Five Ways 'Til Sunday (3 page)

Inside, her core heated, melted. Her channel rippled, clasping at his cock. She felt every ridge and vein as her tender walls were crowded, rubbed relentlessly—until at last she gave a whimper.

Her head fell back, her mouth stretching open. The beaded tips of her breasts tangled in the dark fur of his sweaty chest, and everywhere their skin touched she burned. Her orgasm built, pushed higher now by the motion of his thighs, lifting him to thrust upward as he jerked her down.

It was too much, too powerful. Tears leaked from her eyes, and her back arched. At the height of the explosion, she gave a strangled scream and dug her nails into his skin, holding tightly because she was shattering.

“That’s it. That’s it,” he rasped. “Fuck. So beautiful.
Fuck…
”

Scalding spurts of come jetted inside her, but he continued rocking upward. His hard hands drove her down and up, his fingers digging into her ass.

Gradually, she came back to herself and leaned into him, pressing her face into his shoulder as he shuddered through his own orgasm.

Marti kissed his cheek and ruffled his short hair with her fingertips, soothing him until his breathing evened out. “I like this part too,” she whispered.

He turned his head and kissed the corner of her neck. “This is good… What we have. Give us a chance, Marti.”

She swallowed hard. Lord, how he tempted her. But she’d be selfish to cave in now. He needed to know more about her, be sure in his mind as well as his heart that they could make this work, because once she committed, she knew she’d wither up and die if he ever changed his mind.

Chapter Three

Jackson fingered the envelope he’d stuffed into his pocket before he’d headed out the door to work. Marti had still been sleeping when he’d left. Apparently, she’d snuck from their bed sometime in the early morning hours to leave him this.

It had to be The List.

He smiled, thinking about the way she’d looked, so stubborn and scared all at once, as she’d talked about her bucket list of sexual fantasies.

He laid the envelope on the bench in front of his locker and stripped off his jeans. As he was reaching for his uniform, he heard the pad of footsteps nearing.

“By that smile, I take it she said yes.”

Jackson aimed a glance over his shoulder. Craig stood behind him, already in uniform, a crooked grin stretching his mouth.

“Nope,” Jackson said, his voice uninflected.

Craig’s glance went to the envelope. “She give you a love letter?”

“Not quite. It’s a list.”

Craig’s eyebrows rose.

“It’s a bucket list of fantasies. Things she says she has to do before she marries.”

“And you haven’t opened it?” Craig bent and swiped the envelope from the bench.

Jackson straddled the bench and lunged at Craig, but the other man backed nimbly away, raising the envelope over his head.

“Maybe I should read it first,” Craig said, grinning.

“Bastard, give it back.”

“No way. You’ve been grumpy as hell for weeks. I’ve put up with you bitin’ off my head, played lookout while you screwed your girl—I’ve earned this. Besides, it’s unopened. You’re scared to know what’s inside.”

Jackson lowered himself to the bench and crossed his arms over his white T-shirt. “All right. Read it. But not a word to the other guys.”

Craig shook his head. “You know you really shouldn’t trust me. Not when it comes to your love life. The guys are enjoyin’ the hell out watchin’ Marti make you squirm and grovel.”

“I don’t grovel.”

“But you’ve never worked this hard to get a girl’s attention. You’ve never had to.”

Jackson grunted. “Roll call’s in fifteen. Read the damn thing.” He tightened his jaw, warning Craig silently that he wouldn’t take much more teasing.

Craig slid a nail under the flap and opened it. He drew out one sheet of folded paper, arched a wicked eyebrow at Jackson then scanned the front before flipping it over to read the back. His lips twitched, he cleared his throat then quickly handed the list to Jackson. “Yeah, you better read it. I think you’re gonna have some problems here.”

Jackson took the note, smiling inside as he read the opening line, picturing Marti chewing her bottom lip as she rambled on before getting to the point.

Before you read my list, you have to know how much you mean to me. How much I look forward to seeing you at the bar, and rushing back to the apartment to greet you at the door when your shift ends. What we have is good. You were right about that, but…

There’s something inside me. That gypsy part of me that gets restless sometimes. It’s why I backpacked alone across Europe, tended bar in Bali, counted birds on Padre Island. I get these ideas…

Well, just know I care about you more than I ever have any other man, and it’s not that you don’t fulfill me in bed either, it’s just—I have these dreams. Things I have to do, even if it’s just once. Okay, so I’ve blathered a bit. If you’re serious about what you asked me, flip the page.

