back to me with crimson cheeks.

I just give her a roguish smirk and follow into the kitchen, pulling out plates for us. Right back to schedule, eating our meal like we didn’t just fuck each other like rabbits. Like she’s not still flushed from the handful of orgasms I gave her. Like I’m not still rock fucking hard for her and we’re not standing in my kitchen stark naked.

This was supposed to be our last time seeing one another. A chance for her to get what she needs for her story and be out of my hair.

But now I don’t think I want her gone.

I’m not sure I could survive it.

Or that I’d want to.