Jump Start. Lisa Renee Jones

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СКАЧАТЬ Inches. Awareness tingled in her nerve endings.

      She was so in trouble. Clearly, avoiding Bobby wasn’t an option. Definitely. Not. But she would not have sex with Bobby either.

      Holding up her keys, she jangled them. “I’ll walk out with you.” And leave, but she didn’t say that.

      Mark appeared in the hallway, his shoulder-length dark hair tied at his neck, a contrast to Bobby’s short blond locks. And where Bobby was tall, broad and athletic, Mark was simply tall and lean.

      “I’ve been ordered to remove all boxes from the cars,” Mark said, his tone laced with a hint of irritation. He eyed Bobby and nodded. “Hey, man. Sorry I didn’t say much when you came in. I was on the phone with one of our liquor vendors.”

      They shook hands, as if they’d just recently met. Then again, for all she knew, Bobby had been home before now, and she didn’t know. Marcie had only started dating Mark two years before, but they might have casually met before now. Though Bobby’s mother had died of cancer when he was in his teens, and he had no siblings, his father owned an auto shop outside San Antonio, a little over an hour away. It was hard to believe that in seven years he hadn’t been home once.

      “Talk Marcie into jumping yet?” Bobby asked Mark.

      “No,” he said. “She’s too chicken. But I’m all about giving it a go. When do you have in mind?”

      “Jumping?” Jennifer asked, frowning, not sure if she’d missed something.

      “You are so not skydiving right before our wedding!” Marcie said, rushing to Mark’s side, glaring up from her five-three to Mark’s towering six-three. “You’re a computer programmer turned bar owner, and while that shows impressive diversity, you are not Special Forces, like Bobby.”

      Special Forces. Jennifer had not even known Bobby was Special Forces. Her stomach twisted a little.

      “Still,” Mark said. “I’m going to jump while Bobby is here and can go with me. And you might as well come with us. I mean, if anything happens to me the wedding is off anyway.”

      Oh, ouch. Jennifer knew that wasn’t going to go over well. And it didn’t. “Mark!”

      Jennifer and Bobby exchanged a cringe and headed to the door. Outside, the hot Texas night encased them as assuredly as the tension, both sexual and emotional.

      Bobby whistled as the door shut behind them. “I wish I would never have brought up jumping last night. They’ve been snapping at each other ever since. Not exactly what I call wedding bliss.”

      “Wedding jitters,” Jennifer corrected. “It’s not uncommon, and it’s not your fault. And they’ve been at it a few days now.” Guilt twisted in her gut as they stopped beside her blue Mazda 626. She drew a breath and turned to face him. “Which is why I really want to put the past behind us, Bobby. The next two weeks is about them, not us. Let’s call a truce.”

      He stared at her, his deep blue, beautiful eyes smoldering. “A truce it is,” he said. “Why don’t we start this truce by finding me a way out of inviting Mark to skydive. He’s determined to go. She’s determined he won’t. Why don’t you convince Marcie to come along?” He wiggled a brow. “A foursome.”

      Ignoring the joke, and the undercurrent of “coupleness” or whatever real word one might call it that escaped her now, Jennifer argued, “Marcie is already upset over that idea, Bobby. Pressuring her isn’t going to help matters.”

      “Well, I can see the look in Mark’s eye. He’s out to prove something and this isn’t over. But we can end it together, like I said. Come jump with us. Convince Marcie to come, too.”

      She shook her head. “Me. Jumping out of a plane? Not in this lifetime. That’s way too out of control for me.” She opened her door and tossed her purse inside, before clicking the lock to the back door where the champagne was stored.

      “You can tandem jump with me,” he said. “You’d be tied to me. I’ll have control then. I’ll keep you safe.”

      He’d have control. There lay her problem. Bobby had control—when he’d left; for the past seven years, as she’d secretly wanted, needed and wondered; and now, because she was running from him. She had to take control, stop wallowing in the past. Deal with the right here and now.

      “You can trust me,” Bobby said in a low, sandpaper-rough voice. “When I left—”

      She did the only thing she knew to shut him up—she kissed him. She stepped forward, pressed her hand on the solid wall of his chest, pushed to her toes and kissed him. That was taking control. This was taking control. She was taking control.

      They hadn’t been in love. Love endured. Love was honest. Love didn’t run away and never look back. They’d been in lust, and she was all about lust in that moment. All about pleasure. For two weeks, he was here, the man who’d been the best sex of her life. She’d be a fool to run from his flavor of pleasure. She would enjoy him, and then she would say goodbye.

      Starting with this kiss. The instant Jennifer’s mouth touched Bobby’s, he pulled her closer, taking her mouth, as if he feared she might change her mind. His tongue parted her lips, intimately, full of demand. One of his hands tangled in her hair, the other slid up her back, pressing her close, molding her against all that delicious hard muscle. Her hands slid over his back. Long, strong thighs entwined with hers, his hips settling against hers. His erection, already thick, hard, pressing against her stomach.

      She moaned into his mouth, heat pooling in the V of her body. She’d told herself she’d kissed him to shut him up, and while true, it had also been for pleasure. The same reason her hand was under his shirt, her palm absorbing warm, taut skin. Feeling pleasure was so much better than talking about the past. Feeling pleasure. Yes. Pleasure. He knew exactly where to touch her. She knew exactly where to touch him.

      pImages** of their naked bodies entwined, their passionate, impossible-to-forget lovemaking sizzled in her mind and melted her body against his. Kissing him, tasting him, feeling him close.

      “Jennifer,” he murmured against her lips, pulling back to stare at her. “I—”

      She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Don’t talk,” she said. “Kiss me again.”

      “Bobby!” came Marcie’s shout from the door. “Some guy called the house phone. He says it’s urgent.”

      “Damn it,” Bobby cursed under his breath, closing his hand around hers and kissing it. “I’m sorry. I gave the Army an emergency number. I’m on leave but—”

      “Duty first,” she said, relief washing over her. “Then fun.” She’d started this game without planning. That was a lot for Jennifer.

      “Bobby!” Marcie yelled again.

      He stared down at her, his dark lashes narrowing around intelligent blue eyes, as if he were suspicious of what she would do next. He hesitated, then kissed her firmly. “Don’t go anywhere,” he ordered, steel determination in his voice. “We have to talk.” And then he was half walking, half jogging to the house.

      She watched him, the long, lithe way he moved—like a soldier she didn’t know, but a lover she knew all too well. A past she didn’t want to know at all if it wasn’t СКАЧАТЬ