Jackson’s smile slipped. His gaze shot to Craig whose expression, for once, was free of any teasing.

His heart thudded dully in his chest. He took a deep breath then turned the sheet over.

Two days later, Jackson sat at his usual table with his buddies in The Emerald Tavern, eyeing Marti’s flushed face as she worked the bar. She hadn’t glanced his way except once when he’d first arrived.

Things had been strained between them since he’d read the note. Although they’d gone through the motions, the part of their relationship that made it so different than anything he’d experienced before was absent, crushed beneath the strain of the damn list.

“So’s the honeymoon over?”

Jackson shot Craig with a stinging glare then scanned the rest of his friends. Thursday was the one day of the week where their schedules allowed them to meet. They slouched in their seats. Condensation glistened on the sides of their beers. Not something that happened often because the first beer was always eagerly consumed.

Absent were the rowdy laughter and crude jokes. Not a single gibe had been aimed his way, even though his attention was snagged, as usual, by the curvy brunette behind the counter.

Beau McIntyre cleared his throat. “Craig said you needed some help with something.” Humor glinted in his slanted, dark brown eyes, but his features were difficult to read. Although he was only half Asian, the other half African American, inscrutable was still a word that fit his neutral expression. If he was laughing inside, no hint shown in his dark eyes as he watched Jackson.

Jackson glanced at Craig, frowning, wondering if he’d spilled the beans about The List. “I don’t need help with a goddamn thing.”

“Yeah,” Beau said, his tone dripping sarcasm. “I can see things are peachy between you and Marti. She hasn’t been to our table even once. I’d say she’s avoiding us.”

“She’s avoidin’ me.”

Gus Taggert’s seat creaked as he shifted his large frame. “Can’t say as I blame her. You’re givin’ her the stink-eye.”

Jackson glanced away from Marti and turned his full attention back to the rest of his friends, flicking to Beau who challenged him with his steady stare, then moving on to the rest of his crew whose varied expressions all showed disapproval or concern.

Gus frowned. He adored Marti and likely thought whatever had happened between them was all Jackson’s fault.

Mondo Acevedo’s dark eyes glittered with devilment.

Craig’s expression was carefully neutral. But then he knew what the problems were.

These were his best buddies. Gus and Craig he’d known since high school, having played varsity football together. They’d met Beau and Mondo in the academy seven years ago and quickly bonded over Saturday touch football and chasing women. He trusted every one of them with his back. But Jesus, could he trust them with his woman?

“Guys, I have a problem.”

“We’re here for you, Jack,” Mondo said, his smile fading as he waited.

“Marti’s got some issues.”

Mondo’s brow arched. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Yeah, but she’s got issues with commitment.”

Mondo grunted. “You asked her to marry you? She say no?”

Jackson nodded.

“She say why?”

Jackson’s cheeks billowed as he blew out a breath. “She gave me a list.”

“Of reasons why she won’t marry you?”

He grimaced. “No, of things she has to do before she settles down.”

Mondo shrugged. “Those things—can they be accomplished here in Memphis?”

“Yeah, I guess. But they’re…sexual things. Fantasies.”

“And you’ve got a problem with that?” At Jackson’s sudden glower, both of Mondo’s eyebrows rose higher. “Does she want to watch you do another guy?”

Jackson huffed. “Fuck no.”

“Then what’s the freaking problem?”

Jackson cleared his throat, glanced back at Marti to make sure her attention was elsewhere, then pulled the list from his wallet. He handed it to Beau, because he sat nearest. Beau skimmed Marti’s long-winded apology. Then he turned it over and took his time reading. When he was done, he didn’t look at Jackson, but firmed his mouth into a straight line and passed the note to Mondo who skipped the front and went straight to the list on back. His chuckles were low and dirty, but stopped when Gus elbowed him to pass it along.

Jackson turned in his chair and stared at Marti again, feeling his cheeks burn because his best friends now had a view into Marti’s dirty little mind that he had loved keeping as his own private treasure. Jackson didn’t like sharing Marti with them. And therein lay the big fat issue.

A cough sounded, drawing his attention back to his crew.

“She serious?” Gus asked, his gaze shooting to Marti like he was seeing her clearly for the first time.

“As a heart attack,” he said dryly.

“It’s not a long list,” Mondo said, his voice tight—no doubt because he was trying not to laugh. “You plan this right, you could take care of every one of them over a long weekend.”

Jackson nodded. “I asked for time off. Starting tomorrow.”

“Wow.” Mondo’s lips pursed. His gaze narrowed. “And you’re telling us because you need a little help?”

Jackson drew a deep breath. “I don’t want it to be strangers. And I need this kept on the down-low.”

Beau nodded. “Last thing you’d want is for the whole station house to get wind of it.”

“Exactly.”

“Craig and I have the strip tomorrow night,” Mondo said, fighting a grin. “We could arrange something. Make sure you two aren’t arrested.”

Gus leaned forward. “I’m off tomorrow night.”

Jackson gave him a hard-edged glare.

Gus shrugged, his lips curving slightly at the corners. “It’s her list. Sooner we get ‘er done…”

Jackson’s neck tightened. “
Get ‘er done?
”

Soft laughter erupted around the table.

Gus raised both hands. “One of us has to go first.”

Jackson wiped a hand across his face.
Shit.
They were really going to do this. “All right. You’re up tomorrow.” He cringed at his word choice as the laughter grew.

Craig cleared his throat. “Saturday, I’ll make sure my car’s free. But I’m off after midnight.”

“Let me know when you’re in place, and I’ll be there too,” Gus said.

“Saturday’s gonna be tricky,” Beau said. “I’ll call in sick. You’ll have us all at your beck and call.”

Saturday was gonna kill him.

Jackson tapped the list with is forefinger. “Sunday? Maybe if we count just after midnight…”

The men nodded their heads. They wore the same expressions they had when they’d all faced the last physical evaluation at the academy. Pumped. Excited. Determined.

Craig leaned forward in his seat. “Come Monday, bro, she won’t have any excuses left.”

Marti watched Jackson’s table out of the corner of her eye. The way the men huddled around it, their voices pitched low, she knew something was up.

If things weren’t so hinky between her and Jackson, she’d make up an excuse, take another round of beers to the table, but Jackson had been so quiet since he’d read her list that she didn’t dare. Not without an invitation.

She wished she could take it back. Tell him it was just her fears getting the best of her. What they had was so good, she knew sooner or later she’d mess it up. And it looked like she already had.

He hadn’t spoken a word about it. But she could see the suspicion in his eyes every time he looked at her, like he thought that maybe she didn’t think he was enough. Lord, did he think she was a slut or a badge bunny? Not to be trusted because she had some pretty wild fantasies?

Craig leaned back in his chair. His head swiveled her way. She gave up pretending she wasn’t watching them and met his gaze. He lifted one finger, then aimed it around the table. They needed refills.

Relief surged through her. She hoped the guys hadn’t picked up on Jackson’s vibes and would feel like they needed to shun her, but she was willing to take the risk. She missed their usual teasing and flirting.

She filled the tray with each of their preferred drinks, then twirled the tray up on one hand and strode with conviction toward their table. All the guys, save Jackson, watched her, but the way they studied her curves had her stomach dropping to her toes. Jackson had shared The List with them.

Disappointment stung her eyes. Heat flared in her cheeks. As she drew near she lowered the tray and dealt out paper coasters like a blackjack dealer, which she’d once been, then walked around the table to set a beer on each one.

“Can I get you boys anything else,” she asked, cringing at the scratchy note in her voice.

Craig pulled her arm and brought her closer, then lifted a ten in the other and slid it into the front pocket of her jeans. He did it slowly, and his fingers lingered.

Her breath caught and her gaze shot to Jackson, who’d been watching her all along. Not a hint of what he thought was revealed. But his eyes smoldered.

Was it anger? Or was he turned on?

She could work with either. Lifting her chin, she gazed down her nose at Craig. “Thanks for the tip,” she drawled, then turned and walked away with a sultry wiggle of her hips.